Rusty wanted to crawl under the table. She heard the cupboard door close, the sound of water running and the microwave door open and close. Luke set the controls and soon the sound of the microwave’s hum filled the silence in the room.
She had to be some kind of demented person to actually be considering suggesting the woman have a baby with Luke Galloway. How could she say such a thing to a woman she’d only met? A woman whose lover had kissed Rusty last night.
But there was no other way, was there? And it wasn’t as if Rusty were really involved with Galloway. She barely knew the man. Could barely tolerate him. She certainly would never consider having a baby with him. Even if it would please Sam.
So, why not let Luke and Becky give Sam a grandchild?
She blew out a strangled breath. It was now or never, she thought, glancing at Becky’s left hand. No wedding ring. They were lovers, for sure. “So, Becky, do you like children?” Rusty avoided Luke’s gaze, which she knew was trained on her.
She laughed. “Well, it’s a little late if I don’t. Fifteen years to be exact.”
Rusty stared at her, feeling confused. “I beg your pardon?”
“My son, Jeremy. He’s fifteen.”
“Oh. He’s the one visiting the expectant mare, Stardust?” she asked, hoping she had the mare’s name right.
“Jeremy’s interested in horses,” Luke intervened. “He’s been helping Hank Garvey—that’s our foreman—out on Saturdays and after school.”
“Oh,” she said. “Jeremy’s an only child?”
Becky nodded.
“He must be lonely. Have you thought about having another child? I mean, women your age can have them nowadays without too many chances of complications, but I wouldn’t wait too much longer.”
Luke cleared his throat. “Rusty.” That warning voice again.
“Luke was just telling me how much he liked children,” she rattled on, ignoring him completely.
Becky looked at Luke, questioningly.
“So, how long have you two been …” She almost said lovers, then quickly amended her question. “How long have you and Luke been friends?”
Becky shrugged. “Several years now.”
This time Rusty looked at Luke. She raised her brow as if to ask what the hell he was waiting for? The poor woman wasn’t getting any younger.
“You know, Rusty,” he said, “I think you should go check on Sam.”
“I will in a minute. Right now, I’m talking to Becky.”
He muttered something under his breath. Something she couldn’t make out. It sounded threatening, but that didn’t scare her. He didn’t scare her. “As I was saying, Luke and I were talking about how nice it would be if Sam had a grandchild to run around the farm, maybe learn to ride a horse,” she said.
He came up behind Rusty, settled his big beefy hands on her shoulders. She tensed up and tried to shrug his hands away. The man had no respect. He’d been involved with Becky for years, and yet last night he’d kissed her. And now, he didn’t give a damn about hurting Becky’s feelings.
Behind her, she heard Luke say to Becky, “Rusty’s considering looking for a stud to father a child.”
“I am not!” she said, slapping at one of his hands.
Becky looked away, amused. After sipping from her mug, she asked, “So, speaking of Sam, how is he today? Has he been using his crutches?”
Becky’s question had been directed Rusty’s way, but when she tried to answer, Luke cut her off. “He’s fine. And yes, he’s been using the crutches some. At least back and forth to the bathroom. He’ll be up, barking orders in no time.”
Rusty looked over her shoulder. “Sam isn’t fine. He’s dying, for God’s sake. Why can’t you get that through your thick skull?”
Becky set her mug down hard on the table. Coffee splashed over the sides and onto the oak table. “Dying?” she whispered, her eyes growing misty. Scraping her chair back on the hardwood floor, she stood up. “Luke?” When he didn’t confirm or deny, Becky said, “I’d like to see him, please.”
Luke rushed to her side. “Becky, wait. It’s not what you think.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
Luke scowled at Rusty as he threw his arm around Becky and walked her out of the kitchen and down the hallway toward Sam’s room.
Rusty jumped to her feet. What the hell was wrong with that man? And why was he dragging his lover in to see Sam?
“I’m sorry,” Rusty said to their retreating backs. “But Sam needs rest and quiet. I’m going to have to ask you to leave, Becky.”
“Rusty,” Luke said, another warning in his voice, as he turned around to look at her.
She hadn’t the slightest idea what that warning meant. “I mean it, Luke.” It was the first time she’d called him by his given name. “You can’t parade your lover in front of my father. He’s sick. Have some respect.”
“Rusty!” he warned again.
“Lover?” Becky asked. “What is she talking about, Luke?”
Luke shook his head. “I haven’t the foggiest idea.”
“You don’t fool me,” Rusty said. “I happen to be able to recognize when two people are sleeping together. Now step away from that door. Both of you.”
Becky’s mouth flew open, as did Luke’s. But before either of them could respond to her commands, the bedroom door opened abruptly. There stood Sam, dressed in plaid flannel pajamas, half leaning on his crutches, and half leaning against the wall for support. “What the hell is going on out here?”
“I’m sorry, Sam,” Rusty began, only to be cut off by Becky.
“Why didn’t you tell me the truth, Sam Paris?” she asked, tears in her eyes. “You told me about the heel spurs, but never mentioned there was anything more serious than that. To think I wasted all this time, waiting for you to notice I was in love with you, and the whole time you were planning to die on me.”
Sam looked around, as if to plan his escape. His face darkened to a bright red. “I didn’t exactly plan to die, Rebecca. And I didn’t know you were in love with me. Hell, you never said anything.”
Becky looked outraged while tears spilled down her cheeks. “How much plainer could I have been, you stupid fool?” She shoved at Sam’s chest, nearly knocking him off balance. Sam took a step back, using the crutches to balance.
Rusty looked at Sam’s bandage covered feet. Heel spurs? Had something gone wrong with the operation? Had he somehow caught an infection? Is that what he was dying from? Or was that how they’d found that he’d had something more serious than heel spurs?
“Sam, I’m so sorry for all this commotion,” Rusty said. But before she could say anything more, she felt herself being lifted off her feet. Luke Galloway, who else?
“Let’s let them have a few moments alone, shall we?” he suggested quietly, and pulled Sam’s door shut.
Rusty closed her eyes, so she wouldn’t have to look at him as he carried her back to the kitchen and set her in a chair.
“I’ll get that tea.” He ripped open a box of tea bags, grabbed the cup of hot water from the microwave and set it in front of her.
Rusty twirled a spoon in the hot liquid while the bag steeped. She was thoroughly confused now, but there was one thing she was certain of. “You and Becky aren’t lovers, are you?” She didn’t look up as Luke joined her at the table.
“Nope.”
Oh, God, she’d made such a fool of herself. Becky was in love with Sam, not Luke. Did Sam love Becky, too? she wondered.
“But your jealousy was flattering, just the same,” he said a moment later.
“I wasn’t jealous.”
He snorted. “Honey, your face turned green.”
She glanced up to see his grinning face. There was no point in arguing with him. He’d never believe her anyway. Wrapping the string of the tea bag around the spoon, she wrung out the bag and set it aside. Bringing the steaming cup to her mouth, she took a tiny sip. “Did you know she was in love with Sam?”
“No. I didn’t have a clue. I mean, she and Jeremy spend a lot of time here on the farm and all, but …” His voice trailed off. “Becky’s a veterinarian, and she gives our stock plenty of attention.”
She nodded. “And Jeremy’s father?”
“Died. Two years ago. A heart attack.”
“That poor woman. First her husband …” she said between sobs, “and now Sam.” Lowering her head to the table, she cried.
“Damnit, Rusty. I can’t take much more of this crying.”
“Then, go away.”
She heard Jack’s toenails click on the wood floor again as he moved toward her. He nuzzled his head onto her lap and made himself comfortable beside her. She couldn’t say why, but she patted the top of his head. Maybe just to thank him for his concern.
“C’mon, honey, drink your tea,” Luke said softly. “And then I’ll char you a burger for lunch.”
She sniffed, and looked up at him out of one eye. “I don’t eat red meat.”
“Okay, okay. How about a peanut butter sandwich on sour dough bread?”
She shook her head. She didn’t eat white bread. And peanut butter was loaded with fat. “I planned to make Sam some brown rice with arugula and a little wheat germ. Maybe if I cook, I can get my mind off—”
“That sounds great. Brown rice, lots of green leafy stuff. And wheat germ. Yummy. Sam will love it.”
She didn’t think he sounded sincere, but she got to her feet to start the meal anyway. Moments later, Becky stormed through the kitchen and pushed her arms through the sleeves of her coat. “Men!” she screamed at the ceiling. “You can’t live with ‘em, and you can’t shoot ‘em!” With that, she left by the back door, not bothering to say good-bye to either Rusty or Luke.
Rusty looked at Luke. “I should go check on Sam.
Luke stopped her. “No, you finish cooking,” he said. “And I’ll check on Sam. I’ve got a few things I want to say to him.”
“Wait, Luke,” she said, using his name for the second time. “I’ve decided that maybe I’ve been selfish. I’ve been trying to get you to assume the responsibility of having a grandchild for Sam. But, I’m his daughter, and it’s time I stopped thinking about my insecurities. Sam wants a grandchild, and since he doesn’t have much time left, I’m going to see that he gets his wish.”
“Look, before you go out and jump into bed with someone, let me talk to Sam. I’ll see if I can change his mind, reason with him.”
She shook her head. “No, my mind’s made up. I’m going to have a baby. Just as soon as I find a suitable father for my child.”
“WHAT THE HELL WERE you trying to prove!” Luke spat, at the same time trying to keep his voice down. He didn’t want Rusty to overhear their conversation.
Although, maybe if she overheard, Sam’s little game would be discovered and all this nonsense would be over. “Right now, your daughter’s in the kitchen trying to think about who she’s going to jump into bed with so she can supply you with a grandchild before you croak! And a few minutes ago, she wanted me to jump Becky’s bones.”
Sam scowled, then his face lit up. “Rusty’s going to give me a grandchild?”
“Doesn’t it concern you that she might consider putting an ad in the paper to find someone to father her baby?”
Shaking his head, Sam said, “Rusty’s a smart woman. She wouldn’t do such a thing. But to think she wants to please me … I can’t tell you how that makes me feel. At least she wants to see me happy. That means she cares about me.”
Luke sunk into a chair at the end of the bed. “Listen, Sam, I’ve had enough of your manipulations and guilt trips. I’m not going to be a part of this. So forget it.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t expect you to. I know you don’t give a damn about my feelings.”
“That’s not true, and you know it. I’d do anything for you.”
“Except for the one thing I want more than anything else.”
“Damnit, Sam!” Luke jumped to his feet and clenched his fists. “I lied to your daughter for you. I brought her back with me, didn’t I?”
Sam had the good sense to lower his eyes in shame. Then he looked up at Luke. “Yes, you did. But now I want her to stay. I love her and I don’t want to lose her again.”
“Then just tell her that.”
He shook his head. “I can’t take that chance. What if she never forgives me for lying to her? For tricking her? If she had a husband and a child, a reason to stay at the farm …”
Luke sat down again, slowly this time. “You mean me, don’t you?”
“I love you like a son, Luke. I can’t think of anything that would make me more proud than to have you marry my daughter and father her child.”
“I know I’m supposed to consider that some kind of honor, but to tell you the truth, I resent it.”
“Why? You’re thirty-four years old, and haven’t had a serious relationship in years.”
Not since Christine, was what he’d meant. Hell, that was almost ten years ago. But Sam was right. Since then Luke had been avoiding getting serious with anyone.
“You’re not getting any younger, boy. It’s time to think about your future.”
“It’s my future, Sam. I’ll decide when and if I get married, and when and if I have children.” He glared at the man.
“Yeah? Then, you’re going to end up alone. Like me. After Natalie left me, I was bitter. I chased away every woman that looked at me sideways.” Luke tried to intervene, but Sam held up a hand, silencing him. “And when Natalie took Rusty away, I made horse breeding my life. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have dried up and died a long time ago.”
“Sam—”
“Let me finish, boy. I love you. I want you to be happy. And I love Rusty. I don’t want to see her end up like her mother. Going from one man’s arms to the next, searching for something she’s never going to find. Money isn’t everything. Although, thanks to you, I have plenty of it now. You saved the business, made it profitable too. But, sometimes that’s not enough. A man needs a good woman to love him, have his children.”
He waited until Sam was done speaking. “That’s just it, Sam. Rusty doesn’t love me. And I don’t love her. If you really love both of us the way you say you do, then you should want us to be happy.”
“Phooey,” he said, tossing his hand to the side. “Love doesn’t have anything to do with it. Not in the beginning, anyway. Years ago, marriages were arranged by the couple’s families. And those marriages lasted. People didn’t divorce at the drop of a hat. They made a commitment to one another, and they stuck together, no matter what. They grew to love and respect each other. That’s true love.”