by Gina Wilkins
Tom chuckled and tightened his arm around her waist, admiring her spirit despite her obvious distress at Pendleton’s presence.
Leslie wasn’t finished. “You wasted your time chasing after me, Steve. As you can see, Kenny is just fine, but it’s late and I need to get him into bed. And by the way, if you don’t stop having me followed, I’m charging you with harassment, is that clear?”
“If you think I’m going to disappear from your life just because you’ve ordered me to, you’re wrong,” he snapped. “I—”
A musical voice from the open doorway interrupted Pendleton’s threat, startling all of them.
“Goodness, there are a lot of cars parked out here. Tommy? What’s going on?”
The woman in the doorway was tiny, no more than five feet tall. Her eyes were green, her hair ash-blond and cut into a soft bob that framed a pretty, oval face. Her unlined skin gave little indication of her age. She was dressed in a bright-blue pantsuit and she held a covered pie plate in front of her.
“Who’s this?” Pendleton asked sarcastically, looking from the woman in the doorway to Tom. “Another fiancée?”
“This,” Tom answered with some satisfaction, “is my mother.”
This time Pendleton’s expression was openly disbelieving. “Yeah, right.”
Leslie smiled, though she looked a bit worried. “Hello, Nina. It’s good to see you.”
“Leslie!” Nina’s face brightened with pleasure as she moved around Steve Pendleton to greet Leslie as warmly as if it hadn’t been over a year since she’d last seen Tom’s ex-girlfriend. “And look at this little angel,” she crooned, admiring the baby still sleeping in Leslie’s arms.
“Leslie and her nephew just got into town, Mom,” Tom said, sending her frantic mental messages. “I know you’ve been looking forward to seeing this baby I’ve been telling you about.”
“Of course,” Nina replied promptly, with only one searching glance Tom’s way. “You and Leslie know how much I love babies.”
“He is not her nephew,” Pendleton, growing frustrated again, almost shouted. “He’s mine. And I’m the one who’s going to make sure he is properly raised. I don’t know what you’re planning with this guy, Leslie, but I’m not giving up. I’m filing for custody of my nephew, and if you think I’m just going to let you get away with—”
“Crystal left this baby in my care,” Leslie broke in heatedly. “Her will made it very clear how she felt about that. You don’t care about Kenny. You just can’t stand it that I’m the one Crystal trusted to raise him.”
Pendleton opened his mouth to argue, but before he could speak, Nina handed Tom the pie plate and moved toward Pendleton with a smile and an outstretched hand. “Forgive me. I’ve been terribly rude by not introducing myself. I’m Nina Lowery. And you are...?”
Tom wasn’t surprised when Pendleton closed his mouth, cleared his throat, then took Nina’s hand and managed a fairly polite expression. Nina had a way of slipping past any guy’s guard.
“I’m Steve Pendleton,” he answered just a bit stiffly. “Kenny’s uncle. I’m sorry I raised my voice, Mrs. Lowery, but that baby is my late sister’s child and I have a responsibility to make sure that he will be brought up in the right environment. I don’t know anything about this sudden engagement between Leslie and your son, but it’s going to take more than that to make me just go away and forget about my nephew.”
“Sudden engagement?” Nina repeated.
Tom stiffened, as did Leslie at his side.
Nina laughed. “I would hardly call it sudden,” she went on smoothly. “My Tommy’s been head over heels for Leslie, for almost two years now. They make such an attractive couple, don’t they?”
“Er—”
Nina patted Pendleton’s arm. “And of course you’re concerned about your little nephew. I think it’s admirable that you care so much about his welfare, and I’m sure Leslie and Tom understand how you must feel. Perhaps tomorrow, after everyone’s had a good night’s rest, you can all sit down and talk about what would be best for little Kenny’s future. Do you have a place to stay tonight, Mr. Pendleton?”
“No, I, um—”
“There are several excellent inns not far from here. I’ll be passing one of them on my way home. Would you like to follow me in your car? That’s much easier than trying to give directions.”
“Well, I—”
The baby stirred and began to fret.
“He’s hungry,” Leslie said. “He wants his bottle and bed.”
“Of course he does, poor little darling,” Nina cooed, stroking the baby’s flailing fist. “We’ll leave you to take care of him now.”
She moved toward Pendleton, who was staring at her as if trying to decide whether she was putting him on. And then she stopped and clapped her hands.
“Why don’t you all come to my apartment for lunch tomorrow?” she asked as though on impulse. “We’ll have a nice long talk so we can all get to know one another better.”
“Oh, no, we can’t—” Leslie began.
“But I—” Pendleton blurted at the same time.
“That’s a great idea, Mom,” Tom said, overriding both of them. “We’ll enjoy your cooking and talk about Kenny’s future.”
“Fine.” Smiling almost smugly, Nina nodded. “I’ll give Mr. Pendleton directions to my place on the way to our cars. Shall we say twelve-thirty?”
“We’ll be there,” Tom agreed, holding the pie plate in his left hand and sliding his right arm possessively around Leslie’s shoulders.
Giving each other glowering looks, Leslie and Pendleton nodded reluctantly, apparently conceding defeat. For the moment.
Nina sent Tom a glance that spoke volumes. “Good night, dear. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
They certainly would. Tom could already hear the dozens of questions she was going to have for him at the first opportunity. “Good night, Mom. Thanks for the pie.” And everything else, he added silently.
“You’re welcome. I made one for my bridge club tonight, and I decided to make an extra pie for you while I was baking. I had planned to bring it to you earlier, but I ran out of time. You share it with Leslie, you hear? And happy Valentine’s Day to you both, by the way,” she added.
Looking as though he wasn’t quite sure what had happened during the past few minutes, Pendleton allowed Nina, still chattering brightly, to usher him out the door. Tom and Leslie were left alone with the now crying baby.
Leslie patted Kenny’s back ineffectually. She had to raise her voice slightly to be heard above his wails. “Tom, I—”
The telephone rang, adding to the din.
Tom massaged his aching forehead and nodded toward the kitchen. “You feed the baby. I’ll answer that. We’ll talk later.”
With a faint exhale, Leslie turned to comply. Tom set the pie on the coffee table and picked up the phone, wondering what could possibly happen next. “Hello?”
“Tom, it’s Chris. Are you okay?”
He winced. Great. Just what he needed. “I’m fine, Chris. Why do you ask?”
“Well, you left the party so early. Everyone was sort of worried about you. Your back isn’t hurting or anything, is it?”
No more than usual, he could have told her, but he simply replied, “No, really. I’m fine. Just a bit tired. Long day at the office.”
“Ton of paperwork, huh?” she asked, commiserating.
She knew that Tom would rather walk across hot coals than do paperwork, but since his injuries had permanently sidelined him from active fire-fighting duty, paperwork had become a necessary evil for him. Sometimes he thought the fire marshal’s office had been created specifically to generate more paperwork.
“Yeah.”
“You’re sure you’re feeling okay?”
Only his awareness that Chris was genuinely concerned about him kept Tom from snapping his answer. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Good. Listen, some of us are getting together at Lou’s Grill tomorrow night. I’ve
got a girlfriend coming I’d love for you to meet. Her name’s Pam, and I think the two of you would really hit it off. I was going to tell you about her at the party, but you took off before I had a chance. I’ve already told her about you and she can’t wait to meet you. What do you say?”
“Chris.” He almost groaned her name. What would it take to convince this woman that he did not want her introducing him to every single woman in northwest Arkansas?
“You’ll like her, Tom. She’s very pretty,” Chris said enticingly.
Tom heard Leslie moving around in the kitchen. “Thanks, but I already have a date for tomorrow evening.”
“A date?” Chris sounded skeptical. “With a girl?”
“No, with a horse,” he retorted curtly.
“Someone new?” she persisted, unperturbed by his acerbity and oblivious, as usual, to hints that this was none of her business.
“No. Someone I’ve known a long time. Look, Chris, I—”
“Did I mention that Pam’s a classic-car buff?” Chris broke in breezily. “Loves antique imports. I know she would have loved that MG you used to have. You and she have a lot in common.”
She wasn’t going to give up. Chris Patton, bless her match-making little heart, never gave up. “Chris, I’m involved with someone. Seriously involved,” he said impulsively. “So there’s really no need for you to keep trying to fix me up, okay? I’m not available.”
She laughed. “Sure, Lowery. Nice try. Did I tell you that Pam—”
“Chris. Forget it. There’s someone else. As a matter of fact, she’s here now, so if you’ll excuse me...”
Chris didn’t sound convinced. “What’s her name?”
“Leslie.”
“Leslie? Didn’t you once date someone named Leslie? I’m sure the guys at the station mentioned that name.”
“Right. Same one. We were apart for a while, but we’ve reconciled. And I’d like to get back to her now. So, thank you for calling and good night.”
“Wow. Wait’ll everyone hears about this! This is great, Tom. I can’t wait to meet her.”
His head was beginning to pound in earnest now. He didn’t know what had gotten into him. Why had he told Chris he was back with Leslie? By this time tomorrow, everyone in town would have heard about it, He hadn’t been thinking clearly since he’d come home to find her waiting for him. Since then, everything seemed to have spun out of control.
If he wasn’t careful, he was going to find himself married to Leslie Harden before he knew what hit him. And he certainly didn’t want that to happen...
Did he?
He said good-night again and hung up the phone while Chris was still sputtering questions. And then he looked toward the kitchen, squared his shoulders and started walking in that direction. Might as well get this over with, he thought. And besides, he kept the headache tablets in the kitchen pantry.
Something told him this headache was going to get worse before the night was over.
Leslie had the baby propped against her shoulder for a burp when Tom entered the kitchen. She noted the lines of strain around his eyes and mouth and regretted that she’d put them there.
Darn Steve for showing up tonight before she’d finished her explanations to Tom. Actually, everything was Steve’s fault. Had he not decided to cause such problems for her after his sister’s death, Leslie would not have been forced to turn to Tom at all.
She refused to even consider that Steve’s actions had only provided her an excuse to justify what she’d wanted to do all along.
Tom rummaged in the pantry, found a small plastic bottle and popped the lid. He swallowed two capsules dry, replaced the pill container in the pantry, then opened the refrigerator. “Want anything to drink?” he asked. “I have soda or juice.”
“No, thank you.”
He nodded and pulled out a canned soda for himself, popped the top and tipped his head back for a long drink.
Leslie watched him, emotions swirling inside her. He’d changed since she’d last seen him, but she wasn’t exactly sure how to define the difference. It wasn’t so much in appearance. His dark-blond hair was still full and thick and habitually tousled. He was slim and fit, his shoulders broad beneath a cable-knit oatmeal-colored sweater, narrow hips and long legs snugly encased in denim. She hadn’t forgotten the rich, deep green of his eyes, but the faint lines around them had been carved since she’d left.
So much had happened to her since she’d moved away, and she assumed that there had been changes in his life, as well. And yet, some things hadn’t changed at all. The way her heart quivered when he smiled at her, for example. The way her breath caught in her throat when he turned those all-too-perceptive green eyes her way.
Tom had always had a tendency to conceal his thoughts behind a smile and a deceptively open-looking expression. She had never known exactly how he’d felt about her leaving eighteen months ago, and she didn’t know how he really felt about her reappearance now.
She’d really made a mess of this evening. She’d been so relieved to learn from a telephone directory in a nearby convenience store that Tom’s address was still the same. When he hadn’t answered the doorbell, she’d deliberated for several long minutes about trying the key she’d carried like a good-luck charm on her key ring ever since she’d gone away. But it had been cold out and Kenny had been tired and fussy and she hadn’t known what else to do. It had been a great relief to find that the key still worked.
She hadn’t been there long before Tom returned. She’d left the living room only to wash her hands in the bathroom, where she’d been when Tom had come into the living room and first spotted Kenny. She had been somewhat relieved to see no immediate evidence that another woman spent much time in his house. When she and Tom had been together, her things had somehow gotten scattered all over. It had taken her an entire day to gather them all. She remembered that day as being a particularly difficult one, with Tom concealing his thoughts more than usual behind jokes and repartee, and her trying very hard not to show her own convoluted emotions.
He’d said he wasn’t even seeing anyone now. The relief she’d felt had been immediate and powerful. She had more than half expected to find some other woman’s belongings scattered through his house, some other woman sharing his life and his bed. She hadn’t really known what she would have done had that been the case.
“Looks like he’s asleep again.”
In response to Tom’s comment, Leslie turned her attention to Kenny, who’d fallen asleep on her shoulder. “Poor thing, he’s worn out,” she murmured. “It’s been a long day—for both of us.”
“Where do you want to put him while we talk? Will he be okay on my bed, or will he roll off?”
“He rolls,” she answered. “I’ll strap him back in his carrier for now.”
Tom frowned. “Not the most comfortable place for him to sleep.”
“I have a portable crib in my car, but—”
Tom nodded. “I’ll get it.”
She thought of the limp she’d noticed earlier, and she wondered how badly he’d hurt himself this time. During the months she’d spent with him, he’d been perpetually covered in bumps and bruises from his active and daring life-style. She’d lived in constant fear that his recklessness would one day result in more than minor aches and pains, but he’d laughed off her warnings. Tom and his buddy Zach had seemed to believe they were invulnerable, practically immortal. They’d laughed at danger, if they’d ever even acknowledged its existence. They’d spent their working hours rescuing other people, yet hadn’t hesitated to place themselves in danger, either for work or fun.
“You aren’t feeling well,” she said, glancing at the pantry to remind him that she’d just watched him take the painkillers. “I’ll get it.”
“Leslie.”
The set of his jaw told her that he had just about reached the limits of his patience that evening.
“Give me your keys.”
She reached in her pocket and pulled out the
keys. “It’s the black Lexus at your curb,” she said. “The crib’s in the back seat.”
“What else should I bring in? Do you have everything you need for the baby for now?”
She nodded. “I brought his bag in earlier.” She’d left her own in the car. She hadn’t been quite bold enough to take for granted that she would be spending the night here.
“I’ll be right back,” Tom said.
When he left the room his limp was even more noticeable than it had been earlier.
Feeling worried, weary and guilty, Leslie carried the baby into the living room, where she changed his diaper and refastened his warm sleeper without even rousing him. She’d gotten pretty good at things like that during the past four months. She’d been wholly responsible for this baby since his birth. Crystal had been in no shape to care for him by the time he’d been delivered by cesarean section as soon as he had developed enough to survive. He’d been small, less than five pounds, but healthy, and he’d thrived in Leslie’s care. Just watching her baby had given Crystal a great deal of joy in her last few painful weeks of life, and Leslie would never regret 32 VALENTINE BABY anything she’d done, anything she’d sacrificed for the woman who’d been her sister in spirit.
She wasn’t letting Steve take Kenny away from her. No matter what she had to do to stop him, she thought with renewed determination. Which was why she’d come to Tom. She’d known deep inside that he was the only one who could help her. And somehow she’d known, as well, that he wouldn’t turn her away.
The baby was tucked into the portable crib in the spare bedroom, sleeping soundly, and Tom and Leslie sat at the kitchen table behind cups of coffee and slices of chocolate pie. Tom toyed unenthusiastically with his dessert, and noticed that Leslie wasn’t eating with much more interest, which was, he thought glumly, a terrible waste of a great chocolate pie.
He hadn’t said much after he’d come back in with the crib. Mostly, he’d sat quietly, listening to Leslie as she’d explained how Crystal had shown up sick and five months pregnant on her doorstep in Chicago. Leslie had taken her friend in without question and had then cared for her through the remainder of the pregnancy as cancer had slowly eaten away at Crystal’s body. Leslie had sacrificed her private life and neglected her career during those months and the ones that followed Kenny’s delivery. Crystal had made Leslie promise that she would raise Kenny with love and tolerance and the security that Crystal and Leslie had never had as children.