Daddy in the Making

chapter Eleven

What was wrong with Conn?

His arms had stiffened around Rita, and even though she hadn’t been with more than two men her entire life, she knew that this wasn’t normal for an afterglow.

A contented flow of hormones had been undulating through her, but now it cooled to a near stop. She rolled away from him a bit, enough to look into his eyes.

He was trying to hide whatever he was feeling; his gaze was shadowed, blocking her off.

Warily, she asked, “What’s going on?”

He started to shake his head, but she stopped him by cupping his face.

“Don’t,” she said. Her worst fears pushed at her, conjuring questions, suspicions.

She didn’t want to ask, but it was as if the words came all on their own.

“Did we just trigger something in your mind, Conn?”

He didn’t seem to know what to say, and panic set into her. “I can see there’s something going on. It’s right there in your eyes.”

Even as he rested his hand under her jaw, the shadows still loomed in his gaze. “Rita, I—”

She sat up, gathering the sheet so she could pull it over her chest. Suddenly, it felt as if he were more of a stranger to her than he had ever been. They should be in each other’s arms after making love, not a million miles apart.

“What did you remember?” she asked and, God help her, but it sounded like another of her accusations.

He sat up, as well, bracing himself against the headboard, as if lying down left him too exposed. “It wasn’t anything we have to talk about right now, Rita.”

Now her heart was spinning, like a pinwheel caught in a stormy wind. “You’re not going to tell me what you saw?”

He reached out a hand to her in what seemed to be a peace offering, but there was an edge to his voice when he spoke, indicating that everything wasn’t so okay.

“This isn’t the time.”

“I think it is,” she said.

When he blew out a ragged breath, she could see he was frustrated.

This couldn’t be good, she thought. Why wouldn’t he just tell her?

She wiped a hand over her face, but that was a mistake, because it blocked her view of Conn. And in that second of darkness, she saw another man in his place.

Kevin.

Conn couldn’t have known it, but his refusal to be honest with her was too damned reminiscent of her ex-fiancé on the night he’d sat her down at the kitchen table, telling her that he had been lying to her for a long time about loving her. He wasn’t ready to be a father—he wouldn’t ever be with her. And by the way, he’d been seeing another woman, who was waiting for him in a hotel just outside of town.

Lies. That was where the trouble started with men, because when lies were discovered, they led to full-on betrayal.

But was it fair to compare Conn to Kevin?

Why ask herself, when she couldn’t even stop the comparisons?

She tried to still her pulse, but it was impossible. Yet she did manage to smooth out her voice.

“You’re scaring me right now, Conn.”

He cursed. She could tell that he felt trapped because, through and through, the Conn she had come to know was an honest man. Lying was eating at him.

The room was soundless except for her heartbeat nattering away in her ears, and when he finally started to talk, it was as if she was hearing him through a layer of cotton soaked by ether.

“You were right,” he said. “Being with you did bring something back to me.”

“What?”

He slowly connected to her gaze, his own still troubled. “The morning I left.”

She paused, and relief pumped through her. “I thought you were going to say something worse. We know what happened that morning. You took my necklace, said you’d be back, then you got in that accident.”

“That’s what I remembered before now. But there’s more to it than that.”

More?

The word echoed like a growl in a dark cave.

He said, “Maybe my mind is playing tricks on me. Sometimes I don’t even know what I can believe.”

“Are you saying that your mind is creating false memories? Has that happened before?”

“No.”

But he was wishing it had happened now, right?

“Just tell me,” she said, because waiting was tearing her apart.

He stared straight ahead, and time ticked by.

Then he finally said, “It’s like I don’t even know the guy in the memory. I woke up in bed with you and—this is the only part that makes sense—I felt my heart grow about fifty times its normal size. You did something to me that no one else has ever done before, Rita.”

That should be good news.... But then why did his low tone suggest that a bad part was yet to come?

Conn had pulled the sheets up and over his hips. “Emmet always tells me that I didn’t invest much feeling in my one-night stands. And that was obvious in this memory. But I guess the fact that I felt something for you confused the hell out of me....” He emphatically shook his head. “No, I take that back. It confused the hell out of him.”

No, you got it right the first time, Rita thought, fear gripping her again, even though she wanted so badly to banish it. It confused the hell out of you.

Because even if the new Conn was trying his hardest to separate himself from the old one, his memories were still a part of him. And once he got used to them being there again, how long would it take for him to go back to old habits?

How many other returned memories would it take for him to change back into who he really was?

Sheer horror was gripping her as the truth piled up on itself, making a bigger and bigger case for the reality of their situation—one she had been hoping would never, ever materialize.

“And what came next?” she asked in a monotone. Numbness. It was the only way she could hear the rest of this.

His skin had gone ruddy, as if he were mortified. “Just remember that I’m as far away from the old Conn as I can get. You can do that, right?”

She barely nodded.

He cautiously went on. “I remember how I wanted more time with you than just the one night we had together. I wasn’t sure I even wanted to leave that morning, even though I had to. I was going to that appointment at the Hervy Ranch, and—this part isn’t pretty, but I won’t lie to you—I was trying not to wake you up as I got dressed.”

She recalled that moment—her waking up, seeing him shrugging into his shirt, then grinning at her.

“You saw me in bed,” she said, “and you picked up my necklace from the floor and told me you’d return it to me when you came back for another night.”

“Yeah.” His face got even redder.

She had a really bad feeling about this. “What is it, Conn?”

A thud of time slumped by before he said, “I was intending to be there only for one more night, and that’s it.”

Oh.

She wanted to yell at him for not sugar-coating the truth, for not letting her down easily. But she had wanted to hear it.

Anger and embarrassment forced the words out of her. “You just wanted a little bit more of the St. Valentine slut, and then you were going to gracefully let me down, just like you did with all the others.”

“I wouldn’t put it that way.”

“Then what way would you put it?”

He merely shook his head, probably knowing that, for Rita, this was just like a slow-motion instant replay of a sick accident. This was confirmation that he hadn’t planned to stick around at all, and in spite of all his recent good intentions, he would’ve eventually left the woman he’d so carelessly seduced, just as he had anyway on the night he was supposed to have shown up again at her hotel, and then the morning after when he still hadn’t appeared, and then the day after that.

Even if he had come back for one more night initially, he would’ve dumped her in the end.

“Maybe,” he said, “I would’ve changed my mind after I came back to you and stayed beyond that second night. We don’t know that for sure.”

“Don’t even tell me you fell head over heels in love with me.” A short laugh escaped her. “From what you just said, you don’t seem the type who would’ve succumbed to that.”

She started to climb out of bed, taking the sheet with her.

He grabbed the material, and she couldn’t go anywhere—not unless she wanted to bare her body to him, and that would make her feel more stripped than ever.

“Rita, I’m not that guy. You have to believe me.” He sounded just as bewildered as she was. “I’m sure of who I am now. I’m ready to have children with you. And I’m not afraid to give my heart to someone—not after you came back into my life. Can’t you see any of that?”

By now the shock had passed and churning hopelessness took its place, quivery and out of control.

“No, I can’t see it,” she said. “What I see is a man who’s just on the edge of remembering other things about himself—things he probably won’t like. What else did you do in the past that might affect us? What else will you recall that might make me feel as if I’m only a token chance at redemption for you?”

He sounded destroyed. “Why does it matter what I felt then? Because now I—”

“Don’t say it.” She couldn’t hear a profession of love. She didn’t even know what the word was anymore, didn’t even know if old Conn or new Conn would be here a few weeks from now if more awful memories started rolling in, one after another.

Stubbornly, he finished his sentence. “I love you, Rita.”

Dammit. She had been so ready to say it to him only minutes ago.

But now it was so easy to remember that Kevin, too, had said I love you to her. He was living proof that it didn’t have to mean a thing.

A sob that she hadn’t even noticed finally burst out of her. “You’re in no shape to be telling anyone about loving them.”

He reared back, because, once, she had told him he was unreliable. Certainly, he had proven otherwise, but with this surfaced memory, they were right back at square one.

“I’m a better man now than I was,” he said, repeating what he had told her before, even though it didn’t sound as if he quite believed it as much now.

She had to get out of here, because love was a trap. She’d been in it once, and she couldn’t survive another epic failure—not when there was still enough time to save herself and her children.

“This is where it all begins,” she said, hating herself for pointing this out. “You’re going to start getting other memories back. Maybe you’ll fall into old patterns, because people don’t change as much as they’d like to think, Conn—they only do what’s easiest for them. They leave their women because there’s a newer upgrade to be had. They forget that they have responsibilities.”

She could’ve been talking about Kevin...or the old Conn. Either way, neither could ever have a place in her life. She was sure of that now.

“This isn’t about your ex,” he said.

Yet even if that was true, the shadows still remained in Conn’s gaze, telling her that her comments had struck home, and he was wondering if he could hold on to the personality he had adopted.

Since he had let go of the sheet, Rita cocooned it around herself now, leaning back against the wall for support as another sob gathered in her chest. Even with all this pain, she wanted to give him one more chance so badly.

Just one.

“Can you really tell me,” she asked quietly, “if you’re sure that you’ll never go back to being the way you were?”

Something sliced through his gaze then, and she recognized it as pure doubt.

And that was all she needed to feed her fears, making them burn harder, obliterating everything else.

How had this happened? Why? God, it just wasn’t fair that they’d been so close to happiness, only to have it yanked away like this.

But she’d known this day would come, hadn’t she? And it made perfect sense that this memory would’ve resurfaced after the first time they’d been together, dredging up the same emotions.

She began to leave, only wanting to find her clothes and fumble her way back into them.

But his wrecked voice stopped her. “Rita?”

“Time,” she murmured. Nothing made sense—not even her answer, until she pushed down that sob in her throat and her thoughts clarified slightly. “I need some time.”

The longest pause in existence followed. Then he said, “I understand.”

She tried with all her might not to look back at him, but damn her, she did it, and for the second time that day, she broke apart.

He was halfway out of bed, covered by the quilt he’d tugged over himself, his feet on the floor, his back hunched as he rested his arms on his thighs. It looked as if he hadn’t slept in months, his gaze haunted, yearning, as he watched her.

Just as broken as she was.

Was this what the rest of their lives would be like together? One revelation after another that chipped at them, as well as their family?

She couldn’t imagine subjecting Kristy or another child to that, not after one father had already left.

Couldn’t imagine surviving it herself, either.

There wasn’t anything more to say, so she went to the entryway, where her clothes waited in disarray.

Then she went out the door, feeling as if she’d left her heart in that room right along with Conn.

* * *

Conn packed up and headed home after that.

Why stay and make matters worse? Rita had told him that she needed some time, and if he was there looming over her, it would do more harm than good.

He’d written a short note to Kristy, leaving it at the reception desk for Rita, who wasn’t on duty when he checked out. She could decide whether to give the message to the little girl he’d grown so fond of lately. It didn’t say much—just that he needed to get back to his ranch and that he wasn’t very far away and he would miss her.

But he didn’t make promises to the girl. He didn’t feel right about doing that anymore when he had no solid ground to base them on.

Would his memories change him?

Would he revert back to the old Conn one day and realize that he wasn’t built for a relationship, then cause a lot of damage to the one he was in?

If Rita needed time to herself, then he probably did, too, so he drove to his family ranch, trying not to feel as if he was traveling back in time to the old Conn’s house...and the old Conn’s habits of escape.

The first night, he was able to keep to himself, without anyone bothering him after he’d let Bradon know he was back on the property.

The next day, he threw all his efforts into checking the fence lines, then had dinner in front of the droning TV by himself. He thought of how Rita liked to eat in front of the tube, too.

Actually, he couldn’t get his mind off Rita.

Dammit, he felt as if there were an empty cave inside of him—one that had been lit up when he’d been around her and Kristy, but was now pitch dark.

The third day, he did some maintenance work in and around the cattle barn, managing to avoid any deep conversation with his brothers. But that night, Emmet showed up on Conn’s porch with a six-pack of beer.

“You look in need of a drink,” his older brother said.

Conn couldn’t disagree, and he invited Emmet into his cabin. They plopped down on his couch, which was covered by a throw with spur decorations sewn into it.

Emmet popped open the caps on the two bottles, handing one over. “I’ve never seen you looking so hangdog.”

Conn’s first instinct was to play the lone wolf and keep his problems to himself. But that was what the old Conn had done, and damn it all if he was going to fall into that guy’s habits, no matter what Rita feared.

“I’m in a quandary,” he said.

“It’s your woman, isn’t it?” Emmet flipped his hat off, and it landed on a nearby recliner.

“I wouldn’t say she’s my woman. Not anymore.”

“I should’ve known right off the bat. You’ve been spending all your time with her, yet, suddenly, here you are again, looking like the saddest story in creation.”

Conn put down his beer, untouched. “I got back a memory, and it told me that I intended to ditch Rita after I spent another night with her.”

“You got some insight into your full libido, then. I’m sure it wasn’t a surprise.”

“Not after you told me over and over what I used to be like.” He slumped in his seat. “It just showed me that I might really be as unstable for her as she thought in the first place.”

“Why does that matter?”

Conn ran a hand through his hair. “She’s carrying my baby, Emmet.”

His brother gave a low whistle. “Congratulations?”

“I was happy about it, if you can believe it.”

“With the way you’ve turned things around, I kind of do.”

“Did I ever do that before?”

“Impregnate a woman? Not to my knowledge.” Emmet narrowed his gaze at Conn. “And you never introduced the family to a woman before, either. Yet on Thanksgiving, you were here with a real live woman and her little girl.”

Now that Conn had started sharing, it all came out. How he had wanted to prove to Rita that he was father material in spite of his shortcomings, how the memory had come back yesterday and thrown them both for a loop that might’ve ruined everything.

Emmet had been listening patiently, but when Conn was done, he asked, “I don’t know what to say. My track record with women isn’t exactly first-rate, either, so I’m not really one to come to for advice.”

“Sarah Humphries?” Conn asked.

Emmet nodded, gripping his beer bottle. “I proposed to her on a whim. Generally, I tend not to think matters through to their fullest, and she knew that. And she was smart enough to say no to me.” He exhaled. “I’m not sure where she is now, but I think of her sometimes. Wish I didn’t, but I do.”

The two of them sat there for a second or three, as if neither of them knew what to say about Conn’s problem.

Finally, Emmet spoke. “I can’t blame Rita for needing some time to herself to think. Put yourself in a woman’s head for an instant. It’s bad enough that they worry so much, but now, with what Rita knows about you, there’s got to be a huge doubt about what other shenanigans you pulled.”

“How could I fall back into my old patterns, though?” He shook his head. “You said once that there are a lot of people who would love a clean slate in life. I have that. So why do I think it’s suddenly going to be cluttered with the decisions I made before now? Haven’t I learned anything lately, and isn’t that enough to overcome the old Conn?”

As he said it, he realized it was true. Rita, Kristy and the baby had altered him in a profound way. He’d grown up. He’d owned up to being the man they deserved.

But it really might take some time for Rita to see that. She’d said she was ready to get over what her ex-fiancé had done to her, yet Conn wasn’t so sure that Kevin’s actions weren’t coloring everything that was happening now.

Emmet was nodding at Conn, drinking his beer, and smiling.

“What?” Conn asked.

“I like what I’m seeing. It’d be so simple for you to shut yourself away from all this trouble, yet here you are, ready to get back into the thick of it.”

“Yeah, I am.” He picked up his beer again. “Mom’s gonna burst when she finds out that Dillon isn’t the only one who’s having a baby.”

“She always did have high hopes for you.”

Rita had nursed them for Conn, too, and he wasn’t going to disappoint her.

But how long would he have to wait until she gave him another chance to prove that?

* * *

As the sun brought morning to St. Valentine, Rita was already up and about, covering maid service for an employee who had called in sick, then taking Kristy to preschool and rushing back to the hotel to continue changing beds and tidying up.

She hadn’t stopped working since Conn had regained that morning-after memory, and sometimes she wondered if this was her own way of blocking out the agony—by finding diversions.

Was that what she’d been doing the whole time since Kevin had worked her over?

While Rita pushed a maid’s cart through the hallway, Margery Wilmore came up the stairs. She saw Rita and her hand flew to her ample chest.

“You’re going to drive yourself into the ground,” she said, going around to the other side of the cart and trying to pull it away from Rita. “Have you even eaten a decent breakfast? Pregnant women need more than the usual, you know. I heard you telling Janelle at the desk that you’d grab a big meal when you got back from taking Kristy to school.”

“I had a little something.” An apple and some yogurt sprinkled with granola. But she was still hungry, and she really would eat more just as soon as she was done with this room.

Margery was still on her. “I’m telling you, you should—”

“I’m fine.” And she was. She would even have been able to handle all Kristy’s questions about when Conn was coming back. Her daughter had listened as Rita read his note and Kristy hadn’t stopped asking about him since.

But would Rita ever have any answers for Kristy—or herself? Especially with a man who might change before her very eyes?

When Rita grabbed a load of towels, Margery raised her hands in surrender. “At least let me help.”

“I can do this myself, Margery.” Just as she had raised Kristy and...

And would raise this baby?

As she entered the room and dropped the towels on the clean bathroom counter, she braced her hands on the edge, head down.

She was more exhausted than she remembered ever being. Her mind was always whirring with scenarios, even in the middle of the night. What if Conn decided that she wasn’t enough for him, and he sought out another woman? What if he changed his mind about the baby and said he wasn’t ready for one, after all?

She’d been blindsided by Kevin, but with Conn, she could be prepared.

Biting her lip to keep from letting her emotions take over, she bent her head.

I just want him to come back...

Margery was in the main room, changing the sheets, but Rita could still hear the woman’s singsong voice.

“Where’s that friend of yours? Conn? He was doing a good job of seeing that you took care of yourself.”

Rita raised her head, looking in the mirror and seeing a total stranger with smudges under her eyes. Weird, because Conn had probably gone through the same thing a hundred times or more.

This was what it was like to not know yourself. But did that make her a bad person, unreliable?

Unsuitable?

“Conn had to go back to his ranch,” Rita said. “But I thought you didn’t like that I was taking some time off while he was around.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Maybe her employee hadn’t, in so many words. But Margery Wilmore was as transparent as a microscope lens.

“Anyway,” Margery said, “maybe you should get him back here. He seemed to have an...attachment to you.”

Rita rolled her eyes. She came close to blurting out that Conn was the father of this baby, that’s why he had an attachment, but she couldn’t. She didn’t have the strength.

It would take a lot of it for her to admit that she did love Conn and that, in spite of what she’d said to him the other day, she did trust him.

But had she already pushed him so far away that he wouldn’t come back? Would she be getting word from a lawyer sometime that he was going to go around her to get his parental rights?

Rita’s head kept spinning with everything that was in it, but she pushed away from the counter, hanging the towels on the racks, then coming out of the bathroom.

Margery was halfway through making the bed. “Just look at you. I’ll take over and—”

A wave of dizziness attacked Rita so fast that she stumbled, the floor rushing up toward her. She grasped for something, but there was nothing to break her fall, and she dropped to the ground.

Right flat on her stomach.

The breath was knocked out of her, and she barely got out an “Oh, God.”

Margery shrieked and tried to help her up.

“I’m calling Dr. Ambrose,” Margery said through Rita’s fog.

All she could think of was the baby and...

Wonder Woman. She’d been trying to do it all herself, attempting to forget about Conn, and now...

As she hugged her tummy, she touched Margery’s leg.

“Conn,” she said without thinking of the consequences. All she was doing was feeling, reeling, needing him here.

“Call Conn for me.”