Nine-Month Surprise

“Certainly.” The air in the living room crackled with renewed tension.

Will wished they could sit down and talk, but Leah still showed no inclination to get comfortable, so he forged ahead. “I moved here for a fresh start.”

“That’s why I went to Austin. Ironic, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “My divorce became final this summer and believe me, that marriage was a huge mistake, except for my little girls. I’m not ready for another relationship and I know it. Okay, I acted selfishly. I took what I needed, and you gave it. You have my thanks for that, but you made your own choice for what I presume are your own reasons. You have no right to hold me responsible.”

Her chin lifted. Will wished he weren’t tempted to cup it with one hand and soothe away the tiny distress lines crinkling her eyes.

For a moment, he thought he glimpsed something else in those depths. Disappointment, perhaps. And resolve. He got the sense that he’d missed some subtext to the conversation, but then, he’d never been particularly good at reading people.

“So that’s the bottom line?” Leah said. “You can’t be held responsible for anything, and you don’t want me intruding on your privacy?”

He didn’t like the way that sounded. Maybe he ought to suggest a compromise—perhaps that was what she’d hoped for—but if he backtracked, he was likely to be drawn into an involvement for which neither he nor the girls were prepared.

For heaven’s sake, Will was only human. He’d love to get close to this woman again. But the repercussions could be devastating, especially in such a small town.

“That about sums it up,” he said, and felt like a heel. The worst part was that he liked her more than ever.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Despite the strain in her voice, Leah seemed relieved. What was going on with her?

Her willingness to withdraw so readily bothered him, for practical as well as intuitive reasons. Although accustomed to being an outsider, Will hoped things would be different in Downhome, for his daughters’ sake. He certainly didn’t mean to alienate their teacher. “As for India and Diane…”

“What’s between us has nothing to do with them,” she answered sharply. “They’re wonderful children. I enjoy having them in my class, and I’m glad to see that they’re already forming friendships.”

Will was pleased, because he didn’t relish the prospect of trying to find another school, possibly many miles away. And he knew he wouldn’t find a better teacher. “That’s fine. They love being in your class.”

Leah glanced around edgily. She’d shown courage in coming here, Will reflected. This meeting must be, at least, as hard on her as on him.

He reached out and touched her hand. When she didn’t object, he took it in his, noting how small and firm it was.

Will had a sudden, inexplicable urge to protect this woman, but against what? Or, more likely, whom, if not himself? “I’m sorry it came to this,” he said. “You seem like a decent person. I guess we both acted uncharacteristically.”

When she faced him, moisture glinted in her eyes. “Yes, well, it’s a real mess, isn’t it?”

“Not necessarily.” He didn’t see the problem, as long as both of them remained discreet and kept their emotions under guard.

She pulled away without making a fuss. “It’s important that we go our own ways and that nobody hears a breath about this. Not your housekeeper. Not anyone.”

“Okay.” Although he shared her viewpoint, he didn’t understand the urgency. The woman definitely had other matters on her mind, but they concerned her personal history. “Wait!”

She glanced at him inquisitively.

From an end table, Will fetched the marking pen he’d discovered in one of his pockets. “I borrowed this from your desk and forgot to put it back.”

Leah took it with a wry smile. “Always relieved to get one of these back. I buy writing utensils by the boxcar. Usually, it’s the kids who swipe them, though, not the parents.”

“A bad habit of mine, I’m afraid.” One of Will’s former colleagues had threatened to chain a pen around his neck so he’d stop taking hers.

Leah opened the front door. “Don’t show the photos to anyone for a while, including the girls. They might ask how you came by them.”

“Right.” He made a mental note to store them in his desk drawer. Mrs. McNulty took care not to poke around his home office in case he brought home confidential information.

Leah peered outside. “Looks like the coast’s clear. Good night, Dr. Rankin.”

“Good night, Miss Morris.” He watched her hurry down the walkway. Apparently, she’d parked around the corner, because she strode off until the darkness closed around her. A wise precaution, given the risk of gossip.

The men in this town must have cotton in their heads, Will mused as he went inside. A woman that appealing and intelligent should have her pick of boyfriends. Instead, for reasons he still didn’t comprehend, she’d gone to Texas and tried to capture something—love or excitement, maybe—with a stranger.

Too bad, she’d picked the wrong one.

For a painful beat, he wondered if he’d made a mistake. He’d always dreamed of marrying a soul mate, of sharing his life with someone who understood him in ways no one else did.

But if that kind of relationship existed, he doubted he’d ever find it. Nor, he supposed, did he really want to try. The fallout from his marriage had been too bitter.

Will paced through the house to look in on his girls. Wearing angelic expressions in sleep, each daughter curled to face her twin across the gap between their beds. Diane cradled her favorite doll, while India had piled so many stuffed animals on her bed that it was a wonder she found room to move.

As always, the sight of the twins restored his spirits. With them, as with no one else, he’d made a deeply human connection. It was all he needed.

Yet they couldn’t stay babies forever. Stealing another peek at the new photos, Will noticed that Leah had caught the twins at the very beginning stage of making new friends. One step at a time, they were separating from each other and, he supposed, from him.

A little disconcerted that it was Leah Morris who’d awakened him to this transition, Will went to put the photos in a safe place.

Chapter Five

Leah had decided to walk the half dozen blocks to Will’s house because she needed exercise, although she’d worried that she might be tired heading home. Instead, powered by fury, she practically burned a track down the sidewalk, scarcely noticing the cooking smells wafting from the tidy frame houses on either side.

So Dr. Stiffneck didn’t want to be held responsible for anything. Well, fine by her! She’d intended to set aside her pain and tell him about the pregnancy before anyone else learned of it, but after that little speech, absolutely not!

It was questionable whether he’d buy the artificial insemination story when it came out. But why shouldn’t he when it obviously suited his mind-set? True, he’d apologized, but it had been more of an I’m-sorry-I-got-caught response than one expressing real regret.

And that crack about her being unstable! If she were that volatile, she’d have responded by slapping him. He’d certainly deserved it.

Leah’s pace slowed as she considered how his cheek might have felt beneath her palm. He’d shaved after work, she could tell, and put on aftershave lotion. But what had that business been about offering her coffee cake, as if they were Lucy and Ethel?

Or two people who might become friends.

Friends! Impossible, yet she supposed she’d have to pretend something in front of others. He was Jenni’s coworker and the father of two of her students.

The ticklishness of the situation struck Leah afresh as she rounded the corner onto her street, Bennington Lane. Fortunately, Jenni and Ethan were taking only a brief honeymoon, so she wouldn’t have to rely on Will for treatment, but if she suffered any complications, bypassing him for a doctor in Mill Valley would be tricky.

No sense borrowing trouble that might never happen. As for the delivery, there had to be a way to arrange for another doctor to handle it.

Peering ahead through the dusk, Leah saw that she’d neglected to switch on her houselights. In the dimness, the cottage looked lonesome and a bit shabby, tucked between a two-story home and a vacant lot where her neighbor, Eunice, grew vegetables. With the best part of the season over, the aging cornstalks and sprawling tomato plants gave the yard an unkempt air.