involved.”
“I’m as responsible for this predicament as you are.” The words weren’t news to him; he just hadn’t confronted them head-on until that point. “There is no way I can go on with my life as usual while yours is being turned upside down.”
“It’s not a predicament.”
He didn’t know what he’d expected her to say. But it hadn’t been that. They had real issues to discuss here.
“Sorry.”
She turned, her green eyes narrowed and filled with a fire he hadn’t seen there before. “We’re talking about a person here, a child’s life. My child’s life. He or she is not and will never be a predicament to me.”
“Okay…”
“Just because I didn’t choose to have a baby—or choose the father, for that matter—does not mean this pregnancy is any less valid than one I’d planned and hoped for. Because the life that results will be just as valid.”
He had the most incredible urge to pull her toward him, kiss her forehead, rub her back. He sat on his hands. “True.” The temperature was only sixty-three degrees, but in the sun, John was starting to sweat. The breeze coming over the ravine was a relief. With the sudden tightness in his chest, he was finding it a little hard to breathe.
He waited to see if she had anything more to say. And then, when it appeared she didn’t, he told her, “All the more reason for me to be involved.”
He heard her sigh. And felt it, too. “Look.” She turned on the rock until she was facing him. “You’re right. Part of the reason I came here was so you could be involved in this baby’s life if you chose. He deserves a father just like everyone else. Deserves to know his biological father if you’re interested in having him know you.” She wasn’t even stopping for air. “So, after he’s born, if you want to be involved, we’ll set up whatever visitations you need. But until then, this is just about me and the job my body has to do.”
“I disagree.” Shut up! his mind screamed. She’d just given him exactly the out he needed. And wanted. “There’ll be costs. And hardships as you find it more difficult to do certain things. For instance, what if you have to take your computer in for repair? Once you get further along, you won’t be allowed to lift heavy things.”
He was winging it. And afraid that was exactly how it sounded. Why the hell had this suddenly become so important? Just because she’d told him no?
He’d never been a man who had a problem with women in authority.
“Don’t believe everything you hear, Strickland,” she said, her tone reminding him of the friendly woman he’d known so briefly that weekend between Thanksgiving and Christmas. Very different from the self-conscious though still capable Caroline she’d been since arriving in Shelter Valley. “Kentucky women come from strong stock. Goodness, if they had to slow down the whole time they were pregnant, their families and farms would be in trouble. A small farm doesn’t run itself, you know.”
An iguana—a desert lizard—scooted by an inch from John’s shoe. Caroline watched it go.
“They’re kind of cute,” she said as it scurried away. “I read that they’re good to have around your yard at home because they eat crickets.”
“And other bugs,” John agreed. He didn’t want to talk about desert plants or wildlife anymore.
“Listen, Caroline,” he said, not even sure what she’d be listening to. Compelled by an uneasy feeling inside, he continued anyway. “As you say, that baby you’re carrying is as real as any other child conceived. He’s also my flesh and blood, and I’m not the type of man who can turn away from that responsibility. I don’t even want to.” He was surprised to find that much was true. “I’d like to be around to hear that first heartbeat. Or at least some of the heartbeats. I want to hear what the doctor has to say about his size and growth and overall health. I want to see the ultrasound that might tell us if he’s a boy or a girl.”
God, he couldn’t breathe. And he didn’t know how in hell he was going to make any of this happen. Or follow through on it. They were discussing a new life. And his world revolved around the memory of a dead woman.
“Okay.”
He blinked. Stared at her. And then down into the ravine. He loved the browns and golds of the desert. But sometimes that green just looked so good. Cool and peaceful and…breathing.
“Really?”
She nodded. “You’re his father. I have no right to deny you access to his life. As long as you understand that except where it’s absolutely necessary, you have no role in my life.”
That was that. Much easier than he’d expected.
Then why did he feel so…out of his league? Why did he feel he wanted to start running and not stop until he collapsed on the ground?
Meredith should be here. Spending the next months with him. Learning it all with him.
But she wasn’t. The pain of that was almost unbearable. As he’d known it would be. When he’d lost Meredith, he’d vowed never to have children. She’d been too much a part of that dream.
And now here he was, having a child with a woman he barely knew.
He should resent Caroline.
But he didn’t.
“CAN I ASK YOU something?”
Caroline glanced over at him, her auburn hair glinting in the light from the setting sun. “I guess.”
John didn’t know how it had happened, but they’d been there for over an hour. Sometimes talking. A lot of the time lost in their own thoughts. There was so much to discuss, so many decisions to make. But he didn’t really feel like doing these things. And, perhaps, neither did she.
He pulled out the bottles of water, opened one and handed it to her before taking a long swig from his own.
“Why did you react so strongly when I referred to the pregnancy as a predicament?”
She took a small sip of water. Recapped the bottle. Held it with both hands on the rock between her knees. He wasn’t used to spending time with women who didn’t wear makeup and was surprised by how much he liked the freshness of her natural beauty when she turned toward him.
“Have you ever looked in the mirror and wondered where you belonged?”
“No, I don’t think so,” John said slowly, watching her.
“Or considered the idea that your life was worth less than the lives of those around you?”
“No.” He’d had the usual teenage insecurities, of course. But his parents had always encouraged him to believe that the world was his to do with what he could. He’d been dreaming big his whole life.
Until the dream came crashing down.
“I have,” she said.
And although he didn’t want
