Chapter Nineteen

The air left Craig's lungs in a rush. His legs grew week and he clutched the wagon for support as he attempted to steady himself under the harsh gaze of the Madame.

A babe?

That couldn't be. Craig had always, always, been more than a little careful to never get a woman with child.... It had been something he was obsessive about not doing since the child of a whore seldom grew up with love and care. He'd spent most of his adult life helping children—he wouldn't want his own growing up unloved or unwanted.

No. There was simply no way that Susannah was carrying his child. He'd always been too careful.

His eyes closed as a groan escaped his lips.

But what about that night? The night he couldn't remember? The night the hotel clerk claimed he checked in with a guest of less than exceptional reputation?

Craig squared his shoulders and met the Madame's eyes. If he was going to be accused of fathering a child, he was going to look into his accuser's eyes while it happened. "Where is Susannah?"

"Follow me," the Madame barked.

Craig did just that and his hands were shaking as he entered the brothel. He was led up the grand staircase and down carpeted hall to one of many doors.

The Madame rapped sharply at the door before pulling it open and ushering Craig inside. He stepped across the threshold and his eyes fell upon his accuser.

"Hello, Craig," she whispered, wrapping her arms tight around herself as she stood there in floor length yellow robe, cinched tight at a waist that wasn't showing any sign of the life growing inside her just yet.

Craig took in the waves of golden hair, the full lips, the soft cheeks and big blue eyes. She was damn pretty, that was for sure.

But he had no memory of the woman—or of bedding her.

Craig glanced at the Madame. "Ma'am, can we have a bit of privacy?"

The Madame sent Susannah a sharp glance and then nodded curtly before exiting the room with a swish of heavy skirts.

Without her Madame's heavy gaze on her, Susannah let out a lengthy sigh and her shoulders sagged. She didn't seem to want to meet Craig's eyes. "Did she tell you?"

Craig walked to the small table and tapped his fingers on the dainty ceramic vase sitting upon it. "Yeah, she told me. Forgive me if I'm out of line, but, how can a woman of your profession possibly determine who fathered her child?"

Susannah's face paled as she rubbed at her fabric encased arms. "You shouldn't judge a woman for her profession," she replied. "Especially when you've so enjoyed it."

Craig winced and shook his head. "I'm not judging your profession, ma'am," he assured her. "I was only asking a question. I'm assuming, by the looks of you, that you're quite good at your job, which would mean that any number of men could have fathered a child with you. Why are you so certain it's me?"

"I appreciate your high appraisal of my physical wares, however, in answer to your question, I'm very certain that you are the father of the babe in my belly because you are the only man I've laid with while in this brothel's employ."

Craig could not completely contain his laughter. "Right... And I'm supposed to take your word on that?"

Susannah's eyes narrowed. "You should, yes. I would have no reason to lie."

"Maybe you've been laying with men without your Madame's consent and keep the coin for yourself and you got yourself in a spot and decided to blame me."

Susannah's face paled and her blue eyes widened. She took a step back and shook her head as she clutched at the lapel of her robe. "How dare you accuse me of..... You know that I was a... You...."

Craig feared the woman had forgotten how to speak simple English. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down. "Just what have I forgotten?" 'Other than everything,' he added silently.

"You know good and well what you took when we spent our time together. You were my first customer. My first man. You were my first."

Craig swallowed hard. He thought about what she said. Swallowed again. He tapped his fingers on his arms. Swallowed.

Then his laughter filled the air. "A virgin whore?" he demanded, finding so much humor in the idea that he was nearly doubled over with laughter and finding it difficult to breathe.

His demeanor sobered instantly when the stinging of her hand across his face had him standing straight and slack-jawed.

"Don't you dare laugh at me," Susannah hissed, her finger nearly poking him in the nose as all five feet four inches of her shook. "I was a virgin and you took that for a decent amount of money. But the very next day a man came to town, he told Madame that he wanted to purchase me. I was not to lay with any other man. I was, from that day on, to remain faithful only to him. And he paid Madame a fortune to ensure she'd honor his wishes."

Craig rubbed at his sore jaw. "I don't remember a thing from that night....." he mumbled. "I sure as hell don't remember taking a woman's virginity....."

"Which makes me feel so wonderful about the situation," Susannah replied, her gaze falling to the floor as she stepped back. "But it happened. And now I'm carrying your child and the man who paid the Madame will no longer want me and will demand to have his money returned."

Craig shook his head. "Let's just say that hypothetically I believe you, what makes you so sure the babe isn't that man's?"

"You sure are slow," she muttered. "I never actually laid with him. He came into the brothel, picked me out and made the deal with Madame, but he was on his way out for a big job and hasn't returned yet. He's do back any day. You are the only man I've laid with."

Craig decided he needed a drink.. but first needed to sit down. Falling down hard in the dainty chair beside him, Craig winced when he heard it creak.

Then again, maybe he'd get lucky and die if the chair broke. Death by fancy arm chair. Hell, a man could dream.

What the hell was he going to do? Did he believe Susannah? Not entirely. There was something about the woman that just seemed off. His gut sensed an act but he wasn't quite sure what the play was.

He wasn't a wealthy man so she couldn't be coming after him for money. He was pretty damned easy on the eyes—would a woman go through so much trouble to ensure she'd have a good view every morning?

Damned if he knew.

For all that Craig had enjoyed of female company, he knew next to nothing about what went on between their ears.

The hotel clerk suddenly entered Craig's mind. The clerk had seen the lady Craig had apparently checked in with that night. If the clerk could identify Susannah, then Craig would at least know the woman had been to his hotel room.

"Come with me," he said as he got to his feet.

"Where?" she demanded, crossing her arms tight around herself.

"To the hotel. If the clerk recognizes you, then I'll at least believe part of your story."

"You're saying you don't believe me?" she snapped.

Craig rolled his eyes. "Darlin', I'm not as dense as you seem to think. I smell something off about this whole situation. Did you think I'd just fall to my knees at your accusation, whip out a ring and beg you to run off to be my wife?"

She remained silent and stared hard at him. Craig shrugged. "Get dressed. I'll wait in the hall."

Craig opened the door and the Madame was standing there, still tapping that foot for all she was worth as her girth shook. He glanced over his shoulder. "Hopefully your boss won't break me in half while I'm waiting."

***

They stepped into the hotel a short time later. The clerk glanced up from his paper with a smile on his face, however, that smile quickly morphed into a scowl when his eyes fell upon them.

"You again?" he demanded. "Sir, I told you before that we don't allow her kind in this establishment."

That hadn't been what Craig had wanted to hear. "I was in here with her before?"

The clerk let out an exasperated breath. "Yes. Of course you were. Now get her out of here!"

Craig shook his head and stepped closer to the counter. He leaned over it and whispered. "But are you sure it was her? It wasn't a different woman?"

The man glared. "It was her. Now get out!"

Craig rubbed at his abused ear drum and stood straight. He looked from the clerk to Susannah several times and grumbled.

"Well hell."

Stepping outside, Craig began to pace. His long legs ate up the ground as he stormed back and forth. He didn't pay attention to the townsfolk forced to scurry out of his path or be run over.

He could only think about what a mess he'd made. He still wasn't entirely convinced that the babe in the woman's belly was his. Hell, how could he be? He didn't judge women of her profession for what they were, but he also knew how babes were made and he doubted she'd truly been a virgin. Virgins didn't tend to go into the whoring business.

But what if it was? What if he told Susannah to go to hell and ended up abandoning his own child in the process? Craig had spent most of his life helping children who had no one—he couldn't very well abandon his own.

"I need a goddamn drink so I can think more clear," he grumbled.

His boots carried him to the saloon. He ordered a shot of whiskey and a mug of beer and, after downing the shot, he settled down at a back table to nurse his beer.

He was aware of Susannah settling herself down at the table with him and stubbornly ignored her. Couldn't she tell he needed space to think?

"I am not any more happy about this than you are. But, facts are facts, Craig. This is your babe. I have nowhere to go and no one to turn to other than you. Madame is kicking me out because no man wants a whore who has a child nursing her tit or lines on her from carrying a child."

Craig downed an even larger swallow of his beer and swiped at his mouth. "Do you think you could give me some damn space?" he grumbled. "Hell woman, you gotta let a man breathe."

Susannah shook her head. "No. I won't. This is my life hanging in the balance here. My child's life. Our child's life. Tomorrow I'll be homeless. Soon I'll be showing. No one in this town is going to help a ruined whore who got herself in trouble."

Craig rubbed roughly at his face. He had no idea what to say. So instead of speaking, he let out a groan and bent forward, banging his head on the table several times before letting his forehead simply rest against the scarred wood.

He stayed that way for several long moments. Susannah, thankfully, had finally ceased to speak.

When a masculine throat cleared beside him, Craig nearly came up swinging, tired of being bothered. Instead, he turned his head slightly and cracked a lid.

And the world stopped spinning.

Shit.

"I'm trying to be real patient," Ezekiel growled. "But finding you here in a saloon with a mug of beer and a woman it testing that resolve."