The Housekeeper's Daughter (12 page)

“It brings a lump to the throat,” he said huskily. “This new little being.”

Maya flashed him a pleased smile. She patted back a yawn and settled against the pillow. He watched her for a few minutes, knowing she needed rest. She was vulnerable at this moment as she might never be again.

He touched her cheek. “Will you marry me?” he asked.

Her nearly closed eyes snapped open. She studied him before she spoke. “For the baby's sake?”

“For all our sakes. We created this life together. She needs both of us. And I need you…both of you.”

He waited out the silence, which seemed more fraught with danger than a stand-off at a shooting match.

Slowly, her eyes on his, she nodded. “It—it seems the right thing.”

“It is,” he agreed quickly. “This will be right for Marissa. And for us.”

He would be the best husband and father anyone ever had, he vowed. He would atone for leaving her when she'd needed him the most. He returned her questioning stare with a level gaze.

She pressed her lips together for an instant, then, “We'd better think about it,” she said. “Things might seem different when morning comes.”

Seeing the worry in her beautiful brown eyes, he didn't push. Instead he raised her hand and kissed the back of it. “We'll work it out. Let's take each day as it comes. Sleep now. Our daughter will need you fresh and rested tomorrow.”

He settled in the rocking chair, his feet propped on the bed while he watched his child and her mother sleep. At the moment, life seemed filled with possibilities and endlessly precious to him. It was an odd feeling, one he couldn't recall experiencing in a long, long time.

A baby. It made a difference in one's life. From a distance, he heard the siren of the approaching ambulance.

 

Maya woke with a start to a strange sound. She immediately knew what it was.

The baby!

She sat up as Drake lifted the child and smiled at her. “Hi, Mom,” he said cheerfully. “I think this girl is hungry. The nurse brought a bottle of warm water, but we couldn't get Marissa to drink it. She has a mind of her own.”

“Is she all right?”

“Yep. You need to go to the bathroom or anything first?”

Maya nodded and shuffled across the room. She washed up quickly, anxious to get back to the baby, who was crying. Drake was pacing the floor with her
when Maya returned. She was in a private room at the hospital. She and the baby had been checked thoroughly upon admittance and declared “in fine shape,” by the doctor on duty.

Sitting in a rocking chair, she held out her arms. Drake handed over the child. Maya unbuttoned her top and the nursing bra, then rubbed the baby's mouth against her nipple as she'd been taught in child care classes. A squeezing sensation pulsed through her breasts.

Marissa bobbed her little head around excitedly. She made funny motions with her mouth.

“You've got to latch on first,” Drake advised the baby, laughter in his voice.

Maya continued to work with the baby until, at last, Marissa caught on and began sucking vigorously.

“Aah,” Drake murmured, looking supremely satisfied.

When Maya's eyes met his, they both smiled. It was a moment of triumph, a sharing moment.

A worry she hadn't been fully aware of shifted inside her, becoming lighter. She sighed and relaxed as her first experience as a parent became easier.

Drake went to have breakfast after Maya had hers. He was back in the room within thirty minutes.

A new nurse came in later that morning. “Well, here's our big girl. Six pounds-eleven ounces, nineteen inches,” she said approvingly. “Has she had anything to eat?”

“Yes,” Drake said.

The nurse looked from him to Maya, then back. Her eyes sparkled, but she nodded solemnly. After
taking Maya's temperature, blood pressure and vital signs, then the baby's, she wrote on the chart.

The family doctor came in an hour after that. “The impatient ones,” he exclaimed, smiling at Maya, then taking the baby. He glanced at Drake, smiled and nodded. “Drake, how ya doing? Still in the SEALs?”

“Yeah. For now.”

Drake was aware of the quick glance Maya cast in his direction, but there was no time to explain. He waited silently while the doctor checked out Maya and the baby, then pronounced them both fit to go home.

“Let's get the forms filled out,” the doctor said upon finishing. He filled in the birth information. “Baby's name?” He glanced at Drake, then back to Maya.

“Marissa Joy…” Her voice trailed off.

“Colton,” Drake said firmly. “Marissa Joy Colton.”

He couldn't stop the swell of pride that rushed through him any more than Maya could stop the blush that swept into her cheeks when he claimed the baby as his.

His.

The knowledge gave him a feeling such as he'd never known. That he and Maya had created this tiny life seemed like a miracle. It was something to think about, a future to plan.

Shortly after noon, they left the hospital. Drake steered her into a nearby coffee shop and bakery.

“We'll each have soup and salad and an apple fritter,” he ordered, recalling those were Maya's favorite
when they'd stopped here last summer. “Mm, better bring two glasses of milk, too.”

“Maya, is this your baby?” the waitress demanded, peering at the baby when he placed the infant carrier in a chair between him and Maya.

“Yes.”

“Ohh, can I see her?”

“Sure, but don't pick her up. She's too young to be handled yet.”

“Of course. Margaret, come see what Maya has,” she called to another woman, who came out of the bakery kitchen wiping her floury hands on a towel. “What's her name?”

“Marissa Joy.”

“Now isn't that the sweetest thing?” the older woman gushed, peering at the bundle in the carrier. “She's so tiny. How old is she?”

“A bit over twelve hours,” Drake told them, unable to contain the ring of pride in his voice.

“Oh, my, brand-new and so sweet.” The older woman eyed him. “Drake Colton, isn't it?”

“Yes.”

The woman looked him over, then studied the baby. He tensed for more questions, but she only smiled in the knowing way women did when they figured something out concerning a man and his love life.

Again Maya's face went pink. He smiled tenderly. If she hadn't been so stubborn, they could have told these women they were married and legit and all that.

Funny, but he felt married. After all, he was a father, and he and Maya were husband and wife in all
but name. They would change that as soon as he could arrange it.

“I came home on leave to welcome my daughter,” he said, making his place in this particular scheme of things clear. “And to marry her mother as soon as we can arrange it.”

“Oh,” both women said, their eyes going wide.

He smiled broadly, enjoying their surprise. Glancing at Maya, he saw she looked thoughtful. He suddenly wished she were happy. He wanted that for her.

It wasn't until they were on the road out of town that he asked, “What troubles you?”

“You,” she admitted after a brief silence. “At the hospital, when the doctor asked if you were still in the SEALs, you said ‘for now.' What did you mean?”

“I plan on resigning my commission when I finish my present tour of duty.”

She looked shocked. “No.”

“Yes,” he corrected gently, smiling as he contemplated her delight. “As a married man, I need a regular job so I can come home to my family every night.”

She shook her head. “No,” she said, sounding panicky. “No, it would never work.”

“Of course it will.” He tried to figure out what she was worried about. “Don't worry. I'll be able to pay the bills. There's a company in Silicon Valley that's offered me a position several times—”

“No!” she said vehemently. “I won't marry you, not like that.”

“Why?” he asked, controlling his temper with an effort.

“Because you'd hate it. You'd be miserable. And so would I.”

“I see.” He swallowed hard as the truth came out. Maya hated the idea of marriage…to him.

So he'd been wrong. They'd shared passion, they'd made a child, but love didn't figure into it.

Stunned, he drove the rest of the way to the house in silence. The loneliness shimmered like a veiled curtain before him, beckoning darkly toward a future he was more and more certain he didn't want.

But it was the one he deserved.

“S
he's as beautiful as her mother,” Joe Colton said, holding his three-day old granddaughter in his arms. He settled in an easy chair across from Sophie, whose baby was due shortly. Marissa, by coming early, was the first Colton grandchild by blood. Rand had a stepson due to his marriage to Lucy, so now there was Max and Marissa.

“Grandchildren,” he continued in an introspective manner. “Wonderful babies to romp through the house and our hearts and grow into flowers as lovely as the roses.”

Maya caught the glimmer of tears in the older man's eyes. Glancing at Sophie, Maya realized, not for the first time, that the Colton daughter and River James, a foster child, had also engaged in moonlight trysts last June.

She longed to talk to Sophie, but, even though there wasn't much difference in their ages, Maya had kept her distance from the Colton girls, especially after she started baby-sitting the two youngest boys. Ms. Meredith had made it clear she expected Maya to be available as a servant, not as a companion to her daughters. This fact had always made Maya hesitant to express friendship.

She had always loved Drake and Michael because they had often included all the younger children in their games. And later, there had been the undeniable attraction between her and Drake, first when she was seventeen and he was home from his last year at college, then again last summer.

Last summer. What a time that had been—filled with danger and excitement and the heady experience of falling in love, really in love, for the first time.

She swallowed as the memory became painful. What with Joe Senior getting shot at, it had been a perilous time for all, including the housekeeper's daughter, she reflected with hard-won composure. And now she was the mother of the first Colton grandchild. Marissa slept blissfully in her grandfather's arms, just as she had yesterday with her other grandparents. This was a tangled web, indeed.

The three adults and the baby were in the sunroom, which was warm and cheerful, although the February sun shone weakly through the clouds that gathered along the Pacific coast. Rain was predicted by nightfall.

Drake and River were tending a sick horse, which
might have to be put down. Birth and death, the endless cycle. It made her feel infinitely sad.

“The little darlings may be roses, but parents certainly get a feel for the thorns when they keep waking you up every two hours during the night,” Sophie said with an indulgent laugh. “And this is before she's even born.”

“Payback time for all the nights you kept your mother and me awake,” her father informed her.

Sophie wrinkled her nose at her dad.

Maya closed her eyes as longing rolled over her. She wanted to be like Sophie and River, in love, married and true partners as they planned their lives together.

She and Drake had parted on a tense note when they'd returned to the house. He insisted on marriage, but she knew his heart wasn't in it. That was what hurt. And why she'd had to finally refuse the offer.

Instead of making a place in his life for a wife and child, he was throwing over his chosen path for one he'd decided was best for them. He hadn't discussed it with her. He'd simply made the decision. That wasn't sharing.

Marriage was a series of compromises. No one person could or should give his or her all. Each person needed to contribute to it and to receive due consideration in return. Drake obviously hadn't the slightest notion of those basic concepts in human relations.

She sighed.

“Tired?” Joe asked. “Stretch out and go to sleep, if you like. I'll handle the little one.”

“Get as much rest as you can,” Sophie advised.
“It may be the last you'll see for the next eighteen years. River is already worrying about curfews and dating and things like that.”

This news drew laughter from Joe and Maya. River and Drake entered the room in time to hear it.

“What's so funny?” Drake demanded. He sat on the sofa beside Maya and stretched his arm along the back, not touching her shoulder, but close enough that she felt the warmth from him.

“We were discussing curfews for our girls when they start dating,” Sophie explained.

“Marissa isn't dating until she's twenty-one,” he declared firmly, eliciting another laugh.

“I'm with you,” River agreed. “I'd never sleep if our girl was out after dark with some guy I didn't know thoroughly.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “Next thing we know, they'll be arranging marriages for the babies,” she told Maya.

“Probably,” Maya agreed.

When she looked at Drake, he was watching her, his eyes narrowed in speculation. He probed deeply, holding her in his spell while he searched for answers to questions she didn't understand. He seemed quiet, pensive rather than angry as he'd been since Marissa's birth. She wished she knew what to do about the tangle her life had become.

“I think I'll go to my room for a while,” she said, rising abruptly as the yearning grew stronger.

Taking the baby from Joe, she fled the family scene, feeling very much out of it. She'd hardly got
ten in her quarters when Drake knocked on the door, then came in, bringing the bassinet with him.

“You forgot this in your rush to get out of the same room with me.”

His expression was impassive, at odds with the pain the words should have conveyed, while he positioned the bassinet near Maya's bed.

“Thanks.” Maya changed the baby's diaper, then settled in the rocker for a feeding. She studied Drake, who stood by the window, gazing at the cloud-topped mountains.

“I wasn't rushing to get out of the room because you were there,” she said softly, deciding that honesty was the best way to deal with the situation. “It was my own feelings I was running from.”

He turned to her without speaking, his eyes flashing golden in the lamp she'd turned on to dispel the gloom.

“I realized how nice it would be if, like your sister and River, we were a real family.”

“We could be,” he reminded her with a bitter undertone.

She sighed and rocked gently as the baby nursed rather noisily, then tapered off and fell asleep still holding on. When she lost the nipple, she roused and sucked again.

Maya, glancing up, saw pain on Drake's face as he watched her and their child. Her heart contracted into a hard ball of regret. “Drake,” she whispered.

“Don't,” he said in a rough growl. “I don't want your pity.”

“Would you accept my love?”

The words dropped into the abyss between them, as stark as the pain, as challenging as a duel.

“Are you offering it?”

“Always,” she said. “I've loved you ever since I can remember.”

“Then why—” He stopped, as if to go on would betray some part of him he couldn't disclose.

“Why not accept marriage?”

“Yes.”

She met the haunted look in his eyes levelly. “Because my love isn't enough by itself. I want yours in return. I won't share you with Michael.”

His head snapped up. Shock, then anger, raced across his face before all emotion was masked behind his iron control. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I won't share you with the past.” She drew a steadying breath, knowing they were on dangerous ground. He would understand or he would close her out. It was that simple…and that complicated.

He gave a dry bark of laughter. “We're all made up of memories and experience. It can hardly be dismissed.”

“But part of you lives in the past you shared with your twin, in those final moments when he died and you decided it was your fault. Do you realize how disrespectful that is? As if Michael had no will of his own.”

Maya continued rocking the baby as if she were having an ordinary conversation about ordinary subjects. She knew she was taking a chance that Drake would walk out forever, but the risk was worth it.

“He followed me,” Drake said, so low she could hardly hear the words. “I called him a chicken. He crossed the road because of me.”

“As you would have done had it been the other way around,” she reminded him gently. “You were children, you and Michael. You thought and acted like children. Can't you forgive a child that makes a mistake?”

His hands knotted into fists. Bitterness was etched sharply on his handsome features. “You don't know how it is to live with regret, to know what you cost your family in grief, to face the loneliness of half a life and know it's your fault.”

She could have wept for him, but held the tears inside. “I want the whole man, Drake. Not your soul, but your love, freely acknowledged and joyfully shared with me and our child. We deserve no less.”

“I'll give you what I can,” he promised hoarsely.

She nearly succumbed to the haunted look in his eyes, but she was fighting for their future. “I won't take scraps. It's all or nothing, my love. You can have me and Marissa and the future—or you can have Michael and a past filled with guilt and regrets.” She took a deep breath. “It's up to you.”

He was breathing fast, as if he'd been running. But Maya knew he could never outrun his past. He had to learn to deal with it. Was she asking too much?

“I don't know how to let go,” he told her grimly. “Tell me. If you're so smart, then tell me.”

Shaking her head, she admitted she couldn't.

“You're like that damned child psychologist I saw. You think you have all the answers, but you don't.
Because you don't know. You've never lived through it.”

He headed for the door.

“I loved Michael, too,” she said to his back. “I think he would have adored our daughter.”

Drake froze for an instant, then he walked out, closing the door with deadly quiet behind him.

Helpless, Maya rocked back and forth, back and forth, while the baby slept in her arms. She wondered if she was making a serious mistake in not taking Drake as he was.

There was the baby to think of. Every child needed a full-time father. Perhaps she should marry him, then try to reach the hidden parts of him, to win him with her love.

But somehow, she felt sure this was something Drake had to do on his own. If they were to have a real marriage.

She realized she was gambling with their future as much as Drake did each time he went out on a mission. “He must come to us,” she resolutely told the baby and held the terrible, terrible grief at bay with an effort.

 

The ringing of the telephone jarred her. She answered reluctantly, still lost in sadness.

“Maya, this is your big sister. Were you ever planning on telling me I am now an aunt?”

“I meant to call, but…I'm sorry.”

“Hey, it's okay. So how's our girl?”

“Fine. An angel. And beautiful.”

“Of course. She has designer genes,” Lana teased, then sobered. “How is Drake handling things?”

Maya couldn't hold back a sigh. “He thinks we should marry.” She explained everything that had happened.

Lana was silent until she finished, then she, too, sighed. “I'll be home soon. My job here is nearly done. My patient is settling in nicely with her sister. Her daughter lives nearby. The Homecare nurse comes by everyday. I'll be coming back to Prosperino soon. Call me whenever you need to. Promise?”

“I promise.” Maya said goodbye and hung up. She felt utterly alone for a moment. Then her daughter made a little smacking sound. She smiled, comforted by this small thing.

 

Drake woke with a jerk from a nap. He'd been dreaming, but he couldn't recall the dream. He didn't want to. His dreams were all nightmares, anyway.

Rising from his bed, he headed for the living room. No one there. His father wasn't in the den, either. From the sunroom, he caught sight of Joe Senior outside, working on the fountain in the middle of the patio garden.

He pulled on a jacket and went outside to help. “Is it broken?” he asked when he was close.

His father glanced up with a start, then smiled in welcome. Drake wondered what the older man's thoughts were.

Family problems, he answered his own question. Trouble was reflected in the blue depths of his father's eyes. Looking into them was like looking into his own
soul. Both he and his father were haunted, it seemed, by the past and the present.

“No, no,” Joe said. “I'm just puttering. It's what old men do, you know.”

“Ah, so that's what I have to look forward to in my dotage,” Drake teased.

He picked up the net and dipped some leaves out of the crystal water. His father cleared the spigot where the water usually bubbled. Drake cleaned the filter basket.

“Ready to turn the water on?” Joe asked.

Drake replaced the basket. “Yes.”

The water gurgled, shot a spray up in a graceful arc, then plummeted into the circular pool where goldfish swished their tails and swam lazily through the icy-cold, spring-fed water.

“Getting colder,” Joe said. “It's supposed to rain tonight.” He scanned the sky and the clouds that darkened as the day lengthened into late afternoon.

“Yes,” Drake said absently, his mind on Maya and the baby and the changes that a moment of unguarded passion could make in a life.

Lives, he corrected. More than one life was involved in the present conundrum. His. Maya's. Marissa's. Even his mother and father were involved. After all, Marissa was their grandchild. He sighed, frustrated because he was unable to think through the situation and come up with a game plan. Maya wasn't playing along with him, he admitted with a sardonic twist.

Joe sat on the edge of the fountain. Drake propped a foot on it and frowned at the misty ocean.

“I'm adding a codicil to my will,” his father announced. “To include your Marissa.”

“You don't have to,” Drake told him. “I've arranged for everything I have to go to Maya. She and the baby will be taken care of.”