The Baby Trail (Baby Bonds #2)

by Karen Rose Smith

  His brows drew together as he asked rhetorically, “We can’t sleep together with Tiffany here, can we? You’re going to tell me you want to set an example for her.”

  “We can snuggle on the couch,” she suggested lightly, knowing he was thinking about all of the disadvantages being involved with her would bring. She wasn’t a free spirit anymore. She had responsibilities that entailed more than her own life. Before they’d found Tiffany, he hadn’t wanted to get involved. Now there were even more reasons, very practical ones, why his life would get very complicated if he did.

  “I want more than snuggling on the couch,” he growled.

  She could see that hunger in his eyes again—the hunger that had driven their foreplay…the hunger that had made him reach for her, and her for him…the hunger that would have led them to make love again if Tiffany hadn’t called.

  “I know my life is complicated. I know this isn’t what you expected.”

  In a stride he was close to her, towering over her, the lines around his eyes deep from lack of sleep. “We don’t usually get what we expect. You’ve rattled my life, Gwen, and that’s damned uncomfortable. But I want a repeat of the first part of tonight. Somehow, we’ll carve out time, if you want it, too.”

  “I want it, too.”

  When he kissed her, she wanted to tug him back into her bedroom, forget about responsibilities and go with the moment again. But their next moment would have to wait.

  As he leaned away, she knew he didn’t want to leave any more than she wanted him to leave. “Tell Tiffany she doesn’t have to come in today,” he said gruffly. “She needs sleep. I know you don’t want to leave her in the evenings after being at work all day.”

  “She’s going to a workshop tomorrow night for new mothers.”

  He jumped on that. “How long does it last?”

  “Six to nine. I can drop her off and then drive out to your place.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Three hours with Garrett tomorrow night didn’t sound like nearly enough. Would he tire of them trying to match their schedules, of considering a child and a young mother in the mix?

  As his arms enfolded her and he kissed her again, she hung on to her love for him and hoped, in time, he’d come to feel a like love for her. If he did, then meshing their lives could be easier than either of them realized.

  But love was the key. Without it, they’d fall apart. He’d leave…

  Giving her heart and soul in their kiss, she didn’t think about the future, only the here and now.

  When Garrett awakened at 10:00 a.m. the sun was basting the room with its early November warmth. He’d gotten home around 4:00 a.m., fallen into bed and sunk into sleep. Now he spotted the empty condom wrapper on his nightstand, saw the impression of Gwen’s head in the pillow next to him. He listened to the absolute silence, broken only by the wind against the window.

  He’d been alone ever since his divorce. The silence had never bothered him before. Today it did.

  Because the sound of Gwen’s laughter filled his house when she was here? Because her presence warmed it in a way furniture and a fire never could?

  With no doubt, she was the most responsive woman he’d ever met…and the most frustrating. But her dry humor, her give-as-good-as-she-got attitude, her giving nature had sucker-punched him. Now he didn’t know if he wanted to recover.

  Critically, he thought about his baggage—a job that had turned him cynical, a divorce that had made him feel like a failure. He thought about vows he and Cheryl hadn’t lived up to and about the baby they’d both lost.

  He remembered his lunch with Cheryl in D.C. Why had she felt the need to tell him about her pregnancy? For closure? To really find out what he thought? Why now after all these years?

  For advice?

  He hoped she’d wanted closure and finally had it. He did. Cheryl’s life didn’t concern him. If she married or didn’t marry, that was none of his business.

  Now he was going to move forward with Gwen…and hope they wouldn’t tear each other’s hearts in two.

  The outside light from Garrett’s shed illuminated him as he chopped wood. Gwen watched him from the kitchen window, admiring the precise athletic way he moved. Days were getting shorter now in November. Thanksgiving wasn’t far away.

  Would they celebrate it together? She wanted so much to share the holidays with Garrett…all of them. She could envision them sitting around a table with Tiffany and Amy and her dad. Maybe even Kylie would come. Was it a wayward dream? The hope was so brand new she was almost afraid to embrace it.

  The ring of the kitchen phone jarred the peaceful stillness.

  For a moment she thought about picking it up. After all, she felt at home here now. For the past few days they’d managed a bit of time alone each day. Last night Tiffany had visited a young single mother she’d met at her parenting workshop. Gwen and Garrett had spent almost the entire evening in bed.

  She loved lying with Garrett, having him hold her. She wished they could do it every night. She wished…

  The phone rang a second, third and then fourth time. She listened to the message in case it was important, in case it was something that had to do with his work. He’d told her he had to go to D.C. again next week.

  Garrett’s “Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,” preceded a beep. Then a woman’s voice began, “Garrett, it’s Cheryl.”

  Everything inside of Gwen came instantly to attention. His ex-wife. If their lunch had been a final parting of ways, why was she calling?

  “It was good to see you in D.C. It’s hard to believe The Trellis is still there, the way restaurants come and go. Anyway, I thought about everything we talked about and—” She hesitated. “I’m not going to marry Dennis now. We’re going to wait until after the new year and see what happens. Thanks for being honest with me. Give me a call when you get back to D.C. before Thanksgiving. Maybe we can get together again.”

  When Cheryl hung up, Gwen felt as if she’d been kicked in the stomach.

  Were Garrett and Cheryl over? If she was postponing her wedding, if he’d told her he’d be in D.C. again…

  Mark had backed out of their wedding. Because he hadn’t loved her enough? Because he hadn’t been ready for a family? Or because he’d realized he’d loved his ex-girlfriend?

  Garrett and Mark weren’t anything alike.

  A cynical voice inside her head whispered, “But they’re both men.”

  She paced from the kitchen counter to the breakfast nook and back again. Had Garrett only taken his ex-wife to lunch? Had they gone to her place? Or back to his hotel room?

  Damn it. Had she been an absolute idiot again? Had she let some supposed mystical connection between her and Garrett, which was probably a combination of pure lust, hormones and pheromones, blind her into dreaming?

  Had she been living in a fool’s paradise for the past few days—thinking about the holidays spent with Garrett, planning what she might give him as a Christmas present, debating about whether or not she should tell him that she loved him?

  The sound of the ax splitting wood stopped. Her heart was pounding too hard, and she reminded herself to stay calm. For a moment, she almost panicked and thought about calling Kylie or Shaye to get their advice.

  But Kylie and Shaye weren’t in her shoes. Shaye had never had to face the possibility of Dylan loving someone else. With everything Kylie had gone through with Alex, she might understand what Gwen was facing.

  And just what was she facing? The possibility that Garrett still loved his ex-wife? That they could possibly get back together? That he’d never intended to give his heart to Gwen in the first place? That sex was simply sex for him and nothing more?

  All the advice in the world wouldn’t tell her what was in Garrett’s heart. She had to see that and hear that for herself.

  When the back door opened, she didn’t move. She almost felt paralyzed. She guessed that’s what fear and the dashing of hope did. She’d th
ought she’d hit the bottom of an emotional well the day Mark had left her at the altar. But she knew now she hadn’t loved Mark as deeply as she loved Garrett. She knew now that whether Garrett realized it or not, he’d become the linchpin of her world. She envisioned them growing so close he’d want to have kids. Maybe even get married someday. In her fantasy she’d seen them growing old together, sitting on his deck in rocking chairs, holding each other’s hands and hearts and lives.

  At this moment, she understood why her father had used alcohol to numb the pain.

  The November wind carried an icy bite as it swept into the kitchen and swirled around Gwen’s heart. The pages of the calendar on the wall fluttered, and Gwen realized Garrett had opened the door, and then gone back out to fetch the wood. Only a few ticks of the clock sounded, then there he was in his navy flannel shirt, insulated vest, arms full of logs for the fireplace.

  “Can you get the door?” he asked as he strode through the kitchen to the living room.

  She wasn’t sure what made her move then, whether it was his request, the cold air blowing down from the mountain, the surety that she had to know the truth right now. Kylie had given Alex the benefit of the doubt over and over again because she hadn’t wanted to believe the worst. Gwen had accepted Mark’s silences and his halfhearted passion because she hadn’t known she deserved better.

  But she’d thought she’d found better with Garrett. She’d thought she’d found lasting.

  When she closed the door, she shut coming-of-winter out, and all of her worries in. In the living room she could hear Garrett stacking the logs in their cubbyhole.

  She could stay silent. She didn’t have to tell him about the message. She could hold on to the illusion that they were a couple…at least for tonight.

  However, she’d never been very good at deluding herself, and she couldn’t live with herself if she did.

  Two table lamps glowed in the living room. She watched as Garrett took kindling from a fireside basket and positioned it on the grate. After he lit the dry wood, he positioned a log on it, then closed the fire screen. When he straightened and unzippered his vest, she knew she had to start somehow. She knew she had to get the answers to her many questions.

  “You got a call while you were outside.”

  When she didn’t say more he quirked a brow. “Did you answer it or let the machine take it?”

  “I let the machine take it.”

  He was looking at her quizzically now. “I guess it wasn’t search and rescue, or you would have come and gotten me.”

  “No, it wasn’t search and rescue. It was your ex-wife. You should probably listen to it.”

  Although the light in the room hadn’t dimmed, his face seemed shadowed now. Crossing to the kitchen, he stopped when he reached her and hesitated a moment. But then he went to the counter and pressed the play button.

  The message that had shaken Gwen’s world played again.

  As Cheryl’s phone message faded away, the echoes of it still seemed to vibrate in the kitchen.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he demanded.

  It was the demand that frustrated her. As if she had done something wrong. “I’m thinking that I don’t know what to think. She’s postponing her wedding. She knows you’re returning to D.C. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing is going on.”

  “After the two of you had lunch, did she go back to your hotel room with you?” She couldn’t hurt any more than she did right now, so she might as well keep going.

  His eyes and voice grew steely hard. “You don’t trust me.”

  “How can I when I hear a message like that? What am I supposed to think?”

  “You’re supposed to think I had some personal business to take care of and that’s what I did…in a restaurant. I’ve never given you any reason to doubt me.”

  “Yes, you have. I doubt you because I just don’t know you. You’re guarded, Garrett. I never know what you’re really thinking or feeling. You kept quiet about my dad’s interest in search-and-rescue work. You didn’t tell me you were considering taking him up with you. You won’t tell me about your work…it can’t all be classified.”

  Obviously frustrated, he shook his head. “This is exactly why I haven’t been involved seriously since my divorce. What do you want from me, Gwen? Total disclosure as to how I’ve spent every minute of my day? Access to every thought in my head?”

  What she wanted was his love. And now she realized she would probably never have that. So instead, she said, “I want you to tell me what’s going on with your ex-wife. I want the truth.”

  “All right, then, here it is. I hadn’t been in touch with Cheryl for years. Suddenly one day, she leaves a message on my machine. We played phone tag, and when I went to D.C. I decided to try to call her while I was there. When I did, she asked if I’d have time for lunch. We met at The Trellis, a place we used to go to. When I first laid eyes on her—I got a shock because she was pregnant.”

  Gwen’s mouth went dry, but somehow she managed to ask, “No reminiscing for old times’ sake?”

  Still in that even-this-isn’t-any-of-your-business voice he answered, “Sure, we reminisced. But I think she wanted advice. Apparently she got involved with this man because she wanted a child. Now she realizes a baby isn’t a good reason to marry. Now she realizes they don’t really know each other very well, and marriage could be a mistake. Or maybe she just wanted me to analyze her situation and put that into words.”

  Softly Gwen suggested, “Maybe she realized what she had with you was much more special than what she has with him.”

  Garrett’s hand slashed through the tension, dismissing her suggestion. “We screwed up what we had. I did. She did. That’s history. Apparently she called today to give me an update.”

  “Maybe she wants to get close again.”

  “I don’t think so. I think she was just glad for a listening ear. But whatever her motives, they don’t concern me anymore. Her life decisions have nothing to do with me now. We hurt each other badly, and with that kind of history I’m not even sure we can still be friends. The point is, Gwen, I saw Cheryl for about an hour when I went to D.C. The rest of the time I was in meetings. And if you don’t learn how to trust, you’re going to be alone for the rest of your life.”

  She took that verbal blow on the chin but wouldn’t let it keep her down. “And what about you, Garrett? If you want to be a recluse that’s fine. But if you want something serious, if you want something good, you can’t just open up your life halfway. You can’t control every thought and every emotion. You have to let yourself feel. You can’t expect a woman to be a mind reader. You can’t hold back and then get angry when a woman wants more.”

  “We’re talking about you, Gwen. You want more. Maybe I don’t have more to give.”

  “And maybe you’re afraid to give. Maybe you don’t trust any more than I do.”

  “You think I don’t trust you?”

  “I think if you did we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

  When he was silent she knew he was going into his remote mode. She knew the discussion had ended. “You said if I don’t trust anyone I’ll be alone the rest of my life. Being alone might be better than not knowing a man’s level of commitment and always wondering and worrying how soon he’ll want to leave.”

  “Not all men leave,” he growled.

  “There are lots of different ways to leave, Garrett. Closing down is one of them. I should have known better than to expect—” The tears that flooded her eyes closed her throat. She wouldn’t stand here and cry in front of him. She wouldn’t let him see how much she hurt. She wouldn’t let him know that loving him had cost her the last vestige of hope that two people could love unconditionally and become one.

  “I’d better go,” she mumbled as she went to get her coat from the chair in the breakfast nook.

  Garrett still remained silent. He didn’t move toward her, and he didn’t tell her to stay.

  As
she left him, she prayed he’d call her name. But he didn’t. She knew they were over.

  Chapter Thirteen

  At the edge of town on Saturday morning Gwen filled her minivan with gas, thinking about what she still had to do for Kylie’s baby shower the next day. When she heard the buzz of an airplane, she looked up into the gray sky and spotted a small plane. As she examined it closer, she saw navy and white against the gray sky, spotted the identifying number on the tail and knew it was Garrett’s. He must have just taken off from the airport because he was climbing higher.

  A search-and-rescue mission? A business trip? A private jaunt? The weather forecast predicted snow for later. Maybe he was going away for longer than just the day.

  Or maybe a child needed him and he had no choice.

  The sight of the plane put another tear in her heart. It had been three days since she had seen him. Three days of silence. Three days of questioning herself and what she wanted and what she could give. She wanted to be with him. She owed him an apology. But giving her trust was a huge issue. He’d never told her how he felt about her. She didn’t know if pure physical need drove him when they were together, or if there was something that went as deep as her love for him.

  As she drove into the mountains to stop at the shack of a financially strapped mother-to-be who only had a woodstove for heat and no transportation when her husband was on the road trucking, snow began to fall. These home health visits were as much about emotional support as physical care. She hadn’t been able to fit these two into her schedule this week, and she’d decided they couldn’t wait. The health of their unborn babies was at stake.

  Gwen answered Nancy’s questions, gave her a book on breast-feeding and went over emergency childbirth, in case the woman was alone when the process started. She encouraged her to go into town and stay with a friend if she could, but Nancy just shrugged and said she’d think about it. Gwen knew there was nothing else she could do.

  After another visit to a rural mom with three children who lived in a trailer and was recently divorced, Gwen saw the snow was heavier now. Her van was covered with about an inch, and as she brushed it from the side windows she worried about Garrett. What were conditions like for him? Was he in any danger?