Protecting Their Baby

by Sheri WhiteFeather

  Did he have no shame? Using his charms on a persnickety old woman?

  Lisa sat next to him in the car and pulled the seat belt across her body. Was she jumping to conclusions? Was she being unfair? She honestly didn’t know. But between her first-trimester hormones and his casual attitude, she was ready to snap.

  “I like your family,” he said, as he started the engine. “They’re good people.”

  “I told you they were.”

  “I know, but I had to find out for myself. Annabelle is a character. She insisted that I was a jerk for bedding you the way I did, then she gave me hell for not asking you to marry me. She wants us to be together.”

  So much for Auntie’s distrust. Apparently he’d won her over. “That’s crazy.”

  “Tell me about it. My mom will probably do that, too, once I tell her about the baby.”

  Lisa didn’t want to sit here and discuss a marriage that was never going to happen.

  He spoke again. “Annabelle thinks the perpetrator could be Kirk. She thinks he’s a phony, always flaunting his brains in front of everyone. I told her I was already investigating him, but that I would delve deeper.”

  “Annabelle doesn’t know diddly about Kirk. She only dislikes him because he was my boyfriend.”

  “At least she’s trying to help.” Rex stopped at a red light. “She also suggested that I take a closer look at Maggie and Tim. She never liked them, either. I’m leery, too. The fact that they found you at Disneyland bothers me. I should have checked them out sooner.”

  Lisa sighed. Tim and Maggie weren’t racists. They were dear friends who’d always treated her like their own.

  “You know what else bothers me?” he asked, answering his own question. “That they’re on a camping trip with supposedly no phone or Internet access. That’s a bit too convenient.”

  “Right. Their phony alibi.” She recalled him mentioning it before. “But how is that convenient? They left before the threats started.”

  “But not before you announced that you were pregnant.”

  “So that makes them guilty?”

  “It’s something to consider.”

  “If you say so.”

  The light turned green, and he went through it. “What’s wrong, Lisa? What’s going on? Why are you pissed at me again?”

  Why, indeed. She sharpened her voice. “Is Allie related to Yvonne Whirlwind? My grandmother recognized the name.”

  “Oh, for cripes sake. Is that what this is about?” He changed lanes, moving past a pokey car. “Allie is Yvonne’s daughter. But that’s where the family tie ends. Allie helped put her mother behind bars.”

  “And you didn’t think it was worth mentioning? You’re digging around, trying to prove that one of my friends or family is responsible for the threats, and you’ve got friends with serial killers for parents?”

  “Allie’s mother has nothing to do with what’s happening to us.”

  “Us? Us?” She was shouting now. “You don’t give me any rights in this. It’s all about what you think should be done, who you think should be investigated.”

  “Calm down. You’ll upset the baby.”

  “The baby is this big.” She held up a space between her thumb and forefinger. “And it can’t hear what we’re saying.”

  “Maybe it can.”

  “Its ears are still forming.”

  “All the more reason you shouldn’t shout.”

  He was right, and she could’ve kicked him for it. She lowered her voice, but her biting tone remained. “Just investigate your side, Rex. Put equal time into the people you know.”

  “Fine. Now drop it and leave me alone.”

  He wanted to be left alone? Gladly, she thought.

  Once they got home, she marched into the house and retreated to her room, never wanting to speak to him again.

  Rex stewed for one full day, ignoring Lisa the way she ignored him.

  Finally, on the second day, he arranged for the investigation she kept balking about, then went out and bought her an apology gift. He got something for the baby, too. But he couldn’t seem to swallow his pride and give them to her.

  On the third day, he got up early, ready to make amends, but his timing was off. Lisa was in the bathroom, going through the morning-sickness thing. Feeling badly for her, he went into the kitchen to fix some food. He knew how famished she got after the nausea passed.

  Later, when she emerged, he was putting the finishing touches on breakfast, slicing fruit for the oatmeal. The eggs were already done and so was the decaffeinated cappuccino she favored.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “I cooked,” he responded.

  “For both of us?”

  “Of course for both of us. Well, mainly for you. I’m sorry we’ve been fighting, and I’m sorry I haven’t taken your concerns more seriously.” He dispensed the coffee and handed her a cup. “I asked another P.I. to investigate my side. I figured it was better to have someone else do it, someone who could be more objective.” And it wouldn’t cut into Rex’s time or take away from what he considered the primary investigation. He hadn’t changed his mind about the case, but he owed Lisa the courtesy she’d requested.

  “Thank you.” She sipped the cappuccino. Post-sick pale, but as pretty as ever, she was dressed in girlie pink pajamas. “I’m sorry we’ve been fighting, too. I’m not usually this emotional.”

  “You’re pregnant, and someone is threatening you and the baby.” Making Rex want to annihilate the son of a bitch. “Who wouldn’t be emotional?”

  “I’ve been sleeping even worse since we’ve been fighting.”

  “Me, too.” He hadn’t been able to get her off his mind. He gestured to the dining-room table. “Are you ready to eat?”

  “Yes, please.”

  She gathered the flatware, and he carried their plates. After breakfast, he would shed even more of his pride and give her the gifts he’d brought.

  He sat across from her. He knew that her parents would be going to the studio with her today. He’d meant what he’d said about everyone in her family. They were good people, and they loved her dearly.

  His family loved him, too, but it seemed different. Her family was well-adjusted and happy. They didn’t bicker among themselves.

  She dived into her breakfast. “You’re a pretty good cook.”

  “Who can’t scramble eggs? Or follow the directions on an oatmeal box? Or pop bread in the toaster?”

  “You put cheese, tomatoes and onions in the eggs. That takes creativity. The fruit for the oatmeal was a nice touch, too.”

  “You do all of that kind of stuff. I was only mimicking you.”

  She smiled. “Then you’re a good mimic.”

  “I like having home-cooked meals with you.” He was getting used to the coziness that seemed to go with it. “When I’m alone, I eat out most of the time. I guess it’s the bachelor in me.”

  Speaking of going out…

  He shifted in his chair. “I still owe you a date.”

  She lifted her coffee, and the cup hid part of her face. “I’m ready anytime you are.”

  “We could go to the Southwest Museum. They’re having a jewelry show this weekend.”

  “That would be fun. Is that an American Indian museum?”

  He nodded. “It’ll be a great place to take our kid when he or she is older. They have lots of activities for children.”

  “That sounds nice, Rex. Really nice.”

  It wasn’t the Cherokee Fair, he thought. But it would do. “We can make a day of it. We can come back and change afterward, then go to a dinner club. Someplace classy where we can dance. Does that sound all right?”

  “Totally.” She all but beamed.

  After breakfast, he said, “I have something for you. And for the baby. Wait here and I’ll get it.”

  “Okay.” She seemed pleasantly surprised.

  He darted into the guest room and retrieved the items, both of which were wrapped in fancy gif
t bags and topped with audacious bows.

  When he returned, Lisa was standing in the exact same spot. She’d taken him literally about where to wait.

  “This is yours.” He handed her the glittery gold bag. “And this is for the kid.” He turned over the one with teddy bears on it. “But I guess it’s obvious which is which.”

  She clutched both of them against her chest. “What made you do this?”

  “I felt badly about our fight.” And he felt awkward now. “Just so you know, the gift-wrapping department at the store came up with those bags.”

  “They’re pretty. Does it matter which one I open first?”

  “Not really. Well, maybe a little. Open yours first.”

  She placed the baby’s gift on the counter and peeked into hers, opening it carefully. Good thing, he thought. The item inside of it was glass.

  She unwrapped the tissue and lifted the figurine. He’d chosen a handsome male fairy with long black hair and rugged wings.

  “Oh, Rex. He’s beautiful.”

  “He’s not from the Cherokee Little People, but I thought he looked sort of how they would look, except for the wings.”

  She admired her gift. “My girl fairies are going to love him.”

  He smiled, then laughed. “Love him how? Like they’re gonna have this big, sparkly orgy?”

  “Rex.” She reprimanded him, but she laughed, too. Then she said a very sincere “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Now open the other one.”

  She set down the fairy, handling him like a special little being. To her, he was real. But Rex understood. He’d been raised on magic, make-believe and otherwise.

  Lisa opened the baby’s gift, removing a stuffed toy in the shape of a butterfly.

  Her eyes turned misty. “You bought this because of what I said, didn’t you? That the first little movement will feel like butterfly wings.”

  He nodded, and she hugged him.

  Her hair tickled his cheek, and her body fit snugly against his. He wished he had the courage to lift her pajama top and put his hand on her stomach. But he was still fighting that kind of connection, afraid of the bond it would create. Besides, what would he feel, aside from her bare skin?

  For now, that was better left undone.

  Chapter 9

  The Southwest Museum was a wondrous place. Lisa walked beside Rex, going in and out of rooms and soaking up the displays. She discovered that the museum had undergone extensive changes in the past few years, including the conservation of its collections, some of which had been damaged from water leaking into the original building. There had also been structural damage from an earthquake. Overall, the museum had been in desperate need of the grants it had received.

  It was beautiful now. The building had been renovated, with five times the previous gallery space.

  When Lisa and Rex came to the area showcasing the Eastern Woodland Indians, she touched her tummy. The Cherokee were one of the most well-known of the Woodland tribes, and the artifacts on display were part of her child’s ancestry.

  Standing beside Rex, she looked through a glass enclosure with decoy masks. Some had been constructed to stalk wild game and some had been used in what was called the Booger Dance, where men from the tribe dressed up and performed comical gyrations.

  The next enclosure held pots and bowls. The double-sided wedding vase caught her eye. In earlier times, Rex probably would have been obligated to marry her.

  “They used to break those to seal their vows,” he said, acting as her tour guide. “Some traditionalists still practice those old ceremonies.”

  “It’s fascinating.” Confused by the effect the vase was having on her, she blew out the breath she was holding. She hoped that she wasn’t falling in love. For her, that would spell disaster. Rex Sixkiller wasn’t the marrying kind. He’d admitted it more than once.

  The next enclosure offered wedding attire, which was both beautiful and primitive.

  He approached the case. “They used to exchange food instead of rings.”

  “You know a lot about ancient Cherokee weddings.”

  “It varied from clan to clan, but I know the basics. I know a bit about ancient Cherokee childbirth, too.”

  She moved closer. “Like what?”

  “The mother knelt on a robe to give birth, and afterward, the father or nearest relative buried the placenta. Also, the Cherokee weren’t known to use cradleboards.” He indicated a painting on the wall, depicting a woman with a baby tied inside of a blanket on her back. “That’s how they did it.”

  “You can buy stuff like that now. Slings, pouches and tie carriers. For the front and the back.”

  He smiled. “That’d be cool.”

  “It would, wouldn’t it?” The idea appealed to her. But suddenly it made her afraid, too. Not of carrying the baby, but of what would happen if the perpetrator succeeded in destroying the life in her womb and she never got the chance to hold it.

  Rex noticed her expression. “Don’t do that, Lisa.”

  “Do what?”

  “Think about the threats.” He slipped his arms around her. “Our child is going to be fine. He’s going to grow up strong and healthy.”

  She practically fell into his embrace. It felt incredibly good to be held by him. “He?”

  “Or she. It was a figure of speech.”

  He put his forehead against hers. She wanted him to kiss her, but she knew that he wouldn’t. When he’d asked her out, he’d sworn to behave on their date. Regardless, he was creating warmth and intimacy, and it made her crave more of him.

  Was she falling in love? Lisa didn’t have anything to compare it to. She hadn’t been in love with Jamie or Kirk, not in the true sense of the emotion. Already the depth of what she felt for Rex exceeded what she’d felt for those other men.

  He stepped back, but he continued to watch her, to analyze her. She returned his searching gaze, her heartbeat accelerating.

  “I’m okay now,” she said. She wasn’t, not completely, but she was going to try to improve her state of mind. As for her heart, she had no idea how to make it stop beating so fast.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.” What else could she do but reassure him? “Sometimes it’s tough not to think about the case.”

  “I wasn’t going to discuss it with you today, but maybe I should.”

  “Why? Is something going on?”

  “Yes, with Kirk. I came across an article he wrote for the company he works for. It appeared in an old newsletter. It was about the history of African Americans on Wall Street. It was sensitively written and not something that someone with racist affiliations would address, at least not in the way he addressed it.”

  “I knew he wasn’t the perpetrator.”

  “I’m inclined to agree.”

  “So who are you targeting now? Tim and Maggie? It isn’t going to be them, either.”

  “We’ll see. And just so you know, nothing damaging has surfaced from my side, and I told my colleague to dig deep.”

  “It’s only been a few days,” she said, then added, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  “I understand. Neither of us wants to admit that it’s someone we’re close to. But it is.”

  “You don’t believe it’s someone you’re close to, Rex. You’re certain it’s coming from my side.” And somewhere in the pit of her soul, she feared that he was right. But she couldn’t accept it. Not until she knew for certain.

  “There’s something else I should probably mention.”

  Her nerves kicked up a notch. “What?”

  “Everyone at your studio is white. The employees, the students. I noticed it, and so did the police.”

  “That isn’t intentional. My studio is located in a white neighborhood.” Not far from the neighborhood where she lived, which she realized was white, too. “It’s the area where I grew up.”

  “I’m not accusing you of anything. But here’s the thing, the perpetrator
and/or perpetrators probably thought it was intentional. They probably thought you shared their views until you slept with me and decided to keep the baby.”

  More proof that it was coming from her side?

  She said, “I can’t imagine anyone I know being a white supremacist.”

  “You could’ve missed the signs, especially if you weren’t looking for them. But why don’t we drop it for now?” He gestured toward the exit. “Do you want to go outside and check the jewelry show? That’s what we came here for.”

  “Yes. Absolutely.” She could certainly use a breath of fresh air.

  Side by side, they wandered among tables that had been set up on the lawn. Just a short distance away, a Native man in colorful regalia was telling stories to a circle of children. Parents listened, too.

  The atmosphere was festive, and every so often Rex would reach for her hand.

  “Let me buy you something,” he said.

  She thought about the fairy. “You just got me a gift.”

  “That doesn’t mean I can’t get you something else. Look at all this stuff. There are some great items to choose from.”

  He was right. The tables were filled with silver jewelry, decorated with turquoise and other ornamental stones. The pieces that drew her attention were made by the Zuni, a tribe that was known for its elaborate designs and carved fetishes.

  “I like this style the best.” She gestured to a tray of necklaces that were colorful, as well as intricate, with tiny stones creating beautiful patterns.

  “You’ve got good taste,” Rex said. “That’s called petit point.”

  Like the stitch in needlepoint, she thought.

  The white trader representing the jewelry smiled, and Lisa checked the prices and realized that she was browsing his most expensive collection.

  She tried to backpedal, rather than spend too much of Rex’s money, but he steered her toward a delicate red coral pendant with a hefty price tag.

  When she turned it over, she noticed the artist’s stamp on the back. The trader told her that the artist was a young man from the Zuni reservation, with a wife and a new baby. That seemed to please Rex.