Harlequin American Romance November 2014 Box Set: The SEAL's Holiday Babies\The Texan's Christmas\Cowboy for Hire\The Cowboy's Christmas Gift (66 page)

“I'll do you one better than that. We'll go to the women's clinic in the city. Everything's totally confidential and they'll do the test while you wait.”

Carrie looked into Kailey's eyes. “You seem to be very sure of that.”

“I've had a scare before.”

“Right.” Carrie swallowed, briefly wondering why this was the first time she was hearing about Kailey's scare but too concerned with her immediate problem to get into it. “You're sure it's confidential?”

“Positive. Come on, get your coat. I'll drive.”

Carrie went through the motions for the next hour and a half. First the drive, then the wait at the clinic, then peeing in the cup and waiting for the results. When they came, Kailey was sitting beside her.

“Well, Ms. Coulter, it seems your test is positive.”

She looked up in the nurse's face, the words echoing in her ears. “You're sure?”

The nurse's kind eyes softened. “It's very rare to have a false positive. I take it this wasn't expected.”

Carrie shook her head, her throat too tight to speak.

“Well, nothing has to be decided right away. When you're ready, we have referral services for whatever option you might choose for the pregnancy. I know it's a lot to take in right now, so let's just go over the basics.”

The nurse gently went over diet, symptoms Carrie might experience in the days to come, the importance of a follow-up appointment and a handful of literature for her to read regarding her options. Kailey helped her make an appointment for the following month and tucked the card with the details in Carrie's purse. “Come on,” Kailey said softly. “Let's get you home.”

All through the drive, Carrie's mind was racing. She was going to have a baby. The timing was so wrong. Everything was so wrong. How could she afford to have a child? How could she do the job she did with a little baby? Yes, Quinn did it, but Amber was older. Old enough for day care. How could she afford the medical bills associated with having a baby, on top of the ones she was still paying off for her mom? After the baby came, how could she possibly pay all those bills and pay for day care, too?

Then there was Duke. He made a good show of things and she'd allowed herself to hope, but the truth was she wasn't sure he meant to stay. He had such a code of honor that she knew he'd insist on supporting his child. Which might help with the initial cash problem, but also created new ones. What if Duke stayed at Crooked Valley, made it his home? How would she know if he'd done it because he wanted to, and not because he'd felt obligated because of their child? She loved him, but she wanted him to love her, too. Not out of duty, but because he just did.

She'd been forced into things by circumstances her whole life. She didn't want to put that on Duke, too. He'd been manipulated enough by Joe, just to get him to set foot on the ranch in the first place. He couldn't know about the baby. Not until he figured out what he wanted.

Kailey stayed quiet until they got back home. “Come on,” she said gently, pocketing the keys. “You're not staying alone tonight.”

“I'm not?”

“No, you're not. You're going to go inside and run a warm bath while I make us something to eat. You're going to put on your fuzziest pajamas and come out and we're going to chill. We can watch a movie or talk or whatever you want to do. But I'm staying.”

Carrie took a deep breath, utterly grateful for Kailey's loyalty, her kindness. “You're a good friend, K. The best.”

“I know that. And I know if this were me, you'd do the same. So come on. Let me take care of you for today.”

She did. Numbly, she followed Kailey into the house. She took off her shoes and got fleece pajamas out of her drawer as Kailey started the bathwater running. Steam began filling the bathroom and Carrie shivered as she undressed and got into the hot tub. The water eased into her muscles as she sank lower and let herself relax.

And it was then, only then, that the feelings rose to the surface and she started to cry.

Chapter Thirteen

Carrie couldn't afford to take more than a day off work, so the next morning she shooed Kailey out of the house, insisting she'd be fine. The cry in the tub had done wonders, and so had talking to Kailey. She'd let out all her insecurities and fears, and while Kailey didn't have the answers, she'd been a kind and supportive ear.

Carrie knew she had to tell Duke, but not yet. What would be the harm in waiting a few weeks after all? She could use the time to sort through her own feelings. And Duke could use it to decide what he wanted to do about Crooked Valley.

By midmorning she was exhausted and paused for a break when Duke came out of the big house and made his way to the barn. “You're feeling better?” he called out, and the sound of his voice sent a shiver of pleasure along her nerve endings.

She had no defenses against this man. And she was carrying his child.

“Much, thanks,” she called back, hunching her shoulders against the wind. Duke was several feet away but close enough she could lower her voice to a normal level. “A day of rest did wonders.”

He got a strange look on his face but it soon passed. “That's good,” he replied, but his eyes still looked wary. Good heavens, was her guilt written all over her face?

Maybe she should just tell him.

And then she remembered the soft way he'd smiled at Amber, how protective he tended to get whether he realized it or not. If he knew she was pregnant, would he get all weird about the physical labor required in her job? She'd like to think no, but the truth was she just wasn't sure. And right now the stability of this job was all she could count on.

“Did you get your tree?” she asked.

“I did. Do you want to see it? It's a beauty. Eight feet tall. With the star on the top, I bet it'll just about touch the ceiling in the family room.”

“It sounds lovely.”

“It'll be more lovely when it's decorated.” The awkward moment seemed to have passed, and he reached for her hand. “Maybe after work you'd like to come in. I put a chicken and vegetables in the Crock-Pot this morning. We could have some dinner at the main house and decorate it. Do it up right.”

Funny how, before yesterday, her answer would have been an automatic yes. Now she was hesitant to spend too much time with him. To get too comfortable. At the same time she craved his company.

She bit down on her lip. It wasn't just about staying on the ranch. It was really starting to sink in that having this baby meant that she'd be connected to Duke for the rest of her life—whether or not they ended up together. If they did, she'd always wonder if it was because of the baby. And if they didn't, she'd have to see him all the time, knowing how she felt about him and unable to have him.

What a freaking mess.

“Carrie, what is it? I can tell something's bothering you.” He came forward and curled a gloved hand around her neck, pulling her close. “It's more than a flu bug. More than whatever had you feeling poorly yesterday. Let me help.”

Let me help.
She was starting to know him better. He'd come to Crooked Valley and put himself at the mercy of herself and Quinn because they knew ranching. But they were still in no doubt of who was the boss. What Duke knew was how to be in charge. He wouldn't just help. He'd take over. She wasn't quite ready for that yet.

“I'm fine, I promise. Just a lot on my mind.” She looked up at him. “This time of year is difficult.” It wasn't exactly a lie. More of a particular wording to lead him to a specific conclusion.

“I should have thought of that.” His eyes were soft with compassion. “Still, come on in for dinner. Make a new memory.” His face loomed closer, the urge to kiss him greater. Her breath gathered in her chest and held, painful anticipation of the contact to come. When his lips touched hers it was as if all the best parts of Christmas mingled with all the bittersweet bits. And he had no idea of the turmoil inside her as she kissed him back, sliding one gloved hand over his shoulder as she tipped her face to his.

A discreet cough echoed through the still, frosty air and Carrie pulled back, heat rushing to her cheeks. Hadn't it just been days ago that she'd been worried about what the guys would say if they knew she was messing around with the boss? Hadn't she been worried about undermining her authority as foreman? Boy, she'd been stupid. She'd gotten involved. She'd fallen head over heels.

“Dinner sounds good,” she murmured. “But I have to go.”

“Sure,” Duke replied. “Sure thing.”

And she walked away without looking at him again.

* * *

D
UKE
HAD
PUT
some effort into dinner, Carrie could see that the moment she walked in the door. Candlelight flickered from the kitchen and the casual table and chairs there, but there was nothing casual about the table setting. He'd set it carefully with Joe and Eileen's white dishes, red plaid napkins, candles and good glassware. As she paused to take in the romantic scene, Duke took a bottle of white wine from the fridge and put it on the table, perfectly chilled.

“Dinner's almost ready,” he said, and her mouth watered from the delicious scent of roast chicken and vegetables.

“You didn't have to cook for me,” she said, folding her hands in front of her.

“I like to cook, as long as I can keep it simple,” he stated, and he took a platter and added carved chicken, potatoes and golden carrots. “The Crock-Pot is great. I put it on earlier and could work around all day without worrying about it. Whoever invented it is a genius.”

She excused herself to freshen up, and when she came back to the kitchen, Duke had uncorked the wine and poured it into two glasses. She took her seat at the table and tried very hard to act natural.

For a few moments they filled their plates, and when they finally paused, Duke raised his glass. “To a Crooked Valley Christmas,” he toasted, smiling at her.

She smiled back and picked up her glass, grossly uncomfortable now but determined to fake things as long as she could. “To Christmas,” she echoed softly.

But Duke didn't drink. “And to us,” he added, catching her gaze in the candlelight.

Her throat tightened. “To us,” she whispered, and while Duke drank from his glass, she touched hers to her lips only. The taste of the tart wine swept across her tongue as she licked her lips, but she didn't swallow any. Instead she put down her glass and picked up her knife and fork. “This looks delicious.”

Dinner went fine. The chicken was succulent and flavorful; the vegetables rich with the herbs from the chicken and broth. A fire crackled in the fireplace and Carrie knew she couldn't ask for anything more. It was that perfection that had her on edge, though, always wary. One day and the secret knowledge was driving her crazy. She wasn't good with secrets. She was a “what you see is what you get” kind of woman, and it didn't sit well that she was deliberately hiding the truth from Duke—even though she knew, intellectually, that twenty-four hours could hardly constitute keeping something from him. Wasn't it right that she should figure some things out first?

“You're not drinking the wine,” Duke observed as their plates emptied. “Don't you like it?”

“Oh,” she answered, startled. “It's fine. I'm just...just not much in the mood for it tonight.” She swallowed against the lie building in her mouth. “The food was great, but maybe it's too soon for the wine to agree with me.”

“Oh, I should have considered that,” Duke apologized, smiling at her. “Glad the food met with your approval, though.”

She looked down at her plate. It was cleaned down to the last teaspoon of gravy. One thing was for sure—pregnancy had only sharpened her appetite, not diminished it.

“So what about this tree, then?” Changing the subject was the best bet, so she stood, smiled and began collecting their dirty dishes.

“Right, the tree.” A smile lit his face. “Well, actually, I put the lights on before you showed up. So now it's just the garland and ornaments that need to go on.”

“You're the soul of efficiency, Duke. I never would have pegged you for the sentimental holiday type.”

He grabbed the platter and started putting away leftovers as she put their dishes in the dishwasher. “Me, either, really. I think it's being home, and knowing everyone is coming that's doing it. It'll be the first time we've all been together in...well, I don't know how many years.” He paused behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “And I think maybe it's you, too. This is the first year in a long time I've had someone to celebrate Christmas with. You've brought out my latent sentimental side.” He chuckled against her hair, sending delightful shivers down her back.

She moved out of his embrace, closed the dishwasher and went to examine the boxes of decorations. Gold garland was shoved into a bag in the corner of the box, and she pulled it out. “I think if we loop this around, it'll work fine.” She pulled out three, four, five balls of garland and grinned. “I think Joe was fond of big trees.”

Duke laughed and came to her aid. “Here. I'll start on the top branches. Let's plug in the lights first, though, so we can see what we're doing.”

He plugged the lights into the receptacle and the room was filled with pinpoints of colorful light. Duke hadn't scrimped. There were hundreds of them, reds, blues, greens, yellows, all sparkling from the branches of the spruce tree. “Oh, Duke. Those are beautiful.”

“Wait'll we get the rest on,” he said, standing back.

She grabbed another strand of garland and they worked their way around the branches, swooping and hanging scallops of sparkly garland on the evergreen branches. When they got to the bottom, Duke retrieved the box of ornaments and put them on the floor between them.

“Okay, go to town,” he advised, angling her a sideways grin.

They hung the glass balls with care. Interspersed with the more “formal” decorations were ones that Carrie could only assume had sentimental value. A miniature dream catcher. A maroon-and-white ball with the logo of the Colorado Avalanche, Joe's favorite hockey team. Handmade horseshoe ornaments hung with red satin ribbon. Then Duke's hand slowed as he reached into the box and pulled out a black-and-gold ornament. He held it up to the light and Carrie saw a suspicious glint in his eyes.

“Duke? What is it?”

He carefully placed the ornament in his hand. On one side was a star that said U.S. Army. On the other it said There's Strong. Then There's Army Strong.

She didn't know what to say. Perhaps Duke thought that Joe hadn't cared. Maybe now he'd understand that his grandfather had cared more than he'd ever let on. That he was proud of his son—and his grandson.

“He really did care, didn't he?”

Her eyes stung. Damn these hormones! It had to be that making her emotional. It couldn't be Duke. It couldn't be the feelings she had for him....

Except she knew that it could.

“He cared,” she said simply. “I think maybe, looking back, he didn't know how to show it after all the time had passed.”

“I always felt like he'd expected something we couldn't give.”

“Maybe, Duke, he wanted it for himself. But he understood you had to be yourself. Maybe that's why he left the ranch the way he did. To give you guys a chance at it—if you wanted it.”

Duke carefully hung the ornament on the tree, then stood back. He held out his hand to her and she took it, afraid of this thing growing between them. It was no longer about enjoying the moment. He had no idea how deep her feelings ran.

“I'm still figuring that out,” he said quietly. “It's a big decision. But I'm glad I came back. If I hadn't, I wouldn't have met you again.”

All evening she'd been wondering if she should tell him about the baby. Just when she thought she should, he came out with a reminder that he was undecided. The last thing he needed was more pressure to get stuck in a life he didn't want.

“I'm glad I met you, too, Duke. Again.” She smiled up at him hesitantly.

His brow furrowed. “Carrie, what is it? You've been acting strangely since yesterday. I know something's bothering you.” He pulled on her hand and tugged her over to the sofa to sit down. “You weren't really sick yesterday, were you?”

“What do you mean?” Her pulse rate picked up beneath his intense gaze.

“I went by your place last night to check on you, about nine o'clock. Kailey's car was in your yard and the lights were all on.”

“She came to make sure I was all right.” It wasn't a lie.

He was silent for a long time. “Carrie, if you want out, please be honest with me. We agreed that if it didn't work for either of us we'd speak up. It won't change your position here on the ranch. I promise.”

He was giving her a way out when, if she was being truthful with herself, out was the last thing she wanted. “Do you want to call it quits, Duke?”

“Nothing's changed for me,” he assured her without hesitation.

Hope. That was what that little lift beneath her rib cage was. She squeezed his fingers. “For me, either.”

“Then what happened yesterday? What's going on today? It feels like you're here, but you're somewhere else, too.”

She took a deep breath. “Before I say anything, I want you to know that...” She struggled to find the right words. “This shouldn't have any bearing on the decision you need to make about the ranch, okay? Promise me.”

He pulled back and stared at her. “What in the world are you talking about?”

Her heart was hammering now, painful against the wall of her chest. “Promise me,” she demanded.

“Fine. I promise.”

Carrie met his gaze. She'd never been so afraid of anything in her whole life—and that included the time she'd come face-to-face with a hungry mountain lion.