Lynne Marshall - Father For Her Newborn Baby

She’d never felt more helpless in her life either and vowed that would never happen again. Fortunately, he’d stopped at roughing her up, hadn’t hit her or anything, just manhandled her to frighten her for messing with his plans. He’d given her one last shake and left. So much for true love. And so much for never feeling helpless again. It seemed since Flora had been born, helpless had become her middle name.

She reminded herself she’d come to Wyoming to change things. She wasn’t helpless. She had a job. “Her dad and I couldn’t work things out. He took off. I stayed pregnant.”

“How’d you manage to finish med school with a newborn?”

“Called in a lot of favors.” It wasn’t that she wanted to be abrupt, but, really, they didn’t have all night for her to explain that one. Maybe the guy deserved a bit more than her glib answer, though. “When you’re raised in foster care you learn to be resourceful. I’d helped a lot of students through the toughest modules, did one-on-one study sessions with a girl who probably would have failed the boards otherwise. You know, that kind of thing. They owed me.”

“Wait a second, back up.” He leaned forward. “You were raised in foster care?”

“After my grandmother died, yes.” So she wasn’t exactly being forthcoming. It wasn’t that she wanted to be secretive; she was just saving him the sob story. Did Cole really need to hear all of it?

“And what happened to your mother?”

“She went back to being a meth head after I was born.”

He shook his head and, since her eyes had adjusted to the dark, she could make out his sympathetic expression, brows pushed together, lips tight. Yeah, she’d had a hard life, he got it, no need to pound home the point. “And you rose above all of that and made it into medical school. That’s amazing.”

She pushed her head back onto the soft cushion of the high-backed chair, suddenly needing that extra comfort. Put that way, yeah, maybe she was amazing. “The only thing I had control of in my childhood was my school grades. I guess you could say it paid off. If you don’t count the fact that I wasn’t chosen for a single residency program I applied for.” She didn’t want to sound sorry for herself, but the discouraged sigh had already left her lips.

“Didn’t anyone counsel you on casting your net wide? From what I was told you only applied to the five most prestigious hospitals in the nation. No offense, but what were you thinking?”

“That I should reach for the stars.” She needed to shut him down, be blunt, because she’d gone over her blunder a million times already and it always came back to the same conclusion—there was nothing she could do about that now. And that was why she’d come to Wyoming, to make up for it. To start over. To give her baby a good start in life.

Her little scientific experiment had worked. She’d formed her hypothesis, tested it, and analyzing her data—sitting in silence, the dim light from the hallway making his shadow large and looming, mouth firmly shut—he wouldn’t and didn’t know what to do with the truth. Yep, she’d been right.

“So how are we going to work this out?” Cole’s deep voice cut through her thoughts, his rugged yet handsome face dappled in moonlight and shadows.

“You mean my working for you? Or my living here with a colicky baby?”

He nodded, his laser gaze, noticeable even in the dim light, nearly making her squirm. “Part A.”

Under the sweater, she shifted Flora to the other breast and waited until she latched on. “Well, while you were at the hospital I had a long talk with Gretchen. She seems to have an unfulfilled grandmotherly gene. She said she’d be happy to take care of Flora when I work.”

“Maybe you should just work part-time at first.”

She wanted to yell, Don’t you get it? I’m broke. I need the money! But she swallowed another sip of tea instead. “But you hired me to work full-time. I want to keep my side of the bargain.”

He went quiet again and studied his expensive brand-name shoes. The man oozed wealth. And good looks. “I’m glad to pay you the amount Trevor agreed on, but maybe at first you can come in half days or something.”

“You do realize that women only get six weeks’ maternity leave in the US and return to work all the time, right? I’m that single mother in med school who never missed an overnight shift, and my only support system was other med students. I graduated the same day as everyone else with my baby swaddled in a sling across my chest. People do what they’ve got to do, you know? Gretchen said she’s happy to help. Let me do what you hired me for, okay?”

Take that!

“That’s commendable. I’ll give you that.” He remained thoughtful, probably analyzing her plea, seeing right through her, figuring out how desperate she was. “I suspect Dad will be in the hospital at least a week, and then be sent to rehab after that. Once he comes home, though, Gretchen will have her hands full caring for him.”

“You’ve got a point, but by then I can find other child-care arrangements.” Keep positive even against the odds. You’ve got to .

He thought for a moment or two. “Reasonable enough.” Whew! He put down his teacup and slapped his big palms on his thighs. “Well, I’ll leave you and Flora to your feeding. It’s been a long day.”

She nodded. “I can hardly keep my eyes open.”

Before he left the room, she studied his huge silhouette in the doorway, broad shoulders, long torso, big in every way, a man’s man. Fine-looking man. Yet he’d been gentle with Flora. Was it totally wrong to find your new employer sexy? Yet she couldn’t deny she did.

“May I ask you a question?” It had been bothering her since she’d noticed the identical scars on his forehead when she’d first met him, and to be honest she needed something to get her mind off how attracted she was to him.

He turned. The epitome of patience… and gentleman cowboy… sexy.

“Did you have a broken neck?”

The hallway light cut across his profile. He scrunched up his face, obviously surprised by her comment. “Another astute observation, Dr. Silva. I take it my halo-brace scars tipped you off?”

She nodded, trying not to look smug, though definitely feeling it.

“When I was fifteen I was riding a bucking bronco, got bucked off and fractured C1-C2. I was fortunate not to have a spinal-cord injury, as you can obviously tell.” He held out his arms, palms up, looking over his own body.

“No need for fusion?”

“Three months wearing that brace did the trick. It also changed my life goal of becoming a rodeo star.” He smiled and deep vertical grooves cut through his cheeks. Yeah, that was sexy, too.

But his confession made her laugh outright. “A rodeo star?”

“You’re looking at Cattleman Bluff’s former junior rodeo bucking-bronco champion.” He said the mouthful with an amused twinkle in his eyes, as if the title might have carried some clout around here at one time.

But rodeo stars were as foreign as extraterrestrials to a girl from Boston. “I’d say I was impressed, if I had a clue what that meant.” If this was her idea of flirting, she wasn’t doing a very good job.

His closed-lip smile widened slowly, finally revealing a fine line of teeth, and the effect, combined with the lingering glint in his eyes, sent a shiver through her. Oh, man, this could be bad. Dr. Montgomery is gorgeous .

She swallowed. “I’m sure you were a regular star around these parts.” She tried out her version of cowboy talk, her accent no doubt falling far short of the mark. These pahts . Come to think of it, she could imagine him in dungarees and a torso-hugging cowboy shirt. And what she’d give to see the man wearing a cowboy hat.