The Rags-To-Riches Wife

by Metsy Hingle

  She opened her eyes and stared up at him. Within moments, the lazy slumber dissipated and the wariness was back. She straightened. “I’m sorry. I must have dozed off. I seem to be doing a lot of that lately,” she said.

  She did look tired, he realized, and there were faint shadows under her eyes. Suddenly concerned about her and the baby, he began spitting out questions. “Have you told the doctor? What does he say? Is it normal?”

  “Yes, I’ve told the doctor. Andshe says it’s perfectly normal.”

  Realizing that he sounded like some panicked idiot instead of a grown man, Jack sat down in the wingback chair across from her. He released a breath and looked over into her worried eyes. “Sorry about that. This has all been a surprise for me.”

  “I understand. I was the same way at first, panicking over everything. But I’ve had a while to get used to it.”

  “Too bad I can’t say the same thing,” he replied, angered anew that she’d kept the pregnancy a secret from him. “Why didn’t you tell me about the baby? Didn’t you think I had a right to know that I was going to be a father?”

  “Of course you do. And I was going to tell you.”

  “When? When the baby was graduating from college?”

  “I wanted to tell you,” she insisted and he didn’t miss the way she was plucking at the sleeve of the jacket she wore.

  “Then why didn’t you?”

  “Because I didn’t know how,” she fired back.

  “The simple truth would have worked just fine. All you had to do was say that the night we slept together resulted in a child.”

  “You’re right, and I apologize,” she said, her voice softer, her expression calmer. She tilted her chin up, straightened her shoulders. “I should have told you. And now that you do know, you should also know that I intend to keep the baby.”

  It had never crossed his mind that she wouldn’t, Jack realized. He also realized that she could just as easily have placed the child up for adoption, and if she’d listed the father as unknown, he would never even have known he had a child.

  “But just because I’m keeping the baby doesn’t mean I expect anything from you. I don’t. I made the decision on my own and I plan to accept full responsibility. So you don’t have to worry that I’ll make any demands.”

  “That was a nice little speech, Lily. Tell me, how long have you been practicing it?” he asked and surprised himself that he managed to sound so calm when inside he was furious.

  “I…A while,” she finally said.

  Leaning forward, he made sure his eyes were level with hers, and he said, “Whether or not you expect anything from me is irrelevant. I’m that baby’s father and as its father, I not only intend to take financial responsibility for him or her, I also intend to be a part of the child’s life.”

  “I see,” was all she said.

  It was apparent that he’d thrown her for a loop. But had she really expected him simply to walk away from his responsibility to the baby? To her?

  “I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out with visitation,” she offered. “Lots of families do it. Of course, we’ll have to wait until the baby’s older. Then we can set up a schedule where we swap holidays and extra time in the summers.”

  “I don’t think you understand what I’m saying, Lily. I intend to be a part of this child’s life from day one—not four or five years down the line.”

  “But surely you realize a baby needs to be with its mother,” she insisted and he could hear the thread of alarm in her voice.

  “It needs its father, too. I have no intention of being a part-time father, one of those men who has visitation every other weekend and alternates holidays. I want to be a part of it all—the late-night feedings, the first steps. Everything.”

  Lily pushed to her feet. “I won’t let you take my baby from me,” she told him, her voice firm, defiance in her eyes. “I don’t care who your family is or how much money you have, I’ll fight you. I’ll fight you with every breath in me before I let you take my baby.”

  “It’sour baby, Lily. Our baby.”

  She folded her arms protectively over her abdomen. But her eyes never wavered as she spat out, “I mean it, Jack. I’ll fight you every step of the way. I won’t let you take the baby from me.”

  Standing, he walked over to her. He had a good six inches on her and knew he could be intimidating. Hadn’t he been told time and again that his strong physical presence was as big an asset in the courtroom as was his skill as a lawyer? But if she was intimidated, Lily didn’t show it. She held her ground, stood with him toe-to-toe. With her claws drawn and her eyes sparking fire, she reminded him of a cornered mama cat, fighting to protect her kitten. And he couldn’t help but admire her for it. “Do you really think I’m such a heartless monster? That I would take our baby from its mother?” he asked.

  She eyed him warily. “But you said you wanted to be there for everything.”

  “And I do,” he said and touched her cheek. “A baby needs a mother and a father.”

  “I don’t understand. The baby can’t be with both of us all the time.”

  “Sure it can. All we have to do is get married.”

  Three

  “You can’t be serious,” Lily told Jack, unable to believe the man had actually suggested that they marry.

  “I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.”

  “Then you’re either crazy or you’re a fool,” she said and moved away from him. She retreated behind her desk, wanting the sense of normalcy and control that it represented.

  “Why? Because I want to give our baby a real home with both of its parents? It sounds pretty reasonable to me.”

  “But we don’t know anything about each other.”

  He walked over to the desk and took the seat directly across from her. “That’s easily fixed. Ask away. What do you want to know about me?”

  “Jack…”

  “All right, I’ll start. My full name is John Ryan Cartwright, IV, but I’ve been called Jack since I was in diapers. I’m single, never been married. My parents are Sandra and John Cartwright. I have two sisters, Courtney and Elizabeth. My Cartwright ancestors were English Puritans from Massachusetts who were among the first settlers in the state. On my mother’s side my claim to fame is Nathan Hale as an ancestor,” he said.

  “Jack, this isn’t necessary,” she informed him, because just listening to him drove home how truly unsuitable they were. She didn’t belong in his world, never would.

  “Itis necessary because we’ve created a child together, a child who’s going to need both of its parents. If the only way to achieve that is by the two of us learning about each other, then I want you to know everything there is to know about me.”

  Seeing the determined look on his face, Lily didn’t waste her breath trying to reason with him. Once he was finished, she would try to make him see that marriage was not a viable option.

  “Now let’s see, where was I? You already know that I’m a lawyer with the firm of Cartwright and Associates which was founded by my great-great-great grandfather. I became the firm’s managing partner last year when my father retired. I serve on the board of Eastwick Cares. I also serve on the boards of two other nonprofit agencies because I believe one person can make a difference and that by giving back to the community we make that difference. I own my home and have a boat that I like to take out on Long Island Sound whenever I get the chance. I gross roughly $250,000 a year from my law practice and have a stock portfolio that produces another six figures. My favorite food is spaghetti. My favorite dessert is bananas Foster.” Rising, he came around the desk to where she stood. He brushed his knuckles along her cheek. “And I have a real weakness for redheads with skin like silk.”

  Lily closed her eyes a moment and, just as she had done that night in December, felt herself grow weak at his touch.

  “Marry me, Lily. Make a home with me for our baby.”

  He made it sound so simple. Get married
, raise their baby together.

  “Itis that simple,” he told her.

  Only then did Lily realize she’d spoken aloud. Needing to break the hypnotic pull he seemed to have on her, she stepped back and crossed her arms. “You’re wrong. It isn’t simple,” she insisted. And she couldn’t afford to make the mistake of believing it was. She’d done that far too often growing up. She wouldn’t do it now. Not when she had her baby’s happiness at stake.

  “Why not?”

  “Because we come from entirely different worlds.”

  “If you’re talking about the money—”

  “I’m not,” she said. “But it is a factor. For starters, I don’t own my home. I live in a rental apartment. My annual salary is substantially less than yours. I have a modest savings account and a small IRA account, but no stock portfolio. I have a five-year-old car and a bike, but no boat.”

  “Those are material things. They’re not important.”

  “It’s not just the monetary differences, Jack. You have ancestors you can trace back for generations. You have parents, sisters, a family. You know who you are, where you came from,” she said, trying to explain. “Do you know how far back I can trace my ancestors? Twenty-seven years ago—to me. I do know that my name is Lily because that’s what the note pinned on my blanket said and there’s an L engraved on this locket that I was wearing,” she said, lifting the gold locket. “As for the name Miller, it was the name of the street where the church I was left in was located.”

  “Lily, I’m sorry—”

  “Don’t be,” she said and turned away, not wanting to see pity in his eyes, not wanting him to see the tears threatening in hers. “Surely you can see now that the idea of us marrying, even if it is for the baby’s sake, is ridiculous.”

  “Why? Because you don’t have some pedigree? Do you really think that I’m that shallow? That I would judge you on the basis of something as inconsequential as where you were born and who your parents were?”

  “I’d hardly call not knowing who you are or where you came from inconsequential. For all we know, I could be the daughter of an ax murderer.”

  “Or the daughter of a king,” he countered.

  But kings didn’t leave their babies. And wealthy, handsome men from prestigious families didn’t marry orphans who not even their mothers had wanted.

  She felt him come up behind her. “So maybe I don’t know where you were born or who your family is, but you know what I do know?” He rested his hands upon her shoulders. “I know that you’re kind and caring. I know that as a counselor, you’ve made a difference in the lives of dozens and dozens of kids. I know that because of you a lot of the kids who’ve come through that door have a chance to make it, because counseling them isn’t just a job to you. You care about them.”

  Since she’d become pregnant, her emotions had been on a roller coaster. Tears which she’d seldom shed even at the darkest times in her life were now always just a look or a word away.

  “I also know that while you may not have planned this baby, you already love it and that you’ll do what’s right for it.” He turned her to face him, tipped her chin up with his fingertip. “And the right thing is for us to get married. To provide a real home and family for our baby.”

  “But we can do that without getting married,” she insisted.

  “How? By shuffling him or her from your apartment to my house? What kind of life is that for a child? What our baby needs is security, Lily—and I don’t mean just financially. Our baby needs a real family and a real home with both parents there to tuck him in at night, to have both of us there when she wakes up from a bad dream. Don’t you want our baby to have those things?”

  “Of course I do,” she told him. Being part of a real family had been the one thing she’d wanted all of her life. It had been what she’d put on her list for Santa. It had been what she’d wished for each time she’d blown out the candles on a birthday cake. And it had been the one thing she had never had. That she still didn’t have.

  “We can never give our baby those things as single parents.”

  She knew he was right. Yet a part of her couldn’t help but feel disappointed. “What about love?” she asked and lowered her gaze. The one thing she had always believed was that when she did marry, it would be to someone she loved and who loved her in return. “Marriage is more than sharing a house with someone. What chance would a marriage between us have when we don’t love one another?”

  “Who says we need to love one another? We like and respect each other. We’re going to share a child. And we already know that we’re sexually compatible. There are a lot of very successful marriages that are based on a great deal less.”

  Lily jerked her eyes upward. She had been so focused on what a marriage between them would mean to their baby that she hadn’t considered what it would mean to her, to him. “You mean you would want this to be a real marriage?”

  He smiled at her and Lily felt that fluttering in her stomach just as she had that night at the ball when he had looked at her the first time. “I don’t see why it shouldn’t be. I intend to honor our vows and would expect you to do the same. Since I don’t think either of us plans to lead a life of celibacy, it only makes sense that we would share a bed.”

  “I guess you’re right,” she said because everything he said made sense.

  “I am. You’ll see.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I think the sooner we get married the better.”

  A wave of panic hit her. “But what about your family, your friends? What will they think? What will people say?”

  “They’ll think I’m a lucky guy,” he assured her.

  Or maybe they would think he’d lost his mind. Perhaps they both had because she was going to marry Jack Cartwright. She only hoped neither of them lived to regret it.

  She was as skittish as a colt, Jack thought as he looked across the seat of his car to Lily. Her hands were clenched, her body stiff and she’d had him stop twice during the thirty-minute drive for bathroom breaks. She’d claimed it was a hazard of being pregnant, but he suspected a big part of it was nerves.

  Not that he could blame her. He had surprised himself when he’d blurted out that they should get married. But within minutes of doing so, he’d realized it was the right thing to do. He’d known right away that Lily had way too much pride to allow him to take care of her and the baby financially. So he hadn’t even bothered suggesting it. Besides he had meant what he said—a kid really did need both parents. And while he might not have planned on becoming a father in quite this way, now that it was happening, he wanted to be a real father in every way. That meant providing his child with the same love and security he’d known as a child. And the only way to do that was for him and Lily to become man and wife.

  Once he’d made that decision, he had approached her objections as he did an opponent in the courtroom. One by one he had shot those objections down. He hadn’t exactly played fair, he admitted. When she’d told him about her family—or lack thereof—he could only imagine how painful and lonely it must have been for her growing up. So he had used her own feelings about family against her and gotten her to agree to marry him. And before she could change her mind, he’d set things into motion—first by hustling her to the courthouse the next day to get a marriage license and now by taking her to meet his parents.

  Jack thought about the ring in his pocket. She’d claimed she didn’t need an engagement ring when he’d suggested they shop for one. He’d never seen her wear anything except the gold locket. And while it was possible she was one of those rare women who didn’t covet jewelry, after checking into her background he suspected few people had thought to give Lily shiny baubles. He also doubted that she would consider jewelry as one of the basic necessities in life. He wanted her to have the ring. He’d even planned to give it to her when he’d arrived at her apartment to pick her up for the trip to his parents’ home. But one look at her and he could see she was a bundle of nerves. So
he’d decided to wait.

  “Are you sure I’m dressed okay?” she asked.

  “You look beautiful,” he assured her. It was true. The silky skirt skimmed her still-trim hips and gave him a glimpse of those killer legs. The apricot-colored sweater top gently curved over her breasts and the large-grapefruit-sized bump in her belly. Were it not for that bulge, he would never have known she was pregnant.

  “Is it much farther?” she asked.