by Jackie Braun
“I can take the baby if you’d like,” Morgan offered. “He’s small yet, but he gets heavy after a while.”
“Oh, no. I’m delighted to hold him.” Julia laughed then. “In fact, you might have to pry him out of my arms when you and Bryan leave. You know, if you ever need a night out with friends or a little time to pamper yourself, I’ll be happy to watch him for you.”
“That’s a generous offer.”
“There’s nothing generous about it. I want to spoil him rotten, as is a grandmother’s prerogative.” She leaned down to nuzzle Brice’s cheek. The baby gurgled in response.
The sweetness of the moment had a sigh catching in Morgan’s throat. This is how it would be if her own mother were alive. For the first time since coming to Chicago, she not only felt that she’d made the right choice, but that everything was going to work out. She glanced at Bryan, wondering what he thought of his mother’s remark. The pain she saw in his dark eyes came as a surprise.
“Bryan tells us you’ve been living in his penthouse since the baby was born,” Hugh said.
“Yes. I told Bryan it wasn’t necessary for him to move out.” She colored after saying it, realizing his parents could interpret the statement a couple of ways. “I mean, it’s been kind of him to let me stay there, but I could have found another place to live. And I will, of course, now that you’re home.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Julia asked. “We’ve enjoyed seeing so much of Bryan. It’s hardly been an imposition for him to stay in the guesthouse.”
“I’m relieved to hear you say that, but I think it probably has been an imposition for Bryan, what with the commute and all.” Morgan sent him a wry look.
“She’s right.”
“Bryan!” Julia admonished.
He talked over his mother’s objection. “I would prefer to be back in the penthouse, but you needn’t look at me as if I’m proposing to throw Morgan and my nephew out on the streets of Chicago to fend for themselves.”
Morgan’s mouth dropped open. For the first time, he’d called Brice his nephew. For a moment she thought she might have heard him wrong, but when she looked at him there was no mistaking the apology in his gaze. What had prompted his change of heart?
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she missed what else Bryan said, and so it made no sense when Julia clapped her hands together and exclaimed, “That’s a great idea! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it first. What do you say, Morgan?”
“Wh-what?”
“I said, I think you should move in to the guesthouse when I move back to the city,” Bryan told her.
“Oh, no. No. I can’t do that. You’ve already been so kind. All of you.” She glanced around the table, her gaze lingering on Bryan. “I can’t impose on your family’s hospitality any longer. It’s…it’s not right.”
“Don’t be silly. We’d love to have you and Brice here,” Hugh said. “For as long as you want to stay.”
“And it will reduce my commute time,” Bryan reminded her with a crooked smile.
Julia’s argument, however, was the most poignant. “Besides, it’s not an imposition. You and Brice are family.”
Morgan’s mouth fell open as the word embraced her with all the comfort of a hug. She’d felt so alone, she’d been so alone, since losing her parents. Now here were people who had known her for less than an hour offering her not just a place to stay, but a place in their lives.
“Oh, that’s…that’s so…” Her eyes began to fill, and because she knew it was only a matter of time before she made an absolute fool of herself, Morgan shot to her feet.
She had no idea where she was going, only that she needed a moment of privacy to get hold of her emotions. She followed one of the flagstone paths through a rose-covered arbor, drawn by the soothing sound of rushing water. The pathway opened up to a small waterfall that emptied into a koi pond. Morgan sank down on the nearby stone bench and dropped her head in her hands, giving in to the tears that begged to be shed. When she pulled her hands away, Bryan was standing there.
“I came to see if you were all right.”
As he had for his mother earlier, he offered Morgan his handkerchief.
She blotted her eyes—so much for the morning’s careful application of mascara and liner—and worked up a smile. “Sorry. I just needed a minute.”
“No need to apologize.”
“Your mom is very kind and…” She shifted her gaze to the pond. The sight and sound of the water had a soothing effect. Bryan’s presence did too. “It’s incredibly lonely to be without family. I’ve got some aunts and uncles and a few cousins I exchange Christmas cards with. But it’s not the same.”
“No, I don’t suppose it is.”
Turning toward him, she said, “I never felt cheated to be an only child. My parents were great. Fun, funny. I could tell my mom anything, and my dad, he and I…” Her voice trailed off and it was a moment before she could continue. “When my parents were gone it was as if my whole world just stopped having any order. Suddenly, I had no place to be on Sunday afternoons. I had nowhere to go for holidays, no one to call for advice or pep talks.”
“That must have been hell.”
She swiped away fresh tears. “When I found out I was pregnant with Brice, my first reaction wasn’t shock or desperation.” She shrugged. “Oh, sure, I wasn’t all that excited to become an unwed mother, especially when I found out I was about to lose my job and my health insurance. But part of me was just so relieved that I wasn’t going to be alone any more.”
“You’re not alone, Morgan.”
“I know. I have Brice.”
“You have more than that.” He offered his hand to help her to her feet. Afterward, he didn’t let go. His fingers curled through hers. Their palms met. “If you don’t want to stay and eat lunch, I’ll take you back to the city. My parents will understand.”
“No. I’ll stay. I finish what I start.”
“I’ve figured that out about you.”
The way Bryan was studying her made Morgan feel exposed and self-conscious. Maybe that was why she asked, “What else have you figured out about me?”
“Not nearly enough to satisfy my curiosity,” he admitted. “But enough to know I owe you an apology.”
“Thanks.”
“Shall we?”
He was still holding her hand, the gesture friendly but somehow intimate. Though he merely led her back to the table, Morgan felt a bridge had been crossed.
On the patio, lunch was being delivered. As Mae served grilled salmon sliced over beds of crisp greens and passed out freshly baked hard-crust rolls, a younger, similarly clad woman brought a bassinet out from the house and set it between Morgan’s and Julia’s seats. It was white and though the wicker appeared somewhat yellowed, the bedding was obviously new.
“Thank you, Carmen.” To Morgan, Julia said, “Bryan and Dill slept in this when they were infants. And Caden, too.” Julia’s face colored and she flashed an apologetic look in Bryan’s direction.
Who was Caden?
Morgan didn’t ask. Even if she’d wanted to, she didn’t get the chance. She and Brice were the topics of interest in this conversation, and so, for the next forty-five minutes she answered Julia and Hugh’s questions. It could have had the feel of an interrogation, but it didn’t. Indeed, the Caliborns made it easy for Morgan to open up, perhaps because they’d accepted without reservation that her baby was Dillon’s son.
The only time she felt awkward was when she talked about what she did for a living. Morgan didn’t want her limited financial reserves to color their opinion of her.
“I’m a teacher. Unfortunately, I’m between full-time jobs right now,” she admitted.
Bryan had been quiet, though whenever she’d glanced his way, he’d nodded encouragingly. Now he inserted, “Morgan teaches music. She worked in a public school district in Wisconsin, but lost her job due to budget cuts.”
“That’s a shame, for you as
well as for the students. The arts are so underappreciated.” Julia’s mouth puckered in disdain. “Do you play an instrument then?”
“A few, actually, but mainly the piano.”
“And she’s passable at the sax.” Bryan said it with a straight face, but amusement was evident in his eyes.
God, she hoped she wasn’t blushing. Clearing her throat, she said with as much dignity as she could muster, “I was classically trained. My parents had dreams of me becoming a concert pianist, especially after they’d scraped together every penny they had to send me to Juilliard.”
“Juilliard?” This from Bryan, who then told his parents, “And she’s played Carnegie Hall twice.”
“We’d love to hear you play sometime,” Julia said.
“I’m afraid I’m pretty rusty at giving concerts. These days, rather than playing Beethoven or Mozart, my time in front of the piano is largely spent helping kids learn notes and scales. I’m working a few hours each weekday afternoon in a community center.” She sent a smile in Bryan’s direction. “In fact, Windy City Industries recently announced it is making a generous donation of instruments to the center.”
Hugh nodded in approval. “Bryan mentioned that at dinner the other evening.”
Julia looked puzzled when she added, “He neglected to tell us that you worked there.”
“It’s a good cause,” Bryan said, shrugging.
“A very good cause,” Julia agreed. “I’d imagine there are a lot of struggling families for whom private music lessons and quality instruments are beyond reach.”
“Exactly. I love it, too. The kids are great, and if it helps keep them off the streets and out of trouble or harm’s way, all the better.”
“It doesn’t pay much, though,” Bryan said.
“Bryan, don’t be rude,” Julia chastised.
Morgan sipped her iced tea. “I’m afraid he’s right, which is why I’m still sending out my résumé.”
“To schools in the Chicago area?” Julia asked hopefully.
Morgan exhaled slowly. “And elsewhere. The cost of living here is a little more expensive than some of the other communities where I’m applying.”
“I have a solution to that,” Bryan surprised her by saying. Setting his fork aside, he reached into the back pocket of his pants and pulled out a crinkled envelope. “This is yours.”
“What is this?”
“Open it.”
Perplexed, Morgan did as he said, and then blinked in shock. Inside the envelope was a check. A check made out to her for the sum of two million dollars.
Bryan watched Morgan’s brow wrinkle and confusion infused her expression. Glancing up, she said, “I don’t understand.”
“It’s from Dillon’s life insurance policy. He named me his beneficiary.”
Shaking her head, Morgan told him, “I can’t accept it,” and attempted to hand back the check.
He closed his hand around hers. “Yes, you can.”
“But it’s yours. I don’t want money.” Her gaze veered to his parents then. “I didn’t come here for money. Honestly, that’s not…that’s not…”
When Bryan squeezed her hand, she stopped talking.
“Morgan, we know that.”
“Do you?” The question, dagger-sharp, was directed at him.
“Yes, I do.”
Her eyes grew bright and she nodded. “But I still can’t take your money.”
“It’s not my money. By rights, it belongs to Brice. It belongs to my brother’s son.”
“Bryan’s right, Morgan,” Julia said.
Hugh was more direct. “Dill was irresponsible when it came to his finances. Money passed through his fingers as quickly as water. Where Bryan invested the trust fund my parents left him, Dillon squandered his. In truth, I’m surprised he thought to take out a life insurance policy. He probably only did it because the father of a girl he dated in college was the principal owner of a large Chicago insurance firm.” He coughed, embarrassed. “But whatever the reason, I’m glad he did it. And I agree one hundred percent with Bryan that it should go to Brice.”
Morgan turned to Bryan. He was still holding her hand and could feel that she was shaking. “But Dillon named you his beneficiary. He left the money to you.”
“He should have left it to Brice. I have to believe if he’d known you were pregnant, he would have. His son is entitled to that money, Morgan.”
Put like that, he figured she would agree. Finally, she nodded slowly.
“Okay. For Brice.”
“Good. I’ll be happy to offer some advice on investments,” he told her.
“Investments. Yes. I’d appreciate that.” A smile loosened her lips. “I guess I don’t have to worry any longer about his college fund.”
“It’s a wonderful idea to secure his future,” Julia said. “But there’s nothing wrong with also using some of it in the meantime for day-to-day living expenses, housing, trips and that sort of thing. You won’t be spending it on yourself. You’ll also be spending it on him.”
Bryan could tell she was still struggling with the notion. Most likely because the money in question was to come from his bank account, he decided, when she asked quietly, “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“Yes.” In fact, at that moment, he’d never been more sure of anything.
CHAPTER EIGHT
MORGAN visited with the Caliborns far longer than she’d anticipated. It wasn’t obligation that found her there late in the afternoon. It was their warmth and kindness. And, of course, the way they doted on Brice.
“We probably should be going,” Bryan said, pushing back from the table.
“I wish this day could last forever.” Julia’s tone was wistful as she glanced at the baby cooing in the bassinet. “We’ve enjoyed this visit so much.”
“I have, too. We’ll get together again soon,” Morgan promised.
“We’ll look forward to it. It’s been a pleasure getting to know you, dear. You’re a very nice young woman. Exactly the sort a mother would want for her son.”
Morgan smiled, but said nothing. If Dillon were still alive, would they be together now? She doubted it. Before his death, he’d made no effort to contact her. They’d made love, but they’d never spoken of a relationship. Would they have fallen in love, brought together by the shared duties of parenthood? Or, would she have come to Chicago and still wound up damningly attracted to his brother?
“Now that Bryan has given you Dillon’s life insurance money, you’ll probably want to invest in a home of your own,” Hugh said. “But while you’re looking, Julia and I still would love for you to stay in our guesthouse.”
“Oh, yes. Please say you will,” Julia added. “I promise not to be popping in unannounced all the time and disturbing you. Maybe just once a day to play with Brice.”
Morgan had to admit, the idea of an extra set of hands held almost as much appeal as the opportunity for Brice to develop a relationship with his grandparents.
“Can that once a day be at two in the morning when he decides he doesn’t want to go back to sleep?” she asked with a grin.
“Is that a yes?”
“Yes.”
The older woman wrapped Morgan in a hug and rocked back and forth. “I’m so glad.”
It was a moment before she stepped back. Then she said to Bryan, “Why don’t you show Morgan around the guesthouse before you leave. It’s in presentable condition, I hope.”
“More or less.”
“Good.” Julia scooped up the baby. “And take your time.”
“We’ll be lucky to get out of here before midnight,” Bryan groused good-naturedly as they crossed to the guesthouse. His tone was more serious when he added, “I’m glad you agreed to stay here for a while. It means a lot to my parents to be able to get to know Brice and have him so near. They’re not very happy with me that I kept him a secret for so long.”
“You did what you thought was best,” Morgan allowed, though she still felt she was miss
ing some pertinent facts. “And it means a lot to me, too, to have them so close by. Every child deserves at least one set of doting grandparents.”
“They’ll spoil him rotten if you’re not careful. Before you know it, toys will start arriving. Big toys like motorized cars and life-size stuffed ponies.” He snorted out a laugh. “They’re good at that.”
Morgan frowned. He sounded as if he spoke from experience, she thought as he opened the door and waited for her to go inside.
The guesthouse was much smaller than Bryan’s penthouse, but what it lacked in square footage it made up for in warmth and coziness. The kitchen was outfitted with high-end appliances and warm maple cabinetry. A high counter separated it from the living room. A newspaper was laid out on the counter next to a cup of coffee and a plate dotted with toast crumbs and a small wedge of crust. She pictured him sitting there, combing through the business section as he ate.
“That looks like the breakfast of champions,” she teased.
“Making toast is the extent of my culinary abilities.” He shrugged. “Don’t tell my mother I left dirty dishes out. She’d be appalled.”
“Actually, this place is amazingly clean for a bachelor pad,” Morgan remarked as he led her down a short hall.
“That’s because I’m not here much to mess it up.” He opened the first door they came to and switched on the light, revealing a full bath with the kind of tub a woman could do some serious soaking in and a glass-enclosed shower. Pointing to a partly opened door on the other side, he said, “You can access this room from either the hall or the bedroom.”
That was their next stop. Once inside, he pulled back the drapes and light flooded in. The room was amply proportioned, although she would have to rearrange the furniture to accommodate Brice’s crib and changing table. Bryan read her mind.
“If you take out the desk and move the bed over to that wall, you’ll have no problem fitting in Brice’s nursery.”
The desk in question was piled high with file folders and a laptop computer.
“You’re not home enough to mess up this place, but you find time to work here?”
