The Bride Said, 'Surprise!'

Chapter Two

Jeremy turned to face Luke contentiously, suddenly looking far older than his years. “I’m running away from home.”

Things were obviously more serious than Meg knew here, Luke thought. He glanced at Meg’s cottage. The lights were still on upstairs, but the downstairs was dark, which probably meant Meg was either in bed or getting ready for bed. Figuring the only way to keep Jeremy from running away again was to hear him out and convince him this was absolutely not the way to solve his problems with his mom, Luke suggested calmly, “How about we have a man-to-man talk before you go, then? I make a pretty mean chocolate milkshake. What do you think? Got time to stop in and have one with me?”

Clearly not wanting to be kept from his quest, Jeremy hesitated. “Will Susie, Becca and Amy be there?” he asked.

Luke shook his head matter-of-factly. “No, they’re asleep. It’ll be just the two of us. A guys only sort of thing.”

Again Jeremy had to think about it. Eventually his thirst for a chocolate milkshake won out over his need to hurry. “Okay,” he said finally. He looked at Luke seriously.

“But then I really gotta go.”

“I understand completely.” Hand on his shoulder, Luke guided the five-year-old up the sidewalk. “I think you can leave your wagon parked beside the porch. It’ll be okay.” And would also serve as a red flag to Meg if she noticed Jeremy was missing before Luke had a chance to call her.

He and Jeremy stepped inside and made their way quietly to the kitchen. Luke seated Jeremy at the kitchen counter and got out his blender. “So, how’d you get this idea?”

Jeremy propped his elbows on the counter and his chin on his hands. Oblivious to the fact his dark-auburn hair was standing on end, he watched Luke bring out ice cream, milk and chocolate syrup. “My teacher at the day care center at the hospital read us this book. It was about a little bear cub who lost his mama, and couldn’t find her anywhere. So he went off through the forest and asked all the other animals if they knew where his mama was. The chipmunk didn’t know. And the blackbird said he didn’t know, either. Anyway, the little bear just kept going until he finally found someone who knew where his mama was.”

“And where was she?” Luke asked, as he scooped ice cream into the blender.

“In the forest, down by the river, looking for her baby bear.” Jeremy’s brows knit together as he shifted closer. Still watching Luke inquisitively, he continued his recitation in all earnestness. “She was crying, too, because she couldn’t find her baby bear cub.” Briefly Jeremy’s eyes clouded up as he recounted wistfully, “They were real happy when they found each other. So I’m going to do the same thing.” Jeremy swallowed hard, then continued in a voice laced with heartfelt determination, “I’m going to ask everybody if they know who my father is until I find him. And then we’ll both be happy, too.”

“It could work,” Luke agreed slowly, irked that no one else seemed to realize how desperately Jeremy wanted and needed his father in his life. What had Meg been thinking to deprive Jeremy and his father of each other’s love? Maybe she hadn’t meant to be cruel, but she had been. And the situation was going to get worse.

Luke poured milk and chocolate syrup over the ice cream, put the lid on tight and set the glass pitcher on the base. “But first don’t you think you should get a good night’s sleep?”

“I can’t go home,” Jeremy said emphatically as color swept into his fair, freckled face. He regarded Luke defiantly. “I already left.”

And if Luke took him back now, before talking some sense into Meg, Jeremy would turn right around and leave again. Perhaps to disastrous results, Luke thought, knowing what kind of things could happen to unattended children. No one was taking this kid seriously, Luke thought furiously. Especially Meg. “I can see your dilemma.” Luke blended the shake, then poured Jeremy a glass and one for himself. He found straws for both of them and then sat down at the counter next to Jeremy. “How about putting a bedroll on my sofa just for tonight, then. You’ll go farther if you get a good night’s sleep.”

“I am kinda tired.” Jeremy finished his shake, then rubbed his eyes.

Luke got Jeremy settled on his sofa. He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Luke picked up the phone and dialed. Meg answered on the first ring. Luke identified himself, then said, “I think you’d better come over here. Now.”

“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” Meg responded, piqued. “Jeremy’s asleep.”

“He sure is,” Luke agreed grimly.

There was a pause on the other end. Suspiciously Meg asked, “How do you know that?”

“Because your son is sacked out on my sofa.”

A scant minute later Meg was at Luke’s door. She was dressed in a pair of pink cotton pajamas that buttoned up the front, and her auburn hair was damp. She smelled like soap and perfumed bath salts. “How did he get over here?” she demanded in shock and dismay as Luke ushered her in.

“He ran away from home,” Luke said.

Color rushed into Meg’s cheeks, highlighting the delicate curves of her cheekbones in her oval face. As she glanced past him at the living room sofa, where her son was curled up sound asleep, she was vulnerable in a way he hadn’t seen her since the night, the only night, they had ever made love. It was all Luke could do not to take her in his arms and hold her close.

But, knowing that was not what she—or Jeremy—needed now, Luke escorted her in to check on her son. As soon as she saw for herself he was indeed all right, Luke led her out to the kitchen, where they could talk without fear of waking any of the children. Trying not to notice how lovely she looked, Luke got out a couple of glasses and a pitcher of ice water and explained Jeremy’s thinking.

Meg felt her way into a chair. “He’s been peppering me with questions for weeks now.” She shook her head, her lower lip trembling slightly, her aqua eyes full of regret. “I had no idea he was this determined.”

Luke tore his eyes away from the soft curve of her lips and took in the enticing swell of her breasts. Returning his glance to Meg’s face, he warned her bluntly, “You’re going to have to do something.”

“I will.” Meg nodded, enthusiastically. “I’ll talk to him first thing tomorrow morning,” she promised.

“And tell him the truth?” Luke asked.

Meg nodded firmly. “That he and I are it, as far as family goes. Plenty of kids grow up in single-parent homes these days. I admit it’s a lot more common in Dallas, where we were living, than here in Laramie, but it happens just the same, and the families do just fine.” Meg shrugged her slender shoulders, the movement jiggling her breasts just enough to remind him she wasn’t wearing a bra under her pajama top.

“It’s not as if he doesn’t have any men in his life,” Meg continued defensively. “Now that Dani and Jenna are married, he will have uncles around to do guy stuff with him.”

Luke sat back in his chair. He stretched his long legs out in front of him, bumped Meg’s under the table, then shifted them to the side. “That’s probably true as far as Jake Remington goes, since he’s an independent businessman who owns a ranch. But Beau Chamberlain is a movie star. He’ll be off making movies a lot.”

“That’s true.” Meg also sat back in her chair, oblivious to the way the curve of one breast was revealed in the gape of her pale-pink pajama top. Meg kept her eyes on Luke’s as she continued defending her game plan. “Beau will have to go off on location. But he is also building a sound stage near here so he can work a lot of the time in Laramie. He’s already said Jeremy can come over and watch filming whenever he wants. The same goes for Jake. He said Jeremy is welcome out at the J&R ranch to play with his daughter, Alexandra, anytime.”

Luke shook his head. “What you are offering Jeremy is not the same as having a father, Meg.”

Meg gave him what he considered to be an outrageously self-righteous smile. “It’s the best I can do,” she said icily, slaying him with a glance. “And I would appreciate it if you would back me up on this.”

How could he, Luke wondered, when Jeremy was suffering so, and Meg was clearly in the wrong?

Meg leaned forward earnestly. “Please, Luke.” She took both his hands in hers. “Help me make Jeremy see it is okay for me to be both mother and father to him. Obviously, he’ll listen to you in a way he won’t listen to me.”

Maybe because I listen to everything your little boy has to say, Luke thought, not just what I want to hear him say. Luxuriating in the feel of her soft, slender hands warmly gripping the backs of his, Luke said, “Have you asked Kip to be a father to him?”

“Luke, I’ve told you.” Meg dropped her grip on him and sat back abruptly once again. “Jeremy isn’t Kip’s responsibility. He’s mine.” She pushed away from the table and began to pace. “You need to get that through your head, and so does Jeremy.”

“Meaning what?” Luke watched the sway of her hips beneath the loose-fitting pajama bottoms. “You haven’t told him? Or you told him and his reaction wasn’t favorable.”

Meg shoved both hands through the tousled strands of her damp auburn hair. “Meaning I was a wreck after Kip and I broke up and my parents died.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Meg?” Luke asked gruffly, aware she was hurting him whether she meant to or not by shutting him out, pushing him away.

Meg’s fair skin turned red, white, then red again. She had trouble meeting his eyes. “I’m trying to tell you that sleeping with you wasn’t the only foolish thing I did. There were other things I regret doing, too, both before and after you and I—” Meg stopped, unable to continue, and looked away. She took a deep breath, then turned back to him. Her hands knotted in front of her, she continued emotionally, “The truth is I made a series of mistakes. I’d give anything if I could go back and do it all over…do it differently. But I can’t.” She released a ragged sigh, pushed on. “And because I can’t change things, including the less-than-desirable circumstances under which Jeremy was conceived, I think it’s best that I leave those mistakes in the past, where they belong. And not hurt Jeremy or anyone else with the disclosure of the facts.”

Luke knew what she was trying to say, that there had been a third or even a fourth person in her life and in her bed. But he didn’t believe it. Meg had been so innocent and untutored the night they’d been together. And later, so upset at the passionate, uninhibited way she had behaved. He couldn’t believe she’d jumped into bed with anyone else either before or after they’d made love, no matter how upset she’d been over her parents’ deaths and her breakup with Kip. That was the kind of unplanned, unthinking thing that happened to a highly self-sufficient woman like Meg only once. On the other hand, he never would have believed she would summarily end their friendship, either, just because they’d foolishly and recklessly made love in a moment of crisis. “Then who is Jeremy’s father if it’s not me and it’s not Kip?” Luke asked bluntly, wanting her to look him in the eyes and tell him everything. Here. Now.

Meg’s jaw clenched as she spun away and haughtily resumed her pacing. “As I said, Luke, I am not discussing this with you or anyone else. What happened back then is over and done with,” Meg continued firmly, “and it’s no one else’s business but mine.”

Clearly, Meg had been hurt by whatever happened. It was obvious she felt very abandoned by whomever Jeremy’s father was, though how anyone could turn away from a cute kid like Jeremy, he didn’t know. Unless, Luke thought, Meg hadn’t been exactly forthright about the depth of her dilemma back then, and Kip or whoever Jeremy’s father was really didn’t know he was a father. If it was Kip it would have been just like Meg, Luke realized, to go to Kip and see if they could get back together and, failing that, just not tell him about the baby. Meg was so independent, self-sufficient, and responsible. Always had been. The last thing she ever would have wanted was for someone to marry her only because of the baby she was carrying. The last thing she would have wanted was a loveless marriage borne out of responsibility and nothing more.

Luke forced himself to concentrate on the dilemma at hand—how to satisfy her son’s growing curiosity about his male parentage. “But you will tell Jeremy about his father?” Clearly, Jeremy needed to be told something.

Meg nodded, reluctantly giving in just a little. “I’ll tell him the basic facts, that his father was someone I knew a long time ago. For a lot of very complicated, grown-up reasons he’s too young to understand, his father and I couldn’t get married to each other. So I decided to be both mommy and daddy to Jeremy and raise him on my own.”

Luke frowned. “I’ve talked to Jeremy, Meg. I don’t think that’s going to be enough to satisfy him.” Or me.

“It’s going to have to be,” Meg retorted, looked every bit as stubborn and determined as her son to have her way on this.

“And if it’s not?” Watching Meg finish the rest of her ice water, Luke pushed back his chair and stood, too.

“It will be,” Meg promised firmly. She looked him straight in the eye, and Luke felt the impact of their chemistry dragging him closer, like a rope around his middle, even as her defiant secrecy pushed him away. “Just as soon as Jeremy realizes I am not budging on this, either.” Brushing past him, she headed for the living room.

“Meanwhile, I want Jeremy in his own bed tonight.”

As she started for her son, Luke put a hand on her arm. “Let me do this,” he said quietly.

Meg shrugged off his concern and refused his help in a coolly determined way she never would have done six years ago, when they’d been the best of friends. “No, I’m used to carrying him. You stay with your girls.” Holding her sleeping five-year-old son in her arms so his head was on her shoulder and his legs were wrapped around her waist, Meg slipped out the door and headed across the lawn.

Luke watched her enter her house.

He knew Meg thought he had given up trying to help.

She was wrong.

Jeremy might not be his son; he still needed a man to look out for him. Whether Meg liked it or not—for the moment, anyway, until Jeremy’s real father could be found and held accountable to both Meg and Jeremy—Luke was that man.

“THANKS FOR LETTING THE GIRLS play over here today,” Luke told Patricia Weatherby the next day. Mother of five-year-old Molly Weatherby, Patricia was also a new resident to Laramie. Luke had met her at the chamber of commerce, where she now worked. Learning they had daughters the same age, Patricia had offered to have his three girls over for a play date as soon as it was convenient.

“Where are you going?” Patricia asked as Molly showed Luke’s three girls where she kept all her toys.

Luke handed over his cell phone and pager numbers. “I’ve got some business in Austin to take care of. I hope to be back around four this afternoon at the very latest.” He hadn’t done enough for Meg when her parents died. Instead of helping her through her grief, he’d foolishly and recklessly made love to her, thereby adding to her distress. Had he known then that she was already pregnant with what was probably—despite her denials—her ex-boyfriend’s child, he could have persuaded Kip Brewster to do right by Meg and their son. But he hadn’t known then.

He did now.

And, having made half a dozen phone calls and found out where Kip was, it was time to act. Hopefully, Jeremy was Kip’s son. If not, Luke decided, he would keep looking until he found the help Meg and her son needed.

THE DRIVE TO AUSTIN went swiftly. Two hours later Luke was being ushered into Kip Brewster’s office at the prestigious law firm where he worked. As they shook hands, Luke noted Kip had changed very little since they’d gone to school in Chicago. He was still physically fit, handsome in that aristocratic, male model way, and very well mannered. “Thanks for taking the time to see me on such short notice,” Luke said.

“No problem.” Kip offered Luke a chair, then circled around to sit behind his desk. “You said there was some sort of personal emergency…?”

“It concerns Meg Lockhart.”

Kip’s eyes lit up with interest, his reaction confirming, for Luke, the fact that Kip was not over Meg. Any more than he himself had ever gotten over Meg and the abrupt way their friendship had ended. “How is she?” Kip asked.

“Thriving, professionally.” Luke was pleased to report.

“And personally?” Kip’s interest sharpened as he waited for Luke’s reply.

“Never married.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Kip said with a rueful shrug. “I’m divorced.”

Luke nodded. He knew what it was like to have things work out in ways you never expected. “I’m widowed.”

“Sorry.”

Luke nodded. “Same to you.”

Silence. Knowing there was no easy way to broach this, Luke forged on. “Meg has a son.”

Kip did a double take, looking just as shocked as Luke had been initially. “Meg—a single mother?” Kip asked in a low, stunned voice.

Luke nodded. He waited, but to his frustration, Kip did not leap to the conclusion Luke would have expected him to make. Which meant he was going to have to spell it out for him. “Jeremy is five now,” Luke said patiently. “His birthday is December first. He’ll be six.”

Kip’s brow furrowed. “Did Meg adopt this son of hers?” he asked finally.

“No.” Luke exhaled slowly. “Jeremy is her biological child.”

Another pause. “I don’t suppose she was artificially inseminated,” Kip guessed reluctantly after a moment.

Luke shook his head. Again, silence fell between the two men. Wondering what it was going to take for Kip to own up to his responsibility, Luke pushed on with difficulty. “The thing is, Jeremy’s a terrific kid. And he wants to know who his father is.”

Kip continued to look baffled. “You want my law firm to find this guy?”

“I want you to take responsibility for him.”

“Whoa.” Kip lifted both hands and held them in front of him like a shield. “No can do.”

Luke had been afraid he might be met with this type of reaction. If so, it explained a lot about what Meg had been going through. “This boy needs a father,” Luke said firmly.

“I understand that,” Kip said readily enough, leaning forward in his chair. “I even sympathize. And if he were mine, I wouldn’t hesitate to do right by him. But he isn’t mine, Luke.”

So Meg hadn’t told Kip she was pregnant with Jeremy, just as Luke had thought. “Going by the birth date, you were still dating Meg when Jeremy was conceived.”

“Which makes it all the worse.” Kip frowned.

Luke’s glance narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Do you know why Meg and I broke up?” Kip rubbed the back of his neck, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

Luke shrugged. “All she would ever say on the subject was you two wanted different things out of life.”

“Sounds like Meg.” Kip shifted in his chair and shook his head. “Discreet to the max.”

Luke waited.

Finally Kip rubbed his jaw and continued, “It boiled down to a couple of things. One, I was jealous of her increasingly intimate friendship with you. And two, she wouldn’t sleep with me. Wouldn’t even come close, which in turn led to a whole host of other problems between us. So you see,” Kip concluded heavily, “whoever Jeremy’s father is, it sure as hell isn’t me.”

TWO HOURS LATER, Luke was back in Laramie and still reeling from what he had discovered. He called Patricia Weatherby on his cell phone—learned all was fine with the girls—and asked for a little more time.

He drove over to John and Lilah McCabe’s ranch. He knew as soon as they ushered him in that he was interrupting something important. They had paperwork scattered across the kitchen table and a laptop computer plugged into the phone line. “I should have called first,” Luke apologized.

“Nonsense. We’re just doing the paperwork for our trip to Central America in a few weeks. We’re doing medical relief there.”

Luke hadn’t known. “That’s wonderful,” he said as he pulled up a chair alongside them.

“What’s up?” John asked, as ready to help as ever.

Luke drew a breath and worked to ease the tenseness of his muscles. “There’s no way to broach this subject gracefully, so I’m just going to be blunt. I need to ask you a few questions in complete confidence, and they’re really important, or believe me, I wouldn’t be here right now, inquiring.”

Lilah and John exchanged concerned glances. “Go ahead,” John said as Lilah got up to pour them all some coffee.

“Was Meg Lockhart’s son, Jeremy, born here in Laramie?”

“Yes.” A quizzical expression on her face—clearly she didn’t understand why Luke was asking—Lilah set a stoneware mug down in front of Luke and filled it to the brim. Then she topped off John’s mug as well as her own.

“Was he born prematurely?” Luke forged on. “Say by about a month?”

Again Lilah and John exchanged looks that indicated they didn’t want to be in the middle of this “situation” between Luke and Meg any more than Luke wanted them there. “I don’t think that’s a question you should be asking us,” Lilah said finally, as she returned the glass carafe to the warmer and returned to her seat at the table. “Medical records are confidential.”

“I know that. I also know I could get the answer easily enough by asking around town. And I don’t want to do that. I figure enough eyebrows have been raised regarding Jeremy’s paternity as it is.”

Abruptly John McCabe looked as protective as any parent. “Have you asked Meg these questions?”

Luke nodded grimly. “I talked to her about Jeremy’s paternity yesterday. She was evasive, to say the least.”

John rubbed his jaw and continued to regard Luke thoughtfully. “And yet you still think this is your business?”

Luke took a sip of Lilah’s hot, delicious coffee. “If Jeremy was born prematurely, it is.”

John and Lilah exchanged troubled glances. “You’re saying you two…that Jeremy might be…?”

Luke sighed and shoved a hand through his hair. “Meg and I got to be very good friends when she was doing graduate work in Chicago. It was a strictly platonic relationship because we were both romantically involved with other people—except for the night her parents were killed. That night pretty much ended our friendship, at least as far as Meg was concerned.”

John and Lilah looked at each other again, sighed and linked hands. “This explains a lot,” Lilah said eventually. “Like why Meg was so upset when she learned John had met you at a medical conference and recruited you to take over for him. And why she’s been ducking you ever since.”

“I wouldn’t be asking you this if it weren’t very important to Jeremy, Meg and me.” Luke went on to explain about Jeremy’s running away the previous evening. “Despite Meg’s denials to the contrary, I assumed by Jeremy’s birth date that his father was Meg’s former boyfriend, Kip Brewster. I know Kip. I know Kip can be a little arrogant or over-the-top at times when it comes to getting what he wants, but I also knew he would want to take responsibility for his son, if he knew about him. But I just got back from talking to Kip. He says it’s not him—he never slept with her. If it wasn’t him…” He paused before stating, “I know Meg.”

She was not, had never been, promiscuous. She wouldn’t have slept with someone on the spur of the moment under normal circumstances. The only reason they had been together that way was that she had just found out her parents had died, and she was out of her mind with grief. Helpless to do anything about the circumstances that had robbed Meg and her sisters of their parents, helpless to get Meg back to Texas any sooner than the first flight out the following morning, Luke had been desperate to just get her through the night and comfort Meg in any way she wanted or needed. It had only been later, after they’d experienced such mind-blowing passion, that Luke had discovered that hot, ardent lovemaking hadn’t been what Meg wanted or needed, at least not on any rational level. Rather than lessen her despair, he had added to it.