She shrugged. “No more than usual.” After downing the last of her apple juice, she glanced over at him. “I have another question for you.”
“Regarding what?” he asked, extending his legs out in front of him. He rather enjoyed his conversations with her.
“Your family.”
He lifted a brow. “What about my family?”
“I want to know their history.”
Did she think there was something in his family’s history she should be concerned about? “Why?”
“So I can one day share it with...our child.”
He could see the emotional struggle in her gaze. She had referred to the baby as theirs. Did she not think he would be around to share that history with their child?
Pushing such thoughts from his mind, since he knew there was no way he would not be around, he asked, “How far back do you want me to go?”
“I understand your family are Native Alaskans. Did they come from Russia?”
He shook his head. “No. My father’s ancestors are part of the Tlingits tribe. They were known as the Southeast Coastal Indians, and began inhabiting Alaska over ten thousand years before Russia sold it to the United States. They, along with several other Native Alaskan tribes, were living on the land together peacefully.”
“How did they get there if not through Russia?” she asked, tucking back a loose tendril of hair. Why did seeing her do something so insignificant increase his desire for her?
“In school we were taught our history, which I’ve always been proud of,” he said. “It is believed all the Native Alaskan tribes came to North America by way of the Bering Strait Land Bridge.”
Over the next hour, while she nibbled on dry cereal, he told her of his heritage. The legacy that would be their child’s. She seemed to enjoy listening and he definitely enjoyed telling it. It was history not only told to him in school, but relayed to him by his parents and grandparents. He told her how even after the sale of Alaskan land to the United States, very little changed. Any Russians living in Alaska at the time of the sale vacated the land, leaving it completely to the Alaska Natives. It was only close to thirty years later that the land became more inhabited due to the Klondike Gold Rush. During that period, over one hundred thousand prospectors migrated to Yukon in search of gold.
He could tell by the drooping of her eyes that she was getting sleepy. When he got tired of seeing her fight back sleep, he stood. Crossing the room, he swept her into his arms.
“What are you doing?” she asked. He figured she was exhausted since she wasn’t putting up much of a fight.
“I’m putting you in the bed. Time for your nap.”
She cuddled her face in his chest. “You smell good.”
He chuckled. “Thanks.”
When he reached the bed, he placed her on it and watched as her body automatically shifted into what he perceived as her favorite sleeping position. He drew in a deep breath that held her tantalizing scent and fought like hell to ignore the tightening in his groin as he watched her. For the first time since arriving on her doorstep, he wondered if he was making a mistake by being here. How would he give her the proper care she needed when her beauty and desirability were playing havoc on his senses?
She hadn’t demanded that he leave. But she also hadn’t said if she would agree to put his name on their child’s birth certificate. They had a lot to work out.
Yet even while she slept, Carmen had a calming effect on him. Redford had to believe everything would work out between them in the end. He had to believe that.
Chapter Fourteen
Carmen opened her eyes to the sound of music. She slowly eased up in bed and wondered how long she’d slept. It was daylight outside her window so hopefully it hadn’t been long. A glance at the clock on the nightstand showed she’d slept for several hours.
Where was the music, a classical number by Mozart, coming from? She then saw the cell phone in the chair beside her bed and knew Redford had left it there. Had he been sitting there while she slept?
When she suddenly felt nausea coming on, she quickly got out of bed to rush into the bathroom. It was a full half hour later before she came out and almost collided with the hard figure standing there. “Are you okay, Carmen?”
Where had he come from? Had he been outside the bathroom the entire time? Now she was glad she’d closed the bathroom door. She was about to answer and say she was fine when he traced his fingertips across her cheek. She went still beneath his touch. The look on his face displayed both tenderness and concern.
“Carmen?”
He was looking at her with intense dark eyes—eyes a woman could drown in. “Yes?”
“Are you okay?”