by Sandra Paul
“Eleven something,” Ken admitted.
Del smiled in satisfaction. “Looks like we were the first to deliver. Well, we have to get going. See you later, Ken…Kip…”
“You, too, Del…Ned.”
Del paused. “Ned?”
Ken took off his glasses to polish them. “Sure. Her initials are N.E.D., aren’t they? Your last name is Delaney, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Del agreed. But Libby’s wasn’t. Still, after all they’d been through together, she’d be bound to give Nikki his name.wouldn’t she?
“Talk to you later,” he said abruptly. With a nod in Ken’s direction, he headed back toward Libby’s room, his scowl deepening. His expression darkened even more when he noticed the tag on Nikki’s wrist. Around a corner and out of sight of the nursery, he stopped to check it. Sinclair.Damn it, Libby had put Sinclair on hisbaby.
Libby looked up as he strode into the room. She was dressed in a yellow blouse he’d never seen before and her blue maternity pants. She said, ruefully, “I couldn’t get into my regular pants, but at least this blouse fits.” Self-consciously, she fingered the buttons straining across her breasts, smiling almost shyly up at him. Her smile faded, however, when she caught sight of his expression. “What’s wrong? Is it the baby?” She reached out automatically for her daughter.
“No—well, sort of,” he said, relinquishing Nikki. When Libby’s gaze shot to his in alarm, he amended, “What I mean is—damn it, Libby, will you marry me?”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Why…Del. Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure. I want Nikki—and you—to have my name. I want you to be my wife. I want everyone to know—” especially other men, he added silently “—that we’re a family. So will you do it?”
Her brown eyes softened. Her smile glowed. “Yes.”
He caught her in his arms for a deep kiss, careful not to crush Nikki between them. When he finished, he held Libby gently by the shoulders, saying, “I’ll call city hall. Maybe we can do the deed tomorrow—”
“No, let’s wait and have a church ceremony next week,” Libby said excitedly. “I want Chris to be there—and maybe my mother. What wrong?”
Del was shaking his head.
Her brow wrinkled in confusion. “You don’t want a church ceremony?”
“We don’t have time for one. I have to be in Hawaii by Thursday to board a MAC flight.”
Her eyes widened in bewilderment. “But you can’t. You asked me to marry you…I thought you’d decided to stay.”
“I can’t stay, Libby. I’ll lose my promotion if don’t return.” He put his hand on her arm. “But I’ll be back…”
She moved away and his hand dropped. Libby’s eyes were wet, but her chin lifted and her mouth firmed as she asked, “When? Next week?”
He slowly shook his head.
“Next month? Next year?” She stared at him with angry eyes. “You still want it all your own way, don’t you, Del? Well, I’m sorry but I’m going to have to decline your flattering offer.”
His face darkened. “Nicole’s my daughter, too, Libby, and whether you like it or not you’re going to have to admit it. I’ll take the matter to court if I have to.”
The baby started crying, startled perhaps by the harshness in his voice. Libby glanced away without answering, patting her daughter soothingly. She swallowed, trying to force down the lump lodged in her throat and bent to pick up the baby bag.
A stack of pink cards, tucked underneath, slid off the bed and onto the floor.
Del picked one up, automatically scanning the information she’d printed inside. The name Nicole Elizabeth Delaney leapt up at him.
His astonished gaze lifted to Libby’s. She smiled without humor. “Don’t worry. I’d already decided it was stupid not to admit the truth. The few times a year you’re home, you’ll have your daughter.”
“Libby…” Arms outstretched he took a step toward her.
She stepped back. “But you won’t have me.”
She wouldn’t speak to him after that. Nothing beyond the barest necessities. She ignored him all the way home, and once there, Libby barricaded herself behind the baby, Christine and a steady stream of visiting women.
Del kept waiting for Libby to relent. Surely she’d settle this before he left. She had to realize there was nothing else he could do. Libby would change her mind. He was so sure of it that when footsteps crunched across the graveled driveway early the next morning as he was getting the truck ready to drive to the airport, he turned, expecting to see her.
For a moment, in the hazy dawn light, he thought the small, brown-hooded figure was Libby and his heart jumped in hope. Then she spoke, and he realized it was Dorrie Jean.
“Hello, Del,” she said. “Are you leaving again already?”
There was no accusation in her tone, but for some reason the question made him feel slightly defensive. “I’ve been here almost a month,” he said. Turning away, he resumed wiping the ice off the windshield. “What are you doing up so early?”
Her breath misted out like smoke as she replied, “I’m usually up at this time. I like to take walks when no one is around”
Del grunted, not really interested in Dorrie Jean’s morning habits. Although the glass was clear now, he kept wiping, sending a glance toward his house. If Libby was going to come out, she should do it any minute, he thought. She’d come out the last time to say goodbye.
As if she could read his thoughts, Dorrie said suddenly, “I saw you leave after the blizzard, you know. When Libby came out to help you shovel out the truck.”
Del paused, turning to look at his neighbor. Dorrie Jean was watching him solemnly, her hands thrust deep into her coat pockets, her shoulders hunched against the cold.
“You knew I was here?”
She nodded. “I figured you were probably the father of the baby.”
He gave the glass a couple more swipes. “So why didn’t you say anything?”
“It was none of my business. Just like it’s none of my business that you’re leaving again.”
He slanted her a sardonic look. “But you think I’m being unfair to Libby.”
To his surprise, she shook her head. “No, I think if you want to go, you should. Libby will do fine without you.”
It was what he’d thought, too, but somehow when she put it into words, he didn’t quite like the idea. “Christine will help her,” he said, as if she had argued. “And I know you will, too.”
Dorrie Jean nodded. “Yes. Everyone cares about Libby—she wants so much for people to like her. And Nicole is darling. You won’t need to worry about them being lonely.”
“Good,” he said shortly. He scrubbed harder. “I’m providing for her financially, you know,” he said.
Dorrie Jean nodded, looking thoughtful. “That’s nice…but I don’t think Libby is looking for financial support. What she needs is more emotional. She hasn’t been as spoiled as you.”
Spoiled? Del straightened, intending to ask Dorrie what the hell she meant by that, but before he could, she glanced at her house, saying, “Uh-oh. The kitchen light is on. Mother is going to wonder where I am.”
She strode off, calling over her shoulder, “Bye, Del. See you whenever you get back.”
He watched until she disappeared into her house, then glanced at his own. No lights were on there. Each window yawned dark and silent.
Libby wasn’t coming out.
He threw the wet cloth onto the floor in the back seat. Fine, he couldn’t wait any longer for her, anyway. He’d have a hard time catching his plane as it was.
Yet when he started the truck and backed out of the driveway, he couldn’t stop himself from looking back one last time. Never before had he felt so reluctant to leave home. In the past, he’d been focused on where he was going, not on what he was leaving behind. Yet, he couldn’t get his mind off Libby.
Of course she would do fine without him. She had the last time…He frowned. Or had she? She’d been
pregnant the last time he’d left. And she’d never even called to let him know.
Still, this time she’d do okay. Like Dorrie Jean said, everyone liked Libby. Christine, Mrs. Peyton, Susan…that damn doctor. He scowled. Hopefully, he
wouldn’t be coming around, but still…what was there to stop him? Libby wasn’t married, after all. And Dorrie Jean claimed she was looking for-what was it she’d called it? Emotional support? Whatever the hell that meant?
And why had she called him spoiled? Libby’s mother had been the one with money. He’d come from a middle-class family with old-fashioned values. His parents had taught both him and Chris that, with hard work and perseverance, they could achieve whatever they set out to do. And he had. Why else would he be flying off now to the ends of the earth to meet the obligations of his well-paying job?
He reached the Portland airport and went through the boarding process almost automatically, still trying to figure out what Dorrie Jean had meant. It wasn’t until he was on the commercial three-hour flight to Hawaii that he really became aware of his surroundings again.
A baby’s cry brought him out of his abstraction. Across the aisle, a young mother was trying to quiet her fussy infant. The sounds reminded him of Nikki, and his heart seemed to tighten. How was his baby doing? She’d be okay with her mother, of course-but what about when Libby was really tired? He knew how to get Nikki to sleep. She really liked it when he stroked her temple with his finger and thumb, down the sides of her little face to her chin. Her blue eyes would widen, and gradually drift shut.
He shifted restlessly in his seat. He’d never told Libby about that little trick.and he should have. She might need to try it sometime when the baby refused to be soothed.
Like the baby across the aisle. The poor little thing was really gearing up now. No one else seemed to be bothered. The chubby man next to him was snoring, and up ahead a blond woman with the pinched-face look of a professional model didn’t even look up from her fashion magazine.
But the baby’s pitiful wailing made Del long to do something. He leaned over to offer his help. The young mother glanced up at him with so much suspicion in her tired eyes that he changed his mind. He couldn’t blame her for being wary. He was a stranger. He wouldn’t want Libby to give Nikki to someone she didn’t know or trust, either.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he found himself explaining. “I just left my own newborn. Nikki hasn’t quite figured out an appropriate schedule yet, either.”
The woman gently bounced the baby against her shoulder, giving him a weary smile. “You must miss her.”
“I do,” Del admitted, realizing the truth of the statement. He’d only been away for an hour and he already missed her like crazy. Missed both of them.
The woman sighed. “I bet your wife is lonely for you, too.”
Del thought of the dark house, the empty driveway, the tearful goodbye that had never happened. “Actually, I think they’re getting along just fine without me.”
She smiled wryly. “I wouldn’t count on it. It’s so hard to take care of a baby all alone. It’s easier when you’re with someone who cares about you.” She bit her lip, as if conscious of revealing too much to a casual stranger, before leaning back against the headrest, shutting her eyes with another sigh.
The baby finally stopped crying. Del should have felt better, but instead a yawning emptiness grew in his stomach. Because all at once, he understood what Dorrie Jean had been trying to tell him. Financially and physically, Libby could raise Nikki on her own. That wasn’t what she wanted from him. As Dorrie Jean and the stranger across the aisle had implied, what Libby needed was someone to be there through the emotional ups and downs of everyday life. Someone to help her make the little and big decisions that would affect their child. Someone who loved them both with all his heart. Someone like him.
He grimaced. Dorrie Jean had been right about something else. He was spoiled. Because of his parents’ solid marriage, he’d always known love existed, that it was waiting out there for him to claim.when he was ready. In his time. When it didn’t interfere with his goals and ambitions.
So when he’d met Libby and fallen in love with her in three short days, he’d refused to admit what had happened. It would upset all his plans, his ambitions. It wasn’t convenient right now. So he’d entered into an affair with her, telling himself it was only a temporary arrangement—when he’d known deep inside that his feelings for her hadn’t been temporary at all.
But much worse than his self-deception was that he’d taken advantage of Libby. She hadn’t had the security of a normal background with two loving parents. That had been evident by her interest in the stories he’d shared about his family, the hunger in her face as she’d listened. But he’d wooed and seduced her, letting the yearning in her heart for a family overcome her skittishness at his touch, coaxing her into accepting him, knowing that the act of making love would bind her to him more surely—and with less trouble on his part—than a ring ever would.
Oh, it sounded good—to say how could he have known she was a virgin when she hadn’t told him so—but from her tiny gasp, the surprise in her eyes the first time he’d touched her intimately, he’d known that if she wasn’t a virgin, she was inexperienced enough that it made no difference.
So he hadn’t been surprised to feel the small barrier of her innocence—in fact, the realization as he’d entered her tight, clinging body had filled him with a fierce, primitive possessiveness. She was his and his alone.
But selfishly, he hadn’t wanted to admit that he also belonged to her. He’d grown used to his freedom, his hedonistic existence where the only relationship he had was the nondemanding one with his sister, which didn’t restrict him in any way. He’d grown used to only considering himself.
So he’d left, making sure before he’d done so that Libby was bound to the relationship. He’d told her he’d be back, making the arrogant assumption that since they were consenting adults, a once-or-twice-ayear love affair would suit them both. But deep inside he’d known, when she hadn’t called, that it didn’t suit her—that it never would.
Across the way, the baby started whimpering. The man next to him continued to snore. Del looked past him to gaze out the window, mentally counting the miles and miles of vast ocean that lay between him and his family.
You picked a fine time, Delaney, he told himself, to realize what a pigheaded fool you’ve been.
How was it, Libby wondered the next morning, that a house could be full of people, yet feel so empty?
With Nikki nestled on her shoulder, Libby smiled and talked with Mrs. Peyton and Dorrie Jean, both of whom had stopped by for a visit. Yet she constantly found herself listening for someone who wasn’t there.
Which was stupid of her. What had she expected? That he would change his mind and stay home, after all? Of course he wouldn’t.
Still when the front door opened unexpectedly in the middle of Mrs. P.’s latest saga about her rheumatism, Libby’s heart leapt with hope—only to fall again as Christine came in.
Libby forced a smile at her friend.
Christine smiled back. “I picked up all the groceries you’ll need—enough to last at least a week or two, Libby.” Her smile faded and a small frown puckered her brow. “I’m sorry I have to leave so soon again. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
“Of course, I will. I just had a baby—that doesn’t make me an invalid. Nikki and I will do just fine,” Libby said.
“Don’t you worry,” Mrs. Peyton added, “I’ll stop by daily in case Libby needs anything.”
“Me, too,” said Dorrie Jean quietly.
Libby smiled at them. “Thank you,” she said gratefully. They were so sweet. And what an idiot she was to be thinking that she only wanted Del.
The tears that had been threatening since she heard his truck leave yesterday at dawn burned behind her eyes, but Libby fiercely refused to let them fall. You survived the last time he left, she reminded herself, and you’ll
do so again. She was simply having a case of the baby blues. And expecting Del to walk in the door at any moment certainly wasn’t helping.
Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to stay here—where everything constantly reminded her of him. Maybe she should move somewhere else.
Nikki, as if sensing her mother’s distress, wriggled restlessly and uttered a short wail. Mrs. Peyton pounced. “She can’t be hungry again!” the older woman exclaimed.
“I don’t think so,” Libby said. She certainly hoped not. Her nipples were so sore. Her daughter might be tiny, but she nursed like a starving piglet. “She just ate half an hour ago.”
“She’s gassy,” Mrs. P. decided. “I can tell the signs. Why don’t you give her to me, Libby? I’ll burp her again for you.”
A bit reluctantly, Libby handed the baby over.
The older woman cooed in Nikki’s face. The baby stopped crying. “She likes me!” Mrs. P. announced triumphantly. “I told you I’m good with babies. She’s stopped fussing.”
“She’s probably startled at hearing a strange voice,” Christine suggested, bringing in a plate of cookies.
Mrs. Peyton glared at her. “Nonsense. She probably thinks that I’m her grandmother.” She lifted the baby to her shoulder and patted her soothingly on the back, asking, “What did your mother say about her, Libby?”
“I haven’t told her yet,” Libby admitted without thinking.
She immediately wished she hadn’t. Mrs. Peyton looked aghast. “Libby! A girl’s mother should be the first to know.”
No, the father should, Libby thought, remembering the wonder on Del’s face when he’d first seen his daughter.
“You’d better tell her right away,” Mrs. P. declared. “Go on and call her now, if you like. I’ll take care of Nikki,” she added in a blatant attempt to hold the baby awhile longer.
Libby didn’t argue. Suddenly she wanted to call her mother. Perhaps she should see about going home.
She excused herself and went into the study. Del’s computer was there. She turned her back to the blank screen as she dialed her mother’s number.