Snowbound (12 page)

After conferring with someone on the other
end of the line, the guard gestured toward the elevators. “Top
floor, Suite A. Mrs. Wyndam is expecting you.” He didn’t bother to
hide his surprise that the resident had deigned to see Reed, which
made him want to slug the other man.

Reining in his temper, he hoisted his duffle
bag—a leftover from his Army days—and strode to the elevator. It
was like a damned movie, complete with a uniformed elevator
attendant and an ostentatious gold velvet couch. He almost snorted
with disgust, but held back the impulse. Foolish waste of money to
impress folks.

On the top floor, the elevator attendant gave
him a sunny smile as she held open the door. “Have a nice day,
sir.”

“Thanks.” He muttered the reply as he left
the cab, suddenly finding his feet dragging the closer he got to
Suite A. How would Beth react to seeing him? Or Mrs. Wyndam, since
it sounded like Momma Bear was the one waiting for him. Well, if
she wouldn’t let him see Beth, he’d just camp out on their doorstep
until she relented.

He had barely rung the bell before the door
opened. Reed blinked, getting a glimpse of what his Beth might look
like in twenty years. The woman before him was petite and trim,
with waist-length blonde hair a couple shades darker than Beth’s.
To his surprise, streaks of gray were visible. Her gently lined
face suggested she hadn’t been cosmetically altered, which was
another surprise. If he’d given it much thought, he would have
expected Beth’s mother to be Botoxed, liposuctioned, and dyed to
look fifteen years younger than her true age. Not that she looked
old at all. He’d guess she was early to mid-forties, but could have
passed for a decade younger on her own merits. It was uncomfortable
to realize people would assume they were about the same age if they
saw Reed and Mrs. Wyndam together.

Any similarity ended with her eyes. Oh, they
were about the same emerald-green, but where Beth’s tended to
sparkle with warmth and cheer, this woman’s were ice-cold, clearly
denouncing him. “So, you’re the bum who broke my daughter’s
heart.”

He flinched at the accusation, but couldn’t
deny it. “Yes, ma’am.”

“What do you want?”

He almost fumbled for the letter Beth had
sent, but stopped the impulse. Despite Mrs. Wyndam leaving him
feeling like a disobedient student called into the principal’s
office, he had to act like an adult. “I want to see Beth.”

She sneered. “Why?”

“That’s between me and her.” Surely, her
mother knew about the baby. Beth had to be showing by now, but just
in case, he wasn’t revealing her secret. It was her choice when to
tell her mother.

She opened the door a bit wider and stepped
back. “Come in.”

Reed followed her inside the luxuriously
appointed lair, his senses as heightened as they had been in the
military and now were during a hunt. Only this time, he felt like
the prey.

She stopped in the foyer, near a writing
desk. Reed stood back a few steps as she wrote something. He heard
a tearing sound before she stood up and turned toward him. His hand
lifted automatically to accept the paper she thrust at him, and his
brain didn’t connect it was a check until he brought it closer. How
had she put so many zeroes in that little space? “What the hell is
this?”

“That’s for my daughter’s peace of mind. She
doesn’t need some loser who’ll bounce in and out of her life. You
take that and go.”

Reed almost retorted in anger, but glancing
at Mrs. Wyndam, he noticed she was watching him closely, as though
evaluating him. The school pupil feeling increased, only this time,
it was the same way he’d felt right before a test. After a moment,
he held up the check and ripped it in half, handing it back to her.
“I ain’t gonna bounce anywhere, Mrs. Wyndam.”

She stared at him for another minute before
nodding. “It certainly took you long enough to decide to do the
right thing, Mr. Nixon.”

His face flushed. “It ain’t no excuse for
sending her away to start with, but I just got the letter about the
baby. I came as quick as I could.”

Mrs. Wyndam seemed to believe him, judging
from her expression. With a nod, she handed him another piece of
paper.

He took it cautiously, certain he wouldn’t be
able to hold back his anger if this was another, bigger check.
Instead, it was an address. “What’s this?”

“Beth’s apartment. She moved into her own
place last month.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Thank you
for takin’ care of her. I’ll handle it from here.”

She smiled. “I’m glad to hear it, but I
didn’t take care of her.” At his look, she said, “I certainly would
have, but there’s no need. My parents left Beth her own trust,
which I signed over to her after finding out she’s going to be a
mother.” Her lips pursed. “A very young mother.”

He shifted, certain he could feel a phantom
needle tattooing “dirty old bastard” on his forehead in fluorescent
orange. “I won’t apologize for how I feel about her, but I’ll admit
she’s too young for me.”

Mrs. Wyndam surprised him with a small smile.
“I know my daughter, Mr. Nixon. She’s determined to have her own
way, so I’d say you probably never stood a chance.”

He found himself grinning. “Not really.”

“One more thing. Beth told me you’re a
snob.”

He arched a brow, shooting a glance at the
priceless artwork surrounding him. The purchase price of one of
those paintings would easily finance the long-term improvements he
had in mind for his property. “I’m a snob?”

She waved her hand. “Toward affluence. You
feel you’re better than me because you’ve worked for
everything.”

“I never said that.”

Mrs. Wyndam sniffed. “My daughter got the
idea from somewhere that you’re disdainful of wealth. It’s not my
place, but I want to see if you can be reasonable about her
inheritance. If you insist, she’ll walk away from it all and live
on your earnings, but that isn’t fair to her, the baby, or my
parents, who wanted to ensure she had a secure future.”

Reed squirmed, realizing he hadn’t even given
a second thought to Beth having her own money. His first
inclination was to insist she let him support her, but her mother’s
words gave him pause. He wasn’t the type of man who could ever let
his wife maintain him while he sat around doing nothing, but he
wouldn’t deny her the funds to make her life easier. “We’ll work it
out.”

She smiled. “Well, run along then. I’m sure
you’re anxious to see Beth, and if you’re half the man I’m giving
you credit for, we’ll see each other again.”

“I hope I’m at least half that man,” he said.
The woman was intense, but clearly loyal to her daughter. He was
glad his Beth had grown up with this woman in her life, secure in
the love of at least one parent, since her father was mostly
absent. It sure beat the childhood he’d endured.

Reed left the high-rise, not bothering to
look at the desk attendant or doorman again as he strode onto the
sidewalk. He paused in a nearby doorway to use his phone to obtain
a map of her apartment, pleased to find it was only a couple of
blocks away.

As he covered the distance, he looked around
him. The place was crawling with people, all seemingly in their
best clothes, though it was a Tuesday afternoon. There were fancy
cars lining the streets, along with boutiques and stores that
probably cost more just to glance in their windows than he earned
in a year. On the flight to New York, he’d accepted he would have
to make a move back to the city, but the thought was stifling. How
was he going to make it here? Would Aika adapt? At least Beth’s
wealth would probably make it easy enough to keep a fox in the
city, without legal repercussions.

Beth groaned as she stuck her head in the
freezer. It was so hot. Even the air conditioner wasn’t doing much
to cut through the sticky heat in the apartment. It made her miss
colder weather. Deep snow. Reed…

She snorted as she grabbed a bag of frozen
carrots to put on the back of her neck. It was way past time to
abandon thoughts of him. After sending that letter, she’d spent a
couple of weeks on tenterhooks, hoping he might call her or at
least write back. In the dark of night, she’d even allowed herself
the occasional fantasy of having him show up on her doorstep to
sweep her off her feet.

She didn’t even bother to try to generate
that illusion anymore, even at her loneliest moments. He’d had to
have known about the baby for at least six weeks now, so it was
obvious he’d accepted her absolution of responsibility. Perhaps it
shouldn’t have, but it had honestly surprised her when she’d
realized he’d taken the easy way out. Despite everything he’d said,
she had been deluded enough to think there was still a decent man
inside him, one who would want to do the right thing. What a fool
she’d been.

The doorbell rang, making her curse softly.
Leaving the cold of the freezer took great strength of will. She
hoped it wasn’t her mom or Megan dropping in to check on her. She
loved them and appreciated their support, but it would be nice to
have one day without one of them hovering around—especially since
she was dressed in skimpy shorts and a brief camisole. Definitely
not company attire, even for family.

Her heart stuttered to a stop for a brief
second when she looked through the peephole and saw Reed standing
on the other side. “Just a minute,” she said in a scratchy voice.
As she started to open the locks, she realized she still held the
frozen carrots and dropped them on the foyer table.

Her hands shook as she undid the bolts and
security chain, but she hoped she looked composed when she opened
the door a little, not inviting him inside. “Hello.” Her tone came
out cool and aloof. Good girl, she praised herself.

“Uh, hi.” His gaze was centered on her
distended belly. An inch or so peeked out the bottom of the
camisole she had stretched over the bump that morning, not
bothering to find maternity clothes when she’d gotten out of the
shower. It was too darned hot to go out anywhere.

He didn’t say anything else, and neither did
she as she resisted the urge to cover her stomach. She’d had some
time to get used to it, but she was still a bit self-conscious
about it. Beth wasn’t sure if it was because she’d always been
slender and petite, or if it had more to do with the judgmental
looks and occasional snide comments she received practically
wherever she went. She’d been a bit naïve to assume no one would
care or say anything about a young unwed mother in the twenty-first
century.

“What do you want?” she finally asked.

He looked up, his mouth slightly agape.
“What’d you think, girl?”

She shrugged. “No clue.”

Reed sighed, leaning against the doorjamb.
Fatigue had carved lines in his face, and he looked exhausted. “Can
I just come in please?”

Reluctantly, she stepped aside, moved both by
his physical state and a desire to keep their private business
between them. When he crossed the threshold, she closed and locked
the door before walking over to a chair. She avoided the sofa and
loveseat, not wanting to have him too close.

He dropped down on the loveseat next to her
chair, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing deeply. “Sorry.”
His voice was hoarse. “Long trip.”

“I’ll say. At least two months,” she
snapped.

Reed’s blue eyes opened, and he frowned. “I
didn’t get your letter until three days ago, Beth.”

She sniffed. “It must have been delivered by
sled dog.”

He surprised her with a small laugh. “Just
about, but it had to be sittin’ at the post office a good two
months waitin’ for me.”

“Are you blaming the postal service?” Sure,
they were incompetent, but she didn’t believe they’d misplaced his
letter for two months.

He shook his head. “Nah, I just didn’t make
my bi-annual supply run on time. Kept puttin’ it off so I could sit
around and mope. Nothin’ seemed very important after you left.”

She didn’t doubt his sincerity. “Oh.”

Sighing, he leaned forward, elbows on his
knees. “If Aika hadn’t run outta milk, I’d probably still be
wallowin’ in self-pity and wouldn’t know about the baby.”

Her lips quirked at Aika’s name. “I thought
you were going to send her to a rehab center.”

“Never got around to it. My friend said she
didn’t have a very good chance of being able to learn how to be a
wild fox again, so she’d just be living at the facility, paraded
out to folks for education.” Reed lifted a shoulder. “Thought I’d
spare her that.”

“Where is she?”

“Endline, with my friend Mike.”

Another silence settled between them, and he
seemed to be searching for something to say—the right thing—as
desperately as she was. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” she blurted
out.

His gaze jumped to her stomach before going
back to her face. “I didn’t think you did.”

Relief filled her, but curiosity made her
ask, “Why not? You’re not exactly the trusting type.”

His lips quirked a bit. “Why would you want
to trap an ol’ redneck, Beth? I never doubted it was a
mistake.”

She straightened her spine. “Our baby was a
product of a miscalculation, but she is not a mistake.”

Reed held up his hand. “Whoa, girl. I didn’t
mean she was a mistake. I meant you gettin’ pregnant. Don’t think
you did that on purpose. I ain’t any prize. Besides, I can’t
imagine you doin’ something so low even to catch a man worthy of
you.”

“Oh.” That sapped some of her anger. “Thank
you.”

He looked at her belly again. “She? You know
it’s a girl for sure?”

Beth nodded. “Sorry. I guess I should have
asked if you wanted to know.”

Reed shrugged. “I’d rather know sooner than
later. Gives me more time to prepare.”

She nodded again. “Yeah.” Slipping her thumb
in her mouth, she began chewing on the nail, a habit she hadn’t
indulged in for years. “What kind of preparing do you have in
mind?”