Daddy in the Making

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He’d already guessed what he’d said, and he wondered how many women he’d done it to and if he’d really meant it at the time.

“I told you I’d be back,” he said.

“Yes. You said you’d come back after you’d taken care of your business for the day.” She fingered her collar, as if missing the jewelry she used to wear. “You took my necklace from my pile of clothing and said you wanted to bring it with you. You were in a playful, good mood. ‘It’s just some insurance,’ you said. ‘A guarantee I’ll come strolling through the lobby again tonight.’”

Insurance? A guarantee? Okay, from what he remembered about himself, this didn’t sound like him at all.

Had he been toying with her? His brothers—his best friends—had told him that he was a pretty harmless scamp, but it didn’t sound like it right now.

Why hadn’t he just made it clear to her that their one-night stand was merely that?

A sense of bewilderment rotated within him, as if trying to find a place to stop, to lock in and provide some clarity, but it never did.

“At any rate,” she said, still cool, “that’s the gist of it.”

He wanted to ask her just when she’d stopped expecting him to come back, but he wasn’t sure why he was even wondering.

She started walking again, and he knew she’d said all she was going to say. He knew that he’d done a real number on her, too, whether she showed it or not.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, following her, taking the necklace out of his back pocket and holding it out. “I wish I could—”

“You don’t have to wish anything.” She ignored the necklace. “Actually, it’s good to know the reason you didn’t come back—not to say I’m glad you were in an accident, but …” She blew out a breath. “At least you’re okay.”

He acknowledged that, nodding, then out of pure impulse, took her hand, intending to put the necklace in it. She gasped just as a zing of energy flew up his fingers, his arm—

Holding her … Curves against his palms, sleek, smooth, so beautiful …

He came out of it as she pulled her hand away from his and walked off again.

“You can keep it. It’s only a bauble.”

But, as he stood there, he got the feeling that this necklace—and everything that went along with it—no doubt meant a lot more than that to her.

He wanted to apologize again, but by now, apologies were just air. Meaningless.

He caught up with her in a couple of long strides. “If there’s anything else you can tell me—”

The words spilled out of her, as if the sooner she said them, the sooner he would leave. “You said that two out of three of your brothers are happily married. They tease you about being a bachelor until you’d like to punch their lights out. Your mom’s a widow, and you think that, more than anyone, she wishes you’d get out more to find someone who’d make your days ‘shine all the brighter,’ as she’d say. That’s what happened to her and your father—true, fast love.”

What? “I told you all that?”

“Well, we didn’t sleep much, whether it was talking or …” She trailed off, as if she regretted how far she’d gone in this conversation.

But he was swamped by yet another image. Holding her against him as she closed her eyes, pressing kissesto her eyelids, one by one, then the tip of her nose. Watching her in the glow of a soft lamp as she drifted off to sleep. Feeling something unfamiliar twisting inside of him, as if being born …

But wasn’t he the ultimate cowboy bachelor?

The same twisting sensation ripped through him now, as if daring him to define what it was.

Up ahead, he could hear children’s laughter, the clang of a playground, past all the dust-brushed Old West buildings. Rita kept leading him toward it.

“Rita,” he said, “when I came back here, it was because of you.”

This time, when she slowed down, she almost seemed to stumble before she straightened her posture. “What?”

“I had this fragment of a memory …” He gentled his tone. “About you. It drove me to find you, even if I can’t remember exactly why. I keep thinking that if I spend some time with you, it’s going to shake things loose in my head.”

His directness had apparently stunned her, because she kept walking slowly, not looking at him.

But then, she did sneak a glance, her expression even more torn now.

He’d played his last card with her.

They stopped at a chain-link fence that separated them from swing sets, a teeter-totter and a field where children were playing tag and doing somersaults and cartwheels in front of a woman wearing a floppy camp hat. Next to the field stood a small pastel-colored building with a mural on it. In the mural, children of all sizes and colors laughed, held hands and peered up at a rainbow.

One little girl with dark curls just like Rita’s spied her, and she jumped up, then waved.

Rita waved back as the girl picked up a bag from the edge of the grass and came running toward a swinging gate in the fence.

“Mommy!” she yelled, curls bouncing, skirt flying.

A new flash of memory hit Conn hard.

“Kristy. That’s my daughter’s name …”

He just stood there as the girl came through the gate and hopped into her mother’s arms. Rita buried her face in her daughter’s hair, squeezing her until she pulled away, planting a kiss on the child’s forehead.

Then the girl sucked in a breath. “I forgot!”

She ran back to the field, where her teacher was holding a majorette’s baton.

Meanwhile, it looked as if Rita was daring Conn to say something about her having a daughter. Looked as if she was wondering if this would be enough to let him know that she’d never truly expected him to stay for more than one night in the first place.

How had he reacted when she had told him she had a daughter that night? Had he wanted to run?

But then why would he have taken her necklace and promised to come back? Had he been that much of a jerk that he would’ve led her on just for another night of great sex?

She watched him wade through all these emotions that he couldn’t identify, then finally said, “You remember me telling you about my girl?”

“Yeah. I do now.”

“Okay.” She looked straight ahead at her daughter. “Then I can’t give you any more than that, Conn.”

The little girl ran out the gate and Rita took her hand, guiding her away before they could even be introduced.

Conn had checked into the Co-Zee Inn in the more modern east side of town, thinking that he didn’t want to crowd Rita too much by checking in to her hotel. He was lying in bed, hoping that his brain would catch up to what he’d experienced today.

As soon as he shut his eyes to the faint neon from the “vacancy” sign bleeding through the green curtains that didn’t quite shut all the way, it was as if his mind finally cooperated.

A few memories crept in. In bed, Rita leaning her head in her hand as she propped herself up with an elbow, her curls spilling down. She was looking down at him as he lay there, using his finger to lazily trace the soft, pale inside of her arm. Their skin was drying from the sweat that had beaded on it during their lovemaking.

“I usually don’t sleep around like this,” she said. “I’ve got responsibilities that I take seriously.”

“Like your hotel,” he said.

She swallowed hard, her gaze widening, as if what she was about to say next would change everything.

“It’s more than that, Conn.”

He’d risen up on an elbow, too, coming face-to-face with her.

“Tell me,” he said.

“Kristy. That’s my daughter’s name.”

Conn looked into her eyes, expecting that the urge to flee would grab him at any second. Instead, he heard himself saying, “A little girl with your hair and eyes.”

Rita seemed as if she thought the night was about to end right there, but …

He leaned toward her, kissed her on the temple, reaching out to slide a hand over her hip …

His eyes opened, his heart beating so fast that he had to sit up to find balance.

Dammit, he’d been smitten by Rita in that moment, hadn’t he? But, based on what his brothers had told him, Conn probably would’ve sent the necklace back to her with an endearment-filled note, finding some charming way to ease their parting while never promising to return after that. He would’ve used his “Jedi mind tricks,” as his oldest brother, Bradon, called it, to make her think that one night of happiness was wonderful enough without expecting more from him.

As he swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting his feet firmly on the shag carpet, he leveled his breathing.

Had he hurt Rita enough to send her into another man’s arms? And had that man gotten her pregnant and left, too?

Or had the old Conn, the furthest thing from ideal father material, made a baby with her and accidentally left anyway?

As he lay back down, the neon light from the window beat like a red heartbeat on the ceiling.

But it also looked like a warning light, advising him to leave well enough alone.

Chapter Three

The next morning, Rita finished putting Kristy in a leotard for “Job Day” at the preschool. It was Dress Up Week, and right now, at least, Kristy was dressed as a ballerina, her dream career for when she grew up. Last week it’d been a cowgirl like her aunt Kim, the week before, an astronaut.

She wrangled her daughter’s curls into a bun using a scrunchy. “Tomorrow you get to wear a princess costume for Royalty Day.”

“Pancake Day comes after.” Kristy was admiring a beaded pink bracelet around her wrist. “What do I wear for that?”

“Your cutest pajamas, my dear.” Rita kissed Kristy’s cheek, lingering, loving the sweet smell of her. She still had that little-girl scent, sugar and spice and everything nice, and she hoped it would never go away.

When Conn had walked with her to the preschool yesterday, Rita had at first been reluctant to have him along while she picked up her daughter. But since she’d told him about Kristy “that night,” a part of her genuinely wanted to see if he would remember. And if he would get the same look on his face that he’d had after she’d revealed that she was the mother of a four-year-old.

But that was where she’d stopped with the honesty. She’d also had a total knee-jerk, ultradefensive reaction when he’d asked about her little baby bump; she’d outright lied to him that the child wasn’t his.

Right afterward, she’d known it wasn’t the right thing to do. He was the father. Yet he was also a very scattered man who wouldn’t be remotely reliable. He might even be another Kevin, so making Conn think that this was someone else’s baby seemed to be the safest choice for both of them.

Even so, Rita kept picturing Conn as he’d been in that bed, while he smiled down at her as if the news about her having a daughter already didn’t bother him at all.

“A little girl with your hair and eyes,” he’d said before caressing her again, leading her into a place where she could hope and love and forget the past.

Would he be able to show that kind of affection for a surprise baby? Kevin sure hadn’t.

Kristy hopped toward her bedroom door. “Can I do the computer now? We brushed my teeth!”

“You sure can.” Kristy often got sidetracked by everything but getting ready in the morning, so Rita had found that dangling the reward of using the laptop computer was incentive for her to stay focused.

They went to the kitchen table where Rita directed the computer to a kid-friendly page with Barbie games and went to her room to finish her own toilette.

The top floor of the hotel had always been the caretaker’s quarters and, even though the property had been handed down, generation after generation, Rita’s own family hadn’t actually lived in the suite, which was decorated with the same Victorian furniture and antiques that gave the rest of the hotel its Old West feel. It’d been too small for two parents and three children when she was younger.

But it was just right for her and Kristy and another one on the way. The three of them.

She didn’t stop to think about how it might’ve seemed a little more crowded with Kevin, had he stuck around. Or with any other man.

As she got to her bathroom, then pinned back her hair with a barrette, she tried not to think about Conn, but it was impossible not to. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t gotten in that accident? Would he have come back?

How long would he have stayed?

Heart muted, she told herself to stop dwelling on it. Instead, she forced her attention to the task of applying a little blush, then eye shadow, mascara, which she seemed low on, and pink lipstick. Then she stifled a yawn as she went to the personal calendar she kept posted on the refrigerator in the kitchen area. It mainly showed Kristy’s upcoming activities: Job Day, a slumber party tonight with Aunt Kim, Royalty Day, Pancake Day, dance and baton lessons.

All this in addition to her own schedule, which included a doctor’s appointment this week, maid-of-honor duties for Violet’s wedding this weekend, then Thanksgiving next week. She would definitely have to begin working in more time for her and her unborn baby—nap time so she wouldn’t be stressed, a little light exercise time …

Rita thought about the looks she’d been getting around town recently as she strolled the boardwalk, her tummy just beginning to show. Some glanced at her and smiled. Others had an expression on their faces as if thinking, “She never learns, does she?”

Another unplanned pregnancy. And the thing was, Rita was such a careful person. Always had been, too.

With Kevin, she’d been engaged. She hadn’t seen him for a while, because he’d needed to relocate near Houston for a job in some natural-gas fields because of the kaolin-mine closure. She’d been so young then, so unsuspecting about how life could go wrong, and she’d thought that she and Kevin would always love each other, that neither of them would ever change.

But he’d grown distant after taking the new job. It’d been a gradual thing, with him being more withdrawn during his weekend visits, with him complaining more and more about the mine closure and how life wasn’t fair. Kevin had never done well with change.

Yet Rita had merely told herself that he would get used to life as she worked her rear off in the hopes of taking time away from the hotel and attending college. She had loved him as she had during high school, when they’d been sweethearts, and after graduation, when they’d kept on seeing each other, saving their money for when they would have a family one day.

Then, one night, during a rushed bout of weekend lovemaking, something had happened. Her diaphragm hadn’t been inserted as it should’ve been—at least, that was the doctor’s guess. She’d gotten pregnant before getting married and …

Dammit, Rita, we’re not ready for a family.

Now, at the memory of Kevin’s reaction to the news, Rita turned away from the calendar. Why did it all have to come back?

Kevin demanding that she rethink their situation in life. Kevin “suggesting” that she “take care” of their “mistake.” Her finding out that their life had been a lie all along when he told her he had been seeing another woman in his “other home,” the one he lived in during the week for his job.

Him leaving Rita as an unmarried mother for that other woman.

Blowing out a breath, Rita told herself that she’d been careful with Conn, too—at least physically. It was just that, when they’d used protection, there’d been one time when the condom had slipped a little after they’d made love and he was pulling out of her …