by Susan Meier
“We met in Niagara Falls last year.”
Ah, she thought with satisfaction. A flicker of something passed over his face. Avery swallowed and added, “At Pete and Elizabeth’s wedding.”
His dark eyes settled on her, so intense it made her want to fidget. She clenched her fingers together and made herself remain still.
“You were there?” he asked.
If that was an attempt to make her feel insignificant, it succeeded. Was she so plain that she wasn’t even the least bit noticeable? The slightest bit memorable? Granted, she’d never been as beautiful as her sister and whenever they were together, Avery did tend to fade into the background next to Crystal’s perfect figure and pretty face. But confirmation that he didn’t remember at all...
Ouch.
“I was in the wedding party,” she explained, wishing she could just tell him her reason for showing up and get it over with. But she had to ease into it. Especially since she hadn’t really been afforded so much as a smile or welcome. This was going to be so much harder than she’d imagined, and she’d practiced the words in her head over and over on the flight from Toronto to Edmonton, and from the drive from Edmonton to Cadence Creek. Now those words didn’t seem to fit the situation at all.
“You were?”
Why did he keep questioning everything she said? Annoyance flickered and she struggled to tamp it down. She had to keep a lid on her temper. Calm and rational was the only way to get through this first meeting.
“I was one of Elizabeth’s bridesmaids. You were Pete’s best man.” She tried a smile, hoping to soften him a touch. A slight breeze ruffled her blouse, offering a tiny bit of relief from the blazing heat. There weren’t even any shade trees to offer respite from the sun, just green and brown fields surrounding the rather plain farmhouse, broken only by a large barn and a couple of sheds.
“Yes, I think I can remember that much,” he said, a touch impatiently.
Avery looked over her shoulder, glancing back at the car she’d rented at the airport. So far Nell hadn’t made a peep—but that wouldn’t hold out forever. She was glad now that she’d chosen to leave Nell in the car, considering Shepard’s convenient amnesia about the weekend in question. But time was ticking. The window was rolled all the way down, but it was too hot to leave the baby in the car for more than a few minutes.
She turned back, deciding they were getting nowhere and she might as well step it up. “You probably don’t remember me because you were pretty interested in my sister,” she stated plainly. “Crystal.”
Something lit in his eyes. So he did remember. She wasn’t surprised. It was hard to forget Crystal Spencer once you’d met her. Pain flickered at the thought. Avery’s sister had been the brightest light in her life. Her death had been sudden and shocking, only a few days after giving birth to Nell. Avery had been plunged into darkness, losing her only real family.
But the darkness only lasted for a short time. Nell had become the new light in her life. Her saving grace.
“I remember your sister,” he said, a touch of caution in his voice. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re knocking on my door...what did you say your name was, again?”
“Avery,” she repeated firmly. “My name is Avery.”
“Right. Look, if this is about Crystal, we had an understanding from the start. It was a weekend thing. No expectations.”
Avery noticed he ran his hand through his hair, though, like he wasn’t quite as cool about everything as he’d first appeared. And Avery was quite aware that the terms of the weekend had been set out from the start. Crystal had made that abundantly plain each time Avery tried to convince her to try to find Callum. Each time Crystal had flatly refused to budge. She’d been determined to raise Nell on her own. She didn’t want some here-today-gone-tomorrow soldier as a father to her child. Especially since they barely knew each other.
Avery had never judged Crystal for how she’d conceived Nell. But she had judged her for willingly keeping silent about her pregnancy. Avery still believed that Callum deserved to know, but she wished she could take back the things she’d said to her sister.
“Crystal is dead, Mr. Shepard.”
His hand dropped to his side as silence fell around them. Avery swallowed around the thickness in her throat. Saying the words never got easier.
“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, his voice a low rumble, and his gaze softened. It was the first sign of humanity she’d glimpsed in him.
“I don’t know how else to put this, so I’m just going to say it,” she said, taking a deep breath and thinking a quick, silent prayer for strength. She was going to need it in the hours...in the days...ahead. “Crystal died shortly after delivering a baby. Your baby, Mr. Shepard. She’s sleeping in the car behind me, and she’s just over four months old.”
* * *
Callum heard the words but they seemed to swim around in his head, not fitting together right. Crystal...Niagara Falls...baby.
But they’d been careful...hadn’t they?
There had to be some mistake. He couldn’t be a father. He remembered Avery, all right. He’d been flat-out lying about that part, not wanting to give himself away. At the first glimpse of her he’d flashed back to a memory of the bridesmaids, all lined up in dresses the color of a peacock feather. She’d been there, all right, an understated beauty next to the flashier glamour of her sister. At the time he’d thought her fresh and innocent. Perfect. And intimidating as hell.
But that didn’t mean Avery was telling the whole story. After all, most scams succeeded because they carried a whiff of truth, just enough to be credible. Her presence here rattled him, so he held his cards close to his chest.
“I’m not a father,” he heard himself say. “It’s impossible.”
“I assure you it’s not,” she repeated. “You did have sex with my sister that weekend, didn’t you?” She blinked at him innocently. “You’ll notice I refrain from using the term ‘making love’ as I’m relatively sure love had nothing to do with it. Considering you’d just met and then never contacted her again.”
Her reprimand broke through the haze in his mind and he tightened his fingers around the door. Lord, she was a piece of work. Righteousness all wrapped up in a tidy little package of uptight conservatism—from her tailored white trousers to her buttoned-up blouse with the scarf precisely knotted—just so—around her neck. His gaze dropped to her shoes. Little heels, not too high, of course. Nothing that smacked of outright sex appeal for this woman. Oh, he had her pegged, all right. Or at least the part she was playing.
He certainly didn’t trust her enough yet to know if it was all an act or not. For all he knew, Crystal was fine and dandy. Or maybe this was Avery’s kid and she was out to scam him for child support.
For the first time since opening the door, he felt his lips curve slightly. If she was after bags of money she was barking up the wrong tree. He’d sunk every dime he had into buying this place and the milk quota that went along with it. All he wanted from life now was to be left alone. To live his life on this quiet section of land with the open space and some livestock for company.
“Is something entertaining?” she asked, pursing her lips.
“Not a bit,” he replied. “In fact, I don’t believe a single word out of your mouth. I suggest you turn around and head back to where you came from.”
And if his conscience dug at him a little bit, he would just damn well ignore it.
He s
tepped inside and shut the door in her face.
Only when it was latched did he close his eyes. He pressed his forehead to the door and let out a long, unsteady breath. This was not happening. It was not. Yes, he’d had a fling over a year ago, but it had been a bad time for him. Jane had broken things off and given him back the ring, destroying his hopes for the future. He’d wanted to be anywhere but at a wedding, pretending to celebrate a happy-ever-after he no longer believed in. Crystal had been the perfect diversion. But surely Elizabeth would have mentioned if her maid of honor had ended up pregnant. Women were close like that, weren’t they?
But then he remembered that after the wedding, Elizabeth had moved to Quebec with Pete, hundreds of kilometers away from Crystal Spencer. They’d only been married a few months when Pete—along with Callum and the rest of their section—had been deployed.
Callum had been the only one of them to make it home. That fact still made his guts churn.
Through the wood he heard the slam of her car door. She was going, then. It was just as well. Callum Shepard wasn’t anyone’s father.
The sharp knock vibrated through his forehead and made him stand straight up. Not going. With a sigh he prepared to let her know in no uncertain terms that he wasn’t playing her game. He opened the door and...
And stared, swallowing the words sitting on his tongue.
Avery cradled a tiny bundle in her arms, a still-sleeping bundle, wrapped in a soft yellow knitted blanket with only her head poking out of the folds. Tiny lips were surrounded by plump cheeks; the tiniest button nose dotted the middle of her face and dark hair showing just a hint of curl peeked out from beneath a tiny pink-and-white bonnet.
As much as he hated to admit it, it was hard to keep such a hard stance when the baby was right there in front of him rather than stashed away in a car.
“Miss Spencer,” he began, more affected than he cared to admit, “I know what you’re doing. You’re playing the cute baby card.”
“Is it working?”
Avery’s clear blue eyes actually looked hopeful. Before they’d only held hostility and derision. She’d judged him for indulging in a brief affair with her sister. Why would she feel the need to do that if she were lying about him being the father? She was either telling the truth or she was an extraordinarily good liar.
Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending how one looked at it—he been burned before. Burned badly enough that he didn’t trust himself to know the difference. No matter how much those extraordinary blue eyes implored him to believe her.
“Cute or not, I’m going to need more proof than your say-so,” he answered. Yet he couldn’t pull his gaze away from the fringe of dark hair. Avery was blonde. Crystal had been blonde. The baby had dark brown hair, like his.
Which proved absolutely nothing, he reminded himself.
“Could we at least come in?” she asked softly. “It’s silly to be standing on your doorstep.” She fluttered her hand. “The mosquitoes are out and I don’t want Nell getting bit.”
“Nell?”
Avery nodded. “Short for Janell. It was the name of Crystal’s nurse at the hospital.”
Something strange passed over Avery’s face as she said the words. Callum’s jaw tightened as he recognized the emotion. Pain. Grief. Lord knew he was familiar enough with them both. The longer this conversation went on, the more he was inclined to think she might be telling the truth.
He wondered what had happened to Crystal. He’d barely known her, but he did have enough humanity left in his soul to feel sorry she was gone. And to feel sorry for Avery, who had clearly loved her.
Reluctantly he stood back and pushed the door open. “Come on in, then. Don’t mind the mess.”
She’d soon learn that he came just as he was. And that would have her leaving soon enough.
* * *
Callum Shepard’s house was a disaster. Well, perhaps not a disaster, but it was clear it was a bachelor’s house and that he couldn’t be bothered with housework. Dirty dishes were piled in the sink, a basket piled with dirty clothes was left in the hall and bits of newspapers were scattered over what sparse furniture he had. “Sorry about the mess,” he offered again, but his voice was missing any sort of sincerity. He wasn’t sorry at all, she realized. And more than ever she was certain that she could leave Alberta and go back home to Ontario with a clear conscience after today. Nell certainly did not belong here.
Along with the guilt came an intense wave of relief. Because while she’d felt all along that telling Callum about Nell was the right thing, it certainly wasn’t the easy thing. Growing up without a father had affected Avery profoundly and she didn’t want that for Nell. But telling Callum was risky, too. Crystal had named her guardian but a biological father could challenge that arrangement, couldn’t he?
But Callum Shepard had no interest in being a father. That was as plain as the nose on her face. And Avery wanted to keep Nell with her for always. Setting the guidelines was the second reason she was here in Cadence Creek.
She perched on a corner of the couch, the only space free of papers or random clothing that hadn’t been put away. With Nell tucked in the crook of her arm, she sat her purse on her knee and took out her wallet. “Here,” she said, handing out the plastic-covered card. “This is her birth certificate.”
He took the card from her fingers and looked at it a moment before handing it back. “That doesn’t prove anything.”
“You’re listed as the father.”
“She could have put anyone’s name on there.”
Indignation burned through Avery’s veins and she fought to keep her voice down. “But she didn’t put anyone’s name. She put yours. And you know the dates add up. Crystal wouldn’t lie about something like that.” She shifted a little. Truth was, Crystal had been going to leave it blank. One of the last conversations they’d had was when Avery had finally convinced her to name Callum as the father on record.
He took a seat in a chair across from her and rested his elbows on his knees. “I beg your pardon because this is going to sound harsh, so let’s just get it out of the way, shall we? Yes, I had a weekend fling with your sister. But it wasn’t one-sided. She was just as willing as I was. And as far as her not lying about something like that, what makes you so sure? She certainly kept the existence of her baby a secret. A lie of omission is still a lie, you know. Why not lie on the birth certificate as well?”
Her mouth opened and closed a few times as she struggled to find the right words to respond.
“I know that probably makes you angry,” he continued, “but there it is.”
The baby started to squirm in her arms and Avery shifted Nell’s weight, hoping to keep her quiet a little while longer. She’d done what she’d set out to do. She’d told him. She’d given him a chance. Nothing else was required to keep her conscience clean. “That’s it, then?”
“Was there more you wanted from me? Child support, perhaps?”
The cool tone of his voice eradicated any hope of them dealing with this amicably. He thought she was a lying money grubber even though he hadn’t put it in those exact terms. Her nostrils flared as the words of a crushing set-down trembled on her tongue. There was no point stirring up any more of a hornet’s nest, not when she was close to having what she wanted. She held Nell closer. “There’s nothing I want from you, Mr. Shepard. I just thought you deserved to know you had a daughter. I didn’t agree with Crystal’s stance to not tell you. Now that I have, I’ll b
e on my way.”
On her way. Like it was a short drive around the corner to go home. It hadn’t been easy to find him and in the end someone she knew had broken a few rules as a personal favor to get his contact information. Avery had taken a week off work—unpaid—in order to fly out here because how did you deliver this sort of news by phone or in a letter?
On one hand she’d half hoped that Callum would own up to his responsibilities so they could come to an agreement. In her mind she’d worked up a whole proposal for how she would raise Nell as her own but promise Callum he could be involved in his daughter’s upbringing. It had been quite inspired, actually, covering almost any contingency she could think of. The perfect plan so that Nell would have a loving home with her but would also grow up knowing her father—something Avery and Crystal had never had.
The speech was going to go to waste, but the end result was the same. Nell was going home with her. If Callum wasn’t interested, that was his business. She would do everything to make sure Nell had a full, happy life.
She slid her purse strap over her shoulder and stood, tucking Nell’s blanket closer around her. Nell’s tiny dark eyes were open—at first they’d seemed blue but now Avery was sure they were going to be brown, like Callum’s. Avery blinked against sudden tears and made her way out of the cluttered living room to the front door again.
“Wait.”
Her hand was reaching for the knob when his voice stopped her. She turned around to find him standing in the space between the living room and kitchen, indecision marking his face.
“Why?” he asked quietly. “Why did you disagree with her about telling me?”
“Why do you think?”
He frowned. “If I really were the father, wouldn’t Crystal have wanted to at least ask for financial support?”