* * *
Once she started talking, Cassie couldn’t seem to stop. Sitting in Wood’s truck, words just poured out of her.
“The anemia is mild at this point,” she said, still wrapping her mind around the fact that her baby wasn’t dying, didn’t have a terminal disease. But her child still had a medical issue. “There are several known causes, the most common of which is blood type incompatibility, but we know we don’t have that, as your blood type was checked against mine before insemination.”
His blood. Hers. Together inside her. The realization brought a warmth...and strange bit of calm...to an unreal day.
“Which is why they didn’t immediately think of anemia. It’s possible my blood and the baby’s commingled...” She went to describe something she didn’t fully understand, in the words the doctor had used. And then realized he didn’t need her plebeian explanations. “I’m sure Elaina can explain it all to you better than I can,” she said.
And then stopped talking. He’d never, for one second, given her reason to believe he wanted more from her.
But her...she was starting to fantasize about the man. To want more. She was the one in the wrong.
“I’d like to hear it from you.” Wood broke into her thoughts. “While I’m only a donor, the reality is that that child is a product of my body. I’m finding that knowledge to carry some weight, paperwork aside. I know I have no rights to parent the child, but the law can’t stop me from caring.”
Something told her she should discount that point. Couldn’t find an argument. A lawyer, used to proving sides, and she couldn’t find an argument.
“That being established, I’d like to be kept abreast of this information.”
His request was fair. She was the one who’d contacted him. Who’d drawn him into this. Staring out the windshield of the still parked truck, she told herself she could draw clear lines and stay on her side of them.
“Fetal anemia can be fatal, but only if it’s not tended to,” she continued. “For right now, I’m just to watch my diet, and there’ll be a change in my vitamins to compensate for the baby’s lack of iron. I’ll have to be monitored closely. They can watch things through ultrasound to begin with, judging blood flow from shadows. If things continue to get worse, they’ll do another amnio. Since they don’t know what’s causing the anemia, they can’t really predict how this is going to go.”
“Worst-case scenario?”
She didn’t want to go there, but found herself able as she looked into his concerned gaze. The man was a well of strength like none other. He just took it on. Made it look easy.
“In-utero blood transfusion.”
“I didn’t know they could do such things.”
“I didn’t, either, until today. Apparently it’s done like the amnio, with ultrasound assistance, except the needle goes directly to the baby.” She shuddered. “I’m going to put that one out of my mind.”
“Good idea. They’ve caught it early, and that’s always better than not.”
She nodded. Wanted to believe that there was no real danger. Had been hoping so hard to hear that the test would show nothing wrong with her baby at all. That the ultrasound shadow had been just that...a shadow.
But her baby didn’t have a terminal blood disease. That was the bottom line. Elation flooded through her again, a muscle-weakening euphoria that brought on another threat of tears as the reality started to sink in. There was a slight complication, but her baby was healthy overall. With a normal life prognosis.
She was really going to have a baby! A child of her own to live with, raise and love.
“If a transfusion is needed, my blood is available,” Wood said, his hand on the keys.
She nodded again. Filled with conflicting emotions and gratitude and something deeper, too, as she looked at him.
Aware of an if-only that was dangerous at best.
If only they were a couple, not just the mother and father of the child she carried. They’d be kissing, touching, spending the day together, celebrating the day’s good news and sharing the tad bit of worry, as only parents could. Others would love her baby. She had no doubt about that. Love it fiercely. But not with the special bonding love of a parent.
Almost as though he could read her mind, Wood glanced away. Put his hand on the key in the ignition. But didn’t turn on the vehicle. “So...is it a boy or a girl?”
She’d been keeping the news to herself. Trying to keep herself in check. He was the donor, not the father. Shouldn’t the baby’s family be the first to know?
And the presence of him, the warmth, the touch of his fingers on her cheeks, the look in his eyes, the willingness to stay up most of the night texting with her about old television shows, his awareness of struggles she was keeping deeply hidden inside her...
Was he hoping for one or the other? Did it make a difference to him?
She truly hadn’t cared about the sex of the baby. And yet...knowing made her love that little body growing inside her even more. Made the relationship that much more solid. Real.
He wasn’t there for a relationship. With either of them.
He’d started the engine. Accepting her silence without argument. Or even persuasion.
“It’s a boy,” she said as he put the truck in gear. “I’m going to name him Alan, after my father.”
She didn’t know what to think when Wood backed up and pulled out of the lot without saying a word.
Chapter Nine
“Have you got a couple of minutes? I have something to show you.” Wood kept his gaze on the road as he made the request, not allowing himself to so much as look in her direction as he digested the news she’d just given him. He was going to have a son.
Only biologically.
In that initial moment, the idea was killing him.
He’d debated for a minute or two, following through on the plan he’d concocted Wednesday after he’d dropped her off at home. Might have changed his mind, donated the bench he’d made. Only the fact that he’d already delivered his offering to its intended location earlier that morning, a location she’d certainly be visiting probably that weekend, prompted him to ask the question.
“Of course,” she said, and he allowed himself to live with the anticipation of her pleasure during the short drive—attempting to shut out all else.
He was going to have a son in the world, but not in his life. He’d done a favor for Peter.
Like the night before Peter had married Elaina. He’d asked for Wood’s promise that, if anything ever happened to him, Wood would look after his wife.
He’d made the promise. Because he’d been protecting his brother, tending to his needs, his entire life. But he’d have asked Elaina to marry him even if he hadn’t told Peter he’d take care of her. She had no real family of her own. No insurance without Peter’s job providing it. The other driver had been underinsured and had no money.
And there was Elaina’s future. They hadn’t even been sure she’d walk again.
She’d put her own career plans on hold to work two full time jobs to put Peter through medical school.
She’d never, ever even pretended to be in love with Wood. Yet he’d given his life over to her. Had been willing to make a real marriage for them.
Because a real marriage was what he wanted?
But not without the kind of love that went with it?
He turned in to the cemetery. So much for tuning out what was bothering him...
“The cemetery?” Cassie asked, sitting forward to peer out around them. “What do you have to show me here?”
He’d gone up the private drive leading to her father’s grave, and she was out of the truck before he’d even turned off the motor. Running toward the bench across from her father’s headstone.
“Oh my gosh, Wood! It’s...” Bending, she ran her fingers over the project he�
��d sanded and varnished the night before. And then she sat, eyes brimming with tears as she looked up at him. “Where did you get this? It’s beautiful! Exquisite, really.” She looked from him to the cherrywood bench. “I can’t believe you did this.”
He let her talk. Smiling in spite of his self-admonition not to make too much out of her gratitude. It was about her vigil with her father, her safe place, not about him.
“Come...” She patted the two-seater bench. “Sit with me.”
Reluctantly, he did as she asked, all the while reminding himself of the boundaries he had to maintain. For so many reasons. And truly enjoyed sitting there with her, even if just for a few seconds.
As he’d purchased wood, measured, cut, hammered and glued, he’d pictured her sitting on the finished product. He hadn’t allowed himself to imagine using the bench with her, though. An occasion where the two of them would visit her father together.
“I just love it, Wood.” She was looking at him, and the emotion in her gaze...it swooped deep inside him. Finding a home there. “I just...” She frowned. “You don’t think they’ll take it away, do you? The cemetery people? I’m technically only allowed to put things on his actual gravesite.”
“I got permission before I brought it over,” he told her. “It’s bolted down, and I wanted to make certain that was okay.” He’d checked other specifications, as well. As a contractor he knew all about permits, property rights and liabilities.
She teared up again but blinked away the moisture before it fell. “I just don’t even know how to thank you, Wood. It had to have cost a fortune. I have no idea where you even found something so perfect.”
He’d expected her to be pleased. But not to sound so beholden. “It wasn’t expensive,” he said quickly before she could read more into the gesture than he’d intended. “I’ve got less than twenty bucks in it,” he continued.
“You found something like this at a garage sale? I can’t believe it. It’s perfect. And looks brand-new. Who would part with a bench of this quality for twenty dollars?”
“I made it, Cassie.” He should’ve just told her from the beginning. Wasn’t sure why he hadn’t. Those hours he’d spent in his workshop, thinking of her, had been private. Between him and the wood with which he’d worked. “Seriously, it’s no big deal. Just a hobby...”
“You made this?” Eyebrows raised, she looked from the bench back up to him. “And you think this is just a hobby? Good Lord, Wood, you could open a shop. Make a fortune. This is...”
He shook his head. “I don’t want to open a shop,” he told her. Elaina had had the same reaction the first time she’d seen his work. Peter had still been alive then, and making a big deal out of Wood’s bedroom set. He’d been proud of Wood’s talent. But he’d also understood that it was a stress relief for his brother. Something he enjoyed. To make it into a business would take away what he got most out of woodworking.
She studied him for a moment, and he turned away, in over his head. For a man used to being completely comfortable in his own skin, he found the current challenge to be somewhat overwhelming. And yet he had no desire to get himself out of it. To the contrary: the more he was with Cassie, the more he wanted to stay.
And not just because of the small bump becoming visible on her silhouette. Not just because of the baby. As his glance had fallen away from hers, it had landed on that bump. He shouldn’t be looking. Shouldn’t be seeing more than was there.
She needed him right then. He fulfilled a need in a very stressful emotional time. Didn’t mean he had enough going for him to hold her longer than the moment.
It wasn’t even right or appropriate for him to be thinking of her that way.
“I’ve known you such a short time, and yet...you’ve become a friend, Wood. In some ways, a close friend.”
He nodded. Glad for that.
“You always seem to know just what I need, or to have a way to make the worry sting less...”
He tuned in, was all. She did, too, not that he was going to tell her that.
“I feel like I’m doing something wrong here,” she continued slowly, looking at him, not at her father’s grave. “You’re doing so much for me, a virtual stranger. Willing to put yourself through medical procedures. Keeping track of the baby’s health. And I... I’m just emotionally overwhelmed, I guess. I’ve loved having you in my life this past week...so much...and I feel like I’m doing something wrong, caring about you like I do.”
She cared about him. Just because they’d shared a tough secret that week. Because he’d helped her get through a hard time in her life when no one else knew she was going through it.
He cared, too. But knew better than to tell her so. Because he didn’t believe it was anything that would last. He would not let her become another Elaina in his life.
He knew the world saw him as lacking. He’d seen the looks on others’ faces when he admitted he’d never graduated from high school. There was no way a guy like him could challenge a woman like Cassie for the long haul.
And yet, it was women like Cassie, smart, strong, hard-working women, who most attracted him. He wasn’t a butt or breast man. It had never been about the looks to him, so much as it had been the person.
He’d expected to show her the bench and then take her home. To talk about the baby some. Maybe hear how her dad would have loved having a grandson. Or a granddaughter, if the results had gone that way.
“Elaina thought I should open a furniture shop, too, to sell the stuff I make,” he told her. As though she’d understand the things he wasn’t saying. “She went on and on about it the first time she was in my workshop. And still mentions it now and then.” Elaina was always wanting him to reach higher. Not for the money, necessarily, but so that he could make a name for himself.
He liked the name he had.
When he finally glanced Cassie’s way, he caught her staring at him.
More explanations battled for expression. He fought back. The more he wanted to tell Cassie, the more he knew he shouldn’t. Because to do so would cross a line he couldn’t afford to cross. He might not fully comprehend it all, but he didn’t doubt his instincts.
“It’s one of the reasons our marriage didn’t work.”
His arms started to itch, like they did when he wanted out of wherever he was.
He didn’t want to leave. Or to take her home and then part.
“Another is that we married in a time of extreme emotion, extreme need, and that didn’t end up translating into romantic love.”
Her mouth hung open.
He’d said too much. Or not enough. He couldn’t tell which. “I’m sorry.”
“I’m not shocked, Wood, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she finally said, facing the grave now, not him. “And I don’t want you to be sorry. I just don’t know what to say.”
Or probably why he’d said what he had to her.
“And since the divorce?” she asked. “Obviously you date.”
He shrugged. Uncomfortable in a new way. “Casually. Elaina gets on me because she says I go for women in need and then get used. But other than with her, I’ve gone in with my eyes open, enjoyed some time and haven’t been hurt when it’s done. I’ve spent my whole life caring for others. It’s what I’m good at. But if that means that, ultimately, I live my life alone, I’m okay with that. It’s nice to be alone sometimes.” To not have to worry about anyone. He didn’t say the words aloud. They made him sound selfish.
And maybe, in some ways, he was.
“Do you ever think about having a family of your own?”
He supposed the question was fair. “I think I’d be a good father.” He’d known how to provide for Peter. How to help his brother over the hurdles of teenage troubles in a way that had strengthened Peter, not weakened him.
“I think you’re a good man, Woodrow Alexander.” Cassie’s voice
had softened. As had the look in her eyes. It was like she was touching him with gentle, featherlight caresses. He wanted to close his eyes and savor the feeling, but he knew that to do so would break the spell.
He closed his eyes, anyway. He had to break away from Cassie or become a man he didn’t want to be, one who wanted what he couldn’t have.
“We should get going,” he told her but didn’t stand immediately.
“I’m not going to fall for you, Wood, and then realize that it was only the emotional upheaval of pregnancy and the scare for my baby’s life that made me feel that way.
“I promise you,” she continued. “I’m aware of the dangers, and I won’t let that happen. I’m only looking for whatever friendship you want to offer. And would be honored to return the same.”
He met her gaze, searching for any sign of weakness in her, and found none.
“I find you incredibly attractive,” he told her.
“I’m attracted to you, too. But I won’t take a chance on you and then, when our world’s right, change my mind.”
He smiled, rubbed her cheek with his thumb. “I can’t take that chance, either. Not with you. I very much want to be your friend, though.”
She smiled then, too. “So...we’re okay?”
He shook his head, frowned. “When weren’t we okay?”
“Are we okay to be in touch? Or is this it? I won’t see you again after today?”
“You want the truth?”
“Of course.”
Feeling as though they’d already bared their souls to each other, he didn’t see much point in holding back now. “I feel a bond with you. And with that child you’re carrying. Any chance I have to be in his life, tomorrow, next week and forever, I will accept with full responsibility and caring.”
“He doesn’t have a father,” Cassie said, then sucked in on her lips, as though biting them.
He waited.
“I can’t make any promises, Wood, but part of the reason I went to the Parent Portal was because I recognize that some people yearn to know where they came from. Look at the huge interest in familial DNA searches these days.” She shook her head, glanced away and then back. “I take full responsibility for this baby, but I won’t ever deny him the chance to know his father. If his father wants to know him.”
Her Motherhood Wish Page 8