With Courage and Commitment

by Charlotte Maclay

  But it was the intimacy of his touch that brought a tightness to her chest. A fierce longing she hadn’t recognized she’d been harboring.

  Other than herself and assorted medical personnel, Danny was the first person to feel her baby move, to acknowledge her daughter existed in more than an abstract way. In the depth of his blue eyes, she saw the same awe she experienced every day. The reflection of her own wonder that a tiny, helpless person was growing inside her.

  She ached to share her amazement, her excitement with someone special. To relate each change in her body, every new sensation, the pokes and prods the baby gave her, her daughter’s periodic hiccups that jiggled her tummy.

  In return, she longed for someone to reassure her that her fears were unfounded. Motherhood was as natural as waking up in the morning. She and the baby would both be fine.

  But she couldn’t lay all of that on Danny. She wasn’t carrying his baby; he wasn’t responsible for either her or her daughter. He wouldn’t want to be.

  He’d made it pretty obvious that he wasn’t comfortable around kids. They made him nervous. And unless things had changed since his high school days, he didn’t lack for women in his life. No way would he want to be saddled with a pregnant woman who he still thought of as the pesky kid down the street.

  No, he wouldn’t want her and her baby any more than Edgar had. In their own way, they were too much alike—playboys who were too damn bossy.

  Stephanie would simply have to get on with her life without that special someone. Single moms managed on their own all the time. She would, too.

  “Guess we’d better get home,” he said, taking a step back.

  She struggled not to miss his touch, to ignore the tender ache of longing that filled her chest. “Fine by me. Dad’s likely to be home soon and looking for his dinner.”

  His dark brows pulled together. “Don’t you think you ought to take a nap or something? You had a long day.”

  “Evidently you haven’t heard that old story about a woman’s work is never done.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Home, Daniel. I’m fine.” Which didn’t mean the thought of a nap lacked appeal. A chance to put her feet up for a while was equally tempting.

  He closed her door and walked around the truck to the driver’s side.

  “You and your dad still like to go up to San Francisco to take in a baseball game now and then?” he asked as he pulled the truck away from the curb.

  She smiled at the memories his question brought back. “I haven’t been in years. I don’t think Dad has, either.”

  “Your, ah, boyfriend didn’t enjoy sports?”

  “Not likely. He was more into opera and the theater. Opening night box seats right next to the ones his parents had held for years. Formal attire. Dinner afterward at whatever place was currently in with the wealthy crowd.”

  “Big spender, huh?”

  “Very. New Jaguar every two years. Weekend flights on the Concorde to Paris whenever the urge struck him, at least he did before the planes were grounded.” Everything he did designed to sweep a woman off her feet, which is exactly what he’d done to Stephanie—to her great regret now.

  Danny glanced at her. “Funny. For my money, baseball is a lot more fun than listening to some screeching soprano.”

  She laughed. “Let’s say the experience broadened my horizons.” Just as the pregnancy was broadening her hips.

  “I remember your dad taking me along to Giants’ games with you and your sister. It was great. You know, freezing our buns off in that cold wind coming off the bay at Candlestick Park. The Giants always managing to lose their big lead against the Dodgers and blowing the game.” He laughed softly. “Your dad stuffed us with popcorn and pizza and sodas until I could barely walk back to the car.”

  “And I’d eat so much I’d get sick on the ride home.”

  Danny shuddered. “Yeah, I remember that, too.” He glanced over at her and winked. “You were such a wimp.”

  “I was not!” She huffed dramatically. Despite the car sickness, those trips had been fun. More so than a lot of the operas she’d attended. “I simply had a sensitive stomach, not a cast-iron one like some folks I know.”

  “Speaking of your sister, how’s Karen doing these days? I don’t see her around much.”

  “Fine, I guess. Her husband’s stationed in Texas now, when he’s not being deployed to some hot spot around the world. She’s pretty busy with the kids, I imagine.”

  About the time Stephanie was graduating from college, her younger sister had announced she was getting married. The reason for the hurry-up nuptials had become apparent six months later when Christopher Malone was born. Eighteen months after that Bryana arrived.

  Apparently the Gray sisters hadn’t paid close enough attention in the sex education classes at Paseo High School. They’d missed the meaning of “Just Say No.”

  Never once had Stephanie’s father criticized either of his daughters for their slips in judgment. He simply gave them a hug and said he loved them. Pretty terrific guy.

  She slid her gaze to Danny as he turned onto their street. With a father who had deserted him, he hadn’t had the breaks she and her sister had enjoyed. Still, he’d made the most of what he’d been given. She’d give him credit for that.

  But that didn’t mean she could rely on him any more than she’d been able to rely on Edgar. Once burned, as they say, could happen to anyone. But twice burned, shame on me! Stephanie wasn’t going to risk getting burned again anytime soon.

  Danny pulled the truck into her driveway. “Delivered to your doorstep, madam.”

  Her father waved from the porch and walked down the steps. “Hello, Danny. Good to see you. How’d the painting job go?”

  “Everything’s under control,” he replied.

  To Stephanie’s dismay, Danny switched off the ignition as if he were planning to stay a while. She opened her own door and hopped down.

  “I’m sure Alice and Stephanie both appreciate your help.” Her father reached out for Stephanie and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Say, why don’t you stay for dinner, Danny? Stephanie’s a great little cook and she could whip us up something. It’d be like old times having you at the table.”

  Stephanie balked. “Wait a minute.”

  “Steph’s already worked hard enough for today,” Danny said.

  Mentally Stephanie exhaled a sigh of relief. Danny was going to decline the invitation.

  “So why don’t I go clean up,” he continued, “then go by the Chinese place on Broadway and get us some take-out?”

  She sputtered an objection, not that either of the men were paying attention to her. They were too involved in deciding between fried rice, chow mein and sweet-and-sour pork.

  “Wait a minute!” she shouted.

  They both stopped talking and gaped at her. “What?” they said in unison.

  She glared at her father. “If we’re having Danny for dinner,” she said ever so sweetly, “maybe we ought to invite Councilwoman Anderson to join us. I’m sure she loves Chinese as much as I do.” If her dad could do a little matchmaking—over Stephanie’s objection—so could she.

  Paling, her father returned her glare. “I’m not so sure—”

  “That’d be great,” Danny said. He tossed Stephanie a confident smile that dimpled his cheek. “You get lots more stuff when you order for four.”

  Inwardly Stephanie groaned. Matched against Danny and her father, she was a sure loser. “Would you like me to call Mrs. Anderson, or would you like to call her yourself, Dad?”

  Admitting defeat, her father did an eye roll. “I’ll call her,” he muttered.

  BACK AT HIS HOUSE, Danny had just stepped out of the shower when the phone rang. The thought that Stephanie might be calling to cancel the Chinese take-out punched him in the gut. Funny, he’d never before looked forward to fried rice with such enthusiasm.

  Wrapping a towel around his waist, he picked up the phone. “Yeah.”
/>   “Yo, Sullivan. How’s it going, buddy?”

  Danny instantly recognized Moose Durban’s voice. Friends and rivals since high school, they’d vied for everything you could name, including girls and honors on the playing field. So far the score was dead even. The tie breaker was the upcoming triathlon when Moose would represent the fire department in the neighboring town of La Verde. “Can’t complain. You?”

  “Hey, I’m ready to party, like always. You got plans for tonight?”

  “Yeah, sort of.”

  “Girl-type plans?”

  He pictured Stephanie, thought about the baby daughter she was carrying, and smiled. “A couple of girls, actually.”

  “Fat city! Bring ’em along and we’ll hit some clubs. I hear they’ve got a hot band doing a gig down at Pismo. Let’s rock.”

  Normally Danny would be good to go with his buddy. Party hardy, that was their motto despite their rivalry. But tonight the thought of rocking and rolling in the singles scene seemed trivial compared to spending a couple of hours with Stephanie over a few cartons of take-out. But he didn’t think Moose would understand his change of heart.

  “Can’t do it, man.” He searched for an excuse that wouldn’t make him sound like a wimp. “I’m in training, you know. No booze and lots of z’s.”

  “Come on, man. You never let a race slow you down before. Or don’t you want to share the wealth? If you’re squiring two chicks around—”

  “It’s not like that.” Stephanie was definitely not a chick. Well, maybe she was cute enough to fall into that category but she had too much class. And would probably give him a tongue-lashing if he ever described her that way. Righteously so. “Let’s make it another time, okay?”

  “Sure, whenever.”

  He could hear the hurt in his friend’s voice. A week ago Danny might have canceled what amounted to a family dinner to go bumming around with his buddy. He sure as hell wasn’t thinking of the evening ahead of him as a date. Not by a long shot.

  Stephanie was more like a little sister. Sure he cared about her, but not that way. And she might have had a crush on him when she was a kid, but she’d long since outgrown that. She’d moved on to much greener pastures. He couldn’t help it if sometimes he reacted to her in a man-woman way. That didn’t mean he had ulterior motives. It meant his hormones were working like they should. Nothing more than that.

  He shifted his thoughts back to Moose. “I’ll call you, man. We’ll get together. I promise.”

  His friend didn’t sound convinced as he hung up.

  Danny didn’t believe it either. Not really. More than once in recent years, Danny had been disturbed because Moose hadn’t outgrown his need to score with every woman he dated. Now, knowing how Stephanie had been dumped the moment she announced she was pregnant, Moose’s attitude bothered him even more.

  “Guys ought to take some responsibility,” he mumbled to himself as he went to get dressed. From his perspective, chow mein and egg rolls were sounding better and better. The perfect nutritional supplement to give him a boost in preparation for race day, less than three months away.

  A HALF-DOZEN CARTONS of Chinese food sat in the center of the dining-room table on a lazy Susan, most of the containers still half full. The scent of sweet-and-sour and soy sauce hovered in the air.

  Danny had gone overboard ordering enough dinner for ten people. Stephanie figured she and her father would be eating leftovers for days.

  Evie Anderson, an attractive gray-haired widow in her sixties, was wearing a feminine silk blouse with a scalloped collar. She placed her fork across her plate and leaned back with a sigh. “I don’t believe I could eat another bite. Everything was delicious.”

  “Don’t forget your fortune cookie,” Danny reminded her, shooting the councilwoman one of his patented grins. He’d dressed informally, in jeans and a stenciled T-shirt, which pulled tautly across his well-muscled chest. “Could be your love life is about to improve.”

  A tinge of extra color brightened her cheeks. “Oh, no, I’m too old for that.” She glanced at Stephanie’s father, no doubt in the hope Harlan would disagree with her. The poor woman had been pursuing him for ages with little encouragement from the man, which didn’t seem to deter her ambition to nab him.

  Harlan didn’t look in Evie’s direction. “I always get the fortune that bawls me out for something.”

  “You won’t tonight,” Danny assured him, passing Harlan the bag of cookies. “I made a special deal with the cookie maker—all my friends get good fortunes when I’m buying.”

  Harlan cracked open a cookie and pulled out the strip of paper. “See, I told you. It’s the same one I always get. ‘Don’t forget to take out the garbage.”’

  Stephanie laughed. “It’s not. Let me see that.”

  Instead of passing her the slip of paper, he wadded up the fortune, stuffed it into his shirt pocket and handed the bag to Stephanie. “Your turn.”

  “That’s not fair.” Reluctantly she chose a cookie and passed the bag to Evie. She wasn’t sure what she wanted her fortune to be beyond giving birth to a healthy baby girl. In recent months she’d been afraid to hope for too much, the fear of continued disappointment too keen to face another loss. She set the cookie aside. “I’ll save this for later.”

  Danny shook his head. “That’s against the rules. If you don’t read your fortune, it’s ten years bad luck.”

  “It’s not,” Stephanie objected.

  “I’ll read mine,” Evie said, breaking open her cookie and squinting at the tiny piece of paper. “Oh, dear, the print is so small I can’t see it. I left my glasses in the other room. It’s so dreadful to be vain, don’t you know?”

  “Let me.” Danny took the paper from her. “It says, ‘Golden Lotus Cookie Company.”’

  “Not that side, young man.” Evie giggled a surprisingly girlish laugh. “The other side.”

  “Oh, right.” He grinned and read, “‘Your heart will soon know happiness.”’

  “How nice. Don’t you think so, Harlan?”

  “It probably means you’re going to get elected to another term on the city council. The mayor will love it.”

  “Pshaw.” She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “What can you do with a man who doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body?”

  No one responded to her rhetorical question.

  “Here’s my fortune,” Danny said. “‘The race goes to the swift.’ Perfect. The triathlon is in the bag.”

  “Excellent.” Harlan dropped his broken cookie onto this plate and brushed his hands together. “I’ll send out a notice to the other cities telling them they don’t have to enter a team. The trophy will stay in Paseo.”

  Lifting his brows, Danny eyed Stephanie. “Can’t put it off any longer, Ms. Gray. Let’s hear what your fortune says.”

  Knowing he’d keep after her until she gave in, Stephanie snapped open the cookie. The fortune refused to come out easily, and she had to break the hard shell into little pieces. She opened the paper and silently read, Look to your friend for the love you seek.

  Her head snapped up. Bright blue eyes snared her from across the table, and a little smile teased at the corners of Danny’s lips.

  Dear heaven! He couldn’t know what the fortune said. He wouldn’t want to know. And he certainly wouldn’t have planted a fortune like this one for her to open. In any case, the whole idea was ludicrous. She didn’t believe in fortune-telling of any kind. And there was no reason why her heart was pumping about two hundred beats per second at the mere suggestion Danny could or would fill the void in her life.

  “Well?” her father asked. “Are you going to share the bad news with us?”

  Abruptly she broke out of her trance, closing her hand around the slip of paper. “It says if I don’t get the dishes done soon you won’t get the garbage taken out on time.”

  “Whoa! Wait a minute,” Danny complained.

  Shoving back from the table, she picked up her plate and her father’s without
meeting Danny’s gaze. Then she fled to the kitchen. No way would she reveal the contents of her fortune to Danny or anyone else.

  Nor would she dwell on wishful thinking.

  She heard Danny’s unmistakable footsteps follow her into the kitchen.

  “Here, let me take care of that.” He stacked the two plates he was carrying on the counter and took the other two away from her before she had a chance to follow suit. “You should be resting with your feet up.”

  Her jaw clenched. “My feet are just fine.”

  Taking her by her shoulders, he tried to turn her back toward the dining room. She didn’t budge. Desperately she ignored the gentle strength of his hands, his closeness, the pulse she saw beating at the base of his throat. And her own unwelcome response to being near enough to catch the fresh scent of soap on his skin.

  He tipped her chin up, forcing her to look into his eyes. “What’s wrong, Twiggy? Was your fortune that bad?”

  “Don’t call me that.” The words ached in her throat, her voice barely audible past the lump of forgotten dreams. “I’m not a skinny little kid anymore.”

  “I didn’t call you that because you were skinny.” Lightly he ran his thumb over her lips. “I called you Twiggy because you reminded me of a twig planted in the ground that would one day grow into a beautiful, stately tree. Which is exactly what you’ve done. Except you’re a woman, of course.”

  The press of tears suddenly burned at the back of her eyes. Hormones, she told herself. “You’re just making that up to make me feel better.”

  “Nope. I wouldn’t lie about something so important.”

  A delicious shiver sent gooseflesh racing down her spine. “Guys lie about a lot of things.”

  “Only about dumb stuff, and then mostly to impress each other. Like how many women they’ve—”

  “I don’t think I want to hear this.”

  His lips twitched with the threat of a smile. “Good, ’cause I wouldn’t want to impress you too much.”

  “Not much chance of that.” She swatted at his arm but he didn’t let her go. “If you want to be helpful, go bring in the leftovers so I can put them in the refrigerator.”