"She'll have to get used to not always going along. She'll be going to a day-care center or a baby-sitter. I would really prefer a day-care center, so that she'll have a lot of other kids to play with. I really think she needs that kind of exposure. She's never really been around kids, but it's something she needs to do, so it'll be easier for her when she starts school, or when she has a younger brother or sister—" Once again her voice faded away.
Daniel slowly walked to the fireplace, stopping a few feet in front of them. All Sarah could see without raising her head were his bare feet and the creased denim of his jeans. "Are you planning to have another baby?" he asked, the sharp edges of his voice softened by caution.
She avoided looking at him. "I, uh…" She removed Katie's diaper and folded the sides together, neatly resticking the tapes. "Can we talk about this later, Daniel? I really need to get going."
"Sarah—"
"Later, please?" Without pausing, she rushed on. "Come on, Katie, let's get you dressed so I can take a shower and get myself ready. Don't forget my things from the farmhouse, Daniel."
With a flash of bare legs under her robe, she was up and gone, Katie toddling along at her side. Daniel remained where he was, staring at the place where she had been. Oh, they would talk about it later, all right. If she had any ideas at all about getting pregnant with another man's baby, she could be damn sure they would talk about it later.
The blue dress was fine wool, well made and came from one of Nashville's better stores, but none of that changed the fact that it was plain, Sarah thought woefully, studying herself in the bathroom mirror. On a day when she needed to cloak herself in confidence, all she had was this plain blue dress. She gave a sigh and straightened the thin matching belt at her waist. Well, it was all she had, so it had to do.
Daniel glanced up from his game with Katie when she came down the stairs. For a moment his expression was blank as he took in his first view of Sarah dressed the way she must have often looked for her husband—in expensive clothing, her hair sleekly combed, her battered tennis shoes replaced with low-heeled leather pumps that flattered her slender legs.
Then he smiled. "You are pretty."
It was a reaffirmation of what he'd told her earlier that morning—plain and simple and just what she needed to hear. "Thank you. Want to wish me luck?"
No. But he kept the word inside. "You'll find what you need." But not in town. Here, with him and Katie—that was all she would ever need. He would make sure of that.
He rose from the floor and helped Katie with her jacket. The only jacket Sarah had was his, he realized, and she certainly couldn't wear that with such a pretty dress. "Why don't you take my truck?" At least he could see that the cab was warm for her.
She gave a shake of her head. "My car's fine."
One raised eyebrow showed his opinion of that statement quite clearly. "Then wait here and let me go get it."
Her grin was quick and broad. "Your long legs probably wouldn't fit in my little car. I'll be fine, Daniel."
He wasn't convinced, but he let the subject drop. He took the denim jacket from the coatrack and draped it over her shoulders. "At least until you get to town," he insisted when she started to protest.
He drove her to the farmhouse and walked over to the small yellow car with her. It took several tries to start it, and Sarah saw his eyes roll upward just as the engine caught.
"I wish you'd take—"
She cut off his words. "I'll be back after lunch." He started to speak, but just shook his head instead. "Do you need anything from town?"
"No." He ducked his head to kiss her. "Be careful."
"I will." She watched in the rearview mirror as he returned to the truck and climbed inside. He hadn't wished her good luck, she realized, not now and not even at the house when she'd asked him to. Maybe he didn't want her to find a job in Sweetwater. Maybe he wanted her to stay here with him. Then she smiled a little bit sadly. Or maybe he wanted her far away.
They had seven more days. Next Thursday would be the first, and she and Katie had to have someplace to go, some way to live. Seven more days, and what happened after that was Daniel's choice.
The small complex that housed the Sweetwater schools was Sarah's first stop, where she received directions to the administrator's office. Janet Hillier was a stern-looking gray-haired woman who reminded Sarah of a drill sergeant—always in control, tough but fair. She looked over the résumé Sarah had typed before leaving Nashville, then raised sharp blue eyes to give her the same thorough study. "You graduated from Tennessee State."
Sarah nodded.
"And you taught for six years." Again she nodded. "Why did you quit?"
She had been expecting this question, but she hadn't yet found the proper answer. She settled on the least innocuous. "Personal problems."
Mrs. Hillier wasn't impressed with the response. "I assume they've been resolved?" she asked dryly.
"Yes."
She read through the résumé again, then folded her hands on top of it. "We do have a teacher who will be quitting in early spring to have a baby. She teaches the fourth grade, but that would be no problem. However … may I be frank with you, Miss Lawson?"
Suspecting what was coming, Sarah managed only an uneasy nod.
"Sweetwater is a close community. Everyone knows everyone else's business." She paused for a moment. "It's also an old-fashioned community, Miss Lawson. We don't have the problems that schools in larger towns and cities have—the alcohol, the drugs, the bad behavior."
And the pregnancies—that was one the woman had left out. Sarah clenched her hands tightly together. If they didn't tolerate alcohol, drugs or pregnancies from their students, they certainly wouldn't tolerate any of the three from their teachers.
"Although your credentials are impeccable and your record shows the kind of stability we look for, frankly, Miss Lawson, I don't think I could get you approved by the board. The people here live by different standards than they do in the city. They have different values. That's largely why they live here—because they can raise their children in a wholesome, family-oriented environment."
"I see." Sarah's voice was cool and calm and the slightest bit unsteady. "And my daughter and I are short one member of the family to qualify."
"If Daniel lived elsewhere—"
Sarah bit back a bitter laugh. They really did know everyone else's business here.
"We could probably work something out. But he's a member of our own community. That makes a difference." Mrs. Hillier was silent for a moment, then she cautiously asked, "Is there any chance that you and Daniel will get married?"
Sarah got to her feet. "He doesn't want to get married," she replied honestly. "Thank you for your time, Mrs. Hillier."
"You might check over at the Baptist church," the older woman suggested. "They want to start a preschool program, and they're looking for someone to help with it."
"If the school won't have me," Sarah said with grim amusement, "the church certainly won't. But thanks, anyway."
"If anything changes…"
If Daniel married her. If she became respectable. The grimness moving into her eyes, Sarah murmured thanks once more, then left the office.
Back on Main Street
, she picked up a copy of the newspaper and found a grand total of two help-wanted ads—one for the church, one specifying a man for the local feed and grain—along with one ad for a garage apartment for rent. Since it was her only other choice, why not see how a pastor justified rejecting her because of her illegitimate daughter? she decided.
He was very nice about it … and very adamant. "The church board made it clear that they want to hire either a mother or a single woman," he explained.
Sarah smiled wearily. "I fit on both counts, Reverend. I'm single, and I'm the mother of a fourteen-month-old girl."
"Well, yes, but—"
But she was an unmarried mother. She wasn't respectable.
She didn't waste any more of his time.
At the first pay phone she came to, she called about the apartment and announced up front that she wasn't married and had a young daughter. The apartment was no longer available, the woman responded and hung up the phone.
After stuffing the newspaper in a trash bin, Sarah walked down the street until she reached the diner. It was still early for lunch, she acknowledged, but at least that meant she could eat in peace while she considered her next move.
The waitress gave her a long, critical look before slapping the menu down on the table in front of her. "Do you want coffee?" she asked ungraciously, the tone of her voice as critical as her look.
Maybe it had been a bad day for her, Sarah thought, or maybe she—like everyone else Sarah had had contact with today—didn't like immoral young women with illegitimate daughters. Or maybe, she thought with a sigh, she was simply reading too much into the waitress's unfriendly attitude.
"No, thanks." Sarah gave the plastic-coated menu a quick glance, then handed it back. "A chicken salad sandwich and iced tea, please."
The woman wrote the order on her pad, then tucked the pencil behind her ear. She studied Sarah for a moment longer before giving a shake of her head and turning away.
Sarah was shaking her own head in dismay when a pleasantly familiar voice asked, "Mind if I join you?"
It was Zachary Adams, dressed in faded jeans, a corduroy jacket and a blue-plaid shirt. She supposed the tie knotted loosely beneath the collar of the shirt made the outfit suitable office attire in Sweetwater. "Be my guest."
"Give me a roast beef sandwich and a Coke, Marcy," he called to the waitress as he slid into the booth opposite Sarah.
"Are you here alone?" He had expected to see Daniel today, not Sarah. It was just as well, though, because the report from the private detective hadn't yet arrived.
"Yeah. Daniel and Katie are at home. I've been job and house-hunting."
"Any luck?"
"Yeah—all bad." She waited until the waitress served their drinks before leaning forward. "Tell me, Zachary, has anyone in this town ever had an illegitimate child?"
"Not since my great-great-grandmother." He grinned boyishly. "They almost ran her out of town. But that was a long time ago, and all the Adamses since then have been totally respectable, so they've forgiven us."
Sarah didn't know whether to believe him or not, but at least he made her smile for a moment. Then she remembered her own situation and sighed. "They don't even know me, but they're not going to forgive me. The school has a position opening in the spring, but they can't hire an unwed mother. The church wants to start a preschool program, but they don't want an unwed mother, either. The landlady of the one apartment listed in the paper suddenly remembered that it wasn't available when I told her that I was single and had a baby. Even the waitress here acted as if she didn't want to serve me."
"Well, that's a different matter." Considering it, he frowned. "Maybe I should say it's a different side of the same matter. You see, Marcy wants to get married again."
"So?"
"There are three men in town who are single, over twenty and under sixty: Daniel, Terry Simmons and me. Now … Marcy doesn't like me and never has, and Terry is her ex-husband."
Sarah felt a distinct curl of jealousy in her stomach. "If she wants Daniel, why hasn't she gone after him?"
"She has, but it's kind of tough when he usually only comes into town once or twice a month. He's been showing up a lot lately, but you're usually with him, and I imagine that cramps her style a bit."
Sarah turned to look at the waitress again. She was in her early thirties, kind of pretty, and a lot shapelier under the tight pink uniform than Sarah herself was. Looking back at Zachary, she asked, "And what does Daniel think of her?"
He grinned at the unfamiliar edge in her voice. "If Daniel wanted her, Sarah, he wouldn't be spending all his time on the mountain with you. I assume you two are spending a lot of time together."
She met his gaze for a long solemn moment. "He's been letting me see Katie."
"Uh-huh." Zachary leaned back when the waitress served their lunch. When she was gone, he asked, "If you can't find a job here, what will you do?"
Sarah stirred sugar into her tea, took a bite of her sandwich and shrugged. "I don't know. Try the next town, and the next." She sighed wearily. "You know, the very things that make small-town life so appealing are shutting me out of it—the old-fashioned values, the mores, the close-knit community. I just want a good place close to Daniel to raise our daughter. I want to be able to support her and provide a home for her. But these people act like I should have a scarlet letter tattooed on my forehead."
"It's unfair," Zachary agreed, "but Sweetwater is a small town—one about twenty years out of step. Of course, you could sue for discrimination, but I wouldn't advise it. Even if you won, the town would never accept you."
"You're an attorney. How can you make a living when you never recommend lawsuits?" she asked with a laugh, then, once again, she sobered. "You know what's even more unfair is that this doesn't affect Daniel. The fact that he's got an illegitimate daughter doesn't affect their opinion of him—I'm the one they blame. He was in that bed, too, and he never offered to marry me, but he still comes out of it with his reputation intact."
"Would you have accepted if he had proposed?"
Reluctantly she shook her head. "No, not then."
"But you would now." Zachary spoke quietly, his blue eyes locked on her face. She looked away quickly, but not before he saw the answer in her eyes.
"You know, maybe you shouldn't be sitting here. After all, you're Daniel's lawyer," she said in an awkward attempt at humor.
"I'm his friend first, his lawyer second. If you stick around, maybe I'll be your friend, too."
She offered him a shy smile. "Except for Daniel and Beth, I don't have too many friends."
"Beth." He grinned boyishly again. "We've talked about my client, now let's discuss your lawyer. Tell me about Beth Gibson."
"She's a good lawyer and a good friend. She's very bright, very tough…" Slowly Sarah smiled. "But those aren't the things you want to know about her, are they?"
"Let's start with whether or not she's married."
"No. Not involved with anyone, either." She'd known Beth since college and couldn't remember the redhead ever being seriously involved with anyone. There had been a few brief romances, but unlike Sarah, Beth had never wanted anything serious. Sometimes Sarah thought her friend didn't believe in serious relationships.
"I got the impression in dealing with her that she doesn't particularly like men."
"Beth handles a lot of divorces. Maybe she sees the bad side of men a lot more often than the rest of us do."
Zachary acknowledged that possibility with a nod. "When everything between you and Daniel is settled, I'd like to see her."
Sarah admired his honesty. Maybe he would change Beth's opinion of men in general. Or maybe she would cut him off at the knees with one look, as she was so capable of doing. "Why wait?"
"As long as she's your attorney and I'm Daniel's, our relationship is technically adversarial."
"Sometimes that's the best kind to have. Besides, things will be settled between Daniel and me in seven more days." One way or the other. She would have Katie, and maybe Daniel, too. Or maybe the end of their year-long arrangement would also mean the end of their relationship.
Zachary looked down, guiltily avoiding her gaze. "Yeah, next Thursday is the first." And, unless Daniel changed his mind, the beginning of a lifetime of heartache for Sarah, or Daniel, or both.
"Well, I'd better go. I want to talk to Daniel before I decide what to do next." Sarah reached for her tab, but Zachary picked it up first.
"My treat. It's not often that I get to have lunch with someone who doesn't want to talk about the crops, fishing or hunting. Give Katie a kiss for me."
"Sure. And thanks for lunch."
Daniel and Katie were in the workshop when Sarah got home. She went inside the house, quickly
changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, then went to join them. Katie greeted her with a brilliant smile, a hug and several kisses that went a long way toward easing her depression over her failure to find a job.
"She's been watching for you all morning," Daniel remarked as he fitted a joint on an elegant ladder-back chair. "She couldn't figure out how you got away."
"I missed you, sweetie," Sarah said, holding Katie high and nuzzling her belly. "I don't know how I'm going to stand leaving you behind when I go to work."
Tension streaked through Daniel, but he kept it off his face by sheer force of will. "Did you find a job?"
"No." Her smile was bright and phony. "I missed you, too."
"What happened in town?"
She set Katie down and leaned her hip against the table. "I had lunch with Zachary Adams."
"Oh?"
He could, put a lot into that little word without changing his voice or expression one bit, she thought with a genuine grin. "Yeah. And I met a friend of yours."
"Who was that?"
"Marcy." At his blank look, she felt relief easing over the jealousy. "The waitress at the diner? A pretty woman, I guess, if you go for that centerfold type."
When Daniel realized who she was talking about, he grinned, too, and the tension clenching his muscles began to ease. "If I did go for that type, I'd be flat out of luck with you, wouldn't I?"
Groaning dismally, Sarah looked down at her chest, then at him. "Don't use the word 'flat' in the same sentence with me, okay?" She traced her finger over the chair leg. "Where does this one go?"
"Nashville. What about a job? Was there anything available?"
Her smile faded completely. "Not for me." She turned away, intending to join Katie on the floor, but Daniel caught her arm in a gentle hold.
"What do you mean, not for you?"
"Nothing."
"Sarah."
He would feel responsible, she knew, and in spite of her complaint to Zachary about the unfairness of the town's attitudes toward her and Daniel regarding Katie, she didn't want him to blame himself.
SOMEBODY'S BABY Page 19
