His Woman, His Child

Damn! He suddenly realized that Susan felt as awkward as he did. The two of them alone here in her house. The house she had shared with Lowell for two years.

But they had to face facts. Lowell was dead. God, how that admission hurt him. He could not imagine a world without Lowell Redman. But no matter how much they wanted things to be different—and they both did—neither of them could undo what had happened. Not what had happened two days ago when Lowell had been ambushed by Carl Bates. And not what had happened in a doctor’s office four weeks ago when Susan had been artificially inseminated.

“We need to talk,” he said as he followed her into the kitchen.

“Yes, I suppose we do.” She filled the teakettle with water and placed it on the stove.

“I’ve been asked to take over Lowell’s job until next year’s election.”

Biting her bottom lip, Susan removed a china teacup and saucer from the cupboard, then opened a canister and retrieved a tea bag. “Are you going to accept the offer?” Her hand quivered ever so slightly as she placed the tea bag in the cup.

“Yes.” Why wouldn’t she turn around and face him? Would it be that big a problem for her to have him back in Crooked Oak for the next year? “I think I owe it to Lowell to bring in Carl Bates and see that he goes to trial. And I think Lowell would want me around to look after you while you’re pregnant.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. The teakettle whistled. As she lifted the china cup and saucer from the table, her shoulders shook and her hand trembled. The cup and saucer crashed onto the hardwood floor.

“Susan?” Hank rushed over to her, stopping her as she knelt to pick up the pieces of broken china. “Leave it. I’ll clean it up.”

She hummed with sorrow, crying in a low, mournful chant. God in heaven, what was he supposed to do? He wanted to touch her, but did he dare? He had to take her in his arms. He had to! She was falling apart right in front of him.

The moment he touched her, surrounding her slender body with his, taking her into his arms, Susan melted against him. Every nerve in his body screamed.

“It’s all right, Susie Q,” he told her, using the nickname he’d given her when she’d been a kid. “You go ahead and get it all out. I’ll be here for you. I’m not going anywhere.”

She clung to him. Sobbing. Trembling. Moaning. He held her as gently as he could, all his protective instincts on high and putting him on edge.

She lifted her head from his chest and looked up at him with red-rimmed eyes. “I’ll be all right.” She stepped out of his embrace and took a wobbly step backward. When he reached out to steady her, she moved uneasily away.

“I realize that you want to do what you can to bring Lowell’s killer to justice...” She paused, took a deep breath and then continued. “If you move back to Crooked Oak—”

“When I move back to Crooked Oak,” he corrected her.

“Yes. When you move back, I’m sure we’ll see each other from time to time during the next year. That can’t be avoided. People will expect us to...to...”

“To be friendly toward each other.”

“Yes. And I want that. I want us to be friends. Lowell would have wanted us to be... If I need you, I’ll call you. But I have friends who’ll be here for me and, most importantly, I have my baby. Having my child to think about will see me through the rough times.”

“My child.” Hank had said the words without thinking, his voice a strained whisper.

“No!” she protested. “This baby is Lowell’s child.”

“I realize you think of the child as Lowell’s, but we both know that I fathered your baby.” Hank laid his hand over her flat belly.

She froze on the spot. “The agreement was for you to donate your sperm because Lowell didn’t want a stranger to father our child.” Susan snatched Hank’s hand off her stomach. “Lowell trusted you to keep our secret, to let this baby be his completely.”

“And if Lowell had lived, I would have adhered to the terms of that agreement. But Lowell is dead. He can’t be a father to your baby.”

“Yes, he...Lowell is...” Tears streamed down her face.

Hank grasped her shoulders. “The child you’re carrying is mine. And whether you like it or not, now that Lowell is dead, it’s my responsibility to take care of you!”

Two

Lowell had been dead ten days. Ten of the worst days of her life. All their plans for the future had died with him—the happy family life that they had envisioned when their baby was born. But Lowell would never see their child—the child he had so desperately wanted. A child that he had known she wanted more than anything on earth.

When the doctors told them that it was unlikely, if not impossible, that Lowell would ever impregnate her, he had been the one to embrace the idea of artificial insemination. She had been reluctant at the thought of a stranger fathering her child, but she’d become even more reluctant when Lowell had suggested asking Hank Bishop to donate his sperm.

“Hank’s said more than once that he’s not the marrying kind,” Lowell had told her. “He doesn’t want a wife and kids.”

“What makes you think Hank would agree to—to donate his sperm so that we can have a baby?”

“Because Hank thinks he owes me for saving his life when we were kids. Besides, he’s the only man I know I’d want to be the biological father of our child. Hank’s smart, a real man’s man and the best friend I’ve ever had.”

At first she had refused to even consider Hank as the donor, but eventually Lowell had worn down her resistance. Lowell and your own foolish girlhood dreams! an inner voice taunted.

“Need any help in here, Mrs. Redman?” Deputy Nancy Steele asked as she poked her head inside the door.

“No, thanks, Nancy. I’ve got just about everything packed away.”

“Well, when you’re ready to put the boxes in your van, let me know and some of us will take them out for you.”

“All right. Thank you.”

“Sure thing.”

“Oh, Nancy?”

“Yes?”

“I’d like to leave a message for Hank Bishop.”

“Certainly. We’re expecting him sometime this afternoon,” Nancy replied. “Do you want to leave a written message or a—”

“Verbal. Please tell Hank that I wish him well and that I appreciate—” Susan’s voice cracked. She appreciated what? That he was going to be in Crooked Oak for the next year? That he had promised her quite vehemently that he was going to be around to look after her and the baby? His baby! He’d let her know in no uncertain terms that, with Lowell dead, he intended to take over Lowell’s responsibilities for her and the child.

“I understand, Mrs. Redman.” Nancy looked at Susan with pity in her eyes. “But I’m sure Mr. Bishop...er, Sheriff Bishop will be stopping by your house to check on you.”

Dear God, that’s what I’m afraid of, Susan thought. No one knows that this child I’m carrying isn’t Lowell’s biological child—no one except the doctors in Nashville, Hank Bishop and Sheila. Would the townspeople believe Hank’s attention to her was nothing more than a good friend looking out for his buddy’s widow?

“Yes, I’m sure you’re right. After all, Hank was Lowell’s oldest and dearest friend. It would be only natural that he’d keep an eye on me, especially...”

“We’re all so sorry about Lowell. He was the best man I ever knew. But you have his child and that should be a comfort to you.”

“Yes, it is.” Susan almost choked on the lie. But this isn’t Lowell’s baby, she wanted to scream. Don’t you see, that’s the problem?

“I’ll go so you can finish up in here. Let me know when you’re ready to leave.” Nancy exited the office and closed the door behind her.

Susan sat in Lowell’s big, swivel desk chair and glanced around his office. No, not Lowell’s office any longer. Not after today. Appointed by the governor, Hank Bishop would be sworn in as the new Marshall County sheriff tomorrow morning.