Baby by Design

by Paula Detmer Riggs

  Both she and Morgan leapt to their feet. In spite of the fatigue lining his face, Case was grinning from ear to ear.

  "How's Prudy?" Raine asked, precariously close to bursting into tears of relief.

  "Wonderful!" Case exclaimed softly, before a rueful look took over his face. "And telling anyone who'll listen that she's never going to let me near her with 'that big thing' again."

  Raine giggled, even as tears trembled on her lashes. "Oh, Case, you know she didn't mean it."

  He grinned. "God, I hope not," he said fervently before laying a gentle hand on his daughter's back. "Hey, tootles, wake up. You have a new baby sister just waiting to meet you."

  Chloe opened her eyes and looked around, still half-asleep. When her gaze lit her on father, she offered him a drowsy smile.

  "Go night-night home. Daddy?"

  "Not yet, love," Case said gently as he transferred her warm, sweet body from Morgan's arms to his. "Mommy sent me out to find you because she needs a special hug and kiss from her big girl."

  Chloe's eyes lit up. "Go see Mommy?"

  "And your new little sister, Lily Angelina." Case kissed her cheek, then tucked her securely against his shoulder and turned his attention to the other two in the room.

  "Prudy gave me strict orders that you two are not to haul ass out of here before you get a glimpse of the newest Randolph beauty."

  "Bet she used just those words, too," Morgan drawled with a grin.

  Case shot him a look. "Damn straight." He took a breath, then taking care to keep from jostling Chloe, stuck out his hand. "Thanks for putting up with a half-crazed expectant father."

  "No problem," Morgan answered as he and Case exchanged a hard, fast handshake.

  "You, too, neighbor," Case said, leaning forward to kiss Raine's cheek.

  "My pleasure," she replied, far too aware that Morgan was watching her with eyes that held absolutely no expression beyond a distant courtesy.

  "Sounds like this party's getting pretty rowdy," Luke Jarrod commented from the doorway. He was still wearing scrubs and his face was lined with exhaustion. "You guys celebrating something special or just raising hell in general?"

  "Both," Case said, grinning again.

  "Have to say you did okay tonight, Randolph," Luke said, winking at Raine. "For a minute or two there, I thought we were gonna lose you under the table."

  "Like hell," Case growled, his face turning red. "I was just catching my breath."

  "That's what they all say," Luke retorted before shifting his gaze to Morgan. "How about you, Paxton? Think you'll be able to stay the course?"

  Raine sensed, rather than saw Morgan stiffen. "Guess we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?"

  Luke narrowed his gaze. "Yeah, I guess we will at that."

  Raine felt tension swirling around the little room and forced a smile. "Luke, is Prudy well enough to have visitors now, or should I wait until tomorrow?"

  Luke's harsh features softened as his gaze rested on her face. "Ten minutes won't do her any harm."

  Raine glanced over her shoulder, her gaze locking with Morgan's. "You go ahead," he said with a polite smile. "I'll wait here."

  She nodded and quickly left the small room. Her sandals sounded strangely hollow on the linoleum as she made her way to the last room on the left. Decorated in muted pastels, the room was both soothing and homey. A small boom box next to the bed played Mozart, and the lights were turned low. A small padded crib was nearby, along with a bower of flowers.

  Reclining against the raised head of the bed, Prudy looked both tired and exultant, with her tiny daughter cradled in her arms. Wrapped in a fuzzy pink and white blanket, the baby looked no bigger than a kitten. Wisps of dark hair were visible beneath the stocking cap pulled over her perfect little ears. Her eyes were squeezed shut, revealing feathery dark lashes.

  "Isn't she the most perfect baby you ever saw?" Prudy whispered when Raine approached the bed. "Feel free to gush."

  "Absolutely the sweetest little girl I've ever seen," Raine pronounced solemnly as she gazed into the mottled, wrinkled face that only a mother would find beautiful.

  "How did Chloe take the news that she's now a big sister?" Prudy asked, her gaze bathing her daughter's small face with love.

  "Very calmly, probably because Case had to wake her up to tell her."

  Prudy smiled and lifted her gaze. "Just think, Raine. In just a few weeks you'll be holding your own babies."

  Raine smiled, but the sudden lump in her throat made it difficult to speak. "Seeing you makes it all more real, somehow."

  "Wait until you see me walking," Prudy said with a grimace. "Talk about real."

  "Was it bad?" Raine couldn't help asking.

  "Now that it's over, no. But when I was going through it, I was sure it would never end." Her expression softened. "Case was truly wonderful. I can't imagine what it would have been like without him."

  Unbearably lonely, Raine wanted to tell her. Instead, she lavishly praised both mother and baby once more before taking her leave.

  She passed Case and a now-chattering Chloe in the corridor and stopped to offer her effusive compliments, which he accepted without any modesty at all. And then she was alone with Morgan.

  "Miss America?" he asked, lifting one eyebrow.

  Raine smiled. "A cinch."

  His mouth slanted into a tired grin, but his eyes were sad. For an instant she'd sensed a terrible loneliness in this big, self-contained man. It was like a glimpse into his soul. Guilt stabbed at her.

  "Why don't you go see for yourself?" she suggested softly. "You're part of the family now."

  He shook his head. "I called a cab," he said quietly. "It should be out front by the time we get to the lobby."

  They went downstairs together, alone in the starkly sterile elevator.

  The cab was waiting, and they rode home in silence. Raine thought she dozed, though she wasn't sure. Her head was fuzzy and her back was one burning ache by the time she went to bed.

  Morgan took a quick shower before joining her. She wanted to apologize, but she was too tired to be coherent. Tomorrow, she thought, as he draped one arm over her swollen body and cuddled her close.

  She woke up to find Morgan's side of the bed empty and cold.

  Feeling uneasy and just a little queasy, she awkwardly maneuvered herself out of bed and went into the bathroom. She was beginning to waddle, she realized with a pang. And her center of gravity had shifted, seemingly overnight.

  "Hell's bells," she muttered when she caught sight of her puffy face in the mirror over the sink. Maybe it was just as well she couldn't bear more children, she thought before she resolutely banished the self-pity to some dark hole in her psyche.

  A long, hot shower took the edge off of her bad mood, and a cup of herbal tea soothed her stomach. Monday was her usual day off, so she decided to treat herself to another cup before she dressed. Besides, she had nothing better to do.

  Morgan had left the house to run errands. Or so said the note she'd found tucked under the coffee mug he'd left for her on the counter. Carrying her mug with her, she unlocked the kitchen door and wandered outside onto the porch, seeking the sun.

  It was a perfect day. Warm, but with a delicate haze softening the worst of the sun's rays. The climbing rose she'd transplanted from her mother's garden in Salem was in full bloom, forming a fragrant screen on one side of the porch. A smile touched her lips as she watched an industrious bee flitting from blossom to blossom.

  Reaching out a hand, she plucked a perfect bud and carried it to her nose. The petals were whisper soft and scented with nectar. She thought about the sad yellow roses that Morgan had handed her that first day. They'd seemed so puny in his big hand.

  It was only the second time she received flowers from her husband. The first was right after Mike's birth. Two dozen red roses with the longest stems she'd ever seen. They'd been faded and forlorn by the time he'd made it home. And she'd never forgiven him for arriving late, she thought sud
denly.

  Like a squirrel storing away nuts, she'd stored her resentment in a safe place, ready to be hauled out again when she needed it. Over the years she'd added more hurts and resentments to her private store. Missed holidays. Lonely winter nights spent huddled in her bed while the clock ticked away her life. Her son's stifled sobs.

  She'd kept them all, nourishing them with the terrible grief she'd felt when Mike had died. Late again, her father had said.

  Funny how that man was never around in the rough patches. Almost too convenient.

  People commended her on her strength and her courage at handling it all alone. What a strain it must be raising a "difficult" child without a father's steady presence. If she made a mistake, who could blame her? She was doing the best she could, wasn't she?

  Even her father had expressed his admiration for her grit.

  She'd heard the silent condemnation whenever her friends spoke of Morgan and had said nothing. She'd sat for hours listening to her father speak scathingly of Mike's father without feeling that first pang of conscience.

  What a selfish little weakling she'd been.

  A fool.

  In some deep recess of her mind she'd always known that she carried as much responsibility for the life she'd been leading as he had. But it had been easier to play the martyr. Easier to let Morgan take the risks, and bear the cost. Easier to blame him for her own cowardice.

  She felt a kick and bit her lip. She'd felt so smug when she'd laid out her ground rules.

  Her house. Her babies.

  Her precious grief.

  "Oh, Morgan," she whispered, her heart aching. "What have I done?"

  Morgan clamped his teeth around the foul-tasting cigar and tossed in his hand. "Too rich for me," he muttered, pushing back his chair. His luck at poker hadn't changed. He was still the big loser.

  Tonight, he was playing host in a house that still didn't seem like home, for all his trying. It was a strange feeling.

  Raine and Stacy were at Prudy's. Watching racy videos, Stacy had assured him with a demure smile when she'd dropped Boyd off.

  Luke Jarrod glanced up, his gray eyes questioning. "You feelin' okay, Paxton?"

  "Fine."

  Morgan caught the look that passed between the two doctors and scowled. "Anybody want a beer? I'm buying."

  "Why not?" Boyd said, studying his cards. "I'm not on call and I'm sure as hell not driving."

  "Snag one for me, too," Petrov muttered to Morgan's back as he headed for the kitchen.

  "None for me," Case chimed in. "I'm on night patrol."

  Petrov rolled his eyes. "Hell, Case, you're just bringing that sweet little darling to her mama, not nursing her yourself."

  "Up yours," Case retorted, throwing in his hand to follow Morgan into the kitchen. It had been two weeks since Lily's birth. Since then, Paxton had been wound as tight as he'd ever seen, though the man had been doing a damn good job of hiding it.

  Morgan was standing at the window, shoulders braced, his hands tucked into the back pockets of his jeans, staring out at the night sky when Case entered the kitchen. Case had seen enough suffering in his time to know that his neighbor was hurting. Big-time.

  "Change your mind?" Morgan asked, turning around.

  "Nope. Came to get me some of that motor oil you call coffee."

  Morgan snorted as he strode to the fridge. "Help yourself."

  Case grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured. "Guess you're counting the days now, huh?" he said as he replaced the pot on the warmer.

  "Something like that."

  Case registered the edge in Morgan's voice and considered the warning it conveyed. His cop's instinct told him to back off. He took a sip of coffee and thought about friendship. It wasn't a subject that he knew all that much about. Just enough to sense when a man needed to talk, he decided finally. And listening was one of the things Case did best.

  "Prudy said you missed the big event first time around."

  Morgan's face tightened as he twisted the top off a tall one. "Story of my life."

  "You given any thought to names?"

  Morgan popped the top off another beer. "Names for what?"

  "The twins."

  "Raine has a list. Last I heard, she'd narrowed it down to Matthew and Alexander." He lifted the bottle to his mouth and drained it by half before lowering it again.

  "Good solid names, both of 'em," Case commented, his expression properly thoughtful. "Go well with Paxton, too."

  Morgan's head shot up, and he lasered Case with a narrowed glance. "You got a problem with that?"

  "Nope. Do you?"

  "It's not my call." He hesitated, then added grimly, "I signed a waiver. Raine insisted. I thought I could convince her to change her mind after the kids were born."

  Case raised a brow. "You going through with the divorce after all?"

  "That's not my call, either."

  "So you're giving up?"

  Anger flared briefly in Morgan's eyes. "I'm a realist, Case."

  "What the hell does that mean?"

  "It means I was glad when Raine turned up pregnant all those years ago. It made things simpler. More solid. No matter what, we had a connection. Hell, maybe I even had this subconscious desire to give her my baby so that she'd have to take me, too."

  His expression was savage as he finished the beer. Case took satisfaction in knowing his hunch about Morgan Paxton had been dead-on. The man was a volcano inside.

  "Prudy was pregnant when I married her the second time. She'd had the flu and it messed up her system, but for a while I thought she'd used me for stud service." He glanced down, remembering. "I was pretty raw for a time. Said a lot of things I wish I hadn't. Never thought she'd forgive me, in fact." He glanced up and grinned. "Guess I'm just lucky I picked a lady with a generous heart."

  Morgan reached for the other beer he'd taken from the fridge, then scowled and dropped his hand. "What the hell, love is blind, right?"

  "So the man said. Or was it a woman?"

  "Probably," Morgan muttered as he took another beer from the fridge and twisted off the cap. "Doesn't really matter much, one way or the other since it's nothing more than a fairy tale anyway."

  Case hid a smile. "What is?"

  Morgan looked impatient. "Love. That 'for better or worse' crap." He drew a harsh breath. "Make one mistake and you're screwed. Hell, you're screwed even if she only thinks you made a mistake."

  Case let out a sigh. "If ever a man needed to tie one on—"

  He was interrupted by the sudden ringing of the wall phone. Case was closer, and reached out to answer it.

  "No, this is Paxton's neighbor. Who's this?"

  As he listened to the brusque voice on the other end, Case locked his gaze with Morgan's. The man looked years older than he should. "Hold on a minute, and I'll see if I can track him down."

  Case covered the mouthpiece with his palm before lifting a brow. "Are you at home to some guy named Weinhard?"

  Morgan frowned. "Damn."

  "Want me to tell him you're not here?"

  "No. He'll just call back. Frank's like a bulldog once he gets the scent."

  Case nodded, then did a double take. "Frank Weinhard? As in Francis P. Weinhard, the living legend."

  Morgan looked embarrassed. "He taught me everything I know."

  "Yeah?" Case handed over the phone with a kind of awe.

  "Yeah, and I have a feeling I'm about to get a refresher course in loyalty," Morgan muttered before lifting the phone to his ear.

  Chapter 16

  « ^ »

  Raine surfaced slowly. Something was wrong.

  She struggled to sit up, only to gasp as her stomach muscles twisted into a hard knot. Holding her breath, she waited for the cramp to ease, her heart pounding.

  It wasn't labor. It couldn't be. She had another full month to go. By the calendar and by Luke's own educated guess only two days ago.

  Morgan was already up, just as he'd been every morning since Lily's
birth. He jogged every morning now, claiming a need to exercise. Rain or shine, he made himself do two miles on the path by the river.

  Today it was raining hard enough to rattle the windows. A storm in August. Another indication of the changing weather patterns.

  She started to smile, then sucked in as another cramp seized her. It wasn't bad. Nothing to worry about yet. Still, she made herself check the clock and was surprised to see that it was almost nine. She must have been more tired than she'd thought.

  When ten minutes passed with no more pain, she began to relax. It had been another false alarm. She'd had several in the past week.

  "Good morning."

  She turned to see Morgan standing in the doorway, her favorite mug in his hand and a polite smile on his face. He was dressed in jeans and a pale blue shirt with a button-down collar and long sleeves, folded back to bare his corded forearms. Instead of sneakers, he was wearing boots.

  She felt a pang of worry before she remembered that he always wore his favorite khaki shirt when he traveled. One of his rituals.

  "Good morning." Her voice came out husky. A combination of longing and sleep, she decided. "Finished jogging already?"

  Something flickered in his eyes as he came toward her. "Actually I gave it a miss this morning."

  "Too wet?" she said brightly, desperate for one of those roguish smiles that used to flash so easily.

  "Something like that." He helped her with her pillows, then handed her the mug. She inhaled with greedy pleasure before taking a tiny sip. As usual, it was bitterly strong.

  "How're you feeling?" he asked when she smiled her thanks.

  "Fine. The boys have been pretty quiet all night."

  His smile didn't touch his eyes. "Probably gearing up for a tag-team match this afternoon."

  "Probably."

  Raine scooted sideways, making more room for him to sit. Instead, he rejected her tacit plea and moved to the window. Turning his back, he gazed out at the dreary day. Raine fought down an urge to go to him and gather that stiff, proud body into her arms. If only she hadn't brought up the subject of Mike's death. She told herself it was the stress of being in a hospital again that had made her careless, but she suspected it was more than that. Perhaps she hadn't healed as much as she'd thought.