His Woman, His Child

She should have cleared out Lowell’s things days ago, but somehow she hadn’t been able to bring herself to face the task. To clean out his desk, to remove his certificates and pictures from the walls, to remove his books and magazines from the small bookshelf in the corner.

She lifted the silver frame that lay atop one of the open boxes on the desk. A smiling couple looked back at her from the photograph. Her wedding picture. Lowell and she had been very happy that day, the first day of their married life together. Lowell had loved her deeply and had been completely devoted to her. He’d been the kindest, most considerate lover, and her wedding night had been a prelude to many nights of gentle lovemaking.

Susan caressed Lowell’s image with her fingertips. “Oh, you sweet, sweet man. What am I going to do without you? You were my protector. My shield against the world. You kept me safe and secure. As long as I had you, I didn’t have to be afraid of...”

She couldn’t say it out loud. Couldn’t voice her greatest fear. But the secret she’d kept buried in her heart for so long could no longer be ignored. Lowell couldn’t save her from herself anymore. He couldn’t save her from the wild, illogical passion she’d always felt for Hank Bishop.

She clutched the picture frame in her hands, laid her forehead on the glass and wept.

A few minutes later Hank Bishop found her weeping when he opened the door to Lowell’s office. He’d gotten an early start this morning and arrived in Crooked Oak before noon. When Deputy Steele told him that Susan was clearing out Lowell’s office, he walked right in, hoping to offer his help.

He stood in the doorway and watched her as she cried. He wanted to go over and take her into his arms. Dammit, why was it that Susan Williams Redman was the only woman on earth who affected him this way? He had always liked the ladies, although he’d never been a ladies’ man like his brothers Caleb and Jake. And the ladies liked him. They had often commented on his gentlemanly treatment of them before, during and after an affair. But only his best friend’s widow brought forth all the possessive, protective, caring instincts within him.

It’s because she’s carrying your child.

Damn! He’d been a fool to agree to Lowell’s request. But he had owed Lowell. And when he’d agreed to donate his sperm for the artificial insemination, he’d never considered the possibility that Lowell wouldn’t be around to be a father to the child.

Lowell would have made any kid a great dad. The best father in the world. Unlike himself, Lowell had been raised in a normal, middle-class family and had inherited his own father’s wonderful parenting instincts. He, on the other hand, would make a lousy father. As lousy as his own had been before he died.

Hank had always known he wasn’t cut out to be a husband and father.

So, how the hell was he going to handle being a father to the child Susan was carrying? Taking responsibility for that child was the last thing he wanted—but take responsibility he would. Hank Bishop didn’t shrug off his obligations—he never had and he never would.

“Is there anything I can do to help you?” he asked, his voice low and calm.

She jerked her head up and glared at him. “Hank!”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I didn’t think you’d be getting in until this afternoon.” Standing on shaky legs, she smoothed the wrinkles out of her skirt and nervously eyed Hank. “I was trying to get everything cleared out before you got here.”

“There’s no rush about that,” he said, glancing at the three filled boxes on the desk. “Looks like you’re about finished.”

“Yes, I am. I was just about to start putting things in my minivan.”

The moment Susan lifted one of the boxes, Hank rushed forward and took it away from her. Gasping, she stared at him with wide, surprised eyes.

“You shouldn’t be lifting anything heavy, should you?” He glanced meaningfully at her still flat stomach. “I mean, since you’re pregnant.”

Instinctively she laid her hand over her belly. “The boxes aren’t that heavy.”

“It doesn’t matter,” he told her. “I’ll take them out to your van for you.”

“Thanks. I really should be going.” She glanced around the room. “Being here in Lowell’s office makes me sad. Just thinking about the fact that he’ll never—” She choked back a sob.

“Yeah, I know.” Carrying the box under his arm, Hank opened the door and stood back, waiting for Susan to exit. “I promise you that we’ll bring Carl Bates in to see that he stands trial for what he did.”

Susan walked past Hank, accelerating her steps so that she wouldn’t be near him any longer than necessary. He followed her out to her Dodge Caravan, lowered the back hatch and loaded the box inside.

“I’ll get the other two boxes,” he said. “You go ahead and get inside out of the cold.”

She nodded, got in the van and waited. When Hank had the other two boxes of Lowell’s belongings loaded, he knocked on the window. Susan lowered the window and looked directly at him.

“I’ll follow you home and help you store Lowell’s things.”

“That isn’t necessary, I’ll—”

“We need to talk, Susan.” He scanned the sidewalk, noting that several passersby had slowed their gaits and were staring at Susan and him. He nodded and smiled and the onlookers returned his smile. “We need to talk, privately.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

He slid behind the wheel of his Lexus, backed out of the parking place and followed Susan’s silver-gray Caravan down Main Street and onto the highway leading out of town.

He had thought long and hard about what he wanted to say to Susan—what he had to say to her. He just hoped she would listen to reason and accept the help he intended to offer her. No one in this town ever needed to know that the baby was his, but he had every intention of making sure his son or daughter was well taken care of. After he fulfilled Lowell’s term as sheriff, he planned to return to the Bureau and resume his career. But he could be a godfather to his child, even if he had to do it long distance most of the time. He’d visit Crooked Oak occasionally, and when the child grew older, he or she could stay with him in Alexandria from time to time.

Hank pulled into the driveway directly behind Susan, got out and helped her from the van. “Why don’t you go on inside? I’ll get the boxes.”

“I’m going to store most of the things in the basement,” she said. “I’ve already cleared off a shelf down there.”

Ten minutes later, Hank came up from the basement and found Susan in the kitchen. She had remained upstairs while he stored Lowell’s things. He suspected that she couldn’t bear to see those items banished into storage. The only thing she had removed from the boxes before he’d taken them to the basement was the wedding picture Lowell had kept on his desk.

Hank remembered that day. A beautiful autumn day. A simple church wedding with friends and family. A deliriously happy groom. A lovely, shy bride. And a best man who had thought, more than once, about kidnapping that innocent bride.

“I’ve made coffee. I’m afraid it’s decaf,” Susan said. “You take yours black, don’t you? No sugar.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Thanks.” He pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and sat, waiting while she poured the coffee into a bright red ceramic mug.

She poured herself a cup, added sugar and then sat across from Hank. “Thank you for putting away the boxes for me. I wonder if you would do something else for me while you’re here?”

“Anything. Just ask.”

“Lowell’s clothes.” She sucked in a deep breath. “I don’t think I can bear to—”

“I’ll do it. Just tell me what you want done with them.”

“The homeless shelter in Marshallton can use them.”

She sipped the hot coffee.

“I’ll take them over there myself.”

“I don’t know what to do with his uniforms.” She surveyed Hank’s big body. “They’re too small for you.”

“Do you want me to take them with me, too?”

“Yes. Everything. Please. Even his underwear and socks and... Lowell would have wanted them to go to someone who could use them.”

“Lowell was a kindhearted man.”