Living With Lies Trilogy (Books 1, 2, and 3 of The Dancing Moon Ranch Series) (2 page)

"I don't need your help," Grace snapped.

"You're carrying my son and you're unsteady on your feet so I'll walk with you," the man said, his hand still clamped to her arm.

Grace snatched her elbow from his grasp. "I may be carrying your son because of no fault on either of our parts, but you have no claim on him just because you deposited semen in a cup. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go to the bathroom since
my
son is resting on my bladder." She started down the hallway.

"Depositing semen in a cup holds as much sway in determining parenthood as sexual intercourse," Jack said, following behind. "I'm still your child's biological father."

Grace stopped in front of the restroom and turned to face the man. "I'm afraid your legal claim begins with the false assumption that a mix up at a fertility clinic equals a sort of quasi-property claim, when in fact, you have absolutely no claim on the child I'm carrying." She marched into the restroom and shut the door, locking it quickly to keep the man from coming in. She was certain it wouldn't bother him in the least to carry on an argument with a pregnant woman sitting on a toilet.

After she'd finished, Grace took more time than necessary to wash her hands, hoping Jack would have returned to the conference room, but to her annoyance, he was waiting when she opened the door. "I have a biological right to be connected with my son," he continued on the same treadmill. "If necessary, I'll sue to establish paternal rights."

"And I know about artificial insemination rights and they favor the mother," Grace snapped, although she knew nothing at all about insemination law. But she did know that this man would not be telling her how to raise her son. She quickened her pace.

Jack matched her strides while ramming his point home. "Oregon law doesn't favor the mother if the man is a father without consent," he said, "and whereas I gave up my rights to my brother and sister-in-law, I never gave up my rights to a stranger!"

"Then get used to the idea," Grace said, "because that's the way it's going to be!"

"The hell it is!"

Damn, but the man was persistent. So much for Marc's jovial personality. Grace stopped and turned, her eyes sweeping down the length of the man, returning to his face. Which had nothing of Marc's blond hair and blue eyes.

Tears welled, and before she could stop herself, she burst out crying. Jack put his hand on her shoulder, but she shook it off. "Don't touch me," she sobbed. "Because of you my child won't look anything like my husband." She raced back into the restroom, closing herself inside until she was exhausted from crying. After pressing a wet paper towel against her eyes, and blotting another to her face, she blew her nose, then sucked in a long breath to steady her nerves, and prepared to face the father of her child. And the parents of Marc's child.

When she reentered the conference room, she sat at the table while avoiding Jack's stare by focusing on the attorney, who was saying to Sam, "Under Oregon Artificial Insemination Law, a man married to an artificially inseminated woman is the legal father, so the child your wife is carrying is your legal child."

"And the child Mrs. Templeton's carrying," Jack asked. "Who is that child's legal father?"

"It can be difficult for a sperm donor to establish paternity if the mother doesn't want him involved, since being a donor usually implies the man giving up all rights," the attorney replied, "but if you want to claim paternal rights you should submit a
Notice of Intent to Claim Paternity
with your district court, which demonstrates your willingness to be involved with your child, then file a
Notification of Filing a
Petition of Filiation
. Filing documents establishes you as the father, if the mother doesn't contest it, which will pave the way for visitation and custody. Child support will also be determined."

Grace caught Jack's eye long enough to realized that filing the papers the attorney mentioned was exactly what he intended to do. Which meant, she'd be forced to get an attorney to contest it. She also realized she had absolutely no claim on Marc's child, who was conceived with sperm that belonged to her alone. But Marc had turned in only one sample, so now she would never be able to conceive his child.  

Her attention was diverted when the attorney offered the envelopes around the table. There would be a check inside, like Jack predicted. How much would the loss of Marc's child be worth? And how much was the life of Sam and Susan's child worth? And Jack? He'd given up all rights to Susan and Sam, but now he was prepared to fight in court for the right to intercede in raising her child, and make her life miserable.

Holding that thought, Grace opened the envelope and stared at a check for fifty-thousand dollars. At first she was tempted to take the check and walk out, but when Sam slapped his check on the table in front of the attorney, and Jack tore his up and tossed the pieces in the air, she reconsidered. The fact was, four people had been thrown into an impossible situation created by human error, and no amount of money could fix it.

And then the sharpest pain Grace could imagine gripped low in her belly. She clenched her jaws, but when the pain subsided, she lifted herself out of the chair, grabbed her handbag, dragged her quilted down jacket from the back of the chair and left the room. Although she was unsteady on her feet, she was determined to drive herself home on snow-covered roads, call the birthing center, and crawl into bed. She had no idea what caused the pain, other than distress over the situation. Feeling lightheaded as she walked through the waiting room, she dropped her jacket on a chair and sat down, then closed her eyes and waited for the room to settle.

"Are you okay?"

She didn't have to open her eyes to know who
that
was. "Yes. I'm just a little dizzy," she said, continuing to sit with her eyes closed.

"Where are you going?" Jack asked.

"Home," Grace replied. "Now will you please just leave me alone."

"How did you get here?"

"I drove!" Grace snapped, wishing the man would go.

"You can't drive if you're dizzy," Jack said. "I can drive you to your house and my brother can pick me up there." 

Another pain started. Grace gripped her belly, clamped her jaws, took several deep breaths, and waited for the pain to pass. Knowing there was no way she could drive on snowy roads, and anxious to get out of this place and crawl into bed, she eyed the man closely. He had an honest face, his brother and sister-in-law seemed like decent people, and he
had
donated sperm to save his critically-ill nephew.

Feeling another pain coming, she clenched her teeth and waited until it passed, then said, "I suppose that would be okay." She rummaged in her hand bag for the keys and gave them to Jack, who shoved them into the pocket of his sheepskin parka and left the room to tell the others what was going on. When he returned, he offered Grace his arm, which she accepted, and when she was steady on her feet, he helped her into her jacket then walked with her out into the cold. Snow had started falling heavily while they were in the clinic and it was building up quickly on the roads, and she was relieved she wouldn't have to drive.

"Where's your car?" Jack asked.

"There." Grace pointed to her VW Bug, just outside the clinic.

After helping Grace into the passenger seat, Jack folded his large frame behind the wheel, then adjusted the driver's seat as far back as it could go, and said, "Where to?"

Grace couldn't answer because another pain had started, nor could she stop the grimace, or the need to clutch her belly.

"We need to get you to the hospital," Jack said.

"No, just drive me home so I can get in bed. Ohhh... umm." She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and held it as the pain peaked. When it began to subside, she said, "Turn right out of the parking lot and I'll direct you to my house."

Jack shoved the key in the ignition, started the car, and turned left.

"Where are you going?" Grace asked. "My house is the other way."

"But the hospital's this way."

"I'm not going to have this baby in a hospital," Grace said. "I'm having him at home."

"Not if you're having him right now," Jack replied. He geared down, made a sharp turn, and shot forward, veering around a car as he headed toward the on-ramp to the freeway.

Grace gritted her teeth, not from the pain, but from the stubbornness of a man she hadn't known existed two hours before, who was now the father of her child. A man who seemed determined to be a part of her life, at least until Marc Jr. was eighteen.

It hit her then that she was not carrying Marc Jr. There was nothing of her husband in the child in her belly, and she knew nothing about the father of her child, other than he was the size of a mountain man, and his child was the size of a mountain man's son. Tears welled, and she turned her head away from Jack so he couldn't see.

"It's going to be okay," Jack said, and reached over to squeeze her hand.

Which shocked her so much Grace jerked her hand away, using the gesture as an excuse to mop her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said. "Pregnant women get emotional. And for heaven 's sake, slow down. There's snow on the road."

"You have studded tires and I'm used to driving on snow," Jack said, while weaving around a car to get into the fast lane. "We need to get you to the hospital. How do you feel now?"

"I feel like screaming because you're so bullheaded," Grace said. "I asked you to slow down and you shot forward. I'm not in labor, I don't need to go to the hospital, and I want to go home and get in bed."

Jack pulled off at the next exit, cruised along the frontage road, and turned into the emergency access to Portland General Hospital, pulling to a halt at the entrance. A nurse came out with a wheelchair and opened the door. "Come on, honey," she said, seeing Grace's large belly. "We'll get you inside and have the doctor take a look." She poked her head in the car and said to Jack, "There's emergency parking to your left." The nurse helped Grace into the wheelchair and they headed through the automatic glass doors.

"He's not my husband," Grace explained as the nurse wheeled her into the curtained cubicle of an examination room.

"Is he the father of your child?" the nurse asked.

"Well yes." Another sharp pain hit, this time stronger, longer.

"Let's get you into a hospital gown," the nurse said, helping Grace onto the exam table.

Grace didn't reply, because the pain had not let up. She started breathing the way she'd been taught in childbirth classes. In... and out... In... and out... In... and out...

"You okay?" the nurse asked. "You're breathing heavy."

"It's the way... we're taught... in childbirth... classes," Grace said, between breaths.

"Lemaze?"

"No... the... Bradley... Method."  In... and out... In... and out.

"We have a natural birthing room here, and there are classes on the Bradley Method, and midwives on staff," the nurse said, while helping Grace out of her clothes. "A lot of couples choose the Bradley Method. It's good having fathers involved from the start, and when they aid in birthing by helping their infant into the world there's instant bonding. The mother also needs a strong hand to hold when hard labor hits."

"Yes, but in my case—" Grace stopped short as another sharp pain cut in. Between what she now realized were contractions, and while she continued breathing as instructed, the nurse managed to get a hospital gown around her, and left.

While she lay on the table waiting for the doctor, Grace realized that even though the child she was carrying was not Marc's child, he was still her little boy, a child who'd been growing inside her for seven and a half months, and who's heart was beating strongly, and little foot was pressed against her belly, and tiny thumb had been in his mouth when she saw the ultrasound. And now it made no difference who his father was, she wanted her little boy more than she'd wanted anything in her life. But if he came into the world now, he'd have to struggle for his life because it was too soon.

Someone knocked and peeked around the curtain. "I'm here to check you in." A woman with a clipboard stepped into the room. After asking the necessary questions, and having Grace sign several forms, the woman snapped a plastic bracelet around Grace's wrist, and said, "Just relax, Mrs. Templeton. The doctor will be in soon," then left the room.

Grace had just recovered from another sharp pain when a nurse, and a doctor with a thick white mustache and the face of a kindly grandfather, entered the room. The doctor gave Grace a look of calm reassurance, and said, "Well, Mrs. Templeton, it seems someone's trying to make an early entrance. Let's take a look." The doctor positioned his hands on her belly just as a pain started. "Early labor," he mused. "Not Braxton-Hicks." After palpating her stomach, he placed Grace's feet in the stirrups and draped a sheet over her.

He had just finished the pelvic exam and removed her feet from the stirrups when the nurse, who'd wheeled Grace into the hospital and helped her into her gown, entered the room and said, "Dr. Irwin, this is the baby's father. They've been attending birthing classes, the Bradley Method.

"Come on in, young man," the doctor said.