The Bride Said, 'Surprise!'

How could he, Luke wondered, when Jeremy was suffering so, and Meg was clearly in the wrong?

Meg leaned forward earnestly. “Please, Luke.” She took both his hands in hers. “Help me make Jeremy see it is okay for me to be both mother and father to him. Obviously, he’ll listen to you in a way he won’t listen to me.”

Maybe because I listen to everything your little boy has to say, Luke thought, not just what I want to hear him say. Luxuriating in the feel of her soft, slender hands warmly gripping the backs of his, Luke said, “Have you asked Kip to be a father to him?”

“Luke, I’ve told you.” Meg dropped her grip on him and sat back abruptly once again. “Jeremy isn’t Kip’s responsibility. He’s mine.” She pushed away from the table and began to pace. “You need to get that through your head, and so does Jeremy.”

“Meaning what?” Luke watched the sway of her hips beneath the loose-fitting pajama bottoms. “You haven’t told him? Or you told him and his reaction wasn’t favorable.”

Meg shoved both hands through the tousled strands of her damp auburn hair. “Meaning I was a wreck after Kip and I broke up and my parents died.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Meg?” Luke asked gruffly, aware she was hurting him whether she meant to or not by shutting him out, pushing him away.

Meg’s fair skin turned red, white, then red again. She had trouble meeting his eyes. “I’m trying to tell you that sleeping with you wasn’t the only foolish thing I did. There were other things I regret doing, too, both before and after you and I—” Meg stopped, unable to continue, and looked away. She took a deep breath, then turned back to him. Her hands knotted in front of her, she continued emotionally, “The truth is I made a series of mistakes. I’d give anything if I could go back and do it all over…do it differently. But I can’t.” She released a ragged sigh, pushed on. “And because I can’t change things, including the less-than-desirable circumstances under which Jeremy was conceived, I think it’s best that I leave those mistakes in the past, where they belong. And not hurt Jeremy or anyone else with the disclosure of the facts.”

Luke knew what she was trying to say, that there had been a third or even a fourth person in her life and in her bed. But he didn’t believe it. Meg had been so innocent and untutored the night they’d been together. And later, so upset at the passionate, uninhibited way she had behaved. He couldn’t believe she’d jumped into bed with anyone else either before or after they’d made love, no matter how upset she’d been over her parents’ deaths and her breakup with Kip. That was the kind of unplanned, unthinking thing that happened to a highly self-sufficient woman like Meg only once. On the other hand, he never would have believed she would summarily end their friendship, either, just because they’d foolishly and recklessly made love in a moment of crisis. “Then who is Jeremy’s father if it’s not me and it’s not Kip?” Luke asked bluntly, wanting her to look him in the eyes and tell him everything. Here. Now.

Meg’s jaw clenched as she spun away and haughtily resumed her pacing. “As I said, Luke, I am not discussing this with you or anyone else. What happened back then is over and done with,” Meg continued firmly, “and it’s no one else’s business but mine.”

Clearly, Meg had been hurt by whatever happened. It was obvious she felt very abandoned by whomever Jeremy’s father was, though how anyone could turn away from a cute kid like Jeremy, he didn’t know. Unless, Luke thought, Meg hadn’t been exactly forthright about the depth of her dilemma back then, and Kip or whoever Jeremy’s father was really didn’t know he was a father. If it was Kip it would have been just like Meg, Luke realized, to go to Kip and see if they could get back together and, failing that, just not tell him about the baby. Meg was so independent, self-sufficient, and responsible. Always had been. The last thing she ever would have wanted was for someone to marry her only because of the baby she was carrying. The last thing she would have wanted was a loveless marriage borne out of responsibility and nothing more.

Luke forced himself to concentrate on the dilemma at hand—how to satisfy her son’s growing curiosity about his male parentage. “But you will tell Jeremy about his father?” Clearly, Jeremy needed to be told something.

Meg nodded, reluctantly giving in just a little. “I’ll tell him the basic facts, that his father was someone I knew a long time ago. For a lot of very complicated, grown-up reasons he’s too young to understand, his father and I couldn’t get married to each other. So I decided to be both mommy and daddy to Jeremy and raise him on my own.”

Luke frowned. “I’ve talked to Jeremy, Meg. I don’t think that’s going to be enough to satisfy him.” Or me.

“It’s going to have to be,” Meg retorted, looked every bit as stubborn and determined as her son to have her way on this.

“And if it’s not?” Watching Meg finish the rest of her ice water, Luke pushed back his chair and stood, too.

“It will be,” Meg promised firmly. She looked him straight in the eye, and Luke felt the impact of their chemistry dragging him closer, like a rope around his middle, even as her defiant secrecy pushed him away. “Just as soon as Jeremy realizes I am not budging on this, either.” Brushing past him, she headed for the living room.

“Meanwhile, I want Jeremy in his own bed tonight.”

As she started for her son, Luke put a hand on her arm. “Let me do this,” he said quietly.

Meg shrugged off his concern and refused his help in a coolly determined way she never would have done six years ago, when they’d been the best of friends. “No, I’m used to carrying him. You stay with your girls.” Holding her sleeping five-year-old son in her arms so his head was on her shoulder and his legs were wrapped around her waist, Meg slipped out the door and headed across the lawn.

Luke watched her enter her house.

He knew Meg thought he had given up trying to help.

She was wrong.

Jeremy might not be his son; he still needed a man to look out for him. Whether Meg liked it or not—for the moment, anyway, until Jeremy’s real father could be found and held accountable to both Meg and Jeremy—Luke was that man.

“THANKS FOR LETTING THE GIRLS play over here today,” Luke told Patricia Weatherby the next day. Mother of five-year-old Molly Weatherby, Patricia was also a new resident to Laramie. Luke had met her at the chamber of commerce, where she now worked. Learning they had daughters the same age, Patricia had offered to have his three girls over for a play date as soon as it was convenient.

“Where are you going?” Patricia asked as Molly showed Luke’s three girls where she kept all her toys.

Luke handed over his cell phone and pager numbers. “I’ve got some business in Austin to take care of. I hope to be back around four this afternoon at the very latest.” He hadn’t done enough for Meg when her parents died. Instead of helping her through her grief, he’d foolishly and recklessly made love to her, thereby adding to her distress. Had he known then that she was already pregnant with what was probably—despite her denials—her ex-boyfriend’s child, he could have persuaded Kip Brewster to do right by Meg and their son. But he hadn’t known then.

He did now.

And, having made half a dozen phone calls and found out where Kip was, it was time to act. Hopefully, Jeremy was Kip’s son. If not, Luke decided, he would keep looking until he found the help Meg and her son needed.

THE DRIVE TO AUSTIN went swiftly. Two hours later Luke was being ushered into Kip Brewster’s office at the prestigious law firm where he worked. As they shook hands, Luke noted Kip had changed very little since they’d gone to school in Chicago. He was still physically fit, handsome in that aristocratic, male model way, and very well mannered. “Thanks for taking the time to see me on such short notice,” Luke said.

“No problem.” Kip offered Luke a chair, then circled around to sit behind his desk. “You said there was some sort of personal emergency…?”

“It concerns Meg Lockhart.”

Kip’s eyes lit up with interest, his reaction confirming, for Luke, the fact that Kip was not over Meg. Any more than he himself had ever gotten over Meg and the abrupt way their friendship had ended. “How is she?” Kip asked.

“Thriving, professionally.” Luke was pleased to report.

“And personally?” Kip’s interest sharpened as he waited for Luke’s reply.

“Never married.”

“Wish I could say the same,” Kip said with a rueful shrug. “I’m divorced.”

Luke nodded. He knew what it was like to have things work out in ways you never expected. “I’m widowed.”

“Sorry.”

Luke nodded. “Same to you.”

Silence. Knowing there was no easy way to broach this, Luke forged on. “Meg has a son.”

Kip did a double take, looking just as shocked as Luke had been initially. “Meg—a single mother?” Kip asked in a low, stunned voice.

Luke nodded. He waited, but to his frustration, Kip did not leap to the conclusion Luke would have expected him to make. Which meant he was going to have to spell it out for him. “Jeremy is five now,” Luke said patiently. “His birthday is December first. He’ll be six.”

Kip’s brow furrowed. “Did Meg adopt this son of hers?” he asked finally.

“No.” Luke exhaled slowly. “Jeremy is her biological child.”

Another pause. “I don’t suppose she was artificially inseminated,” Kip guessed reluctantly after a moment.

Luke shook his head. Again, silence fell between the two men. Wondering what it was going to take for Kip to own up to his responsibility, Luke pushed on with difficulty. “The thing is, Jeremy’s a terrific kid. And he wants to know who his father is.”

Kip continued to look baffled. “You want my law firm to find this guy?”

“I want you to take responsibility for him.”

“Whoa.” Kip lifted both hands and held them in front of him like a shield. “No can do.”