Military Daddy (11 page)

“I
saw you kiss him last night.”

Startled, Annie looked up from her book to see Olivia leaning against the doorjamb of her bedroom. Dressed in blue cutoff jean shorts and a red sleeveless shirt, she managed to look both smugly teen and childlike at the same time. Raising one finger, she pointed to the ceiling. The sporadic
rat-tat-tat
of the nail gun could be heard everywhere in the house.

Annie knew she was blushing, but she hoped Olivia wouldn't notice. “It isn't nice to spy on people.”

Straightening, Olivia advanced into the room and plopped down on the foot of Annie's bed. “I wasn't spying. I just happened to look out the window and see you two locking lips. You like him, don't you?”

The sweet memory of Shane's gentle kiss stole over Annie. Closing her eyes, she slipped back into the moment. The manly scent that was so uniquely his own, the way his lips had closed over hers with such tenderness, the feel of her heart beating like a drum inside her chest, the sound of his tiny sigh of regret when he pulled away.

“Yeah, I like him,” she admitted.

“Is he a good kisser?”

“That's none of your business.”

“Are you going to marry him?”

Shocked, Annie looked at Olivia in surprise. “What makes you ask that?”

“You're having his baby. It just seems like it would be a good idea to marry him.”

“It would be a very bad idea.”

“Why?” Raising her palm, she said, “No, don't tell me, let me guess. It's complicated.”

“Yes, it is. Marriage isn't something to be taken lightly. Two people vow before God to spend the rest of their lives together. It's about acknowledging a profound love and respect for each other.”

“So you don't love him?”

Not knowing exactly how to answer, she took her time and formed her words carefully. “I care about Shane, but two wrongs don't make a right. We barely know each other. If I were to marry him only for the sake of the baby, it's likely that we would both end up feeling trapped and unhappy. It might seem like the right thing to do, but in the long run it could be the worst thing for the two of us and especially for the baby. Do you understand?”

“Sort of. I guess it is complicated.”

“Yes, it is, but since you're here, I meant to ask you what you thought about the meeting last night.”

Olivia shrugged and picked at the frayed edge of her cutoffs. “I don't know.”

“Was I too boring for words?”

Shaking her head, Olivia managed a half smile, “No, it wasn't that.”

“Then what was it?”

“It was…sad. All those people had such terrible lives—even you and Pastor Hill. It doesn't seem fair. You're a nice person. Why did God do that to you?”

Reaching out, Annie tucked a lock of Olivia's dark hair behind her ear. “I did it to myself. I made bad choices over and over again. It took God and your mother to help me see that.”

“Mom really does help people, doesn't she?”

“Yes, she really does.”

Olivia looked down and tugged loose another string. “When you were in high school and drinking, did any of your friends care? I mean—could someone have helped you then?”

“Maybe, but no one tried.”

“Wouldn't you have been mad if they told on you or something?”

“Probably, but I wish someone had.”

Peering out from under her bangs, Olivia looked uncertain. “You do?”

“Of course I do. It would have meant that they really cared about me.”

After a long pause, Olivia sighed. “I'm worried about my friend Heather.”

“Why?”

“She's always talking about how cool it is that she gets drunk and her folks don't know.”

“They know now. Shane told me that he spoke to her father that day at the base.”

“She convinced them that it was her first time, only it wasn't, and she's been drinking since then.”

“Have you been drinking, too?”

“Me? No way! Mom would ground me until I was a hundred if I ever did that again.”

Smiling, Annie agreed. “At least that long. What do you think you should do about Heather?”

“I was hoping that you could talk to her. Only then she would know I squealed on her and she'd be mad at me.”

“She might be mad, but if no one stops her, she's heading into a life of terrible pain. Have you talked to your mother about this?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“She's always so busy. Besides, she has enough to worry about.”

“Olivia, your mother is never too busy to listen to you. She's a professional. She'll know what to do. I think it's very brave of you to try and help your friend.”

“You do?”

“Absolutely.”

Rising, Olivia started to leave but paused at the doorway and looked back. “Thanks, Annie.”

“For what?”

“Just for stuff.”

“You're welcome, kiddo.”

“Hey, don't you have an appointment today?”

Startled, Annie glanced at the clock and jumped to her feet.

 

Shane entered the house just in time to see Annie come flying down the stairs.

“I'm ready,” she said breathlessly. “I hope I haven't kept you waiting.”

He stood speechless as she rushed past him to grab her purse from the coffee table. It was the first time he had seen her with her hair unbound. It spilled to her hips in a shiny, smooth cape that swayed as she walked.

“Thanks again for giving me a ride,” she said.

“My pleasure,” he muttered. He loved the way her hair seemed to capture and hold the light. The urge to reach out and touch it was overwhelming. It would be as soft and smooth as the finest silk.

Slinging her bag over her shoulder, she came and stood in front of him. Raising one eyebrow, she stared at him. “Well?”

He swallowed hard. “Well what?”

“Are you ready to go?”

“Sure.” His feet felt rooted to the floor.

Pulling open her handbag, she withdrew a piece of colorful elastic fabric. Drawing her thick mane back with both hands, she deftly secured it at the nape of her neck. “Don't we have to actually leave the house?”

“For what?” He wished she would leave it loose.

“To go to the doctor's office,” she said slowly and distinctly.

The word
doctor
brought him back to earth with a thump. “Oh, right. Sure.”

He stepped back, allowing her to pass, and followed her out the door.

I'm a moron. How can I be mooning over her hair when she's pregnant with my baby?

The answer struck him as he watched her walk ahead of him to his car: he was falling in love with her.

She was a beautiful woman, but it was her inner beauty that was capturing his heart. If she cut off her hair and dyed it orange, he would still find her beautiful. He loved her strength and her determination. He loved the way she put her faith at the forefront of her life—even the way she stumbled and fell and got back up to face her mistakes. How could he ever be worthy of such a woman?

At his car, she tugged open the door and looked over her shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

Realizing that he was standing like a statue on the steps, he started toward her. “Nothing's wrong. I was distracted, that's all.”

Did he dare tell her? He was sure that she liked him, but uncertainty held back the words. A year ago he had imagined himself in love with someone else. Someone who'd found it easy to leave him for another man.

Loath to risk that kind of pain again, he kept silent. Annie had made it plain from the start that she had her own life to live. Granting him the opportunity to stay involved with their child was a far cry from asking for a romantic relationship.

As he drove through the busy streets toward the clinic, he knew that he wouldn't say anything yet. Not until he was certain that Annie returned his feelings. If only his time with her wasn't so short.

Anything could happen while he was stationed in Germany. Annie could meet someone else.

“You need to turn right at the next corner,” she said, pointing ahead.

“Thanks.” He slowed the car.

“Shane, are you okay?”

He looked at her sharply. “Why do you ask?”

“You've been awfully quiet today.”

“I'll try to talk it up on the way home.”

“Are you nervous about coming to the doctor with me?”

“Now that you mention it—what if they don't have any good magazines in the waiting room?”

“They have a nice assortment. I'm sure you'll find something to interest you.”

“Are you nervous?”

“No. I just hope I haven't gained too much weight. I hate getting on his scale. It weighs at least five pounds heavier than the one at home. Talk about depressing.”

“You're no bigger than a minute. Why would you worry about your weight?”

“Okay, that was spoken like a man.”

Pulling up beside the small redbrick structure with a blue-and-white medical symbol painted on the large plate-glass window, he parked the car. “Guys worry about important things.”

“Like what?”

“Like is my hair getting thin? Or do these jeans make me look fat?”

“Ha-ha.”

Annie pushed open her door and stepped out of the car. How was it that Shane could make her smile so easily? His company lightened her spirits and made her feel strangely happy. Could she trust the emotions he evoked? Were they real or only a matter of wishful thinking?

He joined her as she waited by the parking meter. She looked him up and down. His jeans were slightly dusty from his work on the roof and his blue T-shirt had seen better days, but to her eyes he looked tall, handsome and self-assured.

“They don't make you look fat at all, sweetie.”

He half turned to look down at his hips. “You don't think so? Whew, that's a relief.”

“I imagine your horse thinks the same thing when you dismount.” She headed toward the building.

“Hey, that's not nice.” He hurried to open the door for her.

“Ah, but is it true?” she threw over her shoulder as she walked past him.

Inside the building, the sounds of pop music came from a small television in the far corner of a long, narrow waiting room. The pale blue walls sported numerous posters with health information above the white plastic chairs that lined the perimeter. An elderly woman with a bandage on her hand glanced up as they came in, as did the two teenage girls in front of the TV. A harried mother holding a crying baby to her shoulder while a toddler tugged at the hem of her skirt paid them no attention at all.

Glancing at Shane, Annie said, “Why don't you have a seat?”

He nodded and made his way to an empty chair.

Annie crossed to the glass-fronted reception desk and spoke to the gray-haired woman seated behind it. “Hi, I'm Annie Delmar and I'm here for an OB appointment with Dr. Merrick.”

“Have you been seen here before?”

“Yes, back in March.”

“I'll need you to fill out this paperwork and then have a seat.”

“Can you tell me how long it will be?”

The woman pushed a clipboard toward her. “It'll take as long as it takes.”

Accepting the paperwork and a pen, Annie made her way to a chair beside Shane. He leaned toward her and motioned toward the toddler, who had begun screaming at the top of his lungs. “Are you sure you want one of those?”

Annie stared at him in openmouthed astonishment. “Shame on you.”

Looking contrite, he held up his hands. “Kidding. Just kidding.”

“I hope so.”

A nurse came into the room with a manila folder in her hands. “Belinda Kemp?”

“That's me.” The woman with the baby herded the toddler in front of her as she followed the nurse down the hall.

Annie glared at Shane once more, then began filling out the forms the receptionist had given her. A short while later the same nurse came to the doorway and called her name.

The doctor, a man in his late fifties with a worn and haggard face, sat waiting for her. He didn't bother to look up when Annie was shown into the exam room. “Hello, Miss Delmar. How have you been feeling?”

“Good. The morning sickness is gone, and except for feeling tired and a little swelling in my ankles, I'm doing okay.”