The Bachelor's Baby Dilemma (Family Renewal)

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  “In about eight weeks. She discovered that she was pregnant soon after she was incarcerated.”

  “And when will she be released?”

  “Not for at least two years. Besides time served, she has to pay restitution to her victims. She has a long road ahead of her, but she promised that she would get her act together. Not only with her rehabilitation, but with being a good mother to her child when she gets out.”

  “Who’s going to take care of the baby between now and then?”

  “I am.”

  “You?” He looked like the last man on earth who would want a baby. He’d even said it with a horrible tone of dread. “What’s going on, Tanner? Really, seriously, why would you agree to take her child?”

  “Because she begged me to. And because there’s no one else available to do it.”

  “What about the baby’s father or his family?”

  “The dad doesn’t want anything to do with the kid and neither does his family. They’re all a bunch of screwups. If I don’t become its legal guardian, the baby will go into foster care.”

  “Then it sounds like you’re doing the right thing.”

  “I’m trying. But all I keep thinking about is what happened to Ella.”

  Feeling far too emotional, Candy glanced at the lemons that had fallen on the ground and noticed that some of them were starting to brown. Ella had died from SIDS. “That’s the last thing you should be thinking about.”

  “I know. But I can’t help it.”

  She considered reaching out to skim his hand, to comfort him, but she refrained. The last time his life had been falling apart, she’d wrapped him in all kinds of solace, but in the end, it hadn’t stopped him from pulling away. To return to that place, to feel it again, wasn’t something she was willing to do.

  She simply said, “It’ll be okay, Tanner.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Does Meagan know if she’s having a girl or a boy?”

  “It’s a girl.” He resumed walking across the lawn. “I’m going to hire a live-in nanny. Hopefully, having someone there who knows what they’re doing will make me feel better.”

  She walked beside him. “That’s a good idea.”

  “I’d prefer an older lady who’s already raised a brood of her own.”

  “Someone who knows how to be a mom?”

  “Exactly.”

  Candy thought about how excited she’d been about becoming a mom. She also thought about the ever-present ache of losing the life in her womb. Nearly four years had passed, but she still felt the loss, especially since her miscarriage had been directly associated with her divorce.

  But rather than let herself sink too deeply into those old memories, she said, “I’m sure you’ll find the right nanny.” She didn’t doubt he would screen them carefully.

  “But first I need to find a house. The idea is for me to live in the main house with the nanny and the baby. Then later, after Meagan comes home, she and her daughter can live in the guesthouse.”

  By now, they were standing at the white picket fence that surrounded Candy’s guesthouse. “It’s nice of you to consider their future.”

  “I can’t very well leave my sister to flounder by herself. I’m not making excuses for her, but part of the reason she embezzled money was to support her boyfriend. And then he goes off and ditches her, with a babe in her belly.”

  “It’s probably better that he shrugged off his responsibility. She doesn’t need a guy like that around.”

  “If I ever see his lazy ass again, I’m going to pummel the living crap out of him. It’s what big brothers are supposed to do.” With a tight squint, he defended his threat of violence. “He’s got it coming from me.”

  “No doubt he does.” If she were in his position, she would feel the same way. She gave him a second to clear his thoughts, then asked, “Are you ready to see the guesthouse?”

  “Yes, absolutely.”

  She opened the gate, focusing on the sale of her property. “The tenant moved after I put it on the market, so it’s vacant now. But if you decide to rent it out between now and when Meagan comes home, finding a new tenant will be easy. I’ve never had any trouble keeping it occupied.”

  “I probably wouldn’t rent anything out for a while. I’ve got too much else to think about.” He glanced at the landscape. “You’ve done a great job of maintaining all of this.”

  “Thank you.” The courtyard showcased a three-tiered fountain, next to a stretch of grass with plants and flowers. She ushered him inside. “It’s one bedroom and one bath.”

  “I’d need to turn it into a two-bedroom.”

  “There’s plenty of space for an addition. The people I bought it from considered making it bigger. They even looked into getting the permits.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  She held back while he wandered around, letting him get a feel for it.

  Afterward, he said, “It’s really nice. I think Meagan would like it. But I still have to see the main house, so I’ll reserve my judgment until after you show me everything.”

  Candy nodded. She didn’t expect him to decide on the spot.

  Still standing beside the window, he gazed out at the fountain. “It seems so surreal.”

  She knew he meant his situation, not the setting. Caught up in his reflective mood, she asked, “Has Meagan chosen a name for the baby yet?”

  He turned around, the water framed behind him. “Ivy. Ivy Ann Quinn.”

  “That’s pretty. I like the way it sounds.”

  “Ivy Ann is from a book about a princess Meagan read. All little girls should be princesses, right?”

  “Definitely. But they don’t all have to be beauty queens.”

  “You were Miss Teen Los Angeles when we were going out.” He said it softly, as if he were taking a romantic trip down memory lane.

  To combat the gentleness in his voice, she replied, “I was always Miss Something-or-Other.” Her mom had forced her into competitions at a very young age, and if Candy didn’t win, she got pushed even harder. “Big bouncy hair, frozen smiles and glittery ball gowns.” She winced at the image it created in her mind. “What a nightmare.”

  “But you still worked your tail off to make your mom proud.”

  “What can I say? She relished that environment. She also loved bragging about her tiara-topped daughter to her friends.” To emphasize her point she made a crownlike circle with her hands, lifting it ceremoniously onto her head.

  “I was guilty of bragging, too. Telling my buddies how hot my Miss Teen girlfriend was. But I shouldn’t have done that, I suppose. Especially since I knew how much you hated being in those pageants.”

  She lowered her hands. “I hardly ever admitted that to anyone.” But she’d confided in him. She’d trusted him with her secrets back then. “You were good at listening.”

  “And now you’re listening to me talk about my problems.”

  “You just need to settle into the idea of being an uncle.”

  “I certainly never expected it to happen like this, with Meagan being a single mom.” He shrugged. “But marriage doesn’t make much sense to me anyway.”

  It shouldn’t have made sense to her, either. But Candy wanted to get married again someday. She wanted to get it right next time. “Some couples are happy. Dana and Eric are.”

  “Then they’re lucky. Because I don’t think it works for most people. After Ella died, my dad had the nerve to tell my mom that he’d never loved her.”

  Feeling as if she’d gotten the wind knocked out of her, Candy clutched her middle. After she’d miscarried, Vince had said the same thing to her.

  After a bout of silence, he said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be laying my mom’s old troubles on you. What’s done is done, and she�
�s gone now.”

  Yes, his mother was gone, but Candy remained, affected by what he’d said. But before her emotions got the best of her, she lightened her mood, rather than dwell on things that couldn’t be undone.

  She felt especially better when Tanner glanced over and smiled. He just had that way about him.

  “Ready to show me the rest of the place?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course.” Together, they headed for the main house, with Candy returning his smile.

  Chapter Two

  As the tour continued, Tanner tried to fix his attention where it should be, but he was having trouble concentrating on what Candy was saying. Something about the house being built in the 1930s? About it being a renovated bungalow with three bedrooms and two full baths?

  Mostly he was noticing her. She’d always reminded him of an exotic creature, with her long-limbed agility and catlike wariness. She was beautiful, but she could be skittish, too.

  They’d dated for six months. They’d been inseparable but they hadn’t gone to the same high school. She’d attended an all-girls academy, an environment that made her shy around boys.

  As a beauty queen, she’d hidden behind the persona she’d created. But she was different in real life. Even now, he could see fragments of the girl she’d once been: the awkward manner in which she tugged at her clothes, the way she broke eye contact.

  He couldn’t help but be intrigued by her. Her chestnut-colored hair was sleeker than it used to be, worn straight and falling softly to her shoulders. Her clothes were simple: a fitted T-shirt paired with black leggings—or whatever those impossibly tight things were called. Her lean, athletic shape wasn’t hard to miss. And with her being a yoga instructor, he suspected she was beyond flexible. But she’d always been able to get into bendy positions. In the talent competition of the pageants, she used to perform modern dance.

  The girl with the sugary name.

  He used to call her all sorts of silly things: gumdrop, taffy, peanut brittle, gummy bear, lollipop. But his favorite had been cotton candy, especially when she wore pink. Did she still wear that color? Or had she outgrown it? Seventeen years had passed. A lifetime of memories.

  She led him through the back door and into the kitchen, and he suspected that this was her prized room in the house, with its butcher-block island and bright white appliances. An antique cart in the corner was crowded with spices, pots and pans, old salt and pepper shakers, and other culinary knickknacks.

  No doubt she liked to cook. It even smelled like cookies. It appeared as if a candle was creating the fresh-baked aroma, but it still struck him as homey, with the desired effect being the same.

  She definitely seemed domestic. Even at a young age, she’d been marriage-minded. Back when they were together, she’d been determined to save herself for her future husband. She’d thought it was a romantic notion. And now she was divorced.

  He wondered about the type of guy she’d married and what had gone wrong, but he sure as fire wasn’t going to ask her, no matter how curious he was.

  His thoughts continued to be scattered as Candy walked him all over the house, pointing out architectural details and decorative features.

  Once they were in the second guestroom, she said, “This could be Ivy’s nursery. It’s already painted in pastels.” She motioned to the walls. “Lilac trimmed in yellow.”

  He checked out the color theme, and she smiled, quite sweetly, as if she was picturing the baby snuggled up in this room. Seeing her expression gave him comfort, reminding him of how special she was. “Did I ever thank you for being there for me? When everything happened?”

  “You were my friend. My boyfriend. I wanted to help you through it.”

  “I know.” Behind her, the light from a set of etched glass windows was bathing the potential nursery in a warm glow. “But I just wanted to clarify that if I didn’t tell you how much it meant to me then, I’m telling you now.”

  “You don’t need to.” She kept her voice soft. “Really, you don’t. But I appreciate it.”

  “I don’t want to go backward in time. But ever since Meagan asked me to become Ivy’s guardian, I keep sliding into the past.”

  “And now, of all things, you run into me.”

  “It’s strange, isn’t it? Especially since we have a friend in common that we didn’t even know about.”

  “Did you tell Eric that your sister is in prison and that you’ll be taking care of her baby?”

  He shook his head. “That wasn’t something I was inclined to mention while we were getting caught up. I probably should have, though. You can tell him if you want to. You’ll probably talk to him before I will. Or you’ll talk to Dana or whatever.”

  “Does Meagan know that you’ve been thinking about Ella?” she asked.

  “No. I couldn’t say that to her. It wouldn’t be right to burden her with it. And if it’s crossed her mind, she hasn’t said anything to me about it, either. But I think she made peace with what happened to Ella a long time ago. She talks about our sister as if she’s an angel looking down on us. But maybe it’s because Meagan was so young when Ella died that she saw it in a softer way.”

  “Kids are supposed to be more resilient.”

  Tanner shifted his stance, glad that Meagan didn’t share his fears. “We discussed other aspects of me becoming Ivy’s guardian, like how taking care of a baby is going to affect my lifestyle. I warned her that I don’t know anything about being a single dad. Or any kind of dad.”

  “You’re not the father. You’re the uncle.”

  “Not according to tradition. In the old Cheyenne way, being an uncle is the same as being a father, and it’s especially important if the dad is unavailable. In the early days, the word for father and uncle was one and the same. Tshe-hestovestse.”

  She flashed another of her sweet smiles. “That’s nice. I like that.”

  Tanner didn’t. To him, it just intensified his role in his niece’s life. “I bought a bunch of baby books.”

  She moved a little closer. “You did?”

  “Yes, but I haven’t read them yet. Still, I figured it would help to know the stages and what to expect. It wouldn’t be fair to Ivy to leave everything to the nanny. I don’t want my niece to think I’m treating her like a leper. Babies can probably sense that kind of stuff.”

  “I’m sure they can.” She was looking at him as if he’d just bewitched her.

  Teasing her, he replied, “Is this how women are going to react to me now? Am I going to become a major chick magnet because I have a baby?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re acting all dreamy over me, Candy.”

  “I am not.” She got downright indignant, squaring her shoulders and jutting out her pretty little chin. “I’m just standing here.”

  “Making goo-goo eyes at me.”

  “You’re full of baloney.”

  He shrugged, then laughed. “I was just kidding around.” It was his twisted way of cracking a joke, of making light of the chemistry that still existed between them.

  She made a face at him. “You always did have a rotten sense of humor.”

  “At least I haven’t lost that side of myself. With everything that’s going on, I could be crying in my beer.”

  “Are you kidding? You practically are.”

  Touché, he thought. She’d got him there. He rolled his eyes, and they both managed a genuine laugh.

  He returned his attention to the pastel-colored walls, going back to where the conversation first started. “I don’t know anything about decorating a nursery.” He didn’t have a clue about that sort of thing. “When the time comes, I’ll have to get someone to help me pick out the furniture, just to be sure I don’t screw it up.”

  “Maybe you can order a complete set, with everything
already going together.”

  “That should work.”

  “It will, Tanner. It’ll all work out.”

  “Thanks.” He appreciated that she was offering positive affirmations. He needed as many good vibes as he could get. Then he took a second look at her and said, “You seem like you should’ve had kids. With you knowing so much about them.”

  She cleared her throat. “I spend a lot of time with Eric and Dana’s son.”

  That made sense, of course. But she still seemed as if she should’ve had some of her own. He wondered why she hadn’t, but he decided not to push the issue or pry into her personal affairs.

  Next up was the master bedroom, and as soon as Candy led him to the place where she slept each night, being in the proximity of her silk-draped bed hit him square in the chest.

  But why wouldn’t it? Not only had they never been together in that way, he hadn’t even been allowed in her room when they were kids. Her mom had been superstrict about that. But her mom wasn’t part of the equation anymore. Candy and Tanner were adults now.

  When their gazes locked, she began fussing with her clothes, resorting to her nervous habit. Clearly, she was feeling the heat, too.

  He tried to think of something to say that would ease the tension. But nothing came to mind.

  She started a choppy conversation instead, prattling on about the room: the walk-in closet, the built-in window seat, the French door leading to the backyard.

  “It produces a nice breeze,” she hastily said.

  “And a beautiful view,” he replied, trying to glance past her and failing. Candy was the beautiful view he was talking about. He admired the way she looked, surrounded by the feminine trappings of her room. A candle was burning in here, too, like in the kitchen. Only it was something floral, a light, fluttery scent mimicking the flowers she grew in her garden. He didn’t know one bee-kissed posy from another, but he remembered giving her a corsage when he’d taken her to his junior prom. But mostly what he remembered was the sweetly sinful dress she’d worn. Red, like the color of fire.

  “Where do you live?” she asked suddenly.