Mad About You (25 page)

She wiped her mouth with the side of her hand and cleared her throat. "Then he came over, and when he told me they'd found Bailey, Jr."—her voice escalated—"I didn't know what to say." She offered him a watery smile, and his heart tripped. "Eight long years I've been waiting to hear those words, and I didn't know what to say."

Bailey ground his teeth. He ought to have been there, if only to comfort Virginia as he should have eight years before. "I'm sorry, Ginny," he said, his pet name for her slipping out. "I'm so sorry." He slowed his step and reached for her hand to squeeze it.

She stopped abruptly and stared at their hands. "Sorry?" Her forehead crumpled. "You're sorry they found our child?"

Bailey searched for the right words. "No, I'm not sorry this nightmare is finally over. I'm just so sorry you had to hear the bad news alone."

"Bad news?" Ginny looked confused for a few seconds, then her eyes rounded in astonishment. "Oh, Bailey,
I...
I mean,
you...
I thought you realized..."

Now it was his turn to be confused. "Realized what?"

"Bailey." She searched his eyes, her voice filled with wonder. "Our son is
alive
."

Chapter Two

BAILEY STOOK STOCK-STILL. His voice seemed paralyzed. He felt his mouth open and close, but no sound came out. Ginny's face faded in and out of focus, and for a few seconds he thought he might pass out. Her words were too incredible to be true. "What...
how..."
A passerby jostled his arm, startling him. The man apologized and kept moving.

"I need to sit down," she said, her chin quavering. Bailey looked up and saw they were only a few steps from the coffee shop. He grabbed her hand and led her to the door. For a full minute she clasped his hand tightly, and Bailey felt a strange stirring in his midsection.
Just like old times.

They claimed a booth, sitting across from each other. He relinquished her hand reluctantly. Ginny sighed as she sank into the plush upholstery. She looked exhausted. Pink rings glowed around her eyes, nose, and lips. Bailey felt a rush of sympathy for her, but couldn't wait any longer for answers. "Ginny, what's going on?"

She inhaled deeply, still clenching the shredded tissue in her hand. "Detective Lance received a call from Fort Lauderdale this morning. A woman there passed away a few weeks ago, and before she died, she told a nurse she'd taken her son from a grocery store in Columbus, Ohio, as an infant." Her voice choked, and she bit her bottom lip to steady herself.

Bailey reached for her hand again, wanting to comfort her, but she pulled back and straightened her shoulders. "I'm all right," she said bluntly.

I'm not. Let me touch you, let me share.
He lowered his hands to grip the sides of the small table, but his equilibrium still seemed off. Ginny's lips moved slowly, and he concentrated fiercely on the words coming out.

"After the woman died, the nurse reported the conversation to the authorities. When the Fort Lauderdale police could find no proof the woman had given birth, they ran a computer search on unsolved kidnappings. When they contacted the Columbus police, Detective Lance took over." She swallowed audibly. "He said he wanted to be sure before he got our hopes up, but apparently the boy's fingerprints match our son's, and the DNA sample they took at the time of the kidnapping is a match, too." Her voice turned squeaky on the last words, and she smiled tremulously at Bailey.

Panic twisted in his gut, the one question he'd worn threadbare in his mind leaping out. "Was he... abused?"

She shook her head vigorously. "No, thank God."

He released a pent-up breath and dragged a hand over his face. After being emotionally detached from everything and everyone in his life for nearly a decade, the events of the past few minutes made him feel as if he'd been fileted, with his heart on display. "I can't believe it… I just can't believe it." He spread his hands, desperate for firm ground. "What happens next?"

Her lips parted slightly. "What happens next?" Her voice was incredulous. She straightened, her back pressed against the bench seat. "I'm going to Florida to get my child. Mom and Dad are flying down with me tomorrow morning. I came to see if you wanted to go with us."

His anger flared at her insinuation. Could she possibly think he wouldn't want to claim his son? "Of course I'm going," he blustered. "I'm his father. I didn't mean to sound as if
...
oh, hell, I don't know what I meant." He leaned back into the cushion and glanced around the half-empty cafe. "This has thrown me for a loop, Ginny. I'm sorry if I'm not saying all the things you want me to."

She pursed her lips. "I'm familiar with your coping strategies, Bailey."

Her remark pierced his chest like a sleek blade.

"What can I get you folks?" a bespectacled young man asked.

"Two black coffees," Bailey said, his tone more abrupt than he'd intended.

"Excuse me," Ginny said as the man turned to leave. "Make mine decaf with cream." The waiter nodded, then disappeared. She turned to Bailey and lifted her chin slightly. "Things change, Bailey."

He passed a hand through his hair and sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Another good point. I suppose we need to get caught up on each other's lives before we can decide how we're going to handle this, uh"—he floundered for a few seconds—"parenting arrangement." A thought struck him and his pulse jumped as his gaze flew to her left hand. "Are you married?"

"No. Are you?"

He told himself the news cheered him because it meant fewer complications. "No." Indicating her attire with a sweep of his hand, he said, "You appear to be doing well for yourself."

"I'm a systems analyst for a brokerage firm."

"What exactly is a systems analyst?"

"I design computer systems—my specialty is stock analysis."

She'd always been smart and creative, but he was a little surprised. He angled his head toward her. "You? Computers?"

She bristled. "I went back to college and earned a degree in computer science."

Years earlier he'd resented the untimely interruption of their impromptu marriage—he hadn't considered at the time that Virginia also sacrificed dreams. "It's great that you finished your degree. I just figured you'd still be sculpting."

She smoothed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I wanted to be self-reliant, so I chose something with more stability."

Ginny looked a picture of independence, he had to admit. He could see her at work, all prim and aloof, with none of her coworkers suspecting that beneath the stuffy business suit lay a warm, sumptuous body—

"Here you go," the waiter said, setting down two steaming mugs. "Can I get you folks something to eat?"

Bailey looked at Ginny. "Did you have dinner?"

"There wasn't time."

"Me either. How about some soup?"

She shook her head, a movement that highlighted her sharp collarbones. He felt a twinge of concern. "Ginny, you look exhausted. Eat."

Her shoulders rounded slightly, and she nodded. "Okay." The young man bustled off to get them the house special. She swung her long legs around to slide from the booth seat. "I'm going to find the ladies' room."

Bailey tried to not watch the way her body moved as she walked away from him, but he couldn't help it. He wouldn't have believed it possible to still miss her so much after so many years.

* * *

Virginia shut the ladies' room door behind her and exhaled all of the air out of her lungs. After a few shaky steps toward the tiny vanity, she gratefully sank into a lone chair, then leaned forward to bury her head in her arms.

This morning she would have sworn she could handle anything life handed her, but she had been completely unprepared for the day's news. At thirty, she was about to become an instant mother to an eight-year-old she didn't even know. Topped with the knowledge she would have to forge a new relationship with Bailey Kallihan, she felt as if she had been plunged into a dark lake and left flailing for the surface.

Virginia raised her head and peered at herself in the mirror. In the wee hours of sleepless nights, she'd harbored fantasies of being in a stunning gown and on the arm of a gorgeous man when and if she ever laid eyes on Bailey again—not looking like a resurrected corpse in a business suit. With shaking hands she withdrew a silver lipstick case and determinedly drew color back onto her mouth.

It had taken her years to get over him. And when his rambling letter of apology had arrived at her parents' house two years before, old wounds had ruptured. Obviously written during a roaring drunk, he'd expressed regret over blaming her for their son's disappearance, and for calling her a careless mother. But instead of feeling absolved, Virginia had been overwhelmed with sadness that they were both still wrestling with lingering guilt and anger from their son's abduction and their aborted marriage.

He hadn't changed a bit. Still shaggy-haired and outlandishly handsome, still hanging out in the same bars, still driving the same old hot rod. She'd seen his black Camaro in the parking lot of the saloon. Virginia laughed a bitter laugh. And from the looks of the young woman he'd given cab fare to, commitment still ranked low on his list.

For the space of a few weeks after the birth, hope had bloomed in her chest that Bailey would be content to settle down and raise a family. Indeed, he had blazed a new trail of devoted husband and father. But when some madwoman had stolen their baby from his carrier, she'd also stolen Bailey's innocence, his optimism, and his future. Virginia had found herself married to a shell of the man she'd fallen in love with.

She'd gone looking for him tonight, desperately hoping for... what? A strong, accomplished man on whom she could rely to help raise this child. Someone who would be a good role model, someone who shared her values. But Bailey Kallihan was not father-of-the-year material. He was a willful boy in a man's body.

A body that still had the infuriating power to affect hers.

She dragged herself up and splashed cold water on her face. Slowly she dried her hands and fussed with her bangs, delaying her return as long as possible. Finally, she left to retrace her steps to the booth.

The soup had arrived in her absence and Bailey sat deep in thought, apparently waiting for her before taking a bite. Her pulse leapt absurdly at the sight of his dark profile. He'd pulled the largest portion of his black hair into a thick ponytail. He hadn’t shaved in a couple of days, and the dark stubble crept all the way down to his Adam's apple. A black long-sleeved shirt tucked into faded jeans gave him the look of a displaced cowboy, seemingly capable of playing good guy or bad.

Virginia would give a week's salary to know what he'd been thinking. Years ago, her unplanned pregnancy had interrupted Bailey's plans to launch his own landscape architectural firm. What plans had her unexpected news interrupted this time?

Her appearance startled him out of his reverie. "Where do you live?" he asked as she sat down.

"In German Village." She saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes at the mention of
the
pricey locale. "How about you? What do you do for a living?"
she
inquired, lowering
her
gaze as she lifted her cup for a sip.
The
deep blue centers of his eyes were so intense against the startling whites, she couldn't look into them for more than a few seconds. Bailey, Jr.'s eyes had been deep blue, but all babies had blue eyes at that
age....

"Still landscaping," he said. "I work for a commercial developer."

"Designing?"

"No," he said, picking up his spoon. "Just running a few crews."

Virginia's heart sank. He'd given up his dream. "That's nice," she said, breaking open a packet of crackers. "Do you still live at Shenoway?" The mere mention of his family's small farm sent stabs of longing through her chest.

He busied himself stirring the soup. "No. Sis and her husband renovated Mom and Pop's farmhouse, and we sold some of the surrounding land. I live above the saloon."

She took a bite of the dry cracker and swallowed her disappointment. They'd brought Bailey, Jr., home to the decrepit farmhouse, and Bailey had promised her they'd someday build a new home in the north meadow overlooking the pond.
With a big yard for Bailey, Jr., to run and play in as he grows up.
Now it seemed probable some other family lived in their meadow. "How is Rita?" she managed to ask.

At last he cracked a smile. "Sis is great, as always. She's married to a terrific guy, and they have a six-year-old, Jean Ann."

Virginia smiled her genuine pleasure. "I'd love to see them."

His hands stilled and she watched his eyes move over her hair and face. "She really misses you."

"I should have stayed in touch. With Rita, I mean."

"Well, I guess you'll be seeing more of her now," he said. "I guess you'll be seeing more of me too."

Virginia kept her face passive to hide the current of emotion coursing through her at the simple truth of his words.

"You're still wearing the locket I gave you," he said with surprise in his voice, pointing to the necklace she unconsciously fingered.

She glanced down at the shiny gold pendant, hoping he didn't read anything into the fact that she still wore his wedding gift. Looking up again, she shrugged slightly and smiled. "It always made me feel closer to him somehow."

He nodded. "Can I see his picture?"

Leaning forward, she stretched the long chain and extended the case toward him. He gently opened the locket and ran a finger over their son's birth picture—a shock of black hair over a little red face. When he closed the case, he turned over the locket, angling it in the light. "And baby makes three," he read aloud.