Expecting His Child

Everything inside her balked. “Now I know you’re insane. Have you forgotten that my family home borders your property? Do you think my brothers and your brothers are going to have a party over this? I don’t think so. Plus, there is the Logan curse. Women bearing the Logan name have shown an annoying tendency to kick the bucket when they fall in love and get married. I’ll admit I never thought the curse applied to me, but on the off chance that it does, I have a pretty powerful reason to stay alive and healthy. My baby.”

Noah stood there silently. He looked as if he was reining himself in, processing every word she’d said. Planning.

Martina felt a sinking sensation, but kept her back ramrod straight. She was no sissy, she told herself. She could handle Noah Coltrane.

“We’ll talk again,” he said, pulling out a pen and business card and scratching some numbers on the back of it. “If you need anything, anything at all, call me. Cell number’s on the back.” He met her gaze again. “You said your family curse means a Logan woman will die when she marries. You forget. When you marry me, you won’t be a Logan woman. You’ll be a Coltrane.”

“When cows do algebra,” she fumed as she watched Noah walk out her door. “I’ll be a Coltrane when Texans stop arguing over water rights, when your brothers and my brothers give each other big hugs, which will be never,” she continued, even though she was only talking to the air that Noah had breathed and the space he had invaded. His presence was still disturbing even though he was gone. “I’ll be a Coltrane when the stars fall over West Texas.”

Noah had so much adrenaline pumping through his veins that he could easily have snapped the steering wheel of his Tahoe in half. He had impregnated the most unreasonable, stubborn woman in Texas, and he had a feeling it was going to take everything he had to corral her and bring her and the baby to the Coltrane ranch where they belonged.

A part of him wondered if the Indian mystic in him had sensed something important had happened to Martina. He wondered if that was what had kept him awake nights. Although Noah knew he was the most modern of the Coltranes, he also suspected the trace of Indian blood in his veins gave him instincts not so easily explained.

He sighed in disgust. It would be nice if those Indian instincts could provide something more useful than a sleepless night, something like an easy way to win Martina over.

To persuade her, he was going to have to see this from her point of view. Noah knew he was more open-minded than his brothers, but he wasn’t sure he could think like a woman, God help him. Especially when every drop of primitive protectiveness and possessiveness raged to the surface when he remembered that Martina was carrying his child.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled into the dusty drive to the main ranch house. On a normal day, he felt a sense of well-being every time he came home. Zachary Tremont, former ranch foreman, had always told Noah that if he grew still and quiet, he would hear the voice of welcome when he was in the right place. Zachary was probably the reason none of the Coltrane boys had ended up in prison. Their father, Joe, had been a drunk, a mean one at that, and their mother, a strict churchgoer, had died of cancer. The union hadn’t exactly produced a pleasant home environment.

One good thing Joe had done just before he passed away, though, was to hire Zachary. During his time at the Coltrane ranch, Zachary had taught Noah and his brothers the discipline of fencing. More importantly, he had taught each of the boys about honor and the importance of finding and honoring his individual purpose.

Noah missed Zachary and would have traded his most valuable antique sword for a chance to talk to the man now. But Zachary had left when Noah’s brother Adam grew old enough to manage the ranch, insisting it was time for him to move on.

Noah glanced at the recently remodeled and expanded ranch house and waited for the feeling of welcome. On a normal day, he felt the warmth of it curl in his stomach and flow through his blood.

This, however, was not a normal day. His brothers were not going to have a party over his news. A riot was more likely.

He waited until everyone had eaten dinner. Adam was downing a third beer, Jonathan was leaning back with his eyes closed, and Gideon was lighting a cigar.

“We need to make plans for an addition,” Noah said.

Adam glanced at him quizzically. “Another one? We’ve already built bunkhouses for the fencing camps and roundup weekends you want to run.”

“We can wait. I don’t want anyone touching the house,” Gideon said. “I’m sick of falling over contractors. I want to smoke cigars in peace.”

“Then take them outside,” Jonathan muttered, his eyes still closed. He wasn’t fond of Gideon’s trendy habit.

“It’s not a building,” Noah said. “It’s a baby.”

Complete silence reigned. Jonathan’s eyes popped open. Adam and Gideon stared at Noah.

“Whose baby?” Adam asked in a low voice.

“Mine,” Noah said, and called to the cook. “Patch, you mind bringing in that good bottle of whiskey and three shot glasses?”

Jonathan, the brother to whom Noah felt closest, had the most even temperament and was by far the most intuitive. “You’re not drinking?”

“Not yet,” Noah said, and poured the whiskey.

“Congratulations,” Gideon said with a sly grin and swallowed his shot. “Does this baby come with a woman?”

“Yeah,” Noah said. “Martina Logan.”

Jonathan dropped his shot glass. Adam and Gideon stared at Noah in disbelief.

“You better be joking,” Adam said.

“I’m not. She’s carrying my baby. We met in Chicago. She’s not like her brothers,” Noah said, then remembered her scorching refusal to his proposal this morning. “In some ways, she’s worse,” he said with a wry laugh. “But I’m going to marry her, bring her here to live, and we’re going to raise the baby here.”

Adam and Gideon stood. “You’ve gone way too far this time,” Adam said. “The Coltranes have nothing to do with the Logans. We don’t date ’em. We don’t marry ’em. We don’t get ’em pregnant. Hell, we don’t speak to ’em.”

“Too late,” Noah said.

Swearing, Gideon grabbed Noah by the shirt collar. “It’s not too late. Tell her to get rid—”

Instinct raged through him, and Noah pushed his brother away. “I don’t want to ever hear that from you or any of you again.”

Adam shook his head. “You’ve gone too far,” he said. “I’m cutting you out of the ranch. Just leave and don’t come back.”

Noah glanced at Jonathan and read the distress and disappointment on his face. His gut wrenched at the thought of leaving. “Okay. I guess that means you don’t need the money I make for the ranch by trading cattle futures and leasing the hunting rights.”

Adam cursed under his breath. “You know that money has bailed us out during a bad year.” He shook his head again. “Now how could you make such a huge mistake?”

“I dislike the Logans as much as you do, but I’ve been dealt a new hand of cards, and I have to do what’s right. We’ve all spent most of our lives living down the bad decisions our father, or his father, or his father made. I’m not gonna keep making bad decisions. This baby’s no mistake.”

Adam and Gideon glared at him in hostile silence.

Jonathan sighed and broke the angry, tense silence. “I wonder what Zachary would say right now,” he mused in a calm voice that was like cool water on flames.

Noah immediately saw the change in his brothers’ faces. Adam exhaled and viewed him with grudging acceptance.

Gideon looked away, clearly ashamed. “Sorry I said that about getting rid…” He broke off. “Sorry,” he said. True to form, he was quick to anger, but usually quick to apologize. “I’m going for a walk.”

“I’m going to bed,” Adam said.

Noah stood in the dining room with only Jonathan. Jonathan reached for the bottle of whisky, poured a shot into his glass and held it out for Noah to take. “I like a lot of your ideas and innovations,” he said. “When Adam balked, I could see you were going to do good things. I always envied how you could think outside the box. But I gotta tell you—this isn’t outside the box. It’s not outside the county or the state. It’s outside the universe. So what was it? Temporary insanity?”

Noah swallowed the liquor, feeling the fire all the way down his throat and chest into his stomach. “Maybe,” he said, and met Jonathan’s gaze. “It felt right.”

Jonathan shook his head in disbelief. “How could it possibly?”

“I’m not sure I can explain it. The same way it feels right for you to train horses. Why aren’t you hollering or taking a swing at me?”

Jonathan covered a faint grin with his hand. “Based on my limited experience with the Logans, I’m just guessing that Martina Logan is gonna torture you more than I ever could.”

Noah gave a wry chuckle. “Maybe.”

“How does she feel about getting married?”