HER SECRET, HIS BABY

by Tanya Michaels

  She gave in to the impulse she’d had earlier today to comfort him. Now that they weren’t separated by his parents’ dining-room table, she put her arm around his midsection and hugged him tightly, resting her head on his chest. He went very still at first, but gradually relaxed, dropping one arm over her shoulders and stroking her hair with his other hand. It was very quiet in the room, only the whir of his laptop providing background noise.

  Finally, he broke the silence. “You know I have a consultation scheduled for Monday? That’s the first step, followed by several days, up to a week in the hospital. There are physicals, blood tests, psych evaluation...” He sounded overwhelmed.

  “I could go with you on Monday,” she ventured. “You know, for moral support.”

  “I’d rather you stay here.”

  She sat upright. “Are you sure? I know hale-and-hearty cowboys don’t admit weakness, but it might be easier for you with someone there.”

  “Just the opposite. My dad really likes you.”

  What did that have to do with the price of skis in Denver?

  “I already despise that I can’t tell him where I’m going,” Garrett said hollowly. “Bringing you with me would be like a double betrayal, making you an accessory to the crime.”

  “Garrett, you may end up saving a man’s life—a man your father cares about deeply, by the way. That’s hardly a crime.” She decided to lighten the mood. “If you end up spending a week in the hospital, can I at least come visit you? Feels like it should be my turn to see you in one of the embarrassing paper gowns that covers essentially nothing.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Here I thought you were being compassionate and supportive, but really you were angling for a look at my ass?”

  “Is there a law that a woman can’t be nurturing and ogle at the same time?”

  He laughed at that, and his smile made her feel as if she’d won the lottery. Their gazes held a fraction of an instant too long. If he asked again whether she wanted to hear the details of his scandalous bathtub daydreams, she’d say yes this time. But he did the sensible thing and held his hand out for her mug.

  “I’ll wash these out. You can go ahead and brush your teeth, then I’ll take my turn.”

  He gave her plenty of time. She was already in bed with the covers pulled up to her chin when he disappeared into the bathroom. Listening to him gargle mouthwash, she giggled in the dark. She’d lived alone for years and was unaccustomed to sharing the mundane, yet somehow poignant, intimacy of these daily routines.

  The bathroom door opened, and Garrett shut off the light. Her eyes needed a moment to readjust—she could hear him but not see him very well. The man had a fantastic voice, rich and addictive like caramel.

  “I’m not going to wake you before I saddle up in the morning,” he reminded her. “No reason for us both to be up at the crack of dawn. Dad bought me some pastries when he went to town this morning. They’ll be out on the counter. There’s also a bowl of fruit and plenty of milk and juice. Mom used her spare key to stock the fridge when she heard I was bringing a guest. If you want anything more substantial for breakfast or need company, give Mom a call at the house. Dad bought her a used golf cart a few years ago so she can zip between all the buildings on the property as long as there’s no snow on the ground.

  “On the other hand,” he continued, “if you feel like taking advantage of the opportunity to sleep in, no one would blame you.”

  “Feels a bit antisocial,” she said. “To come all this way to meet your family, then waste half the day in bed.” Plus, Brandon still owed her that tour he’d promised. He said the spring-fed lake was particularly beautiful. And he wanted to show her the spot on this very ranch where, thirty-six years ago, he’d proposed to Caroline.

  The mattress dipped as Garrett sat next to her. “I think your obstetrician would see it as ‘resting,’ not ‘wasting.’ And you’re nearly seven months pregnant. Being a little antisocial is your prerogative, okay?”

  “Yes, sir.” She gave him a jaunty salute.

  He sighed. “Why are you mocking me?”

  “Force of habit. I grew up with two well-meaning but domineering brothers, so irreverence tends to be my default mode whenever a man tells me something that’s for my own good. Not that you were domineering. You’re being considerate.”

  “I try. It hasn’t been the easiest thing this week, but I do try. The considerate thing now is to leave you alone so you can sleep.”

  For a bare second, she thought he might kiss her good-night. Instead, he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, tracing the sensitive outer edge and doubling back to curve across her top lip. Unable to help herself, she caught the pad of his thumb between her teeth, biting gently. He sucked in his breath, the gasp unnaturally loud in the stillness.

  “Arden.” That warm caramel voice spilled over her, making her toes curl beneath the sheets. “Even if I wanted to act on the attraction to us, I’m not sure it would be safe for you.”

  He had a point. In the unlikely event that her blood pressure didn’t go back down and Dr. Mehta diagnosed her with preeclampsia, she needed to exercise caution for the duration of her pregnancy. The last thing she wanted to do was risk Peanut’s safety.

  She felt ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” There was so much banked heat in his eyes, she imagined she could see them glowing.

  When he headed for the doorway, she succumbed to a moment of weakness and called him back. “Garrett? I know we shouldn’t...do anything stimulating. But do you really have to sleep on the couch? We’ve shared a bed before.” She’d slept in his arms over six months ago and hadn’t had that kind of closeness with anyone since. Once the baby came, she would have her hands full. It could be a very long time before she was serious enough about another man to spend the night with him.

  The thought gave her a pang, as if imagining a hypothetical man in Garrett’s presence was disloyal. What if...what if she’d already found the man she wanted? Then you probably shouldn’t have elected to cheat him out of the news that he was a father, especially not at the same time he was grappling with the most important woman in his life being a liar and adulteress. With his scars and trust issues, she almost felt sorry for the next person to date him.

  “You want me to stay?” he asked.

  “I do.” She held her breath.

  “Then scoot over, and don’t hog the covers.”

  “Can I put my icy cold feet on you?” she asked sweetly.

  “Not unless you want to hear a grown man shriek like a little girl,” he said as he slid beneath the sheets.

  She rolled to the other side, fluffing her pillow and smiling at his nearness. Then she chuckled. “Figures. He does this every night—it’s half the reason I never get decent sleep anymore.” She reached for Garrett’s hand and placed his palm over her abdomen. “Peanut seems to be gearing up for the 2028 Olympic gymnastics team.”

  “You called the baby he,” Garrett noted. “So you’re thinking men’s gymnastics, then? Maybe we should have registered for an itty-bitty set of parallel bars.”

  “It was just a slip of the tongue, not true maternal instinct.” The power of suggestion—she’d been visualizing their child as a boy ever since seeing all of Garrett’s baby pictures. By the time they’d returned to the main house for dinner tonight, Caroline had pulled out even more albums for Arden to peruse. “We should register for equipment used in both women’s and men’s gymnastics. Think that site we were on has anything in a miniature vault?”

  “They’d better. If they’ve neglected to stock cowboy hats for newborns and essential gym equipment, we may have to take our business elsewhere.”

  She laughed and, as though responding to the sound, the baby rolled beneath Garrett’s hand. “Peanut seems happy,” she said. In fact, she herself felt dangerously content.


  Snuggled against Garrett now, it was difficult to remember that he was the same person who’d baldly announced to his family earlier today that there was “nothing romantic” between him and Arden. He’d admitted that he was trying extra-hard to be considerate, and he knew from her visit to Dr. Mehta that she shouldn’t be exposed to extra stress or conflict. Garrett was humoring the pregnant lady. Just because he’d agreed to her request to stay with her tonight didn’t mean anything had changed long-term, that he’d forgiven her.

  Still, despite what her logical mind knew to be true, her last absent thought as beckoning oblivion enveloped her was my family.

  * * *

  CAROLINE FROST MUST have been standing at her back door, keys in hand, just waiting for Arden’s call. Scarcely three minutes after Arden phoned to say she was awake and showered on Sunday morning, Caroline appeared on the porch.

  Garrett’s front porch wasn’t nearly as elaborate as his parents’ wraparound veranda, but it was wide enough to accommodate a white swing and two padded chairs. In the spring, it was probably a beautiful place to enjoy the breezy sunshine and watch birds and small animals flit across the pasture.

  “Come on inside,” Arden welcomed Caroline. “Although, I feel a little foolish issuing the invitation, me being a temporary guest and this house having belonged to your family for generations.”

  They walked into the living room, where Arden had set out a pot of decaf coffee and pastries on the table.

  “I hope you won’t think of yourself as a mere guest for long.” Caroline settled onto the couch, her expression earnest. “I’ll admit, when Garrett told me he was bringing you home this weekend, I had mixed feelings. Nothing personal, dear. I only questioned the timing. But now I’m delighted you’re here. I saw the way he looked at you last night. You may be exactly what he needs.”

  Suddenly Arden wished she’d taken Garrett’s guidance about sleeping in this morning. This was the most carefree she’d seen his mother since they arrived, and Arden was about to rob her of her optimistic happiness. “Mrs. Frost—”

  The woman harrumphed an unsubtle reminder.

  “Sorry. Caroline. I appreciate the compliment, but you know your son and I aren’t dating.”

  “Maybe not at the moment,” she said knowingly.

  “Maybe not ever. I lied to him. About the baby.”

  Caroline looked startled. “How do you mean?”

  “I never called to tell him he was going to be a father. I’d planned to be a single mom with him none the wiser. And, frankly, I’m not sure he’ll ever forgive me. That’s not to say he’s nurturing a grudge or being unpleasant to me,” she was quick to add. “He’s been...wonderful, very conscientious about my health and not upsetting me unduly. But there’s a barrier between us. I don’t know that it will ever completely go away.”

  “I see.” Caroline’s hand trembled slightly as she poured two mugs of coffee. “My son’s certainly been through a lot. I wish I could promise you that forgiveness will come, but I’m the last person who can say that. Did he tell you that we had...not quite an argument, but a difficult conversation before he left?”

  “He told me. About you and Will.”

  Caroline covered her face with her hands. “What you must think of me!”

  “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, we all act rashly at one time or another,” Arden said wryly.

  “I wanted to explain the whole story to him, my frame of mind at the time—not that it excuses what I did. But he was too damn mad. When he left the ranch, I had no idea how long he’d be gone or what he’d say to Brandon when he returned. I love my husband, Arden. With my heart and soul! I hate myself for what I did to him...but how do I regret having Garrett? My other pregnancies— Oh, but this isn’t an appropriate story for a young woman expecting her first child. I don’t want to frighten you.”

  Arden appreciated her thoughtfulness, but Caroline Frost seemed as if she desperately needed a friendly ear. “I can probably take it. I grew up with the acute awareness that bad things happen. Often without rhyme or reason. One person could live a charmed life and the neighbors next door could lose their grandmother and their dog and have their house burn down all in the same week. I’ll try not to let your misfortunes make me paranoid.” Try being the operative word.

  “You’re sure?” Caroline licked her lips nervously. “Oh, if you weren’t in a family way, I’d pour a healthy dollop of whiskey into both our coffees. Brandon loves this ranch almost as much as he loves me. He grew up here and planned to run it with his two brothers. But one was killed in Vietnam. The other overdosed.”

  Arden sometimes forgot that tragedy could be just as prevalent in other families as it had been in hers.

  “When we got married, he talked all the time about having children. I think he hoped our kids could recreate the dream he lost when his brothers died. I wanted a big family, too,” Caroline added with a sad smile. “We hadn’t been married a whole year the first time I got pregnant. We were beside ourselves with joy. I lost the baby in the first trimester.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Miscarriages in early pregnancy weren’t uncommon, but Arden could see in Caroline’s gray eyes—so like her son’s—that the memory still haunted her.

  “I was devastated, but the doctor assured me it wasn’t a sign we’d done anything wrong or couldn’t have children. After some time passed, we found out I was expecting again. This time, we didn’t tell anyone. I wanted to safely pass that three-month mark first. We never made it that far.”

  Arden wanted to weep for her. It was easy to imagine the excited young bride and her groom with their dreams of children filling the brick house, playing hide-and-seek in the stables, gallivanting through the pastures, chasing after bunnies and chipmunks.

  “Brandon and I never fought while we were dating,” Caroline continued, “and we’ve rarely fought during our marriage. But that was a terrible time for us. Tension was so high. We didn’t know—should we try again? Every time we came together as husband and wife, I was torn between half hoping we had conceived and praying we didn’t. Then it happened. I was pregnant. I made it all the way to five months.” She stopped, hiccupped, tried to catch her breath and stave off the gathering tears.

  “You don’t have to tell me the rest.” Arden felt like hell for encouraging her in the first place. “Really. It’s none of my—”

  “No, it’s okay,” Caroline said bravely. “I should have talked this all out with someone a long time ago. You’re doing me a favor. That last miscarriage was the worst. The doctors weren’t even sure I could have a baby after that. Brandon was enraged, having lost his brothers and repeatedly losing the babies. I was despondent. We barely spoke, neither of us knowing what to say or how to make it better. The only time either of us laughed was when his friend Will joined us for dinner or to play cards. When the doctor told me it was okay to have relations again, Brandon wouldn’t touch me.

  “Looking back, I think it was fear. He was afraid to cause me more physical or emotional damage. At the time, it felt like rejection, like I was defective. A piece of livestock he’d sell off because of inherent flaws. We had a horrible argument one night, and he took off.”

  Arden was so caught up in the tale she forgot to breathe. Even though she’d seen firsthand that the Frosts had overcome their tribulations, it was easy to imagine how scared and alone the woman had felt so many years ago, wondering where her husband had disappeared to and if he would be all right.

  “Turns out, he’d holed up in a friend’s hunting cabin to think. That’s one thing about Frost boys, sometimes they have to go out on their own before they can figure out how to be with the ones they love. This was before the days of cell phones, and I was inconsolable. Bad storms swept into the area the next day, and Will came to look after me. Tornadoes in the area knocked out the power. Will and I lit some candle
s and made up pallets in the basement, planning to spend the night down there. We talked about Brandon and I cried, afraid he didn’t want me anymore. Afraid no man would want me because there was something wrong with me. I...” She broke off on a wail.

  When she’d regained a measure of composure, she finished. “It just happened. I know that sounds awful, like I’m not taking any responsibility, but I know I betrayed the man I love.” She sounded lost.

  Arden handed her one of the napkins from the table, taking another to dab her own eyes.

  “The storm was the impetus Brandon needed to come home. As soon as the roads were cleared, he raced back to check on me. Will begged me not to tell Brandon what we’d done. He said that with everything Bran and I had already suffered through, he could never forgive himself if he was the straw that broke our marriage. For years, he wouldn’t even come to dinner unless he had a date with him—a buffer, I guess. After Brandon and I made up, it took time to coax him back into our bed. He’s a man. He doesn’t pay attention to details like gestational calendars, unless it’s calving season, but the timing didn’t line up.”

  “You knew he wasn’t the father,” Arden observed.

  Caroline nodded. “After the delivery, my doctor did a procedure to keep me from having more kids. He’d formed a theory that Bran and I were...incompatible, medically speaking. We’re so blessed to have Garrett. He’s ours in every way that counts. I never would have told him otherwise if it weren’t a matter of life or death.” Her voice was a naked plea, an entreaty for forgiveness that wasn’t Arden’s to bestow.

  Tears were streaming down both their faces, and Arden hugged her tightly. They sat like that for a while, two mothers both understanding the compulsion to do right for your child amid a minefield of possible wrong choices.

  Caroline straightened. “I’ve wondered, at times, if Will had an inkling of the truth, but we didn’t speak of it through my entire pregnancy. As an infant, Garrett once had to go to the E.R. because his fever was too high. I realized there may come a day when there was a medical necessity for Will to intervene. Maybe donating blood or answering questions about patient history, whatever. For the sake of my son, I had to talk to Will, to make sure we were on the same page in case there was ever a future crisis. I never imagined it would be the other way around, that he would be the one needing assistance. Garrett may be too angry to see it right now, to remember it, but Will Harlow is a good man.”