Bachelor Father

His grin was wry. “I wasn’t going for elegance.” He crossed to the wall phone hanging behind the rocker. “Have a seat,” he said, gesturing to the kitchen chairs. “I’ll call the towing company and then see what I have in the cupboard.”

“I don’t really need anything,” Katherine said. It wasn’t quite true. Her stomach was grumbling because she’d been too nervous to eat lunch. But she didn’t want to bother him when she’d be back at the lodge in a couple of hours at the most. She’d eat then.

“Well, I’m going to have something.” He picked up the receiver and started to punch out a number. He paused and clicked the hang-up button a couple of times. Then he clicked it again. Finally he replaced the receiver and turned to her. “Maybe you’d better reconsider having something to eat.”

Anxiety added to the turmoil in her stomach. “What’s wrong?” But she knew exactly what was wrong.

“This storm must be worse than I thought. It’s knocked out the phone. Looks like we’ll be here awhile.”

CHAPTER FOUR

“HOW LONG DO YOU THINK the phone line will be out?” Katherine quickly calculated whether the baby’s needs could be met for the next few hours. She always packed more than enough diapers, and she’d brought an extra terry sleeper. Food was no problem.

Zeke sighed and walked over to peer out the window. “No telling where the lines are down. Out here the telephone can be out quite a while before anyone notices or reports it. It serves mostly vacation cabins, which aren’t used all the time.” He turned toward her with a worried frown. “I should have headed back to the lodge and said to hell with the wheel rim. I’m sorry, Katherine.”

“Don’t worry about it.” To her surprise, she wasn’t sorry at all. If he’d been able to call a tow truck they’d have parted within a couple of hours. Now they had more time. She wasn’t sure if that would change his mind about keeping some connection with Amanda, but it might.

“I could hike out to the road and try to catch a ride back to the lodge.”

“That seems completely unnecessary.” If he left, that would destroy any hope that he’d bond with Amanda.

“You’d be fine. You’d be safe here and there’s plenty of food.”

“I’d still rather you didn’t leave us alone.”

“You won’t get washed away, if that’s what you’re thinking. We’re much higher than the creek.”

She was unwilling to admit why she wanted him to stay, but she could offer him a reason he might accept, one that was also true. “I wasn’t thinking of water, but speaking of that, did I ever tell you how I fell in the river in the first place?”

“I don’t think we got around to that.”

Because we had other things on our minds. She became aware that this one-room cabin put them in close proximity to a bed. Not that she would allow herself to get involved with him in that way again. They’d created enough problems for each other as it was. It was a beautiful bed made of peeled and sanded logs, a big bed, a soft-looking bed, a—”How did you fall in the river?” he prompted.

She blushed and turned her attention away from the bed. She hoped she didn’t have a telltale lustful expression on her face. “I was crossing the river on a log. A pretty fat log, too, so I shouldn’t have had any trouble making it. Then I heard a snuffling noise behind me, looked over my shoulder and saw a bear at the edge of the river.”

“What kind of bear?”

“A big bear.”

He smiled. “I meant the breed.”

“I didn’t stop to ask him his pedigree. I just started scrambling across that log like a squirrel with its tail on fire, only I’m not as sure-footed as a squirrel, and I fell in. As I headed downstream, I thought maybe it wasn’t such a bad escape method, but then I couldn’t stop myself and I kept going under, so I figured I’d probably drown. But at least that was better than being eaten by a bear.”

He chuckled. “Far better.”

“In my opinion.” She liked making him laugh. She’d forgotten that she had that power. He’d told her that not many people got him to relax enough to laugh.

“For the record, I doubt you had much to worry about from that bear,” he said. “He was probably after trout, not magazine editors.”

“Oh, yeah? Maybe it was a grizz.” She took her hands away from Amanda’s sling and lifted them menacingly, curling her fingers into claws.

“A grizz?” He grinned. “Are you trying to speak the lingo, New York lady?”

He’d teased her with that label last summer. As the night had progressed, he’d switched to calling her his New York lady. His use of the term now sent a shiver of reaction up her spine, but she tried to keep her tone light. “I’m trying to tell you that I’d rather not stay in this cabin alone with Amanda when it’s possible a bear could come along and bash down your cabin door.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Do you or do you not have bears around here?”

“All right, there is a black bear that hangs around this area.” He stroked his chin and his dark eyes sparkled. “And maybe she’s been up on the porch a couple of times, but—”

“On the porch?” Katherine hugged Amanda tighter. “That does it. You’re staying here with us until such time as we get escorted out of here by a burly guy driving a monster tow truck. Do I make myself clear, ranger man?” If he could toss out the nickname he’d given her that night, she could toss out his.

The laughter in his eyes faded, to be replaced with something more potent. “I don’t know how long we’ll be here.”

“I don’t care. I—”

“I do.”

She met his gaze. “You really want us out of your life, don’t you?” she said softly.

“Yes.”

* * *

ZEKE TURNED AWAY from the pain flickering in Katherine’s eyes. Sometimes the truth hurt, as he well knew. There was nothing more to say, so he’d better get some food on the table. Fortunately he’d done a little shopping the day before and had most of the basics.

He walked over to the kitchen cupboard and took down a can of tuna. “How about a tuna sandwich?”

“That’s fine.” Her voice held none of the playfulness from a moment ago, when she’d been describing her bear experience.

For a brief time during that conversation about the bear, he’d forgotten their situation and had found himself enjoying the Katherine he’d known a year ago, the one who had caused him to lower his defenses. He’d be wise not to lower them again.

“Can I help in any way?” she asked.

“I’ll take care of it.” He’d really done himself in this time, Zeke thought. Although he wasn’t planning to tell Katherine yet, there had been times when the phone had been out for several days. He wasn’t about to stay here with her for days, though. If necessary, he’d drive the truck the way it was. He’d rather have mega-repair bills than spend that amount of time here with Katherine and the baby. He didn’t want to get in any deeper than he already was.

He put on some coffee and started working on the sandwiches while Katherine talked to Amanda in that cozy way she had. When she crooned to the baby in such an intimate tone he felt closed out, which might be how she wanted him to feel after the way he’d come across about the parental rights thing. But he knew himself, and being a part-time father would tear him apart. It was a situation guaranteed to produce misunderstandings and potential rejection. He had a very low tolerance for rejection, but he wasn’t going to expose himself enough to explain that to her.

Rain pelted the window over the sink as he worked on lunch. He listened to it come down and thought about the creek bridge. Most likely the beaver dam upstream had given way, and if he wanted to get back across that bridge in the truck, he’d have to make his move soon. Obviously Katherine wasn’t going to let him go without her. He wasn’t crazy about the idea of leaving her, either, although he thought she’d be safe enough, especially if he showed her how to fire his gun to scare off Sadie if she showed up.

But he doubted she’d agree to that procedure, and there was no way he could force her to stay behind. He decided to wait an hour. If the phone wasn’t working by then, he’d suggest they drive the truck on the flat tire, get back on the main road and look for the nearest phone.

“Zeke?”

“Yeah?” He kept working on the sandwiches instead of turning around. The busier he kept himself, the better.

“I understand that you want to give up all your rights to Amanda and have no more contact with us, but I was wondering if...if you’d mind her knowing something about you.”

A warning flashed in his brain. “Such as?”

“Well, that you love the outdoors, and you’re part Sioux. Things like that.”

The concept of Amanda being curious about her father hadn’t even occurred to him. He’d been so focused on getting mother and baby out of his life that he’d forgotten Amanda wouldn’t always be a baby. And kids wanted to know about their parents. He still wondered about his father and had done some fruitless research trying to find out who he was and what had happened to him.

“I could disguise the information so she wouldn’t be able to track you down,” Katherine said, “if that’s what you’re worried about.”

He picked up the two sandwich plates and walked over to the table where she sat holding the baby. “Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about.” He also wondered how a grown-up Amanda would take the news that he hadn’t wanted to have anything to do with her. Damn, but this was getting dicey.

“I think it would be better to give her some information rather than make you a big question mark,” Katherine said.

“Maybe.” He set down the sandwiches. “I made coffee, but I guess you can’t have that. I suppose beer’s out, too. I have orange juice and—”

“Actually, a beer would be fine. I have one once in a while when I’m afraid stress might have decreased my flow of milk.”

His glance went immediately to her full breasts underneath the gauzy material of her green blouse. Fortunately he had the presence of mind to quickly look up again. He couldn’t be caught staring at her. “I’ll get you a beer.” He walked over to the refrigerator and tried to ignore his memory’s instant replay of Katherine poised above him, her breasts quivering with each upward thrust he made.

By the time he returned to the table with a foaming glass of beer in one hand and his mug of coffee in the other, he’d calmed himself.

“Thank you.” She gave him a brief smile.

He realized that her smiles were in short supply this trip, too. He’d been proud of himself when he’d made her smile the first time after fishing her out of the river. She’d been so damned scared that she hadn’t been able to stop shaking. He’d asked her country-bumpkin questions about life in the big city until at long last he’d coaxed her into smiling a little. That was the first moment he’d realized that he wanted more than a smile from her.

He’d never in a million years have guessed that such a moment could lead him to this. Silently he gazed at Katherine as she sat across the table from him. She’d taken Amanda out of the sling, and now she tucked the baby in the crook of her arm as she sipped her beer. A bit of foam clung to her upper lip and she licked it away with her tongue. An arrow of desire shot straight to Zeke’s groin. He’d have to get her out of here soon.

He took a bracing drink of his coffee and realized how much he’d hate to give up coffee if he were in her shoes. A mother’s self-sacrificing behavior held a certain fascination for him, probably because he hadn’t experienced any from his own mother. At least none he knew of. At Lost Springs they’d tried to convince him that his mother had been self-sacrificing when she’d left him at the ranch. It hadn’t felt that way then, and it still didn’t.

“So what would you like me to tell Amanda about you?” Katherine asked.

He picked up his sandwich. “Persistent, aren’t we?”

“I figure I won’t get another shot at this.”

He paused, his sandwich halfway to his mouth. “Tell her I was a selfish son of a gun who wasn’t cut out to be a father.” He bit into the sandwich.

“I’d like to tell her that you saved my life.”

He glanced up.

“Without you I wouldn’t be here now,” she said quietly. “And neither would she. And I don’t want to deliberately lie to her. You’re not selfish.”

He chewed and swallowed. “Sure I am. If I weren’t, I’d want some sort of joint custody.”

She gazed at him. “I don’t believe that you’re denying yourself that out of selfishness. I think...” Her voice trailed off as her expression softened.

He didn’t want to ask what she was thinking when she looked like that. He’d seen that expression before, and he was no match for it. “You’d better eat that sandwich,” he said a little too gruffly. “Keep up your strength.”

Almost like an obedient child she picked up the sandwich, but having only the use of one hand, she fumbled with it. Some of the filling spilled out as she tried to maneuver it to her mouth.

She obviously needed some help so she could eat properly, but Zeke didn’t want to volunteer to hold Amanda. Funny things happened to his insides whenever he ended up touching that baby. “Would you like me to get her seat out of the truck?” he asked.

Katherine glanced outside where the rain cascaded off the front porch roof in a continuous waterfall. “No sense in going back out in that until it lets up. But I could put her on your bed, if you wouldn’t mind.”

“She won’t roll off?”

“She can’t roll yet.” Katherine pushed back her chair and stood, holding Amanda in both arms.

“Today might be her day to start.”

“Not likely. I’ll put her blanket and changing pad on your bedspread to protect it.”

“I’m not worried about that. I just think it’s dangerous to leave her there with no rails on the bed or anything.” Zeke surveyed his little cabin for a better solution. “Hang on a minute. I think I have just the thing.” He walked over to the fireplace and took the kindling out of an oval copper kettle he’d bought at a garage sale. He turned the kettle upside down and tapped it to get any scraps out, then crossed to the bed and took the spread off. Folding it, he tucked it into the kettle, letting the excess spill out and pad the sides.

Feeling proud of himself, he set it down next to the table. “How’s that?”

“That’s...” She looked at him and her eyes started to fill. She quickly averted her face.

He was crushed. “Okay. Stupid idea. Of course you don’t want to put her in an old kindling kettle. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He stooped down to pull the bedspread back out.

“No, stop!” She sniffed and wiped at her cheeks with her free hand. “It’s a perfect idea. I love it.”

He stared at her, completely at sea. “Then why are you crying?”

“Because...” She swallowed. “Because, when you put that bassinet together, it was almost as if...well, you were acting like a f-father. And I didn’t realize how m-much I wanted you to...oh, forget it.” She choked back a sob and crouched down to lay Amanda in the makeshift bed.

Zeke stood there, hands clenched at his sides as he fought the urge to take her in his arms and tell her he’d do whatever she needed him to. He wanted to promise that he’d do his best to shield her and the baby from whatever disasters came their way, that he’d be the anchor she so desperately seemed to want.

But he’d be making empty promises. He couldn’t follow her to New York and live in her world in order to keep those promises, and he doubted she wanted him to. He wasn’t the sort of warm, easygoing man that women liked to have around on a regular basis, and Katherine had proved that by leaving last summer. So he said nothing and returned to take his seat at the table.

She fussed with Amanda for quite a while, and he figured she was getting herself under control. She’d had a hard time the past few months, he was sure. She’d said the pregnancy hadn’t been easy, and from what he’d heard childbirth was no picnic, either, especially when you had to face it alone. He probably didn’t want to know what she’d been through bringing Amanda into the world. He’d only have the urge to make it up to her.

“There.” She sat down at the table again, clear-eyed. “Shouldn’t you try the phone again?”

“Yep.” He got up and went over to pick up the receiver. “It’s still out.”

“Oh, well.” She’d adopted a breezy air. “I’m sure it’ll be connected soon, and then we can get out of your hair.” She started on her sandwich.

“I’m sure you’ll be glad to get back to New York. You must be good at your job if Naomi Rutledge wants you to take over the whole magazine.” Talking about her work felt safe—it reminded him of the distance between their very different worlds.

She swallowed a bite of tuna. “She blew me away with that news. Sure, we get along well, and she’s been super through this pregnancy, but I never in the world imagined she wanted me to be her replacement.”

“Sounds like a lot of responsibility.” He’d hate being tied down like that.

“It is.” She took another sip of her beer. “And I’m sort of scared, but the time I spent in Yellowstone last year has given me more confidence in myself.” She glanced at him. “Up until I fell into the river, at any rate. That was pretty inept. But before that I’d been alone for almost two days and I really had time to think and evaluate my strengths and weaknesses honestly. I decided I was more capable than I gave myself credit for.”

He shoved away his empty sandwich plate. “Time alone can be a good thing.”

“I would expect you to think so. I don’t hunger for that kind of isolation all the time, but I learned a lot during that trip.”

Maybe that had been why she’d made love to him so eagerly, he thought. Feeling self-sufficient in the wilderness could give someone a real high. Add to that the adrenaline rush of nearly dying, and it was no wonder she’d wanted the earthy physical release sex could bring. It probably had nothing to do with him. Any reasonably decent guy would have served the purpose.

“I didn’t know you were raised on a boys’ ranch,” she said.

He grew uneasy. “That’s something you probably shouldn’t tell Amanda. She could trace me in no time if she knew to start at Lost Springs.”

She finished her sandwich and picked up her glass of beer. “You honestly don’t think you’ll ever want to see her? Not even when she’s an adult and wouldn’t require any caretaking?”

He picked up their plates and carried them over to the sink. “Look, Katherine, I don’t know the first thing about being a father. I never knew my own. The Duncans, the people who ran Lost Springs when I was there, were wonderful to all of us, but it wasn’t the same as having your very own father and mother who had all your baby pictures and remembered when you said your first word and got your first tooth.” He rinsed the plates. “I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea how to treat a daughter, but you obviously do, so the best thing is for you to handle this alone.”

“I guess you can’t be any plainer than that.”

He dried his hands on a towel hanging by the sink and turned back to her. “I’m trying to be as honest as I can, both with myself and with you.”

Her smile was tremulous. “Same here.”

“Then I guess we understand each other.”

“I understand.” She blinked, but there were no tears this time. Then she glanced down at the kettle where Amanda lay. “And I’ll figure out some way to make her understand, too.”

It was a sucker punch, and he felt it down to his toes. Amanda lay cradled by the green bedspread, fast asleep. As a kid he’d raised dozens of baby animals whose mothers were killed by predators or on the highway. As a ranger he was still doing it. Yet in all that time of nursing young wildlife, he’d never seen any creature look more vulnerable and in need of care than this tiny baby. And he was turning his back on her.

CHAPTER FIVE

SITTING IN A COOL CABIN in damp clothes gave Katherine goose bumps now that she didn’t have Amanda to keep her warm. At least that’s what she told herself. It couldn’t be nerves, or the fact that without the baby in her arms, she began wondering what it would be like to hold Zeke again.

She looked for a thermostat on the wall and found none. She guessed that the fireplace provided the cabin’s only heat, and she couldn’t ask Zeke to build a fire when they could be leaving at any moment.

Picking up her beer glass, she left the table and moved around the cabin. She pretended to be interested in what she found, when her true motivation was to get rid of her jittery chilled feeling. She touched the log walls. “Did you peel the bark off yourself, or did you have some help?” She was pretty sure of the answer, but it seemed like a safe topic and she didn’t like the sound of silence. She became far too aware of his body when they both stopped talking.

“I did it myself.”

Of course he had. The original Lone Ranger. He might as well wear a black mask over his eyes and ride a horse named Silver. But even the Lone Ranger had Tonto. “So none of your friends from Lost Springs came over to help?”

“I invited them after I was finished.”

“Oh.” She gazed at the fireplace with its thick plank serving as a mantel. Something was carved into the front edge. She looked closer and saw that it was a tiny pine tree, all by itself. So Zeke had a brand, of sorts. The more she studied it, the more the carving irritated her. What right did he have to declare himself an island, especially when fate had given him a child?

And why was she being so noble about the whole thing and quietly accepting his decision to reject fatherhood completely? Naomi might think that was the best course of action, but Katherine would be the one trying to explain to Amanda that her father wanted nothing to do with her because he was a lone wolf with no ties and intended to keep it that way.

She turned toward the kitchen area, where he was straightening things up after their lunch. “I’ve changed my mind about something.”

“Oh?” He hung the towel up and walked over to the table, but instead of sitting down, he placed both hands on the chair back, as if he needed to grip something while he heard what she had to say.

And he probably did, she thought. She had a tight hold on the beer glass herself. “I told you at the lodge that I didn’t come here to get any money from you, and that’s what I’d decided because I pretty much blamed myself for this pregnancy.” She squared her shoulders. “But I’m not to blame. I took precautions. They just didn’t work. So it’s silly of me to shoulder all the financial responsibility. And besides that, if you send something every month, that will at least let Amanda know you care about her in some fashion.”

He frowned. “I’ll send it, but I wouldn’t do it so she’d know I was thinking of her. In fact, I’d rather she didn’t know where the money came from.”

“Sorry.” Katherine warmed to the fight. “You’re overruled. And I’ll tell you why. You just said yourself that not having your mother and father around when you were growing up left you unable to relate to a child. I don’t want Amanda to have that problem. I want her to know that she has a father, and although he’s emotionally unable to connect with her, he at least gives of himself in the form of a check every month.”

He looked like a cornered animal as his dark eyes blazed. “And I suppose you’d encourage her to write to me, and eventually you’d suggest that she come here for a visit.”

“Absolutely not! Do you think I’d take a chance with her fragile young ego? I wouldn’t want her to get here and be brutally rejected.”

“I wouldn’t—”

“Wouldn’t you? Every single time I’ve tried to bring the two of you together, you’ve acted as if she has some contagious disease.”

“But she’s a baby!” he bellowed. “I’ve never been around babies! I don’t know anything about them. I might accidentally hurt her. Or worse!”

Amanda began to cry.

Katherine glared at him and crossed the room to pick up the baby. “You certainly know how to scare her to death.”