Читать книгу Navy Baby - Debbie Macomber - Страница 7

Riley Murdock had been in one bitch of a mood for nearly three months. He’d done everything within his power to locate the mysterious Hannah and cursed himself a hundred times over that he hadn’t thought to ask for her surname.

Once he found her, he didn’t know what the hell he intended to do. Strangling her seemed like a damn good idea. The woman had driven him crazy from the moment she first stumbled into him on the festive Seattle sidewalk.

When he’d woken to find her gone that morning, he’d been devastated with self-recrimination. Then he’d grown furious. In the weeks since, his wrath hadn’t diminished. He didn’t know what game she was playing, but by heaven he intended to find out.

If there was anyone to blame in this fiasco, Riley noted, it was himself. He’d known from the first that she wasn’t like the other women who frequented waterfront bars. The story she’d told him about a couple of men following her was true. She’d been genuinely frightened, trembling with anxiety. The look in her eyes—damn, but she had beautiful gray eyes—couldn’t easily be fabricated. Why she had opted to approach him, he didn’t know. The woman was full of surprises.

If he was astonished by the fact she’d chosen to sit at his table, then he should have been a candidate for a heart transplant when he discovered she was a virgin. As many times as Riley had analyzed what happened between them, nothing added up right.

She’d approached him. She’d been the one to kiss him. Hell, she’d practically seduced him. Seduced by a virgin. No wonder the tally kept coming up inaccurate. He should have realized, should have figured it out. Instead, he’d been left to deal with this incredible sense of guilt. If only she hadn’t disappeared without explaining. Anger tightened his stomach every time he thought about waking up that morning and finding her gone. He’d damn near torn apart the desk manager trying to find out about her. But apparently no one had seen her go.

Riley blamed himself still. He feared he’d frightened her so badly that she’d fled in horror. Had he hurt her? She’d been so tight and so small. It was all he could do not to slam his fist into the wall every time he thought about their brief encounter, which was damn near every minute of every day. What had happened to her since? Was she sick? Alone? Frightened? Pregnant?

He’d been in control of their encounter until she’d kissed him. Now it was weeks later and he still reeled at the memory of the gentle, shy way in which she’d pressed her lips to his. He cursed how he could close his eyes and continue to taste her. How sweet she’d been. How warm and delicate. Her lips had molded to his, and her flavor reminded him of cotton candy. That alone was enough to torment him, but it wasn’t all. Her fragrance continued to obsess him. It wasn’t a commercial one he could name. The only way he could think to describe it was to imagine walking waist-deep in a field of wildflowers.

The woman had somersaulted into his life, sent his senses cartwheeling, and then, without a thought, without a care, had vanished, leaving him bitter and confused.

The hell with her, Riley decided rashly. He’d wasted enough time, energy and expense trying to find her. He’d return to his well-ordered life and forget her. Which was obviously what she intended to do with him.

If only he could forget her.

“Dad,” Hannah pleaded softly, fighting to hold back a sob, “say something.”

The truth was out, and Hannah hung her head waiting for the backlash of anger and disappointment. It was what she deserved and what she expected.

To her surprise, her father said nothing. He sat in the chair and stared into space, his face devoid of expression. Then he stood, laboriously, as if he were feeling old and beaten. Without a word he walked out the back door.

Tears filled Hannah’s eyes as her gaze followed him. He stood on the porch for several moments, his hand wrapped around the support beam, and stared into a cloudless October sky. Then, stepping off the porch, once again with slow and strained movements, he crossed the parsonage lawn and entered the old white church. Hannah sat at the kitchen table and gave him fifteen minutes before she followed him.

She found her father kneeling at the front of the church, before the altar, his head and shoulders slumped forward. Her heart constricted painfully at the sight of him there on his knees.

“Daddy,” she whispered, speaking to him as she’d done as a frightened child. She was frightened. Not of what he’d say or of what he’d do, but because the circumstances surrounding this pregnancy were so complex.

George Raymond opened his eyes and straightened. Placing his hand on his knee, he rose awkwardly to his feet. His gaze rested on her, and she watched as his Adam’s apple moved up and down his throat while he struggled to restrain the emotion. He tried to smile, a weak attempt to comfort her, then took her hand and together they sat in the front pew.

Hot tears brimmed in Hannah’s eyes, threatening to spill over. The lump in her throat felt as large as a basketball, making swallowing nearly impossible. Her father had every right to be angry with her, to rage at her for her stupidity. What she’d done had been the height of irresponsibility. In her anguish she’d rebelled against everything she’d been raised to believe—an incredible departure from anything she’d ever done.

If she could offer any excuse, it was that she hadn’t been herself. The hours she’d spent with Riley had been the first in days, in weeks, in which she wasn’t suffocating in her grief. She’d reached out to him, a stranger, needing his touch, needing to be held and loved and protected. Needing a reprieve from her pain to ease the frustration of having been cheated from this experience with Jerry, the only man she’d ever truly loved. She’d been despondent, and in her anguish she’d sought the comfort of a stranger. It had been sheer stupidity on her part. And now she was faced with the knowledge that the one major indiscretion of her life was about to bear fruit.

Even if she hadn’t gotten pregnant, even if she’d been able to bury the events of that night for what remained of her life, she had changed. Not only in the physical sense. It had taken her several weeks to realize the physical aspects of her experience were only a minor portion of their lovemaking. Her emotions had become involved. She didn’t know how to explain it or what to make of it. She’d assumed that once she left the hotel room, she’d never think of Riley again. But she did, almost constantly, against every dictate of her will.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered brokenly. “So sorry.”

Her father wrapped her gently in his arms. “I know, Hannah, I know.”

“I was wrong…. I was so angry at God for taking Jerry. I loved him so much.”

With a tenderness that pitched knives at her heart, her father brushed the hair from her face. “I needed a few moments alone to think through this situation. I’ve been reminded that God doesn’t make mistakes. This child growing under your heart was planted there for a reason. I don’t know why any more than I understand the reason God took Jerry home. Nevertheless you are going to have a baby, and the only thing we can do is make the best of the situation.”

Hannah nodded, not knowing what to say. She didn’t deserve so wonderful a father.

“I love you, Hannah. Yes, I’m hurt. Yes, I’m disappointed in your lack of judgment. But there is nothing you could ever do that would change my love for you or the fact you’re my daughter.”

Hannah closed her eyes and breathed deeply, clinging to her father’s strength and his love.

“Now, tell me his name,” he said, breaking away from her.

Keeping her gaze lowered, she whispered, “Riley Murdock… We met only once—the night of the torchlight parade. He’s in the Navy, but I don’t have a clue where he’s stationed.” Finding him now would be impossible, which was just as well. Hannah didn’t want to think about what Riley would say or do once he found out she was carrying his child. Frankly, she wondered if he’d even remember her.

Her father gripped her hand in both his own, and once again Hannah noted how frail he looked. The lines around his eyes and mouth had formed into deep grooves and there was more gray than reddish brown in his thick thatch of hair. Funny how she hadn’t noticed that earlier. The changes had come since Jerry’s death, but she’d been so consumed by pain and uncertainty that she hadn’t noticed he’d been dealing with his own grief.

“The first thing we have to do,” he said gently, “is make a doctor’s appointment for you. I’m sure Doc Hanson will be able to see you first thing Monday morning. I’ll give him a call myself.”

Hannah nodded. Unwilling to face the truth, she’d delayed contacting a physician longer than she should have. Doc Hanson was a friend of the family and could be trusted to be discreet.

“Then,” Hannah told him, drawing in a deep sigh, “we’ll need to decide where I should go.”

“Go?” Her father’s dear face darkened, the age lines becoming even more pronounced.

“I won’t be able to continue living here,” she said, her tone weary. She wasn’t thinking of herself, but of her father and of Jerry’s memory.

“But why, Hannah?”

She inhaled deeply. “Everyone will assume the child is Jerry’s.” With everything in her heart she wished her fiancé had fathered her child, but she had to deal with the cold, harsh facts. Riley Murdock—a stranger from the Seattle waterfront—was the father. Although it was tempting, very tempting, to allow her church family and friends to believe she carried Jerry’s child, she couldn’t have lived with the lie. Not when he’d always been so morally upright.

“We’ll simply explain to everyone that the child isn’t Jerry’s,” her father stated with one hard nod of his head, as if that alone would set everything right.

“Do you honestly think the congregation will believe me?” she asked him, the words tight in her throat. “I have to leave, Dad,” she said firmly, unwilling to compromise.

For her father’s sake she must leave Seattle. He’d been such a loving and kind parent, and there were sure to be those in the church who would malign him for her wrongdoings. There would be an equal number who would stand beside them both with loving support, but Hannah couldn’t bear to see her father suffer because of her mistakes.

“I’ll go live with Aunt Helen until after the baby’s born….”

“And then what?” her father demanded, sounding uncharacteristically alarmed.

“I…don’t know. I’ll cross that bridge when I reach it.” So many questions and concerns were coming at her, like a spray of rocks from a speeding car. Hannah didn’t feel capable of fending off a single one, at least not now.

“We don’t need to decide anything yet,” he assured her after a moment. But he wore a thoughtful frown as they walked back to the house, where Hannah had left dinner simmering.

The frown didn’t seem to leave her father’s features from that moment forward. Hannah had been in to see Doc Hanson, who confirmed what she already knew. He ran a series of tests and prescribed iron tablets and vitamins because she was anemic. He’d been gentle and kind and didn’t ply her with questions, for which she was grateful.

It was Friday afternoon nearly two weeks after Hannah had first told her father about the pregnancy. Exhausted from her day’s work as an underwriting assistant for a major insurance company, she walked into the house and discovered her father waiting for her in the living room. He sat in his favorite chair, his hands curved around the faded upholstered arms, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Hannah called it his “thinking chair.” To discover him resting in the middle of the afternoon was highly unusual.

“Good afternoon, Dad,” she greeted with a smile, and walked across the worn beige carpet to kiss his weathered cheek. “Is everything all right?”

“It’s just fine,” he said, returning her smile with an absent one of his own. “Keep your coat on. We’re going out.”

“We are?” Offhand, Hannah couldn’t think of any appointment she’d made. Only infrequently did she accompany her father on house calls, and those were generally scheduled for Tuesday and Thursday evenings. George Raymond made it a point to visit every family in his congregation at least once a year.

His hand protectively cupped her elbow as he led her out the front door and down the steps. The station wagon was parked in the driveway.

“Where are we going?” Hannah questioned. Rarely had she seen her father look more resolute. It was as if he were marching with Joshua, preparing to face the walls of Jericho.

When he didn’t answer, she assumed he hadn’t heard her and she repeated the question. That, too, was ignored.

He drove silently for several minutes before he reached the freeway, and then he headed south toward Tacoma. The car was warm, and although she was curious as to what was happening, Hannah soon found her eyes drifting closed. Her head bobbed a couple of times as she struggled to remain awake. If only she’d get over this depressing need for extra sleep. It seemed she couldn’t last through the day without napping. Lately she’d taken to heading for bed nearly as soon as she’d finished the dinner dishes. She shifted positions and opened her eyes when they crossed the Narrows Bridge and headed toward the Kitsap Peninsula.

She woke when her father made a sharp turn and eased to a stop in front of a guard house. He rolled down the window, and a blast of cold air alerted Hannah to the fact they’d arrived at their destination. She straightened and looked around. Although she’d never been on one before, she recognized immediately that they were entering a military compound.

“Dad?” she quizzed. “Where are we?”

“Bangor,” he announced a little too loudly. “We’re meeting Riley Murdock.”

In Chaplain Stewart’s office Riley sat, ramrod straight, across the room from Hannah Raymond and her stern-faced father. Riley’s gaze narrowed as he fired a look in her direction. Not once did she deign to glance his way. She sat, her back as rigid as his own, but although she held her head high, her gaze refused to meet his. Perhaps it was just as well.

First thing the previous morning, Riley had been called before his commanding officer. When he arrived, he’d discovered Chaplain Stewart and Lieutenant Commander Steven Kyle.

“Do you know a woman by the name of Hannah Raymond?” the chaplain had asked him.

Riley had reacted with surprise. For three months he’d been frantically searching for her, spending every available weekend combing the Seattle waterfront, asking if anyone had seen a woman of her description. He’d followed the leads, but each one had led to a frustrating dead end. He’d gone so far as to contact a detective agency, but they’d offered him little hope. All Riley knew about her was her first name and the fact she had shiny brown hair and dove-gray eyes. There simply hadn’t been enough information, and the agency had been discouraging.

“I know her,” Riley admitted.

“How well?”

Riley had stiffened. “Well enough.”

“Then you may be interested to learn she’s pregnant,” Chaplain Stewart stated abruptly, looking at Riley as though he were the spawn of the devil.

Riley felt as if someone had knocked his feet out from under him, and then, when he was laid low, viciously kicked him.

“Pregnant,” he repeated, stunned, as though he’d never heard the word before.

“She claims the child is yours,” his CO explained. “She maintains it happened during Seafair, which means she’d be about three months along. Does that time frame gel with you?”

Fury and outrage twisted inside Riley until he couldn’t speak. All he could manage was a sharp nod. He clenched his powerful fists at his sides until he was sure he’d cut off the blood supply to his fingers.

“At Seafair?” the commanding officer pressed.

Again Riley nodded. “That would be about right.” The woman had put him through three months of living hell, and he wouldn’t soon forget or forgive that. “When did she contact you?” he asked his CO.

It was Chaplain Stewart who answered. “She didn’t.”

“Then who did?” he demanded.

“George Raymond, Hannah’s father. He’s had an extensive investigation done on you, as well.”

Great. Wonderful. Now Riley was going to be left to deal with an irate father. That was exactly what he needed to start his day off on the wrong foot.

“George and I attended seminary together,” the chaplain had continued, and it was clear from the way he spoke that the two men had been good friends. “When Hannah confessed that the father of her unborn child was in the Navy, George contacted me, hoping I’d be able to help him locate you.”

Riley couldn’t believe this was happening. The desire to wring Hannah’s scrawny neck increased by the minute.

Hannah was pregnant! If he had any luck, Riley swore, it was all bad. Okay, so he was being mildly unreasonable. But she was the one who’d come on to him. He’d assumed, at least in the beginning, that she must be using protection. If he’d believed otherwise he would have taken care of the matter himself. It wasn’t until after he’d discovered she was a virgin that he had briefly wondered. And worried. He’d admit now that the deed was staring him in the face.

“What does she want?” Riley demanded. Support, medical bills, maybe even an allotment to cover her expenses while she was unable to work. Riley had no intention of sloughing off his duty. He was the one responsible and he’d own up to it.

Chaplain Stewart stood and walked across the room. He paused and then rubbed his hand along the back of his neck, as if he needed extra time to shepherd his thoughts.

“As I told you earlier, George Raymond is a minister. In his mind there’s only one thing to be done.”

“And that is?” Riley demanded, remembering he’d left his checkbook at his apartment.

“He wants you to marry his daughter.”

“What?” Riley was so shocked he nearly laughed out loud. “Marry her? Hell, I don’t even know her.”

“You know her well enough,” the chaplain reminded him, throwing Riley’s own words back in his face. “Listen, son,” he continued thoughtfully, “no one’s going to force you to marry the girl.”

“You’re damn right about that,” Riley returned heatedly, slightly amused that he’d gone from Satan’s spawn to “son” in a matter of a few minutes.

“Hannah’s not like other women.”

Riley didn’t need to be reminded of that, either. No one else he’d ever kissed tasted half as good as she had, or smelled so fresh and lovely. No other woman had loved him nearly as well, Riley reminded himself regretfully; her untutored responses haunted him still. He’d felt engulfed by her tenderness, awed by her beauty and jolted by her hungry need. She’d been so tight and so hot that even now, he couldn’t think about their night together without wanting her again.

“You have to understand,” Chaplain Stewart went on to say, “Hannah’s been raised in the church. Her mother died when she was in her early teens, and she took over the family responsibilities then. Her older brother’s in the mission field in India. This young woman comes from as traditional a background as you can imagine.”

That was all fine and wonderful. She’d cared for her family, and he didn’t doubt she possessed more than one admirable trait, but Riley wasn’t convinced marriage would be the best solution to the problem. Not only weren’t they acquainted, Hannah’s life couldn’t have been less like his own had they sat down and drawn up a composite of opposite family types.

“Wanting to protect those she loves, not wanting to shame her family, Hannah’s apparently opted to move away.”

“Where?” Riley demanded, instantly alarmed. He had the feeling he was going to end up following this woman halfway across the country before this was over.

“I’m hoping her leaving the area won’t be necessary,” Chaplain Stewart said pointedly.

“What the chaplain is saying,” Lieutenant Commander Kyle stressed, “is that if you married the young lady it would solve several problems. But I want it understood, that decision is yours.”

Riley stiffened. No one was going to force him into marrying against his will. He’d rot in jail before he’d be pressured into wedding a woman he didn’t want. At his silence, Riley’s CO leafed through his file, which was spread open across the top of his desk. Riley would be up for Senior Chief within the next couple of years, and the promotion was important to him. Damn important.

“Think about what Chaplain Stewart has said,” Lieutenant Commander Kyle urged. “The Navy can’t and won’t force you to marry the woman.”

“That’s true enough,” the chaplain added. “But from everything I’ve seen and heard, I believe it’s the only decent thing you can do.”

Both men were looking at him as if he’d enticed Hannah Raymond into his bed. They weren’t likely to believe she’d been the one who’d seduced him!

Riley had brooded over the meeting with Lieutenant Commander Kyle and Chaplain Stewart all night. Hannah was pregnant with his child and the chaplain was breathing down his back like monster dragons exhaling fire. Although his CO hadn’t said it, Riley had the impression his promotion might well hang in the balance. Everyone else seemed to know what he should do about it. Everyone, that is, except him.

Now that he saw Hannah again, Riley was even more uncertain. He remembered her as being a lovely creature, but not nearly so delicate and ethereal. She was thin—thinner than when he’d met her that July night—and so pale he wondered about her health.

Riley feared the pregnancy had already taken its toll on her, and he couldn’t help being concerned about her well-being. The urge to protect and care for her was strong, but Riley pushed it aside in favor of the anger that had been building within him for the past several months.

He had damn good reason for being furious with her.

“Are you convinced the child is yours?” Chaplain Stewart directed the question to Riley.

The room went still, as though everyone were on tenterhooks anticipating his reply. “The baby’s mine,” he answered firmly.

Hannah’s soft gray gaze slid to his as if she longed to thank him for telling the truth. He wanted to leap to his feet and remind her that she’d been the one to run out on him. It hadn’t happened the other way around. If anyone’s integrity was to be questioned, then it should be hers.

“Are you prepared to marry my daughter?” demanded the thin, graying man Riley could only assume was Hannah’s father.

“Dad?” Hannah gasped, pleading with her father. “Don’t do this, please.” Her voice was soft and honest, and Riley doubted that many men could refuse her.

Reverend Raymond looked at Riley as if he fully expected him to sprout horns and drag out a pitchfork. If that were the case, it was ironic that the minister was demanding that Riley marry his daughter.

“As your father, I insist this young man do right by you.”

“Chaplain Stewart,” Hannah said, coming to her feet, ignoring her father. “Could Riley and I talk for a few minutes…alone?” The last word was added pointedly.

The two older men seemed to reach a tacit agreement. “All right, Hannah” the Navy chaplain agreed, coming to his feet. “Perhaps that would be for the best. Come on, George. I’ll pour us a cup of coffee and we’ll leave these two to sort out their problems in their own way. I have faith young Murdock means well.”

Riley waited until the door had closed before he leaped to his feet. He glared across the room at Hannah, not knowing what to do first—shake her until her teeth rattled or gently take her in his arms and demand to know why she was so deathly pale. Before he had the opportunity to speak, she did.

“I’m terribly sorry about all this,” she murmured. “I had no idea my father had contacted you.”

“Why’d you leave?” he bit out the question between clenched teeth, still undecided about how he was going to deal with her.

She frowned as if she didn’t understand his question. Her brow creased until she understood, and then it creased even more. “I suppose I owe you an apology for that, as well.”

“You’re damn right you do.”

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

“Obviously,” he retorted, trapped in his anger. “No one in their right mind would do this to themselves. The question is, what the hell are we going to do about it now?”

“Oh, don’t worry. It isn’t necessary for you to marry me. I don’t know what ever made Dad suggest that.”

She seemed so damn smug about it, and that riled him all the more.

“Apparently your father feels differently. He seems to think my marrying you would salvage your honor.”

She nodded. Her hair was tied at her nape, giving Riley a clear view of the delicate lines of her face. As pale as she was, she resembled a porcelain doll, fragile and easily breakable. She looked dangerously close to that point right then.

“My father is an old-fashioned man with traditional values. Marriage is what he would expect.”

“What do you expect?” His tone was less harsh, his concern for her outweighing his irritation.

Hannah placed her hand on her smooth stomach as though she longed to protect the child. Riley’s gaze dropped there, and he waited a moment, trying to analyze his own feelings. A child grew there. His child. Try as he might, he felt nothing except regret mingled with a healthy dose of concern.

“I…I’m not sure what I want from you,” Hannah answered. “As I tried to tell you before, I feel terrible about dragging you into this mess.”

“It takes two. You didn’t create that child on your own.”

Her smile was shy. “Yes, I know. It’s just that I never meant to involve you…afterward.”

That didn’t set any better with Riley than the implied threat from his commanding officer. “So you intended to run off and have my child without telling me?”

“I…didn’t have a clue as to how to find you,” she argued.

“Your father didn’t seem to have much of a problem.”

She looked away as though she wanted to avoid an argument. “I didn’t know if you wanted me to contact you.”

She sure the hell had a low opinion of him. It rankled Riley that Miss High-and-Mighty would make those kinds of assumptions about him.

“Next time don’t assume anything,” he barked. “Ask!”

“I apologize—”

“That’s another thing. Quit apologizing.” He held both hands to his head, hoping the applied pressure to his scalp would help him think.

“Are you always this difficult to talk to?” she asked. He was pleased to hear a little mettle in her voice. It told him he hadn’t been wrong about her. This woman had plenty of spirit. It also assured him her health wasn’t as bad as he suspected.

“I am when I’ve been backed into a corner,” Riley stormed.

She stood and reached for her coat. “Then let me assure you I’m not the one forcing you into a marriage you obviously don’t want.”

“You’re right. It isn’t you. It’s the United States Navy.”

“The Navy? I…don’t understand.”

“I don’t expect you to,” Riley barked. “It’s either do right by you or kiss a promotion I’ve been working toward for the last several years goodbye.” Lieutenant Commander Kyle had implied as much in a few short words.

“Oh, dear. I had no idea.”

“Obviously not.” He rammed all ten fingers through his hair, then dropped his hands to his sides. “My career could be on the line with this one, sweetheart.” That was an exaggeration, but in some ways Riley felt it could be true.

Hannah grimaced at the derogatory way in which he’d used the term of affection. “But surely if I spoke to them…if I were to explain…”

Riley laughed shortly. “Not a chance. Your father made sure of that.”

“I didn’t know.”

“The way I see it,” he said with thick agitation, “I don’t have a hell of a lot of choice but to go ahead and marry you.”

Hannah’s head snapped up at that. “You…can’t seriously be considering going through with a wedding.”

“I’ve never been more serious in my life.”