day,” Nathan remarked. “Or has Doc decided he likes working at the clinic again and you’re going to shorten your hours?”
“No chance of that. I did have to call him today, though. Something came up and I had to leave for a while. I thought I’d take Patches back with me.”
“Why don’t I go get Kyle and Patches,” Sara suggested heading for the hook at the back door where her coat hung. She motioned to the canister on the counter. “Freshly baked oatmeal cookies are in there.” She stopped in front of Sam. “I’m glad you’re back in plenty of time for the wedding.”
“Have you decided on a honeymoon?”
When Nathan and Sara had come to the cabin after the New Year to tell him their good news and their wedding date, they hadn’t decided yet about going away.
“I made reservations in St. Cloud for two nights,” Nathan explained. “We don’t want to be away from Kyle any longer than that right now. He’s still adjusting to having Sara as a mom.”
“I’ll be right back,” Sara promised, opening the door. She blew Nathan a kiss and then was gone.
Nathan, looking happier than Sam had ever seen him, crossed to the counter and pulled out the cookie jar. “Interested?”
Sam was still worried about Corrie. He didn’t like the idea that she was at her place alone when she didn’t feel her best. “No, I’m fine.”
“Turning down homemade cookies? What’s wrong, Sam?”
“Nothing’s wrong.”
“Why did you need a few hours away from the clinic when you just got back?” Nathan asked, in that olderbrother, I-want-to-know-everything tone.
“As I said—”
“Something came up…” Nathan filled in dryly.
“Yeah.”
This morning, when he’d dropped off Patches, Sam hadn’t gone into detail about why he’d returned to Rapid Creek before Friday, when he’d planned to drive home. He could spar with his brother and sidestep his questions, but there was no point in postponing the inevitable. Sam didn’t keep much from Nathan or Ben and the same was true with them. They’d always been available for each other at the important times in their lives.
Unzipping his jacket, Sam shrugged it off and hung it around one of the chairs at the table. “You know Corrie Edwards?”
“Sure.”
“She came up to the cabin on Saturday.”
Nathan’s brows arched and he waited.
“You’re not going to believe this, but she wants to have a baby. She wants me to donate my sperm.”
“You’re not thinking about doing it, are you?”
Sam remained silent.
“Sam?”
“I’m not sure how to say this, Nathan. I don’t want to compare my situation to yours, but you lost a baby when Kyle was born and I know you know how that feels.”
Nathan’s first wife had died in childbirth and Kyle’s twin had died with her. Colleen had had trouble conceiving. Although the couple hadn’t known it at the time, Sara had been the one to donate her eggs to help them. Nathan had returned to Rapid Creek with Kyle to recover from his loss. But he hadn’t truly recovered until Sara had come into his life this past November.
“You’re talking about Alicia’s abortion.”
“Yeah, I am. When I found out she’d terminated her pregnancy—It just tore me up. That was my baby, my son or daughter.”
“I do know how hard that must have been.”
“Let’s face it, Nathan. When our mother left, it damaged all of us in ways we didn’t even know. We saw what it did to Dad but we were just as affected. Somehow you managed to forget about her. When you married Colleen, you picked a good woman, and now with Sara you’ve chosen wisely again.”
“She’s the best.”
Sam knew Nathan meant that and he agreed. He liked Sara a lot. “I think you made up your mind that our mother was just one selfish woman who wanted a Ph.D., life in a big city and her future in England more than she wanted us. But Ben and I—I think we believe all women are like her—selfish, with their own agendas. I mean, why couldn’t I see just who Alicia was? Why couldn’t I see children were the farthest thing from her mind? Oh, sure, we talked about having kids and she said she wanted them someday. But to her someday was way off in the future and I didn’t realize that. I picked someone exactly like our mother. I just can’t see me ever getting married.”
“So you’re actually considering Corrie’s idea?”
“At first I thought it was ludicrous. I thought she was crazy to want me to father her child. But the more I think about it…I realize it would be a way to be a dad without all the complications of marriage.”
Nathan was already shaking his head. “You might not have marriage complications, but there will be complications. It’s hard enough to raise a child when two people are connected. Sara and I still have differences of opinion sometimes on what’s best for Kyle. She’s helping me see I’ve been way too protective. We keep reminding each other we’re looking in the same direction. We both want what’s best for Kyle. But for two people who are relative strangers to try to parent together—”
“You and Sara were strangers before November. If Corrie and I become friends, we’ll be able to parent.”
“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?”
“I just know the idea…appeals to me.”
“So what was the emergency today? Why did you need time off?”
Sam told his brother about the accident and what had happened at the clinic this morning.
At his brother’s concerned expression, Sam was quick to assure him, “She’s going to be okay. The doc at the E.R. said the seat belt bruised her. I picked up groceries and lunch for her.”
Away from Corrie now, Sam told himself he really wasn’t attracted to her. He was just finally over Alicia and he was coming alive again with the realization he hadn’t been with a woman for a long time. But when he closed his eyes, he saw those freckles on Corrie’s nose. He remembered how her curls fell around her face. He recalled the sensation of holding her in his arms.
“So what are you going to do?” Nathan asked him.
“I’m going back to the clinic and concentrate on work. I won’t do anything until I know for sure what I should do.”
“That sounds reasonable, but I just want to warn you, Sam—when kids and women are involved, reason doesn’t always do a whole lot of good.”
That was something Sam could think about while he was figuring out whether or not he wanted to be a dad.
Corrie
