Jack had never been greeted with quite this degree of welcome by strangers. Did these women talk this way to any man who showed up, or were they that desperate for male companionship?
“Let me see, Bonnie.” A large-boned woman with steely hair loomed in the doorway. “Well, if he’s the prowler, he’s making a fool out of me, because I figured it was my ex-husband. If you’ve come to sell us something, mister, better speak up before these ladies auction you off to the highest bidder.”
“Actually, I was looking for my wife,” Jack explained.
Mimi groaned. The other two stared at him. Suddenly he didn’t feel so welcome.
“You would have to be married,” said the one he thought was Bonnie. “Who’s your wife?”
“I think I can guess,” Mimi told her.
“What is going on out there on my porch?” It was Casey’s voice, at last. “Gail, I can’t see who—”
The guests parted to let her by. Shock registering on her face, she broke off in midsentence.
Jack felt a sweet familiar ache at the sight of his wife. Those bright blue eyes, those curving cheeks with a sprinkling of freckles. He wanted to cup Casey’s chin and kiss her, to run his fingers through the light-brown hair curling around her shoulders and pull her tightly against him.
There was something funny about her denim jumper, though. It didn’t fit her right, or had she gained weight? It was hard to tell at this angle, and he didn’t want to stare.
“Jack,” she said flatly. He couldn’t read her mood.
More faces appeared behind her, wearing various degrees of curiosity and, in a few cases, disapproval. “Do you want us to stick around, Casey?” someone asked, to which another woman answered, “Are you crazy? They’ve got plenty to talk about. Hand me my jacket, would you?”
The noise of the departing guests made conversation impossible. Jack eased inside and let his wife say her farewells while he tried to make sense of the decorations.
Pink ribbons and balloons shaped like babies. Bits of wrapping paper with infants on them, and open boxes revealing a folded playpen and a car seat. It couldn’t be anything else but a baby shower.
Whose baby?
He turned to survey his wife. She was hugging an older woman—hugging this person at arm’s length, because her stomach intervened.
He couldn’t believe it. He’d known how much Casey wanted a baby, but he’d never figured she’d try it alone. What had she done, gone to a clinic? She hadn’t mentioned another man—if she had, Jack would have finalized the divorce in a hurry—and surely she hadn’t jumped into bed with a guy just to get pregnant.
He kept thinking he must be imagining this. That he’d arrived at the wrong house, which happened to belong to a woman named Casey who was a dead ringer for his wife. Or that she’d held the party for a friend and he’d missed some new fashion that required wearing dresses that stuck out in front.
Jack sucked in a deep breath. What a mess. He’d flown all this way to help her, and he still planned to do that, but she’d obviously decided to rule him out of her life. She’d made this decision on her own, precluding any chance of reconciliation.
It felt like the time a suspect had whirled around and sprayed him with Mace. The agony had been so intense that, even though he knew it caused no permanent harm, he’d feared for a moment he couldn’t bear it.
The last of the women trailed out the door, casting inquisitive glances his way. Jack forced his features into the expressionless mask he’d perfected as a teenager, when he’d frequently moved to a new foster home and a new high school. Never show weakness. Never show any feeling at all, no matter how hard your gut screamed for relief.
At last Casey closed the door. When she swung around to face him, he got an unobstructed view of her abdomen in profile. If he’d had any lingering hope that he might be mistaken, the sight dispelled all doubt.
He tried not to focus on how full her breasts looked or how lustrous her skin had become. If anything, pregnancy made her more beautiful, but if he mentioned it, she’d never believe him. Defiance glinted in her gaze and he knew that if he weren’t careful, she’d give him a tongue-lashing.
He’d probably get one, anyway. She appeared to be in that kind of mood.
“I didn’t know,” he said.
“Obviously not.” Casey crossed her arms protectively. “I suppose I should have said something but you’d have thought I was trying to trap you.”
“Trap me?” He’d assumed it was the opposite. She’d clearly rejected him.
“Well, you didn’t want a baby.”
“That much we agree on.” Jack hoped she’d start making sense soon.
“I figured you might see it as a betrayal.” Her lips quivered, and she pressed them tightly together.
“How else could I see it?”
“As a…well, not a mistake.” She lifted her chin. “As a blessing.”
“Congratulations.” He surveyed the room filled with torn wrapping paper, balloons, toys and stuffed bears. “Looks like you’ve got everything you need.”
Despite his attempt to make conversation, she glared as if he’d just insulted her. “Is that all you have to say?”
He must have missed some clue, one of those feminine things that always eluded Jack. “Nice place,” he ventured.
Utter silence. Disbelief writ large on her face.
Too bad she didn’t appreciate his attempts at diplomacy. “So I guess you want to talk about it,” he ventured.
“About ‘it’?” Fury vibrated in her voice. Jack wished she didn’t look so sensuous, with her hair mussed and her eyes even larger than usual.
“The, uh, fact that you’re pregnant,” he managed to say.
Finally, a nod. “Some kind of reaction would be appropriate.”
How was a man supposed to respond when the woman he’d married did something to split them apart forever? He didn’t see how anything he could say would help, but he’d better try or Casey was going to lacerate him. “I guess I’m pleased for you.”
“Jack! I want to know how you feel!”
“How should I feel?”
“I don’t know! You tell me.”
He gave up searching for the right words. It was no use, anyway. “How do I feel? Like I got sucker punched. We aren’t even divorced yet and you went out and did this. I guess it’s none of my business whether you picked some clinic or some guy, even though technically you’re still my wife. How do I feel? Lousy. Ticked off. Like an idiot for flying here from California because I was worried about you and figured you needed a bodyguard. Okay? How’d I do?”
As he spoke, his legs carried him around the room like a tiger pacing its cage. All these fripperies and cutesypie decorations made him want to rip them down so he could breathe.
“Oh, my gosh.” Casey’s jaw dropped.
“‘Oh, my gosh’ what?” Jack demanded, annoyed at receiving a reaction he couldn’t interpret, although at least she wasn’t throwing things at him.
“You don’t get it,” she said wonderingly.
“Get what?” He wished he knew how his wife managed to speak what sounded like English without making one bit of sense.
“It’s yours,” Casey answered.
CHAPTER THREE
“My—?” Jack didn’t finish the question, because, finally, he did get it.
Last August, when his wife had showed up in L.A. to go over their settlement, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Although she’d felt the same way, the passion wasn’t enough to persuade her to stay.
“I thought you were on the pill,” he added numbly. The truth was, he hadn’t given any thought to a pregnancy, although he could see now that he should have.
“I’d just gone off it,” Casey said. “I didn’t think I could get pregnant yet. I was wrong.”
Having had plenty of experience with people who manipulated and lied, Jack knew she might have done it on purpose. But he didn’t believe that. For one thing, he respected Casey too
much to think so poorly of her. Also, had her goal been to maneuver him into agreeing to start a family or to pressure him to pay child support, she wouldn’t have waited eight months for him to stumble onto the truth.
“You weren’t going to tell me?” he demanded, not so much from outrage as because he’d learned that asking questions was a good way to mask difficult emotions. And right now his emotions were about as confused as they’d ever been.
Casey clasped her hands in front. “I knew you didn’t want a baby and I never meant to force you.”
“Some things are hard to hide,” he pointed out. “Don’t you think I’d have learned the truth eventually?”
“In nearly three years, this is the first time you’ve come to Tennessee.” Restlessly, she began tossing the party detritus into a paper bag.
A woman in her condition shouldn’t have to clean up by herself. Guiltily, Jack realized Casey’s friends probably would have stayed to help if he hadn’t arrived.
He began collecting paper plates bearing the remains of cake and ice cream. The smell of food reminded him he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast except the beef jerky. Fortunately, he was used to missing meals.
“So when is it due?” He couldn’t say the words “the baby” yet. That made the whole thing seem too real.
“In a few weeks.”
“I’ll pay the doctor bills.” It was the least he could do.
“They’re taken care of.” Pulling down a banner, she stuffed it into her sack. “Around here, the doctor lets you pay on an installment plan.”
How typical of Casey to insist on handling everything herself. Jack wished she’d let him help. He knew better than to insist, though.
They worked in silence for a few minutes before she added, “You’re not mad?”
“I’m too buffaloed to be mad,” he admitted.
“Does that mean you might get angry after you’ve had time to absorb it?” she probed.
Seeking a reasonable response, he said, “I don’t suppose this is your fault any more than it is mine.”
Sadness and resignation mingled in her expression. “No,” Casey replied tiredly, “I don’t suppose it is.” Hauling her sack, she went into the kitchen. Jack suppressed the urge to carry it himself, because he could tell she wanted a few minutes alone.
He’d said the wrong thing again. Under his breath, he cursed his ineptness as he collected more wrappings.
The problem was, he had no idea what remark had set her off. He didn’t understand how she felt or how he felt, either. As for how to deal with Casey, he might as well have stepped out of an airplane to discover himself on an alien planet where a two-headed, gibberish-speaking native was expecting him to say and do the right things.
He didn’t know where to start.
* * *
I DON’T SUPPOSE this is your fault.
Well, there was an enthusiastic response, Casey reflected grumpily. She dropped the sack near the back door, since she didn’t feel up to carting it outside and wrestling with the heavy, locking trash can lid that kept animals at bay.
In spite of everything she knew about Jack, her heart had leaped at seeing him in the doorway. When he’d given her that baffled, little-boy look and run his fingers through his hair in consternation, she might have gathered him into her arms if the guests hadn’t been standing around.
And if her abdomen wouldn’t have gotten in the way.
What had she expected, that he’d take one look at her bulge and turn into an ecstatic daddy-to-be? Jack had made his position clear, so she shouldn’t be surprised that one glance at her advanced condition hadn’t changed his mind. But it was heartbreaking.
Anxious to keep busy, Casey began unloading the dishwasher Enid had run earlier. As she stowed cake pans and trays in the cabinets, she calmed at the memory of how much fun she’d had, playing silly games and eating too much at the party.
Her friends had been more than generous. She really appreciated the way they’d chipped in for a playpen and car seat, which meant a big savings to her budget. She made a mental note to begin writing thank-yous as soon as she found a spare moment.
Why did Jack have to show up and make everyone go home early? Why did he have to make her heart beat faster and remind her of how much she missed him?
She wished seeing him didn’t have this effect. Also that he would at least pretend to be excited about the baby. Instead, he acted as if this were an irksome inconvenience, like a car that had broken down and couldn’t be fixed.
It would have been better if he hadn’t found out. They could have led their separate lives peacefully, as if they’d never met.
Oh, right. As if she could forget him when every time she looked at her daughter she was likely to see his eyes or his grin. Diane’s very existence reminded her of the unforgettable night when they’d created her.
Standing motionless on the linoleum, Casey forced herself to be honest. She’d longed for Jack to find out. She’d wanted him to grin and admit what a huge mistake he’d made by foolishly rejecting fatherhood. Then, no doubt, they could have strolled off into the sunset, pushing a baby carriage and feeding each other bonbons.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen. So he ought to leave, and the sooner the better.
Of course, she had to be practical if she wanted him to accept the heave-ho. He had come an awfully long way with good motives and, being a guy, he must want food, Casey reasoned.
Retrieving some of the finger sandwiches Enid had stored in the fridge, she tucked them and a cupcake inside a lunch bag. At least he couldn’t say she sent him away hungry.
Then she heard the one noise a woman never, ever expects to emanate from a room in which she has left an unaccompanied male.
He was running the vacuum cleaner.
Astonished, Casey went to watch. Not that she imagined sprites had sneaked in to do the cleanup, but some things had to be witnessed to be accepted.
The first thing she saw in the living room was Jack’s dark suit coat draped over a chair. The second was the tantalizing way his button-down shirt emphasized the contours of his chest as he navigated the vacuum around the table legs.
He stopped to move a chair aside and pick up a bit of ribbon that had fallen beneath it. The attention to detail tickled her. She’d always admired her husband’s thoroughness, although she’d never seen him vacuum a carpet before. Whatever he did, he did well.
A moment later, he switched off the machine. When the noise died, he glanced up sheepishly. “I thought I’d help.”
“Thank you.” Casey pointed to the lunch sack. “I packed some food for you to take to wherever you’re staying.”
“I appreciate the offer.” He wound the cord into place. “But I’m staying here.”
She decided to pretend she hadn’t heard. “There’s a motel about three miles away, just past Lake Avenue.” Casey saw no reason to mention that her parents used to manage it. She’d grown up on the premises before they bought the Pine Woods.
He replaced the vacuum in a closet. “The couch will suit me fine.”
“You don’t honestly believe…” She halted the flow of words, remembering why he’d come. “Maybe you should explain exactly what I can expect while you’re here.”
“How many choices do I have?”
“You get to do A: Catch the bad guy. Go on, give me your sales pitch. How do you plan to do it?”
One eyebrow quirked but he kept a straight face. “Assess weaknesses and recommend improvements. Interview witnesses. Implement safety procedures. Catch the creep by whatever means necessary. I guess that sums it up.”
It sounded as if it could take a while. She hoped the investigation wouldn’t take weeks. Hours would be better. Minutes, even. If she let herself get dependent on Jack, she would feel all the more hurt when he left. “What kind of time frame are we talking about?”
Jack assumed a commanding stance with legs apart and head cocked. “I can make my evaluation in a day or two, but I’d r
ather…”
“A day or two is an absolute maximum.”
He took a deep breath. Calming himself, probably. “Let’s concentrate on the facts. How often does he show up?”
“This is the fourth time in a month,” Casey said. “That works out to about once a week.”
“How many people have seen him?”
“Gail and me. And Enid, or at least she heard somebody rustling around in her bushes one night. Enid and Gail live in the two closest cabins.” After a moment’s thought, Casey added, “Our mailbox got damaged, too, about three weeks ago, but it looked like a car scraped it. It’s right by the road.”
He took a notepad from his pocket and scribbled on it. “Always at night?”
“So far.”
“Has anything been stolen?” He spoke with the impersonal tone of a police officer.
Casey shook her head. “Not that I know of.”
“Any threats? Anonymous letters or e-mails? Hang-ups on the telephone?”
“No,” she replied.
“Besides the woman who thinks it might be her ex, does anyone else have reason to believe they’re being stalked?”
She responded in the negative.
Jack made another note and then seemed to remember who he was talking to. “Shouldn’t you be sitting down?”
“I’m fine.” Stubbornly, she held her ground, trying to ignore the way her abdomen tugged on her overstrained muscles.
He turned a chair backwards and sat down facing her. “Casey, when you told me someone sprayed you with a hose, I wasn’t aware you were carrying a child. It sounded bad enough before, but this is worse. That was a vicious thing to do.”
“He might not have been able to see in the dark,” she protested. “He might not have realized I’m pregnant.”
“Unless it’s someone who knows you.”
Maybe that possibility should have occurred to her before; however, she found it hard to accept. “I guess it’s your job to suspect everyone, but that’s ridiculous.”
“Why?”
Because this was Richfield Crossing, not L.A., she thought in annoyance. But she already knew he wouldn’t buy that argument. “Nobody has a motive.” Since she gained no ground by continuing to stand, she yielded to common sense at last and sank onto the sofa.
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