The M.D. She Had To Marry

Logan glanced down at the table between them. He might have been looking at the bags of groceries, or the empty soda can—or simply not looking at her. “Well,” he said, “Jenna always did want lots of kids.”

“Yes. She did.”

Logan raised that dark gaze once more. “So you came here.”

Lacey nodded. “It’s peaceful and it’s beautiful. And I have family around, ready to help if I need it. It was the perfect place to come and have my baby.”

He let a moment of charged silence elapse before announcing, “You should have come to me.”

Well, she thought. We’re into it now, aren’t we? She knew where he was headed, of course. She’d known from the moment she saw him on the front step. And even before that. She’d known what Logan Severance would do from the first day she admitted to herself that she was pregnant—because she knew him.

And she had her refusal, complete with excellent reasons for it, all ready to give to him.

But the thought of hashing through it all made her feel about as tired as he looked. And her back was aching.

If he wanted to stand up for this, fine. He could stand. She’d rather take it sitting down.

Lacey pulled out a chair and lowered herself into it.

Logan waited to speak again until she was settled—and until it became clear that she wasn’t going to respond to his last remark. “The baby’s due in a week or so, right?”

“Yes.” Her shoulders kept wanting to droop. She pulled them back and met his eyes. “Everything’s fine. Normal. I got an appointment with the doctor here as soon as I arrived. He’s been taking good care of me.”

Logan looked irritatingly skeptical. “You’ve been watching your diet, taking it easy?”

Oh, why did he so often manage to make her feel like some incompetent, irresponsible child? Apparently, old behavior patterns did die hard. In spite of the dramatic shift in their relationship last fall, right that moment the years seemed to peel away. She was the bratty kid with a chip on her shoulder and he was the annoyingly straight-arrow boyfriend of her big sister.

“Lacey. Answer me. Have you been taking care of yourself?”

“Honestly, everything is fine.”

That gained her a disbelieving glare. “Why didn’t you contact me earlier?”

“I contacted you as soon as I could bear to. And if we’re into ‘why didn’t you,’ then why didn’t you call the number I gave you and let me know that you were on your way here?”

“And have you tell me not to come? I don’t think so.”

Her mouth felt so dry all of a sudden. It was one of the many bothersome things about pregnancy. Cravings came on out of nowhere. She wanted water. She could already taste its silky coldness on her tongue. She started to push herself to her feet again.

Logan frowned. “What is it?”

“Nothing. I just want a drink of water, that’s all.”

“I’ll get it.”

“No, don’t bother. I can—”

But he was already striding to the sink. He took a glass from the corner of the counter, rinsed it, and filled it from the tap. Then he carried it to her and held it out.

She looked at the glass and then up, into his eyes. His kindness and concern did touch her. He was a good man, always had been. Much too good for the likes of her. She felt a smile flirting with the corners of her mouth. “You know, until a few years ago, there was no running water or electricity here in the cabin. It cost a bundle, apparently, to run electrical lines and water pipes out here. But my cousin Zach had it done last summer. Pretty convenient, huh? Otherwise, you’d have had to head for the well out back to fill that glass for me.”

“Just drink.” His voice was gruff.

This time, as he passed her the glass, his fingers did brush hers. His fingers were warm. She wondered if hers felt cold to him.

“Thank you.” She drank. It was just what she’d wanted, clear and cool and satisfying as it slid down her throat.

“More?”

She shook her head, set down the glass.

Logan pulled out the chair nearest hers and dropped into it. He braced his elbows on his knees and leaned toward her. The light caught and gleamed in his dark hair.

His eyes were softer now. “I didn’t call when I got your letter because I knew you would only try to talk me into staying away.”

Her smile started to quiver. She bit the corner of her lip to make it stop. “That’s true. I would have.”

“It wouldn’t have worked.”

“I know. You’ll do what you think is right. You always have.” Except during those five days last September, a voice in her mind whispered tauntingly. Then you did things you didn’t approve of. And you did them with me.

He looked down at the rough boards between his feet, then back up at her. “This baby changes everything, Lace.”

She wanted to touch him. The slight brushing of their fingers a moment before had whetted her appetite for the feel of him. Oh, to simply reach out and run her fingers through that shining dark hair, to trace his brows, to learn again the shape of his mouth.

Tenderness welled in her. He had traveled such a long way and he wasn’t going to get what he came for—what he would say he wanted, what he would call the right thing.

He said it then, as if he had plucked the words right out of her mind. “We have to do the right thing now.”

She sat back in her chair and clasped her hands beneath the hard swell of her belly. “Your idea of the right thing and mine are not the same, Logan.”

He answered her with measured care. “The right thing is the right thing, period.”

“Fine. Whatever. The point is, I’m not going to marry you.”

Chapter Two

Logan had pretty much expected this. He straightened in the chair and kept his voice level and reasonable. “Before you turn me down flat, let’s discuss this a little. You’re in no position to raise a child on your own, and I’m willing to—”

“Logan, I told you. No. It’s a two-letter word meaning negative, out of the question. Uh-uh. Forgetaboutit.” She pushed herself to her feet. “We are not getting married.”

“Why not?”

She stared at him for a moment, then made a show of hitting her forehead with the heel of her hand. “What? You can’t figure that one out for yourself?”

“Spare me the theatrics. Just answer the question. Why not?”

Muttering under her breath, she turned to her groceries, grabbed a box of Wheat Thins in one hand and a can of cocoa mix in the other and started toward the ancient wood-burning stove that crouched against the wall by the front door.