Книга - For a Baby

For a Baby
C.J. Carmichael


Heather Sweeney has always wanted a baby. Unfortunately, she's in love with a married man, so her chances don't look good. Then one lonely night she turns to T. J. Collins, who always seems to be there for her when life is at its lowest. A few weeks later Heather discovers that she's about to get her greatest wish–but with the wrong man.Heather and T. J. decide to marry, which makes perfect sense. Even if they're not in love, they've known each other forever. But it doesn't take long before Heather begins to feel as if she's married a stranger.Somehow–for the baby's sake–she has to find a way to make her marriage work. Especially once Heather discovers she may have married the right man after all.









“Hot, isn’t it?” Heather said. “I brought food.” She pulled out two sandwiches and passed one to T.J.


He caught her hand rather than the sandwich. “Your fingers are trembling.”

Couldn’t he just have let it pass without comment? But T.J. had never been one to let anything go. Throughout their school years he’d teased her mercilessly about her red hair and freckles. And she’d never made a secret about the fact that she despised him for it.

That didn’t stop them from sleeping together, though. No denying the sexual pull between them, much as she wanted to. Even now she felt it, despite the other, weightier, issue on her mind.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to meet me here.”

T.J. didn’t say anything. Somehow that made it even harder. She’d had a whole speech planned out. But in the end, she managed only two short sentences.

“I’m pregnant, T.J. Just thought you should know.”


Dear Reader,

Have you ever known someone who seemed like such a terrific person, but who never had anything go right for her? That’s what Heather Sweeney’s love life has been like—up until now.

If you’ve read a previous book of mine, Small-Town Girl, you already know the history….

Heather was jilted by her first love, Russell Matthew, and she’s never really gotten over that disappointment. Her subsequent marriage to a cop ended when he was shot in the line of duty. After all that, not even Heather’s best friend, Adrienne, could blame her for being cynical about her chances for a happy-ever-after marriage.

But in this book, Heather finally gets her chance. For true love, a husband, a baby…the whole package.

I am always happy to hear from readers. Please contact me through my Web site at www.cjcarmichael.com. Or send mail to the following address: #1754 - 246 Stewart Green S.W., Calgary, Alberta, Canada T3H 3C8.

Sincerely,

C.J. Carmichael




For a Baby

C.J. Carmichael





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


This book is dedicated to the memory of my grandma Dora,

who used to spin the most wonderful yarns.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE




CHAPTER ONE


Mid-April

SHE’D MADE A MISTAKE COMING to the bar. This place wasn’t going to cheer her up. She didn’t even feel like drinking.

Heather Sweeney eyed the glass of vodka and orange juice in her hand and wondered how her life had come to this point. She was too young to feel washed up, but that was exactly how she felt. She was a thirty-five-year-old, widowed schoolteacher who loved children but would probably never have any of her own.

Not based on the current state of her love life. Or the state of her uterus, either, according to her doctor. She couldn’t claim to be surprised by the results of the ultrasound they’d discussed at her appointment yesterday afternoon. In her family women tended to develop uterine fibroids at an early age, which was why she’d ended up an only child even though both her parents—like her—adored children.

So far, the noncancerous growths in her uterus were small enough that she could probably carry a baby to term if she were to become pregnant soon. But there was precious little opportunity for that to happen. She hadn’t even gone on a date for about four months.

And while the small-town bar was almost full tonight, there wasn’t a potential husband in the lot. A few middle-aged women were crowded around the video gambling machines in the back, while a gang of young men—probably barely drinking age—played pool at the other end of the room. All the tables in between were full of the farmers and miners who lived in and around this town. Most had either a wife or a girlfriend with them. Several she recognized as parents of either current or past students.

Not a decent-looking, single guy to be found.

Heather tilted her glass, watched the liquid slide over the bobbing ice cubes. Why had she come here?

She’d had other options for her Saturday night. Her best friend, Adrienne Jenson, had invited her to watch a movie with her family tonight. But it was too soon after her depressing appointment with the doctor to see Adrienne’s three little boys—three!—laughing and playing and tumbling around.

She could have opted to spend the evening with her parents. But they usually played cards with the Thomsons on Saturday nights. Five was definitely a crowd when it came to bridge.

And so, because she couldn’t stand to spend the night alone at her house, because there was no place else open on a Saturday night in Chatsworth, Saskatchewan, she’d ended up here. At the town bar. Alone.

The door opened, and she swung around on her stool in time to see Libby and Gibson Browning stroll in holding hands. The couple looked ridiculously young to be the parents of four kids—two girls from previous relationships and two little boys of their own. Their girls, Allie and Nicole, would be in Heather’s class this year. The couple stopped to say hi to her before joining a table of their other friends.

I’m going to finish this drink, then head home, she promised herself. She lifted the glass to her mouth and took several long gulps. One more swallow would have done it. But she lingered just a few seconds too long. Trenton McGuire, the town lech and drunk, sauntered into the bar and headed her way.

The stool next to hers was empty, and of course that’s where Trenton sat. By smell alone she could tell that whatever he ordered would not be his first of the evening.

Trenton wasn’t a bad guy. When sober, he was quiet and shy, and he did manage to eke out a living on the half section of land his father had left him. But when he was drinking, he imagined himself quite a ladies’ man.

“Must be my lucky night. Sittin’ next to a pretty little redhead.”

Yeah, it was his lucky night, all right. Definitely not hers. She finished her drink. Set down the glass.

“Can I buy you another, miss?”

He touched her arm and she pulled away, averting her gaze. Thank heavens he didn’t seem to know her name. They’d never met, but you could never tell in a small town, who had heard of whom. “Actually, I was just leaving. Thanks for the offer, though.”

She glanced at him then and felt a stab of pity. Greasy hair, poor teeth, bad skin. The man was skinny and his fingernails were dirty. Good grooming was all it would take to make him presentable. Hadn’t his mother taught him anything?

“But the night is young.” He put his hand back on her arm, this time holding tight. “Jerry,” he signaled the bartender. “Bring her another, and a draft for me.”

Though the grip on her arm was unrelenting, Heather wasn’t afraid. She was in a public place, surrounded by neighbors who had known her for most of her life. “I’m sorry, but I really am tired.”

She attempted again to pull away, but Trenton only moved in closer. She smelled his foul breath and tried not to grimace.

“Come on, sweetheart.”

The door opened again, only this time Heather couldn’t turn to see who was coming or going. Trenton had her pinned tight, his body blocking most of her view.

“Trenton,” the bartender said, “I think the lady wants to go home. You’d better let go of her arm.”

Yeah, because it was starting to hurt.

“But we ain’t had a chance to get to know each other yet.”

Heather had decided it was time to forget about the poor guy’s feelings and go for a knee in his groin, when a hand clamped down on Trenton’s shoulder.

“Sorry I’m late, honey. Been waiting long?”

She glanced up at a man who was about as different from Trenton as a man could be. Tall and strong, good-looking with thick dark hair and perfect teeth. And he didn’t smell bad, either.

“Hey there, T.J.” She’d known him all her life. Been in the same classroom from grades one through twelve. That didn’t mean she felt relieved at having him ease her out of this sticky situation. In some ways T.J. posed more of a risk to her than Trenton McGuire ever could.

Trenton’s hand dropped from her arm. He slunk back onto his bar stool, with a slightly fearful aspect, as if he was worried he was about to get hit. But once he’d backed off, T.J. didn’t even glance in his direction again.

“Ready to go home?” he offered her his arm and after a slight pause, she took it.

People had been watching the drama with interest, a few of the men on the ready in case she really did need help. But T.J. had beaten all the wanna-be-heroes to the punch. Now they returned to their drinks and conversations, not paying much attention as Heather walked with T.J. out into the evening.

She breathed deeply, taking in the fresh bite of spring air with pleasure. In the pale moonlight, the white grain elevator across the street seemed to glow. She felt T.J.’s hold tighten and shivered.

“Thanks for helping me out in there.”

“You okay?”

There wasn’t quite enough light for her to read his expression. She unlinked her arm and took a step backward.

“Sure. You go on ahead. Don’t let me interrupt your plans.” He must have been going to the bar for a reason. Maybe he was meeting someone.

“I’ll walk you home.” He moved toward her and offered his arm again.

She wanted to say no, yet couldn’t find her voice. T. J. Collins had been back in Chatsworth for a few years now. He’d left his high-powered law partnership in Calgary to take over the Handy Hardware from his father. In all that time, she’d barely spoken to him. Despite their history, maybe because of their history, the man made her way too uncomfortable.

He started walking, taking her with him. Their strides matched, and they moved in silence, something Heather couldn’t imagine doing with anyone else. Normally she tended to be a chatty person, but small talk had never worked to her advantage with T.J.

Unfortunately the lack of conversation only made her more aware of his physical presence. Of the breadth of his shoulders, the lightness of his stride and the warmth of his arm against hers.

Though he’d never been to visit, he knew which house was hers—a two-bedroom bungalow in the middle of quiet, residential Mallard Avenue.

He waited for her to unlock the door.

“Thanks again, T.J.” She knew she should draw back once the words were out, but she let his gaze trap her. They stood, in the dark, on her landing, the scent of sweet lilac from the shrubs on either side of them clouding her senses.

He didn’t say a word to her. Not a word. Just reached for her. And suddenly they were kissing with the instincts of lovers who knew each other very well.

Somehow T.J. ended up in her foyer, the front door closed. Heather’s mind felt numb, her body wondrously alive. T.J.’s mouth was warm, incessant, gentle and demanding all at the same time. He kissed her as if he thought he might never be able to kiss another woman. All his energy, thought and desire, focused on her.

And she melted under his touch. As she always had.

“Heather.”

That was all he had to say. She let him pull her sweater from her shoulders, her T-shirt over her head. He carried her to the bedroom—picked the guest room by mistake, but it didn’t matter. There was a bed in here, too. They sat on the edge of the mattress, kissing again as his hands worked the clasp at the back of her bra.

Her breasts yearned to be touched. Her entire body yearned to be touched. Heat pooled in her core as she waited for his hands to make her feel all the delicious sensations she remembered clearly from their two previous encounters.

Much as she’d loved the other men in her life— Russell, her best friend and first lover; Nick, the brave police officer who’d been her husband—no one had ever made her feel quite the way T.J. did.

Wildly, crazily, brazenly woman.

He choked out another word. “Beautiful.” Then bent to kiss her nipples, his hands trailing down her back, then up again, coming round her rib cage to enclose the weight of her breasts.

Making love with T.J. seemed to happen so naturally, that later Heather couldn’t really identify any point in time when she’d decided, This is going to happen. It just did, as if it had been preordained. And maybe it had been—from that instant when he’d taken her arm in the bar.

This is why I’ve tried so hard to avoid you, she thought when they were both, finally, naked on the bed. The chemistry between them was so strong—and so inexplicable. It wasn’t as if they even liked each other. When they were kids he’d loved to tease and torment her. And that hadn’t changed once they were adults. So why did they keep ending up in bed together?

She knew it was wrong. She wasn’t the kind of woman who slept with a man she didn’t love. And yet, as T.J. rose above her, his well-defined chest outlined in the faint light from the unshuttered window, she felt as if she’d rather die than deny herself the next few hours. She put her hands to his pecs and felt the hard muscles tense. She hated to admit how much she wanted him right now.

“Heather.” This time there was a question in the way he said her name.

She looked at his face. He was so focused on her, his mouth serious, his gaze steady.

“I haven’t…been with a woman since my wife left. I don’t have any protection with me.”

She couldn’t believe they’d come this far and she hadn’t even thought about birth control. That was also so very not like her. She’d learned the hard way. One moment of carelessness was all it took.

But what if something did happen? Would it be that terrible this time? She was an adult now. In fact, this could be her last chance.

“Heather?

Their bodies were both primed for this moment. Yet Heather knew he would stop if she told him to. What should she do? Besides her aching sexual desire, she felt another secret yearning, equally strong.

She studied the face of the man she’d known all her life. She saw an innocence in his eyes that was usually masked. She saw longing and lust. And something more. Something she’d seen before but been afraid to acknowledge.

Tell him the truth, Heather. She hadn’t been on the pill for years.

“Make love to me, T.J. Please.”

She had no idea a tear had formed in the corner of her eye until T.J. brushed it away with the tip of his finger. Then he kissed the spot tenderly.

“With pleasure,” he said.

And that’s exactly how it was.




CHAPTER TWO


Mid-June

HEATHER AND HER BEST FRIEND Adrienne were seated at the outdoor patio of a restaurant in Yorkton. They’d finished lunch and were lingering over iced lattes. The day was sunny and warm, not too hot. Adrienne looked younger than her thirty-two years in her tank top and capris. Her fingers and toes were painted matching shades of a color that reminded Heather of grape jelly.

Finally Adrienne, who’d been amazingly patient so far, leaned across the table. “So what did you want to talk about? Come on—I’m dying of curiosity.”

Heather had been waiting for the right moment. Now she realized it was never going to come. She cleared her throat. “You’re the first person to hear this—”

“Oh, you’ve got a new boyfriend, don’t you?” Adrienne grinned with excitement. “I thought you’ve had a certain glow lately. He’s good in bed, isn’t he? I just—”

“No, Adrienne. This isn’t about a guy.”

“Really?” Momentarily crushed, Adrienne brightened again. “I know! You’ve decided to take that trip to Europe. You want me to watch your house while you’re gone.”

“No. Not a trip to Europe. Not a trip to anywhere. Adrienne, I think…actually, I know…I’m pregnant.”

Silence. Adrienne’s mouth formed a perfectly round shape. She blinked her eyes once, then a bunch of times, as if she needed to clear her sight.

“But…but you haven’t gone on a date in months.” Her forehead creased. “How pregnant are you?”

Heather knew what she meant. “Eight weeks.”

“Oh. My. God.” She planted both hands on the table, then leaned back. The corners of her mouth turned up. The smile widened into something that looked a lot like delight. “You’re pregnant!”

Relief flooded Heather, making her realize how much she’d been counting on her friend to have a positive reaction. Adrienne knew about her health issues. Knew, too, how giving up her and Russ’s baby when she was younger still tore at her. She touched her hand to her flat tummy. Hard to believe, but the tests had confirmed the news on three separate occasions.

She was going to have a baby.

“And the father…?”

“That’s the tricky part.” She couldn’t meet her friend’s gaze for this. “It’s T. J. Collins.”

“T.J.?” Adrienne fell back in her chair, shocked. Then she leaned forward again and whispered, “But you don’t even like him!”

“I know.”

“He used to make you miserable. You’d walk an extra four blocks to school to avoid crossing his path. And I’ve noticed how you’ve gone out of your way to steer clear of the hardware store ever since he moved back from Calgary.”

“I know, I know. It’s totally crazy.”

“On the other hand…the guy’s rich, he lives in the small town you’ve always sworn you’ll never leave and he’s a hunk. I never told you this, ’cause I didn’t think you’d understand, but if I wasn’t married…”

“Please. I can’t even imagine you not being married.” Adrienne and her quiet husband, Ernie, had been high school sweethearts. Just like Heather and Russell. Only they’d managed the happily-ever-after part, too.

“So tell me how it happened…between you and T.J.?”

“You won’t believe this. It is such a cliché.” Heather explained how T.J. rescued her from the unwelcome advances of Trenton McGuire, then walked her home. “One thing just led to another and the next thing I knew, he was asking if he needed to wear protection.”

Adrienne’s eyes widened. “What did you say?”

“I didn’t exactly answer his question. But I think he may have assumed from…my actions…that I had things covered.”

“Heather!”

“Yeah.” Heather sank deeply into her chair. “He’s going to be so angry with me. Hell, I’m angry with me. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m a grade-four schoolteacher in a small town. I can’t have a baby without being in a committed relationship.”

“Was he good, Heather? I’m guessing he was really, really good.”

She couldn’t stop herself from blushing. She didn’t say a thing, just sat there turning more and more red-faced.

“Really? That good? Well, no wonder you lost your head.”

“I knew I was taking a spin at Russian Roulette, but I figured, what are the odds?”

“And you got lucky.”

“Or not lucky.”

“Come on, Heather. You always wanted to have a kid. This is your chance.”

“Yes, but I wanted the whole package. You know, the guy and the marriage and then the baby.” She frowned. “Some days I feel so excited and thrilled about the idea of finally having another baby. But when I try to imagine going back to school, growing big and heavy under the watchful eye of all those impressionable nine-and ten-year-olds, I just don’t think I can do it.”

“The school board won’t fire you. They can’t.”

“I know. But that’s not the point. I don’t want to be a bad role model for my kids.”

“You haven’t told your parents?”

Sigh. “No.”

“Heather…”

“I know. I have to do it soon, but I am so dreading the conversation. Can you imagine how disappointed they’ll be? My second pregnancy out of wedlock.”

Even saying it now, Heather could hardly believe it. She had no idea how her life had turned out this way. She’d always been a responsible person, and she’d tried to make smart decisions with her life. She’d earned her own way through university and had many good friends and a great relationship with her parents.

But she’d been unlucky in love. First, with Russell. They’d been best of friends for years, lovers for a short while, and then he’d met Julie and everything had changed. But while he’d made a life without her, Heather had trouble forgetting about him. Easygoing Russell with his charm and intelligence and kindness had remained her ideal for many years.

She hadn’t even been able to be angry with him about their baby. She hadn’t told him she was pregnant, so she couldn’t blame him for doing nothing. It had taken her years to get over her own pain, however. Finally she’d married a bright, ambitious young cop from Yorkton and looked forward to a future of teaching and raising a family of her own.

But Nick had been shot on the highway when he’d stopped what he’d thought was an impaired driver. The man had been drinking all right. Unfortunately he also had a gun and was intent on committing suicide. He’d taken Nick with him.

And left Heather on her own. She’d sworn to keep clear of men after that, but loneliness had eventually compelled her to start dating again. No one really appealed for more than a couple of dates, though. And she’d begun to despair of ever having the one thing she really wanted.

A child.

“Sometimes I wonder where I made my first mistake. Was it not telling Russell I was pregnant as soon as I found out? Marrying Nick? Sleeping with T.J.?” She shook her head. “Maybe I’m kidding myself, but I really feel too smart to be this stupid.”

“You’ve had bad luck with men.”

“People make their own luck.”

“Whose side are you on?” Adrienne sounded exasperated. “Is it your fault Russell fell in love with the elegant Julie? Or that Nick pulled over a crazy drunk and got himself shot? And don’t you dare blame yourself for sleeping with T.J. Though, maybe, you might have been a little more honest…”

Heather felt like sinking under the table. “Oh, God, he’s going to be so, so furious. Unless… Maybe I shouldn’t tell him.”

“Oh, right. Smart idea, Heather. And what happened the last time you got pregnant and didn’t tell the guy who was responsible? Besides, maybe there’s a silver lining to all this. In fact…” Adrienne stared across the street at the Co-op Grocery Store, but Heather could tell she wasn’t checking out the special on frozen lemonade.

“What, Adrienne? What are you thinking?”

“I’ve just had the best idea.” She straightened in her chair and smiled. “This is so perfect, so simple, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it right away.”

Heather waited.

“Okay. You want to keep this baby, right?”

“Of course.”

“And you don’t want to be a single parent.”

“Right.”

“That means you need to get married.”

“Brilliant, Adrienne. Why didn’t I think of that?” Heather put her head into her hands. This was hopeless. The whole situation was hopeless.

“So,” Adrienne carried on, “that means you and T.J. have to get married.”

“Me and T.J.?”

“Yup.”

“That’s your perfect idea?”

“Even aside from the fact that he’s the father of your baby—which is, by the way, a good reason on its own—the guy is ideally suited to you.”

“T.J. is moody, unsociable and downright rude. Which of those stellar qualities makes him perfect for me?”

“He’s completely different from Russell, that’s what.”

“Adrienne, you’re not making any sense.”

“Russell has been your ideal for too long. You’ve judged every one of your boyfriends against the standard he set. Even Nick.”

Yes, it was true. She couldn’t deny it.

“What you need is a man who is Russell’s exact opposite. That way you won’t be able to compare—they’ll be too different.”

“I see.” Adrienne’s logic was twisted, but it could be followed if you tried hard enough. “And that’s why you think T.J. is so right for me? Because he doesn’t have any of the qualities I admire in a man?”

“Exactly.”

“I think having three sons has scrambled your brains.”

“You could be right,” Adrienne said cheerfully. “Tell you what. Why don’t you come up with a better plan?”

July

HEATHER STOPPED HER MOUNTAIN bike a couple of houses back from the construction site for the Matthews’ new house. They were pouring the foundation today. Heather put a hand to her forehead and squinted against the scorching summer sun.

Russell Matthew and his son stood listening to the contractor they’d hired from Yorkton. Eleven-year-old Ben, who’d been in her fourth-grade class two years ago, had shot up another couple of inches this summer. She couldn’t believe how he’d grown.

The noise of the cement mixer ground out all other sounds in the hot, still air. That morning’s forecast projected the mid-July heat wave to linger into the next week, too. Though it was only noon, and she was dressed in denim shorts and a pink tank top, Heather already felt uncomfortably warm. The guys had to be cooking working around all that hot cement.

No sooner did she have that thought, than a Volvo station wagon drove up. Russell’s wife, Julie, stuck her head out the open driver’s side window.

“Anybody thirsty?”

Russell straightened, showing off his tanned shoulders and broad chest. He and the contractor were working in jeans only. Removing his cap, he wiped sweat off his brow as he smiled at his wife. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Hang on, I’ve got cold cans of lemonade and iced tea.” Julie switched off the ignition, then went around to the back where she removed Emma from her car seat. The little girl wasn’t yet one, but already Heather could tell she was going to be tall and honey-haired like her mother.

“Want to help Mommy take drinks to Daddy and Ben?”

Seeing the toddler hold out her trusting arms to her mother, Heather had to look away. For years she’d wanted everything that Julie had. And now. Well, now.

She glanced down at her stomach which was still flat but wouldn’t be for long. She sighed, then re-mounted her bike and continued along Lakeshore Drive. The entire Matthew family called out greetings as she came into view, but she just smiled, waved her hand and kept on pedaling.

Much to Julie’s relief, Heather was sure. Russell’s wife was always polite, but too much history existed between Heather and Russ for the three of them to be real friends.

So Heather tended to avoid the Matthews as much as possible, which was hard in a small community like Chatsworth. Especially since she and Russ both taught at the local elementary school.

But it was summer break, and she had another problem on her mind today.

As Heather pedaled faster, a light breeze off the lake fingered her loose hair and sent cool shivers down her bare arms. Once she’d crossed the railway tracks, she turned left onto Willow Road. Gravel crunched under the thick tires of her mountain bike. A couple of red-winged blackbirds swooped overhead, then settled in the tall reeds growing on the swampy side of the lake. The narrow lane traced the western shoreline all the way to the public parking lot next to the concession stand.

Here she left her bike in one of the metal stands provided for that purpose, not bothering to lock it up. She unfastened her saddlebag with the lunch she’d packed that morning, and set out for the far end of the beach. On her way, she passed several groups of mothers and children spread out on blankets and wet towels along with a multitude of snacks and water toys.

Once she’d left the general beach area, she came across a pair of young lovers, partially hidden behind a clump of dark-leaved shrubs. The girl in a red bikini, the boy in baggy shorts riding low on his hips, were sprawled on an old blanket. The girl smoothed lotion into the young man’s back with long, lingering strokes.

“Hi, Karen. Ryan.”

“Oh. Miss Sweeney. I didn’t see you coming.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Hard to believe these eighteen-year-olds were former pupils of hers. She remembered them both being top students. Ryan was very competitive—about school, sports, everything. Karen’s sweet disposition made her a favorite of everyone’s. Including Heather.

“Enjoying the summer holidays?” Ryan lifted his head and gave her a sleepy, charming grin.

“I am. Looks like you are, too.”

“We don’t get many days off to relax like this. Ryan’s on shift work at the mine,” Karen explained. Many of the locals worked at the potash mines in nearby Esterhazy. “And my mom isn’t on duty at the nursing home today. Otherwise I’d be babysitting my brothers.”

The twins would be in Heather’s class this year, too. She’d heard they were a handful and hoped she was up for the challenge. She regarded the pretty young girl with sympathy. “Well, enjoy the rest of the day, you two.”

She turned and breathed deeply as she continued on her way. The air always smelled different close to the lake. She was almost to the line of evergreens that separated the public beach from a privately owned golf course bordering the other side of the lake, when she finally saw him.

T.J. rested his back against the trunk of an old poplar. His dark hair was in its usual state of disarray, and the lower portion of his tanned face was covered in a light beard. He had on sunglasses, so she couldn’t tell for sure, but he seemed to be watching her approach. She swallowed and forced her chin up an inch. At that moment she realized she’d been clinging to a hope that he wouldn’t show up.

She glanced at her watch. Despite all the interruptions, she was here on time.

“Hot, isn’t it?” She sat about three feet from him, wishing she’d thought to pack a blanket. The grass half tickled, half scratched her bare legs.

T.J. removed his sunglasses. For a second their glances snagged against each other. Then he pulled off his white T-shirt and spread it over the grass a little closer to himself. “Sit here. You’ll be more comfortable.”

She couldn’t really say no, even though she’d have been more at ease if he had kept his shirt on. Not that long ago she’d rested her head on his muscular chest. Now, she deliberately averted her gaze from it.

“I brought food.” Settled on his T-shirt—was it her imagination, or could she feel his heat burning right through to her skin?—she unzipped the insulated bag in which she’d packed their lunch. She pulled out two sandwiches, slices of cheese, a container of strawberries. She unwrapped the first tuna on sourdough and passed it to T.J.

He caught her hand rather than the sandwich. “Your fingers are trembling.”

She lowered her head. Couldn’t he have just let it pass without comment? But T.J. had never been one to let anything go. Throughout their school years he’d teased her mercilessly about her red hair and freckles. And she’d never made a secret about the fact that she despised him for it.

That didn’t stop them from having slept together, though. The first time happened just after they graduated high school. Russ, two years older, had already left for fall term at university and there’d been no promises binding her—much as she’d wished otherwise.

The second time she and T.J. got together was in Saskatoon, where she’d been taking a break from working on her education degree to have Russ’s baby. And then there’d been this April…

No denying the sexual pull between them, much as she wanted to. Even now she felt it, despite the other, weightier, issue on her mind.

“You’re probably wondering why I asked you to meet me here.”

T.J. didn’t say anything. Somehow, that made it even harder. She’d had a whole speech planned out. But in the end, she only managed two short sentences.

“I’m pregnant, T.J. Just thought you should know.”




CHAPTER THREE


T.J. TENDED TO REACT to shocking news with silence. When his ex-wife, Lynn, had told him she was leaving, that she’d found someone new, someone who loved her, someone who didn’t work seven days a week, twelve hours a day, he’d just sat in his armchair and stared at her.

The way he was now staring at Heather. He noticed small things about her. The pattern of freckles across her nose. The way the sun turned her hair to liquid copper. The slight wobble of her lips as she waited for him to speak.

He didn’t know what to say. Didn’t even know what he was feeling. But it was something, all right. His stomach was so tight he didn’t think he could swallow a mouthful of water. The sensation felt very strange and unfamiliar.

T.J. wasn’t used to feeling. For the past few years since he’d left his legal practice in the city and come home to Chatsworth to look after his father’s hardware business, he’d existed in a perpetual state of numbness. But apparently no longer.

In the distance he heard the happy cries of children playing, the buzz from the motor boat pulling a waterskier. Closer, he could hear the heavy sound of Heather breathing.

He had to say something. Had to react. But she couldn’t be pregnant.

“You weren’t on the pill?” He had relived their evening together about a dozen times. In his mind he always glossed over the part where he’d told her he didn’t have any condoms. He couldn’t remember what she’d said in response, only that there’d been a tear in her eye when she’d asked him to make love to her, and no way could he have held back after that.

She gazed down at her hands. Her small, golden, freckled hands, upon which she wore no jewelry other than her sports watch. No rings.

“I know I implied that I was on birth control, T.J. But I wasn’t.”

He almost smiled, as a blush revealed Heather’s embarrassment. That was something else he’d always liked about her, even though she probably wouldn’t guess it from the way he’d teased her.

Teasing Heather Sweeney had become habit for him during their school years. In truth, taunting her had been the only way he could get her to notice him. From a very young age, Heather had time for only one guy at school, and that was Russell Matthew, two years her senior and a virtual god in her eyes.

From what he’d observed from a distance, T.J. suspected she still carried a secret torch for the man. Given that Russ was happily married with two kids, that wasn’t a recipe for Heather’s future happiness. Ten years ago he could have happily offered her a solution to her dilemma. But since what had happened with Lynn—and his daughter—he didn’t have much left to offer any woman. Or child.

“I have a confession, T.J. The reason I let you assume everything was okay was that I didn’t care whether I became pregnant. In fact, a part of me actually hoped it would happen.”

Silently T.J. turned over this new information in his mind. Heather was thirty-five years old. Widowed, with no serious boyfriend in her life. Why would she want to get pregnant?

“I don’t get it.”

Her sigh sounded long-suffering. “There was a reason I was in the bar by myself that night. It’s not something I normally do. But I’d just had an appointment with my doctor.”

He wanted to tell her to stop. If she had a fatal disease he couldn’t stand to hear. Not Heather. But of course he didn’t say anything, and she kept talking.

“The women in my family are susceptible to a certain type of problem—I’ll spare you the details. But the problem can lead to early infertility. I’d had an ultrasound and the doctors told me that it was happening to me, too. I can still have a baby now, but in the future it may be a little more tricky.”

She was throwing a lot at him. And he was starting to feel angry. “Are you saying you used me to get pregnant?”

“I suppose in a way I did.”

She sounded utterly unhappy, but he no longer cared how Heather Sweeney felt.

“Didn’t you think I should have a say in whether or not I wanted to bring another child into this world?”

And his say would have been no. He’d already proven what an unfit parent he made. He’d neglected Sally, even worse than he’d neglected Lynn. He’d lost them both and he knew he had no one to blame but himself.

“It wasn’t like I planned for it to happen. I didn’t know you’d be in the bar that night, or that you’d…come home with me,” she finished miserably. With one hand she plucked at the grass in front of her. “I’m not proud of what I did, T.J. Not the sleeping together part. And not the birth control part, either. I guess you have every right to be angry with me.”

“Oh, hell.” He leaned back using his arms for support and stared out at the lake. The water was silver-blue in the high afternoon sun. At the far end, he could just make out the assorted buildings and trees of Chatsworth.

“You’re sure you’re pregnant?”

“Three months.”

“Oh, hell,” he said again. Yeah, it had been about that long since he’d held her small, curvy body close to his own. During those hours they’d been together, he’d almost felt alive again. He’d almost held out hope for his future.

But she’d woken him at four in the morning. “T.J., you have to get out of here. Mrs. Manley across the street wakes up very early.”

Her shoving him out the back door of her house had been more effective than a Dear John letter ever could have been, letting him know that she considered their latest encounter just another one-night stand. Each time it had happened between them, she’d reacted the same way.

Except, this time, she’d actually gotten something she’d wanted from him. A baby.

“You should have told me,” he muttered again.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Finally she raised her head and let him see her remorseful expression. Then, she turned to the lake, and they sat there, side by side, together, yet alone with their individual thoughts, for many long minutes.

T.J. couldn’t stop himself from reflecting over the past. This wasn’t Heather’s first pregnancy. The summer after her freshman year at university, she and Russell had both been back in Chatsworth working to save money for the next year at school. T.J. had been home, too, for the same reason.

Not that Heather would have noticed. As usual, she’d been totally focused on Russell. Even though they’d broken up, they’d had a brief fling that summer. At the end of it, Russ had returned to university in Vancouver, and Heather hadn’t heard from him again. He’d met Julie that fall. And apparently hadn’t given Heather a second thought.

T.J. didn’t know when Heather had figured out she was pregnant. They’d been back at school in Saskatoon for several months before he’d noticed she wasn’t hanging out around campus anymore. With some effort, he’d tracked her down to a small apartment on the other side of the river. She was working at a Dairy Queen and spending her free time reading. Alone.

He’d pretended running into her was an accident. And he’d promised he’d keep her secret. She’d been obviously pregnant by then, and though he hadn’t asked any questions, he’d figured the father was Russell. He’d made a point of being around to drive her to her doctor appointments, and help with the odd small job around her place. Even though his heart had ached for her, he’d kept up his usual battery of insults and one-liners. He’d instinctively known she’d hate for him to feel sorry for her.

One night they’d watched a movie together. It had been a sad movie, and she’d cried at the end. He’d swear that he only put his arm around her to comfort her, but within seconds they were kissing. He’d felt all the same passion and heat as he had the first time they’d made love.

Inadvertently, the reason they’d been together that time had been because of Russell, too. Heather had been brokenhearted after he’d left for Vancouver. They had an agreement to date other people. But Heather only wanted Russ.

Except for that one night, briefly, she’d wanted T.J. Until the next morning, when she made it clear she considered their encounter a mistake.

The usual pattern.

“So, what’s the plan, Heather? What do you want to do?”

“Well, I’m going to keep the baby, of course,” she said quickly.

He didn’t know why he’d bothered to ask. She’d given up her first baby—Russell’s baby—for adoption. She’d just told him she had a medical condition that might make future children impossible.

“So what do you want from me? Child support?” Money he could give. He had plenty. Lynn had refused to accept a cent after their divorce, on principle. He kept a large amount in trust for Sally, but even so, he was wealthy by small-town Saskatchewan standards.

When Heather didn’t answer, he turned to look at her. She met his gaze and wouldn’t let it go.

“Don’t tell me you want my help raising this kid, Heather. I can’t do that.”

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“Can’t. One day I’ll tell you the story.”

“Is this about your ex-wife and child? I heard Lynn remarried and that she’s living in Toronto. What’s your daughter’s name?”

“Sally.”

“Do you visit her?”

He wrenched his gaze away. Damn Heather. She had no business prying, and he wasn’t going to answer any more of her nosy questions.

“I’m a lousy father, okay? Too bad you didn’t know that three months ago when you picked me to roll around in bed with.”

“Don’t,” she said sharply. “Don’t talk about what happened between us that way.”

“Why not? It was just a one-night stand. Right? You and me are the king and queen of the one-night stand.”

“You have a gift for being cruel.”

“Is that right?”

“Yet, I know at heart you’re a decent person.”

“Wow. Thanks for the resounding vote of confidence.”

“I have to believe there’s a reason we keep ending up going to bed together.”

“Yeah. We both like sex.”

She closed her eyes briefly. She was losing her patience with him, yet he couldn’t stop himself from goading her further.

“Redheads are hot in the sack.”

“Stop it, T.J. I know what you’re trying to do. And it won’t work this time. I am not going to lose my temper with you.”

“Aw. Why not?”

“Because I think we should consider getting married.”



FOR THE THIRD TIME IN AN HOUR, T.J. was stunned into silence. He looked at the tuna sandwiches on the ground between them. Neither one of them had taken a bite of the lunch Heather had packed.

The sun felt so hot on his shoulders. He should have picked a spot in the shade. Heather wasn’t wearing a hat. She would burn. Taking his cap from the ground beside him, he placed it lightly on her head.

How should he react to that last statement of hers? He could tell she was on pins and needles with the waiting.

“Was that a proposal?” he finally asked.

She looked different in his cap. Younger, sportier. But still cute as ever.

“Yeah. I guess it was.”

And she sounded real thrilled about it, too. “Were you listening to me earlier? I’ve tried the husband/father thing and I sucked at it. Big time. You deserve better.”

If he’d thought he was going to get out of it that easy, he should have known better.

“This isn’t about what I deserve, T.J. And it sure as hell isn’t about what I want, or you want. Like it or not, this baby is yours.”

Well, he’d already made it plain he didn’t like it.

“You should have told me the truth that night.”

“Yes, I should have. And you can go on blaming me for the rest of our lives if that makes you feel better. But that doesn’t change the reality of the situation. This is our baby, T.J.” She touched her flat stomach protectively. “And I plan to keep it.”

“I know you do. But you don’t need me to marry you to do that.”



IN FACT, SHE DID. Heather was surprised T.J. was so slow on the uptake. He’d lived in Chatsworth long enough to know this town and the people who lived here.

“I am an elementary-schoolteacher, T.J. I’m in a position of enormous trust, and carry a lot of influence over the young kids of this town. I know most of their parents wouldn’t approve of the example I would set if I had this child on my own. Even I wouldn’t approve…”

“Heather, people will understand. You’re a good person.”

“I’d like to think so. But judging from my actions these past few months, I have to wonder.” Actually, she’d expected T.J. to be angrier that she’d deceived him about her birth control. She, herself, was so ashamed. Yes, she wanted to be pregnant. But not this way.

“You’re being too hard on yourself again. And underestimating the terrible power of my sexual magnetism.”

Lord, T.J. could sound so arrogant at times. But she wasn’t deceived. She knew he was trying to make her feel better.

“Look, Heather, I’m flattered you’d consider marrying me. I know we’ve had kind of a…checkered history, the two of us. But there’s got to be another solution. Some other guy you know who’d make a great husband and dad.”

Yeah, she knew someone like that, all right. Russell Matthew.

“I wouldn’t have asked you T.J. if I thought I had other options.” Oh, no. That hadn’t come out sounding very nice. “This is your baby,” she reminded him.

“You’re sure?”

“T.J.!”

“Well, since I’ve been back in town, I’ve seen you with quite a few different guys.”

“I may date occasionally, but I’m pretty discriminating about who I go to bed with.” In a low tone she added, “Present company excluded.”

T.J. started to laugh, then abruptly stopped. She supposed the cold reality of the situation was finally getting to him.

“Well, what do you say?” she pressed. “Don’t make me ask again.”

“I’m just worried you’re going to be sorry you asked the first time.” T.J. put her sandwiches back into the saddlebag. He stood, dusting grass bits from the back of his jeans. “I’ve got to be going. I have a delivery to make.”

She scrambled after him, gave him back his cap, then did her best to shake his shirt clean.

“Don’t worry about a little dirt.” He took the shirt from her hands and slipped it over his head, then replaced his sunglasses.

She couldn’t help thinking what a good-looking man he was. Dark hair, blue eyes, the kind of skin that tans instantly in the sun and always looks healthy. In terms of physical appearance, T. J. Collins had much to offer their child.

Too bad he didn’t have what really counted.

Commitment. Love. The willingness to put another’s interests above his own.

“I should have known you’d never go for this.” She picked up the saddlebag and heaved it over her shoulder. As she turned to walk away, though, he stopped her.

“Why don’t you come to my place tonight for dinner? I’ll show you something. After, you let me know if you still want me to be the daddy of your baby.”



HEATHER PEDALED BACK SLOWLY along dusty Willow Road. The heat was stifling now. She wished she’d thought to take a dip in the lake before heading home. At least her meeting with T.J. was over. She’d been dreading it since the doctor’s appointment three weeks ago when her pregnancy was officially confirmed.

She wasn’t sure how she felt about T.J.’s reaction. That he wasn’t jumping up and down at the opportunity to marry her didn’t surprise her. She knew she had a way of getting on his nerves.

Yet, she couldn’t deny that he had been the person to help her during the hardest period of her life. Though he’d be the last to admit it, he’d been kind and thoughtful to her during those lonely months when she was pregnant and afraid in Saskatoon. And he’d kept his promise not to tell. As far as she knew, Adrienne, T.J. and her parents were the only ones in town who knew that she’d had a child and given it up for adoption.

Well, Russell and Julie knew now, too. Two falls ago, when Russell had moved his family back to Chatsworth and she’d been faced with his presence every day at work, something inside her had cracked. The old pain of giving up her baby had returned, until finally she’d confessed the truth.

Russ had been shocked at first, but eventually he’d come to accept what she had done. And he’d agreed with her decision not to try to track down their child. She’d picked out the parents. The father was a pediatrician, the mother was willing to stay home full-time. They were good people. Their baby would be happy.

Then Julie had become pregnant with their second child, and Russell’s focus had shifted inward, toward his family once more. Heather had tried not to be resentful. Or to wonder what might have happened had she told Russ she was pregnant before he’d asked Julie to marry him.

Old questions. Old heartbreaks. She was sick of them. This baby inside her represented her future. She wasn’t going to live in the past anymore.

She wondered how T.J. planned to convince her he wouldn’t be a good marital risk. She doubted he could come up with anything to change her mind. He was pretty much her last option anyway.




CHAPTER FOUR


AT FIVE MINUTES TO SIX, Heather left her small bungalow and walked the short distance to the Handy Hardware on Main Street. Since Julie Matthew had come to town, the central drag of Chatsworth had undergone a quiet, but impressive, transformation. Beginning with the café owned by Donna and Jim Werner, and more recently a community project to create a mural on the side of the post office, the local business fronts had been refurbished. New signs, fresh paint, a green and white awning for Lucky’s grocery store and pretty wrought-iron benches on the sidewalks flanked with concrete urns spilling geraniums and alyssum were among the many changes.

The fresh look was attracting visitors, and also entrepreneurs. In the past six months alone, two new businesses had started. An energetic young woman from Yorkton, Leigh Eastbrook, had opened a small ice-cream and sweet shop next to the bank. And a middle-aged couple from Manitoba had converted an abandoned home on the other side of the hardware into Nook and Cranny, a store specializing in farm-home antiques.

Both new enterprises had employed Julie Matthew to help with the design of their stores. And Heather had to admit Julie had done a beautiful job for each of them, creating an ambiance that suited the nature of the individual businesses.

Heather bypassed the main door of the hardware—which had been “distressed” to appear old and full of character—and headed for the unobtrusive side door that led to the two-bedroom apartment on the top floor of the building.

T.J. had lived here ever since he’d moved back to town to look after the store for his dad. His folks had finally retired—his mother had been anxious to do some traveling in the motor home she’d convinced her husband to buy. Right now the couple were somewhere in eastern Canada. T.J. tacked their postcards on the counter next to the cash register so that the couple’s many friends and customers—including Heather’s own parents—could keep track of their progress.

Heather ran up the narrow stairs. She could hear strains of a Spanish guitar recording and smell something grilling. At the landing she found the door ajar. When she tapped on the wooden frame with her knuckles, it inched open.

The living room was empty. She passed through to the kitchen and spied chopped vegetables on the counter, an open bottle of wine, two plates, but no T.J. The sliding door to the balcony at the back of the building was open.

“T.J.?”

He stood at the barbecue, grilling chicken, red peppers and onions. He wore a pair of shorts and a white T-shirt. His feet were bare and as tanned as the rest of him.

Even though she’d known him all her life, sometimes his startling good looks caught her off guard. Now they made her wonder why she’d ever thought he might be willing to marry her. If a man like T.J. wanted to get married, he’d have his choice of women.

“I brought wine.” She held out the bottle. “But I see you have some open on the counter.”

“I do. Would you mind pouring? I don’t want these veggies to burn. The glasses are in the cupboard over the sink.”

He had real crystal, she was surprised to note. She poured the rich red wine into the large glass goblets, then went back out to the balcony. Space was tight, especially with the barbecue and a small wrought-iron table and two chairs. She decided to sit in one of them.

“How do you like being back in Chatsworth?” Though she loved the place, she knew small towns weren’t for everyone. And T.J. had been a partner in one of the big law firms in Calgary before his divorce. It wasn’t like the guy didn’t have options to running a small hardware store in a town of five hundred people, max.

“It’s fine.”

“Do you miss the city?”

“I wouldn’t know. I didn’t see much of Calgary when I lived there. I traveled from home to the office and that was pretty much it.”

He had to be exaggerating. “Didn’t you go to the mountains—to Banff?”

“Only for conferences.”

“So you don’t have plans of moving back there?”

“No. Dad’s already handed over the controlling shares of the business.” He frowned. “Won’t even let me pay for them.”

“How do you feel about working in a hardware store when you have all that legal training?”

“I like the business more than I thought possible,” T.J. admitted. “The strange thing is, when I was a kid I had such bitter fights with my father about this place.”

Heather remembered. Many times T.J. had come to school absolutely furious with his father. On a couple of occasions he’d gotten into serious trouble when he’d tried to run away.

“What did you two fight about?”

“If you asked me fifteen years ago, I would have said everything. Now I think Dad was just so desperate for me to take over the family business that he pushed too hard. As a result, I became determined to move away and get into anything but the hardware business.”

“How did you ever agree to come back here?”

“It was Mom’s suggestion, after my divorce. Initially I was only supposed to stay long enough for them to go on one trip.”

T.J. scraped the chicken and veggies off the grill onto a chopping board, then proceeded to dice. “I don’t know which of us is more surprised about the way it’s ended up. Me, that I like my father’s business, or my dad that he’s actually enjoying driving that motor home all over the country.”

“Well, he’s worked hard. He deserves a break.” T.J.’s parents were both in their early seventies, a little older than her own mom and dad who still ran their own farm about five miles out of town.

Finished with the chopping, T.J. carried the wooden carving board to the kitchen. Heather followed and watched as he tossed all the food into a large ceramic bowl.

“I’ll let that cool a bit. It’s too hot for a warm meal, don’t you think?”

“Absolutely.” He had an air-conditioning unit running somewhere in his apartment—probably in his bedroom. She could hear the distant hum of the motor. Still, the temperature inside was probably in the high eighties. She pressed her wineglass against the bare skin at the top of her chest, enjoying the cooling sensation.

From across the counter, T.J. watched. She felt a different kind of heat knowing he was familiar with every curve on her body. She wondered if that’s what he was thinking about now, too. When their gazes met—and held—she knew he was.

“You look nice in that dress.”

The words were bland. The expression in his eyes wasn’t.

“Thanks.” She swallowed a sip of her wine and backed up a step. He’d looked at her this way before, and she could remember only too well how those situations had ended. She hadn’t come here to wind up in his bed. This time she wanted his ring on her finger.



WITH SOME EFFORT, T.J. turned from Heather and concentrated on the meal again. In the years he’d gone to university and worked in Calgary, he’d never met a woman with the particular combination of sweetness and sensuality that made her so irresistible to him.

He added slices of avocado and chunks of lettuce to the meat and veggies in the bowl, then drizzled olive oil and balsamic vinegar on top. Finally he crumbled goat cheese into the bowl and tossed everything together. “That’s it.”

“It looks delicious.”

They went out on the balcony to eat. T.J. tried not to notice Heather’s generous cleavage in her strappy pink sundress, or to remember how erotic he’d found the bra she’d been wearing the last time he’d been with her.

Unlike many redheads, Heather had a thing for pink. Even her underwear…

Oh, God. He couldn’t focus when he was around her. He’d never been able to. What was it about Heather? Not just her looks, but everything about her from her soft voice to her kind, generous nature had always appealed to him.

Maybe because she was just so different from him. She always found it so easy to laugh, to praise, to offer help. Whereas he tended to be critical and caustic and reserved. No wonder Lynn had left him…

T.J. pushed aside his half-eaten meal and strode into the house. He found what he was looking for in the filing cabinet in his spare bedroom. When he returned, Heather put down her fork and looked at him anxiously.

“Finished?” he asked.

Her plate wasn’t empty, but she nodded. “I guess so.”

“Good.” With one hand, he pushed aside her plate to make room for the file folder. “I want you to look through these photographs. Tell me what you see.”

He cleared their dishes to the kitchen and took his time cleaning up from the meal. After fifteen minutes, maybe twenty, he carried the bottle of wine out to the balcony and topped up both their glasses.

“Well?” he asked, once he was back in his chair.

“These are lovely, T.J., I’m not sure what you expect me to say.” She picked up one photo, of a man in his early thirties, pushing a preschool girl on a swing. “This is your daughter?”

“Sally. Yes. With her stepdad. Do you see the way she’s looking at him?” Without glancing at the photograph, he could. Sally was smiling with delight, her gaze on the man who had replaced T.J. in her life.

“I see,” Heather said quietly.

“About a year ago I hired a private investigator. I wanted to make sure my daughter was doing okay. Turned out she was fine. Better than fine. They make a nice family, don’t you think?” He saw Heather pick up a picture of the three of them walking along the boardwalk on the edge of Lake Ontario. Sally was in the middle, gleefully skipping, while his ex-wife and her new husband smiled with delight and pride at each other.

“I suppose so, T.J., but—”

“No buts,” he said, interrupting her and not caring. “Lynn and Sally were never that happy when they were living with me.”

He took the file from her hands and closed it firmly. He couldn’t stand to look at the photographs. Sometimes he wondered why he hadn’t burned the entire portfolio the minute after he’d received it.

“When I was married to Lynn, I barely saw her. I worked twelve-hour days at the office and weekends, too. I told myself I was doing it for my family, but I really wasn’t.” With hindsight, he knew he’d been addicted to his job, to the rush he got whenever he closed a deal or made a client happy.

“You were trying to make a name for yourself.”

Trust Heather to make excuses for him. “I was a workaholic. Whenever I was at home, I secretly wished I could be at the office. I hardly saw my daughter. I can count on one hand the number of times I changed her diaper.”

Finally he saw doubt shadow Heather’s eyes. “But you loved her…”

“Frankly, I’m not sure I did. I sure didn’t act like it. As for my wife, I figured a diamond bracelet would do when I didn’t have time to take her out for dinner to celebrate her birthday.”

“T.J.!”

At last, she was hearing what he was trying to say. “I really was a lousy husband, Heather. And even worse as a father. The reason I showed you these pictures is to make you understand. You want what you see in those photos, don’t you?”

Heather glanced down at the happy trio by the lake—mom, dad, child—and nodded.

“But if you marry me, you’ll never get it.”




CHAPTER FIVE


August

“LOOK AT THAT. They’re starting to frame the Matthew place.” Adrienne dismounted her bike to watch.

Heather stopped, too, leaning over the handlebars and thinking she wasn’t going to be able to do this much longer. Already she could only wear shorts with elasticized waistbands.

She noticed a few of the workmen stop and look in their direction. She supposed they had their eyes on Adrienne. With her dyed hair—a shade between burgundy and purple—and eccentric wardrobe, Adrienne always stood out in a crowd.

“I’ve seen the plans. They’re going to be using cedar shingles and lots of river rock for the veranda. Arts and Crafts style, I think it’s called.” Adrienne read a lot of decorating magazines when business was slow at her hair salon.

“I’m sure it will look wonderful when it’s finished.”

“Don’t all of Julie’s projects?”

Was there just a hint of rancor in Adrienne’s voice? Heather was glad she wasn’t the only one who found the perfection of Russell’s wife a little tiresome. She tilted her head to one side, watching as a shirtless Russell nailed a two-by-four into place. Surely he’d be quitting for the day soon. It was almost six o’clock on a hot, humid Sunday. She bet Russ would really enjoy a swim about now.

Down the street a few houses, his son, Ben, was kicking around a soccer ball with one of his pals. He’d probably started out helping, Heather figured. This house had been a family project from the start. Julie, an interior designer by training, had drawn the plans. Russ had brought them to work and shown the entire teaching staff: a two-story home with a large porch out front, supported by four tapered columns, two on either side of the generous doorway.

In June the original home had been razed and work started shortly thereafter. Since school had let out for the summer, Russ had worked with his contractor and his crew, his son often by his side.

“Hey there, Ms. Sweeney.”

Heather waved at the boys. Of course, their calls alerted Russell to her and Adrienne’s presence. She tried not to feel self-conscious when he smiled around the nail in his mouth and raised his hammer in salute.

Worried Adrienne might attempt to start a conversation, Heather gave her friend a shove at the small of her back. “Keep pedaling. Your family’s going to be starving by the time we get there.”

Sunday was the one day of the week when Adrienne closed her beauty salon. Her husband and kids were already across the lake at a ball game. Heather and Adrienne were supposed to meet them with a picnic dinner of fried chicken and potato salad, but those plans had been sidelined when Adrienne decided to give Heather an impromptu manicure—which Heather considered a waste of time. In twenty-four hours the polish would be chipped and she’d have broken at least one nail. But Adrienne, once her mind was fixed on something, could be difficult to dissuade. So instead of the chicken feast they’d planned, they had ham and cheese sandwiches in their saddlebags, fresh brownies and fruit.

“My family will survive another fifteen minutes.” Still, Adrienne pushed off from the curb and the two friends cycled in tandem down the quiet street. They passed the kids playing soccer and were soon out of town, winding their way along graveled Willow Road.

Heather thought of the last picnic she’d had across the lake. T.J. had been avoiding her since. She didn’t blame him. She still groaned whenever she thought about how she’d practically begged him to make an honest woman out of her. She’d really put her pride on the line. Talk about embarrassing.

Somehow Heather’s parents had heard about her dinner at T.J.’s apartment and been full of questions. They knew T.J., of course.

Heather had made light of the dinner, refusing to call it a date, all the while realizing that one of these days, she’d have to tell them T.J. was the father of her baby. First she’d have to tell them she was pregnant again.

As if reading her thoughts, Adrienne picked that moment to ask, “Seen anything of T.J. lately?”

Heather grunted.

“I stopped in the other day to buy a new chain for Davey’s bike. If you ask me, he looked like a man with a lot on his mind.”

“I’ll bet.”

“I still think you two should get married. In my opinion—”

“Adrienne. Give up on it already, would you?”

She sighed. “Well, you’re going to have to do something. And soon. You won’t be able to keep your pregnancy a secret much longer.”

Heather felt her friend’s eyes on her waistline. Self-conscious, she sucked in her stomach. “Am I showing?”

“Not really. Though your bust is even bigger than usual—lucky you.” Adrienne had a pear-shaped body, with slim shoulders and small breasts. She’d tried every exercise program she’d ever heard of to try to redistribute her weight, to no success.

Rounding the final curve in Willow Road, they cycled past a family pulling their motorboat out of the lake. From the baseball diamonds on the right came the distinctive hollering and cheering of a good-natured game. A small crowd was gathered on the bleachers behind the fence at home base. Heather spotted ten-year-old Davey in left field. He smacked his fist into his glove, then waved at them.

“Why don’t you watch the end of the game?” Heather suggested. “I’ll see if I can nab one of the picnic tables on the hill behind the concession stand.” They’d have a view of the lake up there, and with all the trees, some privacy, too.

“Sounds good.” Adrienne veered off the road on her mountain bike, already hollering at the umpire who’d just walked the last batter.

Heather kept pedaling past the other ball diamonds, where yet more kids were engrossed in the last innings of their games. She passed the concession stand, waving at Herb who was scooping ice cream for the twins who’d be in her class next year. Coward that she was, she snuck past the boys hoping they wouldn’t waylay her. She wanted to nab that table….

The hill was steep and she eventually had to get off her bike and start pushing it up the incline. She passed a couple necking in a discreetly shaded area, and wondered if it wasn’t Karen and Ryan again.

Funny how fast time went by. It didn’t seem that long ago that she and Russell were the ones making out at the lake.

But it was a long time ago. She had to stop letting every little thing remind her of those happy, carefree days. Maybe if she’d moved away from Chatsworth forgetting would have been easier. But Heather couldn’t imagine leaving the small town where she’d grown up.

She was huffing now. At least the picnic table was free. She could see it, tucked into a clearing, surrounded by poplars. There was one other table up here, off to the right and down a little. Maybe she could grab that one, too, so that the kids and their friends—

“Oh.”

T.J. was sitting on the second table, his feet planted on the bench, an open book in his hands. He was at least as surprised to see her as she was to spot him.

“Heather?”

She dropped her bike to the grass. “That’s some hill.”

He eyed her midriff and frowned. “Should you be doing something so strenuous?”

“I’m fine.” She put a hand on her hip, wishing she didn’t need to draw a breath after every word she spoke and that her T-shirt wasn’t clinging to her chest with perspiration. Sunday was also the one day of the week when T.J. closed the hardware. Just her luck to find him up here.

“So what are you doing? Besides taking your bike for a stroll?”

“Looking for a picnic spot.” If you must know. “Adrienne and her family are joining me after Davey’s ball game. But I don’t want to disturb you.” She bent to retrieve her bike, not looking forward to having his eyes on her as she wheeled the darn thing back down the hill.

“What’s wrong with that table?” He pointed to the free one she’d originally planned to stake.

“You’re reading. We’ll be noisy. I’ll see if there are any free tables by the playground.” It wouldn’t be as scenic, but at least she wouldn’t have to endure the scrutiny of the man who’d spurned her proposal of marriage.

Oh, why had she thought about that? She could feel the backs of her ears start to burn.

“Put the bike down, Beatrice.”

Heather chafed at his use of her middle name. For some reason he’d latched onto it on her very first day of grade one when the teacher had been doing a very thorough job of roll call.

T.J. jumped to the ground and took the handlebars from her. He pushed the bike to a tree and chained it up so it wouldn’t fall.

“What are you doing with my bike?”

“Don’t be so damn stubborn. Take the picnic table. Take both of them. I was about to leave, anyway.”

“It didn’t look like you were planning to leave.”

T.J. glanced up into the branches of a nearby tree and spoke as if to someone he saw hiding there. “Even when I try to be nice to her, it doesn’t work.”

“Your definition of nice doesn’t jibe with my definition of the word.” She thought of all the teasing she’d endured. She didn’t think he’d meant to be mean. But some days she had truly dreaded being in the same classroom as him. “It never has.”

“You’ve always been tough enough to take it.”

Under his observation she could almost feel her waistline and boobs expanding. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“Told anyone yet?” he asked.

“Adrienne,” she admitted, uncomfortably.

“Not your parents.”

Her gaze sank to the ground. “Not yet.”

“Don’t suppose you’ve found a prospective groom, either?”

“T.J.!” As usual, he had to push until she snapped. “Just leave me alone, okay?” Out of all the single men in Chatsworth—and there were a few, if not many—why had she chosen him to go to bed with?

“Hey, why so touchy? Just wondering if that marriage proposal was still open. That’s all.”

“Why would you care?” The heat of embarrassment spread from her ears to her face. Trust T.J. to milk this for all it was worth.

“I’ve been thinking the situation over.” He stood formally in front of her, arms behind his back, feet splayed.

Heather froze, confused by his change in tone. Suddenly he looked, and sounded, just like the lawyer he’d been trained to be.

“Upon some reflection,” he continued, “I’d like to reconsider my reply to your offer of the other day.”

It took a few seconds for what he was saying to sink in. “T.J.? Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. I think getting married is the right thing to do. If you’ll still have me?”



HE’D DONE IT. Choked out the words he knew he had to say. After thinking about their situation for weeks, he’d accepted he didn’t really have a choice. Heather was pregnant, with his child.

So what if the marriage didn’t last more than a few years? As a married woman, Heather would retain her reputation and respectability in the small town she’d always loved. She could hold her head high when she had this baby—their baby.

As for the child, well, he or she would be legitimate under the law. If that wasn’t as important in today’s society as it had once been, T.J. knew it was still worthy of consideration.

“I want to give our child a name, Heather. And I can promise to be a faithful husband and a good provider. Beyond that—no guarantees. I think I’ve been pretty open with you about my flaws. As if you weren’t already familiar enough with them.”

When she didn’t say anything right away, he stuck on a proviso. “Of course, if you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to go through with marriage after all, I’ll understand.”

Heather’s pretty face was still deeply flushed. Obviously she hadn’t expected this about-face on his part. T.J. waited for her reply, not sure what he even wanted her to say.

At one time marriage to Heather would have seemed like the answer to his prayers. But his real life experience with marriage and fatherhood had taught him his shortcomings. Some people were better off alone. He was one of them.

Gradually the confusion in her eyes faded, and her gaze sharpened on him. A shallow frown line formed between her eyebrows as she contemplated him closely.

What did she see? T.J. didn’t kid himself. Heather was as aware as anyone of his foibles and character flaws.

“We’re talking about a real marriage, right?”

“What other kind is there?” Slowly his lips curved into a grin, as he figured out what she was really asking. “You mean will there be sex? Hell, yeah, there’ll be sex. That’s the one thing I know I can do right.”

Her flush deepened. “Oh, T.J., this is so crazy.”

He had to agree there.

“But, yes, I will marry you.”

He knew she was accepting him for the baby’s sake. Yet, for a moment he felt a warm glow of happiness. Fool, he told himself. But knowing he was didn’t change a thing. He took her small hand and squeezed it, wanting to kiss her but not sure whether such a move would be appreciated. He was just stepping in close enough to make the kiss at least an option, when a voice startled him, startled them both.

“T.J.! Imagine running into you here.” It was Adrienne, with her husband and a pack of at least five children in tow. “Want to join us for a ham and cheese sandwich?”




CHAPTER SIX


“OH, HONEY. THIS IS A LOT to take in at once.” Heather’s mother shook the dirt off her hoe, then set it against the shed wall. She brushed off her hands, covered in gardening gloves, then settled them on her hips and examined her daughter’s expression carefully.

“I know.” Heather picked up the basket of tomatoes at her feet. Her parents ran a three-acre, U-pick garden just off the highway that connected Chatsworth to the larger center of Yorkton. In season they had strawberries, raspberries, saskatoons, tomatoes and corn.

“Let’s go have something to drink.” Marion Sweeney led her daughter along the cobblestone path to a gazebo Heather’s father had built just last summer. A pitcher of lemonade and melting ice cubes sat on the rattan table inside. She removed her gardening gloves, then poured two glasses and handed one to Heather.

“How are you feeling, honey?” Her gaze dropped to her daughter’s middle.

“Fine. Tired, I guess. But fine other than that.” She’d come by this morning with the excuse that she wanted tomatoes, but really to tell her mother her news when her father wasn’t around. Heather loved her father, but the lines of communication with her mother were much more open.

Her story had flooded out in a rush of words. The pregnancy, the engagement, the wedding which was to happen in two weeks, everything, in one breath.

“Sit down. Put your feet up.”

Heather did sit, but she kept her sandaled feet on the ground. “Really, I’m as healthy as can be, Mom.”

Her mother had dark hair and fair skin, which she protected with a combination of sunscreen and wide-brimmed hats. She removed the pretty straw one she was wearing today and set it on the floor next to a watering can.

“The fibroids…?” she asked.

“The doctor says they’re small enough at this point they shouldn’t cause a problem.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Yes.”

“What about later?”

“I’ll probably have to have a hysterectomy just like you did.”

After a brief pause, her mother reached across the table for her hand. “A baby. This is wonderful, Heather.”

“I know.” Her parents had suffered almost as much as she had when she’d made the decision to put her first baby up for adoption. When she’d married Nick, they’d been so excited by the prospect of more babies. But then Nick had died. By now her parents had probably given up on grandchildren. Among their contemporaries they were the only ones without even one. Now, finally, there would be a new child in the family.

And a new son-in-law, too.

“About T.J….” Marion’s warm gaze slipped a few degrees right of her daughter. “I didn’t realize the two of you were dating. You said that one dinner was just between friends?”

“We’ve known each other all our lives,” Heather pointed out.

“Yes.”

Her mother frowned, probably remembering all the times Heather had come home from school steaming mad at something awful T.J. had said or done. Her mom didn’t know that during the lonely term of her pregnancy in Saskatoon, T.J. had been her only friend. That was the one time in her life when she could remember him not being totally insufferable.

“I was hoping we could have the wedding here. If that’s okay with you and Dad.” Her mother’s rosebushes, bordering the gazebo, would make a perfect backdrop for wedding photos.

“Well, of course, honey.” Marion’s forehead wrinkled with concern. “You’re not rushing into this because of the baby are you?”

“Actually I am.” Heather couldn’t see any point in being deceptive. “But isn’t it a good reason? I’m going to have his baby. I’m thirty-five and so is he. Neither of us have any other prospects in our lives.”

“That sounds so…clinical.”

“Not clinical. Logical.”

“Oh, honey. I wish—” She picked up the glass of lemonade, took a small sip, then set the glass down again.

Heather rested her hands on her belly. She could hardly wait for the day when she would feel a mound beneath her palms and experience the subtle stirrings of a new life inside of her. In fact, she looked forward to every single aspect of pregnancy. She didn’t even care about labor pains or stretch marks. She wanted this child so very badly.

The sun was blazing again on this late summer afternoon. Heather could hear the buzzing of bees in the nearby flowers. A gentle breeze wafted the sweet scent of roses through the gazebo. The peaceful setting made her wish she could spend the afternoon resting in here.

But first she had to finish her conversation with her mother. She knew there was more to come. Her mother, always diplomatic, was merely weighing her words.

Finally she leaned forward in her chair. “I know you’re a grown woman, Heather, with a good mind and lots of common sense.”

She smiled, and Heather knew that her mother meant what she was saying. She knew that whatever mistakes she’d made in her life, her parents loved her. And were proud of her.

“But are you sure you’ve thought through this marriage idea?”

Heather leaned forward and folded her hands on the table. “Yes.”

Frown lines deepened the grooves on either side of her mother’s pretty mouth. “T. J. Collins is well educated, and financially secure. He’s a good-looking man, too, I can’t argue with that. But, I’ve heard some stories that aren’t very complimentary.”

Heather’s mother was well connected to the gossip sources in town—most of them members of the local bridge club. Marion, herself, was always careful what she passed on. When she’d been a child, Heather had often been frustrated that her mother was so close-mouthed. She had to go to school to hear all the rumors that the other children heard at home.

“You know those old biddies make up half the things they talk about.”

“Now, Heather. They exaggerate at times, I’ll agree. But I don’t believe they actually fabricate stories.”

“Well, what did they tell you about T.J.?”

Marion topped up both glasses of lemonade, clearly uncomfortable. “There are rumors about why he left Calgary to come back and run his father’s hardware.”

“He left because his marriage fell apart. His wife took their daughter and moved to Toronto.”

“Yes, that’s true. But some say there were problems with his business, too.”

“The law firm?”

Her mother nodded. “I heard T.J. embezzled funds from the practice and was asked to leave, on threat of disbarment.”

Rumors of murder couldn’t have seemed more outlandish to Heather. “No way,” she insisted.

“Heather.” Her mother’s voice carried a gentle rebuff. “You’d better make sure you know the truth before you marry this man.”



HEATHER COULD NOT TAKE HER mother’s warning about T.J. seriously. T.J. wasn’t an embezzler. She was so certain, she didn’t even ask him about it when they met the next evening to discuss wedding plans.

They both wanted to keep the event very simple. T.J.’s parents were still on the other side of the country in their motor home, so they wouldn’t be able to attend.

“Mom was all for buying a plane ticket for the weekend,” he said, “but I convinced her she could throw us a party later, and she seemed happy with that.”

With his parents taken care of, she broached the hardest subject. “Have you invited your daughter?”

“Sally?”

She could tell it hadn’t crossed T.J.’s mind that he should include her in the wedding plans.

“She might get a kick out of being a flower girl. A lot of little girls love that sort of thing.”

“She’s only four. And she’s never been anywhere without her mother.”

“Well, naturally Lynn would have to come, too.”

“You expect me to invite my ex-wife to the wedding?” T.J. got up from her sofa and strode across the room. “No way, Heather. This is getting way out of control. You, me, your mom and dad. That’s it. No one else.”

“So I get no say in planning our wedding.” She twisted her hands together, conscious of the fact she wore no engagement ring. She and T.J. had decided simple wedding bands would be enough.

T.J. glared. “Not if it means you’re going to invite my kid and my wife.”

“Ex-wife.”

His mouth tightened. “Exactly.”

Heather leaned forward, burying her hands in her thick hair. The subject of his old marriage was obviously an emotional land mine for T.J. If their marriage was going to have a shot for long-term success, he had to deal with his feelings.

“You’re still so wound up about the past, T.J. Ever considered therapy?”

His dark gaze turned into laser points of quiet fury. “No. And you won’t mention the idea again, either.”

“Okay, then.” She took a deep breath and straightened her back. She would not let him derail this discussion. She was almost four months pregnant. The new school year would be starting in one week. They were running out of time.

“No flower girl. No therapy. So where does that leave us?” She picked up the notebook she’d purchased at Lucky’s two weeks ago and consulted her list. “I’ve booked the minister for next Sunday afternoon. You’re taking care of the marriage license. And the rings.”

She lifted her head to confirm this, and he nodded.

“Mom is making us a small dinner after the service, so we don’t have to worry about food. I thought I’d pick up a bottle of champagne, though…?” Again, she looked up to make sure he was okay with this.

“I’ll get the champagne.”

“Fine. I’ve booked a photographer.”

“Couldn’t we just get the minister to snap a couple of photos?”

She bit her lip. “I suppose.” He was really being a grinch about this wedding. But what could she expect? He was T.J., after all.

Was it possible her mom was right, that she was making a mistake?

Heather closed her eyes, pushed away the dangerous thought. In seven days she was getting married. She couldn’t afford doubts, at least not any more than she already had.

No, T.J. wasn’t perfect. But who was? Nick had been moody at times, fond of going out for drinks with the boys after his shift when she would have preferred for him to come home to her. They’d worked around the problems and found a way to be happy together.

She’d do the same with T.J. She was going to make this marriage a success. T.J. was a smart man. He could learn to be a good husband and father. Her baby would grow up in a happy home.





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