A Baby Under the Tree (6 page)

As a result, Trina knew more about Shane than anyone else in Brighton Valley. But he knew more about her, too.

At one time, before heartache and a few bad choices had left her weathered and worn, she'd been pretty. If a man looked close enough, he could still see hints of it in her eyes.

“Hey,” she said, brightening when she spotted Shane. “I haven't seen you in here for a while. How's it going?”

“All right.” He tossed her a friendly smile. “How are the kids? Any more broken windows?”

Trina laughed. “There'd better not be. I told them I was going to quit buying groceries if they played dodgeball in the living room again.”

Last week, when Shane had stopped by for some hot wings and a beer on his way home, she'd had to leave work to run one of the boys to the E.R. at the Brighton
Valley Medical Center. The kid had nearly cut off his finger trying to clean broken glass off the floor.

Shane introduced the women, calling Jillian a friend of his.

“It's nice to meet you,” Trina said to Jillian, before asking Shane, “What can I get you?”

“I'll have a Corona—with lime.” He looked at Jillian. “Would you like something stronger than that?”

“No, thanks. I'll stick with juice.”

Was she worried that alcohol might lower her inhibitions? She didn't need to be. He'd never take advantage of her, although he supposed she really had no way of knowing that. At least, not yet.

He wouldn't be opposed to taking her back to his place, though. And if she still insisted upon taking things slow, he'd let her have his bed, and he'd sleep on the sofa.

Of course, the night was still young. So who knew how things would end up?

As he cast a glance her way, he saw that she was pulling at the nail on one of her fingers. He couldn't help thinking that she was more nervous than he'd ever seen her.

Why? Was she apprehensive about seeing him again?

If so, was it the honky-tonk setting that was bothering her? Or was it confronting the sexual attraction they'd both found so impossible to ignore?

She stopped messing with her fingernail, then leaned forward and rested her forearms on top of the table. “There's something I need to tell you.”

That's what she'd said when she'd called yesterday.
Yet whatever she had to say still seemed to weigh on her mind.

Wanting to make it easier on her, he tossed her a smile. “I hope it's to say that you missed me.”

She returned his smile, although hers was laden with whatever had been holding her back. “It's a little more complicated than that.”

Apparently so. But her nervousness set him on edge, too.

Finally, she said, “I want you to know that the night we spent in Houston was the first time I'd ever done anything like that.”

He'd suspected as much, and a slow grin stretched across his face. “I'm glad to hear it.”

So maybe she did have more in mind than a glass of OJ and a chat. He sure hoped so, but he was going to need a little more to go on than that.

Jillian ran her fingertip along the moisture that had gathered on the Mason jar, clearly holding back her announcement.

He couldn't help but chuckle. “Something tells me that it might be easier for you to say what you came to say if you asked Trina to put a little vodka in that glass.”

“That wouldn't help.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “There's no easy way to say this, Shane. I'm pregnant.”

Her statement slammed into him like barrage of bullets, making it impossible to speak, let alone react.

Was she suggesting the baby was his? Or had she met someone else in the past few months?

“I thought you should know,” she added.

Why? Because the baby
was
his?

They'd used protection… Had they gotten careless that night? Was the condom outdated?

Or had she gotten pregnant by some other guy? Her ex-husband maybe?

Was that why she hadn't contacted him? Was she afraid he wouldn't like the idea of her having some other man's baby?

“How far along are you?” he asked, hoping to do the math and clarify things without asking outright if the baby was his.

“Four and a half months,” she said.

That would make it about right.

He supposed there was no way around being direct. “Is it mine?”

She shot him a wounded expression. “Of course it's yours. I told you that I'd never done anything like that before.”

Well, how the hell was he supposed to have known that it had to be his? She'd been married up until the time they'd met…?. And maybe she'd done it a second or third time—with someone else.

“I know we used a condom,” she added, “so I'm not sure how it happened, but it did.”

Shane lifted his hat, raked a hand through his hair, then set the Stetson on the table. “I'm sorry, Jillian. I'm just a little…stunned. That's all.”

God, he was going to be a father again…

Just the thought caused voice-stealing emotion to
rise in his chest and ball up in his throat—fear and panic, pride…

“I'm not asking for anything,” she said. “Like I said before, I plan to raise the baby on my own. And other than the fact that it will probably be a little inconvenient because of school and all, I'm actually looking forward to being a mom. It's just that I thought you should know.”

He would have been furious with her if he'd ever found out on his own and learned that she'd kept it from him. But right now, he didn't know quite what to say. His emotions were flying around like stray bullets at a shoot-out—each spinning toward separate targets.

For some reason, thoughts of Marcia came back to taunt him, memories of her taking their toddler and moving out of town. The reminder served to blindside him, making it even more difficult to deal with Jillian's news—and making it way more personal.

“I'm sorry,” she said.

“About what?”

“I don't know. Dumping all of this on you, I guess. You must be worried about what this all means, but it doesn't have to mean anything to you. I just thought you should know.” She bit down on her bottom lip, her mind undoubtedly going a mile a minute, just as his was doing.

He tried to wrap his mind around the fact that he was going to be a father again, but as he did, thoughts of Joey swept over him: the sight of the newborn coming into the world; that first flutter of a smile; the sight of
the chubby baby pulling himself to a stand at the coffee table.

While he should look forward to the idea of having a second chance at fatherhood, the horrendous image of his eighteen-month-old son lying in a small, white, satin-lined casket chased away the sweet memories, and he feared what this might lead to…the anger, the pain, the grief.

After Shane and Marcia had split up, she'd moved out of state, taking Joey with her. Not only had Shane lost out on seeing his son from day to day, he'd been more than five-hundred miles away when he'd received word that he'd…lost him for good.

There was no way Shane wanted to go through that again. And while he had no idea how he would remedy that this time around, he knew he'd have to do something.

He glanced at Jillian, saw her pulling at her fingernail again—clearly worried, nervous and stressed about the situation.

It probably hadn't been easy for her to deliver the news, and he was sorry that his initial reaction had been a little harsh.

“I didn't mean to snap at you,” he said, his mind still reeling.

She smiled, then glanced away. “I understand.”

But she
didn't;
she
couldn't.

He probably should tell her about Joey, about how he'd lost his son, about how he still ached with grief. But he didn't think he could open his heart like that without choking up and falling apart.

Besides, the baby news had slammed into him like a runaway train, and it was too soon for him to have a rational reaction to it.

Even if he'd been happy to learn that he was going to be a father again, he wasn't sure if he could trust her. What if Jillian took his baby away and never let him see it again?

He studied her for a moment, watched her slip her hand between the table and her belly, stroking her rounded womb as if caressing the child that grew there.

His child.

Her child.

Fear of repeating the past—the pain, the grief—threatened to suck the breath right out of him, but he couldn't let it. He had to face the truth. He was going to be a father again.

And there was no reason history had to repeat itself.

“When's the baby due?” he asked.

“December third.” Her gaze wrapped around his, and she smiled, a whisper of relief chasing away all signs of her nervousness.

How had he missed seeing it before—the obvious pregnancy, the maternal glow?

Jillian might have waited too damn long to tell him about the baby, but he sensed she was happy about the situation.

“Are you planning to drive back to Houston tonight?” he asked.

She caught his gaze. “Actually, I didn't like the idea of being on the road after dark, so I got a room at the Night Owl.”

“You could have stayed with me.”

“I… Well, I suppose I could have, but I wasn't sure how you'd take the news. And I figured things might be a little awkward between us.”

“Maybe so, but we'll need to deal with the situation anyway.” And some of it was going to be tough.

Shane scanned the honky-tonk, and when he spotted Trina, he motioned for her to come to the table.

“Are you hungry?” he asked Jillian.

“A little.”

When Trina reached the table, Shane said, “We'd like to place an order to go.”

“All right. I'll get you a couple of menus.” When she returned, she handed each of them the new, one-sided laminated sheet of cardstock that offered a few appetizers and various sandwiches. “I'll give you a chance to look this over, then I'll be back.”

“Where are we going?” Jillian asked him.

“When I thought we were just tiptoeing around our attraction and a possible romance, I figured the Stagecoach Inn would be good place to kick up our heels and forget all the reasons why a long-distance relationship wouldn't work out. But now that things have taken an unexpected turn, we need to find a quieter spot so we can talk.”

Jillian didn't respond.

Moments later, Trina returned for their orders.

“I'll have the soup and salad combo,” Jillian said.

Shane chose the bacon cheeseburger and fries.

“You got it.” Trina scratched out their requests on her pad before taking the order to the kitchen.

While Shane and Jillian waited for their food, they made small talk about the music on the jukebox and some of the more interesting characters who had begun to fill the honky-tonk. Yet the tension stretched between them like a worn-out bungee cord ready to snap.

Before long, Trina returned with a take-home bag, as well as the bill. Shane paid the tab, leaving her a generous tip.

“Are you ready?” he asked Jillian, as he scooted back his chair and got to his feet.

Jillian stood and reached for her purse. “So where did you decide to eat?”

“You said you had a room at the Night Owl. Let's go there.”

If she had any reservations about taking him back to the motel with her, she didn't say. And Shane was glad. It was important that they take some time to really get to know each other.

And the sooner they got started doing that, the better.

A
s dusk settled over Brighton Valley, Shane and Jillian stepped out of the honky-tonk and into the parking lot, which was filling up with a variety of pickups and cars.

“Did you drive from the motel?” he asked.

“No, I walked. The doctor encouraged me to get plenty of exercise, and since I'd been in the car for the past two hours, I thought… Well, it was only a couple of blocks, and it was a good way to stretch my legs.”

So she'd already seen a doctor. That was good.

“Is everything going okay?” he asked. “No problems?”

“I had a little nausea at first, but it wasn't anything to complain about.”

He was glad to hear that. Marcia had been pretty
sick when she'd been pregnant with Joey, although she felt a bit better by the time she was four or five months along. In fact, if he remembered correctly, Marcia had been at that stage when they'd learned that Joey was going to be a boy.

Shane assumed that, since Jillian was seeing a doctor, she was having all the appropriate tests and exams. So he asked, “Do you know whether it's going to be a girl or a boy?”

“No, I told the doctor I wanted to be surprised.” She shrugged. “At least, I'd thought so at the time of my sonogram. But I have to admit, I'm getting more and more curious now.”

As they continued walking to the street, their feet crunching along the graveled parking lot, Shane couldn't help stealing a glance at Jillian, checking out the way her belly swelled with their child.

He suspected that she was going to be one of those women who was even more beautiful when she was nine months pregnant. But he didn't want her to think his only concern was the baby, so he asked, “How's school going?”

“It took a little while to get back into the swing of taking notes and studying, but I'm doing okay now. I'm taking two summer courses, and I have finals in two weeks, but nothing too difficult.”

“Then what?” he asked.

“I'll begin the student-teaching phase during the fall semester…?. Well, that was my game plan before finding out about the baby. It's due right before Christmas, so I'll probably have to wait another semester.”

“How are you fixed for money?” he asked.

“I'm okay.” She pulled up short. “That's not why I came out here.”

He stopped, too. “You need to understand something. I don't expect you to support the baby all by yourself. I'll do my part.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, then her gaze lifted and locked on his. Sincerity flared in her eyes, as well as determination. “You don't have to.”

Yes, he did.

Unable to help himself, he reached for her hair, touched the silky platinum-blond strands, then let them slip through his fingers. Jillian might be pregnant, and he might have been blown away by the news, but that didn't mean she wasn't a beautiful woman. Or that he'd stopped thinking about wanting to spend another night with her.

Jillian slowly turned away from him, and they continued down the street for two short blocks. Their conversation ceased, as Shane let his thoughts run away with him.

There were a lot of things to consider, a lot yet to be seen. He probably ought to ask more questions. After all, he certainly had plenty of them bouncing around in his head. But he didn't want things to get any heavier between them than they were now.

Not with a lover's moon lighting their path to the motel where she had a room.

The Night Owl, a typical small-town motor inn, sat near the highway, catering to travelers on a budget and
to those just passing through. It was the only place to stay on this side of Brighton Valley.

Across town, closer to the thriving community of Wexler, builders and developers had been hard at work, creating several subdivisions along the perimeter of the lake and recreation area.

The Brighton Valley Medical Center, which served the citizens from the entire valley, was located in that part of town, too, as was a supermarket, a department store and a much nicer motel.

But since Shane hadn't wanted to give Jillian any complicated directions, he'd chosen the Stagecoach Inn because it would be easier for her to find. However, he hadn't expected her to need lodging, too. So he should have come up with something closer to Wexler.

He supposed the Night Owl wasn't so bad, even if it wouldn't provide her with the kind of accommodations she was probably used to.

As they approached the single-story building with white stucco walls and a red-tile roof, he spotted a couple of older vehicles in the parking lot, but his gaze lit upon a white, late-model Mercedes coupe in the space closet to number ten, which had to be where they were heading.

Jillian's steps slowed as she reached into her purse, then lifted an old-fashioned key instead of a more modern card and smiled. “I guess this place is in a bit of a time warp.”

Her smile suggested she wasn't too bothered by the age of the motel, then she turned and led him to number ten.

Shane was reminded of the last time she'd let him into her hotel room.

As much as he'd like to wrap his arms around her again, kiss her senseless at the door, stretch out naked on the bed and make love until dawn, things were going to be different tonight.

At least, he assumed they would be.

Yet just as before, Shane held the door for Jillian, then followed her inside.

The room, which was clean but sparse, had been simply decorated with a queen-size bed and the typical, nondescript box-style furniture. Again he was reminded that she wasn't used to this kind of lodging, even if she hadn't complained.

He set their bag of food on the small Formica table in the corner, then dug inside for the takeout cartons, plastic utensils and napkins Trina had packed inside.

After setting everything out on the table, he turned to Jillian, intending to follow her lead.

She blushed, and her thick, spiky lashes swept down, then up in a hesitant way.

“What's the matter?”

“I…” She bit down on her bottom lip. “I don't know. I guess I'm just a little concerned about what the future will bring.”

For a moment, he wondered if she was talking about them having dinner together in her motel room, while a queen-size bed grew in prominence. But she probably meant the changes the baby would make in their lives, about them trying to be coparents when distance was going to be an issue.

Either way, he didn't like the idea of her being stressed—and not just because she was pregnant. So he stepped forward, cupped her cheeks with both hands and caught her eye. “If you want to know the truth, Jillian, I'm nervous about the future, too. But maybe, if we take the time to get to know each other a whole lot better, things will be easier to deal with.”

Her smile, which bordered on pleasure and relief, nearly knocked him to the floor. And he found himself wanting to kiss her in the worst way—and just as he'd done before.

Who was this woman? And what was she doing to him?

Struggling to get his hormones in check, he nodded toward the food on the table. “Why don't we start by having dinner?”

“Okay.” She crossed the small room in three steps, then pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table.

He followed her lead, but in spite of suggesting that they eat, he wasn't nearly as hungry as he'd once been. Not for food anyway. But making love had gotten them into this mess in the first place, and doing it again wasn't going to solve any of the problems they now faced.

Instead, it would be imperative to learn more about her.

And one thing that really had him perplexed was her financial situation, since she appeared to be ultra-wealthy, yet lived in a modest apartment.

“You said that you didn't expect any financial support from me. And by the style and make of the car
parked outside, as well as those diamond stud earrings you're wearing, I take it money isn't an issue for you.”

She lifted the lid to her soup, then reached for a plastic spoon. “I'm afraid things aren't always what they seem. Thanks to a prenuptial agreement, the only things I got from the divorce settlement—besides my freedom—was a modest settlement, my jewelry and the Mercedes you saw out front. But I plan to trade in the car for something more economical in the next couple of weeks. And I've sold some of the jewelry already.”

“Then you
do
need money.”

“But I don't need
your
money,” she insisted. “I didn't come here to secure child support payments. Honestly, Shane, I only came to tell you that you're going to be a father. Just so you'd know. I really wasn't trying to rope you into anything. I can make it on my own.”

Shane didn't mean to doubt her. It's just that… Well, he was finding it difficult to get a firm read on her, so he asked, “Then what's the best way for me to help you? I'm afraid the ball is in your court.”

Was it?

Jillian had just placed a spoonful of broth into her mouth, so she couldn't have managed a quick response if she'd wanted to, which was just as well. Her first thought was to tell him,
You can stop asking me questions and start answering a few of mine.

After all, she'd come out to Brighton Valley to learn more about Shane, but she couldn't very well open by bringing up the incident that had caused him to get in trouble with the HPD—even if that was the main thing she both wanted and needed to know.

If she did broach a sticky subject like that right off the bat, he'd wonder how she'd found out about it. And what was she supposed to admit? That she'd not only done an internet search, which everyone did these days, but that she'd also enlisted the help of an investigative journalist?

It was too soon to do that, so she answered as honestly as she could. “I'm really not sure how you can help.”

“Like I said before, I want to be involved in the baby's life.”

“Well, under the circumstances, that's going to be a little tough, isn't it?”

It was the truth, although she hoped the words didn't come across as harshly as they sounded after the fact.

Shane glanced down at his uneaten burger, then met her gaze. Yet he didn't speak.

He was a handsome man and a good lover—that, she knew. But she had no idea what was under the surface—or what kind of father he'd make. And his desire to be a part of the baby's life caught her off guard, causing her maternal instincts to kick in.

“If you're thinking you'd like to share custody, that won't work. A baby needs its mother.”

Shane stiffened as if she'd struck him, and she wasn't sure why. He lived two hours away. How could they possibly consider joint custody until the child was older? And even then, she wasn't willing to enter an arrangement like that until she knew him better and could determine whether he harbored either a short fuse or a violent streak.

She placed the lid back on her soup container, no longer hungry. Why had she told him she was pregnant? Okay, so it wouldn't have been right to keep it from him, but she was having serious misgivings.

Shane pushed his food aside. “Look, I didn't mean that I expected to have the baby every other weekend, it's just that… Well, I have a big family and a lot of nieces and nephews. I want them to know my son and to be able to play with him.”

“Your
son?
” She smiled, assuming that he probably thought he could relate better to a boy—playing ball, riding horses and whatever activities daddies liked to do with their children. “What if the baby is a girl?”

He paused, and that fleeting shadow darkened his eyes again, moving on as quickly as it had arisen.

“A little girl would be fine with me,” he said. “I'm just trying to figure out how to make a difficult situation work out for everyone involved.”

“Everyone?”

“You, me
and
the baby.”

Jillian thought about that for a moment, then decided that he wasn't being completely unreasonable. “I suppose you could drive to Houston on the weekends and visit us.”

Again, he stiffened, as if offended by the offer.

“I'd also be happy to invite your nieces and nephews over to spend time with their new cousin,” she added.

He seemed to be mulling that over. Couldn't he see that she was willing to compromise—when possible?

She reached across the table and placed her hand on his forearm, felt the strength of well-defined muscles.
“I'm sure you're a wonderful man, Shane. And that you'll make a great father. It's just that…I don't really know that yet. I don't know much about you. I'm sorry if I'm coming across as resistant or difficult. My motherly instincts must be coming into play.”

At that, she could feel the tension ease in his forearm, and his expression softened.

“I already made a mistake by marrying a man I couldn't trust,” she said. “So I hope you won't blame me for being gun-shy when it comes to jumping into any kind of relationship, especially when I have a baby to consider this time around.”

He placed his hand on top of hers, his touch sending a whisper of heat coursing through her.

Yet it was the intensity of his gaze, the ragged sincerity in his eyes, that urged her to give him a chance—to give them
all
one.

“I can't blame you for wanting to be careful,” he said. “I'm a little gun-shy, too. And since you're going to be the mother of my baby, I'd like to know with absolute certainty that you'll make a good one.”

She hadn't realized that he had some of the same concerns that she had, a thought that soared crazily like a broken kite on a snapped string.

“You could be a good actress,” he said, “but something tells me that you're every bit the woman I thought you were when I showed up at your house in Houston, hoping a long-distance relationship might work out between us. But back then, I figured it was worth the risk of striking out if you'd rejected the idea.”