“Does your brother live around here?”
“He’s in the military, stationed in Germany, so I don’t see him often.”
“You must miss your grandmother.”
She didn’t say anything.
Garrett cored another apple. “We have something in common. I lost my parents to an airline accident when I was nine.”
Lanie turned finally and met his eyes. “I’m sorry. Ben told me about it.”
And despite all her obvious wariness, he could see a shimmer of compassion in her eyes.
It would be easy to sink into those deep blue pools of sympathy. He hardened himself against the urge to fall—and fall hard.
“It’s not going to be easy, raising a baby on your own,” he said, deliberately bringing the conversation around to the whole point of his being in Deer Creek and standing in her kitchen.
Her eyes shuttered immediately. She turned back to the pan, stirring the eggs.
“I’ll manage,” she said coolly.
She didn’t want to talk about the baby, that was dear. Garrett narrowed his eyes, watching her. The sleeveless dress she wore bared her shoulders, the skin pale and soft looking. Her long hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, but pale, wavy tendrils had broken loose to feather her cheeks.
“Is the baby a boy or a girl?” he asked. “You haven’t said.”
“I don’t know,” she answered. “I didn’t want them to tell me.”
“What are you hoping for?” he probed.
She pivoted. “Do you really care what I’m hoping for?” she demanded suddenly. “Do you really care what I thing or feel—about anything?” After giving him about two seconds to respond, she continued, “I didn’t think so.” She reached into a cabinet and took down a bowl. “Would you mind setting the fruit out on the sideboard?”
“Hey, wait a minute. I never said I didn’t care.” What was he saying?
“So you do care? You care about the feelings of a gold-digging con artist?” Her eyes flashed. The light skin of her cheeks suffused with color. “Isn’t that how you think of me?”
A beat passed. “I don’t know,” Garrett admitted, unaccustomed confusion swirling inside him. “If you’d have the testing done—”
“Ah, the testing. I knew we’d come back to that Let’s cut the chitchat and go straight there.” She turned the heat off on the stove, moved the pan of cooked eggs back to a cool burner and crossed her arms.
“Is it so unreasonable for Walter to expect proof that this baby is his heir?”
“Is it so impossible for you to accept that I don’t care?” she returned simply.
He looked into her eyes and saw nothing but sincerity there. Uncertainty filled him. He wanted to believe her, wished desperately he could trust the artlessness of those blue depths.
But it wasn’t that easy.
Lanie turned away then, her shoulders stiffer than ever. He watched her scrape the eggs into a polished silver warming tray. He wanted to say something, anything, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t even sure what it was that he wanted to say.
She took the cinnamon rolls out of the oven, and he helped her carry everything into the dining room and set up. Silence swelled between them as they worked.
The Berringers arrived downstairs. After giving a cheerful greeting, Lanie retreated to the kitchen. Garrett didn’t feel particularly welcome to follow her, so he poured himself a cup of coffee and tried one of her fresh, hot cinnamon rolls. It was delicious. He watched Mrs. Berringer inhale three rolls along with a mountain of eggs, while he listened to Mr. Derringer detail the couple’s itinerary for the day.
When the Berringers finished eating and went upstairs to collect their things, Garrett carried an armload of dishes into the kitchen. Lanie was sponging off the counter. She turned on the faucet over the sink and started washing dishes when he set the plates and cups on the counter.
“Thank you for helping with breakfast.” She didn’t look up.
“Aren’t you going to eat?” he asked.
“I’m not hungry.”
He stood there for another minute, watching her wash dishes.
“All right.” He reached in the back pocket of his shorts, took out his wallet and withdrew his business card. He set it on the counter near Lanie. “Here’s the number to my office in Austin.”
“I won’t need it.”
“I’d like to know when the baby’s born,” he said. He couldn’t force her to go back to Austin with him. He’d decided it was time to pick his battles. The testing was more important than getting her to Austin. “We’ll talk then.”
Upstairs in his room, he got his things together. He was stepping back into the hall when Mrs. Berringer’s huge form appeared at the top of the stairwell. She was huffing and flushed.
“Mr. Blakemore!” She paused, her ample chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. “Come quickly. You’ve got to get your wife to the hospital right this minute!”
Chapter Five
Garrett pushed past Mrs. Berringer and barreled down the stairs. Lanie was sitting on the couch in the parlor. Mr. Berringer perched beside her, patting her hand. The couple’s suitcases were by the door.
“Are you all right?” Garrett demanded, his pulse racing.
“I’m fine,” Lanie said. “I just had another contraction, that’s all.”
She looked guilty, and he suspected she hadn’t been honest with him earlier about thinking she was in false labor.
Horror streaked through him. What if he and the Derringers had left and she’d been somehow unable to get to the hospital by herself? What would have happened to her and the baby?
He felt completely shaken by the thought.
“That wasn’t just any contraction,” Mrs. Berringer announced, lumbering up behind him. “It lasted a full minute. That baby’s on the way.”
Mr. Berringer helped Lanie rise.
“Where’s your hospital bag, honey?” Mrs. Berringer asked.
Lanie told her, and by the time Garrett brought it back down to the parlor, the Berringers were stowing their own suitcases in their car, and Lanie was waiting for him by the door.
The spring morning shone crisp and bright.
Mrs. Berringer came back to Lanie. “Everything is going to be all right, honey,” she said. “After the baby is born, you won’t even remember the pain, I promise. It’ll be all joy.”
“Thank you,” Lanie said. “I hope you’re right!” As soon as the Berringers left, she turned to Garrett. “You don’t really have to drive me to the hospital. There’s no need for you to change your plans. I can manage just fine on my own.”
Garrett expelled an exasperated breath. Why did he always feel like he was knocking his head against a brick wall with her? He picked up her bag from where she’d set it by the door.
“I’m not leaving you to manage on your own,” he said grimly. “I’m driving you to the hospital. Now if you really want to do something, you can tell me what you were thinking when you lied to me this morning about being in labor.”
He stalked off with her bag, leaving Lanie no choice but to follow, unless she wanted to physically wrest her bag from him, and under the circumstances she didn’t quite feel up to that.
She tagged after him, anger bubbling up, adding to the already churning mix of anxiety and panic inside her. “I didn’t lie to you,” she argued. “I just didn’t tell you the whole truth.”
“Oh, that’s different.” He held open the passenger door.
She sat. He slammed the door and walked around to his side. The car revved loudly to life, and they sped off down the street. The luxury vehicle with its perfect shocks took the road like velvet, and it was incredibly quiet inside, nothing but the purr of expensive machinery.
“It wasn’t any of your business,” Lanie answered him after a minute.
“What were you planning to do?” he demanded harshly, turning onto the main street through the town square. He cast her a brief, harsh glance. “Why didn’t
you tell me you might be in real labor?”
“I was going to drive myself to the hospital. Barring that, I could have called 911.”
“And what were you doing cooking breakfast while you were in labor, anyway?” he asked, cutting her another hard glance.
“My pregnancy book says to carry on with your usual activities during early labor, that it’s the best way to keep your mind off things. It’s—oh, never mind. Why am I explaining this to you?” She stared determinedly out the window.
“Why were you trying so hard to get rid of me before you had the baby?”
“Why wouldn’t I want to get rid of you?” she asked rhetorically. “You’re overbearing and insulting.” Scenery whipped by. “I don’t need your help, and I don’t want your help.”
“Are you hiding something?”
“Of course, that’s it. My secret lover, the true father of the baby, is going to meet me at the hospital. You’ve caught me,” she deadpanned, turning to glare at him. “Now my plan to bilk Walter will never work.”
Garrett slammed on the brakes and pulled to a stop at the side of the road.
Lanie gripped the door handle with one hand for support from the near neck-snapping stop. “What? What’s the matter?”
“I have absolutely no idea where the hospital is. Am I going in the right direction?” Garrett combed his fingers roughly through his thick, dark hair, his expression frazzled.
Lanie realized both of them had been so busy arguing, they’d lost sight of what they were doing. She’d even forgotten the unending pain in her back for a few minutes, which was the only good thing about their otherwise horrible conversation.
The sensation smashed back into her, along with a wash of emotion. She wasn’t up to this skirmish. She was about to have her baby, and this wasn’t the atmosphere into which she wanted her child to be born. Also, she couldn’t afford to use up all her energy this way. She needed her strength for what lay ahead, the birth.
“This is exactly why I was trying to get rid of you,” she said, her voice taut. “This is supposed to be one of the best days of my life. Probably the best day of my life. I’m alone. My best friend—my labor coach—is out of town. I have no parents, no husband. Just my husband’s family, who all think I’m—I’m—” She reached for the worst thing she could think of in her mixed-up, emotional state, “—the Wicked Witch of the West.” She was absolutely not going to cry.
A tear welled up, slipped out. She closed her eyes, turned her head away from him.
The car was so still and silent. She fought the urge to break into weak sobs.
A soft touch brushed her chin. His warm fingers drew her around to face him, sliding gently up her cheek to rub the fat tear away. She opened her eyes and found his intense dark gaze on hers.
“I don’t drink you’re the Wicked Witch of the West,” he said, his voice hushed but clearly audible to her in the confines of the car. “If you were, you couldn’t cry. It would make you melt.”
And she stared at him for a really long moment before another tear fell at the same time that she laughed.
“That was so dumb,” she said shakily. “I can’t believe you said that.” And she couldn’t. It had been too silly. It wasn’t something she would have imagined Garrett Blakemore saying.
“It made you laugh, didn’t it?” he said, dropping his hand from her cheek. “Look, I’m—I’m sorry.” The words seemed to come from him with difficulty. “You just scared the daylights out of me, that’s all.”
Lanie’s breath caught. She studied his face, conflicted by what she saw. Underneath his brusque exterior lurked a soft heart, she was absolutely positive of it now. He was domineering and cold when he wanted to be, but that wasn’t all there was to him. He had this amazingly sweet, funny, caring side. The knowledge was unsettling.
“Could we call a truce?” he asked. “At least long enough for me to get you to the hospital?”
Lanie swallowed thickly. “Okay.”
She gave him directions to the hospital, and Garrett put the car back into gear and hit the road. Nothing was more than a five-minute drive in Deer Creek, and once they were headed the right way they arrived at their destination in no time.
Another contraction rolled over her as they parked. She felt limp when it was over, and ridiculously grateful for Garrett’s strong arm to lean on when she was finally ready to walk inside the building.
It was easy, way too easy, to lean on Garrett when he wasn’t being arrogant and bossy.
An elderly woman in a pink jacket greeted Lanie by name as they walked in the front door of Deer Creek Community Medical Center. It was a small but up-to-date facility, and Lanie knew many of the retiree volunteers as friends of her grandmother’s.
Mrs. Poston was plump, with tight white curls. Her friendly smile was a cheering sight. She noted the small overnight case Garrett had insisted on carrying inside for Lanie.
“Are you here to have your baby, dear?” she questioned eagerly.
“I think so,” Lanie told her, a glow of warmth shooting through her as she and Garrett walked to the bank of elevators across the lobby. It hit her, really hard, that this was the day she would finally hold her baby. And it was difficult to maintain bad feelings toward anyone—even Garrett Blakemore.
The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. She pushed the button for the second floor and watched Garrett from the corner of her eye.
She had no idea what had shaped him into the man he was today, but she suspected it couldn’t have been easy for a grieving boy to have been placed under the austere guardianship of a man like Walter Blakemore. Garrett couldn’t have been shown much love and warmth. She knew Ben hadn’t felt loved, and Ben had been Walter Blakemore’s own son.
She knew Garrett had been through a divorce, too. Had his marriage contributed to his shell of hardness and distrust?
“Thanks for bringing me to the hospital,” she said softly as the elevator opened onto the maternity wing. “So you’ll be going back to Austin now.”
He shook his head. “I’ll hang around.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to automatically argue with this statement, but she didn’t. Something held her back.
“I’d better get checked in,” she said.
She was preregistered, so the sign-in process was efficient, and in minutes she was escorted to a private birthing room.
Garrett stood there for several minutes, not sure what to do, where to go. He had no intention of leaving the building. If she was having Ben’s baby, then he had an obligation to his family to be on hand for the child’s birth.
At least, that was the only coherent reason he had for hanging around.
He wandered around and wound up standing in front of a glass window into the hospital nursery. Two babies slept, swaddled in soft-looking receiving blankets. Another infant squawked in protest as a nurse bathed him. An unbelievable blossom of tenderness expanded automatically inside Garrett’s chest. Tenderness—and awe. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen a newborn child. He couldn’t imagine holding one. They looked so utterly fragile and precious.
He stared at them for a long time. He’d sworn off marriage, and that meant there would be no babies in his future. He’d been fine, just fine, with that decision. But when he turned away from the nursery window, he was unsettled.
The waiting room was empty. There was a rack stuffed with magazines, and a television against the far wall. He walked to the large window. The medical center was on the edge of town, and this angle yielded a pleasant vista of the rolling, wooded hills for which the area got its name.
He stood there for a long time, staring out at the peaceful rural landscape. He thought about turning on the television, or reading a magazine, but he felt too restless. After a while he checked at the nurses’ station.
“Mrs. Blakemore hasn’t delivered yet” was all he could get out of them.
He started pacing.
“Mrs. Blakemore? How are you doing?”
“Bored,” Lanie managed around the thermometer the nurse stuck in her mouth. The thermometer beeped and the nurse removed it. “What do you think? Soon?” she asked hopefully.
“Hmm.” The nurse consulted the paper readout from the machine that monitored Lanie’s contrations. It was hooked up to Lanie by a belt across her stomach. “That’s hard to say. Looks like your contractions are starting to speed up, though. Might not be too long.”
Lanie grinned happily. “Good.” Since she’d had a regional nerve block—an epidural—she’d been relieved of the agonizing pain.
“So tell me. Who’s the gorgeous man out there asking about you every five minutes?” the nurse asked as she checked Lanie’s blood pressure.
“Does be really ask about me every five minutes?” Lanie asked, feeling a silly little urge to smile that made no sense at all. She should be wishing Garrett Blakemore would get in his car and drive back to Austin. Why was she flattered to hear he was worrying outside her door?
Because he was really a sweet guy under all that gruffness. Or was she kidding herself?
How would she ever know unless she gave him another chance?
The nurse laughed. “Well, not quite every five minutes. But almost. Would you like him to come in to keep you company for a little while? He sure keeps looking over here as if he’d like to.”
Lanie wondered if she’d lost her mind. She’d gone soft, that was for sure, because she heard herself saying, “Yes, please ask him to come in.”
It was a day for new beginnings, and it might be the stupidest thing she’d ever done, but she was going to give Garrett one more chance.
Chapter Six
Garrett knocked on the door to Lanie’s room. “Hello?” he called softly. He pushed the door open, poked his head inside the room. “The nurse said it was okay for me to come in.”
Lanie nodded. “Uh-huh. Come in.” She was propped up in the bed, wearing a thin blue hospital gown that was hiked up to accommodate some sort of contraption wrapped over her middle. It was connected to a machine on the floor beside her. A sheet covered her lower body.
The Billionaire and the Bassinet Page 5