Always Dakota - Debbie Macomber [113]
“All right, all right,” he muttered, walking into the storeroom, a little breathless. “What do you want?”
“Hey, don’t snap at me, Buffalo Man.”
“I didn’t snap. I happen to be busy.”
“And I’m not?” She rolled her eyes. “Do you want me to move that flour myself?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“That’s what I thought.”
Bob lifted the sack as though it weighed no more than a shoe box and plopped it down where she wanted. Merrily thanked him with a kiss on the cheek, then reached inside the soapy bucket for her cleaning rag.
“I’ve been thinking,” she began as he picked up a second bag, this time of sugar.
“About what?” he grunted.
“Us,” she said calmly. She waited until she had his full attention, then drew herself up straight and looked him in the eye. “Tell me, is there any reason we couldn’t have a baby of our own?”
The fifty-pound bag of sugar dropped to the floor with a solid thump. It was a wonder the sack didn’t burst wide open.
“What did you just say?” Bob asked.
Merrily frowned. “You heard me! I asked your opinion on us having a baby.”
Bob stared at her, mouth gaping slightly.
“Is the idea that wild?” She wasn’t accustomed to seeing her husband speechless.
Bob sank onto the sugar sack, shaking his head as though completely overwhelmed. He glanced up at her. “I…I suppose we could try.”
Merrily wasn’t pleased with his response. She’d assumed he’d welcome the suggestion. Be excited. Eager. Happy. But he was none of that. Whirling around, she resumed her task, attempting to hide her disappointment.
“What’s wrong?”
Snorting softly, she ran the wet rag along the empty shelf. “You might have shown a little enthusiasm.”
Once more he seemed at a loss. He shrugged his shoulders.
“I thought…you’d like the idea,” she muttered, uncertain of her own feelings now. Bob had taken the news about Axel as hard as she had, perhaps harder. While the child was with them, Bob had loved and cared for him, had considered him their son. He seemed such a natural father, she’d expected him to jump instantly at the possibility of having a baby.
“I do like the idea,” Bob insisted.
“Well, I sure couldn’t tell.”
He continued to stare at her. “It just takes some getting used to, is all.”
She didn’t reply. What was there to say?
“You honestly want a baby?” he asked.
“Would I have suggested it if I didn’t?”
“I…guess it wouldn’t hurt.”
Merrily forced herself to look past her disappointment at his lukewarm response. Clearly she’d taken her husband by surprise, but she sensed that something else was troubling him.
“You’d better tell me what’s wrong,” she said.
“Nothing,” he said quickly, far too quickly. “If you’re finished with me here, I’ve got my own work to do.”
“Fine, be that way.” It was hard not to let her hurt feelings show, but she managed by turning her back to him and scrubbed the shelf with enough vigor to remove half the paint.
“Dammit, Merrily, if you want a baby, then we’ll have a baby.”
“I want you to want a baby, too,” she snapped back.
“I do!” he bellowed.
“Everything you’ve said and done tells me otherwise.”
He started pacing, his movements brisk and erratic. “I’m afraid.”
His words stunned her, and she turned to face him. “You’re afraid? Of what?”
Bob was sitting now, and he gestured weakly as he spoke. “What if something happened? You could miscarry. There’s a risk with any pregnancy…And babies are so vulnerable. What about illness? Or accidents? We lost Axel and dammit, Merrily, I don’t know if I could bear to lose another child. I can’t deal with that kind of pain again.”
“I couldn’t bear it, either,” she agreed, reaching for his hands and clasping them between her own. “No one will take our baby away from us. We were good parents to Axel—no one faulted us there. We’ll be good parents to our own child, too.” Her voice tearful, she whispered, “The risk is just part of life. You have to take all the precautions