The Baby Miracle

by Rayner, Holly

  He turns back to face me. “What’s wrong?”

  “You can’t swim out to that boat.” I’m shaking. “What if something happens?”

  “What could happen?”

  “What if the boat leaves while you’re only halfway out to it?”

  “Then I’ll turn around and come back,” he says.

  “What if the tide washes you off course and you can’t get to the yacht?”

  “That won’t happen,” he says. “The water is calm here, look.”

  “What if—” I’m running out of ideas. “What if there are sharks in the water?” I ask finally, desperately.

  “Kendall.”

  “There could be.”

  “Look how clear this water is. If there was a shark, we would see it.”

  “But they swim faster than people,” I argue. “One could come up on you.”

  “What’s this really about?” Chase asks. “I know you’re not actually afraid I’m going to be eaten by a shark.”

  He’s right. That’s not really what I’m afraid of. But I’m not sure I have the courage to admit my true fears to him. I’m afraid of seeming weak. I’m afraid he’ll think I’m foolish.

  But that’s not what I’m most afraid of.

  “I don’t want to be alone here,” I whisper. “What if you go back to the yacht and you forget me too? I can’t make that swim. I’d be stranded here all by myself.”

  “Kendall, I’m not going to forget you…” He comes up the beach and sits beside me. “You can’t really think I’d just abandon you here.”

  “You left me before.”

  “I left you in an all-expenses-paid hotel room in your hometown. Not on a deserted island.”

  “I know.” I sob. “I know that’s not fair. I’m sorry. I know it isn’t the same. I don’t really think you would leave me.”

  “Then what is it?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t want to be alone here. If you left, I would feel like you might not come back. And I’m scared.”

  He hesitates for a long moment, regarding me. Then, carefully, he reaches out and wraps an arm around my shoulders.

  I melt into him. I’m surprised by my own willingness to accept this embrace, but I can’t deny that there’s comfort here. Being close to Chase feels familiar and safe, and it’s exactly what I need while I’m so afraid. Sensing my acceptance of his closeness, he tightens his hold, pulling me into his chest and wrapping his other arm around me too.

  “It’s all right,” he says quietly. “I won’t go.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise. We’ll stay together.”

  “Are you angry?” I ask. Have I ruined our best shot at being rescued? If we’re stuck here now, will it be my fault?

  “No,” he says. “You’re right. We should stick together. I’d probably be able to make that swim, but there’s no way to know for sure, and you shouldn’t be stuck here wondering. That’s too much to ask.”

  “I don’t want you to get hurt,” I say, and I’m surprised to realize how strongly averse I am to that prospect. “I don’t want you to get eaten by a shark.”

  Chase chuckles a little, and I manage a smile too.

  We sit together quietly as the sun sinks lower and lower. The air fills with the sound of singing insects, somewhere in the woods behind us, and the hush of waves lapping against the shore. Chase rubs a big hand in slow circles on my back, idly helping me keep my calm.

  We both stare out at Amir’s yacht, so close and yet so far away. So far it’s showed no signs of moving, but that could change at any time. And if the sun gets much lower in the sky, we aren’t going to be able to see the yacht at all.

  “We’ll be okay,” he says.

  “You don’t know that,” I say. “You can’t. Without Amir, there’s no way for us to get off this island.”

  The wind gusts and I shiver. Chase pulls me tighter against him.

  “I should have let you swim out to the boat,” I say miserably. “I should have at least let you try.”

  “No. You were right,” he says. “I wouldn’t have been there by now, and look how dark it’s gotten. I’m glad you stopped me. It would be bad if I were out in the sea right now.”

  I nod, recognizing the wisdom in his words. The surf sounds gentle enough, but I know the undertow can be vicious at the best of times, and in this dark it would be hard for Chase to tell if he were being pulled off course. The yacht, so visible an hour ago, has become a mere shadow on the horizon.

  “Don’t be afraid,” Chase says.

  “I’m trying,” I say. But how am I supposed to set aside my fear? This is a terrible situation. And I have a child I’m thinking of.

  “Do you trust me?” Chase asks.

  I don’t answer that. I don’t have any idea what I would say.

  Chase sighs. “Of course you don’t,” he says. “There’s no reason why you should. But can you trust me this once, when I promise you that I will take care of you? I won’t let anything happen to you. On my honor.”

  I want to believe that. But…

  “What about the baby?” I breathe.

  “The baby too,” Chase says. “Listen, as long as we’re out here, you’re a priority. I’ll go find a coconut or something, so you’ll be able to stay hydrated, and we’ll figure out a way back to Tala as soon as we can.”

  I’m a priority.

  “Does this mean you believe me?” I ask him. “You believe that I’m telling the truth and that the baby is yours?”

  He hesitates, his eyes searching mine. My heart rate accelerates. He’s not saying no. Every other time I’ve asked him this question he’s told me no, that it can’t be, that I must be wrong or lying. He’s gotten angry or distant. But this time…this time he’s looking at me. He’s really listening to me.

  Before he can respond, though, we’re interrupted by a sputtering off in the distance.

  At first I don’t want to break eye contact with him—what if spoiling the moment ruins this new attitude he seems to have? But the noise is drawing closer, and despite myself, I turn to look.

  Off in the distance, a grayish shape is moving. It seems to be getting larger.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  Chase squints toward it too. Then he leaps to his feet. “Kendall! It’s the launch!”

  I can’t quite believe it. I’d half resigned myself to a night spent on this beach, huddled in Chase’s arms and trying to survive until morning. And now the boat is coming to return us to the yacht, to take us back to Tala. We’re saved. There’s no danger after all.

  So why do I feel strangely disappointed?

  Chase runs down the beach to help Amir bring the launch ashore. In the dim light, I can see that Amir looks rattled. He climbs out of the boat and hurries over to me.

  “I’m so sorry, Kendall,” he says. “I thought my attendant would realize, when three of us left for the island and only I came back, that he would need to make a pickup. I never dreamed he hadn’t done it.”

  “Didn’t you notice we were missing when you got off the phone?” Chase doesn’t seem in a hurry to forgive.

  “I noticed, of course I did! But I assumed you had gone to the upper deck for some privacy. You are newlyweds, after all.” Amir attempts a smile.

  “We aren’t newlyweds.” Chase rubs his temples. He looks exhausted. “She isn’t my wife. We’re just friends.”

  Amir looks flabbergasted. “Why did you tell me you were married?”

  “I didn’t tell you anything. You assumed. Remember?”

  Amir thinks back. “Maybe I did,” he says. “Well, I’m sorry. And I’m sorry I left you out here, Chase.”

  “Apologize to Kendall. She’s pregnant. You scared her.”

  Amir turns to me. “I’m sorry,” he says humbly. “Really.”

  “Apology accepted,” I tell him, feeling strangely awkward. “Things happen. I hope everything went okay with your phone call.”

  “V
ery well, thank you. I was able to close a deal—”

  “Do you think we could talk about this back on the yacht?” Chase interrupts. “It’s getting very late, and I’d like to get back to our hotel, if you don’t mind.” He strides past the two of us and down to the launch.

  Amir watches him go. “He’s angry.”

  “He’s…” What can I say? “Yes.”

  “I really am sorry,” Amir says. “I only meant to show the two of you a good time.”

  “I know,” I say. “Let’s just head back before we lose the light completely.”

  He nods. “That’s a good idea.”

  The return trip is quiet. Chase sits in the front of the launch this time. I get the feeling he’s putting as much distance as possible between himself and Amir, who’s in the back manning the motor.

  Once we get back to the yacht, Chase disappears up to the highest deck. I sense he wants some time alone with his thoughts, but I don’t want to be left alone to talk to Amir, so I move to the middle deck. A bartender there is able to make me a peach smoothie, and I recline on a white chaise and sip it, pondering the events of the afternoon as we make our way back to Tala.

  It doesn’t take long to reach the island. Chase descends and thanks Amir stiffly for the afternoon. Amir still looks upset and guilty, so I try to make my own thanks more sincere.

  “It was great to see your yacht,” I say. “I’ve never been on one before.”

  He brightens at that. “Really? Never?”

  “Well, I live in Chicago,” I say. “Nowhere near the ocean.”

  Amir nods. “I’m glad you could join us today. Good luck with the baby.”

  “Thanks,” I say. If only he knew.

  I find Chase in the lobby of the resort, standing near the reception desk. He beckons me over when he sees me come in.

  “Are you all right?” he asks.

  “I’m fine.”

  In truth, I’m a little embarrassed about my breakdown on the island. But at least the ordeal is over. It’s a relief to be back here in the processed air and artificial lighting. I’m already thinking about the soft pillows and comforter on my bed upstairs. But first, a nice hot bath…

  Chase gestures toward the reception desk. “I just finished putting your room on my credit card,” he says.

  “Chase, no, you don’t have to do that—”

  “It’s my fault you were out on that island all day. You would never have gone out on Amir’s yacht if I hadn’t pressured you into it. Let me do this.”

  He’s right. “Okay.”

  He looks at me for a long moment, and I get the feeling he wants to say something more, but then he turns and heads off to the elevators, leaving me behind.

  Chapter 17

  Chase

  I barely sleep a wink all night.

  Every time my eyes close, Kendall’s face swims up before me. First hurt and betrayed, the way she looked when I accused her of lying about the baby. Then angry, as she started to fight back. And finally terrified, breaking down, afraid of being stuck on that island all night. That island I basically forced her to accompany me to.

  I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know what’s right. Being around Kendall again has opened up all the same things I felt when I was with her before. I feel confident again. I feel like I have worth. It’s been so long since I felt that way that it’s like drawing my first breath of air.

  And I can’t ignore the other feelings she inspires in me, either. The lustful ones. It’s honestly hard to be around her, knowing that I can’t touch her. The chemistry between us is as strong as it ever was, as if not a day has gone by since the last time we saw each other. If things were different, I think, if everything in my life was different…

  But there’s no point in thinking like that. Everything in my life isn’t different. I’m still the same man who hooked up with Kendall in Iowa and left her before she woke up. There’s no way she’d go to bed with me again after that. And she’s still the woman who flew me to Tala under false pretenses and is now claiming to be carrying my baby, even after I’ve told her that’s not possible. Whether she’s lying or just innocently mistaken, that makes the situation far too complicated for me to allow myself to get involved with her again.

  And then there’s the other matter. My infertility.

  A one-night fling was one thing. It was simple, with no commitments and no need to worry about disappointing each other in the future. But if I were to return to Kendall, even just to try to get to know her better, I’d be asking for trouble. My feelings for her would keep coming up, and there’s a pretty serious chance that we’d eventually find ourselves in bed together again. And each time we came together, the next time would be increasingly likely.

  Which would mean that eventually she would leave, just like Ashley left.

  I can’t go through it all again. I can’t.

  Finally, with the sun angling through my window, I get out of bed and dress in jeans and a V-neck. The resort’s breakfast spread is usually magnificent, but I’m not sure I’m in the mood to sit in a dining room full of people. Maybe I’ll fix a plate and bring it back up here to eat.

  The lobby is still empty when I get downstairs. I can see the staff setting up breakfast in the restaurant, but it’s so early that no one has come down yet. Perfect. I’m about to head in and take advantage of the omelet station when I happen to glance to my left, toward the veranda that overlooks the sea.

  And there she is.

  She’s standing in profile to me, looking off to one side. Her hair hangs loose around her shoulders, blowing in the sea breeze. She’s dressed in a simple white sundress that hangs to her ankles, and her hands are resting on the swell of her stomach. Suddenly I realize that I’m not the only one who’s come a long way for this meeting. Kendall’s pregnant, and she’s far from home. What did she sacrifice to be here, to find me? It must have been important to her to do it.

  She must really believe I’m that baby’s father.

  I can’t be. I know that. But suddenly I feel deeply sorry for her. If she’s clinging so fiercely to the idea that I’m the father, it must be that whoever else she’s slept with would make a terrible alternative. That must be why she’s denying him so fiercely.

  Sighing, I turn away from breakfast and head out to the veranda. “Good morning,” I say quietly.

  She looks over at me. She’s fresh-faced and more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her, and for the first time, I really appreciate her natural beauty. I’ve always found her attractive, of course, from the first moment I saw her. But seeing her now, it’s as if she’s a work of art. I swallow and force myself to act normal.

  “Hi,” she says and smiles a little. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

  “Not really,” I admit.

  “Crazy day yesterday.”

  “That’s one way of putting it,” I say. “I’m so sorry, again, about everything that happened with Amir and the yacht. You should never have had to go through that.”

  “Stop, Chase. It’s not your fault,” she says. “You couldn’t have known that was going to happen.”

  “How are you feeling this morning?” I ask her. “Besides sleep-deprived, I mean.”

  “I’m okay,” she says.

  “I was worried about you yesterday. You were pretty upset.”

  “We got through it,” she says. “Honestly, I think you were more upset than I was. You were the one yelling at Amir the whole way home.”

  “I was upset because you were upset.”

  She laughs lightly. “I see.”

  A little of the awkwardness in the air between us dissipates.

  And feeling that little bit of awkwardness go, I realize how much I truly hate the negativity that’s existed between us since we got to Tala. Kendall’s right. I’ve been mean to her. I haven’t given her the benefit of the doubt. I’ve called her names. And, of course, I left her alone in that hotel on our first night together.

  I wonder if there�
��s any hope at this point of backtracking, getting to a place where we can feel relaxed around each other. It’s got to be worth a try, right?

  You’re fooling yourself, a voice in my head tells me. You’ll never relax around her. You want her too much.

  I slam the door on that voice. I don’t want to hear it. I focus my attention on Kendall instead.

  “Can we talk?” I ask her.

  “About what?”

  “Over here.” I gesture to a couple of upholstered chairs on the far side of the veranda. Kendall accompanies me over and takes a seat. “I want to talk about what happened in Iowa,” I say.

  She raises her eyebrows. Whatever she was expecting, I guess it wasn’t that. “What about it?”

  “I know we talked about this a little when we first met in the bar,” I say. “But things got so…heated.”

  “You called me a liar,” she reminds me.

  I close my eyes. “I know. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry for that too.”

  “Okay,” she says warily. “So what about Iowa?”

  “The way I left. I shouldn’t have done it. Not like that.”

  She nods slowly. “So why did you?”

  “I told you—”

  “You told me it was because you thought it would be easier to cut and run. But you clearly don’t think that. You’re so regretful about it. You don’t believe it was easier for you or for me.”

  “No,” I admit. “But I really did think it would be.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  I sigh. “It’s because of what I told you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  How can it not be at the forefront of her mind?

  “I’m infertile.”

  “What has that got to do with the night we were together in Iowa?” she asks. “I mean, apart from the fact that we conceived a baby that night, which you were not aware of when you left the hotel that morning.”

  I decide not to challenge her on the conception story right now. It would just get us off track.

  “I felt something for you that night,” I confess. “I felt things I hadn’t felt in a long time. If I’m being honest, I wanted more. I wanted to see you again. One night wasn’t enough for me.”