Читать книгу: «Her Baby's Hero»
“I’m not moving anywhere.”
“Of course you are. To San Jose with me. How else can I take charge of you and the baby?”
Ashley took a breath. “I don’t need you taking charge. I can handle this on my own.”
Jason stared at her. “I seem to recall that I was in that bed with you.”
A startling heat suffused her at the memory. She looked his way and saw he was remembering, too.
She suppressed erotic images. “I’m prepared to take care of everything.”
“This is my baby as much as yours,” Jason countered. “You expect me to turn my back on it?”
“No, I just…”
Somehow his hand was on her arm, his fingers curling around, his thumb stroking. His focus had returned to her mouth, and if she didn’t break that visual contact, she was certain he’d kiss her….
Dear Reader,
This beautiful month of April we have six very special reads for you, starting with Falling for the Boss by Elizabeth Harbison, this month’s installment in our FAMILY BUSINESS continuity. Watch what happens when two star-crossed high school sweethearts get a second chance—only this time they’re on opposite sides of the boardroom table! Next, bestselling author RaeAnne Thayne pays us a wonderful and emotional visit in Special Edition with her new miniseries, THE COWBOYS OF COLD CREEK. In Light the Stars, the first book in the series, a frazzled single father is shocked to hear that his mother (not to mention babysitter) eloped—with a supposed scam artist. So what is he to do when said scam artist’s lovely daughter turns up on his doorstep? Find out (and don’t miss next month’s book in this series, Dancing in the Moonlight). In Patricia McLinn’s What Are Friends For?, the first in her SEASONS IN A SMALL TOWN duet, a female police officer is reunited—with the guy who got away. Maybe she’ll be able to detain him this time….
Jessica Bird concludes her MOOREHOUSE LEGACY series with From the First, in which Alex Moorehouse finally might get the woman he could never stop wanting. Only problem is, she’s a recent widow—and her late husband was Alex’s best friend. In Karen Sandler’s Her Baby’s Hero, a couple looks for that happy ending even though the second time they meet, she’s six months’ pregnant with his twins! And in The Last Cowboy by Crystal Green, a woman desperate for motherhood learns that “the last cowboy will make you a mother.” But real cowboys don’t exist anymore…or do they?
So enjoy, and don’t forget to come back next month. Everything will be in bloom….
Have fun.
Gail Chasan
Senior Editor
Her Baby’s Hero
Karen Sandler
KAREN SANDLER
first caught the writing bug at age nine when, as a horse-crazy fourth grader, she wrote a poem about a pony named Tony. Many years of hard work later, she sold her first book (and she got that pony—although his name is Ben). She enjoys writing novels, short stories and screenplays and has produced two short films. She lives in Northern California with her husband of twenty-three years and two sons who are busy eating her out of house and home. You can reach Karen at karen@karensandler.net.
To all the kids who are different, who can’t sit still in
class, whose ideas would never fit inside a box.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Epilogue
Prologue
What had she done?
Clutching the covers to her naked body, Ashley Rand stared at Jason Kerrigan’s stony profile and tried to reason through what had just happened. Five minutes ago she was moaning with passion, now she wanted to shrink inside herself as the awkwardness washed over her.
His eyes fixed on the ceiling, he wouldn’t even look at her. Just as well; she wasn’t sure she could meet his gaze herself. They’d come to his apartment to drown their sorrows with a pizza and a couple beers, not jump into bed. Somehow a soothing neck rub had turned into torrid sex with a man she wasn’t even sure she liked half the time.
What now? Did she get up and get dressed, see if the pizza was still edible? Talk to him, make a joke about what they’d just done together?
She shut her eyes, wishing she could vanish and reappear in the ramshackle house she shared with three other women near the UC Berkeley campus. No chance she’d be able to creep into her bedroom unnoticed by her roommates, even at 2:00 a.m. They’d want all the gory details. But she didn’t understand the insanity of this interlude with Jason herself, never mind being able to muster an explanation for the avid audience of her housemates.
She glanced over at Jason again. She still couldn’t wrap her mind around what she was doing in bed with him.
Her friendship with the prickly, straitlaced twenty-eight-year-old grad student had arisen more through happenstance than common interest. They both tutored at-risk kids at a local high school. When Ashley’s finicky VW had broken down, Jason had offered her a ride. He’d all but refused to let her drive herself after that, his stubbornness so exasperating that it was easier just to go along with him.
Without a glance in her direction, he turned on his side, presenting her with his broad back. Her stomach roiled as he shut her out even further.
It had seemed so innocent a couple of hours ago. She’d been hit hard by the news that one of their students, a promising young man they’d been sure was college-bound, had been arrested for drug trafficking. Jason hadn’t betrayed the least emotion when she’d called him at midnight, but he’d been the one to suggest she come over for pizza and beer.
She couldn’t stand the silence anymore; she had to say something. The mortification was killing her.
She tightened her grip on the covers. “Jason—”
He pushed away from her and slid from the bed. In the glow of the small bedside lamp, she got one heart-stopping glance at his gorgeous backside before he yanked the bathroom door open and disappeared inside.
Anger bubbled within her at his brush-off. She wanted to march in there after him and give him a shake.
Or she could just leave. This might be her only chance to escape without confronting Jason at all. It didn’t seem right to simply ignore what had happened between them, but for once, she was perfectly content to take the coward’s way out.
Jumping from the bed, she scrambled through the room, gathering up her skirt and blouse. She found her pantyhose in the kitchen and her sandals in the living room. Within a few minutes, she was dressed and out the door.
As she drove through streets wet with spring rain, she contemplated her next move. Avoid Jason completely the last few months of school? Make light of their lovemaking, as if it hadn’t been the most mind-blowing pleasure she’d ever experienced? Or pretend it had never happened?
She’d decide tomorrow, when she saw him again. Let him take the lead. Stone-hearted Jason would likely go with option three. Fine. She could deal with that.
Even if it hurt.
Chapter One
She wanted to see him.
Jason Kerrigan tightened his grip on the wheel of his silver Mercedes as he headed up Interstate 80 toward Reno. Six months with no contact, then out of the blue a letter from Ashley Rand.
Not a letter. Little more than a note: “I need to talk to you,” neatly penned, followed by her name, address and phone number.
Surely she didn’t want to rehash that night at his apartment in Berkeley—not six months later. It might have been a mistake on a massive scale—never mind how incredible the sex had been—but he figured she’d said it all when she’d walked out without a word.
The tires squealed around another tight curve. He wrestled the car back into his lane as it hit the warning bumps. He’d just passed the town of Marbleville and from the Mercedes’s GPS system, he knew the Hart Valley exit was another seven miles ahead.
What could she possibly want? Was she in some kind of financial bind and needed money? She’d never seemed particularly impressed with his wealth, but necessity could be a strong motivator. If it was money she wanted, this would be a short reunion.
He didn’t have time for this. He should have pressed her harder to tell him what she wanted over the phone, saved him the six-hour round trip. Maybe she thought he’d have a harder time saying no to a loan face-to-face. Obviously, she’d never sat across the table from him in a business negotiation. Few executives in the high-tech industry relished a confrontation with Kerrigan Technology’s youngest CEO.
As a Bay Area native, tiny little backwater towns like Hart Valley weren’t exactly his cup of tea. Too many trees, too much dirt and likely everyone stuck their noses in everyone else’s private lives. No matter what Ashley had to say, he wouldn’t be staying long. He’d brought a change of clothes and his computer—he didn’t go anywhere without his laptop—but he intended to finish his business with Ashley this afternoon and get home before his brother’s bedtime at nine.
He spotted the sign for Hart Valley and pulled onto the exit ramp. A quick glance at the directions and he turned right, toward town. That much closer to Ashley and clearing up whatever she thought was so important he had to drive 170 miles to hear.
Even slowing to twenty-five, he was through the small town of Hart Valley in less than a minute. Which meant he was less than six minutes away from Ashley’s sister’s place, according to the GPS.
It was possible she wouldn’t be there. He hadn’t been able to guarantee he’d drive up this Friday afternoon. “Tentatively,” he’d said, then when he’d called her back to confirm, he’d had to leave a message on her cell’s voice mail.
So what if she wasn’t there? He couldn’t see himself sitting around at her home located in the back of beyond waiting for her. But to turn around and return to San José without seeing her didn’t seem right, either. He’d committed himself to this visit; he’d follow through.
Stoney Creek Road came up quicker than he expected, and he had to hit the brakes to keep from missing the turn. According to the GPS, 2.2 more miles, then he’d arrive at the NJN Ranch. A knot tightened in his chest.
He slowed as the Mercedes’s trip meter counted out 1.8 miles and he watched for the address. This wasn’t like the city, with houses crammed side by side, all of them identified clearly with numbers painted on the front. The few addresses he’d seen along Stoney Creek were scrawled haphazardly on scraps of wood or on fence posts. They didn’t seem to go in any order, either.
Luckily, the ranch had a large wrought-iron sign over the front entrance, the letters NJN prominent enough he couldn’t miss it. As he turned onto the gravel drive, creeping along its bumpy surface, he saw a large, covered arena and a barn on the hill beyond it. He parked beside a silver hatchback and shut off the engine.
He glanced at his watch, then checked his PDA for new e-mail. Even in the few hours he’d been gone, it had piled up, just another reminder that this trip to indulge whatever nonsense Ashley had to share with him pulled him away from more important issues. Like whether Kerrigan Technology’s recovery from its financial woes would continue or if the mistakes his late father had made would take it under.
Dropping the PDA on the seat, he climbed out of the car and by reflex hit the alarm button on his key chain. Taking a look around him at a vista filled with trees and grazing horses, he unlocked the car again.
There was a small house at the far end of the arena, an odd octagonal structure. As he started across the parking area toward it, a woman emerged from the front door, her face, her movements vaguely familiar. His heart rate accelerated, a knee-jerk response to those white-hot moments six months ago. When he got a better look at the woman, though, he realized it wasn’t Ashley after all. Her hair was darker than Ashley’s strawberry-blond and she wasn’t as slender.
“Can I help you?” She gave him a businesslike smile as she shook his hand. “I’m Sara Delacroix, director of the Rescued Hearts Riding School.”
A flicker of motion through the front window of the house distracted him. Was that Ashley?
“Sir?” Sara repeated.
“Sorry.” He kept his gaze on that window. “I’m Jason Kerrigan.”
Sara moved between him and the house. “What can I do for you?” There was an edge to her tone now.
Irritation welled up in him. “She’s expecting me.”
“She’s my sister.” Sara’s hazel eyes narrowed. “She never mentioned you were coming.”
“Is Ashley here?”
Silence stretched as Sara speared him with her gaze. “Just a minute.”
She strode back toward the house and gave the door a peremptory knock before she opened it. Feminine voices drifted toward him, then Sara stepped out and motioned to him. As he walked toward the house, he heard Sara ask, “Do you want me to stay?” then heard a soft no in response.
Sara gave him a dark look as she passed him, and when he glanced at her over his shoulder, she still had her eye on him. He ignored her, starting toward the house.
Sara had left the door slightly ajar, and he started to push it open. He could almost see his long-dead mother wagging a scolding finger at him. Biting back impatience, he knocked and waited.
She had to be just inside, but several seconds dragged by before the door finally moved. When Ashley stepped clear, his world narrowed on that first glimpse of her face.
He’d remembered her as attractive, but her brains had placed her above most of the gorgeous women at school who couldn’t resist the allure of his money. What he hadn’t recalled was the silkiness of that strawberry-blond hair, how enticing her soft brown eyes were.
Then his gaze drifted down, giving in to the impulse to take in all of her. If her face had sent his imagination racing, his first sight of her body stopped it in his tracks. He understood that what she’d called him up here to discuss was far more complex than money.
Ashley Rand was obviously, noticeably, most certainly pregnant. And if he’d learned any math at all back at Stanford and Berkeley, the baby was his.
How could she have thought she’d ever be ready to face Jason Kerrigan again? Standing just across her threshold, he looked even more stiff and formal and coldhearted than she remembered back at Berkeley. His neat, gray polo shirt and impeccably creased charcoal slacks screamed boardroom rather than backwoods ranch. No doubt, dirt wouldn’t dare come to rest on that pristine fabric.
“Hello,” she said, at a loss as to how to muster any other greeting.
He didn’t answer, his gaze fixing for a moment on her face before it dropped again to her six-months-pregnant belly. Under his scrutiny, a nausea kicked up that rivaled her eight weeks of morning sickness. She had to resist the urge to shut the door in his face.
His perfect patrician brow furrowed. “We used a condom.”
She tried to smile, but her face felt too stiff. “Best-laid plans.”
His gaze locked with hers. “Why did it take so damn long to tell me?”
“Everything about that night was a mistake. I wasn’t keen to revisit it.”
His jaw worked. “I still had a right to know.”
She should have called him the moment the test stick turned blue. But sometimes she could hardly believe that night had actually happened, that two near strangers—barely friends—had burned for each other that way. Then, after the ultrasound and Dr. Karpoor’s startling news, she’d needed time to wrap her mind around her predicament, time to get past the panic. It had taken her this long to get up the courage to call.
Even now she was reluctant to share the miracle inside her. “How do you know it’s yours?”
He didn’t even blink. “It’s mine.”
She dug her heels in at his arrogance. “How can you be sure? I wasn’t a virgin.”
He fixed her with his dark eyes. “You might as well have been.”
While she reeled at that bald assessment, he looked past her into the house. “Can I come in?”
Again the impulse surged inside her to shut the door. If she ignored him, maybe he’d leave, then she could pack everything up in her bug and disappear. She certainly had enough experience disappearing.
But things were different now. She started teaching at Hart Valley Elementary in another week, had a classroom full of second-graders to educate. It was what she’d trained for these past several years at Berkeley. Not to mention Sara and her new baby. How could she leave her sister and nephew behind?
He put a foot up on the threshold. “We need to talk about this, Ashley.”
She imagined Jason stepping inside, the small space filled with his presence. Back at Berkeley—until that night—she’d never entertained the least lascivious thought about Jason. But now memories crowded her mind, his skin against hers, his mouth everywhere. The images overwhelmed her. She would be an idiot to allow him into the close quarters of her quirky octagonal house.
She needed a chance to get her head on straight again, to reestablish Jason as the prickly, straitlaced man she recalled from school. Anything else she might be feeling was just hormones and not worth crediting.
Pulling the door shut behind her, she squeezed past him onto the deck of the front porch. “Let’s take a walk.”
He followed her down the porch steps and toward the pasture and paddocks where the horses dozed. As they passed the tack room, she grabbed the brand-new bucket of treats Sara had left there. Before she’d gone more than a step, Jason plucked it out of her hand. “You shouldn’t be carrying anything heavy.”
She tried to take it back. “It can’t be more than five pounds.”
He pulled it out of her reach and read the label. “Five point five.”
She would have wrested it from him, but the last thing she needed was a tug-of-war. Giving up the battle, she continued toward the paddocks. He gestured for her to go first when the walkway narrowed around the corner of the covered arena, and she made sure to keep her distance. Up the hill, the horses had noticed their approach and stood at attention in their paddocks.
In early September, the Sierra foothills still shimmered with heat. The grass on the rolling pasture that had glowed a vivid green in the spring lay drooping and yellowed now. September’s shorter day was a relief, but at four in the afternoon, sunset was still a few hours away.
They arrived at the first gate to the pasture area. He put a hand out to stop her as she reached for the latch. “How far along?”
She bit back her irritation. “You can count as well as I can.”
He pushed open the gate before she could. “Six months, then.” He studied her swollen belly. “You’re pretty big.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
When she reached to shut and latch the gate again, he stood in her way to do it for her. The temptation to give him a poke rose up inside her, but that would mean touching him. She wasn’t touching him. “I’m not an invalid, for heaven’s sake.”
“I know.” His gaze moved from her face down the length of her, and despite her swollen body, she felt a trace of heat in the wake of his scrutiny. She’d heard sometimes women were more easily aroused during pregnancy, but she hadn’t believed it, until now. Maybe rampant prenatal hormones explained the baffling attraction she felt for him.
Not that he wasn’t easy on the eyes. He was as close to beautiful as a man could be, lean but muscular, with high cheekbones and deep brown eyes that had always fascinated her. There were lines bracketing his full mouth that hadn’t been there back at school and a new burden on those broad shoulders. She suspected she knew what weighed him down but wanted to see if he’d bring it up on his own.
One of the horses nickered, then the other five joined in. “They’re waiting,” she said, hand outstretched for the treats.
He pulled them out of reach. “I’ve got them.”
Resolute, she grabbed the handle and tugged, but he wouldn’t relinquish the bucket. They might as well have been a couple of two-year-olds fighting over a toy.
“I can carry it,” she said through gritted teeth.
With his free hand, he loosened her grip. As she lost her purchase on the handle, she tried to hold on to her irritation, but his warm touch distracted her. His fingers enfolded hers and his thumb traced one slow circle on her palm. She felt his arm tense as if he intended to pull her closer.
Then one of the horses called again and he dropped her hand. “Sorry.” Turning on his heel, he strode toward the paddocks. Her heart hammering, Ashley headed up the hill after him.
Once he had the bucket open, she gathered up a handful of treats and walked along the line of horses. As the white pony neatly lifted a treat from her palm, the question that had been burning inside her worked its way out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His dark gaze fixed on her. “Tell you what?”
She wanted to pound her fists on his chest. “About your father.”
Not a speck of emotion in his face. “What would it have mattered?”
“We were friends.”
“We were barely that.”
It was true, wasn’t it? But it cut so deeply. Especially considering the life growing inside her. “But you just left without a word.”
His gaze drifted to the trees beyond the paddocks. “You left first.” He said it matter-of-factly.
“I left your bed that night,” she conceded. “But you left school.”
He pinned her with his gaze, his expression opaque. “I had business to attend to.”
“I had to find out in the newspapers that your father died.” Shock enough that he had left without a word, doubly painful that he hadn’t shared the reason. “If I’d known—”
“What? You might have stayed until morning?”
If she didn’t know better, she’d think it mattered to him. But she knew nothing scratched very deeply beneath Jason’s surface.
Typical Jason to put her on the defensive. “I needed to think things through. We had one kind of relationship and then…” Their passion that night had completely knocked their casual friendship off its tracks. “I thought I’d have time to find you, to talk to you.”
His jaw worked as he looked past her at the pines and cedars beyond the paddocks. “So did I.”
When she’d fed the last horse his second share of treats, she brushed her hands off and started back toward the gate. She didn’t even bother trying to open and close it herself, just waited for Jason to do it for her. With so much unfinished business prickling between them, she didn’t want to add to the tension by fussing over the trivial.
Despite his abrupt departure from school six months ago, she had only to glimpse the rigid determination in his face to realize Jason wouldn’t just vanish from her life today. Likely he’d want some kind of resolution in triplicate detailing every iota of his obligation.
What had she expected? She’d called to invite him here, to inform him she was pregnant because she thought he ought to know. He was here, they’d hash out whatever details they had to hash, then he’d leave again. The sooner she got to it, the sooner he’d go.
Ashley forced a smile. “Would you like something to drink?”
“Are we going to talk about this?”
“Of course.” Her jaw ached from clenching it.
He returned the treats to the tack room as they passed, then continued on with her toward the house. He paused at the porch steps. “It looked octagonal from the front.”
“It was, when Sara lived here.” She moved past him toward the front door. “Then her husband, Keith, added the back bedroom.”
Ashley had originally planned to make that room the nursery, but after the doctor’s bombshell, she’d realized it would be too small. So she’d regretfully given up the larger bedroom, knowing that the nursery would need the bigger space.
Jason followed her into the coolness of the house, his presence as imposing as she’d known it would be. As he took in the comfortable, well-worn sofa and recliner in the living room and the red vinyl chairs and Formica table in the breakfast nook, Ashley edged past him into the small kitchen.
Digging in the refrigerator, she unearthed a can of cola from the back. When she turned to hand it to him, he was right behind her. Her arm brushed against him before she could take a step back.
“Sorry,” he said, although he didn’t move. If she wanted some space, she’d have to make it herself. But his fingers grazed hers as he took the soda can, and she leaned toward him instead of away.
The pop of the can tab jolted her out of her daze. Sidling past him, she headed for the living room, where she’d left the bottle of water she’d been sipping while she and Sara visited. Her throat felt dry as dust.
Jason followed and stationed himself in the middle of the living room. Not sure what to do next, Ashley took a long swallow of water, then stood with the bottle chilling her hands.
His gaze dropped to her belly. She couldn’t blame him. Its size astounded her, too, when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Not exactly what she’d intended for her first year of teaching.
He lifted his gaze to her face. “Six months, Ashley. Why so long?”
“You disappeared. I couldn’t find you.”
“You knew how to contact me.”
She did. As the young CEO of high-flying Kerrigan Technology, Jason wasn’t exactly low profile. “When I found out…I wanted to wait a few weeks, to make sure.”
“And then?”
Then she saw the ultrasound. And for a week she could barely think at all. “You left, Jason. I wasn’t sure what that meant.”
“It didn’t mean anything.”
“And neither did we, is that it?”
“The reason I left had nothing to do with you and me.”
“There was no you and me.” She felt faintly ill, but it had nothing to do with morning sickness. “We both know that.”
He just stared, jaw taut. “I had to handle my father’s estate. Things were complicated.”
She waited for more, but it seemed that was all he was willing to reveal. “So where do we go from here?”
He took a drink of his soda. “How long will it take you to pack?”
Of all the questions she might have expected, that wasn’t one of them. “Pack?”
“You’ll only need enough to tide you over for a week or so. I can send movers to pick up the rest.”
A string of memories flooded her mind—Sara coming home in a panic, dragging Ashley along as they packed up everything they owned. Piling it all in the car and racing out into the night, a day away from danger or only an hour.
But those times were over. “I’m not moving anywhere.”
“Of course you are. To San José with me.”
“No. I live here.”
“How else can I take charge of you and the baby?”
She took a breath. “I don’t need you taking charge.”
His hand tightened on the soda can, bending it slightly. “What the hell does that mean?”
“I can handle this on my own.”
He stared at her as if she’d sprouted a second head. “I seem to recall I was in that bed with you.”
A startling heat suffused her at the memory—his body over hers, his mouth, his hands touching her everywhere. She chanced a look his way and saw he was remembering, too. His brown eyes darkened, nearly black as his gaze dropped to her mouth.
She suppressed the erotic images. “I’m prepared to take care of everything.”
He took a step toward her. “I’m just as responsible for this child as you are.”
She should have backed away, but she held her ground. “You don’t have to be.”
“Of course I do!” Another step closer. “This is my baby just as much as yours. You expect me to turn my back on it?”
“No, I just…”
Somehow his hand was on her arm, his fingers curling around, his thumb stroking. His focus had returned to her mouth, and she was certain if she didn’t break that visual contact, he’d kiss her.
She backed out of reach. “You’re right. You need to be involved.”
“Then you’ll come to San José.”
“Absolutely not.”
He flung his arms out in frustration, sending soda spurting. Slamming the can on a side table, he rounded on her. “My house is twenty times this size. The medical care in the Bay Area is head and shoulders above anything this Podunk town can offer.”
She shook her head. “This is my home.”
He started to reach for her, then dropped his hands. “Be reasonable, Ashley.”
Irritation bubbled up inside her. “I have family here, a job that starts a week from Monday. I’m not uprooting myself for you.”
“What about for the baby?”
“We’ll be fine here.”
“I’m responsible.” Raking a hand through his dark-blond hair, he paced away, then turned back toward her. “For both of you.”
“I can’t leave, Jason.”
He paced away again, toward the kitchen and back, agitation tightening his shoulders. So many other men would have been thrilled to be let off the hook so easily, but from the little that Ashley had learned about Jason those months at Berkeley, duty wasn’t something he could easily let go.
He confronted her again, determination settling in his face. “Then I’ll stay here.”
“What?” She shook her head in confusion. “Where?”
“If you won’t come to San José—” his hands squeezed briefly into fists, then relaxed “—then I’m staying here, in Hart Valley.”
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