An Officer, a Baby and a Bride

by Tracy Madison

  “If I’m right about you, then I agree.” Allison straightened her shoulders and gave him the cat-about-to-pounce look he’d seen from Rebecca. “But if I’m wrong, then I’ll stand beside my daughter and fight you every step of the way.”

  “And I’ll fight back.” He started toward his car, thankful he always drove the distance between his apartment in Tacoma, Washington and his parents’ house. Under normal conditions, the drive took less than three hours. Well worth it to have his own transportation at his disposal.

  “Seth?” Allison called after him. “What about your ring?”

  Pausing, he pivoted. Gave it some thought and grinned. “Let it be. If I know Rebecca at all, she won’t be able to leave a diamond ring in her rosebushes.”

  Soft laughter met his ears. “I’d say you know her pretty well.” Allison lifted her hand in a small wave before slipping inside the white Cape Cod–style home that Rebecca lived in.

  In his car, Seth closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He was going to be a father. Rather soon, at that. And he only had six weeks to get everything in order. No. Not even that. He was due back at McChord Air Force Base in three weeks and six days.

  He’d have to work fast.

  Chapter Three

  Rebecca broke her concentration from a client’s financial statements to reach into her desk for her bottle of antacids. Heartburn, along with swollen ankles and sleepless nights, seemed to be a constant nowadays—though her recent bout with insomnia likely had as much to do with seeing Seth on Saturday as it did her daughter’s nightly bursts of activity.

  After chomping down the chalky-tasting tablets, Rebecca rinsed her mouth with a generous swallow from her water bottle. Unease cooled the back of her neck. Today was Tuesday. Three days had passed since her baby shower, and not one sign of Seth. What was he up to? Who was he talking to? And when would he bulldoze into her life again?

  Now that the cat was out of the bag, so to speak, Rebecca preferred to get the forthcoming confrontation out of the way sooner rather than later. A long shudder of emotion rippled through her. As her mother, her best friend and even her sister had pointed out once they’d heard all of Rebecca’s explanations, not telling Seth about the baby had been a serious error in judgment. Well, she’d known she was playing with fire all along, hadn’t she?

  Yes.

  But what she couldn’t seem to get across, no matter what words she’d used, was that she felt as if she had no other choice. Every time she’d considered writing Seth that letter, choking fear would settle in and suffocate her until she couldn’t breathe. Her heart would race, her skin would grow clammy and her hands would visibly shake.

  Ultimately, she couldn’t move beyond her panic to do what was right.

  Seth knew the truth now; there was no getting away from that. She had to believe that as long as she didn’t attempt to put up any additional roadblocks, he’d be content to be a distant part of their child’s life. He had a career that demanded a great deal of his attention and time. A career he loved. Based on their correspondence, a career he had no intention of ever giving up.

  All of the same reasons that fueled her fear might also work to her advantage. Yes, she’d worried when faced with Seth’s anger that he might try to take her daughter away. In reality, Seth’s life made it doubtful that he’d go for full custody. He didn’t live in Portland. In all likelihood, his visits would be sporadic and, except for longer leaves here and there, short. Her chances of dealing with him more than four or five times per year seemed extraordinarily low.

  Rebecca took another sip of her water, feeling calmer than she had in days. Once she and Seth spoke again, she’d be able to set the remainder of her worries aside. She’d apologize and assure him that she wouldn’t stand in his way of being a father. Then, all she’d have to do was let Seth’s commitment to his job take him back to the Air Force and away from her.

  A low knock sounded on her door. Knowing that a client would’ve been announced before being sent to her office, she called out, “Come on in.”

  Alan Sloop, the managing partner at Anders, Weinstein and Sloop, PC, stepped inside and immediately yanked his vision upward. Rebecca smothered a laugh. Poor Alan’s discomfort around her had grown at the same rate as her expanding waistline.

  She didn’t understand his nervousness, but Alan was a good boss. Scooting herself as close to her desk as she could—to minimize how much belly showed—she nodded toward a chair. “Perfect timing. I was just thinking I could use a break.”

  Alan settled his spare, bony frame in a chair. “I wanted to talk with you about what your plans are in the coming weeks. Your due date is approaching and the partners thought you might like to make the switch to working half days soon.”

  “I appreciate the offer.” She would love a reduced work schedule—afternoon naps would be pure heaven—but the longer she held on to her entire salary, the better. “However, as we discussed last month, I’ve decided to maintain my full-time schedule until the baby is born.”

  “You’re an important part of this firm, Rebecca.” Alan ran his hand over his receding hairline. “We very much want you to return to us when you’re ready.”

  “I’m planning on returning,” Rebecca assured him.

  “That’s good to hear. I’m sure you know that Mr. Anders is set on retiring next year,” Alan said, blinking rapidly behind his round glasses. “After your…er…maternity leave, we’d like to discuss your future with us, including the possibility of partnership.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. Not yet, anyway. “I would love to discuss the possibility. Becoming partner has always been a goal of mine.”

  “I thought as much. We’d like to support you as much as we can, since you aren’t…don’t have—” Bright red splotches appeared on Alan’s cheeks. “If you were to drop to half days for the last month of your pregnancy, we, of course, will continue paying your salary as normal.”

  Stunned, she gave herself a minute to let her boss’s words sink in. She thought about arguing. Being pregnant did not mean she was an invalid, after all. Plenty of women worked full, busy schedules throughout their entire pregnancies. She was capable of doing the same. But the carrot that Alan dangled beckoned to her.

  It would be nice to have her afternoons free. She could catch up on lost sleep, finish reading the half-dozen baby books she’d started and complete her preparations for her daughter’s arrival. Heck, she hadn’t even begun childproofing yet!

  “Yes,” she said, grabbing for the carrot. “I really appreciate the generosity.”

  “Good. That’s settled.” Alan rose to his feet. “Let’s get together next week to go over your current workload, so we can decide how to best manage your clients’ needs. But what’s most important,” he said with a little cough, “is that you know your place here is secure.”

  Her wonky hormones kicked in, so she dipped her head to hide her watery eyes. “I’m sure you know that means a lot to me. Thank you, Alan.”

  “You’re welcome.” Alan offered her a brief smile. “I have an appointment to prepare for. You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

  She nodded in response. Wow. She’d hoped to be considered for partnership someday, but hadn’t thought that a possibility for years. A sigh slipped out, followed by a yawn. Rebecca closed her eyes and leaned her head against her chair. Mercy, she was tired.

  She might have done the unthinkable and drifted off given a few more minutes when her telephone beeped. “Rebecca?” the receptionist said through the line. “There’s a Jace Foster here. He says he doesn’t have an appointment but hopes you’ll see him.”

  That woke Rebecca up in a hurry. “Is he alone?” she asked. “Or is there another…ah…gentleman with him?”

  “He’s alone,” the receptionist confirmed. “Shall I bring him back or would you prefer if I s
et up an appointment?”

  Why would Jace be here without Seth? “I’ll see him.”

  Struggling to quell her sudden queasiness, Rebecca swallowed another mouthful of water. She’d only met Jace that one time, back in January. While she hadn’t out-and-out lied to him then, she also hadn’t been honest. He was probably here to confront her.

  The receptionist knocked on, and then opened, her office door. Jace entered the room, his six-foot-plus frame dwarfing the already small space. Again, Rebecca was taken aback by the man’s resemblance to Seth.

  He was, maybe, a fraction shorter than Seth, but shared the same eye color, bone structure and broad-shouldered physique as his younger brother. While Seth’s black hair was cropped close to his head, Jace wore his in a longer, shaggier style that spoke of a more relaxed, kicked-back way of life. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Jace was the younger brother.

  “Hey, Rebecca,” Jace said without meeting her eyes. He shoved his thumbs into his jean pockets. “I’m guessing you remember me.”

  “Of course.” Gratified that she sounded cool and calm, she gestured toward the chairs flanking her desk. “Please, sit down. I’m curious what brings you here.”

  He stepped toward the chairs, stopped, glanced between them and the door as if speculating how fast he’d be able to make an escape. “Maybe I should stand. What I have to say won’t take long, and…um…you might feel the urge to do bodily harm when I’m finished.”

  “I already know you told Seth I’m pregnant,” she said in the same cool voice as before. “I can’t really be angry with you for protecting your brother. Please sit. You’ll make me nervous if you continue to lurk.”

  For a nanosecond, she thought he was going to argue. In the end, he gave a loose-limbed shrug and dropped into one of the chairs. “I should probably get right to the point, but first, I need you to promise that you’ll hear me out.”

  Confused and somewhat alarmed, Rebecca pushed a wayward strand of hair off her cheek. “Go on. I’m listening.”

  “Well, it’s like this.” Jace squirmed. “When I guessed you were likely pregnant, and that there was a chance Seth was the father, I made a decision. I wanted to…be kept aware of how you were doing and if you needed anything. I wanted to be there for you in Seth’s absence.”

  “That’s nice,” she admitted cautiously. “Especially given the circumstances.”

  “Exactly! I didn’t think you’d willingly approach me with a problem, but I had to do something,” Jace said with a small cough. “Being a journalist, I have…contacts who help me when I require information. A fee is usually involved.”

  “A fee?” She added two plus two. “Are you saying what I think you are?”

  Jace gripped the arms of his chair. “You have a client by the name of Victor Tosh.”

  “Victor is a private investigator.” Oh, hell no. Yeah, bodily harm sounded pretty dang good at the moment. “You hired him to hire me? To do what…report back to you?”

  “Well, yes. Because you were important to Seth and that made you important to me. But it isn’t as bad as it sounds.” Jace spoke so fast, his words blurred into each other. “Vic didn’t conduct any background searches and he didn’t poke into your private life.”

  She counted to three. “So what did he do?”

  “Confirmed you were pregnant once that became obvious. Kept me updated on your well-being, if you seemed healthy—which you always did,” Jace explained, still speaking fast. “That was about the extent of it, I swear. But it’s important for you to understand—”

  “I think you should leave.” Anger, hot and fierce, roared in. “Before I let my hormones take control and I throw something at your head.”

  Naturally, she wouldn’t. But he didn’t have to know that.

  “Not yet.” Jace smiled a smile that had probably gotten him out of hot water with plenty of women, plenty of times. Too bad for him that it didn’t work on her. “You promised to listen.”

  Rebecca’s gaze landed on her stapler. It was an old-fashioned, metal stapler. Large and heavy. She picked it up, tried to replicate Jace’s smile, and said, “Talk fast.”

  * * *

  Still reeling from Jace’s admission, Rebecca took her time driving home. While she wasn’t happy with what had happened, she recognized that some of the fault rested on her shoulders. If not for her actions, Jace might not have gone to the extent of hiring a private investigator. Equally important: he was her daughter’s uncle.

  Unlike Seth, Jace did live in Portland. Chances were she’d see him far more often than she’d see Seth. So even though it felt an awful lot like caving, she’d accepted Jace’s apology.

  Good and steamed, she waited a full hour after Jace left to contact Victor, who didn’t offer her an apology. That didn’t surprise her. The guy was only doing his job. He sounded contrite, though, and wanted her to continue on as his accountant. She agreed only after he promised to never, under any circumstance, “spy” on her again.

  But that didn’t mean she wasn’t annoyed by the whole mess.

  Within minutes of arriving home, Rebecca changed into a pair of stretchy black maternity pants and an oversize yellow T-shirt. Deciding that a walk was the perfect way to burn off the remnants of her temper and get some exercise, she grabbed her sneakers from the closet.

  Only to discover that she—a twenty-nine-year-old woman—had lost the ability to tie her own shoes. Or rather, she could no longer reach her shoes when they were where they were supposed to be—on her feet. The realization momentarily stunned her.

  Surely, she’d tied these very same shoes less than a week ago, hadn’t she?

  Unwilling to give up on the idea of her walk, Rebecca crouched down and reached for her right shoe…and immediately lost her balance and toppled to the right.

  Great. Pregnancy had turned her into a human Weeble. Except, unlike the toy, she could and would fall if she wasn’t careful.

  She tried her aerobic step next. Raising it to its highest level, she pressed her bottom against the living-room wall, planted one foot on the step, leaned forward and, once again, nearly fell on her face. Fine, then. She’d go about it a different way.

  Rebecca kicked off her sneakers, tied each of them into loose bows, dropped them to the floor and slipped her feet into them. Feeling absolutely victorious, she let herself out of the house into the beautiful afternoon. The still-shining sun warmed her face and the crisp scent of rain lingered in the air, left over from that morning’s unexpected downpour.

  No way was she ruining the loveliness of the day or her walk by thinking of the Foster men, their oversize egos or the diamond ring that resided somewhere in her rosebushes.

  Though that last one was harder. Every time she left and entered her house, she had to stop herself from searching the prickly bushes. And okay, she probably shouldn’t have tossed the ring. Even if Seth’s commanding, I’m-in-charge attitude had ticked her off.

  But leaving something so valuable in a place where anyone—her mailman, a solicitor, anyone—could find and walk off with it rattled her. It shouldn’t. Seth obviously didn’t care, so why should she? Yet, for whatever reason, she did.

  Rebecca swept a cursory glance over the bush as she descended the front porch stairs. Nothing sparkly jumped out at her, so she continued.

  It was a beautiful ring. Simple and elegant, with a traditional princess-cut diamond—not too large, not too small—set in a wide band of shimmering white gold. It was as if Seth had glimpsed into her dreams and chosen the exact right ring for her, which was about as absurd as his proposal. They certainly hadn’t chatted about her sense of style during their weekend.

  A hot flush stole over her cheeks as she turned right on the sidewalk in front of her house. The memory of the woman she was that weekend continued to stun her.

  Maybe it shou
ldn’t. Seth’s letters piqued her curiosity about the man behind them almost as soon as they began writing. And Lord, how she’d looked forward to receiving those letters. To answering them. And while she hadn’t told him about Jesse, she had shared more personal details of her life than she had with any of the other people she corresponded with.

  Doing so had seemed natural.

  And when she’d finally spoken with Seth on the phone, her pulse had jumped and her palms had grown sweaty, as if she were sixteen and the high-school quarterback had asked her to prom. The sound of Seth’s voice had filled her with elation.

  She’d tried to resist the need to meet him, but curiosity and a hunger to see his face won out over practicality. When she walked into the café they’d agreed on, his dark-eyed gaze landed on her and a triple-shot of energy, of intense recognition, turned her stomach on its side.

  No, she shouldn’t be stunned by the woman she was that weekend. But that didn’t mean she had to make sense of it. What happened, happened.

  Keeping her pace leisurely, Rebecca headed toward the elementary school that was located three blocks south from her house. Her daughter would attend that school someday. Most days, Rebecca would probably drop her off on her way into work. But every now and then, they might walk hand in hand down the same path Rebecca was now walking.

  The tightness in her muscles relaxed as she continued, and within a block, her mind cleared. Her hand came to rest on her stomach and when she crossed the street, her thoughts turned to possible names.

  Emily, maybe. She liked Sarah and Hannah, as well. Would Seth want input on their daughter’s name? Dumb question. Of course he would. Knowing her luck, he’d favor something obscure and untraditional, like the sometimes odd names celebrities chose for their children.

  Her stomach tightened with a Braxton Hicks contraction. Any type of physical exercise tended to bring them on, but her doctor said they were harmless. Rebecca paused, let the contraction pass and then started forward again. She’d only taken a few more steps when a far-too-familiar form fell into stride next to her.