Her Minnesota Man (A Christian Romance Novel) (28 page)

"I'm no hero," he said harshly. "In fact, I'm just like your father."

"Don't be ridiculous, Jeb. You're no more like my father than you're like your own. You're kind and thoughtful and—"

"Yeah, I'm a real prince." He spat the words. "Two years ago I got a woman pregnant, and then I—"

"Jeb!" she gasped. "
You have a baby
?"

She couldn't like the way the child had come into the world, as a consequence of casual sex rather than as a blessing to multiply the joy of a married couple, but she'd love Jeb's baby with her whole heart. He had to know that. So why had he kept this news from her?

"No," he snapped. "I don't have a baby."

"But you just said you—"

"I said I helped
make
one." He glared at her, daring her to understand.

To forgive.

She pressed a hand against her stomach, which suddenly felt full of butterflies. Had Jeb abandoned his baby? Was that what he'd meant when he'd said he was just like her father?

No, that wasn't possible. Jeb adored babies. He'd never said so, but whenever Laney held one in her arms and smiled up at him to share her delight, his face always softened in the most wonderful way.

"W-where is it?" she asked faintly. "How old is it? Is it a boy or a—"

"Don't you understand?" He flung the words at her. "It's gone!"

Gone?
Laney could do no more than mouth the word.

"It wasn't my choice." Jeb heaved himself to his feet and strode angrily to the far end of the porch, where he stood with his back to her and stared out into the darkness. "But that doesn't make me any less guilty, especially since I paid for her to—" He halted and released a ragged sigh. When he turned and looked at Laney with tortured eyes, she knew with an awful certainty what he had done.

"She wasn't like you." His deep voice throbbed with an infinite, gut-wrenching sorrow. "Laney, she wasn't anything like you. She didn't want a baby. And I
 
.
 
.
 
." He lifted his eyes to the ceiling, his Adam's apple rising and falling as he struggled for control. "I was relieved. So I gave her money for the—the procedure, plus some extra so she could take a nice trip somewhere and forget." He shook his head. "But people don't forget that kind of thing, do they?"

"No," The word barely squeaked out of her throat. "I don't think they do, Jeb."

He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. "So tell me again what a good man I am." He barked out a savage laugh. "Tell me again that I'm a hero."

His self-loathing broke Laney's heart. Tears blurred her vision, but she did her best to blink them away.

She had to make him understand that he could have forgiveness for this. She hadn't forgotten her old agreement to refrain from proselytizing him, but things were different now. He'd been going to church with her, and last night at the Bible study, he had actually held the Word of God in his hands and followed along as Pastor Ted pointed out verses in Galatians.

He opened his eyes and regarded her with a sad smile. "Look at you," he said softly, wonderingly. "I've committed about the worst sin a fatherless girl like you can imagine, and you don't even hate me for it."

"I hate what you did." Laney swiped a tear from her cheek. "But I could never hate you, Jeb. And—" She hesitated for only an instant. "Sins can be forgiven, you know."

His mouth fell open and his head tilted back, as though he'd just recalled something important. When he spoke, it was with quiet conviction.

"Yes. I know."

Hope unfurled in Laney's heart. Did he mean that the way it sounded? Had the Tuesday night Bible lessons and the Sunday morning sermons begun to sink in?

He returned to the chaise but stood behind it, his hands resting on its tall back. "My father taught me there was nothing worth believing in," he said with obvious difficulty. "Not God. Not
 
love." His hands curled around the chaise's braided wicker edging and Laney heard a faint crackling as he squeezed it. "But then you barged into my life. And there was your mother, too. And both of you
 
.
 
.
 
. loved me. Even when I did stupid things."

"Real love isn't conditional, Jeb. You don't stop loving somebody when they disappoint you."

"I think you've proven that." His hands visibly relaxed on the back of the chaise. "Still, apart from the two of you, I've never believed in or trusted anybody." His gaze drifted away as he added, "Until just recently."

Trepidation folded icy arms around Laney. Was Jeb talking about a woman? After all these years, had he finally met someone special and fallen in love? And if so, why had he denied it that night at Willie's?

"Laney." He paced back to the far end of the porch. "There's something I need to tell you. The reason I came home."

No
. She wanted to stop her ears, but she made herself sit still and wait.

He turned to face her. "I meant to tell you as soon as I got here. And then every day after that. But the time just never seemed—" He dropped his head and rubbed the back of his neck. Then he caught her expression and grinned. "Don't look so worried. It's something good. You're going to be happy for me."

Happy for him. Yes, she would try.

Oh Lord
, she pleaded silently, desperately.
Help me to be happy for him, even if it breaks my heart.

He walked past her again. Laney had to bite her lip to keep from
snapping at him to
just stand
still
for a minute and spit out whatever it was that he meant to tell her. This agony was unbearable.

He stopped in front of the hot tub and turned suddenly, decisively. "Laney, five days before I came home, I gave my heart—"

She fought the impulse to squeeze her eyes shut. She could stand this. She could stand anything if it made Jeb happy.

"—to God," he finished.

"To—" No, she couldn't have heard that correctly.

Grinning, he spread his arms like a circus performer inviting applause. "So I'm a Christian now."

"Oh," Laney said faintly. It seemed to take forever for her mind to switch gears, and then—

"
Oh!
" she squealed. "Oh, Jeb!" She rocketed out of her chair to give him a hug.

As she collided with him, he laughed and staggered back a step. Realizing that she'd knocked him against the side of the hot tub, which was no higher than his knees, she immediately let go and backed away so he could regain his balance.

He didn't. For a breathless instant his long arms
windmilled
frantically, and then he pitched over the edge. He hit the water with a mighty splash and went under.

As giant waves sluiced over the rim of the tub, Laney had the presence of mind to snatch his guitar from the tile floor before the spreading puddles could reach it.

Jeb came up laughing. "I was perfectly willing to be baptized, princess, but you could have given me some warning." Tilting his head to one side, he twisted a finger in his ear to dislodge some water.

Instead of climbing out, he took a seat on the far side of the tub. Stretching his arms along its rim, he smiled serenely.

Laney's gaze clung to his for several seconds, and then with calm deliberation, she laid his guitar on the chaise. She shucked her cardigan and dropped it there, too, and then she slipped out of her loafers. As Jeb watched silently, his dark eyebrows elevated in amusement, she mounted the three steps on the outside of the tub and slowly descended into the hot water.

Unlike Jeb, who was a plunger, Laney was a toe-dipper who needed time to get used to the water's temperature. Going down another step, she sucked a sharp breath through her teeth.
Hot
.

Gritting her teeth
, she adapted to the shock. Then she stepped all the way in. Carefully arranging the skirt of her dress so it wouldn't billow immodestly around her, she took a seat opposite Jeb.

"Tell me everything," she urged. "Every single thing, from the beginning."

"From the beginning," he repeated thoughtfully. With both hands, he skimmed back his dripping hair. "'In the beginning was the Word. And the Word was God, and the Word was with God. And—'"

"That's the Gospel of John!" Laney pressed her hands over her heart, which seemed to be trying to thump its way right out of her chest.

Jeb talked nonstop for several minutes. Amazed and delighted by his news and by his unprecedented volubility, Laney could have listened for hours. But when he reached the end of his story, he got up, held out a hand to her, and said she'd better go home and change into some dry clothes.

"I have a bunch of questions for you," he added as they climbed out of the tub, water running off their clothes and splashing noisily onto the already wet floor. "But they'll keep. You couldn't have slept much last night, and you've had a rough day."

"I'm fine, Jeb." She grabbed two plush towels from the stack on a nearby shelf and pushed one at his chest.

"Princess, you're exhausted." He shook the folds out of the towel she'd given him and swung it around her shoulders like a cape. "Go and get changed while I order our pizza and clean up this mess." He began unbuttoning his sodden flannel shirt. "You should have something to eat and then make it an early night."We can talk more tomorrow."

"No, tomorrow night I'm going to the Cities with Megan. She won two tickets to the Saint Paul Chamber Orchestra, and Luke hates classical music. She's really looking forward to it, Jeb, and there's nobody else to go with her."

He peeled off his shirt and let it fall to the floor
, where i
t landed with a heavy splat. "Friday, then."

Laney's mouth opened, but her train of thought was derailed when she noticed how his wet T-shirt clung to the fascinating contours of his chest and shoulders.
She'd seen him
in
a swimsuit lots of times, but somehow she had never realized he was so—

She yanked her mind off that thought and carefully fixed her gaze on his face. "Sorry, but on Friday I'm having a working supper with my accountant at the tearoom."

"Saturday. The French place?" He crossed his arms over his chest. For warmth, no doubt, but Laney was grateful for the move because it helped her remember to keep her eyes above his neck.

"Saturday is
my friend Diana's wedding. And even if I could talk you into going, I
didn't R.S.V.P. for a guest." Laney shivered as another gust of cold air swept across the porch and went right through her wet dress.

Frowning, Jeb took the towel she'd forgotten she was holding and put that one around her, too. "But we're going to church on Sunday."

"Absolutely!" Laney grasped the edges of the towels and pulled
them
more tightly around her. "Maybe we could have a celebratory brunch after. But I have a baby shower at four o'clock."

"Of course you do," he said dryly.

She grinned. "I know. When did I get so popular, right? My schedule's just unusually full for the next several days. I won't even get my day off on Monday because I'm participating in a wedding planning seminar at a country club in Minneapolis." Tilting her head to one side, she gave him a hopeful look. "But I should be home by five, so we could have supper at Willie's. And I won't be so busy next week, so—" She stopped, puzzled by the wariness creeping into Jeb's silvery eyes, and then it hit her: He had already been home for two weeks, and his visits rarely lasted even that long.

She bit her lip and stared down at her hands, which were clutching the towels around her. Her knuckles looked white.

"We'll have to play that by ear," Jeb said quietly. "I'm still trying to figure out what to do about the band. My attorney's on vacation in South America and won't be back for a few more days, so at this point I don't even know what my options are."

He put a finger under Laney's chin and lifted her face. His gaze dipped briefly to her lips, then snapped back to her eyes. Was he thinking about kissing her, or was he just remembering—and regretting—last night's kiss?

"I'll go to church with you again this Sunday," he said. "I hope to stay longer, but I can't promise anything right now."

Yes, all right. She wouldn't make herself crazy watching the calendar and wondering how much longer he'd stick around. After the good news she'd heard a little while ago, she ought to be rejoicing, instead.

He must have seen that resolution in her eyes, because he lowered his hand and smiled. "Now get out of here."

She crammed her wet feet into her loafers. Holding her towel-cape secure with one hand, she scooped up her bag and her sweater and hurried out the door Jeb held open for her.

She was freezing, so she broke into a run. And with every long, pounding stride, she gave thanks to the Lord.