by Francis Ray
“Now, children,” Grace admonished sternly, her lips twitching. “What will Clair and Henry think of us?”
“That Victoria did the right thing when she asked Kane to marry her,” Clair answered without a moment’s hesitation. Her husband, Henry, not as outspoken as his diminutive wife, smiled in agreement.
This is how it is supposed to be, Madelyn thought. An outpouring of love and affection and warmth. This is what she wanted for her child. Her family might not approve of her single motherhood, but she didn’t doubt they’d love her baby.
“That smile looks good on you,” her father said, looping his arms over the top rail of the corral.
“Sorry, I’ve had a lot on my mind.” They might love the child, but she wasn’t ready to tell them yet.
“Whatever it is, you’ll work it out. And if you can’t, just remember your family loves you, and we’re only a phone call away.”
Slowly she turned and gazed up into the eyes of the first man she had loved. In his eyes she saw love just as great. There would be no interrogation.
She’d have time to work through this by herself. Once again her father had come to her rescue, just as he had so many times when she was growing up with scraped knees, broken bikes, back-stabbing friends, callous boys.
She swallowed the growing lump in her throat. “I’m glad you’re my father.”
“No gladder than I am.” His hand left the rail and circled her shoulders. She leaned into him.
From the corral, Kane caught Matt’s attention. Silent communication passed between them. For now they’d respect their father’s wishes. But if Daniel hurt their baby sister, there wouldn’t be much left of him for their father to worry about.
* * *
In his black truck, Daniel slowly drove into Madelyn’s apartment complex. Catty-corner to her apartment, he backed in tail first, cut the engine, then tossed his aviator sunglasses on the dash. He wasn’t happy about being here, but he hadn’t been able to talk himself out of coming.
When he left—all right, ran from Kane’s ranch—his primary concern had been with putting as much distance as possible between him and temptation. It was only later, as he had time to think on the flight, that he had thought how his abrupt leave-taking might affect her or make her brothers more suspicious.
She had enough to deal with without their butting in. He didn’t delude himself into thinking he had fooled them or gotten them to back off. They were too stubborn and loved their sister too much. He wouldn’t, if he we’re in their place.
Daniel tossed his Stetson onto the seat beside him. Hell, he had been in their place. Even after all these years, the memory still enraged him. LaSalle had been a smooth-talking snake. Daniel had taken great pleasure in pulling his fangs.
A white Lexus with gold mag wheels and gold trim passed in front of his truck and parked in the space in front of Madelyn’s door. Daniel straightened.
The door on the passenger side of the car opened. A jean-clad leg in white sneakers emerged. Moments later the rest of Madelyn appeared, her face wreathed in a smile.
Daniel’s attention shifted to the driver. He finally admitted the other reason he was there, to see her “friend.” He wasn’t pleased.
The other man was of average height and build, and dressed in raw silk black pants and shirt. A diamond glinted in his ear. When he opened the trunk, Daniel noted the heavy gold link bracelet.
Some women liked flashy men. He thought Madelyn had more sense … until she laughed and swatted playfully at the arm of the walking jewelry store. Still laughing, they went inside.
The truck’s motor came to life. He finally admitted the third reason he had come: to know if seeing her helped him with the turmoil he had been going through since his logic had hit him squarely in the face. It had, only not the way he thought.
He should have trusted his first instinct. There was nothing connecting him to Madelyn except white-hot lust. Madelyn didn’t need him, and he wasn’t going to make the mistake again of thinking she did.
* * *
“Thanks again, Sid, for picking me up.”
“No problem. I’ll be here at seven thirty to take you to work,” Sid said, setting her overnight case and garment bag on the couch.
“I appreciate it,” she told him. “They promised to have my car ready by three tomorrow.”
He grunted. “If they don’t, let me know.”
She grinned. Sid had been her neighbor and friend for two years. He’d passed inspection the first time he met Kane and Matt for the simple reason they could see there was nothing romantic happening. And his collard greens, candied yams, and hot-water corn bread were to die for.
The only boy and youngest child of five children, Sid had grown up with a strong protective instinct where women were concerned. His flight-attendant girlfriend, Gloria, was desperately trying to steer him to the altar. But Sid, an insurance adjuster, was having too much fun living the single life.
“You can depend on it,” she finally said.
“See that you do. Hate to run, but the game will be on at six,” he said, striding toward the door. “Sure you don’t want to come over and watch the Sonics outshoot the Mavericks with me?”
“I’m not sure Gloria trusts me,” she told him.
“Her problem. I’m not giving up my friends. Anyway, a relationship won’t work without trust.”
Madelyn’s happy mood deteriorated. “Don’t I know it.”
He paused with the door open, his gaze openly speculative. “Something tells me you’re not talking in generalities.”
She studied the toes of her sneakers. “You’ll be late for the ball toss.”
He crossed back to her. Lean fingers lifted her chin. “Watch yourself, you hear?”
“I hear,” she said, then closed the door after him and leaned against it. She heard. The warning had just come too late.
Chapter 12
Madelyn frowned on passing empty office after empty office Monday morning. She glanced at her watch: seven fifty-two. Usually everyone was at their desk by now. Putting her briefcase away, she peeped into Floyd Cramer’s office. Empty. Dedicated, precise, and punctual to a fault, Floyd arrived at work earlier than anyone and was one of the last to leave.
Her frown deepened. There wasn’t a morning meeting, Madelyn was sure of it—at least she hoped there wasn’t. Her concentration hadn’t been the best the last few weeks.
Hearing faint voices coming from Mr. Sampson’s office, she slowly headed in that direction. Finding everyone crowded around a portable TV in her boss’s office, she wrinkled her nose. If it was Daniel again, she wasn’t staying.
“Good morn—”
Her greeting was shushed. She walked farther into the room. Daniel was hot news, but she couldn’t imagine this type of attention.
“What’s up?” she softly questioned Mr. Sampson.
His gaze remained fixed on the TV screen. “Mr. Osgood is about to make an announcement.”
Madelyn placed her hands on Cassandra’s shoulders and leaned closer. Osgood was CEO of Sinclair, and from all the TV stations and microphones jockeying for position, it had to be big news for the regular broadcast to be interrupted.
A distinguished, gray-haired man stepped to the podium and smiled. There was a collective sigh of relief from more than one person.
“Whatever it is, we’ll still get a paycheck. Osgood rose up from the ranks. He wouldn’t have that ‘cat-ate-the-cream-look’ if he was about to throw us to the wolves,” Floyd announced.
Osgood straightened the mike and began speaking. “Sinclair Petroleum Company, because of its size and savvy, has always been a leader in the energy industry. So it is with great pleasure that I’m unveiling plans to build a two-billion-dollar chemical complex in Singapore, aimed at positioning the company as the low-cost plastics supplier in the booming Asian market.”
“Gee whiz,” muttered Scotty Jones, who quickly received a collective shush.
Osgood continued. “The f
our integrated plants in Singapore will eventually employ as many as one thousand people. The huge complex will produce petrochemicals and basic plastics used in a wide range of consumer products. Product prices are at their highest levels in years, and Asian demand is expected to continue to soar.”
This time no one said a word.
“The state-of-the-art facility will be supplied primarily from an existing Sinclair refinery in Singapore, Sinclair Petroleum Company in Houston, and other soon to be announced regions.” Removing his wire-rimmed glasses, Osgood placed them in his coat pocket. “Questions?”
He was bombarded with them. This time her coworkers weren’t listening. They were too excited about the possibility of going to Singapore. Their excitement reached new heights when Mr. Sampson was called upstairs to a meeting.
When he returned two hours later, the first person he asked to see privately was Madelyn. Rising, she barely acknowledged the thumb’s-up sign from Cassandra. She was too worried about what she would say if he did offer her a position.
Entering Mr. Sampson’s office, she bit her lip and perched on the edge of the chair in front of his desk, “Yes, Mr. Sampson.”
He smiled broadly. “I guess you know what this is about. I don’t mind telling you, this is a coup for me as well.” Leaning forward, he folded his arms on his cluttered desk. “My department has always had a reputation for having the best and the brightest. That’s why I wanted you aboard—that’s why I asked to see you first.”
Madelyn swallowed. The knot remained in her throat and she barely choked out, “Yes, sir.”
“Madelyn, you can take that scared look off your face. I didn’t call you in here first to tell you you weren’t going, but to offer you a position at the Singapore plant.” His smile broadened. “Things are still being worked out, but I can tell you now, I’m putting you up for assistant supervisor.”
This was worse than she imagined. She’d thought it would take another year before getting into management. Only now she wouldn’t be able to accept the position after she had worked so hard.
Leaning back in his chair, he laughed out loud, his blue eyes twinkling. “I see I’ve shocked you. Well, say something so I can get the next person in here.”
Her hand clutching her stomach, she said, “I-I can’t go.”
He snapped forward in his chair. His was smile gone, in its place was an expression of stunned disbelief. “What did you say?”
“I-I can’t go.” Saying it the second time wasn’t any easier. “I’m pregnant and have no plans of marrying the father.” Seeing the shock and disappointment on his face was worse than she’d imagined. “I can’t possibly go, but I thank you for considering me.”
He didn’t say anything but continued to stare at her as if he didn’t recognize her anymore. Taking a deep breath, she forged ahead. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone else.”
“They’re going to know sooner or later,” he finally pointed out gruffly, his hand clenched on a ballpoint pen.
“Does that mean you’re keeping me in your department?”
Tight-lipped, Sampson leaned back in his chair. Leather creaked. “You’re bright, intelligent, hardworking. I’m going to need all the help I can get since they asked for three of my top people. Yours was the first name I gave them.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.” He rocked forward. “Please send Kramer in.”
Leaving, she did as requested, then went straight to the rest room to be alone. She didn’t think she could go through telling anyone else she was pregnant. Certainly not her family. She felt too exposed. Her private sin made public—and it would only get worse.
The next day proved her right. Mr. Sampson, who had always been so warm, seldom acknowledged her unless necessary. Only Cassandra commented.
“He’ll get over your turning him down. I’m glad you did, since I was the last one chosen from our department.”
Madelyn wasn’t so sure. The guilt she thought she had put behind her had risen up again. Even her theater date that night with the irrepressible Felicia couldn’t shake her growing melancholy.
All during the two-act play, she thought of Daniel. His picture in the society page of the Houston Chronicle with a beautiful young woman tore at her soul. It was plain to see he had moved on with his life, a life that didn’t include her and their baby.
She might not be able to imagine a life without Daniel, but he had no difficulty living without her. Somehow she had to do the same.
The next night she made herself go to the monthly church singles Wednesday night potluck dinner. There was always a lot of fun conversation and good food.
It soon became apparent the topic of choice that night was going to be the difficulty of a good woman finding a good man. Of course the men objected to being made the heavies. Where were the good women, they wanted to know.
Unlike usual, Madelyn didn’t get into the middle of the heated discussion. Good was relative. Daniel was a good man, she was a good woman, they had created a life, yet they had no future together. Finding didn’t count if you couldn’t keep him or her.
Tired, she went home early and immediately went to bed. Before falling asleep, her last conscious thought was a wish for her life to be back the way it was.
* * *
Pain, sharp and intense in her stomach, jerked Madelyn from a restless sleep. Gasping, she balled into a knot, her arms circling her waist. Nausea sent her staggering to the bathroom. One hand on the toilet, the other clutching her stomach, she went limp when the twin agonies receded.
Breathing erratically, she tried to stand. Just as she pushed to her knees, a twisting pain in her abdomen sent her down again. In the midst of her torment, a mindless fear emerged.
She was losing the baby.
* * *
Felicia answered the phone on the second ring. The lateness of the call didn’t bother her. She had called Dominique around noon Paris time and she had been out. When her daughter called back, Felicia had been at the club, helping to organize a benefit for literacy. The seven-hour time difference usually worked out well for them since she went to sleep late, and Dominique was an early riser.
“Hello.” Popping a tissue from the holder on the bedside stand, Felicia sat up in bed and wiped away the last traces of the chocolate eclair she had indulged herself in. She frowned.
If this was a bad trans-Atlantic connection, there’d be static, not silence. Reaching for the TV remote, she clicked it off. “Dominique? Is that you?”
Hearing labored breathing, she started to hang up until she heard the word “hurt.” Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she stood. Alarm swept through her.
“Dominique! Dominique, say something,” she shouted. Covering the mouthpiece, she yelled for her son, praying he had come home and she just hadn’t heard him.
“Dominique, honey. It’s mother. Talk to me.”
“I-It’s M-Madelyn,” came the thin, wavery voice.
The panic Felicia felt receded only marginally. “Madelyn, what’s the matter? I can barely hear you.”
“Stomach keeps cramping. I-I don’t know if it’s the baby or not.”
“Are you bleeding?”
“No,” came the thankful answer.
“Don’t worry—I’m on the way.” Disconnecting the call, she dialed her chauffeur and instructed the sleepy-sounding man to bring the car around immediately.
“Where are you going this late?”
Felicia whirled around to see her son in the doorway and almost cried in relief. “Madelyn just called. She’s having stomach cramps. She sounded as if she’s in a lot of pain.”
Terror ripped through Daniel. “Is it the baby?”
With all her heart, Felicia hurt for her son. Fear had done what his stubbornness wouldn’t … allowed him to accept Madelyn’s pregnancy.
Felicia prayed it wasn’t too late. “She’s doesn’t know. She’s not bleeding.”
“I’m going with you,” he said,
grabbing his mother’s arm and heading down the stairs.
* * *
Madelyn and the baby had to be all right. They had to be.
Daniel refused to accept any other possibility. He tried to think of another plausible explanation for her pain, which he might have read about in all the pregnancy manuals he had pored over—yet for the first time in his memory, his calm, concise mind deserted him.
He could form only one thought: They had to be all right.
Daniel felt his mother’s hand holding his, knew she was offering support and comfort, yet he was unable to respond. It was as if he had been dropped in a black hole.
He exited the Mercedes before it stopped. An eternity seemed to pass before Madelyn’s door slowly swung open.
At the first sight of Madelyn, teary and trembling, clutching the doorknob for support, he came hurtling out of the blackness. Panic seized him.
Fear, remorse, guilt plummeted into him from all sides. He couldn’t reach her fast enough, hold her tight enough.
“Honey, it’s going to be all right.”
She buried her face in his chest, her slim body shaking with the force of her sobs. “My baby. My baby.”
“Don’t cry,” he begged. “Our baby is going to be all right. Dr. Scalar’s service says he’s at the hospital with a delivery, and he’ll meet us there.”
Scooping her up in his arms, he rushed back to the car. Felicia held the back door open. Once Daniel and Madelyn were inside, she closed the door and quickly got in front.
Higgins put the luxury automobile into a sharp turn and barreled out of the complex. During his youth he had raced stock cars all over the world. He hadn’t lost the touch. In no time they were on the freeway, and he made excellent time in the light traffic.
Yet not good enough.
“It’s coming again,” Madelyn cried, her fingernails biting into the top of Daniel’s hand.
Feeling utterly useless, Daniel murmured words of comfort, holding her in his lap, wishing he could take the pain himself.
At the emergency room, still holding her in his arms, he hurried through the automatic doors as quickly as possible without jarring her. “She’s pregnant and having severe stomach pain,” he told the first medical-looking person he saw.
