Midnight Sons Volume 2 (24 page)

“Well, you’d better decide soon because he’ll only be in Oakland one night. He’s scheduled to go to—” Karen heard a rustle of papers “—Portland, Seattle and then home.”

“I’m not making any promises,” Karen said, but she knew Lanni was right. Matt deserved to learn that he’d be a father in seven months. She just didn’t know how he’d react to the news.

Matt saw Karen the moment she slipped into the back row of the meeting room. Even from this distance, the first thing he noticed was how pale she looked. He sat on the stage with a number of other lodge operators, all working hard to sell their tour packages. Luckily he’d already given his presentation, so the pressure was off and he could study his ex-wife.

She’d lost weight, and he wondered if that was intentional. If so, she was too thin, but she wouldn’t appreciate hearing that, especially from him.

The temptation to walk off the stage and confront her then and there was almost overwhelming. He might have done it if not for their last conversation.

Well, this time, she could come to him. He was tired of having his teeth shoved down his throat whenever he attempted to reason with her.

Then again, maybe she didn’t intend to seek him out. Maybe she was only here to satisfy her curiosity. Or because she’d promised Lanni. Fine, so be it, he decided. With effort he managed to keep his eyes resolutely trained on the current speaker. But again and again, his gaze drifted back to her….

The moderator walked to the microphone. “Are there any questions?”

A hand went up in the middle of the room. “I have one for Mr. Caldwell.”

Matt stood.

“Do you have any response to the animal-rights people who question using dogs to pull sleds?”

Matt had gotten the same question in almost every city. “First, I want to assure you that the dogs are loved and cared for the way most people look after their own children. As for the rigors of life on the trail, the huskies are thoroughly happy. Running was what they were born to do, and they love it.
Their comfort range is amazing. Until the weather drops to around thirty below, many sled dogs prefer to sleep outside rather than in a kennel.”

“Are the dogs dangerous?” someone called out.

“No,” Matt said, smiling. “Mostly they’re playful and fun. At rest stops along the winter trails, they cool down by rolling in the snow. For the first mile of a run, they’re excited and excitable, but even an inexperienced musher can learn to manage them. After the first day or so, everyone will come to know the dogs by name and personality.”

Since he offered something new and interesting, Matt fielded the majority of the questions. As with his audiences in other cities, he felt he’d accomplished his purpose. The travel agents certainly seemed enthusiastic. But even as he was speaking, his gaze was drawn back to Karen. Pride be damned. He wasn’t letting her off the hook so easily. If she wanted to walk out, fine, but he made sure she knew he’d seen her.

Following the question-and-answer session, the applause was vigorous. Matt gathered his notes, glancing up only once to see if he could find Karen. His heart fell when he realized she was nowhere in sight.

Then, when he was convinced she’d run away like a frightened rabbit, he turned around and found her standing no more than a foot away.

At close range, she looked paler than she had from the other end of the room. His concern was immediate.

“Karen, have you been ill?”

“No. Well, you wouldn’t call it ill.”

The woman spoke in riddles.

“Matt, do you have time for a drink?”

She was actually inviting him. That was progress. He frowned at his watch, wanting her to sweat it out. “I suppose.” He tried to make it sound as if he was squeezing her in between appointments.

Carrying his briefcase, he led the way to the hotel’s cocktail lounge and ordered two glasses of white wine.

“No, just one glass,” Karen said to the waitress. “I’ll have an herbal tea. Any kind.”

Matt looked at her in astonishment. “Tea? I thought you liked wine.”

“I’m avoiding alcohol,” she explained, her eyes averted.

He wondered why, but he wasn’t going to ask. She was the one with the agenda here, and frankly he was more than a little curious about what she wanted to say.

“I was impressed with your answers to the questions,” she began. “I’d hoped to be here for your presentation, but…I wasn’t feeling well earlier,” she said, sounding shaky and uncertain. She rallied and continued. “Lanni mailed me one of your brochures. They look terrific.”

“Thanks.” He wasn’t going to make this easy for her. Not after the grief she’d given him, the pain she’d caused.

“She told me you’ve been getting reservations ever since you went on tour.”

“So I understand.”

Their drinks arrived and Matt signed the bill with his room number. He noticed that when Karen sipped her tea, her hand trembled. Now he was beginning to get worried.

“Karen, what did you mean earlier about being sick?”

“I’m not sick.”

“Oh, yeah, I can tell. How much weight have you lost?” He hadn’t intended to be sarcastic, but he hated cat-and-mouse games. If she had something to say, he wished she’d just spit it out.

He waited for her answer, determined not to speak again until she’d said something relevant; she remained silent. His resolve lasted all of one minute.

“How’s the career coming?” he asked, hoping she noticed his choice of words. She’d worked for the engineering firm for
three years. She was an employer’s dream—conscientious, organized, efficient. He hadn’t been surprised that when her boss was promoted he’d made her his executive assistant and moved her to California with him.

“Great.”

Somehow Matt didn’t believe her.

“Mr. Sullivan giving you problems?” he asked. In some ways, the older man was more like a father to Karen. Matt couldn’t imagine Sullivan creating difficulties for her.

“Actually he’s been very understanding about the time I’ve missed from work.”

“Missed work?” That didn’t sound like Karen, either. In the four years of their marriage, he couldn’t recall her taking a single day of sick leave.

“I’ve been having some trouble…mostly in the mornings.” She leveled her gaze at him, as though she expected him to make some logical deduction from that bit of information.

“Ah, you’ve got PMS,” he said, attempting a small joke.

From the disapproving scowl she sent him, he gathered she didn’t find it humorous. “Matt, you can really be obtuse.”

“Me? Listen, Karen, you’re the one who wouldn’t allow me to finish our last conversation. As far as I’m concerned, if you’ve got something to say, just say it, because I have a flight to catch in the morning.”

Lifting her chin to a dignified angle, she reached for her purse and stood. “You’re absolutely right,” she said in a clear voice. “I’ve been beating around the bush.” Her purse strap slipped off her shoulder and she quickly secured it. “I don’t have a perpetual case of PMS, Matt, as amusing as you appear to find that. The reason I’ve lost weight can be attributed to something else. I have what’s known as morning sickness. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll leave you to mull that one over.” She turned abruptly and walked out of the lounge.

“Morning sickness,” Matt repeated, and downed the last of his wine in one swallow. The words echoed in his brain and his gaze flew to her retreating figure. He bolted upright. “You’re pregnant?”

Karen turned the corner and was gone.

“She’s pregnant,” Matt shouted to the cocktail waitress. Then, before he completely lost Karen, he raced to the lobby in time to see her walking out the front doors.

“Karen, wait!”

Either she didn’t hear him or she was determined to ignore him. It was just like her to drop that kind of news and then leave him to deal with the repercussions on his own.

He didn’t catch up with her until she’d reached her car.

“What do you mean you’re pregnant?” he demanded. “How did that happen?”

She whirled around and glared at him.

“Weren’t you on the pill?”

“Why should I be?” she asked. “We were divorced, remember?”

As if he’d forgotten!

“Don’t you
dare
suggest birth control is entirely up to the woman,” she said from between gritted teeth.

Matt was having trouble taking all this in. “But…how?”

“Well,” she muttered sarcastically, “here’s what I remember from biology class. The woman provides the egg and the man supplies the sperm.”

“I know all that!” he snapped. “What I’m talking about is us. We’re both responsible adults. I can’t believe we didn’t consider the possibility of your getting pregnant.” He leaned against the side of her car, his legs like gelatin.

“It might’ve helped if you’d broken the news a bit more gently,” he said.

“It would help if you weren’t looking for someone to blame.”

“That’s not true,” he flared. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re going to need financial assistance.” Since his budget was tight, money was the first thing that came to mind.

Karen made a growling sound, and he looked up to find her glaring at him again, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “You’re impossible!” she shouted.

“What did I say now?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head. “I’ve fulfilled my obligation. I told you about the baby. I do apologize for any inconvenience this might cause you.” Sarcasm dripped from every word. “Perhaps the best alternative is to have my attorney talk to your attorney. Goodbye, Matt.”

With that, she unlocked her car door and climbed in.

“You can’t leave!” he shouted as she started the car. “We have to talk.” But she ignored him as if he hadn’t even spoken. “Karen, would you listen to me?”

She twisted around to look over her shoulder before shoving the car into Reverse. Then she backed out of the space and drove off, leaving him standing in the middle of the parking lot, seething with frustration.

Karen barely slept that night. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected from Matt, but not the sarcastic arrogance he’d dished up and served her while they were in the cocktail lounge. He’d seemed to…to enjoy her discomfort.

When she’d finally garnered enough courage to tell him about the pregnancy, he’d reacted as if she’d plotted against him. As if it was important to somehow assign blame for the unexpected pregnancy.

What bothered her most, Karen decided sometime in the wee hours of the morning, was the fact that his reaction was
completely contrary to the romantic picture she’d painted in her mind. For weeks she’d envisioned telling Matt about their baby and watching his eyes go soft as he regarded her with tenderness and love.

After being married to Matt for four years, she should’ve known better. The man didn’t possess a romantic bone in his body. Furthermore, why should he be excited and pleased because she was pregnant?
He’d
never wanted a baby.

He didn’t want a child now, any more than he had when they were married. A baby was an inconvenience. A baby got in the way of his plans.

She’d listened to his arguments about financial security often enough to know exactly what he’d been thinking. If Matthew Caldwell lived to be a hundred, he’d never be financially secure—simply because he’d never hold a job long enough to make it possible.

She was better off without him. On a conscious level she knew that, but on an emotional one, it hurt. It
really
hurt. If there was ever a time in her life she needed coddling and comfort, it was now.

Although the doctor assured her the morning sickness would lessen, she hadn’t seen any evidence of it. The next morning, like every other morning for weeks, she rose, managed to down a breakfast of tea and soda crackers, then promptly lost it. Spending most of the night agonizing about Matt hadn’t helped her physical condition.

By nine she was stretched out on the sofa with a blanket. She’d placed a bucket on the floor beside her because of the queasiness in her stomach.

The doorbell chimed, but she was in no mood for company and ignored it.

“Damn it, Karen! Open the door.”

Matt.

“Leave me alone,” she shouted, draining what little energy she had left.

Disregarding her demand, Matt opened the door himself and stepped into her small apartment. She never had learned to keep her door locked. Unfortunately the habit had followed her to California.

Matt looked as pale as she had the night before. He wore the same clothes he’d had on then. If she was guessing, she’d say he hadn’t been to bed.

He lowered himself into the chair across from her, and glanced at the bucket.

“No one told me getting pregnant was like suffering the worst case of flu known to womankind,” she muttered. She sipped flat soda pop through a straw.

“Is it always like this?”

“Every morning for the past four weeks. And the occasional evening.”

He frowned, and although he didn’t say anything, his expression was apologetic. “That’s the reason you’ve missed so much work?”