WHOSE CHILD?

by Susan Gable

  Lexie set the mug on the table and slumped back in the chair. "I tried to talk to David about it. He didn't believe what I saw. Couldn't imagine his wife would do anything like that. I think he loved her a lot."

  "So, you ran." Pappy shook his head. "I knew you'd run away from something, Missy, knew it probably had to do with the little one's father, but I never imagined it was anything like this."

  "I had to run," she whispered. "I had to protect her."

  "'Course you did." His rough hand closed over hers. "You did the right thing."

  "Tell that to him." She jerked her head toward the ceiling.

  "Don't think I won't, 'cause I will." He squeezed her hand. "Where's his wife now? Surely he doesn't think you're going to let Sarah go anywhere near a woman like that?"

  "She's dead." Lexie puffed her cheeks and blew out a slow breath. "And God forgive me, but I can't be sorry for that."

  "Don't think there's anything you need to be asking God's forgiveness for. I'm sure he understands." He squeezed her hand one more time, then let go. "Don't you fret. Things have a way of working themselves out."

  "Oh, Pap. I wish I could believe you. But we both know life doesn't work like that. I mean, look at me. I ended up a single mom, struggling to support myself and my little girl. A woman with a master's degree in library science, but not able to use it. Hiding. It sure wasn't what I had in mind."

  "You've done a helluva job, Missy. Don't you ever forget that."

  "I couldn't have done it without you." She offered him a tremulous smile.

  He hmmphed again. "What kind of man is he?"

  "Well, except for not listening to me, not wanting to believe what I said about his wife, which really annoyed the heck out of me, David is a good man. Why?"

  "If he's a good man, then everything's gonna be jest fine." He grabbed another cookie and pushed back his chair. "Leave the dishes till morning, Missy, and go get some sleep. My old bones need some more rest, too. Things'll look better in the morning light." He brushed his palm against her shoulder as he moved past, leaving her alone in the kitchen with only the hum of the fridge and her thoughts for company.

  If only she could be as sure as he was.

  Lexie carried her mug to the sink, then moved to bag the bread and put all the cookies away in tins. She switched off the baby monitor then slowly climbed the stairs. She went into Sarah's room and stood by the bed. In sleep, the little girl always looked so peaceful. So calm. Even now she slept as though all was right in the world.

  But Lexie knew that the world—her world—would never be the same again. Bending over, she kissed the child, then entered her own room through the connecting door. The bed frame creaked as she perched on the edge of the mattress. In the dim light that crept in from Sarah's Emerald City night-light, the telephone gleamed. She reached for it, then glanced at the clock on the chest of drawers across the room: 4:17. Which meant that back home, in Pennsylvania, it was 6:17. Early, but not too early. She picked up the receiver and pecked out a pattern that she hadn't used in four and a half years.

  A familiar voice answered. Warmth and blessed relief spread through her.

  "Mom?" She heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Mom, it's me. Lexie."

  "Lexie! Oh my!" Her mother coughed, then began to sob.

  Lexie blinked back her own tears, struggled to speak around the volume of War and Peace suddenly stuck in her throat. "Don't cry. Mom. I'm sorry I haven't been in touch… Oh, I've missed you so much!"

  It took a few moments for her mother to regain enough composure to speak. When she did, her voice was laced with sniffles. "Oh, sweetheart, we've missed you, too. You're okay? Is David with you?"

  "I'm fine. Well … except for the fact that yes, David's with me."

  "But honey, that's good news! When are you all coming home? I can't wait to meet my namesake." Another sob choked her mom.

  Lexie brushed away the moisture on her cheeks.

  How did her mother know she'd named the baby after her? "Oh, Mom. I can't come back to Erie."

  "But—but, why not? David told you about Angela, right? Honey, the baby is safe now."

  "I know, Mom, but…" How could she explain to her mother that she had a new home now? And another "family" member who depended on her? Pappy wasn't a blood relation, but Lexie loved him and couldn't just abandon him any more than he'd abandoned Sarah and her in their moment of need.

  Besides, at home, she'd always been the one taken care of. As the baby of the family, and the only girl, she'd been spoiled.

  It was nice to be needed.

  "Right now we're focusing on letting Sarah get to know David in her own environment. Finding out David is her father has been kind of a shock to her." Lexie stifled an ill-timed chuckle as she recalled Sarah's response. It hadn't been funny at the time, but in hindsight, it was. Sort of.

  "Don't you think it would be better to get it all over with at once? You know, rip the bandages off in a hurry, then let her heal? Honey, we haven't seen you in more than four years!"

  Her mom had always advocated jumping into the cold water in one big leap, whereas Lexie preferred the one-toe-at-a-time method. "I want to see you, too, but Sarah's a very sensitive child."

  "Bring her here and we'll all help her deal with the changes."

  "Mom, I don't know that David's going to want me—or any of us—anywhere near Sarah when he brings her to Erie. He's pretty ticked at me."

  "I know, honey. And believe me, I can understand how he feels. He lost time with his daughter just like we lost time with you. Only he lost the really special beginning stuff, like seeing her born, watching her grow from an infant into a child. But we're as much family to David as you are to Sarah. Give him time, honey."

  Guilt prodded her. She'd conveniently forgotten how much David had missed out in his daughter's life—because of her. "Time is what we all need right now, Mom. Time to sort things out. If it's this confusing for us grown-ups, imagine how Sarah feels."

  "All right, honey. Well, when you get her accustomed to David, we'll have a big party to welcome you all back home."

  "Oh, Mom." Lexie's voice dropped to a whisper. "How can I come home and watch him raise her without me after I've been her mother this long? She's mine, Mom." Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. "I love her."

  "Of course you do." A heavy sigh echoed across the country via the long-distance line. "I tried to warn you about that before you became David's surrogate, honey."

  "I would have been fine if things went the way they were supposed to." Right? Would she have felt this strongly for Sarah if she'd given up the baby at birth like she was supposed to, had played the doting honorary auntie to the little girl instead of becoming her mother?

  Giving her up now was going to be the hardest thing she'd ever done in her life.

  * * *

  Chapter 4

  « ^ »

  David clutched a gift bag in one hand and the railing in the other as he descended the narrow stairs to the kitchen. Opening the door, the scents of cinnamon and fresh coffee assailed him. Lexie bustled around the island wearing a full apron over a beige dress with little pink flowers.

  He cleared his throat. "Good morning."

  She turned to him. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, as though she'd spent the whole night crying.

  He ignored the tug that created in his gut.

  "I hope you slept well?" she said.

  Better than you, apparently didn't seem like a wise thing to say. "Yes, thanks."

  "Well, since this is a bed-and-breakfast, and you've had the bed, let me get your breakfast for you." She poured a mug of coffee. "Usually I set breakfast for guests in the dining room. This way." She moved toward the doorway.

  "I'd just as soon eat in here, if that's okay."

  She shrugged. "Suit yourself." She handed him the coffee. "Breakfast on Sundays is homemade cinnamon buns. Or, if you prefer, whole wheat toast or bagels, and eggs. I make a mean omelette."

  "Cinn
amon rolls sound—and smell—delicious." He looked her over again. The dress exposed well-shaped calves. Her figure had changed since carrying Sarah. Matured. Gotten curvier, more feminine. In places he shouldn't have noticed. Her brothers would beat the snot out of him for it if they knew, but hell, he'd have to be dead not to.

  The way she filled out an apron…

  She wore stockings, but no shoes. A pair of battered pink slippers covered her feet.

  "Where you off to?" he asked as she set a china plate in front of him. White icing dripped off the edges of the pastry, and his stomach gurgled as the aroma drifted upward.

  "Church. Sunday school starts at nine-thirty. I thought you'd end up sleeping clear past breakfast. Breakfast hours are posted in the rooms."

  "I saw them. No need to fuss about me, I can take care of myself." He cut off a piece of the bun and lifted it to his mouth. Damn. He hadn't tasted something that good, that sweet, since … well, her drown-your-sorrows sundaes that night at her parents' house came to mind.

  "Sarah?" Lexie called up the stairs. "Hurry up, honey."

  David's head jerked up from the plate. "You're taking Sarah to church? What church?"

  "The Methodist church a couple blocks away."

  He set the fork on the table. Time to make some things clear to her. "No."

  "No, what?"

  "No, you're not taking her. I was raised Catholic, and if that was good enough for me, it's good enough for my daughter."

  "It's part of her routine. What she's used to."

  "Well, I guess she's going to have to get used to a new routine, isn't she?"

  Her face flushed. "Don't you think you're rushing things? She wouldn't even look at you yesterday."

  "No, I don't. Get it through your head that she is my child. You've taken care of her for four years, but she's my responsibility now. I'll make the decisions regarding her." The church issue in and of itself mattered little to him. The control issue, however…

  The door creaked, then popped open, and Sarah came through it. Wearing a black dress with sunflowers on it, she carried a pair of black shoes in her hand. "I can't do them," she said to Lexie.

  "Hey there, sport," he said.

  She glanced in his direction, then quickly ran behind the island.

  "Baby, I'm not feeling so well this morning." Lexie removed the apron and tossed it on the counter. "I think we're going to have to miss church this week."

  "But Momma, I need to see the puppets!"

  "I'm sorry, baby. Not today." Lexie knelt down, disappearing from his view. "You did a great job of getting yourself dressed. But now, why don't you go put on some regular clothes, okay? Then you don't have to worry about the shoes, either."

  "You gonna change, too?"

  David figured that as long as Sarah couldn't see him, she didn't have to acknowledge him. Well, he wasn't going to put up with that. He rose from the table, scooped up the bag he'd set on the floor.

  "Sarah? I have something for you. A present. I meant to give it to you yesterday, but I guess I forgot." He held out the pink and purple bag.

  She turned in his direction, but stepped away from him, closer to Lexie.

  "The lady at the store said most little girls love these. I have to admit, I don't know much about little girls." He let the tissue paper rustle enticingly. "But—" he got down on one knee again "—I really want to learn. Here, sport. Take it."

  Lexie's chest ached at the hopeful expression on his face. He wanted so much to connect with his child. Despite her own misgivings, she nudged Sarah. "Go ahead, baby. Isn't it nice that David brought you a present?"

  She could see how torn Sarah was. Presents were rare things in her life. The B&B provided for all their needs, yes, but extras were few and far between.

  Sarah darted forward, grabbed the bag from his fingers and retreated back to Lexie's side. She set the bag on the floor and shoved both hands into it, pulling out the gift. Her brown eyes widened, and her mouth opened in silent awe. Finally, she said, "Look, Momma," and turned the box in Lexie's direction. A bridal Barbie, complete with satin wedding gown, veil and a tiny white-and-pink bouquet, stared back. "She's pretty!"

  "Yes, she is, baby." Lexie swallowed the bitter taste in her mouth. The doll had been on Sarah's wish list for her birthday, one of the "think small" items that ran between fifty and a hundred dollars. Lexie had been squirreling money away, a smidge here and there, wondering if she'd manage to have enough by the time the little girl's birthday rolled around. Sometimes a hundred bucks might as well have been a thousand for her, when Sarah needed other things like new shoes and clothes, winter boots, a coat…

  Now it didn't matter.

  For two reasons.

  One, her father had already provided it for her. And two, Sarah would be gone long before her birthday came.

  She ignored the stab of pain so intense it made it hard to breathe. She prodded the little girl with her elbow. "What do you say?"

  Sarah turned slowly to face David. "Woof, woof."

  "Sarah," Lexie admonished.

  "That's how dogs say thank you," she whispered.

  A broad grin stretched David's mouth. Enormous, deep dimples—heck, they were craters—appeared around his lips and his eyes brightened. He was absolutely adorable when he smiled like that. Irresistible. She'd seen the same expression when he'd realized she was serious about carrying his child, and at the ultrasound appointment, when the doctor had pointed out Sarah's beating heart, arms and legs. She'd been sucking her thumb. His joy was so amazing.

  His joy…

  In finding his daughter.

  Her pain…

  In losing her.

  "I'm gonna put her away," Sarah said. She darted around David, giving him wide berth, and ran up the stairs.

  Lexie climbed to her feet, as did David.

  "Thank you for not making a big issue over the church thing," he said.

  "Get over it. I did it for her, not you. I'm trying to help her get used to you. Just like you asked."

  "Still." He reached out and took her hand. "Thanks."

  Her fingers trembled. "Don't mention it." She disengaged their clasped hands, unnerved by the tenderness he displayed. She had to remember he was taking away the child she loved, breaking her heart into pieces.

  "I have to go change," she murmured. "Help yourself to more coffee and cinnamon rolls.

  "Nooo!"

  Clattering footsteps on the stairs outside his bedroom followed the drawn-out wail, jolting David awake the next morning.

  Across the hall, a door slammed. Another set of footsteps climbed the steps, this set firmer, slower. Determined.

  He pried one eye open. Bright sunlight assaulted him. He glared at the bedside clock: 10:35.

  How was he supposed to sleep in with that kind of racket going on? He'd spent too many hours during the night debugging glitches in a software project, then e-mailing the new file out to the office. He hadn't gone to bed until just about sunup. Beneath the brocade quilt, he rolled onto his back, draped his arm across his face to block out the light.

  "Sarah, I know you don't want to go, but we have to." Lexie's voice drifted from the hallway, along with scuffling sounds.

  "Nooo! I don't wanna go, Momma!" Sarah's voice was louder, closer now.

  "I'm sorry, Sarah, we have to go. Shush now, or you'll wake up … your father."

  Only one set of footsteps, this time heavier, went down the stairs. She had to be carrying his daughter.

  Her words finally clicked in his fried brain.

  Go? Go where? Holy crap. Was she about to bolt on him?

  A blast of adrenaline surged through his body.

  He threw back the covers and sat up, scanning the room. His jeans were in a crumpled heap on the floor alongside the four-poster bed. He yanked them over his boxer briefs as more squeals of protest, fainter this time, filtered upstairs.

  Then he heard the heavy front door close.

  He barreled out of his room. "Oh no you d
on't." Starting down the stairs, he skidded to a stop on the landing, narrowly missing knocking the old man ass over teakettle.

  "Easy there, boy. These stairs can be slick. Take it from someone who knows." A gnarled hand grasped the banister, and the man drew himself up another step.

  David tried to dodge around him. "Did she put you up to stalling me?"

  "Who? Lexie? She don't know I come up here, and I sure hope you don't tell her. I gotta hide my pipe from her someplace she don't think to look."

  "I'm in a hurry, Pops. Excuse me." He squeezed past the old guy, then bounded down the rest of the stairs. "Your secret's safe with me!" He raced to the front door and yanked it open, ignoring the cool breeze that triggered goose bumps across his chest and down his arms.

  He hurtled onto the wide porch and off the steps. The pair had already crossed the road in front of the house and were entering a building on the opposite side. The rough surface of the sidewalk bit into his bare feet. The gate in the white picket fence swung behind him as he passed through it, squeaking, but not shutting. "Lexie!" he yelled. She didn't seem to hear him as the glass door closed behind her. At least she wasn't leaving town, as he'd first feared. Shivering against the cold again, he turned and ran back into the house and up the stairs. He grabbed a T-shirt from his suitcase and crammed his sockless feet into his still-tied sneakers, then charged back down the stairs, pulling the shirt over his head on the way.

  He crossed the street at a jog and stormed into the building, noting the gold lettering on the glass door: Mill Creek Medical Clinic. Was his daughter ill?

  Lexie stood at the reception desk, Sarah propped on her hip, when he finally caught up to her. Breathing slightly hard, he wrinkled his nose at the scent of new carpet that overpowered any medical smells in the building.

  Sarah squirmed. "Lemme go."

  Lexie set the child on the reception desk. "Sit still so you don't fall." She kept one hand on the child's leg as she filled out a form with the other.

  "What in the hell are you doing?" he demanded. "Is Sarah sick? Don't you think that's something I ought to know as her father?"