Читать книгу Christmas Baby: A Baby Under the Tree / A Baby For Christmas / Her Christmas Hero - Judy Duarte - Страница 8

Nearly four weeks later, Jillian stood in the small bathroom of her apartment and stared at the results of the home pregnancy test she’d purchased earlier that day.

Her tummy clenched as she watched a light blue plus sign grow darker and brighter, providing the news she couldn’t quite grasp.

Pregnant?

How could that be? Surely there was a mistake.

She blinked twice, hoping that her vision would clear, that the blue would fade to white, that the obvious result in front of her wasn’t real. But the truth was impossible to ignore. She conceived a baby the one and only time she’d slept with a stranger.

“This can’t possibly be happening,” she said aloud, as if she could actually argue with reality. “We used protection that night.”

But her words merely bounced off the pale green bathroom walls.

Was an unexpected pregnancy fate’s way of punishing her for an indiscretion she’d never have again?

If so, it didn’t seem fair. After all, it wasn’t as if she’d set out to find someone to help her make it through the first night of her post-divorce life. She’d been too caught up in the legal and emotional aspects of the paperwork she’d just signed, the small settlement she’d received and the pain of Thomas’s betrayal to even give a new relationship a second thought.

She blew out a ragged sigh, still unable to tear her eyes away from the test results that taunted her.

The irony of it all amazed her. Thanks to Shane’s quiet departure from her room that night, they’d completely avoided the typical “Now what?” questions that usually cropped up after two consenting adults had sex for the first time. But here she was, facing an ever bigger “Now what?” on her own.

Having a baby was going to change her plans to get a teaching credential and land a job right afterward. How did she expect to support herself and a child while attending school? And day care for an infant was very expensive.

“A baby?” she whispered. As much as she’d always wanted to be a mother, she couldn’t help thinking that the timing was off—way off.

She placed the palm of her hand on her flat stomach and tried to imagine the enormous changes facing her now.

Another woman might have considered all of her options, especially adoption, but Jillian felt she would just have to figure out a way to make it all work out.

Somehow, some way, she would come to grips with her pregnancy and motherhood. She’d have to.

She moved her hand upward, from her womb to her heart, where the beat quickened as reality began to sink in.

Should she call someone? She certainly could use a confidant right now.

In the past, whenever she’d had a crisis, she’d go to her grandmother for advice. Gram had always been there for her. When Jillian had learned that Thomas had been cheating, Gram had been the one she’d turned to, the one who’d offered her full support.

“I know this hurts now,” Gram had said, “but you’re going to come out on top of all this. You’re a survivor. You’ll meet someone else someday, someone who truly deserves you.”

At the time, while the idea of meeting a white knight in shining armor had put a glimmer of hope back in her heart, Jillian had feared that her marriage to Thomas might have left her skeptical of even the most loyal and honest of men.

Maybe that’s why she’d invited Shane back to her hotel room that night—in the hope that her white knight wore a Stetson.

Look where that move had gotten her.

Jillian still couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around the fact that her whole world was about to take a dramatic turn toward the complete unknown. Yet a tiny, comforting smile made its way to her lips. Finally, after years of hoping and praying that she’d conceive a child with Thomas, she was going to have a baby on her own.

Gram would be over the moon to learn that there was going to be a little one to cuddle and love, but she was also very old-fashioned. Hearing that Jillian had slept with her baby’s father on their one and only date, especially when Jillian knew very little—well, practically nothing—about the man, wouldn’t sit well with her. For that reason alone, Jillian didn’t have the courage to call Gram and request advice on her latest “little problem.”

The details of her baby’s conception probably ought to bother Jillian, too, and while she felt a bit embarrassed by having a one-night stand, she wasn’t going to beat herself up over what she’d done.

She’d realized at the time that she might eventually regret her decision to invite Shane back to her hotel room. Yet even the next morning, when she’d awakened in bed and found him gone, her only regret had been that she would never experience love in his arms again.

Even now, standing in the middle of her bathroom, awed by everything that little blue plus sign represented, she couldn’t help thinking back on the morning after their night together, when she should have felt regret—and hadn’t.

The scant light of dawn had just begun to peek through a gap in the curtains, when she’d stretched awake in the king-size bed, the memory of an incredible night slowly unfolding.

Shane’s hands sliding along her curves, hers exploring his well-defined biceps, his muscular chest…

Bodies responding, arching, reaching a breath-stealing peak…a powerful climax, the likes of which she’d never known.

A slow smile had stolen across her lips as she’d reached for the naked cowboy lying beside her…only to feel the cool sheets across an empty mattress.

For a moment, in her sleep-fogged mind, she’d wondered if the amazing sex had just been a dream. But as she’d sat up in bed and opened her eyes, the covers had slipped to her waist, and the morning air had whispered across her bare breasts.

She’d blinked several times, then scanned the bedroom of her hotel room, looking for evidence of the handsome cowboy she’d met the night before. But she’d found no sign of him—no clothes, no hat, no boots.

As she’d surveyed the king-size bed on which she sat, the comforter that had slipped to the floor during the night and the rumpled sheets, she’d realized she hadn’t been dreaming. Just to be sure, she’d reached for one of the pillows on the other side of the bed, lifted it to her nose and breathed in the masculine scent he’d left behind, the proof that he’d really been with her.

Yes, she’d realized. Shane Hollister had been the real deal, and the events that had sparked it all began to unfold in her mind. The slow dance they’d shared, the sweet words he’d whispered above the music, Your ex-husband was a fool, Jillian.

The arousing kiss that had followed…

The haze of heat and passion…

As the memory grew stronger, she recalled threading her fingers through his hair, pulling his lips closer, his tongue deeper. And when the kiss had gotten too hot to handle, she’d taken him by the hand and led him to her room.

No, their night together had been so much more than a dream.

And now?

She glanced down at the pregnancy test that announced she was facing yet another life-altering change.

Again, she thought about calling someone, a friend maybe. But she certainly couldn’t reach out to any of the women who were still part of the Wilkeses’ social circle.

Katie Harris, Jillian’s college roommate, came to mind. Years ago, the two of them had been exceptionally close, but they’d drifted apart after graduation.

Jillian had meant to remedy that situation as soon as she was settled in her new place, although she hadn’t gotten around to it yet. She could make that call now, of course, but she didn’t want their very first chat to be an embarrassing tell-all. So when she did take the time to connect with Katie, she would keep her news and her dilemma to herself, at least for a while.

What about Shane? she wondered. Telling him was probably the right thing to do. But could she even find him?

Leaving the pregnancy test on the bathroom counter, she went to her bedroom and opened the bureau drawer, where she’d put the note Shane had propped against the bathroom mirror before leaving her room that morning.

On the hotel letterhead, he’d written:

Dear Jillian,

I can’t begin to thank you for a wonderful evening. I nearly woke you when I had to leave, but you looked so peaceful lying there that I didn’t have the heart to disturb your sleep.

Last night was amazing. You were a gift I didn’t deserve, and one I’ll always cherish.

If you’re ever in my neck of the woods, look me up. My friend and boss, Dan Walker, owns a spread that’s located near Brighton Valley. He’ll know how to contact me.

Either way, thanks for a memorable evening.

Shane

Jillian held the note for a while, studying the solid script, the bold strokes. She’d kept it as a souvenir of the magical night she’d spent with a cowboy. But now? It was all she had left of the man.

Well, that and the baby growing in her womb.

She could look him up, she supposed. And while tempted to do just that, she had to face the facts. What they’d shared had been far more therapeutic than a glass of champagne could ever be, but it was just a one-night thing. Anything else was wishful thinking on her part.

After all, she’d already given up her dreams for one man. There was no way she’d ever do that again.

Besides, what could possibly develop between her and a cowboy? Other than the physical intimacy they’d shared that night, they were pretty much strangers to each other.

Still, there was a baby to consider.

A wave of apprehension washed over her. Did she have to tell him? Would he even want to know?

She wasn’t sure, but there wasn’t any reason to make a game plan right this minute. Not when she was still struggling with the news herself.

A baby.

Once again, she placed her hand on her stomach, over the womb in which her little one grew. She had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but one thing was certain: She would raise her baby in a loving home, no matter what kind of man its daddy proved to be.

But there was something else she had to consider. Having a child together gave them far more in common than she’d even been able to imagine in the heat of the moment.

And whether she liked it or not, it was only fair to tell Shane he was going to be a father.

After a long day at the ranch and a stop at the cellular-phone store, Shane made the fifteen-minute drive home, dog-tired and muscles aching.

He’d no more than pulled his key from the front door when his new cell phone vibrated. So he pulled it out of his pocket and answered without checking the number on the display.

Out of habit, he answered, “This is Hollister.”

“Shane, it’s Jack.”

His brother never called just to shoot the breeze. “Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know. You tell me. We haven’t heard from you in weeks. Hell, I’ve tried to cut you some slack after all you’ve been through, but things are getting worse. You’ve become really inconsiderate.”

“Now, wait a second, little brother. I might not be living in Houston these days, playing golf with you guys and eating Sunday dinner, but I’ve been busy—not inconsiderate.”

“Oh, no? Last month, you missed Billy’s birthday party. You told us you’d stop by, but you never even showed up.”

Shane turned on the lamp and shut the door, locking it for the night. “Something came up at the last minute, and I couldn’t make it.”

“Yeah, well you should have called to let someone know. We were worried about you.”

“I did call, and Evan answered. I guess he didn’t give you the message.”

“Evan’s only six years old, Shane. He can’t be trusted to take messages.”

“I figured that, so I asked him to put you or his mom on the line, but apparently he was too busy chasing after Emily to give the phone to someone older, so he told me to call back later.” Shane took a seat on the chair nearest to the door and kicked off his dusty boots.

“Okay, so you’re off the hook for the no-show at the birthday party,” Jack said, “but I’ve tried calling you several times today, and your phone never even rang through.”

“I lost my cell and wasn’t able to replace it until about twenty minutes ago.”

“Where’d you lose it?”

“If I knew that, then it wouldn’t be lost, would it?”

Jack blew out an exasperated sigh. “All right. So that was a dumb question. But what was so important that you couldn’t make it to Billy’s party?”

Shane had never been one to kiss and tell. He supposed he could say that he’d met a woman and leave it at that, which would have pleased Jack and the rest of the family no end. But meeting a woman implied that he’d found her promising enough to keep seeing her, which wasn’t exactly the case.

Yet Jack didn’t need to know any of that. The only way to keep him in the dark was to stretch the truth, which wasn’t the same as lying, but still went against Shane’s grain. “Let’s just say that I met an old friend, and the time just slipped away.”

“A female friend.”

Shane couldn’t blame Jack for hoping that Shane had met someone special, but that hadn’t happened.

“Who is she?” Jack asked, connecting the dots.

But Shane didn’t want to go into it—any of it. Jillian had been more than a one-night stand. She’d been a one-night memory, and he wasn’t about to share the details with anyone.

“It wasn’t a woman,” Shane lied. “I met up with an old friend, a guy I used to work with.”

The first stretch of the truth had seemed necessary, but the actual lie gnawed at his conscience. Shane had always been straight up with his family and the people he cared about. But there really hadn’t been another way around it if he wanted to maintain his privacy and keep the details from becoming Facebook fodder for the Hollisters, who were into that sort of thing.

Shane set aside his boots, then crossed the living room to the kitchen area.

“Well, you still ought to call home once in a while and let us know you’re still alive and kicking. Hell, you could be laying in a morgue as a John Doe for all we know.”

This was Jack speaking? The same brother who’d gone off to college and hadn’t called home until their parents had complained to the Dean of Students?

“You’re going to have to start over,” Shane said. “What’s the real problem here?”

“Hell, Shane. I know you’re busy. But Mom’s been worried about you. She hasn’t seen you in months or heard from you in weeks.”

Shane, who’d just reached for a glass in the kitchen cupboard, paused for a beat—long enough to flinch from a jab of guilt. Then he released a wobbly sigh. “I didn’t realize it had been so long, Jack. Tell her I’m fine and not to worry about me. Riding herd is a lot easier—and safer—than chasing the bad guys in Houston.”

“Tell her yourself. She’s been lighting candles and going to mass all week. Under the circumstances, what with knowing how much you liked being a cop, she’s stressing about your mental health.”

Shane tensed. Sylvia Dominguez, his former partner, had been a little worried about the same thing—at least for a while. And he couldn’t really blame her or his family for being concerned. He’d gone a little crazy a while back, after he’d been put on suspended duty for letting his heart, his grief and his temper get away from him. But after a sobering confrontation with his dad, he realized what he was doing to himself. So he stopped closing down bars and started facing his demons instead.

Facing them?

Yeah, right. That’s why his old life was in Houston and he was living in a cramped studio apartment more than two hours away. It was also why it took forever to fall asleep at night.

Of course, the insomnia might be a thing of the past now that he had thoughts of pretty Jillian to chase away the nocturnal shadows that kept the sandman at bay.

He wondered how long that was going to last.

A lot longer than their short time together, he hoped.

“Did you hear me?” Jack asked.

“Yeah.” And he’d already forgotten what they’d been talking about. “I’m just a little scattered tonight. I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation, but Mom’s another story.”

“Tell her that my mental health is fine,” Shane said. “It’s amazing what a change of scenery will do.”

“I’m glad to hear it. But don’t be a stranger.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to check in more often.”

Jack paused a beat, then added, “If you ever need anyone to talk to, you know I’m here for you.”

This particular brother was a good listener, as well as a peacemaker. So in the Hollister family, that made him invaluable.

“You never should have let Cindy talk you out of the priesthood,” Shane said. “You would have made a good one.”

Jack laughed. “Maybe so. But give Mom a call, will you?”

Shane glanced at his wristwatch. “It’s nearly nine o’clock on a Thursday night. She’s probably down at the parish playing bingo.”

“You don’t need to call tonight. But after that mess with Internal Affairs and your leave of absence, she’s been stressing something awful. You know how it is.”

Yeah, he did. And he hadn’t meant to cause her any more grief. He’d put the family through enough already, which had been another good reason to leave Houston.

Hoping to change the subject, he asked, “How’s everyone else doing?”

“Good, for the most part. Colleen’s on the dean’s list at Baylor again. Stevie left for the police academy yesterday. And Mary-Lynn’s expecting again.”

“Is Dad doing all right?”

“Yeah, but he’d like to hear from you, too.”

“I’ll call home in the morning.”

After disconnecting the line and putting the receiver back in the charger, Shane plunked a couple of ice cubes into his glass, filled it full of tap water and took a nice, long swig.

Any other night, he might have been tempted to fix himself a real drink, but memories of Jillian were still too fresh in his mind. And despite their time together being purposefully short, it was also the kind of memory that was worthy of keeping…sacred in a way. And Shane wasn’t about to lessen or cheapen it.

Those magical hours spent in her bed had been a once-in-a-lifetime experience, one he’d been reluctant to end.

As dawn had threatened to break over Houston, he’d drawn her close to his chest and savored the fragrance of her shampoo, the faint floral whiff of her perfume.

She’d slept with her bottom nestled in his lap, and he’d felt himself stirring, rising to the occasion—again. But even if they hadn’t gone through the only condom they’d had during the night, time hadn’t been on his side.

As he’d glanced through an opening in the heavy curtains and seen the night fading into dawn, he’d carefully slid his arm from under her head, trying his best not to wake her. Because a cowboy didn’t call in sick, especially if the only excuse he had was a beautiful woman in his bed. So he’d snatched his wrinkled shirt and jeans from the floor.

He’d found himself dragging his feet, not wanting to go, not ready to end what they’d shared.

Why had it felt as though they’d created some kind of invisible bond, some reason for him to linger?

Probably because their lovemaking had been so good. That had to be it.

Besides, Shane wasn’t ready for a relationship. And he wasn’t sure if he ever would be again.

So he’d quickly gotten dressed, wishing he could think of a better way to say goodbye. But he hadn’t been able to come up with anything that wouldn’t have created some kind of promise he couldn’t keep. And that wouldn’t have been fair to her.

Not that he didn’t want to see her again. But they had very little in common, and their lives were headed in different directions.

His only regret had been slipping out of her bed at nearly five in the morning and leaving a note, which might have cheapened the whole thing.

Last night was amazing, he’d written. You were a gift I didn’t deserve, and one I’ll always cherish.

And while he’d struggled to choose the right words, he’d meant every one of them.

He supposed he could try to find her again. His detective skills and his connections wouldn’t make it too hard. But Jillian wasn’t the kind of woman who’d fit into Shane’s life, whether it was in Houston or Brighton Valley.

He’d already gone through one star-crossed relationship that he shouldn’t have let get off the ground, and he’d lost his son because of it.

No, he’d just have to let well enough alone. After all, if something between them was meant to be, then he’d run into her again. No need for him to chase after something that was sure to crash and burn.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t sorely tempted to look her up in Houston. He’d love to spend one more night together.

They might end the evening in a blaze of glory, but what a way to go…?.