Who Will Father My Baby? by Donna Clayton

Author:Donna Clayton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2013-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Lacy thanked her lucky stars when Alva happened upon her so quickly after she discovered that her car wouldn’t start. He’d popped open the hood, tinkered with the engine, and then left her sitting in the shade of Dane’s porch while he drove his truck to the automotive store.

The elderly man was a lifesaver. He’d happily and graciously offered to fix her car when he returned. Alva was a shining example of a fine southern gentleman, not like some other people Lacy knew.

She shoved the dark thoughts of Dane from her mind.

Lacy hadn’t wanted to remain behind, but when she’d eagerly suggested she accompany Alva to the store, he’d explained that he had an errand or two of his own that needed running…errands, she’d guessed from his unspoken insinuation, that needed a bit of privacy. So she’d found shelter from the hot afternoon sun by sitting in the shade of Dane’s front porch. And that’s where he found her just after Alva had driven off.

“Car trouble?”

“Don’t you worry,” she told him, her clipped tone the result of her overwhelming hurt knowing he had refused all that she had offered him. “It’s just a dead battery. Your father-in-law was kind enough to offer to go after another one for me. As soon as he gets back, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Why didn’t he just give you a jump start? That battery must have been in pretty bad shape.” After a moment, Dane said, “Well, come on inside. You can wait where it’s cool.”

“No thank you. I’m fine right here.”

She looked out over the horizon, watched the cattle that dotted the landscape. She heard him sigh.

“Come on, Lacy,” he said quietly. “Don’t sulk. Come inside. He’s going to be gone a while.”

“Sulk?” Her back went rigid. She should have asked what he’d meant when he said Alva would be gone a while, but she was too busy feeling insulted. “I’ll have you know I have never sulked in my life.”

His chuckle was soft, and with it he clearly communicated that he disagreed with her. As glares go, she was proud of the one she speared him with. But he didn’t seem the least bit affected by it.

“If you’re not sulking,” he continued with undisguised humor in his voice, “do you mind telling me why your shoulders are as tight as an overcoiled spring and your mouth is puckered up like you just sunk your teeth into a plump, juicy lemon?”

She looked at him a moment. She hated to admit he was right. But she was sulking.

Lacy released the tension that had built up in her body. Inhaling deeply, she tucked her top lip between her teeth and glanced down at her scuffed and dusty canvas sneakers. She exhaled slowly.

She wasn’t being fair to Dane.

If he couldn’t bring himself to talk about his pain, he couldn’t do it. There was no forcing it.

She had never been widowed. Had never lost a child. She probably couldn’t even imagine the anguish he’d experienced.

She forced her gaze to lift to his.

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