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A Family of Her Own
A Family of Her Own
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A Family of Her Own

“What did it feel like?”

Her expression mellowed. “Like…like a butterfly’s wing inside my belly. Why?”

“Because you need to remember that moment. Tomorrow you’ll get up for the baby,” he said and left.


LETHARGY WAS SPREADING through her like a slow-moving drug, incapacitating one muscle after another until she felt almost paralyzed. She’d been in bed for two nights and a day, but it didn’t seem to matter how long she slept. She was more tired now than when she’d first hit the sack. Worse, she knew she looked terrible, but she didn’t care. Brushing her teeth was suddenly too much effort.

There was a brisk knock at her door.

Katie didn’t respond. She was afraid it was Booker coming to make her get up, and she wasn’t ready. She needed more time.

He didn’t seem to receive her telepathic “Stay away,” because he came in anyway. But he didn’t say anything. He paused briefly at the foot of her bed. Then he opened the blinds and left.

Grateful for the reprieve, Katie rolled over on her side and stared at the square patch of sky he’d revealed. The sun was just beginning to rise, painting the horizon a delicate pinkish-orange. Booker had said she’d get up today—for her baby—but he didn’t understand. She couldn’t get up for anything.

Booker’s truck started outside.

Tomorrow, she promised herself as he drove away. She’d get up for her baby tomorrow. Surely she’d feel better by then.


“THAT OLD CADILLAC’S RUNNING, but I can’t promise how long it’s going to last,” Chase said, standing in the doorway of Booker’s office.

Booker glanced up from his cluttered desk to acknowledge his mechanic’s words. Chase was only nineteen, but he had a real talent with engines. “It’s old. There’s nothing we can do about that.”

“You wanted the keys?”

“Yeah.”

Chase tossed them over. Booker caught them and slid them in his pocket. The Cadillac might be running, but Katie wouldn’t be driving it anywhere if he couldn’t get her out of bed.

“Go ahead and start the tune-up of Lila Bronwyn’s Jeep,” he told Chase. Then he turned down the radio they had blasting and tried to reach Katie. He let the phone ring nearly twenty times, hung up and called again. But she wouldn’t pick up.

“Answer, damn it,” he muttered, losing patience.

“What’s wrong?” Delbert wiped his grease-covered hands on a rag as he and Bruiser came into the office. “Are you mad? Are you mad at me, Booker?”

“I’m not mad,” Booker said, but he was getting worried. What was he going to do with Katie? She’d completely withdrawn from life. She wasn’t getting up. She wasn’t eating. She wasn’t doing anything.

He thought of her parents. Should he have told them that she couldn’t work? Would it have made a difference?

He certainly wasn’t the best person to handle this, but remembering how Tami had treated Katie at the door, how both her parents had reacted to him at the donut shop, quickly convinced him that they were part of the problem, not the solution. And it wasn’t as if he saw anyone else stepping up to help her…. She’d been gone too long and apparently hadn’t kept up with relationships. Which meant, crazy as it seemed, he was the closest thing she had to a friend.

Mike Hill’s new Escalade cruised by out front, catching Booker’s eye. Watching Mike turn on First Avenue, he thought of all the times he’d heard, from almost everyone in town, that Katie had had a crush on Mike nearly her whole life. She’d once told him herself, flat out, that she wanted to marry Mike Hill someday. But Booker hadn’t taken her too seriously. He’d never seen Mike show any interest in her, couldn’t imagine them together. They were both…good. In his opinion, they each needed a counterbalance.

But Mike was rich and dependable. Maybe the best thing Booker could do for Katie and her baby was to throw them into Mike’s lap. A friend would do something like that, right?

Picking up the phone, he called Rebecca at the salon.

“Hello?”

“Is Rebecca there?”

“Hi, Booker.”

From the voice, it was Ashleigh Evans. “How’s it going?”

“Good. Where’ve you been? I’ve missed you.”

They’d danced last Friday at the Honky Tonk, but Booker knew if he pointed that out, she’d just say Friday seemed too long ago. “I’ve been busy.”

“You promised me a ride on your bike, remember?”

How could he forget? She reminded him whenever he talked to her. “I’ll stop by the salon sometime.”

“I’m looking forward to it.”

The phone changed hands and he heard Rebecca’s voice. “I think she has a thing for you.”

“Ashleigh?”

“Yeah.”

Booker already knew that. She’d been coming on to him ever since she’d broken up with that bull rider from Boise. She’d even invited him to her place last Friday night, but his response had been decidedly lukewarm. “I need a favor,” he said.

“Really? Wow! You’ve never asked me for anything before,” Rebecca said. “You must be desperate.”

He ignored her teasing because it hit a little too close to home. He didn’t like asking for favors. He didn’t like needing anything. But this wasn’t for him—exactly. “Katie’s looking for a job.”

“I heard she’s pregnant.”

Booker braced himself for her reaction. “That’s true.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice filled with accusation.

“I figured you’d find out soon enough.”

She released a long sigh. “Some people have all the luck.”

Booker pictured how rumpled and dispirited Katie had been sitting up in her bed last night and doubted she was feeling very lucky. “I’m sure Katie would be surprised to hear you say that.”

“I’d do anything to have a baby, Booker. Especially Josh’s baby. Sometimes I love him so much I can’t even breathe, and yet I can’t give him the one thing we both want most in the world.”

Bill Peterson arrived to pick up his Camaro. Booker could hear Chase talking to him in the garage, and started searching his desk for the work order. “You’re too tense about it, Rebecca.”

“But I’m nearly thirty-three.”

“A lot of women have babies at thirty-three.”

“And everyone else is having one.”

“Everyone?”

“Delaney’s pregnant again.”

“She is?”

“She’s been holding off telling me, hoping I’d get some good news, too. But she’s gaining weight, and I guessed.”

“You’ll just have to keep trying,” Booker said. “I’m sure Josh doesn’t mind that.”

“No, he likes all the trying. He just doesn’t like how upset I get when it doesn’t work out.”

“It’s that watched-pot thing. You need to forget about it, and then it’ll probably happen.” Finding the paperwork he was looking for, Booker waved to let Mr. Peterson know he’d be right out.

“I don’t think it’s the watched-pot thing. I’m going to start taking fertility drugs,” Rebecca said.

“Do whatever works, Beck.”

“A lot of people have fertility problems.”

Fortunately Chase came in and took the paperwork out to get Bill on his way.

“I know.” Booker cleared his throat. “About that job…”

“I already offered Katie a job,” she said. “She came by here a couple of days ago. But she told me she can’t be on her feet.”

“I wasn’t thinking of having her work at Hair and Now.”

“Where, then?”

“What about the resort?”

“It’s wintertime, Booker. The resort’s overstaffed as it is because Conner and Delaney won’t lay anyone off. They’re trying to limp by until summer, but I have the impression that finances are getting tight. They need to be careful.”

“Do you think Josh and Mike might have an opening out at the ranch, then? She could do bookkeeping or answer phones behind a desk, couldn’t she? Katie’s a good friend of their family’s. Surely they can help her out until she has the baby.”

“They could probably come up with something for her to do but…I never would’ve suggested it because of you. Are you sure you want her working with Mike, Booker?”

Booker shoved away from his desk and stood. “I think it’s time Katie got what she wants.”

Silence. “What about what you want?”

“I already have what I want.”

“O-kay.” She didn’t sound convinced, but after a moment she said, “I’ll call Josh and get back to you.”


BOOKER REFUSED TO GO AWAY. He stood over Katie’s bed, scowling at her. When that didn’t work, he started pulling off blankets.

“Leave me alone,” she grumbled. “I’m tired.”

“How can you be tired?” he asked. “It’s nearly three o’clock in the afternoon, and you’ve been sleeping for two days.”

“I think there’s something wrong with me.”

“It’s called depression.”

“I’ve never had trouble with depression.”

“Then get up.”

She curled into a ball to compensate for the warmth she’d lost when he stole the covers. “I’ll get up tomorrow.”

“You’ll get up today,” he said, and from the determination in his voice, she could tell he meant it. “I’ve set up a job interview for you.”

“Where?” she asked, but she didn’t really care. Who’d want her? She couldn’t even function anymore.

“Mike Hill is looking for a secretary.”

She raised her head to blink at him. “Mike Hill?”

“That’s what I said.”

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

“No.”

She covered her eyes with her arm. “I don’t know anything about ranching.”

“You’ll be doing some type of bookkeeping.”

“I don’t know anything about bookkeeping, either.”

“He’ll teach you.”

“I’m not going out there.” She didn’t want to see anyone in her current state, but she especially didn’t want to see the man she’d always hoped to marry.

“Oh, yes you are.”

“Does he know about the baby?” she asked.

“I have no idea.”

“I’ll go anywhere but there.”

“Come on,” he said. “This is the man of your dreams, remember?”

She definitely detected sarcasm in his voice. Men weren’t part of her dreams at all anymore, but she didn’t feel quick-witted enough to explain that right now. “He’s seeing Mary Thornton, so don’t talk to me about my dreams.”

“There’s no accounting for taste.” Booker jabbed a finger at the small brown sack he’d brought in with him. “There’s a deli sandwich in there. Eat it, then go shower.”

“Okay,” she said, but only so he’d leave her in peace. As soon as she heard him move away, she grabbed the covers he’d thrown off the bed and burrowed beneath them again. Mike Hill…No way!

“Katie?” Booker spoke from the doorway, his tone a warning.

“I thought you’d left,” she grumbled.

“Don’t make me drag you out.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“That’s it.” He stomped back to the side of her bed and yanked off her covers. Then he put his hands under her arms and lifted her to her feet as though she were a child.

Katie’s legs didn’t feel strong enough to support her. She swayed and nearly crumpled, but Booker caught her against him. For a moment, before she came to her senses, she wanted to grab him and hold on for dear life. He had more street smarts than anyone she’d ever met. He was tough. And he was always his own man.

After living with a chameleon like Andy, Katie admired that. Booker was probably the only person she knew who did what he wanted and offered no lies, excuses or apologies. To anyone.

And he could be gentle. She remembered the way he’d lightly rub his whiskers on her neck while they were watching TV, then chuckle deep in his throat when she tried to fend him off. They’d end up laughing and wrestling until—

She didn’t want to remember what happened next. She’d been right to break things off with Booker. If only her intuition hadn’t abandoned her when it came to Andy…

She needed to go back to bed.

“Don’t even think about it,” Booker said when she tried to slip out of his arms. “You’re going to get cleaned up, and you’re going to do it now.”

“Yes, sir.” She tried to salute in response to his commanding tone, but she made no effort to stand by herself, let alone walk toward the bathroom.

“We can do this the hard way. Or we can do it the easy way,” he said. “Which will it be?”

Katie wasn’t sure what he was talking about. There wasn’t an easy way for anything anymore. “I told you, I’ll get up tomorrow,” she said. “I just need a little more time.”

“You need a shower, that’s what you need.” He was impatient now, and who could blame him? He was the last person she had any right to impose on. At twenty-five, she had no right to impose on anyone. But she couldn’t stay with Andy, she couldn’t work, and she couldn’t rely on any of the people who were supposed to love her. She didn’t seem to have a whole lot of options. Who would’ve thought one tiny baby could make such a difference? She should never have let her birth control lapse. She wouldn’t have, if she and Andy had been making love. But before they created this baby, they hadn’t touched in weeks. Then one day Andy broke down crying, acknowledged his need for help, agreed to go into rehab, and begged and pleaded with her to make love with him one more time to prove that she was willing to forgive him. Katie had been stupid enough to feel sorry for him, to want to console him. And they’d used a condom, but it hadn’t been enough.

Booker sat her on the bed and stalked into the bathroom. The pipes clanged as the water went on a few seconds later. She could hear him moving around, walking in and out of the room, but she wrapped herself in the covers and paid no attention.

When he returned, he didn’t drag her off the bed again. He merely pushed the bedding away and started pulling off the sweatshirt she’d been wearing, with nothing but a pair of panties, for two days.

She used her arms to block him before he could discover that she wasn’t wearing a bra. “What are you doing?”

“What do you think?” he asked. “Since you won’t get up and take a shower, I’m going to give you a bath.”

“Don’t you think I’m a bit too old for that?”

“You’re not leaving me any alternative.”

“Fine. Good luck.” Strangely indifferent, she dropped her arms. He’d seen her naked before. He didn’t seem particularly interested in seeing her again. And she had no energy with which to fight him. A woman had to care to be humiliated, and Katie simply didn’t.

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