by Donna Fasano
A baby. Lord, she wanted a baby so badly she would do just about anything... anything…
But she had to keep her mind on the task of explaining herself to Ben.
Inhaling deeply, she continued, "As I said, I have everything worked out. I'll marry you, thereby fulfilling the terms of John's will. Reed's Orchard will belong to you. And there will be no more threat of the business being sold."
Her gaze lowered to the desk top. "I think we should move in together. That way, making the... baby... will be a little easier."
The intimate images that thought brought to mind made her whole body grow warm with embarrassment. Closing her eyes, she took a few seconds to compose herself before plowing forward. "I suggest I move in with you," she said, her gaze still glued to the blotter on her desk. "Simply because your house is bigger, and it will mean less of an upset for you."
She took a deep breath, and noticing that her hands had begun to shake, she tucked them in her lap.
"As I said before, I'll remain your wife until all the legal aspects of the will are straightened out." She looked at him and tried to smile, but the result felt plastic, fake. "Oh, and while I'm living with you, I do need to become…" her face flamed and she averted her eyes again "…well, you know. The six-month time frame I mentioned before should give us plenty of time to solve both our problems."
"Six months," Ben said, evidently having found his tongue. "What if there are problems?"
"Problems?"
"What if you don't become... well, you know... within the six-month time limit?" he asked. "It's been known to happen."
"I'd be willing to extend the marriage to a year," she said, then quickly added, "in that case."
"Well, what if all those charities that stand to benefit from the sale of Reed's Orchard see this marriage as just what it is?" Ben propped one ankle on his other knee. "A desperate attempt on my part to keep my business. What if they band together, hire a bunch of lawyers and sue? The case could have a life span of…" he exhaled derisively "…years." His gaze locked with hers. "What then?"
She couldn't read the message behind his words. Was he mocking her? Making fun of her offer? Or simply stating an honest fear? She couldn't tell.
"The clause in your grandfather's will didn't stipulate that you had to marry for love." She was helpless against the sarcastic tone in which she'd stated the final word of her comment. "It's no one's business why we're getting married."
Chelsea straightened in her seat. "Anyway, maybe you're looking for trouble where no trouble exists. I really don't feel there will be any questions asked. Why should there be when you're fulfilling the stipulation?"
She rubbed her hands over the soft, worn fabric of her jeans. "There are other more important aspects of this that I think you should question, Ben. Such as your obligation to this baby as its father. And... the inheritance angle."
Watching his eyebrows jump, she knew she'd gotten his attention.
"Don't worry," she assured him quietly. "I've thought it all out. I don't expect anything from you, Ben. Well," she stumbled over her next thought, "except for the initial... act of... well... you know." She felt her cheeks flood with color and hated herself for the reaction. "What I mean is, you'll father this baby but… you won't be its father. In fact, if everything goes as I've planned, I won't even be here when the baby is born."
"What do you mean?" he asked. "Where will you be?"
"I've lived extremely frugally over the years. I've some money saved. Enough to set me and the baby up somewhere else."
"So, you'll be leaving town?"
She licked her lips. "Certainly not until I know for sure that your ownership of the orchard is no longer in question. I promise you that much."
Chelsea had meant for the statement to be an assurance, but Ben didn't look the least assured.
"And what about 'the inheritance angle,' as you so casually put it?" he asked.
"I don't want anything that belongs to you. I'll sign anything your lawyer draws up." She swallowed. "But I'll have to ask that you do the same."
"Oh?"
"Yes." She emphasized the tiny word with firm nod. "I'll want you to sign over all parental rights."
Chelsea felt pierced by those sharp green eyes as they narrowed on her. She tolerated his stare for as long as she could before dipping her head.
Why was he dragging his feet? she wondered. What was his hesitation? You'd think she was asking for the world. Chelsea's stomach tightened painfully as she discovered she was asking for the world. Her world. And she wouldn't give up easily.
She looked him directly in the eye. "Ben, I'm not trying to trap you. I'm only trying to offer you a deal. You'll have your orchard and I'll have my baby."
The last few words sounded strangled with suppressed emotion, and Chelsea clamped her lips together when she saw him frown.
You've spoiled everything, she silently railed at herself. She knew very well that when she showed emotion… and she'd certainly raised the curtain on her desperation just now… that the only consequence was hurt and humiliation for her.
"You certainly have planned this well," he observed, his tone bordering somewhere between anger and sarcasm.
"Look, Ben," she said coolly. "I'm only offering you a solution to your problem. You can't fault me for wanting something for my trouble."
"Something for your trouble? I can't believe some of the things you're saying." He stood up, paced to the door and turned back to face her. "We're talking about a child here, Chelsea. We're talking about a human life. We're not swapping baseball cards."
Chelsea swallowed around the nervous tension constricting her throat. "I know what we're talking about. Don't you think I've thought long and hard about this?" Her tongue darted out to moisten her dry lips again. "I know exactly what I'm asking. Why do you think it's taken me nearly two weeks to ask? The question is, do you want to keep Reed's Orchard or not? Do you want this deal or not?"
His strong tanned hands clasped the back of the chair he'd been sitting in. When he finally spoke, his voice revealed the terrific amount of bewilderment he was evidently feeling.
"I really don't understand this. Chelsea, you're a young woman. You can't be more than twenty-five or twenty-six…"
"Twenty-eight," she corrected him. "Nevertheless, you're still a young woman," he said. "You'll be meeting a man before too long. You'll fall in love. You'll want to marry him and have his children. Why are you…"
"It's not necessary that you understand," she interrupted, erasing all emotion from her voice. Explaining herself to him was the last thing she wanted to do. She found the very idea utterly mortifying. "All you need to know is that I won't be getting married. I won't be having anyone else's children. Trust me on that."
Ben looked taken aback by the cool formality of her words. But she didn't have it in her to worry about how he might or might not feel, or what he might be thinking of her. She had to keep her eye on the prize. That's all that mattered.
"I do believe you," he said, seemingly caught in a moment of involuntary candor. Then he quietly added, "I don't believe there's a man alive who could melt your icy heart."
Her chin tipped upward, her mouth tightened, and she fought the urge to lash out at him. His opinion of her cut, bone deep, but she refused to let him see that.
"You're absolutely right," she told him. "Now, do we have a deal or not?"
Ben's fingers dug into the soft leather of the chair's back. "It doesn't look as though I have a choice."
~ ~ ~
Chelsea let herself into the nature center and headed toward the back room where the caged animals were housed. The building had once been a large, rambling barn that had been converted into several spacious rooms used to inform the public about the area's wildlife and environment.
She stopped at the first metal cage she came to. "Hello there," she said, her tone quiet, calming.
The shy squirrel skittered behind the tree limb, its tiny nose wiggling furiously as
it sniffed the air. The animal had been brought in three days ago. Mauled by a dog, there wasn't much left of the squirrel's bushy tail, but its hind leg looked as though it was mending well. Soon, it would be taken into the woods surrounding the center and released.
Moving slowly so as not to frighten the animal, Chelsea removed the glass water bottle from the side of the cage. She pulled out the rubber stopper, refilled it at the sink and recapped it. She hung the bottle of fresh water back on the cage, so the metal tube was sticking through the bars where the squirrel could reach it.
She unlatched the door to the cage and filled the small plastic feeding dish with a scoop of animal feed, a mixture of nutritious bits mixed with nuts and dried berries.
Chelsea had discovered the center several years ago. She'd found walking the nature paths to be peaceful; the fresh air and tranquility of the woods had quickly become an addiction for her.
Offering a few hours of volunteer work at the center had been a natural progression. At first she'd picked up litter from the grounds or swept the floor of the center on weekends. Slowly, she'd gained the trust of the nature center's manager, and eventually Chelsea worked her way up to caring for the wounded animals that were invariably brought to the center wrapped in towels or dropped off outside the door in shoe boxes.
Most of the animals cared for at the shelter were unfortunate victims of fast-moving traffic. Then there were critters, like the squirrel, that had gotten themselves into some other kind of trouble. The actual medical care was performed by a veterinarian who donated his time on an "as needed" basis.
The hours she spent volunteering at the center were a joy for Chelsea. The animals she tended helped fill the emotional void inside her. The helpless creatures she fed and watered gave her an outlet for the love, kindness and caring she guarded so fiercely when it came to humans.
It was safe for her to pour all the compassion she felt into caring for the birds, chipmunks, raccoons, squirrels and other forest wildlife. It was safe because Chelsea knew from day one that there would come a time when each animal would be set free. She realized up front that each relationship was short-term, and that one day the animal would scamper off into the underbrush, never to be seen again.
Never to be seen again. The words brought an image to her mind. A sharp, painful image from the past.
"Mama Higgins," she whispered, her voice throaty with sudden raw emotion. Tears welled and burned behind her lids, but she dashed the back of her hand across her eyes, refusing to allow them to fall. Chelsea forcibly shoved the thought from her mind, inhaled deeply and cleared her throat.
But what had pulled that distant memory to the surface of her brain? She strongly suspected it was because she'd made herself vulnerable to Ben. Disclosing to him her desire to have a baby had caused a crack in the wall she'd painstakingly built around her emotions; a crack that had obviously widened enough to let out the painful memory of the woman from her past.
Don't let the memories escape, she commanded silently. Just push them down deep, and bury them there.
A beautiful blue jay perched in the next cage, its tail feathers slightly tattered. As Chelsea worked to install a small seed-covered suet ball in the cage, the bird never stirred, so exhausted by its earlier ordeal.
Chelsea stroked the bird's tiny head. From the note near the cage, she learned that the jay had flown into the picture window of a house near the nature center.
"Poor thing," she crooned. "How were you to know the window was covered with a pane of glass?"
The birds were the hardest for her to part with. The center kept numerous bird feeders filled all through the year. She often wondered if any of the winged creatures that came to feed were the ones she'd previously cared for and had come to love. But she never dwelled on the thought, because she always reminded herself that she had known from the first that the animals she tended didn't belong to her. That was the rule. They would be returned to the wild as soon as they had healed.
That was the same way she must view this temporary relationship with Ben. Once they spoke the vows of marriage, she'd be his wife… for a while.
It was going to be imperative for her to be on her guard at all times. She couldn't afford to become involved with Ben on any kind of emotional level. She knew so well what would happen if she did. Heart wrenching pain. Humiliation. Unbearable sorrow. It had happened so often in her younger years. She wouldn't let it happen again. She couldn't. For if it did, she seriously doubted that she would survive.
Without thinking, Chelsea rubbed the flat of her palm across her taut lower abdomen. She would become Ben's wife, and she would sleep with him… no matter how difficult or embarrassing that might turn out to be. Because doing so would bring her a baby.
A baby on whom she could pour every ounce of love she felt. A baby who would love her unconditionally. A baby unable to inflict hurt. A baby she could care for and love and never, ever, ever abandon…
Chelsea gasped and abolished the thought… a thought that came too close to completely demolishing the wall that held back her horrible memories. She shook her head.
Her emotions were in such turmoil. First, Mama Higgins had come to mind, and now she'd remembered that other woman, the hated, despicable one who had caused her such pain. It had been many long months since those memories had plagued her.
It had to be this tense situation with Ben that was causing these awful recollections. Her offer to marry him, for a price, had shaken her more than she'd first imagined.
Their drive into Elkton in order to register for a marriage license had been a trip fraught with awkwardness and emotions that she'd had to take great pains to hide.
Oh, it had all seemed superficial enough. The two of them had shared mundane conversation about the beautiful limestone carving on the facade of the old courthouse, several ducks taking flight above marsh reeds, a fat trout jumping out of the water. Ben had explained to her how the carving was supposed to have been an exact replica of the county seal, but the artist had added the fish without consulting the town's officials.
The two of them had chuckled together about how nervous the other registering couples looked. Ben had breezily commented how the two of them needn't feel the least bit nervous. But despite Ben's attempts to trivialize the motions they were going through, registering for their marriage license only seemed to emphasize the fact that he was nervous. Terribly nervous. And although she hadn't meant to, she'd found herself empathizing with him.
Then doubt had planted itself between his brows in a deep frown and Chelsea had begun to wonder things… what he was thinking, was he reconsidering the terms of their deal, was he going to back out at the last minute, how handsome he is…
The last thought had stunned her. Why the heck had she noticed his looks? It had nothing to do with their bargain.
Yes, she'd discovered that Ben evoked responses in her that were surprising. But that was okay, as long as she could hide those responses. As long as she showed him no emotion. As long as she didn't come to care. That would only result in her becoming vulnerable, and vulnerability was her dreaded enemy.
If she simply controlled herself, if she kept a cool reserve wrapped around her like a cloak of safety, she'd be fine. She could do this.
~ ~ ~
Ben maneuvered his truck slowly along the narrow, curving country road. Every morning he picked up his aunt and drove her to Reed's Orchard Country Store where she sold the fruits and vegetables that he grew. Every evening he drove her home.
"Why are you so quiet tonight?" May asked.
"No reason," he answered automatically. Then, he couldn't help chuckling. "Do you realize what's happened to me today?"
"Sure do." May shifted in the seat, seeming to grow two inches taller. "We're getting married."
"I'm getting married." He ran his fingers through his hair as he'd already done dozens of times today in his quest to figure out this curious situation he found himself in. "I can hardly believe it."
; "I can hardly believe Chelsea offered." May cut her eyes at her nephew. "But, then again, she won't be walking away empty-handed."
"No," Ben said quietly. "She won't."
"Oooo-whee. You've not only saved the orchard, but you'll be making love to a beautiful woman."
"Aunt May." Ben's tone held a warning.
"You can't tell me you don't think she's beautiful," she said. "Those big brown doe eyes would melt any man's heart."
"I'm not in this to have my heart melted. And we are not going to be making love. Two people have to be in love to make love."
"That's what some fools believe." May snorted. "So you intend to use a turkey baster?"
"Aunt May!"
"What? It was a serious question! You going to do it natural like? Or are you going to go for that artificial insimulation?"
Ben groaned as he turned onto the gravel driveway that flanked May's one-story brick ranch house. "The word is 'insemination' and for your information Chelsea and I haven't discussed the details of how we're going to go about it. So will you just drop it? Please?"
May patted Ben on the arm. "Don't fret so. Everything will work out just fine. You'll see. People have been making babies since the dawn of time." Once the truck came to a halt, she got out and slammed the door. Leaning in through the passenger side window, she grinningly added, "And who knows? You might even enjoy yourself."
She cackled mischievously and started off toward her front door.
Ben watched, shaking his head at her remark, until his aunt was inside. As he drove toward home, he tried to focus on Aunt May's assurance that everything would work out fine. He hoped she was right about that. But her other prediction was dead wrong. He was certain he wouldn't enjoy himself.
Chapter Three
"We are gathered here…''
Chelsea watched the clerk's lips as they formed the words of the wedding ceremony, but no sound seemed to emanate from them. All she could hear was the fierce pounding of her heart and the whoosh of blood rushing through her ears.