now, though, she was going home with Matt. Not part of the plan but so far nothing else had been either. “Since you’re obviously not working as a surgeon out here, what kind of practice do you run?”
“Well, I suppose you could call it a family practice or a general practice. The doc who had it before me called it a cowboy practice, and I think that works. Bottom line, I’ll get to treat everything as long as I’m here.”
As long as he was here. Suddenly, Ellie felt discouraged and disappointed. She’d wanted him to want their baby—it would have been the perfect solution. But there was no solution now. At least, not one she could think of. The thought of that brought tears to her eyes—tears Matt would never see as she turned her head to the window and pretended to be caught up in night-time stars.
“You have two choices. There’s a casita adjoining the house and it has everything you’ll need if you want to sleep there tonight. Or you can stay in one of the guest bedrooms. Your choice.”
“How about the casita, since I don’t feel like climbing stairs? My legs are a little stiff from the drive. Back’s a little achy, too.”
“Does your doctor know what you did?” Matt asked, leading Ellie through the hall to the entry to the casita—a nice little one-bedroom house with a small kitchen and a reasonably large living area. Traditionally, a casita was used by a family member or long-term guest. Or tonight, his two-night fling in Reno.
That was an odd question—out of the blue asking her doctor’s opinion. Did Matt suspect she was pregnant? Quickly, she looked to make sure her belly hadn’t puffed out a few inches and she hadn’t noticed. But that wasn’t the case. Underneath her baggy cotton shirt, it showed. But not with the shirt on. Whatever the case, she approached her answers cautiously because she was too tired and discouraged to address anything other than sleep tonight.
“No. I really don’t have to account to anybody for anything in my life, and that includes my doctor. And before you ask, he would have advised against the drive until I was on vitamins with iron for a few days. Low-grade anemia. Nothing serious. But, like I said, I make my own decisions, and I decided to come to Forgeburn for a holiday.”
“As you’ve said,” Matt stated. He opened the door to the casita then stepped aside. “Well, whatever the case, it should take me about an hour to fix something to eat, so in the meantime I’d suggest you rest. There’s a nice patio outside, and there’s the bedroom...your choice.”
“You really don’t have to do this, Matt. I’m used to taking care of myself. The Red Canyon Resort would be fine.”
“You look run-down. I wouldn’t call that taking care of yourself.”
“I work hard. Travel a lot. My business is growing, and I’ve got some amazing opportunities coming up. Also, like I said, it’s low-grade anemia. All that earns me the right to look run-down. But a good night’s sleep will work wonders.”
He knew better, though, because he was beginning to suspect. “Well, then, dinner’s in an hour. And I don’t remember. Are you a vegetarian? I seem to recall you might be.”
“I am,” she said. “Hope that doesn’t put you to any trouble.”
“Nope. Because all I have here are chicken nuggets and hot dogs, neither of which are very good.”
“Not healthy for Lucas either. Or you, for that matter.” With that, she entered the casita and shut the door behind her, leaving Matt to stand in the hall staring at—nothing. He was staring at nothing. Until a tug on his shirt tail reminded him that Lucas needed to be fed, bathed and put to bed before anything else happened.
* * *
Matt sighed as he sat on the veranda, looking up at the stars. It was a beautiful night. Clear. And the view from this house was stunning. Growing up here, he’d never thought anything about the area was stunning. Not the scenery, the people, the wildlife. Especially not the cramped, rundown house trailers he’d grown up in, where his dad had got the bed, his sister the sofa, and he had been welcome to any spot he could find on the floor that wasn’t cluttered with some sort of rubbish. Trailers in a rubbish lot, parked and ready to go for scrap.
He’d escaped that when he’d been sixteen. Had run away to Las Vegas, promising Janice he’d send for her as soon as he could. Well, that had never happened and now all he had left were bad memories of bad times, and a little boy who served to remind him of how he’d broken his promise to Janice. It wasn’t a very good legacy, but he’d been able to put some of it aside in the army. Or, at least, justify it to himself. Too young. Too inexperienced in the world. Yeah, whatever.
And his promise to himself about never coming back to Forgeburn for any reason—fat lot of good that had done him because here he was. Maybe he deserved to be here, if only to remind him of what he could have become. Or what Janice could have become if he’d kept his promise. “Care for a margarita?” he asked Ellie, who sat down at a patio table across from him.
“I don’t drink,” she said. “Water’s good, though.”
“I seem to recall a couple of mojitos in Reno. But if you don’t drink now...” He shrugged. “Water, vegetarian—that sounds like a mighty healthy lifestyle.”
“We all make our choices, I suppose. My mom’s diabetic and my dad, well, I never knew him because he was a number in a sperm catalogue. Someone with the right qualities to produce a good baby.”
“That’s what your mother told you?”
“We Landers women are very—forthcoming.”
“And it doesn’t bother you, knowing you were...”
“You can say it. I was the product of my mother’s egg and her donor of choice. Now, about that water...”
He was stunned by how casually she took her parentage. It was simply a matter of fact, move on. He didn’t know whether to admire it or pity it. “Well, I did find a few healthy things in the fridge and put a couple of salads together. Lots of pico de gallo, avocado, cilantro, corn, tomatoes—that sort of thing. I didn’t add the jalapeños because I wasn’t sure you could do spicy.”
“I do spicy just fine, as long as it’s not too spicy.”
Matt stood. “Well, let me go get dinner, then.”
“Lucas is in bed?” she asked.
“Asleep before his head hit the pillow.” He took a few steps toward the veranda door then stopped but didn’t turn to face her. “Is it mine?” he asked, quite simply.
“Is what yours?”
“The baby. I’m assuming it’s mine, or otherwise you wouldn’t be here.” Matt blew out a long, anxious breath. “You did come to tell me I’m going to be a father, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
He nodded, his composure perfectly intact, then went into the house, leaving Ellie sitting alone outside. Once he got in, however, his passive demeanor gave way and his knees nearly buckled under him. In fact, it was all he could do to make it from the dining area just inside the door to the kitchen, which wasn’t more than about twenty steps. And with every step
