The Daddy Plan

She wasn’t sure what had just happened, but something had. She might not be the only one unwilling to confide her secrets.

When they’d settled on the sofa, Patches raised his head but then went back to sleep, his nose close to Jasper’s.

“I’m surprised he doesn’t mind sharing his bed,” Corrie noticed.

“Patches never met a dog he didn’t like.”

She laughed and the tension that had cropped up between them dissipated.

Sam dipped his cookies into his hot chocolate and didn’t seem bothered when they disintegrated in it. She took hers apart, licked off the icing and ate one half at a time. As she did, she noticed Sam watching her.

She wiped her hand across her mouth. “Crumbs?” she asked.

“A few.” His voice was low and husky. With his thumb, he wiped the corner of her mouth.

She went very still. Time seemed to stop. Her breathing became shallower and faster.

Sam set his mug down on the coffee table. “I think I’ve had enough. I’m going to try to sleep again. You should, too.”

If she slept, she knew what fantasies would invade her dreams—Sam kissing her…Sam making love to her.

Indulging in fantasies would throw her off course. She wouldn’t let a man do that to her.

She would stay on course and become a mother—with or without Sam Barclay.

Sam came in the front door, the morning light brightening the cabin. The dogs followed him inside, and Corrie realized she hadn’t even heard them leave. Sam looked different this morning and she noticed why—he’d shaved off his beard.

“I’m going back to Rapid Creek with you today,” he announced. “I’ll follow you.”

She’d never expected this. “I didn’t think you’d come home until the end of the week.”

“I’m not sure the snow’s finished. I don’t want to see you get caught in it alone while you’re trying to drive home.”

It seemed Sam Barclay had a chivalrous streak. She should have known that but it had never been directed at her before. “I don’t need your protection, Sam. Really. I’ll be fine if you want to stay.”

“It’s time for me to go back. I’ll be packed in about a half hour.” Sam was keeping his distance this morning. She thought about last night on the sofa when he’d touched her so gently, so sensually, so temptingly.

“Have you made a decision about…anything else?”

“You’ll be the first one to know when I do.”

She felt herself blush. This new awareness between them was unsettling. It could be exciting, but she wouldn’t let excitement take hold, not with what they were considering. She needed Sam as a friend, not as the hunky object of a teenage-like crush. Hormones as an adult were still hormones. She could control them as she always had. She’d never understood women who found themselves in situations they couldn’t handle. Her mind had always ruled her body and she didn’t see that changing now.

Corrie picked up the towel she’d used on Jasper last night. “I’ll rub him down and then get a quick shower if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine. Just don’t stay in too long or you’ll run out of hot water.”

“Do you happen to have a hair dryer?” She thought he might laugh at her request.

Instead he frowned. “As a matter of fact, I do.” His voice went lower. “I brought Alicia up here once and she forgot it.”

Alicia. Alicia had been here with Sam.

Corrie knew without a doubt that the two of them hadn’t slept in separate rooms. Alicia Walker was the kind of woman who went after what she wanted and she’d wanted Sam. Corrie still didn’t know who’d broken the engagement but from the expression on Sam’s face, now wasn’t the time to ask.

Sam didn’t stay while she toweled Jasper. Apparently mentioning Alicia had brought up memories he didn’t want to think about. Maybe she was the one who had broken it off and he still wanted to be engaged. Maybe he still wanted to marry her.

When Corrie stepped into Sam’s bathroom, she realized it wasn’t as warm as the living room and she didn’t dawdle in the shower. She’d forgotten to ask for a fresh towel so she pulled Sam’s from the rack. It smelled like his soap and him. He rarely wore cologne. He’d told her after she’d been hired that some animals were skittish about smells.

After she vigorously toweled her hair and knew she wouldn’t be able to do anything about the ringlets without a curling iron, she began dressing. She’d snapped her jeans and just fastened her bra when there was a knock on the door. She froze.

“I have the hair dryer,” Sam called from the other side.

“Just a minute.” Quickly she tugged her sweater over her head and lifted out her wet hair. As she opened the door, she was breathless.

Sam’s gaze lingered on her wet hair. “You look different.” He handed her the hair dryer.

“Just wait. I’ll look like a dandelion gone to seed when I dry it with this.”

He laughed out loud. “Corrie, I should have talked to you about more than animals the past couple of years. You know how to laugh at yourself. Do you know what a rare quality that is?”

“I just say the truth before someone else can. It’s a defense mechanism.”

“Maybe it is.” As if he couldn’t help himself, he reached out and tugged a strand of her hair that had gotten caught under her sweater and freed it to lie on her shoulder. He looked as if he wanted to say something…or do something. His dark-brown eyes were unreadable, but she thought he leaned toward her just a bit. Then he was stepping back.

“Thanks, I’ll be finished in about five minutes,” she murmured.

“We’d better get going as soon as we can. I don’t like the looks of that sky.”

Fifteen minutes later, they were on the road. Jasper and Patches had chosen to hop into Sam’s van so Corrie led the procession, her mind racing. Would Sam decide to be her donor? And if he was, what then? Maybe both of their lives would be a lot simpler if she just went to a fertility clinic in Minneapolis. There was a good one there. Sam would be off the hook and she—

She just didn’t like the idea of being impregnated by a stranger’s sperm. Sam’s child…She smiled. Sam’s child would be a handful, she was sure.

Snow began to fall, big heavy flakes mixed with shards of ice. The roads were plowed but not altogether clear from the day before. Corrie glanced in the rearview mirror. Sam was concentrating on the space between their cars. She felt so pleased he’d decided to follow her. She had lived in Minnesota all of her life and wasn’t a stranger to driving on snowy roads. But the ice chips mixed with the snowflakes had her easing her foot off the accelerator and made her fingers grip the wheel tighter.

Corrie saw the mound of snow too late. The pile could have fallen from a vehicle as it was driven down the road. Wherever it had come from, as soon as her left front tire hit it, she went into a skid. Her anti-lock brakes kicked in but the car just wouldn’t stop coasting. She ended up with her left side in the snowbank across the road from where she should be. The snowbank went halfway up her window.

It all happened so fast, she was almost dizzy with the speed of it. Her side of the car tilted into the snowbank and she couldn’t see anything. She knew she had to get out and tell Sam she was okay, but she was still a little breathless from the skid—

The passenger-side door opened. She could hear barking—Jasper’s shorter barks and Patches’s more resounding ones. In an instant, Sam was inside the car, his voice worried, his expression set in stone.

“Corrie, don’t move. Just tell me if anything hurts.”

Hurts? She couldn’t be hurt. She’d simply crossed to the wrong side of the road. She was wearing her seat belt and reached to unfasten it. “I’m okay. I feel so stupid—”

He stayed her hand. “Trust me a minute. Take a deep breath.” He was studying her—her head, her face, her neck, her shoulders, her arms. “Can you move your legs okay?”

She wiggled her feet, then moved one leg at a time. Brushing his hand away from the seat belt, she unbuckled it. “I’m fine, Sam, really. I’m not a china doll.”