Baby, Oh Baby! (22 page)

Hell. He might as well just address the situation head-on. "Look—I really don't know what just happened here. I'm not in the market for a relationship, so it was really stupid of me to. .. to..

"Kiss me." The words came out soft and hazy and inviting. Her eyes looked that way, too.'

"I beg your pardon?"

"It was stupid of you to kiss me. That's what you were trying to say, isn't it?"

"Well, uh, yes...." For a moment there, he'd thought she was asking for another kiss, and damned if he wasn't ready to oblige.

"You're not the only one at fault, you know." Her voice was soft. "I was kissing you back."

The admission did nothing to make him feel better. In fact, it made him feel aroused all over again. He clenched his fists at his side, determined to regain his self control. "Well, you don't have to worry about it happening again."

Without another word, he hurried out the door and to his car, anxious to put as much distance as possible between himself and this impossible woman. The only problem was, he had an unsettling feeling that distance alone would not solve the problem.

Chapter Twelve

"Hi, Ben! How's Helen?"

"Annie, girl-hello!" Ben's voice crackled over the cell phone. "She's doin' great. The doc says we'll be able to come home next week."

"That's terrific." Cradling the phone between her chin and shoulder, Annie stood under the large pecan tree in her back yard and pushed the swing suspended from its lowest branch.

"She's gonna be sorry she missed your call," Ben said. "Our daughter just took her to physical therapy. The therapist says Helen is her star pupil."

"Tell her to keep up the good work. Sounds like she's going to have you out square dancing before you know it."

"I'm afraid she might at that. How are you doin'?" "Fine."

"Is that nurse still stayin' with you?"

"Yes. She'll be here a few more days, until it's all right for me to pick up Madeline."

Annie pushed the swing again. The baby giggled gaily.

"I hear the little scamp laughin'," Ben said. "What's she up to?"

"Swinging in the backyard. I'm on the cell phone." Annie could picture Ben's frown. "I hear those phones can fry your brain."

"Too late. Mine is already scrambled. Besides, I've got other things to worry about."

"Like that Tulsa attorney, I imagine."

Annie sighed. The last time Ben called, she'd told him all about Jake's unexpected appearance in her life.

"Has he been giving you more problems?" Ben asked, his voice was low and somber.

"Only if you count lost sleep."

"Why's that?"

Because his kisses are hotter than fresh-picked jalapenos. Annie tried to push the thought out of her mind, but it swung back just as predictably as Madeline's yellow toddler swing.

She'd tried to put that kiss into perspective, she really had. She'd tried to reason it away, to tell herself it was nothing more than an impetuous gesture, but she couldn't reason away the way it had felt.

All consuming. All encompassing. Absorbing. Exceeding the boundaries of what it was. Never before had a kiss done the things to her insides that Jake's kiss had done. Jake's kiss had changed things.

It had changed her. But for the life of her, she couldn't explain it or understand how.

It all had to do with the fact that they'd made a child together, she told herself. Although that didn't explain the instantaneous attraction she'd felt the moment she'd first set eyes on him.

"Annie? You still there?" Ben asked.

"Yes."

"So what's new with this paternity business?"

Annie shifted the phone to her other ear. "The blood tests say that Jake is Madeline's father."

A long silence followed. "I know it's not what you wanted," Ben drawled, "but it might not be a bad thing for Madeline, Annie. A father can be a big asset to a child."

"I know." The words came out soft and grudgingly.

"Seems to me that the key to it all is both of you havin' the child's welfare at heart. Last time we talked, you told me he's good with Madeline."

"He is. He's gentle and patient, and he makes her laugh. She's taken a real liking to him."

"Well, dogs and babies are pretty good judges of character. I take it Hot Dog hasn't run him off either, huh?"

Annie snorted. "The way Hot Dog follows him around, you'd think he bathed in chicken livers."

Ben chuckled. "Well, then, there you go. This Jake fella seems to get along with everyone-except maybe you." There was a meaningful pause. "How do you two get along?"

Physically, all too well. Annie gave Madeline's swing another push. "Personality-wise, we're pretty much opposites. He likes everything planned out and written down. He's pretty structured."

Ben chuckled. "I can imagine how well that sets with you."

"Well, like I said, we're opposites."

"Maybe that's good. Between the two of you, you'll provide a good balance for Madeline."

"I suppose." Annie sighed again. "But, Ben, I can't tell you how much I hate the idea of sharing Madeline." "Is that what he wants?"

"He wants joint custody. And Henry says he's likely to get it."

"You're not still worried he might try to take her away from you altogether?"

"Now that I've gotten to know him, I can't imagine him doing that. He knows how attached Madeline is to me, and he really does to seem to care for her."

"How does he feel about you

"Me?" Annie's voice rose along with her eyebrows. "What does that have to do with anything?'

Ben's raspy chuckle rocked over the phone line. "How the heck would I know a thing -like that, anyway?" Annie asked.

Ben laughed again. "Same way you gals seem to know most things. He's single, isn't he?"

Annie's stomach knotted. It was exactly the train of thought she was trying to avoid. "He's a widower. But he's not looking for a relationship."

"No man is ever looking for a relationship, but most men can't help just plain lookin'. You're not too hard on the eyes, Annie-girl." Ben paused a moment. "A little romance between you two would sure solve a lot of problems. Stranger things have happened."

Annie had been trying hard . not . to think the same thing. "No way. He told me no one could ever compare to his wife, and I'm not interested in playing second fiddle. I did that in my first marriage." She shifted the phone to her other ear. "Besides, we're too different."

"Well, you know what they say about opposites. And the way I figure it, he can't be too ugly, if he looks just like Madeline."

"Oh, he's not ugly at all."

Ben chortled again. Annie's face heated as she realized she'd guilelessly taken his bait.

She was relieved to see Mrs. Forest step out on the patio. Annie covered the receiver with her hand and looked at the nurse inquisitively.

"I hate to disturb you, Annie, but you have a guest," the woman said.

"I've got to go, Ben," Annie said into the phone. "Someone's here."

Annie said her good-byes and clicked off the phone. "Who is it?"

"Susanna Morrison."

The name drew a blank. "Did she say what she wanted?"

"No. Just that she wants to see you and Madeline." "Did she say why?"

Mrs. Forest's eyes grew baffled behind her bifocals. "She said she's Madeline's grandmother."

"Madeline's grandmother?" Jake's mother was dead, and Annie's mother was in Europe.

Annie must have looked as confused as she felt, because the nurse's eyes widened. "Well, she did say something about being an unofficial grandma or something. I thought she might be your stepmother. It did strike me as odd, though, because I didn't think you had any family, from what your husband said when he hired me...

"He's not my husband," Annie replied automatically.

The furrows of consternation between Mrs. Forest's brows deepened. "Oh, dear. I meant to say ex-husband."

Annie didn't bother to correct her. It was all too complicated. A lifetime of similar complications suddenly seemed to loom before her, a tangle of misunderstandings and tedious explanations. She heaved an exasperated sigh. "It's all right. Would you watch Madeline?"

"Sure."

Heading to the house, Annie entered the kitchen and walked through the foyer to the front door. She opened it to find a tall, dark-haired woman in an expensive black linen pantsuit, a warm smile on her lovely face.

"Hello," the woman began. "I'm Susanna Morrison. Jake's mother-in-law." She held out her hand.

Annie took it, her mind fitting the information together. "Your daughter was Jake's wife."

"That's tight."

"I'm Annie Hollister. It's nice to meet you." If Rachel had looked like her mother, it was no wonder Jake was still in love with her. Susanna was a strikingly attractive woman—beautiful in a cool, polished, pulled-together way that Annie had always admired. "Jake told me about the accident. I'm so sorry."

Susanna nodded. For a moment, her eyes grew somber, then she drew a breath and smiled. "I know it's odd, me dropping in on you like this, but I wasn't sure if you'd see me if I called."

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, the whole situation is so. . . unusual. I'm not sure how you feel about Jake, much less about how you'd feel about meeting Jake's family." Susanna smiled. "I'm not a blood relation, of course, but Jake is like a son to me."

This woman was so warm and sincere, it was impossible for Annie not to like her immediately. "I'm .glad to meet you. Won't you come in?" She held the door wide and stepped back.

Susanna followed her through the foyer and into the living room, looking around admiringly. "What lovely antiques!" She ran her fingers gingerly over an heirloom side table.

"Thank you. They belonged to my great-grandparents."

The woman stopped before the apothecary case and gazed at the contents. "This is fascinating—like something from a museum."

"My great-great grandfather ran an apothecary in Salina, Kansas, in the 1800s. The stuff in here is from his store's inventory."

Susanna leaned toward the case, peering at its contents. "There really was such a thing as Spring Tonic?"

Annie smiled. "I'm afraid so. My grandmother used to say she remembered her mother making her take it."

"My goodness. Soaps and salves and lotions—and just look at the assortment of teas!"

Annie nodded. She wondered if Jake had told Susanna about her family tradition of reading tea leaves. Deciding not to volunteer the information, she gestured to the sofa. "Won't you have a seat?"

"Thank you." Susanna perched on the edge of the sofa, her long legs folded neatly beneath her. "I want to apologize ,again for just dropping in on you. I was just so thrilled to learn that Jake has a child." Her .brown eyes were warm and friendly. "Jake and Rachel had been trying to have a baby for years. Learning that Jake had this child ... well, it was jarring at first, I have to admit. But then I realized this was as close as I was likely to ever come to being a grandmother. So I screwed up my courage and came to see you."

"I'm glad you did." And she was. Susanna emanated a warmth that made Annie feel like they were already friends. Besides, her visit was a perfect opportunity to learn more about Madeline's father. "So, how long have you known Jake?" she asked, seating herself in the wing- back chair.

"Oh, goodness—for nearly twenty years, I guess."

Annie's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Twenty years?" Susanna nodded. "Jake and his parents used to live

next door to us. They moved in when Jake and Rachel

were in their early teens."

"I didn't realize that."

"Oh, yes. They were high-school sweethearts."

For some reason, the news left Annie with an odd, hollow feeling. "I suppose you knew Jake's parents well, too, then, if they were neighbors."

Susanna nodded. "We all belonged to the same country club, and I chaired several fundraisers for neurological research projects that Jake's parents initiated."

"So you were close friends."

Susanna hesitated. "We were friends, but I don't know that you'd exactly call us close. I don't think anyone was really close to them. They were both very career-oriented. They didn't socialize much. And they traveled a lot, doing research and such."

"That must have been hard on Jake."

"I think it was. He wanted their approval more than anything in the world, but I don't know that he ever felt he got it. They were just so busy...."

Annie thought of Jake's determination to spend time with Madeline. Something in her chest started to ache.

"Jake spent a lot of time at our house as a teenager," Susanna continued. "He was always a very serious young man, always determined to excel at whatever he did. Rachel was very goal-oriented, too. She was just like her father that way."

"Was Rachel an attorney, too?"

"No. She was an accountant—a C.P.A. She was a very practical, pragmatic sort of person. She liked things to always add up the same way. She thought law was frustrating because there are too many loopholes, too many variables." Susanna smiled. "She's the only teenaged girl I know who had a business plan for her life. She had it all written out—what she wanted to achieve by what age. And she did it, too."

"She must have been a remarkable person."

Susanna nodded, blinking hard. "She was. She was very intense, very focused. It was almost as if she had a sense that she didn't ` have much time." Despite her apparent efforts to hold them back, two tears coursed down Susanna's cheeks.

Without a word, Annie moved onto the sofa beside Susanna and patted her hand. The woman grasped Annie's fingers as another tear escaped. "Forgive me. Lately I seem to cry every time I talk about her."

"That's perfectly natural," Annie said softly.

"That's what my therapist says." Susanna opened her purse and pulled out a tissue. "After the accident, I couldn't cry. I just held it all in. It felt like it was too deep, like it would just tear me up if I let it out."

Annie's heart filled with sympathy. "It must have been awful."

"It was. A friend finally dragged me to a doctor, and I'm much better now." Susanna gave a rueful smile. "It doesn't always seem like it, though. I cry at the drop of a hat."