by Judy Duarte
Again, Simone glanced out into the distance, but Mike could see the cogs turning, her mind drifting, and he wished she’d share those thoughts with him.
He couldn’t imagine his future without kids. He adored his nieces and nephews and looked forward to the day he could give them a couple of cousins to play with.
She obviously felt badly that Millie couldn’t have the family she’d dreamed of. Maybe that was because Simone harbored some secret maternal urges, too. And if so, that would play right into Mike’s hands.
Unless, of course, Simone had reason to believe that she couldn’t have children. Maybe that’s why she took such a strong stance against marriage or even a relationship.
“Adopting a child is a good option,” Mike said, just in case he’d touched on a sore subject. He wanted her to know that he’d be okay if she was infertile—disappointed, but okay. “And there’s always a need for good foster parents. So even if a person can’t have kids of their own, there are plenty of opportunities to be parents.”
“Yes, you’re right.” Her voice came out soft, burdened. “Millie’s the kind of woman who would make a great mother. And if I were a kid, I would have loved to have someone like her adopt me.”
One night at the hospital, he’d mentioned that he came from a big family and that he hoped to have a few children of his own someday. She admitted to being an only child and said she wasn’t big on kids.
But that couldn’t be true. She was terrific with the pediatric patients who came in to the E.R.
“You know,” Mike said, “not being able to have children wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
“You’re right. And honestly, Millie was far more concerned about losing Fred than her chance at adopting a baby. She loves him more than anything in the world and is glad to have him for as long as possible. She’s also resigned to the fact that their pets will be the only children they have.” Simone unhooked her seat belt, handed Wags to Mike and reached for the door handle. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to one of the nicest couples in Walnut River.”
* * *
Millie Baxter, a tall, slender blonde in her late thirties, broke into a smile that lit up the room when she spotted Simone enter the pet shop.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite nurse.” She left her position near the cash register and greeted Simone at the door with a warm hug.
The Baxters tried hard to remember the names of not only their customers, but also their customers’ pets, but they didn’t offer hugs to just anyone.
“Where’s Woofer?” Millie asked.
“He’s at home and not all that happy about it. But he’d really be pouting if he knew where I was. He loves coming here with me to shop, although part of the reason is because of those meaty treats you always give him.” Simone turned to Mike and introduced him to Millie, calling him her friend and mentioning that he was a paramedic.
“And who is this sweet little guy?” Millie asked, zeroing in on the puppy in Mike’s arms.
“His name is Wags,” Mike said, “and he’s going to stay with Simone until I find another place to live.”
“I’ll bet Woofer loves you,” Millie said to the dog.
“They haven’t met yet,” Simone said. “And I’m not sure how Woofer is going to feel about sharing my time or having a houseguest.”
“Just take it slow and easy when you introduce them. There’s always a bit of an adjustment period, but I’m sure they’ll be the best of friends before you know it.” Millie looked at Mike. “Would you like me to hold Wags for you while you shop?”
“Thanks. I have a feeling we’ll be needing both hands.” Mike passed the puppy to Millie. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d better get a cart.”
“Where’s Fred?” Simone asked. She hoped he was feeling okay and hadn’t stayed home.
“Helen Walters purchased a new aquarium for her nephew, so he drove over to the boy’s house to help them set it up. He’s been gone quite a while, so I expect him back soon.”
The Baxters were very generous with their time and their expertise, so going the extra mile wasn’t surprising.
“That was sweet of Fred to help.”
“Aw, you know how Fred is.” Millie smiled, eyes crinkling. “If there’s anything he likes more than animals it’s kids.”
“Okay,” Mike said upon his return with a cart. “Where do we find the dog supplies?”
“They’re on aisle one.” Simone pointed to the right. “I’ll show you.”
As they strode through the small but well-stocked and -organized shop, Simone pointed to the basset hound snoozing on a blue pad by the cash register. She noticed that he was wearing the usual bandanna around his neck. It was red this time, although the color and print usually varied from day to day.
“That’s Popeye Baxter,” Simone told Mike. “He comes to work with Fred and Millie each day and is practically a fixture around here.”
“Lucky dog.”
“Yes, he certainly is. The Baxters own quite a few pets.” All of which they referred to as “the kids.”
“Are the other animals here at the store?”
“Most of them are. Tina the cat is usually playing on a carpet-covered climbing structure in the kitty section. And Herb the parrot is perched in the bird aisle.”
Mike scanned the interior of the pet store. “I can see why you like to stop in and visit.”
“Can you?” she asked. She’d always thought animal lovers were a bit…over the top. But that was until she met the Baxters—and adopted Woofer. The big, goofy dog had really grown on her. She suspected that was because she and the mutt had a lot in common.
“Honey,” a man’s voice rang out. “I’m back.”
“That’s Fred.” Simone nodded to the short, heavyset man who’d entered the store through the back door. “I’ll introduce you after we finish stocking up on supplies.”
Ten minutes later, they’d filled the cart with a doggie bed, chew toys, puppy food, a pet carrier, leash and collar.
“Hey, wait.” Mike threw in a bulky piece of knotted rope and a rawhide bone. “We don’t want Woofer feeling left out.”
She figured the toys would all become community property eventually. “You don’t need to worry about Woofer.”
“Maybe not, but my sister Kari just had her second baby—a boy. And she bought a doll and a toy stroller for his big sister. She didn’t want her little girl to be jealous of the new baby.”
See? Simone knew nothing about that sort of thing, which was another reason she would make a lousy mother, if given the chance.
“You know,” Mike said as they approached the checkout counter, “speaking of kids, this kind of feels like we’re preparing a doggie nursery.”
The hint of a chuckle tickled the tone of his voice, but Simone didn’t find anything warm or amusing in the words.
They weren’t co–dog owners.
And there wasn’t anything parental about their relationship, even though a child they’d created was growing in Simone’s womb.
A sense of uneasiness settled over her as she thought of giving up the baby. But the child deserved a loving home with two parents, a couple who would lovingly prepare a nursery in anticipation of the child they’d always wanted. And she tamped down the momentary discomfort.
Simone glanced at Millie and recognized a soulful longing that whisked across her face, a momentary stab of grief.
It wasn’t likely that Millie and Fred would ever have the chance to decorate a nursery. And the shame of it all was that they’d make great parents. If given the opportunity, they’d welcome a new baby…
Simone’s musing took an interesting turn.
Maybe Fred and Millie would want her baby.
Wouldn’t it be easier to give the child to people she knew? A couple she trusted?
It was certainly something to consider. And she hoped that Mike would see the wisdom in it—when the time came to tell him that during their one night together they conceived a bab
y.
She sure hoped he wouldn’t give her a hard time about the decision she’d made.
Still, her tummy tossed and turned.
What if Mike didn’t agree? What if he didn’t let up on her and tried to push her into something she knew was wrong—at least, for her?
“That will be a hundred and twenty-seven dollars and sixteen cents,” Millie said, drawing Simone from her musing.
Mike whipped out his credit card in a blur. Or so it seemed.
Simone blinked, feeling a bit dizzy and light-headed.
Whew. All she needed to do was to pass out. The dedicated paramedic and the dutiful suitor in Mike would have a field day with that.
Uh-oh.
A buzz filled her ears, and she reached for Mike’s arm, felt the bulge of muscle tense.
He turned and caught her eye, his smile morphing into a frown. “What’s the matter?”
“I…” Damn. She didn’t want to tell him. But if she didn’t, he was going to figure it out all by himself. “I think I’m going to…”
Her knees buckled before she could finish the thought.
Chapter Three
Mike caught Simone in his arms just before she crumpled to the pet-shop floor.
As much as he wanted to hold her close, to cling to the citrusy scent of her bath soap and shampoo, he gently laid her down and knelt beside her. He might be medically trained and competent in an emergency, but he wasn’t at all prepared for Simone’s collapse.
“Oh my gosh,” Millie said, hurrying around the counter to see what was going on. “Is she okay? What happened?”
Mike didn’t know for sure. “I think she fainted.”
Simone’s vulnerability damn near sent him reeling, and he took her hand, checking her pulse while assessing her respiration. He placed a hand on her forehead to gauge her temperature and found it cool, so she didn’t have a fever.
Her lashes, dark and lush against the skin that had gone pale, fluttered ever so slightly.
“Fred!” Millie called. “Come quick!”
Simone lifted her lids, blinking them a couple of times until her eyes searched Mike’s face, as though she was trying to focus.
When she tried to sit up, he stopped her. “Just lie still for a minute or two.”
“Okay.” She drew in a shaky breath, then slowly blew it out.
“How are you feeling?” Mike ran his knuckles along her cheek—God, he’d missed touching her.
“A little light-headed and buzzy, but nothing hurts.”
Again, she began to fold up into a sit. And this time, he placed his hands on her shoulders and gently held her down. “I’m calling the shots, and you need to lie still a little longer.”
She offered him a wry smile. “I thought paramedics were supposed to yield to the nursing staff.”
“Yeah, well, not when the nurse is incapacitated.” He tried to shrug off his concern, but couldn’t. What the hell had happened? And why?
Damn. He wanted to do so much more than tell her to stay put and to remain quiet, but she was conscious. And he couldn’t find any of her vitals out of whack. So he relied on his training to tell him she was okay when his heart was telling him to call 911 and ask for backup.
Deciding upon a compromise, he said, “As soon as you feel up to moving, I’ll take you to the hospital and get you checked out.”
“No, that’s not necessary. I’ll be okay.” She closed her eyes, but only for a moment. “This isn’t serious, Mike. Besides, it was my own fault.”
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t eaten anything since yesterday at lunch, and I really should have grabbed a snack on our way out the door.”
He hoped she wasn’t dieting; she didn’t need to lose weight. She was in great shape. And even if she could stand to lose a couple of pounds, she ought to know that starvation wasn’t the way to go.
“I got a little light-headed and—” she shrugged her shoulders “—I passed out.”
She could say that again.
He watched the color slowly creep back into her face. “Why haven’t you been eating?”
“I was tired when I got home from work last night and decided to stretch out on the sofa and watch a little television before fixing dinner. The next thing I knew, it was morning.” She slowly sat up and leaned her back against the counter. “And when I woke up, I… Well, I just got busy. That’s all.”
And then he’d dragged her shopping for pet supplies. Great.
By this time, Fred Baxter came running to their side, his breathing heavy and more labored than a short, indoor jog should have caused. “Oh my goodness! Simone. What happened?”
“I fainted,” she said. “I’m sure it was caused by low blood sugar.”
“I’ve got some orange juice in the back room,” Millie said. “And a granola bar.”
“That would help.” Simone slowly sat up, then ran a hand through her hair. “Thank you.”
As Millie hurried through the store, Mike said, “You’re going to need to eat more than juice and a snack. I’ll take you across the street to the deli so you can order lunch.”
And for once, when it came to Simone, he wasn’t going to sit back and let her call the shots.
Minutes after Fred had loaded their purchases into Mike’s Jeep and returned the key, Simone allowed Mike to lead her across the street to Prudy’s Menu. The small bakery/deli specialized in scrumptious desserts, gourmet coffees and teas, as well as homemade breads, soups and sandwiches.
They sat at one of the green bistro tables that graced the street-front patio of the eatery. An umbrella shaded them and their place settings from the dappled sunlight that filtered through the leaves of several old maples that grew along Lexington Avenue.
The waitress had just given them water and taken their orders.
“Are you feeling better now?” Mike asked.
“I’m still a little shaky, but it’s passing.” Simone offered him a smile she hoped was convincing.
She wasn’t used to being coddled or taken care of. Even as a kid, when she’d actually been sick, she’d had to fend for herself. So she’d gotten accustomed to being alone when she was under the weather and, to be honest, actually preferred it that way. For a woman who dispensed endless doses of TLC for a living, she was uneasy being on the receiving end.
Of course, now that she’d had a granola bar to eat and some juice to sip, she was almost back to normal—at least, physically. Emotionally, not so much. The news of her pregnancy was still a little unsettling.
Giving the baby up might not be easy, but it would be for the best.
“Are you too cold?” he asked. “Or too warm? We can go back inside if you’d be more comfortable.”
She reached across the table and placed her hand over the top of his. “I’m fine. And I’ll be even better when the waitress brings my soup. Besides, we have to sit outside because of Wags.”
“You’re right, but I’ll bet Millie and Fred would have watched the puppy for us.”
Simone peered under the table, where Wags was tethered to a chair leg by a new red collar and leash. He was so content to be greedily chomping on a little rawhide bone that he didn’t even glance up at her. “Look how happy he is.”
Mike’s gaze remained on her. “If it gets too warm for you out here, if the sun is too bright, let me know and I’ll take him across the street so we can go inside.”
“The temperature is perfect. And besides, the fresh air will help clear my head.” She offered him another don’t-worry-about-me smile, then scanned the small patio, where only one other group of diners—an elderly man and two women—sat.
There hadn’t been many people wanting to eat outdoors during the winter months, so it was nice to see the weather changing. And while she knew a cold spell could still strike at any time, she preferred to think that spring was here to stay.
Apparently, Belle, Prudy’s daughter who was now running the eatery, agreed, because there were several pots of red
geraniums gracing the patio that hadn’t been there the last time Simone had stopped in for a bite to eat.
When the waitress brought their lunch—a turkey sandwich and vegetable soup for her and a pastrami on rye for Mike—Simone dug in.
The fainting spell was probably a combination of pregnancy hormones as well as a low blood sugar level from not eating, but she would talk to the doctor to make sure. There was no reason to take any unnecessary chances or to jeopardize the baby’s health. From now on, she would put the child’s best interests above her own.
Simone didn’t need a psychiatric evaluation to tell her the baby would be much better off with another mom. She’d wished a hundred times over that her mother would have had the courage to do the right thing when faced with an unwanted, unplanned pregnancy. Susan Garner would have done herself and Simone a huge favor by signing over maternal rights at birth, but that hadn’t happened.
And now, ironically, Simone was faced with the same decision. And while that decision might have come quickly, it wasn’t being made easily.
Would the baby look like Mike, with his black hair and green eyes? Or would it look more like her?
She could hardly imagine.
Had her mother been faced with those same questions when she’d been pregnant?
Maybe even more so, under the circumstances. And she suspected that when handed a baby who favored her father, Susan Garner had recoiled emotionally.
Genetics could be a real bitch sometimes.
When Simone had taken her second bite of the sandwich, she glanced up to catch Mike studying her. His hair, as black as a young raven’s wing, was spiked in a style that suited him. And his eyes, as green as a blade of new grass, were intense and quick.
He was of medium height, but there was nothing average or run-of-the-mill about him.
Their gazes locked, as they sometimes did, with a bond of friendship and professional respect.
So there was a bit of sexual attraction, too. But she knew better than to latch onto something as fleeting as that and glanced back at her food.