Chapter Seven
“Y ou have to let him go,” Bella said after Hayley described the previous day’s humiliation.
“You mean fire him?”
“You have no other choice.” Bella was not exactly known for putting herself out there, and her expression had bordered on being horrified as Hayley described asking Spence to be the father of her child and him turning her down.
“Would that I could,” Hayley said. She didn’t even know if she was paying him for anything other than the pipe corral, so it would be hard to fire him. “I need him. I don’t know why I asked when I did. I should have waited, but—”
“You wanted an answer so that you could move forward with the procedure, tie up the legalities and all that.”
Even though they were in the back corner of the Main Street Diner, and the only other patrons were sitting on the other side of the room, Hayley leaned forward and voiced her true disappointment in a whisper. “He would have been the perfect donor. He’s smart and easygoing and—”
“Really, really good-looking.”
They’d spent years apart since being college roomies, but Bella could still finish Hayley’s sentences for her. As if realizing where Hayley’s thoughts had gone, Bella held up a hand. “Sorry. That’s twice I’ve interrupted you.”
“Don’t let it happen again,” Hayley said with a mock scowl. Then she sighed. “I just thought that knowing the dad personally would make things less, I don’t know, chancy? I’d know for certain that the person is who they say they are.”
“Would anyone else you know fit the parameters? Smart, easygoing, willing to help you have a kid, then disappear from your life.”
“That sounds so . . .”
Hayley lifted her eyebrows, but Bella merely shook her head. “I am not interrupting again.”
“I gave you a lead-in.”
“Fine. It sounds so cold and clinical. Getting pregnant this way is clinical.”
“And that’s how I want it,” Hayley said. She’d had her share of relationships, mostly short, but two had lasted well over a year, and, like her mom, she seemed to choose guys that were wrong for her. While her mom gravitated toward charming, outgoing guys—guys who were a lot like Spence—Hayley had chosen low-key guys who had their own unique foibles, as everyone did.
But foibles aside, Hayley was beginning to think that the problem might be her. Maybe she wasn’t cut out to be a partner because the problems in her relationships usually started when she began to feel concerned about getting in so deep that it was going to hurt like hell when things blew up. And they would. She’d never known a relationship not to blow up. The obvious answer was to keep from getting in too deep.
“I’m going with the sperm donor catalog,” Hayley said. “Those guys are carefully screened.” She raised her eyebrows at Bella. “Right?”
“There have been enough AI horror stories over time to make me believe that a reputable clinic would screen carefully, thus keeping their reputation intact.”
“There you go,” Hayley said. “I’ll just do some research.”
Bella signaled the server and pulled a twenty out of her purse. “He’s coming to work today?”
There was no doubt what ‘he’ she meant. Spence, who would not be fathering her child.
“Tomorrow. We’re going to fix a fence that a tree fell on.”
“You’ll let me know how that goes? The working together, not the fence.”
Hayley shouldered her purse before sliding out of the booth. “I will. But I can pretty much guarantee that it’ll be a case of two people pretending that one never asked the other to be a baby daddy.”
*
“What’s eating you?”
Spence gave Reed a questioning look before starting a new row in the wood stack, dropping a couple of half rounds of fir into place. Finally, a job that Henry wasn’t doing, but only because his bursitis was flaring up.
Reed lifted two quarter rounds from the wood splitter and tossed them to the side, then placed another round on the bed. “Since you got back from Nevada, you’ve been preoccupied. Yesterday I assumed you were tired, but you’re still miles away.”
“Nothing’s eating me.”
“Nice try.”
Spence scowled at his brother. “It’s nothing.”
“Was it hard coming home again?”
“No.”
Reed gave a small shrug. “I thought that heading out on a job made you realize how much you miss the open road.”
Spence considered for a moment. “I can’t say that I heard the siren’s call.” It’d been a job like any other.
“You drove the speed limit?”
“Ha. Ha. Siren, like in Mrs. Bailey’s mythology unit.” Spence had always been more of a student than Reed, so he understood why Reed had no idea what he was talking about. He chucked more wood into the pile. “It’s not the open road that draws me. I just like doing different stuff. Seeing different things.”
“Which sounds like the call of the open road.”
Spence let out a sigh and changed the subject. “Lex’s birthday is coming up. Any big plans?”
“She’ll have a party in Bozeman with her mom and Greg and her friends, then will head down here for the weekend to celebrate with us.”
“Double birthday. Nice.”
“My daughter is no one’s fool.” Reed split another two rounds, then looked up to repeat innocently, “So what’s eating you?”
Spence gave his brother a dark look. “None of your business.”
“Fine.”
Reed turned his attention back to the wood splitter. He probably wasn’t done prying, and it occurred to Spence that his brother was a decent resource for the questions that were, yes, eating at him. Reed shared custody of his daughter with his ex-wife and her husband. It was a surprisingly friction-free relationship, with the three of them seemingly on the same page most of the time. That, he knew from the experiences of some of the divorced fathers he worked with, was something of an anomaly.
How would co-parenting work between two people who’d never been romantically involved? Like a business arrangement?
Not that he was thinking of going along with Hayley’s plan. It was just that he couldn’t get it out of his head, and he was kind of annoyed that this matter was on the radar at all.
No. He was annoyed that it kept . . . well . . . eating at him.
“Someone asked me to father a child.”
Reed dropped the fir round he’d been carrying. It barely missed his boot before rolling a few feet.
“Someone?”
“An acquaintance.”
“Ah.” Reed cocked his head, waiting for the rest.
Spence hoped that his brother would assume that it was an acquaintance he’d just worked with in Nevada. It wasn’t his place to out Hayley.
“It would be like a medical thing. You know... hand over a sample and the doctors do the rest.”
Reed merely nodded. Spence didn’t know if it was because he had nothing to say, or if it was because he did, but words failed him.
“I’m not wild about the idea of having a child in the world that I’m not helping to raise.”
“I agree. You don’t want that.”
The quiet conviction in Reed’s voice resonated.
“I didn’t understand what parenthood would be like before Lex. I thought that it was something that you just did. I didn’t understand parental instinct. I didn’t realize that once you have a kid, this crazy bond occurs. It’s... well, I can’t explain it, because it’s something you’ve got to feel. It’s the reason the cows get so freaking protective of their calves.”
If his wild man brother was waxing philosophic about a bond, then Spence had no choice but to believe (a) that it existed; and (b) that it was powerful, because it had certainly changed Reed. And yes, he’d seen a sweet cow go nuts when her baby was threatened.
“Don’t do it if you have no say in raising the kid. Trust me on this.”
“That’s what I’m thinking.” He carefully set the chunk of wood he’d been holding in one hand on the stack. “I guess part of me is kind of worried about who she is going to get to father her child.”
“Is this a close friend?”
Spence considered. Technically, no. But he felt a connection with Hayley that was probably based in her helping him all those years ago.
“If she wants to go it alone,” Reed said when Spence didn’t answer, “then I’d guess her best bet is one of those places where you read profiles and pick the characteristics you want.”
“I hear some of those guys lie on the application. You know, about health history and stuff.” Not that he’d studied the matter late into the night or anything.
Reed gave Spence a long look. “You’re concerned about her.”
“She is a friend.”
“Do I know this friend?”
Spence managed to give his brother a stony-faced shake of the head. Reed was good at catching him when he pushed the truth, but he seemed to accept this silent lie.
“Did you meet up with your friend on the road?”
Which would explain the timing, but Spence could only manage so many white lies before Reed realized he wasn’t getting the truth. Again, it was none of his brother’s business, but Spence was used to Reed wearing him down. For his own good, his brother had said more than once, and actually, he’d been right about that a time or two.
“I guess the main thing is that I said no. I doubt she’ll ask again, so it’s a done deal.”
“But you keep thinking about it?”
“It shocked the hell out of me,” he said. Made him look at Hayley in a new way. Made it harder for him to feel like he knew all he needed to know about the woman.
It made him curious.
That, on top of the obvious attraction he had for her, would create one tangled-up situation if he allowed it to go forward. And how would his parents feel if they discovered they had a grandchild next door that they knew nothing about? There was no way he would do that to them. They doted on Lex, and Spence was well aware that his parents would love to have more grandkids.
“It is a shocker,” Reed agreed.
Spence expected a joke at his expense to follow, but instead his brother set the round in the splitter and then moved the handle to start the wedge moving forward. The wood squeaked as it cleaved into two sections.
“All I can say is that I think you’re doing the right thing.” He set one of the halves on the bed to split again. “I wouldn’t have known that before Lex. But I know it now.”
“I respect your insight,” Spence said. “And, moving on. When’s the wedding?” The surest way he knew of to distract his brother from this unsettling subject.
“We haven’t set a date. Trenna’s upset about all the shit her dad’s stirring up. I don’t think she wants to plan a wedding until some of it gets settled.”
“Do you see it getting settled?”
“Not until Hunt gets his way. According to our inside intel, Hunt wasn’t all that surprised that we managed to lease water. He’d made his statement, though, and wants us to think he’s going to continue chipping away until we get tired and give him right-of-way.”
“Has Dad considered charging him way more than the right-of-way is worth?”
“Dad is not exactly Mr. Compromise.”
“Not unless Mom has a word.”
Reed smiled a little. Audrey Miller had tamed the beast before becoming Mrs. Beast. She was a partner, and also the voice of sanity, and one of the reasons that the ranch was so successful.
“Is Henry really going to retire?” Spence finished the stack and stretched his back as the splitter ripped through another round.
“He said that he’ll retire at the end of June.”
“He said he was retiring at the end of May too. Not that I mind. He can keep working forever, but I came home to help because, well, Henry was retiring.”
“Yeah.” Reed gave his brother a commiserative look. “Maybe retirement is like parenthood—you don’t know what it’s like until you’re facing it.”
Spence gave a considering nod. “You might be onto something. And, to be honest, I’m glad Henry is still working. Hayley Parker just lost another day hand, so I’m going to help her out until she hires someone.”
Reed smiled a little. “Henry will be glad to hear that. Less crowded that way.”
Spence tossed a twig at his brother and hit him square between the eyes.
“Is this what kind of day this is going to be?” Reed growled.
Spence put his hands up, laughing, glad that the baby daddy subject was now buried. “Nope. I’m all about peace, brother.”
“Yeah. Keep it up and I’ll show you peace.” But Reed was smiling as he set the next round on the splitter bed.
*
It was crazy, but other than her heart giving a jump when Spence pulled into the ranch, Hayley felt remarkably serene. The worst had happened—she’d asked, and he said no—but he was back to help her.
“Hey,” she said when he got out of the truck.
“Hey, back.” He met her gaze, and it was obvious that he wanted to get the inevitable awkwardness over and done with. “I brought you a donut.”
Hayley gave him a suspicious look. A donut? The way to her heart?
Spence had no way of knowing that, but she suspected the donut was intended to smooth troubled waters.
“Did you go to Marietta?” she asked.
“Lex is visiting from Bozeman, and this is her new thing. Fried donuts. She got up early and made them for breakfast.” He handed over the bag, and Hayley peeked inside. An old-fashioned buttermilk donut glistening with glaze filled the bottom of the bag.
“Big one.”
Spence laughed. “Uh-huh. You can have it for lunch and dinner.”
“I think I’ll have it now.” She pulled the donut from the bag and broke it in two, handing half to Spence, who shook his head.
“I had mine before I left.”
“Have half. I’ll work it off you.”
There was something intimate in the way his gaze connected with hers as he took the half donut from her fingers, as if he’d finally figured some things out about her and was considering what to do with the information.
She hoped that wasn’t true. She didn’t want to be figured out or thought about or anything like that. But, silly her, she’d set things up to be thought about a lot with her special request.
Guess you got to live with it.
She held Spence’s gaze as she bit into the donut, which had the perfect amount of crisp on the outside and moist deliciousness on the inside.
“Wow.”
“I know. Lex is developing skills. While we’re on the topic of my niece, would you like to come to her birthday barbecue next Sunday?”
“I . . . uh . . .”
“I understand if you don’t.”
“Why wouldn’t I want to come?”
He gave her a look that said he knew exactly why she might not want to come. “We’re good, right?”
“Yes.” She pulled a sharp breath in through her nose. “Or rather, we will be, after a day working on the fence. Which leads to my next question. This is a business arrangement, right?”
He lifted an eyebrow in a way that made her wonder if he thought she was referring to getting pregnant. He wasn’t, of course, because that matter was settled, which meant that she was being overly sensitive, which had to stop.
“I’m paying you to make the pipe corral. That’s settled. I’m also paying you to work on the ranch. Correct?”
His eyes said no. His lips played the game. “Yes.”
She gave a nod. “I have most everything we need loaded. Chainsaw, bar, handsaw, all the fencing stuff.”
“Are you driving?”
“As soon as I finish the donut.”
“I’ll drive. You eat.”
“Agreed.”
Five minutes later, Hayley had opened and shut the last gate before they began traveling down a Forest Service logging road with led to the pasture where Hayley’s cattle would graze during the month of July.
“I never answered you about Lex’s party,” Hayley said after getting back into the truck. She still had almost half a donut left, but she closed the bag by rolling down the top. Enough. She wasn’t eating for two yet. “I’d like to go.”
Spence didn’t look at her, but the corner of his mouth turned up. “Good.”
He seemed satisfied and she figured it was because they were edging back to solid ground. She’d have to make sure she didn’t put them back on shaky ground until after she hired a permanent ranch hand, but she couldn’t think of anything she could do that would shake things up the way the sperm donor request had, so she could probably relax in that regard.
“I’m just going to say that I’m embarrassed about yesterday.” The candid statement made her feel better. Part of her initial work to overcome her shyness had been to articulate, even when it was difficult. Yesterday that strategy had done her no favors. Today she hoped it would. She would grab the proverbial bull by the horns.
“Don’t be.” He glanced her way, and his expression was surprisingly gentle. “From here on out, the situation is what we make it. Awkward, or congenial.”
Stop that , she growled at her hormones, who began perking up at the gentle look. You got your answer.
Not to the question we’re thinking about , her hormones whispered back.
Right.
Hayley let out a breath.
“You okay?” Spence asked.
“I was considering what you just said.” The situation was what they made of it. Spence was here, on the ranch, proving that he’d moved on. She would do the same. “I agree.”
Their gazes held before Spence turned his attention back to the road winding through the pines. “This road leads to a nice fishing lake. Minnow Lake. Have you ever been?”
“I’m not a fisherman, but yes, I’ve been to the lake. My friend Bella and I camped there once.”
“I’m guessing from your tone that it didn’t go well?” He had to admit to having a hard time picturing Bella Knight camping.
“It was like a cartoon,” she said with a laugh. “If it could go wrong, it did. No cell service, of course, so we couldn’t call anyone after the tent blew away.”
Spence shot her an impressed look. “You lost your tent?”
“We didn’t stake it down. We didn’t think we needed to. So the tent blew away when we got out to check the horses during the storm.” Now she gave him a look. “We rode in, packing our gear. Bella had never been horse camping, and I wanted to give her the full experience.”
“And you did.”
Hayley grinned at the memory. “Boy howdy,” she said softly. “The blowing tent spooked the horses, but they didn’t come untied, which was one of the only things that went right.”
“You can get hypothermia on a cold, wet night.”
“Which was why we headed home in the dark, leading the horses. We had rain ponchos. When we took them off after finally getting home well after midnight, they were steaming.”
“You guys were in high school,” he guessed.
“Yes. Junior year.”
“You went horse camping, lost a tent, walked miles through a storm at night to get home.”
“Yes.”
He frowned her way. “And then went to school and acted like, I don’t know, a couple of girls whose idea of roughing it was having to sit in a folding chair in the library instead of one of the comfy ones.”
“There was more to both of us than met the eye in high school.”
“I have firsthand knowledge of that. So here’s what I don’t get. You could take control of a situation, talk a cop out of a ticket, then drive hell-bent for election as soon as he was out of sight, but walked the halls of the school with your eyes cast down.”
“Go figure,” she said lightly. “Storms. Locked sheds. Snakes. Cops. None of that bothered me. A popular kid? Froze me up.”
“Why?”
She considered. “I think,” she said slowly, “you have to experience shyness to understand, and I don’t think you will understand.”
He smiled at the windshield. “No. I can’t claim shyness as one of my attributes.”
“That was one reason I asked you to be... to donate.”
There. Charging at the issue head-on. If Spence was surprised, he didn’t show it, but she sensed that he was.
“There’s some research indicating that shyness might be genetic, and I thought I’d give my kid a fighting chance.”
“Where did you inherit your shyness from?”
“Well, not my mom, obviously. I think my dad was shy. He never went out much. Seemed to like staying on the ranch, minding his own business.” She smiled a little. “He was a really good dad.”
“I liked him,” Spence said. “I’ve never met your mom.”
Hayley rolled her eyes. “She’s... impressive. Looks ten years younger than she is, but it’s all genetics. She’s barely had any work done.”
“She grew up in Marietta?”
“Barely. She left at sixteen to try modeling. She ended up back in Montana at nineteen, working at a big resort in Big Sky. She met my dad there. He was a wrangler during the summers. My grandpa was running the family ranch, and Dad was... let’s see, how did he put it? He was discovering why he would be happy holed up on the Lone Tree for the rest of his life. And he was. After Mom, of course.”
Spence pulled to a stop in front of a gate with a sign that stated, “Private Property, Stay on Road.” The sign below it said, “Close Gate.”
So she did.
“We’re not staying on the road,” she said, pointing to a barely visible track that led over a hill. “Follow that.”
Spence touched his finger to his hat. “Yes, ma’am.”