Authors: Linda Warren,Marin Thomas,Jacqueline Diamond,Leigh Duncan
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Series, #Harlequin American Romance
“I’m thinking positive. We’ll have a house full of babies.” Karen grinned at the prospect.
Not if I move in with Jack.
Anya hadn’t considered how that would affect her housemates or Rod. She certainly didn’t intend to share a small apartment with
him.
Well, she’d deal with those issues later.
“It’s very unlikely the embryos will all attach,” Melissa reminded Karen.
“I’m sure at least one will,” her friend said. “And there’ll be two infants, anyway.”
“I thought Anya was giving hers up,” Lucky said.
“I didn’t mean...” Karen halted guiltily. She must have found out about Zora, and hadn’t meant to let it slip.
“Who else is pregnant?” Lucky demanded, and immediately answered his own question. “There’s only two possibilities, and if it were you, you’d be crowing from the rooftop.”
Sitting at the table apart from the others, Zora stared moodily into her glass of juice. “Just shut up about it.”
“Who’s the dad?” He broke off as the other women glared at him. “Yeah, I know, none of my business. Oh, please tell me it wasn’t break-up sex.”
Melissa steered the conversation away from Zora. “I’d be due in December,” she said. “Anya, you mentioned September, and, Zora—”
“November,” Zora muttered.
“If it’s a multiple birth, mine are likely to come early,” Melissa said. “In any event, it would be nice to set up a nursery. Lucky, you might have to move out.” She chuckled.
“First positive thing I’ve heard all day.” Zora barely cracked a smile, though. Something must have upset her, beyond the revelation about her pregnancy.
“I think I’ll go upstairs.” Anya didn’t have to fake a yawn. “Zora, you look tired, too.”
Her friend mirrored her yawn. “Yeah, I’ll go up, too.”
On the second floor, Anya said, “My room.”
But Zora turned away. “I need to sleep.”
“It’s way too early.” Anya caught her arm. “Come on. Don’t keep whatever it is bottled up inside.”
A sigh. “I suppose not.”
In Anya’s room, they settled on the window seat. Through the glass, she noted the darkening sky over the estuary, with stars appearing between the deep-blue-on-blue clouds. During her two months in this house, she’d grown to love this view.
“Did you tell Andrew about the baby?” Anya prodded.
“No.” Zora stared blearily at her hands. “I never got the chance. He...” She broke off.
“What did he do?”
“He got married in Las Vegas last weekend,” she choked out. “Betsy told me today. She waited till the end of the day because she knew how upset I’d be.”
“Did you mention that she’s going to be a grandmother?” Anya asked.
Zora shook her head.
“You
are
going to tell him about the baby, right?” Before her friend could answer, Anya added, “It’s not like Betsy won’t notice you’re pregnant.”
“Her first loyalty is to her son, not me,” Zora said miserably. “Oh, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. What about
your
day?” Gray eyes bored into hers. “What happened at the ultrasound? Did you meet Jack’s mother? And what were you doing for the past few hours?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Start anywhere.”
Anya sketched the day’s events. In retrospect, Mamie had been rather funny, except for her unhappy effect on Jack. As for the salmon dinner, she hoped he’d fix it again for her, soon. And the rest...she was still figuring that out. “If we move in together, his cooking will be a big plus.” Along with a lot of other things.
“You guys are together.” Zora swallowed. “I should be glad for you. I
am
glad for you.”
“I’ll still be here for you.” Anya clasped her friend’s hands. “And I haven’t agreed to go to Colorado. Seriously, this whole business is kind of crazy. I’m not a mom. Just because my body betrayed me...”
“Are you out of your mind?” Zora’s thin face became more animated than it had been all evening. “You must be the stupidest person I ever met.”
Anya dropped her hands and scooted back a few inches, which was all the space she had. “Thanks a lot.”
“Shut up and listen.” Zora drew herself up. Even sitting down, she was taller than Zora. “That man’s in love with you. And you adore him, although the idea scares you half to death.”
“All the way to death.” Quickly Anya corrected, “It isn’t love that scares me. It’s marriage.”
“It’s relationships, with or without a license,” her friend insisted. “If I had a guy like Jack begging to marry me, I’d jump at the chance.”
“There are strings attached,” Anya said. “If I go to Colorado, it’ll be like Christmas all over again. My whole family trying to reorganize my life, laying guilt trips on me.”
“And if you don’t go?” Zora pressed.
Anya’s gaze fell on the end table, where an empty space reminded her of the African violet that had once lived there. “I can’t keep a plant alive.... I’m afraid I’ll be like his mother, with all the wrong instincts.” Now that she’d opened up, more truths spilled out. “Sometimes I hated my little sisters. I’d never have harmed them, but the weight of the responsibility was horrible. Every day, diapers and more diapers. Waking up all night, hearing their cries, and never being sure what was wrong or if I could help—I just wanted to run as far and as fast as I could.”
“What your parents did was unfair.” Zora seemed to have gained strength as she listened. “You shouldn’t have had to shoulder so much of their responsibilities. But, Anya, you’re only having one baby, not three. Plus most mothers get cranky with their kids once in a while. And you’ll have Jack to help.”
“I wish he wasn’t insisting I go to my grandmother’s birthday party. They plan to stick me with supervising the kids without even asking me if that’s okay.” She’d hardly have a free minute to spend with her grandma or anyone else.
“Jack’s right. You have to stop seeing yourself as this helpless teenager backed against a wall by your big bossy family,” came the response.
“If I refuse, it’ll be a nonstop battle.”
“You’re an adult and you’re having a baby—just stand up to them,” Zora reproved. “Besides, you’ll have Jack on your side. Do you have any idea how lucky you are? If Andrew were a tenth the man that Jack is, I’d be in heaven.”
Tears sparkled against Zora’s cheeks. She’d spoken from the heart. Most people would agree with her, too, including Jack.
But Zora and Jack had missed the point.
And so have I.
With that realization, Anya suddenly knew what she had to do.
Chapter Seventeen
Having once attended a medical conference in Denver, Jack wasn’t daunted by its large airport, and he easily navigated the hour-long drive to Anya’s hometown using the computer system in their rental car. But as they left the main route and bumped along a narrow road on the final leg of their journey, he was keenly aware that they were traveling not only into a different landscape but also into the past.
Her
past.
For him, this high grassland with its mountainous backdrop brought no memories, merely a faint headache due to the altitude, over a mile above sea level. He turned on the car’s heater against the cold, crisp late afternoon air—another change from Southern California. Having been warned that April might bring almost anything, he was grateful that the forecast contained no snowstorms.
What did all this signify to Anya? It was impossible to discern from her stone-wall expression.
A week ago, she’d informed him of her decision. “I need to find out exactly what I want from my life,” Anya had told him. “Do I want my family involved? Do I want to be a mother? I love you, but people who love each other can’t always live together. What I realized is that the person I most need to confront is myself.”
She’d sent a message to her sister to say they’d be arriving today, Saturday. Since then, Anya hadn’t mentioned her family.
Although Jack found her announcement unsettling, he knew it was important that she face her issues and reach a conclusion. Once she resolved this, there should be no more question of her disappearing when things got tough.
By tomorrow night, he’d have his answer. He hoped it would be one that made them both happy.
“You’re giving her too much power,” Rod had argued when he heard about their bargain.
Jack had disagreed. “I’m keeping our daughter, regardless of whether Anya chooses to stay in the picture. But I love her, and we can’t build a future unless she’s ready to commit whole-heartedly. Don’t forget that it was me who insisted on this trip.”
“You may regret it,” his uncle had muttered over their take-out fried chicken dinner. Since Jack had finished his cooking stint, he’d indulged in fast food most evenings. But while he enjoyed the freedom from a rigid schedule, he missed the give-and-take around the dinner table. Mostly, he missed Anya.
“She’s taking the bull by the horns,” he’d told Rod. “Considering her usual operating method, this is an improvement.”
“Remains to be seen,” Rod had said, but he’d kept his peace after that.
Anya’s hometown, when they reached it, had an Old West design, including the weathered wooden facade of the tack and feed store Anya pointed out, which her parents owned. “If you want any cowboy boots or a hat, you can buy that there,” she said.
“I wonder how Rod would look in a Stetson.”
“Weird.”
“In other words, his normal self,” Jack joked.
“He should stick with fedoras,” she mused. “They’ve grown on me.”
Past the commercial district, the car rolled onto a road bordered by homes set far back on lots large enough to accommodate horse corrals. Following Anya’s directions, Jack turned left at the next intersection.
He felt a quiver of unease. They’d brought sleeping bags, since the only motel in the area was fully booked. Anya had explained that guests would camp out where they could, mostly in her parents’ and grandmother’s houses. It was the “mostly” that bothered him. Sleeping in a chicken coop or barn wasn’t his idea of fun.
It’s only for one night, so no complaints.
He’d hate to come across as a spoiled city boy.
Another turn, and he spotted the address on the mailbox. A sprawling ranch house was half-hidden behind a cluster of RVs parked along a wide driveway. “Looks like most of the gang’s here already.”
Anya gripped the armrest. “They’re probably out back, barbecuing.”
Rolling down a window, he inhaled the delicious scent of grilling. “Hope there’s enough for us.”
“I should have brought a dish. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it.” Anxiety laced her words.
“How exactly would you have carried a casserole through airport security?” He piloted the compact car between the larger vehicles. “Surely they don’t expect that.”
“I have no idea what they expect,” Anya admitted. “I haven’t been reading their texts or any other messages.”
Jack had believed the point of this exercise was to break her habit of avoidance. She obviously saw that in relative terms. Or rather, in terms that excluded her relatives. “I’ll bet they loved that.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
He parked close to the house on a patch of gravel. “You did mention you were bringing me, right?”
“I said me and a guest.”
“That’s it?” Jack groaned aloud. “Anya!”
She cupped her hand over his on the car seat. “I’m sorry. I’m already stressing out. If I’d had to argue with Ruth ten times a day, I’d be a wreck.”
He had to admit, he understood the logic of her approach. Nevertheless, “This is a good way to drive other people crazy.”
“I won’t do that to you.” She tightened her grip on his hand. “I promise, Jack. The difference is that you listen to me, and they don’t.”
“Glad to hear there’s a difference.”
She loosened her grip. “Might as well get this over with. Leave the suitcases.”
“You think we might be heading back to Denver tonight?”
“It’s a possibility,” she told him, and got out of the car.
* * *
A
PPREHENSION
FILLED
A
NYA
.
For heaven’s sake, this was only her family, yet the arguments from last Christmas rang in her memory. She was letting everyone down, her father had said. She ought to grow up and stop playing truant, Ruth had snapped. Even Grandma hadn’t showed her usual enthusiasm for Anya’s nursing career.
“I counted on you to be around in my old age,” she’d said, and turned to hug one of her great grandchildren before Anya could reply.
Her younger sisters had been so busy texting their friends and sharing inside jokes about college that Anya hadn’t really had a conversation with any of them. In retrospect, she supposed they’d been deliberately ducking the quarrels.
Following my example.
She squared her shoulders and rang the bell. That felt odd, since she’d grown up in this house, but in many respects, she was a stranger.
As was the little girl who opened the door. About four, she had an open, freckled face. “Hi,” she announced. “Which one are you?”
Behind her trailed other youngsters, including a familiar two-year-old with dark blond hair. “Kiki,” Anya said. “Remember me?”
“Aunt Anya!” The tot raced into Anya’s arms as she and Jack entered the hall.
“I’m Belle,” said the girl who’d opened the door, and Anya finally placed her as the daughter of her older brother Benjie. Or possibly Bart. Since they were identical twins who’d each had two children, it was hard to keep track of which was which.
The floor creaked beneath an onrush of feet, and Anya looked up to see a swarm of people. Ruth stood out, appearing reserved but relieved, too. The triplets were giggling—honestly, at twenty-one, the girls should be past that—and there were Bart and Benjie and a host of cousins and husbands and wives. They parted before Anya’s father, his leathered face a study in mixed emotions.
“I was afraid we’d chased you away for good,” he said, then halted as he took in her maternity top. “What’s this? Or perhaps I should say, who’s this?” His gaze moved to the man at her side.
“Dad, this is Jack Ryder.” Anya let the circumstances speak for themselves.
Her father thrust out his hand. “Hello. I’m Raymond Meeks, Anya’s dad.”
“It’s an honor to meet you, sir.” Jack shook his hand firmly.
In the introductions that followed, Anya sensed the unasked questions—about her pregnancy, her relationship to Jack, her decision to attend. She let them go unanswered, for now. Mostly, she appreciated the outpouring of welcome.
“Everybody’s been on my case since they found out I didn’t get your consent about the child care,” Ruth admitted as they made their way through the house to the large rear deck, where heat lamps had been turned on to take the edge off the chill. “I guess it was a heavy load to dump on one person.”
“How did you decide to handle it?” Anya ventured, her defenses ready to spring up if Ruth took that as an opening.
“We hired a couple of teenagers,” her sister said. “They’re playing games in the den.” Fixing her gaze on Kiki, she commanded, “Off you go.”
After a last dazzling smile at her aunt Anya, the toddler obeyed. “What a doll.” Although she’d have liked to cuddle her niece longer, Anya was pleased about the sitters. She also sympathized with her sister’s advanced state of pregnancy. “Organizing all this must have been hard for you, especially now. I forgot—when are you due?”
“Next month,” Ruth said. “And you?”
“September.”
“Are you and Jack...”
Anya didn’t hear the rest of the question, because she’d just spotted her mother sitting by the food-laden table. Sitting in a regular chair, from which Molly arose with only a trace of stiffness. “Mom! When did this happen?”
Her mother beamed. “Oh, I still use the wheelchair sometimes, but my new medication is working wonders. Goodness, look at you!”
Another round of hugs followed. Anya was full of questions, which Molly answered gladly. The doctor had started her on a new type of drug called biologics, combined with an older drug. The results had exceeded expectations.
Since Jack was handling the large crowd smoothly, shaking hands and introducing himself, Anya turned her attention to the older woman waiting quietly at the side of the deck. Grandma Rachel’s stern expression reawakened Anya’s doubts.
You came here to face up to your family. Don’t chicken out.
She stooped to embrace her grandmother. “Happy birthday.”
When they separated, tears sparkled on Grandma’s lashes. “I was afraid you’d stay in California.”
“I nearly did,” Anya admitted. “I posted my pictures in the family album, though.” In lieu of gifts, her grandmother had requested that everyone upload favorite pictures on a website for all to enjoy. One of the cousins had volunteered to incorporate them into a scrapbook later.
“We laid quite a guilt trip on you at Christmas.” With a nod at Jack, currently surrounded by Anya’s brothers and cousins, Grandma asked, “Who’s your young man?”
Anya took a seat beside her. “Jack.”
“That’s it? He only has a first name?”
“Dr. Jack Ryder,” she said.
“A doctor. That’s nice.” Grandma tapped Anya’s left hand. “No ring?”
“He asked,” she replied. “I’m deciding.”
Catching their glances, Jack approached. “This must be the birthday girl.” When he flashed his killer smile, Grandma beamed.
Anya introduced them, and they shook hands, Jack careful not to squeeze the old woman’s frail bones. “You’re quite the catch,” her grandmother said, to Anya’s embarrassment.
“So is your granddaughter,” he answered.
Grandma slanted an admiring gaze at him. “You’re a smart young man.”
“And a lucky one.”
Inside Anya, anxieties melted. While she didn’t entirely trust this sense of emotional safety around her relatives, it was lovely for however long it lasted.
Ruth’s husband, Bryce, called out that he’d grilled the last of the hamburgers, and everyone gathered for a blessing over the food. Once Anya’s dad finished giving thanks, they lined up to fill their plates. The children and their sitters went first, then retreated to the den. The adults filed into the dining room, where a series of tables covered with cloths extended into the living room.
Anya was wedged between Jack and her younger sister Sarah. She listened with interest as Jack chatted with Bryce about the feed store, where her brother-in-law was assistant manager and the heir apparent when their father retired in a few years. Then Anya turned to Sarah, eager to learn more about the girls’ upcoming graduation.
All three triplets were earning RN degrees at the University of Colorado. Until now, Anya had figured that was Grandma’s influence.
But Sarah said, “We went into nursing to be like you. It’s so exciting that you’re a scrub nurse. Do you and Jack operate together?”
“He operates. I assist.” In response to more questions, Anya filled in the blanks. “He earned his M.D. and did his residency in obstetrics at Vanderbilt.”
“How’d he end up in Safe Harbor?”
“It’s my hometown,” Jack said from her other side.
Anya couldn’t resist bragging a little. “He was selected for a surgical fellowship by the head of our fertility program, Dr. Owen Tartikoff.”
“Wow!” Sarah ruffled her short hair, a few shades lighter than Anya’s. Her coloring was darker than that of the other two triplets, who were identical. Sarah, born at the same time but conceived from a different egg, was their fraternal sister. “That’s impressive.”
“Some people think so,” Jack responded lightly. “But Anya keeps me humble.”
“She’s amazing, isn’t she?” Sarah said. “She’s my role model.”
Across the table, Ruth dropped her fork with a clatter.
Oh, here it comes.
Anya set down a forkful of potato salad.
Blithely, Sandi—another of the triplets—asked, “Why did you move so far away, Anya? There’s a world-class hospital in Denver.”
“So she could have fun, fun, fun in California.” Ruth’s statement dripped with resentment.
“Hon...” The endearment from Bryce carried a warning note. Bryce was a good man, although his long hours left her sister with much of the hard work raising their four—soon to be five—children, as well as tending their vegetable garden, chickens and dairy goat.
“I’d like to have fun, fun, fun in California,” Sarah said wistfully.
“Sounds good to me,” said the third triplet, Andi.
Since Ruth appeared about to ignite, Anya hurried to correct their impression. “That’s not why I left. I did it so I could be myself.”
From the head of the table, her father joined the conversation. “You could be yourself right here just fine.”