Anything for His Baby

by Michelle Major

  “No.” She shook her head, moonlight from the window above the sink bouncing off her curls. “Although I wouldn’t use the word preposterous.” She threw up her hands. “Or maybe you’re right. Because it’s crazy to think you might make a decision based on what is right versus what’s easiest for you.”

  She stalked forward, jabbed a finger into his chest. “Rosie isn’t a doll, Shep. She needs a real home. So you’re at the inn now. Then what? What happens when you leave here?”

  “We find another place,” he said through clenched teeth.

  “She needs a home.” Her eyes narrowed. “Everyone does.”

  Before he could respond, she’d brushed past him. He stood staring at the scuffed oak floor until he heard her bedroom door slam shut.

  Why did he do that? Why did he push her away every time she tried to connect with him?

  Because he was stupid and pathetic and terrified that he’d really let her in and she’d find him lacking.

  The way he knew himself to be.

  He turned and made his way back upstairs but sleep was a long time coming.

  * * *

  By Wednesday, everyone at the resort was trying to avoid him. He didn’t blame them. His mood was as dark as a spring thunderstorm and had gotten progressively worse as the week wore on.

  Renovations were on track, and at this rate he’d have initial inspections scheduled with the county building department by the middle of the month. He’d emailed an updated timeline to Trinity’s board earlier in the day and received several congratulatory messages in response, none of which did anything to lift the black cloud that seemed to be hovering over him.

  His cell phone buzzed, and he retrieved it from his back pocket, secretly hoping to see Paige’s number on the screen. Not that he expected her to call. Since their argument Saturday night, she’d been doing her best to pretend he didn’t exist even as she took on more of an active role in Rosie’s care.

  Although he hadn’t seen much of her on Sunday, by Monday she’d presented him with a list of potential nanny candidates, all of whom seemed perfect—at least on paper. She’d scheduled preliminary interviews then offered to shop for new clothes for Rosie, something the girl desperately needed as she seemed to grow out of things in a matter of weeks.

  It amazed and embarrassed Shep how Paige managed to be attentive and loving toward Rosie while effectively ignoring him. He should be happy. Their relationship—if you could call it that—was in reality a business transaction. Nothing more.

  But the frost in the air between them did nothing for his mood.

  He frowned at the unfamiliar area code on the phone then punched a button to accept the call. “Hello.”

  “Is this Shepherd Bennett?” a deep, male voice asked. For a brief second the man on the other end of the line sounded like Shep’s deceased father, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. But no. Not his father, but Shep would have placed money on the fact that whoever was calling him had been in the military.

  “What can I do for you?” he asked, heading across the parking lot and toward his SUV. He wasn’t needed any more today at the resort, and it was clear his presence only set everyone on edge.

  It’s why he’d been so great at his job of finding new real estate investments for Trinity then moving on to the next quarry. Shep could deal with short-term glad-handing and charm. He could wine and dine with the best of them. But actually having real-life relationships was something he’d never mastered.

  “My name is Roger Staniskowski,” the man explained. “I believe you know my daughter.”

  Shep ran a hand through his hair, racking his brain for anyone he’d dated with the last name of Staniskowski. “Um...”

  “Monica,” Roger clarified, impatience lacing this tone.

  “Right,” Shep agreed. “She goes by the last name Stanis in California. Sorry, sir.” It shamed him to realize he hadn’t even known the true last name of the mother of his child. Then it dawned on Shep that he was speaking to Rosie’s grandfather. He stopped at the side of the Porsche, reached out a hand to the hood to steady himself then pulled it back when the black metal nearly burned his palm. He looked up to the bright summer sun and knew the sweat beading along his forehead had nothing to do with the afternoon heat.

  “My wife and I recently discovered that we’re grandparents.” Shep thought he heard a woman’s soft cry in the background. “I’m not certain why Monica failed to inform us of this before now. Suffice to say we weren’t exactly supportive of her plan to become an actress. I believe this was her way of exacting punishment for that.”

  “I didn’t know,” Shep offered, the words sounding pitiful even to his ears. In his shock and anger over learning his daughter’s existence had been kept from him, he hadn’t thought to question his ex-girlfriend about her family and what they knew. “Monica’s career is taking off if that helps.”

  “So we hear.” Roger Staniskowski cleared his throat. “Our daughter tells us you’re watching the baby while she’s filming her movie.”

  Watching the baby. Months of round-the-clock parenting, dozens of sleepless nights, countless hours of worry about the future boiled down to three meaningless words. Shep would have laughed if he weren’t so close to puking.

  “Her name is Rosie, and she’s fourteen months now. Officially a toddler.”

  “Yes,” Roger agreed. “Well, we’d like to meet her.”

  No.

  Shep wanted to argue, to hang up and block this man from ever calling him again. Rosie belonged with Shep. From the moment he’d first laid eyes on her, he knew she would always be the best part of him.

  He also understood he didn’t deserve her. Despite his best efforts, he knew precious little about raising a daughter, especially one who had been traumatized at such a young age. He wondered how much Monica had shared with her parents about Rosie’s personality and what she’d been through. The child psychologist he’d seen before leaving California had told him to be patient, and with Paige’s influence he finally had a glimmer of hope that his daughter might come out on the other side of her ordeal with her spirit intact.

  And, yes, Rosie adored him now. But what about later—the teenage years? How could he ever dream of getting his daughter to adulthood in one piece when he was such a mess himself?

  “Of course,” he found himself agreeing. “It would be good for Rosie to know her grandparents. She can be shy around new people but—”

  “We’re family,” Roger said, his tone strident. The same tone Shep’s dad had taken whenever challenged, which had been all the time in Shep’s case. “She’ll be fine.”

  “You’ll have to come to Colorado,” Shep said, making his own tone firm. He had a feeling Roger Staniskowski would plow right through Shep if given half a chance. “The visits will be short at first.”

  “We’d like to spend the day with her,” Roger argued then said something to whoever was with him—his wife, Shep guessed—that Shep couldn’t make out. “We can get a hotel room in town and she could spend the night with us.”

  “No way.” Shep took a breath to clear the frustration rushing through him. “I’ll be supervising the visit.”

  “Do you really think that’s necessary, son?” Roger asked stiffly. “Dawn and I are her family.”

  “Family she doesn’t know,” Shep countered. “I understand that wasn’t your choice, but it’s the truth. I’m willing to let you see her, but it will be on my terms.”

  Roger was silent for a moment. “Monica wants us to be a part of Rosie’s life.”

  “Monica is halfway across the world, so she doesn’t actually get a say in this right now. I’ve got to go, Roger. Text me when you make the travel arrangements and we’ll work out a time for you to meet Rosie with me there.”

  After another heavy pause, Roger agreed. Shep disconnected the call, unlocked his car an
d then tossed the cell phone to the passenger seat. He climbed in and turned the key in the ignition; his hands gripped the steering wheel as the hot air blowing from the vents slowly cooled.

  His mind raced with scenarios of Monica’s parents meeting Rosie then switched to thoughts of what would happen when his ex returned from the movie set. It seemed ridiculous that Shep had given it so little thought, but when Monica walked away from Rosie he got the distinct impression it was for good. Now he understood that without a petition for full custody, he’d always be looking over his shoulder, waiting for Rosie to be taken from him.

  He couldn’t imagine it but neither could he believe that he was his daughter’s best bet for a parent. How could he be? He’d never been anyone’s best bet.

  That little kick to the gut only made him feel worse, and once again, Shep had no idea how to make it better.

  He drove toward town in a daze, not sure how to process his tumbling emotions. Shep was a master at compartmentalizing his world. For the past few years, he’d been focused on becoming a success, proving that his late father’s opinion of him as the ne’er-do-well son was off the mark. Proving to himself that he was a better man than Richard, whose military career had gone down in flames after he was charged with conspiracy and bribery.

  The scandal had rocked their family, leading to his dad’s suicide and for all intents and purposes, his mother’s subsequent heart attack. Shep had felt vindicated at the time of his father’s arrest. He’d spent years feeling degraded by the hard-nosed army man, always being reminded that Cole was the better son.

  But in the process of dealing with his anger and grief, Shep had hurt his sweet mother and further damaged his relationship with Cole. He hadn’t meant to scorch the earth that was his immediate family, but the results had been the same. If it weren’t for Rosie, he didn’t know if he would have ever made the effort to reconcile with Cole.

  Rosie gave him a reason to be a better man, but how long could he expect to maintain it?

  The thought was like a boulder on his chest, and he struggled to take in a decent breath.

  He drove past a playground situated in a park at the edge of town, imagining Rosie at the age of one of the older kids, happily climbing up the brightly colored equipment or pumping her legs on a swing. Would his daughter be one of the girls in the big group or still on the outside, her early trauma making her separate from other people in a way he couldn’t control?

  Just then his gaze caught on a familiar head of dark curls and he jerked the Porsche to a stop at the curb near the entrance to the park.

  On the far side of the playground, Paige stood with Rosie in her arms. A group of women—mothers, Shep assumed—surrounded them and kids of various ages played nearby. Paige’s hold on Rosie was relaxed and natural, and Shep’s heart squeezed as his daughter’s curious gaze followed the action around her.

  He turned off the car and got out, walked toward the two most important women in his life without a second thought. He’d treated Paige badly, taken out his fear and frustration on her. He was so sick of fighting with everyone in his life.

  Shep wanted peace, and somehow he knew Paige Harper could give it to him.

  Chapter Eight

  “Holy mother of...”

  “Do I have lipstick on?”

  “I didn’t even shower today. Big mistake.”

  Paige frowned as each of the three women standing with her near the play structure stared at something behind her.

  She looked over her shoulder, and her breath caught. Not something. Someone. Shep.

  “Daddy’s here, Rosie,” she said with false cheer, turning so that the girl she held could see her father approach.

  Rosie’s chubby legs pumped as she caught sight of him, and she let out a high-pitched squeal.

  “That’s the guy you’re nannying for?” One of the women, Lauren, stepped forward and gripped Paige’s arm. “He’s so flippin’ hot.”

  “It’s just business between us,” Paige said, even as awareness skittered across her stomach as Shep waved.

  “If I wasn’t happily married, I’d go after him,” Lauren murmured, earning chuckles from the others.

  “I bet my husband would give me a pass,” another of the moms, Nicole, said with a small sigh.

  “Didn’t you say you were looking to hire a new nanny for him?” Lauren asked, tightening her hold on Paige’s arm.

  “Yes,” Paige confirmed. “I’m taking care of Rosie temporarily until Shep hires a permanent replacement.”

  “My sister’s single,” Lauren offered. “You should interview her for the position.”

  Nicole sighed again. “Any position.”

  Paige shrugged out of Lauren’s grasp and turned. “I thought you said your sister hates kids.”

  The other woman nodded. “Yeah, but she’d learn to love them if daddy was a job perk.”

  “He’s not,” Paige said, feeling oddly protective of Shep. “Nice talking to you. Maybe we’ll run into each other on our next park visit.”

  She walked forward, wanting to put a little distance between herself and the posse of lustful ladies.

  “Hey there, sweetheart,” Shep said, lifting Rosie from her arms and dropping a kiss on the girl’s head. He glanced over Paige’s shoulder then gave another casual wave. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friends?”

  “They aren’t my friends,” Paige said, “and unless you want to be publicly molested by a trio of hormonal mothers, you’ll keep your distance.”

  “Whoa.” Shep shuddered. “You make it sound so appealing.”

  Paige sighed, realizing Shep didn’t need her to protect him against anyone. “They’re nice,” she admitted. “I met them here. They’re part of some kind of moms’ group that does outings a few times a week.”

  “I didn’t know such a thing existed.”

  “Me neither,” Paige answered. “I’m sure they’d be thrilled to let a dad into the mix.”

  Shep shook his head, the look of pure terror in his eyes making Paige grin. “Not this dad.”

  Rosie made a noise and pointed toward the row of swings to the right of where they stood. Two of the four were toddler swings with high-back bucket seats. “She loves swinging,” Paige told Shep. “Want to give it a try with her?”

  “Sure,” he agreed. “Would you believe I’ve never taken her to a park before?” His mouth tightened as they walked toward the swings. “How can I be so clueless?”

  “It’s not a big deal,” Paige told him, watching Rosie grin as Shep lowered her into the swing. He pushed gently against the faded yellow plastic and Rosie’s smile widened. She grasped the chains on either side of her head, and tipped back her face to look up at the sky.

  “I need to buy a swing,” Shep said, affection clear in his tone. “I want to see that look on her face every single day.”

  “There’s a huge maple in the backyard of the inn,” Paige told him. “It has the perfect branch for hanging a swing.” She nudged him playfully. “Of course, if you tear the place down to build a road, the tree is a goner.”

  “Are we going to have this argument again right now?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I just like to remind you about what you’re sacrificing when it’s appropriate. Giving you grief is a pastime I’ve come to quite enjoy in the last couple of days.”

  “Join the club,” he muttered.

  “Rough day?” Paige asked. There was something in his voice, a note of hopelessness that seemed out of place.

  “I’m fine. Progress is good at the resort. It’s amazing how much I can get done without a baby glued to my hip.” He glanced at her, one side of his mouth quirking up. “That was a direct hit with the swing and the tree, you know.”

  She nodded and winked. “I know.”

  “The crazy part is how much I miss Rosie during the day.
I’m productive but lonely. How is that possible when she’s only been a part of my life for such a short time?”

  “Kids have that effect on people.” Paige shrugged. “I’m pretty sure we’re hardwired to fall in love with them as a biological guarantee of keeping the species going. You never stood a chance.”

  “Now you’re giving me the scientific explanation,” Shep observed, studying Paige. “It actually makes me feel like less of a loser.”

  “You shouldn’t consider yourself a loser because you love your daughter. There’s nothing more important than Rosie.”

  Shep let out a breath, like she’d said exactly what he needed to hear.

  “How’s the nanny search?” he asked.

  Paige narrowed her eyes. “Good on paper and good in person aren’t the same thing.”

  “Burwd,” Rosie called, pointing to a flock of sparrows taking flight across the bright blue sky.

  Paige listened as Shep talked to Rosie for several minutes about birds and their flight patterns and migratory habits. That segued into a conversation about the sky and the molecules that were scattered across earth’s atmosphere to create the blue hue.

  “I learn so much from your talks with Rosie,” she told him when he glanced over at her.

  “Right,” he said on a self-deprecating laugh. “You must think I’m an idiot having regular conversations with a toddler. Baby talk or whatever you’re supposed to do with little kids doesn’t come naturally for me.”

  “Actually, I love listening to you with her. I must have studied light waves and reflections in a high school science class at some point, but I don’t remember it. Those last two years were kind of a blur for me.”

  “Too much partying?”

  Paige tried to keep her expression neutral. She realized Shep didn’t know about her cancer, and she wanted to keep it that way. She wasn’t sure why it mattered, but she didn’t want him to see her through the lens of surviving cancer, as everyone who knew her background did.