SOMEBODY'S BABY

by Marilyn Pappano

  Underneath all the covers she wore sweatpants, a sweatshirt, a sweater and several pairs of socks, and nevertheless she was cold. But even if the room temperature had been in the seventies, she would still have been cold. The worst of the chill was coming from inside, from the emptiness Daniel's betrayal had created.

  How could she have been so foolish, so naive? Daniel must have realized from the beginning what a sucker she was. All he'd had to do was take advantage of what she had so stupidly offered. If not for Beth's suspicious nature, his plan would have worked, too. Sarah would have married him, would have loved him, would have been so idiotically thankful to him, for the rest of her life. She would have lived the next ten or twenty or fifty years—however long he'd wanted her—believing in him, believing in his nonexistent love.

  Her eyes were dry now. She was finally all cried out. There would be no more tears for Tony and Katie. No more tears for Daniel. She was going to start believing in reality, not dreams. In facts, not happy endings. In a few more days her arrangement with Daniel would end, and she would take Katie. And when he filed his lawsuit, she would defend herself. She would protect her daughter.

  Maybe they would run away, she mused. They would go someplace warm—Florida, maybe, or California, or Mexico. They would change their names and get lost someplace where Daniel would never find them. And when Katie asked about her father…

  Sarah's sigh was broken. They wouldn't run away. She would find a job nearby, and she would allow Daniel to see Katie as often as he wanted, no matter how badly it hurt her.

  And when Katie asked about her father, Sarah would tell her that he was a wonderful man who loved his daughter very, very much. If only he could have loved her, too…

  October 31

  Beth Gibson was appalled by Sarah's appearance when she walked into the empty farmhouse Wednesday afternoon. She looked around the living room, saw the couch with all its covers that served as a bed, then wrapped her arms around Sarah's slim shoulders and hugged her. "I would have come sooner, but I had to be in court yesterday. You look awful. When's the last time you had anything to eat?"

  "And good afternoon to you, too," Sarah said with a sniffle. Stepping back, she dragged her hand through hair that hadn't been combed in three days, then tugged at the sweatshirt that she'd worn for the past three days, too.

  Beth walked over to the bed, lifting the heavy pad of blankets. One elegantly shaped eyebrow rising questioningly, she glanced at Sarah. "You sleep here?"

  She rubbed her arms for warmth. "Yeah. The house came unfurnished except for that."

  Taking note of Sarah's layers of clothes, Beth became aware of the chill in the room. "Did it also come unheated?"

  "Well, there's the fireplace. I have plenty of wood, but it rained last week, and…" Sarah gestured to the barely singed log on the fireplace grate. "It's too wet to burn."

  "And I thought the motel in town was bad. Sweetheart, what are you doing here?" Beth asked, the patience in her voice sorely strained.

  Sarah drew the back of her hand across her nose, then shrugged. "I don't have anyplace else to go."

  "If it's money—"

  "You were right," Sarah interrupted before the other woman could offer her a loan. "About Daniel. And the private detective."

  "I know." Beth took no pleasure in admitting it. "I talked to some of your old neighbors and some of the staff at the hospital. They were all questioned by a detective name Mintz, an ex-cop. He did a very thorough job." Huddling deeper in her fur jacket, she sat down on the couch and waited for Sarah to join her at the opposite end. "So Daniel admitted it."

  Sarah nodded.

  "I assume you called off the wedding, or you wouldn't be looking like this."

  "What else could I do? He's told so many lies that I can't trust him anymore."

  Beth tilted her head to one side, leaning on one perfectly manicured hand. "Did you ever consider, Sarah, that maybe he just got trapped by the circumstances?"

  Huddled in the corner of the couch, Sarah watched her suspiciously. She knew she could count on Beth the friend for total support, but Beth the lawyer couldn't help but look at situations from every side. She always wanted to know not only what people did, but why they did it. Whatever her personal feelings for Daniel, she had the emotional distance to step back and study the reasons for everything he'd done. Well, Sarah didn't have that emotional distance, but she would listen, simply because it was easier to listen than to stop Beth's analysis.

  "When he first decided not to give Katie back, he didn't know you. What information he had was all two years old. He had no idea what kind of woman you were, what kind of mother you would be. So he decided to protect Katie and himself by suing for permanent custody. To do that, he had to find out everything he could about your past. And while the detective was doing that, Daniel was finding out about your present from you. And falling in love."

  Sarah started to protest, but Beth stopped her with an upraised hand.

  "If it hadn't been for Tony, you never would have known about this background check. He would have married you, and you would have lived a long, happy life, never suspecting what he had planned. But he found out something that upset him so badly that he couldn't hide it from you. He had to discuss it with you. And that was the catalyst that destroyed everything. So you see, he's as much a victim as you are. A victim of circumstances."

  Sarah stared at her for a long time, then shook her head. "You know, I always wanted to watch you argue a real trial, not a divorce, but something like that rape case you handled last year. You're good. You're very good. If I weren't feeling the pain myself, I'd probably even believe you."

  After a moment, Beth jumped to her feet. "You're right. The guy is a heartless son of a bitch, and he's not worth a second thought. Come on, start packing your stuff. There are two beds in my motel room, so you might as well use one of them." She began tugging the blankets out from beneath Sarah, giving each one a thorough shake before haphazardly folding it and laying it on the arm of the couch. "We're meeting with Ryan at one o'clock tomorrow in Adams's office. We'll take Katie and tell the bastard that if he wants to see her, he can damn well pay for the privilege. Then we'll get the hell out of this dreary little town."

  "I don't want him to pay," Sarah protested. "He can see her whenever he wants. He's her father, and he loves her."

  Beth looked annoyed with her. "How do you know he loves her? You said yourself that he's a lying, untrustworthy bastard. Quit taking his side, Sarah. He's not your lover, he's not your fiancé—he's your enemy. He's the man who used you, who slept with you, who let you believe he loved you so he could take your daughter away from you. Quit acting like you still love him."

  Sarah's response to Beth's callous speech was anger, hurt, denial. She wanted to defend Daniel, to tell Beth that she was wrong, to cry out that she did still love him and always would. But she knew that was precisely what her friend wanted: to trap her into admitting that Daniel was a good man, that she was hurt and disillusioned but still very much in love with him. Then, once she'd done so, Beth would start working on her subtly, slyly, about the advantages of forgiveness. She would use Sarah's own unhappiness in Daniel's favor, and by the time she finished, Sarah would be apologizing to Daniel for ever questioning his honor. Beth could do that with witnesses and juries—that was what made her such a good lawyer—but she wasn't going to get away with it with her.

  Sarah stood up, wrapping her hurt feelings around her like a cloak, and started across the room. "I'll get the rest of my things."

  In the bathroom she changed into jeans and a clean sweater, then packed everything she owned in less than ten minutes. Beth helped her load the boxes into the trunk of the small car, then waited at her own car while Sarah locked the door for the last time.

  She crossed the new boards that Daniel had placed in the porch nearly a month ago, then stared for a moment up the mountain. She couldn't see his house from here, not even a hint of it, but she knew it was there.
Knew he was there.

  "Do you know where the motel is, in case we get separated in the big city of Sweetwater?" Beth asked cynically.

  Sarah nodded as she walked to her car.

  "Then let's get out of this place."

  Daniel walked through the woods, carrying Katie where the path was steep, letting her walk when the ground was level. It took them a long time to cover the mile that separated their house from the Peters place—too long, but not long enough. He didn't know what he was going to say when they got there. Sarah had been right about one thing Sunday; words were difficult for him. That was why he'd held her when they had argued, why he had touched her and kissed her and made love to her—to tell her the things he couldn't find the words for. But she wouldn't welcome his touch now, and he didn't communicate so well without it.

  He had stayed away Monday and Tuesday, in spite of the need to see her that had eaten away at him. She didn't want him anymore, didn't love him anymore, and she had a right to be left alone. But today Katie's frequent questions, her constant trips to the window to see if her mother was coming back yet, had overridden his resolve to leave her alone. Today his need had won. She would probably throw him out, but at least he could see her. And at least Katie could spend some time with her.

  When they reached the field that surrounded the farmhouse, Daniel picked up Katie and quickened his pace. When they rounded the front of the house and he saw that the car was gone, he stopped short. Maybe she had gone into town to get some groceries, call her lawyer, do her laundry. There were a dozen reasons why she might have gone out for a while.

  But when he climbed the steps and looked through the window, he saw that the house was empty. The blankets were gone, along with the boxes that had lined one wall.

  Sarah was gone.

  Katie patted his face until he looked down at her. "Mama?" she asked.

  There was such hope in her eyes that his heart ached. "No, honey, Mama's not here," he whispered in a thick voice. Sarah was gone, and he was afraid she would never come back, not to him.

  November 1

  At precisely one o'clock on Thursday afternoon, Sarah and Beth were shown into Zachary's office by Alicia, who was on her way out. Zachary rose from his desk and greeted them both warmly. It hurt Sarah that she wasn't able to return the greeting. She wasn't even able to meet his eyes.

  Beth sat down in one of the two chairs, crossed her legs, looked the other lawyer directly in the eye and said, "In case your client hasn't already informed you, Mr. Adams, the wedding is off. We're here to accept custody of Katherine Lawson. If Daniel Ryan still wants to file a lawsuit challenging that, go right ahead, but be assured, I'll fight you—and I'm damn good at fighting."

  Zachary came around the desk and crouched in front of Sarah's chair. "Sarah, what happened?" he asked, his voice colored with concern. He touched her left hand, noticing as he did so that the pearl ring was gone.

  "What happened," Beth said coldly, "is that she found out how your client has deceived her. He betrayed her trust. And with his plans for a custody suit he betrayed the spirit of the agreement he signed with her."

  Sarah reached across to touch her lawyer's arm. "Hey, we're not enemies here, okay?" Then she looked at Zachary. "I found out about Daniel's plans, about the private detective, about trying to prove that I'm an unfit mother." Her voice quavered on the last part, and she wiped her hand across her eyes.

  Zachary stood up and leaned against his desk. "The private detective was my idea, Sarah," he admitted openly. "Daniel never would have thought of it." After a moment, he asked, "Is he okay?"

  Sarah shrugged. "I already told him that he can see Katie whenever he wants. He's not losing her."

  "But what about you? He's losing you, isn't he?"

  This time her shrug was accompanied by a sigh. "Do you think that makes any difference to him?"

  "Sarah, you know he loves you. You've got eyes—you see how he looks at you. You know how he takes care of you, how he treats you."

  She shook her head. "He lied to me, Zachary. I thought he was a very special, honorable, good man. But I was wrong."

  "No, you weren't," he argued. "And you know that. He is honorable and good and—"

  "Let it drop, Zach."

  Three heads swiveled to see the man standing in the doorway. Cuddled in his arms was Katie. When she began struggling, he let her down, and she trotted across the room to Sarah, climbing into her lap and giving her a kiss. "Go home, Mama," she said imperiously, sliding to the floor once again. "Come on, Daddy."

  "No, honey," Sarah whispered as Katie tugged her hand. The girl gave up after a moment and wandered off to explore Zachary's office. Sarah felt Daniel's eyes on her, but she refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge his presence in any way.

  "I wasn't going to bring her," he said, the words directed solely to Sarah. "I thought that maybe if I didn't, you would come back. But I figured your lawyer would send the sheriff out instead."

  Beth acknowledged the correctness of his assumption with an arched brow. Sarah had no reaction at all.

  He came a few steps closer, then asked hoarsely, "Can't you even look at me, Sarah?"

  She was afraid of what he might see in her face if she did. Afraid of what she might see in his face. There was such anguish in his voice, such raw need. If she looked at him and saw it, she would forget everything, forgive anything.

  When she kept her face turned away from him, he gave up. "Her things are packed. They're by Alicia's desk," he said, his voice flat and empty. He pulled an envelope from his pocket and offered it first to Sarah, who wouldn't take it, then to Beth, who did. "There's some money there, to find a place to live. I, uh … I'd like to see her—"

  He was going to cry, Daniel thought, closing his eyes tightly. He could feel the burning all the way into his soul. It blocked any more words from clearing the lump in his throat.

  Beth filled the painful silence. "You can see her whenever you'd like. We can draw up an agreement and leave it with Zachary."

  Daniel nodded, then once again moved closer to Sarah. This time he stopped in front of her, crouching there, trapping her in the chair. With the gentlest touch she'd ever felt, he turned her face, forcing her to look at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry I betrayed you. I'm sorry I hurt you. But I'll never be sorry that I love you."

  The tears that she'd promised herself she wouldn't cry came anyway, sliding down her cheeks. She squeezed her eyes shut to slow them, and when she opened them again, he was gone.

  "What do you want, Sarah?" Beth asked, her voice sharp in spite of its softness. "He offered you money, marriage, love. Are you looking for a pound of flesh? I think you got that, too, in the heart you tossed back."

  Katie came back to her mother, reaching out a chubby hand to wipe at her tears. "Go home, Mama," she pleaded, noticing for the first time that her father was gone. "Go to Daddy."

  Sarah lifted Katie into her lap and hugged her close. "He lied to me, Beth," she whispered.

  "So what?" Beth looked and sounded disgusted. "You said you thought he was an honorable man. He's still got honor, Sarah, in spite of what he did." Then she laughed sharply. "What he did. For God's sake, Sarah, what did he do besides fall in love with you?"

  "He lied!"

  "He tried to protect his daughter. Then he tried to protect you by not telling you about the detective. Telling you would only have hurt you because by then, he didn't want to sue you—he wanted to marry you."

  "But how can I trust him now?"

  "What's he going to do, Sarah?" Zachary asked impatiently. "Keep Katie away from you? He's already given her to you."

  "He gave you his daughter," Beth said, touching the girl's hair. "After a gift like that, how can you not trust him?"

  Sarah dried the last tears from her eyes. "Why does it matter to you, Beth? You don't even like him."

  "But you love him, and he loves you, and in this world, that's a pretty rare thing. Don't lose it because he made
a mistake."

  In her lap, Katie made one last plea. "Let's go, Mama. To Daddy."

  "No, honey," she said, brushing the girl's hair back. "You're going to stay with Beth for a while, okay? She'll take you to the park and play." She made the promise knowing that Beth hadn't played with a child since she was one herself.

  Katie looked at the redhead, then clung to Sarah. "No."

  Zachary lifted her from Sarah's lap and swung her around. "You stay with Beth and me, kiddo, and I'll get you some of my mom's chocolate cake, okay?"

  The dark blue eyes lit up, and she giggled. "Cake, umm."

  "Beth, can I use your car?" Sarah had left hers at the motel, and it would take too long to walk back and get it.

  Beth handed over the keys with a dry warning. "Don't leave this child in my care for very long."

  The drive to the top of the mountain had never seemed so long, but at last Sarah was there. She parked next to Daniel's pickup, then climbed the steps to the porch. She raised her hand to knock, but the door was ajar. After a moment's hesitation, she opened it fully and stepped inside.

  The house was quiet. She decided to check upstairs, certain that he would be in his room or Katie's. A moment later she found him in front of the fireplace in his bedroom, staring at the pictures there. "Daniel?"

  He turned quickly, surprised by her presence. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he struggled for control. He quietly asked, "Where is Katie?" He'd said good-bye to his daughter once. He wasn't sure he could do it again.

  "I left her with Zachary and Beth." She came farther into the room, stopping at the opposite end of the fireplace. The picture on the mantel in front of her had been taken on Katie's first birthday. She looked sweet and adorable and loved—so well-loved. "I wanted to talk to you."

  He silently watched her. He wanted to reach out to her, but he couldn't. He wanted to beg her forgiveness, but he couldn't do that, either. How could she forgive the things he'd done? All he could do was wait.