A Baby Under the Tree (13 page)

Yet even if he gave up his happiness for hers, there was still no guarantee that things would turn out the way he wanted them to.

But how did he want it to turn out?

He wanted to be a part of his child's life. That was for sure. But what about Jillian?

His feelings for her went beyond the fact that they'd conceived a child together and that they would be involved with each other one way or another for the next eighteen years or longer. He still wasn't sure just how far those feelings went, but he'd go so far as to say that he'd like for them to be lovers again.

“Uh-oh.” Jillian's rocker came to a halt.

Damn. Had her pain come back? Had Dr. Ramirez been wrong when she'd said there probably wasn't anything to worry about?

“What's the matter?” Shane asked.

Jillian hadn't meant to gasp—or to forget that she hadn't talked to Gram yet today. So she said, “I'm sorry. My grandmother wasn't feeling well last night, and she promised to call me this morning and let me know how she was doing, but she hasn't.”

She glanced at her wristwatch, noting that it was nearly noon, so she reached into her purse and pulled out her cell. Then she dialed her grandmother's number.

As she waited for Gram to answer, Shane took a seat in the rocker next to hers.

Again, Jillian couldn't help thinking about how supportive he'd been, how understanding. Yet was
his kindness a result of his concern for her—or for the baby?

About the time Jillian was ready to hang up and call one of the elderly woman's neighbors, Gram answered, her voice almost a bark.

“You forgot to call me. How are you feeling?”

“I'm not feeling any better. And my cough might be worse. I have a call in to the doctor, and I'm waiting to hear from him.”

“How's your throat? It sounds as though it still hurts.”

“It does, but don't worry about me. I'm sure it's just a cold.”

How could Jillian not worry? Gram was a widow in her mid-seventies, and she didn't need any more health issues than the ones she already had: diabetes, high blood pressure and high cholesterol.

“I was hoping the doctor would phone in a prescription to the pharmacy,” Gram said. “I really don't want to drive to his office. I don't have much energy.”

What about driving to the pharmacy?

Jillian clucked her tongue. She couldn't help thinking that she ought to head back to Houston and make sure Gram got to her doctor's office, as well as to the pharmacy, to pick up any prescriptions she might need.

“I'm going to come home. I can be there by two o'clock or a little after, so when the doctor does call, try to set up an appointment in the late afternoon.”

“You don't need to cut your visit short. I can call Margie, my neighbor, if I need a ride. Or I can drive myself. I really don't want to be a bother to anyone.”

“You're not a bother,” Jillian said. “And this isn't up for negotiation. I'm coming home.”

After ending the call, Jillian looked at Shane, saw him watching her intently.

“What's the matter?” he asked.

“I need to take my grandmother to see the doctor. She's getting older, and I'm all she has.”

“I understand. Why don't I drive you?”

As tempting as his offer was, as much as she'd like for him to meet the woman who'd raised her—and maybe get a second opinion about his character—she slowly shook her head. After all, she'd nearly jumped his bones this morning, and he hadn't seemed the least bit interested.

He might have made it clear that he wanted to be a part of his child's life, but he hadn't said anything about the importance of being a part of hers.

Besides, he didn't want to live in Houston, and because of Gram, that's where Jillian needed to be. She couldn't very well jump in the car and make a two-hour drive every time her grandmother needed something.

As if that wasn't reason enough, the university was located there. And Jillian was more apt to find a good job or a teaching position in the city.

She'd already given up her dreams, as well as her independence, for a man once. There was no way she'd do that again.

No, she had to remain in Houston. And the sooner Shane realized that, the better.

“Thanks for the offer,” she told him, “but I'd rather take my own car and drive myself.”

His eyes narrowed a bit, as if he wasn't at all pleased by her decision. Or was he finally revealing a bit of the darkness or anger that might lie under his surface, ready to break free?

Shane shifted his weight, glanced down at his feet, then back to her, shuttering any shadow she might have detected just seconds ago.

“Okay,” he said, “then let's go. I'll take you to the apartment to get your things and your car.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

But he didn't comment further. Instead, he led her out of the store, leaving the rocker and anything else he'd planned to purchase for the baby behind.

 

The ride back to Shane's apartment was a quiet one. But what was there to say?

Jillian was leaving and unlikely to return. He'd hoped that she would have enjoyed staying with him, that she would have liked small-town life, that she might eventually consider moving in with him over the fall and becoming a family.

But apparently, that wasn't going to happen.

While Shane wanted to stop her from packing her things and leaving permanently, to insist she give him a shot to prove he could be a good father, he clamped his mouth shut.

He wasn't about to be put into the same no-win position that he'd been in with Marcia. And he even went so far as to wonder if walking away now might be easier to distance himself—before he had a chance to bond with the baby, before he had a chance to see more than
a grainy, black-and-white image of his little girl. Maybe then it wouldn't hurt as badly as it had when Marcia had taken Joey away.

He'd been backed into corners before, when he'd been faced with two choices—one was bad, the other was worse. And this was clearly one of them.

After parking the truck behind Caroline's Diner, Shane walked behind Jillian as she climbed the stairs and entered the small apartment that had once seemed like home.

He waited while she packed her bags, then carried them out to her car for her.

“Thanks so much for having me,” she said.

“No problem. I'm glad you had a chance to see Brighton Valley and to get to know me a little better.”

She went up on tiptoe, placed her hand on his cheek, then planted a sweet, it-was-nice-while-it-lasted kiss on his lips.

It took all he had not to wrap his arms around her and pull her close, kissing her senseless in one last attempt to keep her here—or to encourage her to return.

But the memories of the past—of the fights he'd had with Marcia over his family interference, his job and Joey—everything that was important to him—came pummeling down on him, and he took a step back, letting her go.

Jillian had never met his family, but he remembered the conversation they'd had on the way home from the ranch, when they'd talked about the Walkers expecting a new baby.

Eva's going to have her hands full,
Jillian had said.
I can't even imagine what it would be like to have five kids. Wow.

If she couldn't imagine herself having a big family, how could she ever accept the boisterous Hollister clan?

Marcia certainly hadn't dealt very well with all of Shane's siblings, their spouses and the twelve-at-last-count nieces and nephews. Hell, even Shane had distanced himself from them—although he wasn't sure why.

Because Marcia had accused them of being outspoken and intrusive, he supposed, and to avoid trouble at home, he'd tried to cut the cord. But even that hadn't worked.

So why did he avoid being around them now?

He wasn't sure. Guilt maybe—for staying away so long.

What had they ever done to hurt him—at least, intentionally?

He wondered if she'd feel any differently about them than Marcia had—and hoped she would.

“Did your ex come from a big family?” he asked.

She shook her head. “And thank goodness for that. Dealing with his mother was tough enough as it was.”

He remembered her saying the woman was controlling. Interfering.

“Well, I'd better go,” Jillian said. “Thanks again.”

“Keep in touch.”

“I will.” Then she climbed into her car.

As much as Shane might have hoped that Jillian would be open to meeting his family, he was beginning to realize that he'd only be opening a can of worms
to introduce them. And as he watched her drive away, he came to the sad conclusion that he'd probably been right all along.

Their relationship had been doomed from day one.

A
lthough Jillian had been gone only a few days, Shane missed her more than he'd ever thought possible. But he'd be damned if he would chase after her like a lovesick puppy.

He'd called her a couple of hours after she'd left, just to make sure that she'd gotten home safely, then again later that evening, to ask about her grandmother's condition.

“She has pneumonia and is in the hospital,” Jillian had told him, “but the doctor assured us that she was only being admitted as a precaution. He expects her to respond to antibiotics, and as soon as she does, she'll be discharged.”

“Then it was good that you went home,” he said, in spite of his disappointment that she'd ended her visit
early and his belief that she probably wouldn't come back—even if she could.

“You're right. I really had no choice. My grandmother had hoped to get by with only a prescription and no office visit, so I'm glad I insisted upon taking her in.”

At that point, Shane could have asked Jillian to come back to Brighton Valley after her grandmother was feeling better, but why bother? She'd clammed up that morning, before she'd even made the call to the older woman, so something else had been bothering her. Something she hadn't wanted to share with him.

Shane had chased after a woman before, and it hadn't done him a bit of good. So he wasn't about to do it again.

When they'd said their goodbyes and ended the phone call, he'd turned on the TV, hoping to shut Jillian out of his mind. But it hadn't done the trick. When he'd finally turned in for the night and slipped between the sheets, her lilac scent teased him, until his bed had never felt so empty. Not even after Marcia had left him, which had come as a bit of a surprise.

The next day, he'd gone back to the ranch, hoping that some hard work would help him get his life back on track.

Dan had asked why he'd come back before the week was up, but all Shane had said was that there'd been a family emergency, and Jillian had to return home.

Now it was the weekend—Sunday morning to be precise. And without having any physical labor to ease his mind, he'd decided to drive into Houston to see his
parents, who typically barbecued on weekend afternoons for anyone who cared to show up.

They'd be surprised to see him, since he lived so far away and had used the distance as an excuse more often than not. But it was finally time for him to stop avoiding the family get-togethers and join the Hollister fold once again.

He hadn't planned to drop in on Jillian, even though he'd been tempted to give her a call every five minutes on his two-hour drive to the city. So much for keeping her out of his mind. Who was he fooling?

Now look at him. In spite of his best efforts to leave well enough alone, he found himself heading for her apartment rather than to his parents' house.

After parking in one of the visitor spaces, he made his way to her front door and rang the bell. When she answered and spotted him on the porch, her bluebonnet eyes widened and her lips parted.

He'd been envisioning her for days on end, remembering her lilac scent and her pretty smile, yet he hadn't realized the actual sight of her would steal the breath right out of him.

“What a surprise,” she said.

He grinned. “I was in the area and thought I'd stop by.”

She stepped aside to let him into the small living room.

“How's your grandmother doing?” he asked.

“Much better. She only stayed in the hospital overnight, then I brought her here to stay with me for a
couple of days. I took her home this morning. She wanted to water her plants and check on things.”

“I'm glad she's feeling better.”

“Me, too.”

He waited an awkward beat, then said, “I hope you don't mind me stopping by.”

“No, not at all. Why don't you have a seat?”

He scanned the room, deciding upon the sofa. “Thanks.”

“Why did you have to come to Houston?” she asked, as she sat, too, and rested one hand in her lap, the other on her pregnant tummy.

“My folks live in the Woodlands,” he explained, “just off Arbolitos Drive. And since they've been complaining that they don't see me often enough, I decided it was time to pay them a visit.”

“That's nice.”

Nice?
That's it? As much as Shane had wanted to see her, to hear her voice, he'd hoped to get more than that out of her. But as the initial awkwardness stretched between them, he wasn't sure what to say, what to do.

He probably ought to make an excuse and leave, but decided to give it one more shot. And since he was going to lay his heart on the line once—and
only
once—he decided to level with her about his feelings and ask what she wanted from him.

“You know that I plan to be a part of the baby's life, which means I'll be a part of yours, too.”

“I know.” She offered him a smile. “You can't very well be one or the other, can you?”

Yeah, he supposed that was true.

“I want you to know that I wouldn't be opposed to getting married.”

Her smile faded, although he couldn't blame her for being a little surprised by a semiproposal like that. So he added, “Not right away, of course. We'd have to work through things, but I see a future for us as a couple.”

She crossed her arms, as though bracing herself. Or distancing herself. Hell if he knew.

Should he have mentioned anything about love?

Women were funny about things like that. But how could he profess to loving her when he wasn't all that sure about the depth of his feelings himself? And even if he was, he wasn't sure he could admit to something like that without hearing it come from her first. Throwing those three little words out there would really put him behind the emotional eight ball.

So why wasn't she saying anything?

Damn, he was botching this all up. He'd never been comfortable talking about feelings, not to his family or to Marcia, when the two of them had been married. So what made him think he'd learned to open up about that stuff now, when there was so much riding upon him and Jillian working out some kind of relationship?

“I really care about you, Shane. And I think you'll make a good father. So I'm okay with you being a part of the baby's life, but marriage is…well, it's a big step. I just got divorced. I'm not ready for that kind of commitment, not yet.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Shane wanted to object, although he wasn't sure why.
Jillian clearly wasn't interested in marriage or a future together. And, apparently, being his lover again was out, too. Otherwise, she wouldn't have put him off each time they'd taken a step in that direction.

But there was one thing he would take a stand on, without giving a damn whether he was compromising himself or not. And that was being a father to their baby.

“For what it's worth,” Jillian said, “I'm still trying to prove to myself that I don't need a man to rescue me, even if that means going without and struggling financially. It's important for me to know that I can support myself and my daughter.”

“She's my daughter, too.”

“I realize that.”

Did she really? Then why did she think she had to call all the shots?

The past, it seemed, was repeating itself. And Shane wasn't about to go through that frustration all over again. So he glanced at his wristwatch, then got to his feet. There wasn't any reason for him to stay. He'd offered marriage—well, at least he'd brought it up as a possibility—and Jillian had pretty much thrown it right back in his face.

He wasn't going to beat a dead horse, at least when it came to Jillian. On the other hand, he wouldn't give up his child without a fight.

“Are you leaving?” she asked.

“Yeah, I need to go.” But not because anyone at his parents' house was expecting him. Right now, his heart
was knotting up inside because of all he stood to lose—and he wasn't just talking about his daughter.

He'd fallen for Jillian. As much as he'd like to dispute the possibility, he couldn't. Not here. Not now.

As he walked to the door, she followed him. But he let himself out.

Then he headed for his pickup without looking back.

 

As Jillian watched Shane climb into his truck, she wanted to call him back, to tell him that they had more to talk about. But fear caused her tongue to freeze and her feet to root to the floor.

After she and Thomas had split, she'd been determined to protect herself from getting involved in another bad relationship—and the pain and disappointment that went with it. So she'd resisted Shane and her growing attraction to him.

So how's that working for you?
a small voice asked.

To be honest? Not so well. Her heart ached at the thought of losing him for good, and she wasn't sure how to make things right. Was it too late to even try?

She had to admit that she'd handled things badly when he'd stopped by, but his surprise visit had thrown her off balance, and so had his mention of marriage.

Yet somewhere, deep in her heart, she'd hoped that they could have become a couple someday—and a family. But Shane hadn't said anything about love, and there was no way Jillian would ever consider making a lifetime commitment without that one critical ingredient.

So she closed the front door, locking herself into her apartment.

Yet instead of gaining the sense of security she'd been expecting, a cold, lonely chill settled within her, leaving her feeling lost and more alone than ever before.

For nearly twenty minutes, she continued to struggle with her emotions, as well as her plans for the future, but she was still no closer to a resolution.

Jillian could certainly use a friend right now, but Katie, her old college roommate, wasn't going to fit the bill this time. She didn't just want to chat and vent; she needed some guidance from someone who loved her unconditionally.

So she picked up the telephone and called the one person in the world she could always depend upon for level-headed advice.

When Gram answered, Jillian gripped the receiver as though she could reinforce their connection, strengthening it.

“I've got a problem,” she told the older woman.

“What's the matter?”

In the past, while talking to Gram about the night she'd met Shane and invited him back to her room, Jillian had held back a lot of details, but she wouldn't do that now. If she wanted her grandmother's advice, she would have to lay it all on the table, letting the older woman know just what the problem was—and how it was tearing her apart.

So Jillian told her grandmother everything—about the romantic dinner they'd had, the arousing kiss they'd shared on the dance floor and the fact that Shane had
turned her broken heart on end, jump-starting the healing process and making her feel like a desirable woman again.

She didn't go into the specifics of their lovemaking, of course, but she did admit that they'd been sexually compatible.

Compatible?
that small voice asked. How about down right
combustible?

There was no disputing that, but she did her best to shake off the heated memories. Then she mentioned that Shane's young son had died. She also shared what she'd read about his assault of the suspect who'd been in his custody, the resulting suspension from the force and, of course, his reinstatement after a thorough investigation. She ended by telling Gram that he'd ultimately left the HPD altogether.

Jillian even went so far as to admit that Thomas had been abusive at times, although he'd never gone so far as to strike her. And her concern that Shane might have a short fuse or a violent streak, too.

“Has he given you any reason to believe that about him?” Gram asked.

“Honestly? None at all.”

Gram seemed to ponder that response for a moment, then asked, “When did he lose his child? Was it before or after the incident with that suspect?”

“His son died first, I think. Why?”

“Because that time in his life must have been filled with grief.”

“I'm sure it was.”

“When he snapped with that suspect, he might have
been in a bad place emotionally. And if that's the case, then maybe you should cut him a little slack, honey.”

Jillian hadn't thought about that, even after that day at the park when he'd told her about Joey's death. For some reason, she hadn't put the two incidences together, and she probably should have.

Either way, how could she make an assumption about Shane's character without even asking him what had happened that day? Or to consider the reasons that may have led up to it?

“Thanks for talking to me, Gram. You've given me a lot to think about.”

“I haven't met that young man, Jilly, but I trust your judgment. And it's time that you started to trust yourself again, too.”

After saying goodbye and ending the call, Jillian sat back on the sofa.

Gram had been widowed after losing the love of her life, so it wasn't any wonder that she had a romantic streak, that she believed marriages and relationships could go the distance, even though Jillian's personal experience suggested otherwise.

As hope began to rear its head, Jillian couldn't help thinking—and
believing
—that the older woman might be right.

Had she made a big mistake by letting Shane leave before telling him how she felt—even if she wasn't entirely sure?

She could have told him how much she'd appreciated all the little things he'd done to make her visit in
Brighton Valley special—and enjoyable. Having him with her in the E.R. that day had been comforting, too.

As she thought about the sonogram, about her and Shane watching their baby move within the womb, she remembered his excitement, his support.

And in spite of her fear that he considered their baby a replacement for the son he'd lost, she realized that he'd seemed pleased to learn that their child was a girl.