EXPECTANT BRIDE-TO-BE

by Nikki Benjamin

  He could only blame himself and his stupidity, and he could only do that for so long. Then he was going to have to accept, once and for all, that he was better off alone, and get on with his life again as best he could. Either that, or try to think of another way to win back her regard.

  Deciding, one way or another, would have to wait until tomorrow, though. Tonight he was going to find a liquor store, buy a bottle of bourbon, go back to his hotel room and have himself a little pity party. There would be hell to pay in the morning, but anything that took his mind off Abby Summers, even temporarily, would be worth it in the end.

  * * *

  Chapter 9

  « ^ »

  Abby huddled on the entryway floor, her back pressed against the solid wood of the door listening to the sound of Jack's footsteps as he left her front porch. The pounding beat of her heart finally began to slow, but her anger lingered on.

  How dare he show up out of nowhere, expecting her to listen to his excuses? And to do so now, of all times.

  Was it merely coincidence that Jack had come to San Francisco just days after her doctor confirmed that she was pregnant? Or had Judith taken it upon herself to share the news with him despite her granddaughter's insistence that there was no need for him to know?

  When Abby had called to tell her about the baby, admitting at the same time that she and Jack had shared more than dinner in December, Gran had said it was only fair that he be advised of the situation, as well. In Judith's eyes, Jack was an honorable man, and she'd been sure that once he knew Abby was carrying his child, he would do right by her. They had obviously cared enough about each other to make love, and as far as her grandmother was concerned, they would have as much chance as any couple to live happily-ever-after with that foundation to build on.

  Abby hadn't wanted to disillusion Judith by telling her exactly how Jack had viewed their one night of intimacy, but neither was she going to accept charity of any kind from him just to relieve her grandmother's anxiety.

  She wasn't like Larissa. She had a high-paying job, a home of her own, and enough savings to see her through the weeks of maternity leave she would be taking. She didn't need a man around to take care of her, even temporarily. And she certainly didn't need a man telling her what she should do about her problem. To her way of thinking, she didn't have one.

  From the moment her doctor had confirmed her suspicions, Abby realized just how much she wanted the child growing in her womb. In fact, her maternal instincts had risen with a fierceness that had taken her by surprise. She would have to keep on working, as most single mothers did, but she was already planning to spend every free hour she had with her baby.

  Her baby, created in a moment when her heart, at least, had been filled with the glory and wonder of love.

  Had their night together meant as much to Jack, Abby would have gone to him with her news in an instant. But he'd let her know it hadn't. With that in mind, she'd decided it would be better to raise her child alone. She didn't want her son or daughter to ever be treated like an unwanted burden.

  She had managed just fine without a father, thanks in large part to Judith and Hank, and they would be there for her child, too, albeit at a distance.

  Unless she could find a way of talking them into moving to San Francisco.

  Abby had plenty of room for them, as well as the baby, in her town house. And with her grandparents living in San Francisco, she would have no reason to return to Promise, Nevada once her mother's house was sold.

  That would eliminate any chance of running into Jack when she had the baby in tow, and, in turn, would make her life so much easier in the long run. She didn't want him feeling obliged to her in any way, especially out of a false sense of responsibility.

  Having come full circle, Abby found herself wondering, once again, whether Jack had come to San Francisco because Judith told him about her pregnancy. Aware that there was only one way to find out, she got to her feet rather gracelessly and went into the kitchen to call her grandmother.

  Judith answered after several rings, sounding sleepy.

  "Hi, Gran," Abby began, hoping she hadn't awakened her grandparents. Though it was still early by her standards, she realized, too late, that they might have already gone to bed. "I hope I didn't get you up."

  "Actually, your granddad and I were just getting ready to turn off the light. How are you, sweetie?"

  "Just fine, Gran."

  "Still feeling sick in the morning?"

  "Yes, but it doesn't seem quite as bad now that I know the reason for it."

  "You're probably over the worst of it," Judith said, her tone reassuring.

  "Probably," Abby agreed, then hesitated.

  Maybe she should wait to tell her grandmother about Jack's visit. She didn't want to cause her unnecessary concern so close to bedtime. Still, the sooner she knew if he knew about the baby, the better prepared she would be for any further salvos on his part.

  Jack might not care about her, but he might care enough about his child to demand custody rights. That could open up a whole new, potentially devastating, can of worms. The Randalls were rich and powerful people, used to getting what they wanted. And if they wanted her child…

  "I had a visitor earlier this evening," Abby said, willing away the small knot of fear that had settled in her stomach. "Jack Randall came to see me. I was wondering if you … if you sent him here."

  "Oh, no, Abby. I would never do that. At least, not knowing how you feel about the situation. I might not agree with you, but I've respected your wishes."

  "Thanks, Gran. I really appreciate it."

  So, Jack hadn't come out of sense of responsibility or out of a need to establish his parental rights, Abby thought with relief. But then, why had he made the effort to track her down?

  Her grandmother seemed to be thinking along the same lines.

  "He must have really wanted to see you to take time away from the clinic when he's only been working there a month or so," Judith said, her tone brightening considerably. "What did he say? And, more importantly, what did you say?"

  "He said he wanted to talk to me," Abby replied. "I told him the time for talking had long passed, and then I sent him away."

  "Oh, Abby, you didn't," Judith murmured, making no effort to hide her dismay.

  Of course, her grandmother wasn't aware of how he'd left her that cold December morning—with a bare-facts note about a torn condom. But Judith's comment made Abby realize that she might have made a mistake when she refused to hear what Jack had to say.

  "What should I have done instead?" she asked, allowing her frustration to get the better of her. "Invite him to have a drink, listen quietly to whatever he wanted to tell me, then casually mention that I'm expecting his baby?"

  "And what would have been so wrong about that?" her grandmother asked, in turn.

  "I don't want his charity," Abby said.

  "Maybe charity isn't what he would have offered you."

  Abby couldn't bring herself to admit that her grandmother might be right. Instead, she stated as breezily as she could, "He was just a friend. A friend who happened to be feeling sad and lonely at the same time I was. We spent a night together, and that's all there is to it."

  Judith didn't say anything for several moments, then finally conceded, "Well, dear, you know him better than I do."

  Abby wasn't sure how true that was, but she wasn't about to admit it. After promising to call again in a few days, she said goodbye to her grandmother and cradled the receiver.

  The rest of the evening stretched ahead of her, long and lonely. She couldn't seem to settle down to anything, especially the work she'd brought home from the office. She drifted from room to room, picking up a book, then setting it down, turning on the television, clicking through the channels, then turning it off again. And all the time she thought about Jack, wondering where he was and what he was doing, then telling herself she didn't care.

  She didn't want him in her life, and she certainly
didn't need him in it, either. Just because he'd had an attack of conscience about the way he'd left her in December—which had to be why he'd come to San Francisco—didn't mean she had to beat herself up for sending him away so rudely.

  Still, Abby kept catching herself playing what-if.

  What if he had come to see her because he'd realized he loved her? What if the mistake he said he'd made had been walking out on her? What if he had wanted to make up for the hurtful way he'd treated her? If only she hadn't reacted out of anger and, in all honesty, fear, as well.

  If only she had given him a chance to say what was on his mind. Maybe she wouldn't be alone tonight, after all.

  Or maybe she would be even more alone than ever…

  Better not to have any more hopes or dreams that revolved around Jack Randall, Abby cautioned herself as she finally crawled into bed.

  Having them dashed once had been more than enough for her.

  * * *

  Chapter 10

  « ^ »

  Jack finished dictating notes on his morning patients into his recorder for the clinic secretary to transcribe, then glanced at his watch and checked his schedule for the afternoon. He had over an hour before his next patient was due—time enough to walk over to the café across the square and eat a sandwich. Better yet, he could order something to go, then stop in at the real estate agent's office to check on the progress of his loan application and the results of the inspection on the house just outside of town that he had finally decided to buy.

  Getting approval for the loan shouldn't be a problem, as the agent had assured him. Even though he had only been working at the clinic three months and his salary was relatively modest, he didn't have any other debts.

  He also knew that the old, ranch-style house on several acres of land that included a small orchard needed work, most of which he planned to do himself. The inspection was mainly to determine that the foundation was solid, the roof wouldn't cave in, and the plumbing and electrical wiring would suffice for a while without the risk of pipes bursting or lights shorting out.

  His parents had wanted him to buy one of the two much more elegant houses currently on the market in their exclusive neighborhood—a home more befitting his position, his mother had said. Jack had known that would lead, inevitably, to his being drawn into Promise's social whirl, such as it was—something he was determined to avoid at all cost.

  As it was, since he'd been back in town, he had joined his parents once a month for dinner at their country club, and each time he'd been forced to extricate himself from the overly attentive company of someone's single daughter, sister, niece or cousin, twice removed.

  He wasn't interested in dating anyone, even occasionally, much less pursuing a more permanent relationship. The woman he wanted didn't seem to want him, but he was far from giving up hope where she was concerned.

  At the risk of looking like a stalker, Jack intended to go back to San Francisco to see Abby again over the holiday weekend at the end of May. Try as he might, he couldn't get her out of his mind. Nor would he accept that she wanted nothing more to do with him. At least not until she'd heard what he had to say about how he'd really felt the night they'd spent together in December.

  Just a few more weeks, and he would be with her again. And he would find a way to make her listen to him, no matter how he had to beg and plead. In the meantime, he planned to pour all of his excess energy into remodelling his new home, and if that made him seem antisocial, then so be it.

  Pushing away from his desk, Jack stood, stacked the files for his afternoon patients that his nurse had left for his review and put them in his out box. Then he headed down the narrow hallway leading from the doctors' private offices to the clinic's back exit.

  As he reached the door, it opened and one of his colleagues, the clinic's internist, Aaron Post, stepped into the hallway.

  "Whew, it's hot out there and it's only the first week in May," Aaron said. Running a hand through his short, dark hair, he offered Jack a congenial smile. "You just getting away for lunch?"

  "I had some notes to dictate," Jack answered by way of explanation. "I have a pretty busy afternoon ahead of me, so I thought I'd better get them done while I had the chance."

  "Everything going okay?"

  "So far, so good. How about you?"

  "Better than good." Aaron's smile widened enigmatically.

  "Hey, what's going on?" Jack asked, smiling, too. As the staff pediatrician, he worked more closely with Donald Brooks, the clinic's OB-GYN. But he had more in common with Aaron. They were nearer in age and they were both single. Recently, they had played a couple of rounds of golf at the country club and occasionally they'd had a beer together at one of the country-western bars that Aaron patronized.

  Having gone through a bitter divorce nearly two years ago, Aaron was no more interested in dating than Jack—at least, not until lately. About three weeks ago, he'd declared that he was ready to get back in the saddle again. Since then, he'd been scoping out Promise's eligible women with increasing dedication.

  Jack had declined his offer to join the hunt. In fact, he had gone so far as to introduce Aaron to his mother in the hope that she would busy herself finding him a mate, and thus, have no time left to meddle in her own son's life.

  "I probably shouldn't tell you, but since you've said you're not interested in dating, I'm assuming you won't offer any competition," Aaron replied.

  "Ah, you've met someone who measures up to your standards." Jack cocked an eyebrow inquiringly. "Who's the lucky lady?"

  "I don't know her name yet. In fact, all I really know is that she's new in town. Well, not exactly new. She used to live here years ago, and she's come back to take care of some family business. At least according to Marilyn, our favorite waitress at the café. I'm assuming she would know since she seems to be as tapped into Promise's information pipeline as anyone around town. Oh, and she's gorgeous. Not Marilyn." Aaron rolled his eyes at the thought of plain, sturdy, old Marilyn Mertz, then added, "She has the most beautiful auburn hair, brilliant blue eyes, and one of the sweetest smiles I've ever seen."

  "Where did you see her?" Jack asked, all trace of his own smile gone.

  Though he could be mistaken, there was a better than average chance that the woman who had attracted Aaron's attention was Abby Summers—his Abby Summers. And if she was back in Promise, for whatever reason—

  "Oh, no, you don't," Aaron retorted good-naturedly. "I've got first dibs on her."

  "Actually, I'm pretty sure I know who you're talking about. We went to high school together, and I saw her again when I was here in December. She's also the reason I went to San Francisco in March." Jack hesitated, then added boldly, staking his claim with a series of white lies he hoped he wouldn't regret, "I've been expecting her to show up in Promise any day now, but she loves surprises. Which is probably why I haven't seen her yet, myself."

  "Just my luck … the one woman who really intrigues me, and she's already hooked up with you. No wonder you haven't been interested in dating."

  "So, where did you see her?" Jack prodded, refusing to be diverted. "Maybe I can surprise her."

  "She was sitting at one of the tables in the café, having lunch. According to Marilyn, she had an appointment with Jan Nelson at the real estate agency that had to be rescheduled for the afternoon—something to do with selling her mother's house. That Marilyn … she sure knows how to get information out of people, doesn't she?"

  "Was she still at the café when you left?" Jack asked.

  "She was, along with Jan Nelson, but I gathered—from Marilyn, of course—that they would be going back to Jan's office shortly. I imagine that's where you'll find her now."

  "Thanks, Aaron. I owe you one."

  "Big time," his friend shot back. "So, you're off to the real estate agency, then?"

  Jack nodded as he moved purposefully to the door.

  Oh, yes, he was going to the real estate agency. And if Abby wasn't there, he was going to h
er mother's house as soon as he'd seen the last of his afternoon patients. Should it be necessary, he would even go so far as to track her down at her grandparents' apartment.

  "I hope she won't be upset that she didn't have a chance to surprise you," Aaron added.

  "I'm sure she won't," Jack assured him with a wave of his hand.

  Especially since she'd probably had no intention at all of seeing him if she could help it.

  How long had she been in Promise? Jack wondered as he pushed through the door. And, more important, how long did she plan to stay?

  Something told him the clock was already ticking fast. Abby wouldn't want to spend any more time in Promise than absolutely necessary, and that meant he might only have a matter of days to woo her into trusting him again. Just getting her to listen to him was going to take some doing. Getting her to believe in him again as well would be even more difficult. She would have only his word to go on. And he would be contradicting what he'd written in that damned note…

  But why would he pursue her unless he truly cared for her? He would have to make a point of asking her just that question, he decided. She had closed her door in his face once. Only a man deeply in love would try again to prove himself worthy.

  She wouldn't be able to argue with that bit of reasoning, and that, in turn, would surely work in his favor.

  Outside the clinic, the midday heat hit Jack full force, the bright sunlight making him squint. He fished his sunglasses from his shirt pocket and slipped them on as he walked up the side street that led to the town square.

  He cut across the little park, grateful for the patches of shade provided by the trees, barely acknowledging the greetings of the few people he passed. He kept his gaze focused on the real estate agency's tidy storefront window, willing Abby to still be there.

  Since he could claim to have legitimate business with Jan Nelson, himself, he would be able to make their meeting seem accidental. And with other people around, Abby's anger at him might not flare up quite as wildly as it had in San Francisco.