Authors: Carol Burnside
“Sorry. You know I feel the same. This whole thing has thrown me. How are you holding up?”
She shook her head, her eyes moist. A strand of chin-length blonde hair swung forward across her cheek. She tucked it behind her ear and cleared her throat. “What about you? Do you need help with the arrangements?”
“Everything’s done. I scheduled the memorial service for Saturday. The coroner’s office should release them to the crematory tomorrow.”
“I don’t see how you stood it.”
“I’m ... numb.” And he’d just as soon stay that way.
“I’m surprised the press hasn’t found you. There were two reporters waiting for me at the airport. I didn’t expect that.”
“How did you get rid of them?”
“I think that shuttle driver must’ve been a former linebacker. He whisked me past them like they didn’t exist. I hope they’re not bothering Miss Morrisey. Have you checked on her?”
Rio frowned, trying to remember where he’d heard the name. “Who?”
“James and Allie’s surrogate. How’s she taking this? Is the baby okay?”
Blood swooshed to his feet. Sweat popped out across his forehead and upper lip, and black dots obscured his mom’s face. Then he was staring at the leather footrest of his recliner, his head between his knees.
So much for numb.
“Don’t move,” his mother ordered in a tone he hadn’t heard since high school. “I’ll get you a glass of water.”
He had no intention of moving. Not until his legs regained solid form and the tilt-a-whirl in his head came to a full stop. Damn. He’d never had this kind of reaction, not even when a rhino had charged his safari vehicle full of shocked, cringing tourists.
He’d drained the glass and set it aside before his mother spoke from her position on one end of a brown suede sofa. “You did know they have a baby on the way? According to Allie, it’s due in a few weeks.”
Rio groaned. “Don’t remind me. Squires
mentioned they’d named me guardian in their will. What were they thinking?”
“Probably that you’re a responsible, thirty-year-old, compassionate adult who’s had plenty of adventure in his life and should be ready to settle down.”
“That was a pretty little speech, if a bit practiced, but it won’t sway me. There’s no way I’m raising a kid. Anyone with half a brain could see you’re the logical one for that task.”
“Except that I’ll be on Social Security when this child is in primary school. Even if I had the energy for dealing with two o’clock feedings or a rambunctious toddler, which I don’t, I wouldn’t dream of going against James and Allie’s wishes. Face it, son, you’re going to be a father.”
“Uncle,” he corrected her. “I’ll never be any kid’s father.”
“Not even to Bear’s only grandchild? His last surviving heir?” The words spilled softly into the room, throwing a neat noose around Rio’s neck.
“Now you’re playing dirty, Mom.” Rio had resented his mother marrying Albert “Bear” Hawthorne, feared him, until he’d finally accepted that the Grizzly-sized man had a heart as soft as a Teddy bear.
His stepfather had treated him no differently than James, adopted him, gave him a name to be proud of, loved him and taught him what being a real man was all about. But most of all, Bear had never laid an angry hand on any of them, regardless of how badly they’d vexed him.
If only he could be sure Bear’s influence had erased his biological father’s abusive traits. What if he harbored Hank’s propensity for cruelty?
“Sweetheart, I know what you’re thinking, but you’re not like your father.”
Rio leaned forward, forearms on knees, and shook his head. “You don’t know that.”
“A mother knows her own son. Besides, you’re not just Hank’s son, you’re mine too. Remember that.”
“Mom, please. Take the kid. If not for me, then for its sake. I’ll help you in every way I can. Just don’t ask me to do this.”
“It’s your brother who’s doing the asking. He’s entrusted you with the most precious thing in his life. I wouldn’t dream of going against his dying wishes.”
“You don’t fight fair.”
She rose to her feet, took his hand in a firm grip and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not fighting you, dear. I’m simply reiterating the reality of the situation. Now, I’m going upstairs to rest. The early morning flight and this mile-high air has taken its toll.”
He’d wager that two sudden deaths in the family factored in her fatigue more than the air. Rio looked closer. More silver filtered through her blonde hair than he’d ever noticed. Fine lines fanned out from her eyes, and she’d lost weight in the last year since he’d been gone. A pity he hadn’t gotten more of her looks and less of Hank’s. Maybe if he looked in the mirror and didn’t see so much of the bastard, he wouldn’t worry about having also received his less desirable traits.
Maybe his mom wasn’t the perfect guardian for Bear’s grandchild, but neither was he. There had to be an alternate choice that didn’t involve him stepping into that role.
A half hour later, plagued by the unshakable feeling this baby noose was too tight to escape, Rio paced in front of the living room’s double-wide window. Occasionally he stopped to stare at what passing traffic he could see through the iron gates kept open during the day. It was at such a moment that a new hybrid vehicle pulled into the driveway and parked.
A sun glare covered the driver’s window. Nervous fingers on the steering wheel were the only movement he could see through the windshield. Using all eight fingers, then switching to indexes only, the driver kept up a steady beat. Drum-drum-drum-tap-tap-tap-tap. Abruptly, the rhythm stopped and the driver’s door swung open. A young woman emerged, swathed in a voluminous blue poncho over jeans and suede boots.
She squared her shoulders and lifted a determined chin, the striking combination of her near-black cap of hair against creamy skin causing a hitch in his breathing pattern. Striding forward, she stopped near the porch and glanced around as if expecting to be pursued, then completed her approach.
Rio dashed to the door, swinging it wide before she could ring the doorbell and wake his mom. “Hey.”
Her dark eyes widened. “It’s you. You’re him. I mean ...” She made a little sound of disgust. “I’m babbling.”
“You make it look cute.” Cute? That couldn’t have come from his mouth.
“Cute as a beached whale. We should probably introduce ourselves. I’m Kate.”
“Rio.” He shook her hand, hating that she withdrew it so fast. She was really attractive, even if she did have body image issues.
“Ah ... could I come in? We need to talk, what with me carrying your baby and all.”
He swallowed, his gaze following her left hand now resting across a definite lump underneath the roomy poncho. His jaw fell slack. “Y-you’re Katherine?”
“Morrisey. Yes. But I prefer Kate. May I come in?”
“Uh, sure.” Rio couldn’t take his gaze off her stomach and the ripple moving across its extended surface. She stepped inside and closed the door.
“Do you need to sit down? You look a little pale, and I’m in no shape to try and break your fall. Besides, a big guy like you could smash something, and Allie will kill you if ... oh.” Kate blinked rapidly and swayed a little.
He reached to support her.
She threw her hands up to ward him off, her fingers curling into tight fists. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Sometimes I forget too. Come on. Let’s both sit down.” This time he gestured toward the sofa and kept his hands clear of her personal space. He could claim it was because she’d avoided his touch, but truthfully, the whole baby thing knotted his stomach.
He’d stalked the “big five,” which included some of Africa’s most dangerous game, across the Serengeti, in South Africa and Zimbabwe so folks could admire them and take photographs. Lions, leopards and elephants, he could face. But keep the babies and pregnant women at a distance.
“What’s wrong with me. I should’ve expressed my condolences for your loss, first.”
“It’s okay and ... thanks. I’m never sure what the correct response should be. It’s awkward all around, don’t you think?”
“Yes. And speaking of awkward, you’re staring. Haven’t you ever seen a pregnant woman before?”
“Sure. Just never thought about having to take care of the end product.”
Kate bit back a grin. “Ah, that would be a baby.”
She placed her hand over the mound that looked too small to hold a nearly full-term baby and her brows drew close. “I’m sorry to bring this up so soon. I promised myself I’d give you two days to come to grips with the situation, but I didn’t sleep well last night. Then those reporters rushed up to me at the end of my morning walk.”
“At your house?”
“Duplex. Yes. That’s when I realized we’re in this together, you and me. Instead of birth parents, he has an uncle waiting to welcome him into the world.” She rubbed the baby bump again. “James once told me this was a family home, not solely his, so I took a chance you’d be staying here.”
“He? You know it’s a boy?” Rio wasn’t about to explain why the baby wasn’t a blood relation of his either. Bear had never split hairs, so why should he?
“That’s what the doctor told us. James and Allie and me. Now you’re his guardian.”
His
guardian. She talked about the baby as if it were a little person already, and Rio supposed it was. He stared into eyes so dark the pupils were indistinguishable from the irises. Seductive. If a guy were into pregnant women. Which he wasn’t. Absolutely not. Obviously, he’d been away on safari too long this last time.
Rio shifted his gaze, staring at a small mint green bag on the dining room table. He couldn’t look at Kate and the swell beneath her poncho, didn’t want to see her concern and know he was the cause, nor hear the sadness when she spoke of his brother and sister-in-law.
What were you thinking, James, taking risks when you had a child coming
?
She spied the bag and crossed the room to it, reached in and withdrew a tiny one-piece, pajama-looking thing. Too tiny. He looked at his hands with their long, thick fingers and shuddered.
“I thought we might talk about how you envision this playing out.” There was an edge of desperation growing in her voice he didn’t want to hear either.
“Truthfully, I haven’t a clue.” Rio pushed to his feet. “These walls are closing in on me. If you want to talk, let’s do it outside.”
*
*
*
*
*
H
aving never been past the formal living quarters of Hawthorne House, Kate had no idea the grounds behind it were so large. The pale gray brick home, offset from the street a good ways, and the breezeway-attached garage blocked most of the back yard. A small cottage sat to the left behind the main house, separated by a narrow sidewalk. Her nerves stretched tighter when minutes went by and Rio didn’t speak.
He stood with his back to the house and her, an imposing figure in rugged boots, soft jeans and a khaki shirt. When he’d stared at her earlier, she’d been surprised to see his eyes were a silvery gray. She’d expected hazel or brown like his hair. The contrast of warm and cool unsettled her.
She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to discover what held his attention.
Two large evergreens stood guard at the back corners of the lot, linked by a row of Bradford pears whose naked limbs wavered in the chilly air. As with most lawns in this semi-arid climate, wide outer borders of the area were filled in with landscaping materials to conserve water. In this case, irregular slabs of natural slate had been fitted together like a jigsaw puzzle, leaving space around the plantings for care and growth.
Oh, to heck with it. There was nothing interesting about a barren wintery landscape. The man was ignoring her. She took a seat on a cushioned chaise, warmed by the sun. “You do understand he’s not mine. This fetus is closer related to you than it is me. When he’s born —” Kate stopped herself, a bubble of panic rising in her throat.
Rio pivoted to look at her. She tried again without the strident demand in her voice. “You have to take their baby. He’s yours now. Part of your family. I’m the incubator, nothing more.”
His eyes narrowed. “If you’re so anxious to be rid of it, why did you agree to have the baby in the first place?”
Kate fought not to react. She leveled her gaze on him and squinted slightly, trying to understand his beef with her. “It’s not like I got pregnant having illicit sex and chose not to abort it. This was a business deal. A transaction. In exchange for a sum of money, I agreed to have James and Allie’s fetus implanted in my uterus, where I would safeguard and nourish it until its birth.”
“Is that why you did this? For the money?”
Ri-i-ight. Like morning sickness, stretch marks and swollen ankles — not to mention labor and delivery — were a thrill ride to riches. But Rio Hawthorne’s opinion of her shouldn’t matter one way or the other. Let him think what he would. “I had my reasons. Money was part of it.”
“I’ll bet. It seems to me you had a lot of reasons and all of them green. A tidy sum at the beginning and if I remember what Squires said, an additional sum when the pregnancy was confirmed.”
What an arrogant ass. They came from money and she didn’t, ergo she must be bilking them? She lifted her chin. “A girl needs to eat. James and Allie insisted I not work during the pregnancy. And if you must know, I’m to receive the bulk of the amount agreed upon after delivery.”