The Rancher's Unexpected Family Page 7

  She thought she heard someone whispering that they had come to eat, but maybe that was her imagination.

  “It will be costly,” she admitted, amid some scowls and shaking of heads. “But it’s important.” She wanted to list the reasons why, but she knew that a native son would make a bigger impact. Especially if the native son was almost a god to the townspeople.

  So, after the briefest of comments explaining the situation, she turned toward Holt. “Mr. Calhoun will explain what we’re up against, what our options are and how we can make this happen.” That was what she had included on Holt’s list when she’d mentioned his part. Of course, she had given him many suggestions on things he might mention during his talk.

  “Thank you for listening,” she ended to polite applause. A few friends and acquaintances, including Mrs. Best and Ava, clapped much more enthusiastically.

  “Good idea,” Luann said. Warmth stole through Kathryn. When she’d been here years ago, her parents’ reclusive ways had set her apart and she hadn’t had real friends.

  But when the polite applause faded to silence and Holt stepped onto the stage, the crowd went wild. There was hooting and hollering and boot stomping. “You tell us, Holt,” some man called out.

  Holt had removed his hat and his dark hair shone in the light. Standing on the small stage, his shoulders seemed broader, his legs longer. He didn’t disappear behind the podium or take out any paper.

  “Not much to say here. You all heard what Kathryn said. She’s 100 percent right and that’s a fact. We need a doctor and a clinic. You can probably figure out the reasons why. Does anyone have a problem with that?”

  Everyone looked around. No one spoke.

  “Good. Then we’ll do it. I’ll help. You’ll help. Kathryn will tell you how it’s going to get done. If you’re uncertain of the reasons why, she has a list that will clear things up for you. Listen to what she has to say because this is important. Then, when she’s through and you’re all on board, we’ll celebrate.” He nodded toward the tables in the back. Then he stepped off the stage.

  Kathryn looked at him in disbelief. He had been up on the stage less than a minute. He stared her straight in the eye, challenging her. What was she going to do?

  What could she do? She couldn’t chastise Holt right here in front of his adoring fans. They would probably run her out of town. So, she gave him a tight smile. Then she moved back on stage and began listing the reasons the clinic was needed, using all the arguments she had used on Holt. She told them what would be involved.

  “This is a project that the community has to get behind, but it’s an important one. You’ve gotten used to having a clinic—there are those who depend on it and none of us ever knows when it will be our turn. I’m not at liberty to discuss individual cases, but working in Dr. Cooper’s office, I’ve seen people in pain, people who would suffer if they didn’t get immediate medical attention.” She gave more real-life examples and, despite herself, tears threatened. She fought them back. She didn’t want to be accused of using people or trying to gain their cooperation by using her own scary situation as a ploy. Finally, she ran out of arguments. “So, I hope that after you’ve had a chance to review the facts, you’ll all agree to support this project,” she ended. “Are—are there any questions?”

  One woman raised her hand. “Will Holt be working on this?”

  This time Kathryn managed not to blush. She wasn’t sure if the woman was interested in him romantically or if she simply believed that Holt could move mountains. Kathryn was no longer so sure that he could move mountains. After all, he hadn’t done half of what she’d asked him to do tonight. No way was she answering the question for him.

  She turned to him. “Holt?”

  He almost glowered at her. “I said I would help. I meant that I would help in whatever way I’m needed.”

  The woman smiled. “I was pretty sure of that. You always do the right thing.”

  “That’s Holt. Always there to lend a hand or give some good advice,” another man said.

  Kathryn gritted her teeth. “Well, then, any more questions?”

  “Nope,” Johnny said. “Holt’s on board. That’s good enough for me.” She wondered if he had been coached to say that, or if it was really true. He was, after all, Holt’s brother-in-law.

  “Good enough for me, too,” Mrs. Best chimed in. A chorus of voices agreed.

  The mayor stood. “Well, then, if there’s nothing more...” She looked at Kathryn, who shook her head. “I’d say that you’ve all earned a meal.”

  Immediately there was applause and people began moving toward the back. Holt remained near the front of the room. As if he knew Kathryn wouldn’t be happy until she spoke to him.

  “You didn’t tell me that you were going to bribe them with food,” she said.

  “Don’t sound so prissy, Kathryn. You were concerned that no one would show up, and I told you they would. A little barbecue never hurt anyone.”

  “I know that. It was actually a good idea, but couldn’t you have at least told me about it? Or that you didn’t intend to talk about any of the things on my list.”

  “I think I might have mentioned before that I’m not one to get emotional. This needed emotion. You were the one to supply that.”

  She sucked in her breath. “I like to think that I’m professional.”

  He smiled. “You are that. Kind of prissy about it, too.”

  She frowned at him.

  He raised a brow. “Not that there’s anything wrong with prissy.”

  “I like being in control.”

  “It shows. And you were.”

  But she was no fool. “They came because of you. Or your food. Or both. And they agreed to go along because you were involved.”

  He shrugged. “Give them credit. They might not have jumped as soon as you wanted them to jump, but they’re not unreasonable people.”

  “They expect a lot of you. You like being Santa Claus?” she asked.

  “As an owner and manager of the biggest money-making concern in the area, I have obligations, and I don’t shirk them.”

  “Is that what this clinic is? An obligation?”

  “I have my reasons for doing this. So do you. The people at the clinic. Your baby. Your job.”

  Kathryn had watched him selflessly giving of his time. She also knew something else. “But some of my reasons seem selfish.”

  “No. They’re logical. You’re human.”

  “Maybe I’m just scared,” she admitted. “A job will keep me from being vulnerable. I can’t be vulnerable.”

  He gave her a long look, and she knew that she had said too much. Fortunately, Holt didn’t seem to want to discuss her vulnerable side any more than she did.

  “Understood,” he said. “And I’ll do what’s needed, but I won’t be what I’m not.”

  “Which is...”

  “The kind of man who operates on an emotional level. So don’t expect me to get up on a stage or anywhere else. Don’t expect me to share secrets or tell you everything I’m thinking. I never was and never will be that guy.”

  “All right,” she said. And he walked away. Within seconds, the crowd had glommed on to him. She was alone. But then she always had been. That was the way it would be from here on. Her and her baby. She would make a home for them. A life. And men like Holt would never have any say in that world or any power to hurt her.

  If truth be told, she was probably the only woman in Larkville who was glad that Holt wasn’t an emotional man. It made him safe.

  Or at least safer. Didn’t it?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HAD there ever been a woman so determined to be strong who looked as fragile as Kathryn did? Holt found himself turning the question over in his mind for the rest of the meeting. She had been upset with him for not letting her in, but he wasn’t a committee kind of guy.

  Stop kidding yourself, Calhoun. It’s not the committee that makes you uncomfortable. It’s Kathryn. It was simple, really
. He found her attractive. More than attractive. That he could have dealt with, but he also found her intriguing. She’d come back to Larkville a bit beaten up, and here in a town where she’d apparently been an unknown she was going to make her stand, do some good, rebuild her world and rise from the ashes like a phoenix. A phoenix who would soon fly away with her baby and never return.

  Remember that, he told himself. He’d already played this scene before. Lost people. Lots of people, but most importantly, a woman. A baby.

  And she wanted to be short-term partners with him. No question about it, Kathryn was dangerous. With her passion and her demands, her temporary stature and her baby on the way, she was everything he should be avoiding.

  That wasn’t happening. He’d given his word. He’d set wheels in motion and he would continue right through to the end. But if he spent too much time in Kathryn’s presence he was going to kiss her. He might even lose control and let kissing lead to more. The only way to avoid that was to take a big step back and do his helping from a distance.

  That should work. It would at least make sure that no life-changing mistakes were made.

  * * *

  Okay, she got it, Kathryn thought the next day. Holt wasn’t going to be led, and he didn’t want to spend time with her. That was good, wasn’t it? Because she didn’t want to spend much time with him, either.

  If she did, sooner or later he would disappoint her.

  The thought made her smile. You mean he hasn’t disappointed you yet? she asked herself.

  The answer was complicated. He hadn’t let her lead him where she wanted him to go, but he had produced the results she’d wanted. So she probably should back off, tell him what she was doing and simply wait for him to produce results on his end.

  “All right, let’s begin,” she murmured, staring at the keyboard. There wasn’t even any point in wondering if Holt was into social networking. The very thought would probably have those dark eyes turning icy and dangerous. But he was still a businessman. She addressed an email to him. It read:

  Results of the meeting. Two hundred people in attendance. All in favor of moving ahead. Now we fundraise. Ideas?

  When no response appeared within a few hours, she wrote another. All it said was:

  Please?

  Five minutes later, she got a response.

  Don’t do that.

  Do what?

  Beg. You know how I feel about begging.

  I wasn’t. I was asking nicely.

  I’m not nice. Just say what you want.

  I did. You ignored me.

  I’m running a ranch here.

  I know, but...

  All right. You want a progress report. I’ve contacted a friend who has contacted a friend who is an instructor at a well-known medical college in Chicago. He’s sending out feelers. As for the fundraiser, that’s outside my comfort zone.

  I’ll come up with some ideas.

  That would be best.

  And then I’ll run them past you.

  You should know that I’ll probably say yes to anything.

  Even if it’s something that might be embarrassing for you?

  Are you baiting me?

  Maybe she was, Kathryn thought. It occurred to her that even though she was enjoying this time in Larkville much more than the last, and even though everyone in town had been nice to her—they smiled at her on the street, the patients brought her cookies and oohed and aahed over her expanding girth—she didn’t really spend any time socializing. Maybe that was because she was afraid of making friends she’d have to leave behind. Her house wasn’t that close to other houses because her parents had been sticklers for privacy and they had looked down on the citizens of Larkville. There were empty lots on either side of her and an empty field across the road. Holt was one of the few people she talked to on a regular basis outside of work.

  So, yes, maybe she was enjoying this exchange too much. Maybe she was messing with him a bit.

  She was also starting to experience major pains. Long, undulating waves of pain that made it feel as if her entire body was pulsing, contracting, hurting.

  “It’ll go away,” she thought. She hoped. And it did...until it came back and hunted her down.

  She doubled over and panic filled her soul.

  * * *

  Holt waited for Kathryn’s response. And waited.

  Nothing happened. And he didn’t even consider that she had simply decided to be an ass like him and was making him wait. That wasn’t Kathryn’s way. She was gung ho all the way. If she wasn’t responding, there was a reason.

  He called her. The phone rang three times. Four. The machine picked up. The beep finally sounded.

  “Kathryn, pick up. It’s Holt,” he ordered.

  Silence. Eventually the machine cut off.

  He dialed again, and now his muscles felt tight, his heart was pounding the way it had when his father had collapsed. “Kathryn, answer the damn phone. I need to talk about—about the fundraiser.” He paused. She still didn’t answer. “And I’m coming over. To talk about the fundraiser,” he lied.

  The phone clicked as the receiver was lifted. “Holt? Don’t...don’t come. It’s not a good time.” Her voice was too soft, the words too halting. “It’s...it’s really...”

  Holt heard a distinct gasp and then a moan. “Your back? Braxton Hicks?” he asked.

  Silence.

  “Kathryn? Talk. Now,” he ordered.

  He knew something was wrong when she didn’t instantly inform him that she wasn’t into controlling men like him. “I— Braxton Hicks?” she said. “No. I don’t...think so. I don’t know.” He could hear her breath coming and going. That was bad. Very bad.

  “If you don’t know, then it’s time to go to the hospital and find out.”

  More silence.

  He cursed the distance and the phone and this inadequate way of communicating. “Kathryn?”

  “Yes, I will,” she promised. “I’ll go now.” Her voice started to fade and he could tell she was going to hang up.

  “Dammit, no! Stop. Do not hang up the phone. And above all, don’t get into that car. That’s an order. You can’t drive. Don’t even think about it.”

  “I— All right, no, I can’t drive. I started thinking about this last week, but then...I’m going to go ask Johanna.”

  “No. You’re not. Johanna may be an excellent mayor, but she drives like total crap. And besides, it’s too far. Don’t move. I’m coming to get you.”

  “I can’t let you do that.”

  He wanted to ask why, but all this talk was wasting time. “Watch me. I guarantee I’ll have you to Austin in no time.”

  Then he jogged out to the hangar and jumped into his helicopter.

  * * *

  Holt came through the door looking like one of those guys in a movie, the ones that come walking out of the fog. The ones that come to save the day when all was lost.

  And Kathryn was ready to follow him anywhere, because she had never envisioned what this pain would be like. It was like nothing she’d ever experienced. It was eating her alive. And she had to bear it. She had to do everything she was supposed to in order to make sure her baby’s health wasn’t compromised, but when the pain came in waves, the urge to sink to her knees or to curl up in a ball was fierce.

  The thing was, she had tried both, and neither one of them did a thing to cut the pain.

  But Holt would get her to the hospital. Just as he’d made sure people came to the meeting, he would make sure she got to a safe place to give birth. Because that was what Holt did. He helped people in the most efficient way possible. His way. Not their way, but the job got done nonetheless.

  “Do you have everything you need?” he asked.

  She nodded, reaching for a small bag she had packed weeks ago.

  He beat her to it, scooping up the bag. “You’re ready?”

  “Yes.” It was all she could get out as the waves of pain returned and she felt herself blanching, being suck
ed under. Pain that beat her down, threw her around and pummeled her, overwhelming her.

  Holt lifted her as if she was nothing. Weightless. His long strides took them outside and across the street to the empty field. The contraction began to subside.

  “This probably wasn’t on your agenda today,” she said weakly as he placed her in the helicopter and strapped her in.

  “Always plan for the unexpected,” he said. “That’s life on a ranch. This isn’t going to ruin my day.”

  But she could tell that he was tense. His jaw was locked, his words, comforting as they were, were clipped. “I wish I had someone to take care of you while I fly, but you’ll simply have to rely on the sound of my voice,” he warned.

  To her surprise she still had the strength to laugh. A little. “You’ve never wanted to talk before.”

  “Anyone can rattle nonsense. It takes practice to be a sullen uncommunicative jackass,” he told her. “I’ll do my best.”

  “Did you...did you just make a joke?” she asked. But then the pain returned.

  “Be still,” Holt ordered. “Breathe. Breathe. Watch me while I fly. Concentrate on me and breathe.” The noise of the propeller was loud, but she could still hear every word as he bit them off.

  She focused on his hands on the controls. Long, lean fingers. She stared. She breathed. Occasionally a tiny gasp would escape her.

  His hands tightened on the controls.

  “I’ll—I’ll try not to do that again,” she said.