by Loree Lough
All her life, she’d heard that the surest way to solve a problem was to lay it at the foot of the cross. Jaina closed the Bible and returned it to the bookshelf, confident for the first time in a week, because it was right to leave the matter in the Lord’s capable hands.
Something told her that sooner or later, God would let her know what He wanted her to do—fight for Liam, or step aside and let Buchanan raise the boy, or suggest the “togetherness” idea.
Her father had a favorite Bible verse. “He will not let you be tempted beyond your strength, but with the temptation will provide a way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”
She would adopt First Corinthians 10:13 as her own chosen verse. Because, she admitted, slipping into bed, if the Lord decided it was Buchanan who should parent Liam, Jaina was going to need all the strength she could muster.
Chapter Five
Jaina ran a hand through perspiration-matted hair and said a quick prayer of thanks that he’d phoned instead of dropping by as she’d suggested. Her evening of weeding the flower beds out back had cost her one bruised knee, two broken fingernails and a scraped palm. She hadn’t minded Skip seeing her this way when he’d come over earlier, so why did it matter what Connor Buchanan might have thought of her appearance? She searched for a reason she could live with. Because Skip’s opinion of you won’t affect the judge’s ruling, that’s why. There was a lot of truth in that, but not the whole truth….
“Sorry to be calling so late,” he said, breaking into her thoughts, “I thought I’d take a chance Liam might still be up.”
If she didn’t know better, she’d say he sounded lonely. But how could that be? she wondered. He was…he was Connor Buchanan! “I’d wake him for you, but he’s had quite a day. I bought him one of those big blue wading pools, and he splashed away the whole afternoon. And tonight, he had his first gardening adventure.”
He chuckled. “I’ll bet he dug in for all he was worth.”
Jaina giggled. “Those petunias didn’t know what hit them. I found dirt in crevices I didn’t even know he had!”
They chatted about the heat and humidity, about the Orioles’ chances of playing in the World Series, about the Ravens’ star quarterback sustaining an injury that might keep him from supporting his team in the fall.
“So, what do you guys do to celebrate the Fourth of July?”
Jaina thought she detected a note of hopefulness in his voice but couldn’t determine if he “hoped” to have Liam all to himself, or “hoped” she’d include him in the family’s plans. “We have all sorts of traditions,” she said. “For one, we start the day with a red, white and blue breakfast.”
“Red, white and blue?”
“Raspberries, blueberries and whipped cream on our pancakes. Then we head for the parade. No matter where we were stationed, Dad always managed to find us a marching band and a majorette. Then it’s home again for hot dogs and burgers on the grill. And once our bloated bellies deflate a bit, it’s off to the fireworks.”
“Sounds like fun.”
The hopefulness in his voice had turned to disappointment, she detected. Surely he didn’t really expect her to invite him. Her mother would probably ring her neck for asking, but…
“What do you do on the Fourth?”
There was a long pause before he said, “Once in a while, I take Pearl up on her invitation to spend the day with her family.”
“Only once in a while?”
“She has four kids, eleven grandchildren and four great-grandchildren.”
“Goodness, she doesn’t look old enough to be a great-grandmother! What’s her secret?”
“She claims to walk two miles a day, and her kids tell me she reads like it’s going out of style.”
“If that’s what keeps her so young and alert, I’m going to walk and read more, starting right now!”
Connor laughed. “She’s a dynamo all right.”
“So…why would you ever avoid spending time with a woman like that?”
“Because she’s got a huge family. Sometimes it seems like half of Ellicott City is packed into her yard.”
“But…that sounds wonderful.”
“It is, in a way.” He hesitated. “But it’s hard being around all those people when you’re not related to a single one.”
Connor Buchanan, big newsmaking attorney, wishing for a family? Jaina couldn’t believe her ears. Surely he had parents, siblings other than Kirstie’s mother… “I only spoke with Pearl once, and the conversation was admittedly brief, but I got the distinct impression she’s the kind of woman who goes out of her way to make folks feel like part of things. I’m sure if she knew you were feeling uncomfortable, she’d—”
“She’s a doll, and I know she means well. Trouble is, the more effort she puts into making me feel a part of the family, the more obvious it is that I’m not.”
She heard him take a deep breath.
“We didn’t do picnics and cookouts and parades when I was a kid. Ever. I don’t know how I could miss something I never had but…” He paused. “Family stuff scares me to death.”
He was either genuinely miserable or doing an excellent job of faking it. But why would he pretend? Some of her most pleasant memories were rooted in family gatherings. No one should be deprived of such happiness. “Why does it scare you?”
If not for the sound of his sigh, she might have thought he’d hung up. “Because,” he said, breaking the lengthy silence, “sometimes I wonder if it’ll ever be mine to enjoy, except from the sidelines.”
If he was anything like her father, Buchanan would rather die than discover he’d made her feel sorry for him. She knew how to comfort her father at times like this, but Jaina had only exchanged a few words with Connor Buchanan. She wanted to say something soothing, but she didn’t know him well enough to choose the right words. What if what she said insulted rather than reassured him?
Hold your tongue, Jaina. You can’t risk riling him.
But even as she thought it, Jaina knew the reason she didn’t want to hurt him had nothing to do with the adoption case. She didn’t want to hurt him because she was beginning to feel a strong emotional attachment for him. Already.
He began to chuckle softly.
“What’s so funny?”
“You.”
Me? “But I didn’t say a word.”
“It wasn’t what you said. It’s what you didn’t say.”
“I don’t get it.”
Another long moment passed. “Maybe I’ll stop by to see Liam on the Fourth. Just for half an hour or so.”
Pursing her lips, Jaina ran the options through her mind.
She could say it wasn’t a good idea for him to see Liam on such a busy day. She could tell him to come on over just for a while as he’d suggested.
Or she could do what she knew to be the right thing, the Christian thing. “Look, why don’t you plan to spend the day with us? I’m sure Liam would love it, and I could use help lugging him around. He’s a solid little guy even if he is only seven months old, you know.”
He was holding the phone with his left hand. She knew because the quiet was so complete she could hear the ticking of his watch.
Finally, he said, “The whole day?”
“Why not?”
Again, silence.
What if he has plans? she asked herself, feeling her cheeks redden. He’s a good-looking, successful guy. Maybe he’s turned Pearl down because… “If you…if you have a date, feel free to bring her along,” she said. It surprised her a little to admit how difficult it had been to say that. Surprised her a lot to admit to feeling jealous. Jaina forced a note of cheeriness into her voice that she didn’t feel. “The more, the merrier, I always say.”
“I don’t have plans,” he said, overemphasizing the last word. Then, in a softer, almost pleading voice, “Are you sure it’ll be all right?”
He reminded her of the seven-year-old she’d found wandering the Columbia Mall a couple of weeks back.
She’d stayed with the boy until Security found his mother. He’d fought tears the entire time, repeatedly apologizing for being such a bother. “Why wouldn’t it be all right?” she asked Connor.
“Well…I get the feeling I’m not one of your mother’s favorite people.”
Put a hammer in the man’s hand, Jaina told herself. Can he hit the old nail on the head, or what! In this case, a fib was far kinder than the truth, and so Jaina said, “She doesn’t know you very well, that’s all.”
“Neither do you.”
He loved Liam. At least, she was pretty sure he did. How else could she describe the look that came over his face whenever the baby was around? “I know enough.”
“What can I bring?”
“Just yourself, and a big appetite. Mom always goes overboard with the potato salad.”
“Okay, then. What time does the parade start?”
“Nine. But it’s in Catonsville, and that’s a twenty-minute drive from the diner. You’d better be here by at least seven.”
“What!”
“You want a red, white and blue breakfast before we stake out curbside seats, don’t you?”
Chuckling again, he said, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Then be here by seven. The diner is closed for the holiday, so we’ll have the whole day to ourselves.”
“I’m looking forward to it. I’ll bring the gift I bought for Liam in New York. I left it in the car last time I was there and forgot to get it in all the, uh, confusion.”
She remembered the stern, disgusted expression that had darkened his handsome face when he saw the soggy hullabaloo in the diner. “I’m sure he’ll love it, whatever it is.”
“It’s kinda big.”
She’d pictured the trinkets folks generally brought home from New York, most of which could fit in a shirt pocket. “How big?”
“Your height, and maybe three times your width.”
“Good grief, Connor!” she said, half-laughing, “a toy that big for a baby this small? What were you thinking!”
“Truth is, I wasn’t thinking.”
“When you get here, come to the back door. It won’t be locked.”
“Gotcha.”
“By seven, then.”
“Right. Seven.”
Jaina hated to hang up, but she couldn’t for the life of her understand why. “G’bye,” she said.
“Bye.”
They seemed to be enmeshed in a contest of wills, each daring the other to hang up first. Grinning mischievously, Jaina said, “See you day after tomorrow.” She quickly added, “Of course, you’re welcome to stop by, or call, or both, before that.”
“I know.”
“They’re calling for rain on the Fourth, you know. Maybe you should bring a jacket.”
“Gotcha.”
She smiled. “Connor?”
“Yeah…”
“Hang up, okay?”
He chuckled. “Okay.”
And he did.
Jaina cut the connection and hung up, glancing at the calendar. A day and a half till the Fourth of July…
She pictured him in his crisp gray suit and sodden wing tips, slogging through the inch of water that had flooded the diner floor. He was kinda handsome, if you liked the button-down type. Did he own any casual clothing…sneakers, shorts, a T-shirt? She hoped so, because wouldn’t he look funny at the barbecue in a dapper suit?
Her smile faded as she realized she faced a much more serious question. How would she tell her mother she’d invited the fox into the henhouse? We might not even have to leave the diner to see fireworks, she thought, grinning halfheartedly.
By accepting the invitation, Connor was effectively deep-sixing any case he had against her for being an unfit guardian. He shouldn’t like her. Didn’t want to like her. Had no reason to like her.
But he did.
She’d been taking such good care of Liam. Showering her parents with love and respect. Treating the men and women who worked for her like family, and from what he’d seen in the moments before Rita led him upstairs to Jaina’s apartment, her customers got the same treatment.
Hard not to like a woman like that, he thought, tapping his pencil against the legal pad he’d been doodling on, especially with those big brown eyes and a smile that could melt a polar ice cap.
Connor didn’t know why he’d accepted her invitation. Visiting Liam was one thing—how else could he ensure the child would get to know him?—but spending a major holiday with Jaina Chandelle was another matter entirely.
He had feelings for her—a hard fact to admit.
But why? Because he was lonely? Connor didn’t think so. He’d been lonely for years, and it had never inspired him to willingly lay his head on a legal chopping block. And that’s exactly what you’ll be doing if you don’t get your emotions in check, he warned himself.
Did she realize that when she aimed that loving, motherly smile at Liam, she made Connor want to fill that dream house of hers with children…their children? Did she understand that the sound of her laughter reminded him of birdsongs and wind chimes and a myriad of other delightful, musical things? Did she know that when he looked into those big brown eyes of hers, he wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her?
Connor sighed. She’d stirred up a vat of trouble, that was for sure. Trouble with a capital T if he didn’t get a handle on his emotions…
Maybe she hadn’t stirred up the feelings. Maybe what he felt was merely the result of decades of feeling like an outsider. Maybe seeing her with Liam, dispensing maternal warmth and affection…maybe that was what had awakened his incredible yearning to start a family of his own.
He remembered the natural, easy way she’d plopped Liam onto her right hip and dotted his chubby cheeks with a hundred sweet kisses. Connor had wanted to stick his head between hers and Liam’s to find out for himself if those pink lips felt as soft as they looked.
And what about the time he’d watched her comb slender fingers through the baby’s curls? What would it be like, he’d wondered, to have those hardworking yet tender hands rearranging his hair?
Once, when Liam had started to fuss for no apparent reason, she’d cuddled him close and looked deep into his eyes. “Aw, don’t be grumpy, sweetie,” she’d cooed. “Let’s see your beautiful smile. That’s it! Where’s that shiny new tooth of yours, huh?” Her lovely voice alone would have been enough to soothe the child, but her hands and her lips had gotten into the act, and in no time the baby’s whimpers became happy giggles. Standing on the sidelines with his hands in his pockets, Connor had had to force himself to stop wondering what life might be like if she loved him that much.
She was everything he’d ever wanted in a woman, and then some. What was wrong with him anyway, that he’d never been able to attract someone like her, someone stable and secure, someone who seemed to like him for who and what he was rather than what he could buy her, or what he could do for her, or where he could take her?
But was she so different from all the other women he’d known? Did she like him for himself?
Or was the gentle, caring way she treated him directly related to the fact that she wanted something from him?
Liam.
Oh, Lord, he prayed, don’t let it be that.
Connor closed his eyes and conjured up her image. She was so tiny that the top of her curly-haired head barely reached his chin. His fingertips would probably meet if he wrapped both hands around her waist. He had a dim childhood memory of Christmastime, when his grandmother roasted chestnuts in the fireplace; the sheen and glow of their mahogany shells had fascinated him. Jaina’s hair was exactly the color of those chestnuts.
She didn’t seem strong enough to lift a basket of feathers, but he’d seen her heft a fifty-pound sack of potatoes as if it were the basket of feathers. And her hands… He’d exchanged handshakes with men whose grip didn’t possess such power and strength. And yet she’d touched his arm so gently, so tenderly when he told her there’d been no word about Kirs
tie, that if he hadn’t seen it, he might not have known she’d touched him at all. To have that sweetness aimed in his direction…
Knock it off, Buchanan! Running a hand through his hair, he took a swig of coffee. Best thing to do is stop focusing on her and start focusing on what’s good for the kid. Made perfect sense, since sooner or later, he and Liam would be sharing the house.
The house…
Her mother had told him about Jaina’s dream. You oughta just marry her…make her dream come true and avoid a court battle at the same time.
The idea struck him like lightning, knocking him back in his chair. Talk about comin’ out of left field… He swiveled to face the windows. The view of parked cars, shaded by saplings, was hardly distracting enough to push the concept from his mind. Marry her? Are you out of your everlovin’ head?
But he couldn’t shake it loose.
For the rest of the day, when he least suspected it, thoughts of Jaina pummeled his mind. As he was scheduling a meeting with Judge Thompson, he suddenly envisioned her on his front porch, smiling and waving goodbye as he headed for the office. Instead of writing “Tuesday, 2:30” in his appointment book, he’d called out, “Pearl, did you get those tickets for the Toronto Blue Jaina…uh…the Blue Jays game?”
He called a client to inform him about a postponement, then had a mental picture of Jaina standing in the foyer of his house, arms spread wide in welcome when he came in from work. He almost said “Ah, but it’s good to be home,” into the answering machine. While dictating a letter for Pearl to type, he imagined Jaina snuggled on the sofa, reading to Liam. He had to rewind the tape and erase the line that went something like “I couldn’t have ordered a better life if the Sears catalog had a ‘Terrific Wives’ section.”
And when he imagined her in his kitchen, feeding Liam mashed potatoes and strained carrots, he nearly slammed his fingers in a file drawer.
If he kept this up, he thought, reaching for his coffee, no self-respecting judge would let him adopt a goldfish, let alone a kid.
The telephone rang, startling him so badly he nearly overturned his mug. “Yeah?”
