Henry had recognized there would never be a future with her and certainly not a marriage.
“You don’t have to worry about that,” he said to his mother. Once again he leaned back in his chair and cast his gaze out the window.
“I never really thought about having kids,” he said softly. “But now that they exist I want them here with me. I want them to grow up here on the ranch and learn the family business. I want to teach them like Dad taught me.”
“Aren’t you forgetting one little thing? Melissa might not want to move here. She might have a perfectly fine life, perhaps with a boyfriend or family of her own.”
Henry frowned thoughtfully. “I find that hard to believe. I mean, according to her story she took off from her home to meet some cyber friend and spend Christmas with her. If Melissa has family or a boyfriend, why didn’t she stay home to spend Christmas with them?”
“I’m sure I don’t know. You know her better than I do. But, Henry, you have to remember that just because you want something doesn’t mean you can have it. You’re talking about a woman here, not a business deal.”
Mary stood. “All I know is that I intend to enjoy each and every minute of having those babies in this house. And now I’m going to go make a shopping list. There’s only two shopping days left before Christmas and suddenly I’m in the mood to shop.”
She practically floated out of the study. Henry hadn’t seen his mother this happy since his father had been alive.
Even though he’d had the entire night to process the fact that he was now a father, he still wasn’t sure how this was all going to work. The first thing he would have to do was get to know Melissa, find out if she’d come here looking for easy street or if the story she’d told him was true.
But before he could do that he had some phone calls to make. He’d promised Melissa a Christmas to remember and Henry never broke a promise.
His mother was wrong about one thing—this was a business deal. Melissa had what Henry wanted and all Henry had to figure out was what price he’d have to pay to get it.
Chapter 3
Melissa stood at the window and watched as a car pulled up out front and Mary got into the car’s passenger side. When the vehicle pulled away Melissa wondered if she should be doing the same thing—driving out the main gates and heading for home.
Behind her in the playpen the two boys had just fallen asleep. They usually napped for about an hour in the morning and the same amount of time in the afternoon.
Restless energy coursed through Melissa and she moved to the window on the opposite side of the room to gaze out at the pastures, corrals and outbuildings on the land. In the distance she could see what appeared to be a carriage house.
The dusting of snow that had fallen the evening before had melted beneath the warmth of the sunshine. It was a beautiful day, cold but clear.
A whisper of noise whirled her around and she saw Henry standing just outside the room in the hallway. He motioned to her and she left the room. “I thought maybe while the boys napped you might want to have a cup of coffee with me. I’d like to get to know you, Melissa.”
Once again nervous energy fluttered in her chest. Of course he wanted to know her better. She was the mother of his children. “And I’d like to get to know you better,” she agreed. “Coffee sounds wonderful.”
She checked on the boys to make sure they were still asleep, then followed him down the staircase to the dining room where Etta, the Randolf cook, carried in a tray laden with two cups of coffee, cream and sugar and two small plates with slices of cinnamon coffee cake.
Henry introduced the older woman to Melissa. “Etta has been keeping the Randolf family well fed for the past twenty years.”
“And it’s been a pleasure,” Etta replied. Then with a friendly smile at Melissa she turned and left the dining room.
Melissa pulled a coffee cup before her and wrapped her fingers around it. As Henry watched her she felt ill at ease and wasn’t sure what to say, where to begin.
“This is awkward, isn’t it?” he finally said.
She flashed him a grateful smile. At least he felt it, too. “Terribly awkward,” she agreed. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but it’s important to me that you know that I don’t just fall into bed with strangers I meet.”
She couldn’t hold his gaze and instead looked down at her coffee as she continued. “That morning the man I’d been dating for two years, the man I thought I was going to marry, let me know that he had found a new girlfriend, somebody sexier than me.” She felt her cheeks warm with her confession. “That night I just … It all went more than a little crazy.”
He laughed, a low chuckle that was both pleasant and surprising. She looked up at him sharply, wondering if he were laughing at her.
“It seems fate had a hand in our meeting that night. I was coming home after ending a relationship with a woman I’d been dating for over a year. Maybe we were both a little reckless that night.”
“But that’s not who I am,” she replied. “I’m usually not reckless.”
He took a sip of his coffee, eyeing her over the rim of his cup. “And yet you took off with an address to an unknown place given to you by a woman you’ve never met before.”
“A calculated risk,” she replied. “If I didn’t like the looks of the place when I arrived, I wasn’t going to stop.” She tugged on a strand of her hair in frustration. “Okay, it wasn’t the brightest thing in the world to do,” she conceded.
She wasn’t about to tell him that it was an aching loneliness that had driven her to meet MysteryMom. Although she loved her boys more than anything else on the face of the earth, she’d been hungry for adult conversation. The idea of spending the holiday alone had depressed her.
She reached for one of the plates and a fork. Whenever she was nervous she wanted to eat and it was impossible to ignore the heavenly scent of the cinnamon that wafted from the coffee cake.
“Okay, let’s start with the basics,” he said. “Henry James Randolf, thirty-five years old, rancher and oilman. I’m a Taurus. I like my steak rare and sunrise rides on my horse. I’ve been told that I’m stubborn but I don’t necessarily see that as a fault. I’m not a big drinker but I do like a glass of scotch or brandy in the evenings. Now, your turn.”
“Melissa Sue Monroe, thirty years old. I’m a Libra and I like my steak well-done. Before I got pregnant I was working to build my own interior design business. I’ve never been on a horse and my drink of choice is an occasional glass of wine. Oh, and I’ve been told I have a bit of a stubborn streak, too.”
He smiled, although she noticed that the gesture didn’t quite warm the blue of his eyes. “What about family?” he asked.
She shook her head and paused to take a bite of the cake. “I don’t have any. My father left when I was five, told my mother he wasn’t cut out for family life. I never saw him again. My mother passed away two years ago and since then it’s just been me … and of course, the boys.”
“You have friends who give you emotional support?”
“My best friend lives in Oklahoma, so I don’t see her very often. As far as other friends, to be honest the birth of the twins has pretty much put an end to any social life for me.”
“How’s your interior design business?”
She considered lying. She thought about telling him that she was wildly successful, but he was obviously an intelligent man. He only had to take a glance at her car and note the worn condition of her clothing to know that the money wasn’t rolling into her household.
“Nonexistent,” she finally said. “The pregnancy was