The Marine's Baby

by Deb Kastner

  He let himself into his father’s apartment without knocking. These days, Pop anticipated his visits, and Nate certainly enjoyed spending time with his father. If he wasn’t mistaken, it seemed to him that Pop was getting stronger and healthier by the day, a fact that Nate thanked God for.

  “When are you going to bring my little granddaughter around again?” his father asked as Nate fiddled with the flue to the chimney. He’d done quite a bit of construction on the lodge when he was a boy, but building this fireplace for his father had been a new kind of challenge. He wanted it to be just perfect when the inspector came.

  “The county inspector comes out tomorrow,” he said aloud. “I’d like to invite Jess to be here, so maybe I’ll bring Gracie along as well.”

  Pop crowed happily. “You do that. I can’t get enough of her. You know I have a God-given responsibility to spoil that baby girl.”

  Nate chuckled and shook his head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  He turned to face his father, who cocked his right eyebrow at him. With the way the left side of his face sagged from nerve damage, it gave his pop kind of a comical look.

  “What?” Nate asked.

  “You,” his father replied sagely. “You look different.”

  Nate gazed down at his jeans and olive-green T-shirt, the same as he always wore. He shrugged. “I don’t know what’s different.”

  Pop guffawed loudly. “Not your clothes, boy. Your face.”

  Nate instinctively ran a hand across his cheek, noting the stubble. Other than the fact that he needed to shave, he couldn’t feel any difference. “What’s wrong with my face?”

  “How is Jessica doing?” Pop asked, ostensibly changing the subject.

  “Jess? She’s fine. Why?”

  Pop crowed again and pointed at Nate as if in accusation. “I knew it! I knew it! You’re walking around with your head in the clouds, boy. There’s only one thing that can put such a gleam in a man’s eye, and that’s a good woman.”

  Nate spent exactly two seconds thinking about trying to talk his father out of his fanciful notion, and then decided it wasn’t worth the effort. Pop was dead-on with his assumption, and anything Nate could think of to say would only confirm it and subject him to an even worse bout of teasing.

  Better just to remain silent.

  He turned back to the fireplace and grunted. “Shall we light her up?”

  Pop chuckled. “By all means. Let’s see if a bomb defuser can build something up as well as he takes things apart.”

  Nate stiffened, feeling that his father was talking about more than just the new fireplace. Nate had torn down his share of family relationships over the years.

  But Pop was still chuckling, so Nate let it go. He placed a couple of logs he’d cut earlier in the fireplace, and then added some old newspaper for kindling, pushing the wadded-up paper into the cracks between the logs.

  “Ready?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder as he fished in his pocket for a pack of matches.

  Pop beamed and nodded.

  Nate struck a match and lit the crumpled newsprint in several places, blowing on the small flames to add more oxygen. After a moment, the wood caught fire, and soon there was a warm, snapping blaze.

  Still crouched before the fireplace, Nate leaned on his elbows and stared intently at the crackling flames, thinking how the golden warmth reflected what he was feeling in his heart.

  Life was good.

  Better every day, in fact. He couldn’t help but send up another silent thank-you to God. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately, he realized.

  Pop wheeled his chair up next to Nate and laid a hand on his shoulder.

  “It’s wonderful,” Pop said in a hushed tone.

  “Yeah, Pop,” Nate agreed in the same quiet, reverent tone of voice. “It is.”

  Nate bounded forward with the most adorable combination of anxiety and youthful anticipation that Jessica simply didn’t have the will to resist him when he showed up at her cabin an hour before she was due at the day care and asked her to spend the day with him while the county inspector looked over his handiwork.

  The day care wasn’t at full capacity today, and she knew the other teachers could handle the children. Besides, Nate had coerced her with the knowledge that Jason Morningway wanted to spend some time with Gracie, and Nate would, he wryly pointed out, be too busy with the inspection to keep an eye on the baby.

  She felt decidedly awkward after the kiss she’d shared with Nate, but he wasn’t treating her any differently than he ever had, so she forced herself to relax and go with the flow, mentally denying the intimacy she was feeling in her heart.

  Could she put the past behind her and forge her future with Nate? Her stomach clenched just thinking about it.

  Eventually, she would have to face what she was walking headlong into. She would have to put a label on them. She would have to crawl off the fence she’d been straddling since the day she’d met Nate and Gracie and declare a side.

  But not today.

  This day belonged to Nate, and Jessica wanted to be by his side as he triumphed over the skeletons in his own closet.

  She didn’t protest when he took her hand to help her out of his Jeep, nor when he hitched Gracie to his other side and laced his fingers through Jessica’s. He was looking for support, she reasoned; and after all, that was what she was there for.

  The county inspector, who introduced himself as Michael Sheridan, was waiting for Nate in the dayroom, sitting on the sofa and consulting his clipboard.

  She and Nate ushered Michael into Jason’s apartment and the inspection began. Giving Jessica’s hand one last squeeze, Nate slipped Gracie into her arms and turned his attention to Michael Sheridan’s questions. Not wanting to be in the way, Jessica hurried to Jason’s side and propped the baby in his lap.

  She watched the inspection from a distance, her attention slipping back and forth between Nate and Michael, and Jason and Gracie.

  To her surprise, Jason slowly lifted his left arm and crooked it to give Gracie a better seat on his lap. The strain on his face told her what kind of effort he was expending, but the results were astonishing.

  “Why, sir,” she exclaimed. “You’re moving your left arm!”

  Jason grinned widely and winked at her.

  “Call me Jason, please. And yes, I’m getting limited movement back in my arm. My leg is still giving me problems, but my physical therapist is hopeful I’ll regain some sensation there.”

  “That’s wonderful news!”

  “Rosemary, my physical therapist, is a real drill sergeant. She doesn’t let me get away with anything, and she is constantly pushing me to work beyond what I think I can do.”

  “Sounds like she’s doing her job,” Jessica teased, punctuating her sentence with a chuckle as she slid into a chair across from Jason and leaned forward. Nate was leading Michael outside, so she turned her full attention to Jason and Gracie.

  “And this little one,” he continued, kissing Gracie on the forehead, “has turned the word motivation right on its ear.”

  “She does that, doesn’t she?” Jessica queried softly, reaching her index finger out so the baby could clasp it. “She’s turned all of our lives inside out.”

  Jason chuckled. “Only Gracie?”

  Her gaze snapped to the old man, who was grinning at her like the cat who had eaten the proverbial canary.

  Jessica felt her skin burning from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, and knew she must be blushing a frightful color of red.

  “So I take it from your reaction that my son is getting to you, as well?”

  Jessica rocked back in her chair as if he’d physically pushed her there. He hadn’t touched her with more than his words, of course. It was a good thing, too, Jessica thought. If he so much as grazed her with his pinky finger, she would no doubt fall to the floor.

  “I— He—” she stammered, but couldn’t seem to get her mouth to form a single coherent word for the life o
f her.

  And what would she say, anyway?

  How could she deny what was clearly written all over her face, at least if Jason’s gleeful chuckle was anything to go by.

  Jason patted her knee reassuringly. “There, there, dear. I apologize. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. This old man just doesn’t know when to keep his opinion to himself.”

  “It’s not that,” she assured him, sweeping in a giant breath of air in order to keep herself from feeling that a noose was tightening around her neck. “I just—it’s just that I’m a little confused right now.”

  “Of course you are,” Jason agreed with a knowing nod, now laughing heartily.

  Gracie stared up at her grandfather a moment with wide, startled eyes, and then flapped her arms and squealed happily, catching Jason’s excitement.

  Jessica stared at the baby and tried desperately to regain her equilibrium. Confused didn’t even begin to cover what she was feeling.

  Jason winked. “I still remember how completely out of my head I was when I fell in love with Nate’s mother. It was a disconcerting feeling, to say the least.”

  Jessica dragged her gaze away from Gracie and centered it on Jason. The choking sensation had returned with reinforcements.

  Fall in love?

  Was that what she was doing?

  There was no denying her strong attraction for Nate, or how empty her little cabin felt whenever he and Gracie weren’t present. But love? Did she even dare think of the word in context with Nate Morningway?

  The L word, her friends in high school used to call it. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage.

  Only this time the baby had come first. But that didn’t make what she felt for Nate any less real or tangible. If anything, it only added to the joy she felt whenever she was around the two of them.

  And the confusion.

  Because she could never forget—not for one second—that she had already been around this particular block once, and with disastrous results.

  A shattered heart. A broken home.

  A husband who didn’t mean his wedding vows for forever.

  Even with the faith in God she now held dear to her heart, there were no guarantees in life. Her destination was assured, but the road getting there could be bumpy, and she knew that better than anyone.

  If she gave her heart to Nate, she risked having it broken all over again. It had taken her two years to even begin to recover from her last relationship. She might never recover from another bad experience.

  “Are you okay?” Jason asked, breaking into her thoughts.

  “Huh?” she asked, dazed. “Oh. Yes. Everything is fine.”

  Jason looked deeply into her eyes and shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  Jessica didn’t know the words to say to put Jason’s mind at ease. Her mind wasn’t at ease. And somehow she could tell Jason knew that.

  But as it happened, she didn’t have the opportunity to say anything, as Nate burst back into the room, followed by Michael Sheridan, who was still scribbling notes on his clipboard.

  “Light the fire,” Michael said, tapping the point of his pen against the clipboard.

  Nate winked at Jessica as he moved to the fireplace to do as he was bid. Jessica smiled to herself. Apparently all was well with the inspection. She was glad, for Nate’s sake.

  After a few more minutes, the inspector announced that he was finished, and he complimented Nate on a job well done.

  Nate beamed. Jason chuckled under his breath.

  Jessica wondered if Jason understood just how important it was for Nate to complete this project for his father. She thought, gazing at Jason’s bright gray eyes, that he probably did.

  “Jess and I will walk you out,” Nate told Michael. He moved to Jessica’s chair and held out a hand to her. “You’ll be okay with Gracie for a few minutes, won’t you, Pop?”

  Jason chuckled. “Take all the time you need. My little granddaughter and I are doing just fine here all by ourselves.”

  Jessica accepted Nate’s hand, and wasn’t really surprised when he didn’t let it go after she’d stood. Despite her mixed feelings, it felt right to be linked with Nate in such a natural way.

  Together, they walked the inspector outside. Jessica heard the sound of a table saw splitting wood the moment they walked out the door, and absently wondered where it came from.

  As soon as they stepped off the porch, she saw the source of the sound. Vince was at the far side of the lodge, dressed in jeans and a denim shirt that Jessica thought looked odd on a man who usually wore a suit, despite the fact that they were at a mountain retreat. A backward-facing baseball cap covered his hair.

  Looming behind Vince was the project he was clearly working on. He had framed in what looked like was going to be a good-size shed and was now cutting plywood to attach to the two-by-fours.

  Nate lifted his free arm and waved to Vince, who just stared back at the small group, his arms propped on his hips, his posture suggesting they’d somehow interrupted his work. Still, Jessica was proud of Nate for trying, even when Vince didn’t respond positively.

  Nate’s movement caught the inspector’s attention, and he looked to where Vince was building. His gaze narrowed as he crooked a hand over his forehead to block the glare of the sunshine so he could see better.

  “Who is that?” Michael asked.

  “My brother, Vince,” Nate answered cordially. “He runs Morningway Lodge.”

  “I see,” Michael muttered, tapping his pen on his clipboard for a moment before moving decisively in Vince’s direction.

  Nate flashed Jessica a surprised look before following the inspector to where Vince was working.

  “Vince, this is county inspector Michael Sheridan. He’s come to look over the fireplace I built.”

  Vince wiped his palms against his jeans and then held out a hand to Michael.

  “I assume you have a permit to build here?” Michael asked, looking over Vince’s shoulder and gesturing toward the frame of the shed.

  Vince’s gaze widened, and he shook his head. “No, sir. It’s just a shed. My old one is full to overflowing with tools. I thought I’d better get another one up before winter hits us hard. It’s not a big building project or anything.”

  “Even so,” Michael continued, “you will need to have a permit to build.”

  Vince looked flustered. And frustrated. Jessica squeezed Nate’s hand, wondering if he might be able to say something—anything—to diffuse the situation. She felt Nate tense, but he remained silent.

  “Is this a new law?” Vince asked. “I don’t recall my father getting permits to build. And this is private property.”

  “I realize that,” Michael said, his voice a clipped, businesslike monotone. “And yes, the law is new—at least relative to the age of your property. Still, the fees must be paid in to our office before you can continue with your work here.”

  “I see,” Vince said, not sounding happy about it at all, and Jessica couldn’t blame him. He had enough to worry about without having to jump through extra hoops to complete a simple project. “In that case, I’ll see to getting a permit right away.”

  “I’m afraid I’m going to have to insist that it be done immediately,” Michael informed him, his voice and expression neutral. “If not, you will be fined for building without a permit. I warn you now, the fine is pretty steep.”

  “You’d fine me over one shed?” Vince snapped, then pinched his lips together and frowned.

  “That’s the way it works,” the inspector insisted. “I don’t make the rules, but I do have to enforce them.”

  “Yes, sir. Of course. I understand, and I’ll see to it right away.”

  “All right, then. I’ll expect to see you in my office immediately, so we can clear up this paperwork.”

  Vince nodded, his face still strained, but the inspector had already turned to Nate.

  “Mr. Morningway,” Michael said, shaking Nate’s ha
nd. “It’s been a pleasure.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Nate responded. His voice was coarse and cracking, and Jessica knew he was struggling merely to speak. She squeezed his hand again as Michael got into his vehicle and turned off down the unpaved road.

  Nate immediately turned to Vince, his arm outstretched in supplication. “Hey, I’m sorry about that, bro. I didn’t realize that—”

  Vince whirled on him, his sizzling scowl bringing Nate’s words to an instant stop.

  “Well done, little brother,” Vince said, his voice sharp with sarcasm. “You’ve really gone and done it this time, haven’t you?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Though Vince hadn’t moved from where he’d been standing, Nate felt as though his brother had sucker punched him right in his gut. He stiffened to keep from clutching at his midsection.

  “What did I do?” Nate knew his question sounded defensive. It was. And it was the wrong question to ask. He already knew Vince was going to blame him for whatever inconvenience he would face.

  “If they slap me with a fine because of this stupid permit business it’s going to be on your head. I have to meet with suppliers in Denver this week, so I’m not going to be able to get it right away. Thanks a lot, Nate.”

  Nate dropped Jess’s hand and took an unconscious step backward, as if reeling from a blow. He felt the overwhelming urge to come out swinging, to settle their differences the way they had as children.

  He hoped he’d matured a little bit in ten years, and with effort, he unclenched his fists. Still, he couldn’t let it completely go. “How is it my fault you didn’t get a permit before you started building?”

  Real mature, there, Morningway, he chastised himself. Way to go.

  “I didn’t know I was supposed to get a permit for a measly shed,” Vince barked. “Pop never needed a permit to build.”

  “Look,” Nate said, holding out his hands in a placating manner. “I just wanted to do this fireplace thing on the up-and-up. It’s been years since I’ve built anything. I had to make sure it was safe, for Pop’s sake. You wouldn’t have wanted me accidentally burning down the lodge, now would you?”