Morgan's Child

by Pamela Browning

  She watched as he retreated, his clothes still wet, his feet still bare. She hadn't even thought to offer him a towel.

  Chapter 5

  Two weeks later Kate opened the kitchen door one afternoon and found a wrathful Gump tapping his foot impatiently on her doorstep. She invited Gump into the sitting room for a visit and listened horror-struck while he poured out a story about being accosted on the dock by a man named Tony Saldone, who pretended to know Kate.

  "He bought me a drink or two in the tavern, and I told him more than you'd want him to know," Gump said mournfully.

  Kate froze while she digested Gump's words. "And then what?" she asked carefully.

  "I realized after a while that I'd made a mistake and told the guy to leave me alone. He rubbed the stubble on his chin and shrugged his shoulders, and then he rambled off along the dock. I wish he'd slipped on a loose board and fallen in the drink," Gump said.

  "There's only one thing this can mean. Morgan Rhett has hired someone to check up on me. He wants to know if there's any chance that someone else could be the father of this baby," Kate said. She should have known that Morgan would be thorough. Still, she was angry, and certainly not with Gump, whose weaknesses at the Merry Lulu were well-known to her.

  "I'm pretty sure I set that fellow straight about that," Gump said, but his face became serious. "What if this Morgan Rhett doesn't take the baby?" he asked.

  "Morgan has to take the baby," Kate said. "He has to."

  Gump was silent for a moment. "Any luck yet in you finding a job?" he asked.

  "How can I expect anyone to hire me after the big flap at Northeast Marine Institute? In case you've forgotten, I testified against my superior in front of Congress, and his position was upheld. My reputation is nil."

  "I didn't think you cared about your reputation," Gump retorted.

  "Scientific reputation is one thing," Kate said. "Personal reputation is another. I couldn't care less what Willadeen Pribble and the rest of those women on the mainland think of me."

  "Not that they ever lack for gossip," Gump said, shaking his head unhappily as he prepared to leave. "Goodbye, Kate. If any more of Morgan's people come calling, I'll clam up."

  "Send them to me, and I'll give them a piece of my mind," Kate said. She folded her arms across her belly as she watched Gump depart, thinking that the person she'd really like to tell off was Morgan Rhett.

  * * *

  At that moment Morgan was pacing back and forth across the floor of his office at Morgan Rhett & Company.

  "So the ferry captain told you that Kate never has male visitors?" he asked Tony Saldone.

  "That's about it," Tony said.

  "And how did you pry that information out of him?" Morgan asked skeptically.

  Tony winked. "A couple of cups of grog at the Merry Lulu Tavern. But when I asked this guy Gump to explain the Sinclair woman's pregnancy, he shut his mouth and said he didn't want to talk about it. Changed the subject, in fact. He started rambling on about Kate's mother and how she left when Kate was nine years old. Said he felt responsible."

  "I know, Kate mentioned that her mother had abandoned her," Morgan said, waving away this extraneous information as if it were a pesky fly in his face.

  "Well, you want to hear a good story, this one's all that and a bag of peanuts. Eloise, Kate's mother, ran off with some guy on a motorcycle and never came back, even after the guy cracked up the bike and killed himself. After that, Eloise departed for Africa and joined some do-gooder health organization."

  "All that is irrelevant. You turned up no dirt on Kate Sinclair?"

  "As far as her personal life is concerned, no dirt—in spades," Tony said with a laugh. "Even though the woman is enormously preggers with no man in sight."

  Morgan rubbed his chin. "How about her professional life?" he asked.

  "Now that's a possibility," he said, leaning forward in his chair. "You told me that Kate nursed her father while he was ill. You said that she'd lived on the island with him for two years."

  "That's what Kate said."

  "The bartender at the Merry Lulu told me that her father had only been sick for about a year before he croaked. What I think we should look into is, why did Kate come home from her job with that big research outfit in Maine long before her father was diagnosed as terminally ill?"

  "Good question." Morgan said. He sat on his chair and stared out at the harbor. Today the water looked almost the exact shade of Kate Sinclair's eyes.

  "So what do I do now?" Tony implored.

  "See what you can find out," Morgan said.

  "Righto. How far do you want me to take this investigation?"

  "Till you can't go any further," Morgan replied.

  "Okay, that wraps it up. I'm off to Google her."

  "Meaning?"

  "I'll find out what I can about Kate Sinclair from the Internet."

  "Fine, Tony. On your way out of my office, pass Go and collect two hundred dollars," Morgan said.

  "Two hund—? My fee's probably going to be considerably more than that before we're through," Tony told him.

  "That's what I figured," Morgan said.

  "Glad to help you out," Tony said jauntily, hustling off to present his bill for services rendered to date.

  Morgan waited until Tony was well down the hall before he opened the middle drawer of his desk and withdrew a manila folder. Inside was a report from the fertility lab, which he read and read again.

  When he had finished, he slid it into his briefcase. It was time to call Bryan Oates, his college fraternity brother. He was sure they could work out a deal of some kind. Morgan considered himself a genius at making deals.

  * * *

  The third week after she went to see Morgan Rhett, Kate began to have nightmares about running up and down deserted streets with a baby in her arms, knocking on doors and asking people if they'd adopt it. The dreams were a reflection of her concern: what if Morgan Rhett refused his own child?

  He won't, Kate thought one day as she pursued her self-appointed chore of picking up litter on the beach. And yet she knew he could. Morgan Rhett, she figured, could do anything he wanted to do.

  She let her head fall back so that the wind blew into her nostrils. Her head filled with the scent of salt and seaweed and little sea creatures, of places far away. She hated picking up the careless leavings of the island's day-trippers and only did it because she couldn't bear to see the pristine beauty of the island marred by trash. At the moment she would have given anything to be back on the Northeast Marine Institute laboratory research vessel. Ah, well, those days were gone forever.

  When she lifted her head again, she saw a figure walking toward her at the high-tide mark, carefully skirting clumps of dried seaweed.

  She stared, determining that it was a man, and not only a man, but a man who was wearing a business suit. Her breath caught in her throat when she realized that there was only one person it could be.

  "Morgan," she whispered, her heart falling to her knees and swooping upward again. She had thought that when the time came he would contact her through the mail. She'd never dreamed he would come back to Yaupon Island.

  He was walking swiftly. She waited. As he drew closer, she realized that he was wearing a gray pin-striped suit and black wing tips, which made her want to burst out laughing. Who else but Morgan Rhett would appear on a beach on Yaupon Island in a getup like that?

  She stood uncertainly, the water lapping at her feet, the trash bag hanging at her side. When he stood directly in front of her, he stopped and stared, his brow slightly furrowed and his lips drawn into a firm line.

  "It's mine," he said without preliminaries. "I'm convinced the baby's mine. Pending DNA testing at a later date, of course."

  "Of course." She stared right back at him. "The fertility lab corroborates everything I told you, right?"

  "Right." His gaze held steady.

  "And how about that detective you sent? Did he confirm that I haven't been entertaining m
en?" She couldn't keep the bitterness out of her voice.

  "I'll adopt the baby, Kate. It's my duty and obligation," he said, neatly evading her question.

  "Well," she replied on a long exhalation of breath. She wanted to slump with relief, but she kept her shoulders squared and her chin up.

  "I want a healthy child. I want you to take care of yourself. I want—"

  "And what Morgan Rhett wants, he gets, right?" Kate said cuttingly.

  "Look, Kate, you've got what you asked for—someone to take this baby. Don't give me a hard time," he shot back.

  Kate turned away and began to walk toward the lighthouse, spearing odd pieces of litter with her stick and giving a wide berth to what looked like a new turtle crawl. She didn't want Morgan to see the sudden stinging tears in her eyes.

  "I'd hoped that you'd love the baby," she said, keeping her head turned away.

  "Love? I told you I had no feeling for it," he said, walking beside her.

  "It's your child," she said in a low voice.

  "My responsibility. I believe in taking care of what's mine. I'll hire a good nanny. I'll see that it grows up with its little cousins—Joanna can provide a maternal touch now and then. The baby will be a Rhett in every sense of the word. It will have a family," he said earnestly.

  Kate remained silent. She had what she wanted from him, but suddenly it wasn't enough. She had grown up without her mother, and it hadn't been easy, but her father's love had made up for her mother's absence. This baby might have a family and all the privileges of growing up a Rhett, but could that make up for a lack of love?

  "I've moved into the hunting lodge at the other end of the island," Morgan said.

  "You what?" Kate said incredulously. This alarming statement crowded all other thoughts from her head.

  "Bryan Oates's family still owns the place, although they seldom use it anymore. He said that I'm welcome to camp out there as long as I want."

  "Why?" Kate said. "Why are you moving here?"

  "To keep an eye on you. You're always tramping around on the trails, leaning over in boats, and getting dunked in the creek. Who knows what you might do next? There's no one around to rescue you if you have a problem. I told you, I want a healthy baby," he said.

  "What about your business?" she asked in a quavering voice.

  "I'll check with my office by phone every day, even though that means going to the mainland to do it. As for my work load, it's light because I was planning on beginning a month's vacation in England soon, but that can wait until after the baby's born."

  She looked at him. He was serious. She couldn't imagine Morgan Rhett living on this island, disturbing her, making problems.

  "You can't go on living here alone," he said.

  "I'm not alone," she said, her voice almost breaking. "I have your little bundle of joy to keep me company."

  "That's exactly the point." Morgan gestured at the litterbag. "Are you sure you should be doing that?"

  She twisted the top of the bag into a knot. "I'm going home," she said.

  "Fine. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

  "No, you won't."

  "I will," Morgan told her. His eyebrows were drawn together in concern, and all at once a flood tide of sensation swept over her. His scent, English and leathery, blended with the salty, sun-dried scent of seaweed, spinning her away into another dimension where senses ruled and good sense did not. For a moment she felt wildly attracted to him, and she didn't want to think of him that way. Morgan was the father of the child she carried within her—period.

  His gaze fell to her stomach. "How much longer do you have before the baby is born?"

  "Eleven weeks," she whispered.

  "Hopefully, you won't exceed your due date. I've always liked England better in the fall, anyway," he said. After a curt nod, he turned and walked away, his wing tips biting holes in the damp sand. He was clearly a man on whose shoulders the habit of command rested comfortably.

  Kate headed back toward the lighthouse, head bowed in thought, litterbag bumping awkwardly against her legs.

  How in the world was she going to survive Morgan Rhett's presence on the island for the next eleven weeks?

  * * *

  Morgan showed up at the keeper's quarters in the bright hot light of early morning and insisted on accompanying Kate on her trip up the creek to take water samples.

  "Why you?" Kate demanded in a tone laced with sarcasm. "Why don't you send that detective friend of yours?"

  "Look, Kate, you have no reason to be angry about that," Morgan said, although he felt guilty about Tony Saldone's ongoing investigation. Tony's online search had turned up a lot of info about Kate's dismissal from the place where she'd formerly worked, and he'd promised a full report eventually. Morgan had told him to lay off for the time being. As far as he was concerned, Kate's employment or lack of it had nothing to do with the immediate question of the baby's paternity.

  "How would you like it if I'd put a private detective on your tail?" Kate was saying, jamming her hat on her head and barging ahead of him down the path to the water.

  "I wouldn't," Morgan said. He hurried after her, hoping to keep the conversation going.

  "After all," she said, "I'd like to know what kind of person you are. This baby shouldn't go to just anybody."

  "You should have thought of that before you informed me that I was the father," Morgan said.

  "Well, I didn't think of it, and I still believe you're the one to raise the baby, but I know nothing about your personal life."

  They'd reached the boat. Morgan shoved it off the creek bank and Kate removed her shoes and socks, wading through the shallows until she was able to climb in.

  "Careful!" Morgan warned, but she ignored him.

  "My personal life is irrelevant," he said calmly, since he'd decided that hers was too. He rowed; Kate busied herself with the water-sample kit.

  "Anyway," he continued, when he'd determined that the only response he was going to get from Kate was a long, withering glance, "I'm through with post-divorce craziness. I admit that I lived on the wild side for a while, taking out all kinds of women, staying up late, going to loud parties. But it's over. I'm thirty-eight and ready to settle down again."

  "I'm glad to hear that," Kate said, but the remark sounded more caustic than she meant it to be.

  "I won't be entertaining women in the house I share with the baby. I don't think it would provide a good atmosphere, and Joanna would read me the riot act if the environment for this child were anything but wholesome."

  Kate's look was skeptical.

  "Well, you were the one who brought up the subject of my personal life," he reminded her. "I am, after all, a very eligible bachelor."

  Was she mistaken, or did she detect a hint of amusement in his voice? Kate stared out over the marsh, able to bear the glare of sun upon water better than the twinkle in Morgan's eyes.

  "This baby may end your eligibility," she said.

  "Don't be silly," Morgan said. "It will make me even more desirable. Women will fall over themselves for the chance to come over and coo at it."

  "This woman couldn't care less about you and other women as long as you're a good father," Kate said.

  "A good father," Morgan mused. He rowed the boat up to the shore and helped Kate out. He slid an arm around her nonexistent waist, but Kate pulled away and splashed through the reeds to shore, where she sat down to put on her shoes and socks.

  "What is a good father?" Morgan said when he had beached the boat.

  Kate thought for a moment. "My dad was wonderful," she said. "He's a shining example of what a father should be, in my opinion." She took the hand that Morgan offered her and pulled herself to a standing position.

  He was right behind her on the path.

  "What was your father like? I only met him once," Morgan said.

  "Dad was the one who set me on the road to my career. It was his dream to become a marine biologist, but it ended when he was seriously injured
while on active duty in the military. He came back to the lighthouse to recuperate and never left."

  "How did he make a living out here on the island?"

  "We lived in the lighthouse rent free, and he had a small inheritance. Anyway, it was Dad who joined in my island adventures, who patiently answered my questions about marl washed in from the offshore reefs, and who helped me return an octopus in distress to the sea after it washed up on shore during a storm," she said.

  "He sounds wonderful," Morgan said.

  Kate stopped to catch her breath in the shade of a palmetto tree. "Dad was an admirer of Jacques Cousteau and of Marc Theroux, the famous marine biologist who did such interesting work in the South Pacific. I admired them, too, of course, but I chose my line of work because of my father's early interest," she said.

  "He must have been proud of you."

  "He was, I think. I wish—" but here she hesitated.

  "Wish what?"

  "Wish that he hadn't been disappointed," she said curtly. And then, before he could ask her further questions, she resumed the climb up the path.

  Morgan followed her, wishing she'd be more forthcoming with information. What motivated her? What brought her happiness? And what, besides his presence, got under her skin?

  "Would you mind taking the samples to Gump so he can get them out in this morning's mail?" she said over her shoulder as they approached the lighthouse.

  "No problem. I have to go to the Merry Lulu for cell phone coverage anyway," said Morgan.

  Kate held the door of the quarters open for Morgan to follow her inside.

  "Are you going to be doing anything this afternoon?" Morgan asked.

  "It's no business of yours," Kate said, turning away to print the label. She had noticed a sprig of dark curly hair rising above the placket of his polo shirt, distracting her when she'd rather ignore him. A man doesn't have the right to be so handsome, she thought.

  "If you had an accident, who would save you?"

  Kate sighed. "You would, because you're going to be at my heels every minute, aren't you?"

  "Yes," he said soberly. "I am."

  "I want this baby to be healthy as much as you do," she pointed out.