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Rolling his eyes, Shane shook his head. “He definitely marches to the beat of his own drum. But don’t worry. He’ll get over it.”
“Boy, I got a bone to pick with you,” Cactus groused as he limped back into the room. “Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna have a lady friend comin’ for a visit this weekend?”
“I didn’t figure it would matter, since you weren’t supposed to be here,” Shane answered, unaffected by the older man’s irritation. Releasing her, he walked over to the coffeemaker. “Have a seat at the table, Lissa, while I pour us a cup of coffee. Lissa, this is Cactus Parsons, my housekeeper and the orneriest old cuss you’d ever care to meet.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Cactus,” she said, smiling.
He nodded. “Ma’am.”
Remembering something one of her friends had mentioned about not drinking caffeinated beverages while pregnant, Lissa shook her head. “Thank you, but I think I’ll pass on the coffee.”
When Shane walked over to sit beside her at the table, Cactus asked, “How do you like your eggs, gal?”
“Say scrambled,” Shane whispered. “That’s the only way he knows how to cook them.”
“I heard that, and it ain’t true,” the old gentleman retorted. “I know how to put cheese in ’em or if your lady friend would like onions and green peppers, I can make ’em that way, too.”
Shane laughed. “But they’re still scrambled.”
“It don’t matter,” Cactus insisted, his toothless grin wide. “They’re still different than just plain old eggs.”
Having grown up in the house where teasing and good-natured banter hadn’t existed, Lissa enjoyed listening to the exchange between the two men. It told her a lot about the kind of man Shane was.
Besides going out of his way to preserve an old man’s dignity by making bets they both knew were a complete farce, Shane went along with and even encouraged the man’s complaints because he knew it made Cactus happy.
That was something her father certainly would have never done for one of his employees. For that matter, he hadn’t bothered to do anything even remotely similar to that for his own children.
There wasn’t a single time in her life that she could remember her father teasing or playing with her or her brothers. He had reminded them on a daily basis from the time they were old enough to listen that if they weren’t excelling academically or working to somehow improve Jarrod Ridge, they were letting themselves down and disappointing him.
“Here you go, gal,” Cactus said, interrupting her thoughts as he placed a plate of bacon and eggs in front of her.
As soon as the plate touched the table, the food that had smelled so delicious only a few moments before caused a terrible queasiness in the pit of her stomach. Glancing at Shane, she watched his easy expression turn to one of concern and she knew she must look as ill as she felt.
Unable to make an excuse for leaving the table, Melissa jumped from the chair and ran as fast as she could for the stairs. She barely managed to make it into the master bathroom and slam the door before falling to her knees.
She had never in all of her twenty-six years been as sick as she was at that moment. If the fact that she was pregnant hadn’t sunk in before, it certainly had became very real now.
Feeling as if the blood in his veins had turned to ice water, Shane took the stairs two at a time as he chased Lissa. What the hell was wrong with her?
She had seemed fine when they got up and came downstairs for breakfast. Then, without warning, she’d turned ghostly pale and bolted from the room like a racehorse coming out of the starting gate.
As soon as he entered his bedroom he heard her and found the bathroom door locked. “Lissa, let me in,” he demanded.
“Go…away…Shane.” Her voice sounded weak and shaky.
“Not until I know you’re going to be all right.” If he had to, he would break the damned door down. But he wasn’t going anywhere until he found out what was wrong with her.
“I think…I have…morning sickness,” she said, sounding downright miserable. “Please leave…me…alone so I…can die…in peace.”
Feeling completely useless, Shane drew in a deep breath and walked over to sit on the end of the bed while he waited for her nausea to run its course. He felt guilty. If not for one of his swimmers, she wouldn’t be in there feeling as if death would be a blessing.
He rested his forearms on his knees and stared down at his loosely clasped hands. He wished there was something he could do for her, but he was at a total loss. Horses didn’t suffer through morning sickness and, since he never intended to have a wife and kids, he had never bothered to learn more than the basics about human pregnancies. Now he was going to have to play catch-up and learn all he could on the subject.
