Read EXPECTING HIS CHILD Online
Authors: Leanne Banks
Noah had always doubted that romantic love was in the cards for him. His mentor, Zachary, had always stressed how important it was for a man to find his purpose and perform it. Noah had quickly learned his purpose was to bring innovations to the Coltrane ranch to increase revenue and secure his and his brothers' future. In the back of his mind, he'd vaguely believed he was securing the future of the next generation of
Coltranes
. That belief was no longer vague. It held a distinct picture in his mind of Martina and his child.
His purpose, also, was to bring honor and integrity to the Coltrane name. God knows, after his father's reputation, the
Coltranes
needed every drop of honor they could produce. He felt a sliver of discomfort. In that respect, Martina was correct. He had a passion for her, but the bottom line was that this was a matter of honor. She would eventually adjust to that fact, he was certain.
Turning in to the long drive to the house, Noah relished his progress. Soon, Martina would be where she belonged. With him. He tried looking at the ranch through her eyes. Since she had grown up on a ranch, many of the sights, sounds and smells would be familiar. The flat
He pulled his truck to a stop and glanced at the large two-story wood-frame house that stood like a stubborn weed on dry rocky ground. Although the Coltrane home showed little in the way of feminine influence, it was freshly painted and renovated, and boasted most modern conveniences.
Mounting the steps, he thought Martina would approve of the rebuilt porch and refinished oak floors. He walked through the downstairs, taking inventory. She might want to add some rugs or pictures, he thought, looking at the clean bare walls, but she would like the modern appliances in the kitchen. She might want to add some lamps. Sometimes the rooms seemed dark. He would clear out a room for her to do her Web page design. With a few minor changes, he decided she would adjust. She would like it, he thought, following the sound of his brothers in the TV room. No problem—
Noah stopped short at the sight that greeted him. Adam and Gideon lay sprawled on the sofa and recliner in their boxers. With a book propped in his lap, Adam chugged a beer and Gideon sucked on a cigar, his newsmagazine abandoned on the floor beside him.
Wearing headphones, Jonathan sat on the floor watching television while he hummed off-key.
"Be quiet," Gideon said.
"He can't hear you," Adam said, and turned up the volume on the wrestling show.
No-woman's-land.
Gideon glanced up. "
Yo
, brother, how goes the taming of the shrew?"
Noah sighed and raked his hand through his hair. "Progressing," he said, and sat down on the sofa. He stared unseeingly at the television screen, his mind busy.
"No bite or claw marks?" Gideon asked with a smart-aleck grin.
Noah shook his head.
"What are you doing to cut down on the battle scars?"
"I feed her," Noah said, his lips twitching as he imagined Martina's enjoyment of the cheesecake he'd left her.
Still wearing headphones, Jonathan glanced up at him and nodded, yelling, "Hi."
Noah pulled back one of the earphones. "I gave her the Mozart CD for the baby."
"What'd she think?" Jonathan asked.
"I don't know, but she didn't look like she wanted to slap me. That's an improvement."
"Any chance there'll be a wedding soon?"
Noah felt a burning determination. "Damn straight." He looked at his oldest brother, who he'd noticed hadn't said anything. "Talk," Noah said to him. "Front porch."
Adam glanced at him and slowly rose from his easy chair. "Okay." Setting Homer's
Odyssey
aside, Adam joined Noah on the front porch. In his boxers, he was an incongruous picture of a "good ol' boy" traditional cattleman with a closet appreciation for literary classics.
"What do you want now?" he asked, as he had asked Noah dozens of times before. Although Adam gave the impression of being reluctant to change, he offered a steadiness that had provided a balance to him and his brothers.
"When I walked into the house tonight, it occurred to me that a woman considering moving into our home might find the prospect difficult."
Adam propped his beer on the porch rail and glanced down at his skimpy attire. His mouth quirked in an ironic grin. "I don't know why."
"Oh, something about the combination of the
World of Wrestling
full blast on the TV, men sitting in their underwear drinking beer, smoking cigars and yelling at each other."
Adam shook his head. "You're gonna have a hard time changing our habits."
"I'm not planning on it."
Adam took another drink of beer. "Then what?"
"You know that building we've been putting together for offices?"
"Yeah."
"I was thinking about using some of my own money and making it into a house, instead."
Adam let out a long breath. "Has she agreed to marry you?"
"No, but—"
"Don't you think you're gambling against the house? You keep forgetting her family hates us."
"I haven't forgotten it," Noah said. The reality of the grudge burned like a hot poker in his gut every waking minute. "But Martina is going to marry me."
"She and her brothers just don't know it yet, right?"
Noah appealed to his brother's sense of the bottom line. "I'll take it out of my own pocket," he said. "I've done pretty well with some of my day trading."
Adam scratched his head and shot him a glance mingled with doubt and respect. "Good luck. You're gonna need it."
Chapter 7
A
ringing sound jerked Martina from her sleep. Disoriented, she sat up in bed. The ringing continued and she shook her head, trying to clear it. When she realized the sound was coming from the phone, a dozen thoughts flew through her mind.
If this was Noah, she was going to give that man a piece of her mind. He hadn't just been late this time. He hadn't shown up at all. She'd paced the house the entire evening watching the clock and then had a difficult time going to sleep.
What if it was someone else, though? Brock?
Tyler
?
She reached across the bed and snatched the phone from the cradle. "Hello?"
"Martina Logan?" a male voice said.
"Yes."
"Sorry to call so late. This is Jonathan Coltrane. Noah won't be able to make it tonight."
Martina glanced at the fluorescent-blue numbers on her alarm clock. "Since it's after
"Yeah, well, he was in an accident on his way to see you. The doctor says he's gonna be okay, but—"
Martina's heart sank to her knees. "Doctor?"
"Yeah, the ambulance took him to the hospital. His truck is totaled. He's gonna be real pissed off."
Martina swallowed over her racing panic. "How is he?"
"
Broken ribs, punctured lung, concussion and one of his legs is
bruised pretty bad. He'll be sore and cranky the next few days."
Wide awake now, she clenched her hands to keep them from trembling. "Which hospital is he in?"
"
"Thank you for telling me," Martina said, her mind whirling.
"You're welcome," Jonathan said. "
G'night
."
He hung up and Martina listened to the dial tone for a full minute before she returned the phone to the cradle. What if Noah had been hurt worse? A chill ran through her. What if he had died? For a moment, the darkness felt as if it had closed in around her, suffocating her.
Throwing back the covers, she rose from the bed and flipped on one light, then another and another. She walked to the hall and turned on that light, followed the steps downstairs and turned on nearly every light until the house was bright enough for Christmas.
"It's not as if I'll be going back to sleep anytime soon," she murmured to herself, and tried to deal with the terrible fear and pain she felt at the thought of Noah being hurt or dying.
Pacing into the kitchen, she poured herself some orange juice and gulped it. Lately, it seemed as if she was always thirsty. She kept picturing Noah in his truck and the crashing, grinding sound of metal. In her mind, she saw him against white sheets in the hospital. Another more insidious image flashed of Noah dead.
Her heart raced double time and panic coursed through her. She didn't want her baby growing up without Noah. For all her uncertainties about him, she believed he would be a wonderful father, a far different father than the one she had experienced. Noah would not ignore his child. Although Martina tried not to focus on it, when her mother died she might as well have been orphaned. If not for her brothers, she wouldn't have experienced any love as a child.
The thought tore at her, tugging fiercely at her sense of loyalty, as it always did. Martina closed her eyes and shook her head. She couldn't deal with that right now. Right now, she had the edgy, overpowering need to see that Noah was all right.
Noah awoke to the sound of loud voices outside his hospital room and winced at the pain in his chest. At the moment, it hurt to breathe. The only thing he wanted was blessed sleep. If that nurse poked him and asked his name one more time, he was going to tell her he was an alien. Or the president. Or, he thought with a pained grin, a woman. Maybe that one from the Zorro movie. Martina looked a lot like her.
"If you're not related to Mr. Coltrane, I can't allow you in," the nurse said firmly.
Noah opened his eyes at the mention of his name. His gaze encountered Jonathan and Gideon.
"What?" Gideon rose and cracked the door.
"This is ridiculous. All I want to do is see Noah. I have no interest in even talking to him." Martina's voice carried into Noah's room.
Gideon turned an accusing gaze on Jonathan. "There is one very pregnant, very upset woman out there. Why in hell did you call her? Adam said we shouldn't."
Jonathan shrugged. "Adam left."
"He's gonna fry your butt."
"Not if he doesn't find out," Jonathan returned. "Not unless the baby of the family snitches on me."
Gideon scowled. "You son of a—"
"Would you two shut up so I can hear Martina?" Noah demanded. "I want to hear this."
"What is so—" Gideon began.
"
Shut up
," Jonathan and Noah said in unison.
"You haven't given me an acceptable reason to allow you into Mr. Coltrane's room. This patient has experienced head trauma and shouldn't be disturbed."
"This is not the first tine Mr. Coltrane has acted as if he has experienced head trauma, but that's another matter," Martina said. "Mr. Coltrane is…"
"She's not going to be able to say it." Noah shook his head,
then
winced at the pain.
"Say what?" Gideon asked in exasperation.
"You'll hear."
"He contributed genetic material," Martina said.
"Pardon?" the nurse said.
"He supplied necessary chromosomes," Martina continued.
"A sperm donor!" the nurse exclaimed. "You think I should let you in there because he was your sperm donor?"
"He was not my sperm donor," Martina hotly denied. "Noah Coltrane donated his sperm the old-fashioned way. I'm expecting his child, and he has asked me to marry him."
Noah started to chuckle, but it hurt too much.
"Oh, you're his fiancée," the nurse said. "Why didn't you say so? You can go in."
"Thank you," Martina said in a cool voice, then muttered, pushing open Noah's door, "I did not say I was his fiancée."
"I'm asleep," Noah whispered to his brothers and closed his eyes.
At her entrance, Noah heard both his
brothers
rise to their feet. Not surprised she had that effect on him, he thought. She'd probably made more than one man think about kneeling.
He smelled her sweet scent and felt her gaze as she paused for a long moment at his bedside. He was struck by an overpowering urge to see her, and it took surprising willpower to keep his eyes closed.
"Is he really okay?" she whispered.
"Yeah," Jonathan said. "He's just—"
"—sleeping," Gideon finished.
"Which of you is Jonathan?" she
asked,
her voice like honey over his pain.
"I am," Jonathan said. "You didn't have to come."
"Yes, I did. I, uh…" She cleared her throat. "I needed to see for myself that he was okay."
Her simple statement soothed his jangled nerve endings and abused body. Her presence both stimulated and relaxed him, and he felt himself drifting again. Martina was here and she cared. Everything wasn't all right, but it was a damn sight better than it had been.
The next time Noah awakened, it was to an empty room, and he wondered if he had dreamed her into his room, wished her there in his state of concussion.
His door whooshed open and Martina appeared with a cup of coffee in her hand. Her gaze met his. "You're awake," she said.
"Yeah."
"How are you feeling?"
"Okay," he automatically responded, busy drinking in the sight of her.
"Okay," she echoed in disbelief.
"Well, as long as I don't breathe or
move, I feel okay
."
She smiled at his light response,
then
her expression shifted. If he didn't know better, he would say she looked worried.
"I'm sorry about the accident," she said.
"Yeah, the truck's a goner."
"I wasn't talking about the truck," she said. "I was talking about you."
A tiny drop of hope trickled through his blood. "You didn't want me to croak?" he asked.
"No. I didn't."
"You might miss me," he said.
"The baby would miss having a pretty wonderful father."
Life wasn't worth living if a man didn't push his luck every now and then, Noah thought, so he pushed. "Then maybe you should marry me like you told the nurse you would."
Martina stopped and stared at him for a full moment. "You heard that?"
"Most of it," he said.
"But you were asleep," she said, distress creeping into her voice.
"Well, after you whispered with my brothers, I fell asleep, but—"
Her eyes lit with anger. "You eavesdropped and pretended you were asleep. What a slimy—"
"Just a minute, Princess Logan." Noah held up his hand and winced at the pain. "You were practically having a catfight with the nurse right outside my room. That's not eavesdropping."
"But you pretended—"
"Not for long. With the way I've felt since my truck rolled, I'd rather sleep through the next few days than win the lottery."
Her skin paled. "It rolled? Your truck rolled?"
Reluctant to alarm her, he bit back an oath. "It was just a little roll."
Martina sank onto the corner of his bed. "There's no such thing as a little roll. Your brothers hedged on the severity of the accident."
"They were just following instincts. Good instincts," he said. "No need to unnecessarily alarm a pregnant woman."
"I don't need to be protected."
"Yeah, you do," Noah said. "It's okay. This is one of the times in your life you need to be protected. You can't run as fast as usual. You can't lift as much as usual, although I suspect you try," he added with a frown. "You need to be protected, and it's okay. It won't always be that way. It doesn't mean you're not as strong. It just means your body is busy doing something else at the moment. It's busy getting our baby ready for the big entrance."
She looked at him and he could see
she
half-agreed and half-disagreed. Her eyes rounded slightly and she put her hand on her belly. "Sometimes I wonder if he already knows."
"Knows what?" Noah prompted.
Reluctance shimmered in her vibrant blue eyes. She hesitated. "Sometimes I wonder if the baby already knows your voice."
Noah's gut tightened. "Is the baby moving right now?"
Martina nodded, paused a few seconds,
then
moved closer to him. She put his hand on her abdomen, and Noah immediately felt a jab and a kick. He met Martina's gaze and saw the wonder in her eyes, the same wonder that burst inside him. The moment was a magical sliver of time. "Amazing," he said, lacing his fingers through hers over her abdomen.
He watched Martina look at their intertwined hands. She bit her lip and eased backward.
Her retreat annoyed him. His patience had been stretched to the limit. He wanted her to admit that she belonged with him. He wanted her to agree to marry him so they could raise the baby together. He wanted to throw her doubt, uncertainty and torn loyalties into a bottomless pit, and then throw her over his shoulder and take her home.
He felt a dull throb in his chest, leg and head, and reluctantly admitted he probably wasn't in the best shape for hauling anybody over his shoulder. He deliberately tamped down his impatience. "Where are my brothers?"
"They went home," she said. "They said—"
The door swung open and the doctor appeared. He flipped through the chart. "I see you made it through the night without too much trouble," he said. "Although the nurse said you objected to the frequent checks."
"She objected to the idea of me throwing a bedpan at her if she woke me once more before
The doctor put his stethoscope to Noah's chest. "Breathe normally," he said, then put the stethoscope to his back. "Again."
"Rest for the next few days. You can sit up, but no physical exertion until your lung and ribs begin to heal. I suspect you won't feel like doing much, anyway. Plenty of fluids." He nodded in Martina's direction. "He's all yours, Mrs. Coltrane."
Martina's eyes rounded. She opened her mouth.
"Thank you very much," Noah said before she could voice her denial.
The doctor left the room and Noah reached for the telephone. "I need to call one of my brothers to pick me up."