by Amy Knupp
“You have to look at the odds, Selena.”
“Tell that to Frank Werschler’s family.” She’d lain awake several nights thinking about the man from the mural’s wife and children, wondering what had become of them.
Evan stared out at a dolphin cruise boat in the distance for some time. Selena wished for the impossible—that he could somehow assure her he would always be safe. That he’d been thinking of getting out of the firefighting business and always wanted to be…a construction worker. Or about a thousand other jobs where he wouldn’t lay his life on the line every day.
“It’s a dangerous job sometimes. No way I can deny that. But we go through continuous training. We prepare for every possible type of situation we might run into. We do everything we can to stay safe.”
“But firefighters still die.”
“So do people who drive cars. Wall Street money guys. Farmers. People die, Selena, and it’s always going to suck.”
“Not good enough.”
Evan turned his whole body to face her there on the rocks. He held both his hands up to hers and laced their fingers together. “There’s never a guarantee, darlin’. Bad things happen.”
“But I have to do everything I can to prevent my child and myself from experiencing those bad things.”
“I’m going to be in this child’s life. You can’t prevent that, no matter how much it scares you.”
“So you think it’s okay to let the kid know you and love you when there’s an above-average chance that you could die? Really?”
“I think growing up without a parent is as bad as losing one.” He said it with such conviction that Selena narrowed her eyes, sensing there were things he hadn’t told her.
His eyes didn’t waver from hers.
“Yeah, I grew up without a father,” he said, letting her hands go. “Since you’ve been so honest about your background, I’ll tell you about mine.”
“You don’t have to, Evan,” she said hesitantly. Nothing he could say would change her mind, and though she did want to know more about him, what it came down to was that it wouldn’t solve anything.
“I do.” An edge of anger cut through his words. “You need to know where I’m coming from, because I’m not going to let this drop. I’m sorry as hell about your dad, and I understand why you don’t want to worry about losing someone else you care about, assuming you would someday grow to care about me. No doubt your brother’s accident tore you up even more.”
Anguish jabbed at her with the raw memory of that phone call from one of the army officers. The excruciating hours they’d spent waiting to hear if Tom would pull through.
“I’ve never met my father.” His voice broke on the last word and he was back to staring into the distance.
“He took off when my mom was pregnant with my sister and me. Didn’t give half a damn about the two lives he helped create. Talking about him was never allowed. If you wanted to make my mom lose her cool, all you had to do was ask about him. She’d transform into a raging, angry woman.”
“That had to be hard,” Selena said quietly.
“It wasn’t until I was about thirteen years old that I got the balls to ask her about him again.”
“And? Did she tell you anything?”
Evan shook his head. “She explained, in no uncertain terms, that the man who had fathered us did not deserve to be thought of as our dad. To her, he was dead. She refused to give us his name or any other details. ‘Just try to forget about him,’ she’d tell us. ‘He’s not worth a second of your time.’”
Selena could see the sense in his mom’s position. “She wanted to make it easier for you.”
“There was nothing easy about growing up without a dad. I know she meant well, but kids are mean. The things they said to Mel and me…” He shook his head. “My mom never knew how bad it got.”
“Lots of kids’ parents are divorced,” Selena said.
“And no one gave them any crap. It was that we didn’t even know who our dad was. I had to sneak to look up the word bastard in the dictionary in my second-grade classroom because I somehow knew it would make my mother scream if I asked her.”
“So you never found out who he was?”
“When I was old enough to figure out what to do, I got a copy of my birth certificate. She actually listed his name on it. It took me months but I eventually tracked him down.”
“Did you meet him?”
“Never got the chance. He had a heart attack and died in prison.”
“I’m sorry you never got to meet him.”
“I’m not. Only reason I wanted to stand face-to-face with him was to unleash years of anger.”
A large fishing boat passed relatively close to the shore and they watched it in silence. The captain waved and Evan nodded in response.
“I refuse to be anything like him, Selena,” Evan said with quiet conviction. “My children will know who their father is and they’ll know me, for better or worse.”
Tears—of frustration, of hurt for a little boy named Evan, of feeling torn in half—blinded her. “I’m sorry. I can’t take that risk.”
“You can’t just cut me out.”
“If I think it’s best for the baby, I can.”
“I won’t walk away, Selena.”
“It’s the only thing I can think of that might work.”
“Work for who?” His voice climbed in volume. “You think you’re the only one that matters?”
“No. We all matter, Evan,” she growled, trying to keep her voice down. “But the baby has to come first.”
She scrambled off the rocks, away from him, wishing she could scramble away from the entire dilemma, because she knew there was no perfect solution. As she hurried to the boardwalk, she wiped her eyes, trying to get rid of the tears that blurred her vision. She heard Evan behind her and sped up.
EVAN SAW the moment when Selena lost her footing. His heart stopped as she fell, and he saw the whole thing in slow motion. Even though he was only about twenty feet away when she went down, it seemed to take precious minutes to get to her.
Her head knocked against the railing and she landed on her tailbone with a thud. She lay there in silence, and awful thoughts tormented him in the two seconds it really took to reach her.
“Selena!” He knelt next to her and saw she was conscious.
Selena groaned and then rolled to her side away from him, curling into a fetal ball. Evan skittered around to the other side. She cried silently, her shoulders shaking.
“Selena, where does it hurt?”
She didn’t answer right away.
He pulled out his cell phone and called for an ambulance. He thought he remembered that Scott and Luis were working today, though he’d be comfortable with any of the paramedics he knew.
“Head,” she finally said. “Butt. Elbow.”
He examined her arm and guessed her elbow had taken the brunt of the fall. “Do you think you’re bleeding anywhere?” he asked.
She hesitated. Checked her hands and arms. Then shook her head. “I don’t see any blood.”
A siren wailed in the distance within a minute and a half. Selena opened her eyes and tried to sit up, but he gently held her down.
“You didn’t have to call them. I’m fine.”
“You hit your head and landed hard. You may feel fine, but we’re going to be sure both you and the baby are okay.”
“I fell on my butt. It hurts. That’s all.”
“I hope so. But you’re not getting out of this.”
The ambulance pulled up on the nearest road, which was a couple hundred yards away. Evan waved them down from his spot next to her at the end of the boardwalk.
Scott and Luis hurried toward them.
“These guys are the best, darlin’. Everything’s okay.”
“What the heck are you doing on this end, Drake?” Scott asked. “What’s going on?”
Evan told them what had happened and what he’d already checked.
Sc
ott asked her several questions and did a brief exam. When Evan mentioned her pregnancy, they decided to load her up and take her in, just to be safe.
“THE BABY LOOKS GOOD as far as I can tell right now,” Dr. Martin said later, after they’d poked and prodded Selena and run several different tests on both her and the fetus.
Evan had stayed by her side for every one of them, expecting her to order him out of the room. He wouldn’t have gone, but she didn’t ask. She seemed glad to have him there. He felt useless, which was frustrating as hell. All he could do was hold her hand.
“The bleeding concerns me a bit, but we’ll watch it. It appears to have stopped for now and wasn’t a large amount. The ultrasound doesn’t show any hint of a rupture.”
Selena closed her eyes in relief as Evan exhaled loudly.
“I want you to take it easy for the next three days. Bed rest.”
Selena groaned.
“Lying down. No lifting, nothing strenuous, and that includes sexual activity.” She looked at Evan pointedly and he shook his head.
“She’ll do nothing, Doctor. I’ll see to it.”
“I have work to do,” Selena said. “Deadlines.”
“Not if you want to take care of this baby,” the doctor said sternly. “I mean it, Selena. The deadlines will have to wait. I know it’s hard to sit still but you can’t push yourself. At all. Do you understand me?”
Selena’s defensiveness relaxed and she nodded. “I understand.”
Evan sat on the edge of her bed and caressed her arm. The only concrete damage they’d found was a mild concussion and the bleeding. But they’d checked the baby by ultrasound and the heart was still beating. He’d seen it with his own eyes.
It blew his mind to realize he’d be genuinely upset if they lost the baby. That unborn tiny little fetus had turned both his and Selena’s lives upside down, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of losing it. How was that possible?
“Will you be taking her home?” Dr. Martin asked Evan.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Is there someone who can be with you continually for a couple of days, Selena? Just to make things easy on you, wait on you hand and foot?”
“I’ll be okay,” Selena said.
“I’ll stay with her.” He’d find someone to work his shift tomorrow. A couple of the guys owed him a favor.
The doctor watched Selena for a reaction. It took a few seconds, but Selena finally nodded.
“If there aren’t any other options.”
“I’m it, darlin’,” he said, smiling.
Dr. Martin nodded and stood. “The nurse will be in with discharge directions in a few minutes. I want to see you in three days. Sooner, if you have any more bleeding or other problems.” To Evan she added, “Take care of her.”
“My pleasure,” he responded. “Though probably not hers.”
He hadn’t forgotten where they’d left off before her fall, and he knew that with nothing but time on her hands, they’d be revisiting it before the three days were over.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SELENA LAY ON her couch, knowing she was being a complete and utter pain in the ass. Okay, and maybe she was doing it on purpose. At least a little.
Her head throbbed with every beat of her heart and she refused to take any pain meds for it. The doctor had assured her it wouldn’t hurt the baby but Selena wasn’t taking any chances. She’d heard Dr. Martin’s mention of the possibility of the placenta ripping away from the uterine wall. She’d do anything to improve the baby’s odds.
The front door opened and Evan strode into the living room of the beach house.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“Nothing’s changed.”
He was being a rock star, verging on sainthood. Fetching whatever she asked for, dealing with her extreme grumpiness.
“Dinner is served,” he said, setting a large paper bag on the end table. “Spicy lasagna, bread sticks and salad. Double serving of Italian dressing on the side.” He held up a smaller plastic bag from the grocery store. “Half gallon of butter pecan ice cream, going to the freezer now.”
“Thank you,” she said. She annoyed even herself with her mood swings, but dammit, she was ticked off. She really did have work that needed to be done—like, yesterday. That she could even think about work after her fall… It had occurred to her that several of her problems would be solved if she were to lose this baby.
As soon as the thought had crossed her mind, the guilt had nearly suffocated her. What kind of a mother was she going to be? Was she going to be as bad as her own mom?
Unfortunately for Evan, he’d been the one to receive the brunt of her anger, guilt, worry, and the other two hundred emotions that’d stormed through her over the course of the day.
She slowly sat up and propped an extra cushion behind her back, then reached behind her head to grab the bag of food.
“Stop. I’ve got it,” Evan said as he came back into the room.
“You’re going to stop me from lifting a measly bag of food?”
“No. I’m going to stop you from dumping my dinner all over the floor. I’ve been breathing it in for the past twenty minutes and I plan to enjoy every last bite.”
As he spoke, he set the take-out containers on the floor next to him, unwrapped the plastic fork for her and scooped the lasagna onto two plates. He handed one to her.
“Thank you, Evan.”
“No worries. I’m starving, too.”
“I mean for everything. I’ve been unbearable today and yet here you are, still taking care of me.”
“Like I said, I’m just hungry.” He grinned and sat on the floor, his back against the couch.
“Yeah. And I’m a good candidate for motherhood.”
He’d just shoved a bite into his mouth and turned to study her, saying around the food, “Where the hell did that come from?”
“The heart.” She took her first bite of pasta and tried to ignore him.
“We talked about that, Selena. If you want to be a good mom, you will be.”
She took her time chewing, then reached for the glass of water he’d gotten for her earlier. “You think my mom just stopped wanting to be good?”
“What happened with her, Selena? What went wrong between you two?”
Selena closed her eyes and shook her head. “I wish I knew,” she said softly. “After my dad was shot, she was never the same. It’s like she went cold.”
“You could never be cold.”
“I used to think that about her.”
He watched her for several seconds. “Have you ever talked to her about it?”
“We don’t have much of a talking-about-things relationship.”
“Maybe you should try. For your own peace of mind.”
Selena hated every bit of this conversation so she didn’t respond.
“I don’t want you to stay here tomorrow,” she said after several minutes of silence. “You need to work.”
“Too late. I got Rafe to take my shift.”
“I’ll be fine by myself. Really.”
“Then I’ll stay out of the room so you won’t know I’m here.”
“Evan, I mean it. I don’t want to owe you any more than I already do….”
“Owe me? Seriously? Tell me you didn’t really mean to say that.”
“I meant it.”
“How many times do I have to tell you…you don’t owe me. For anything. You have to carry the kid. The least I can do is get you dinner or keep you company when you can’t move.”
Selena was about to disagree when someone knocked on the door.
Evan set his food on the floor and got up to answer it. “Expecting anyone?”
She shook her head. “Maybe it’s Macey.”
“She has to close the bar tonight.”
Selena shrugged. She didn’t really care who it was, as long as Evan made the intruder go away. Fatigue was setting in and she wasn’t sure she could even finish her meal.
“Can I help you?” she heard Evan ask.
“I’m looking for my daughter. Is Selena here?” No. No way. Her mother was not really here.
“You’re Selena’s mother?” There was surprise in his voice and she knew it was because her mom looked young enough to be her sister, thanks to plastic surgery.
“Where is my daughter?”
Nice manners, Mom.
“I’m in here! Evan, go ahead and let her in.”
Her mom barreled down the hallway, heels clicking on the tile floor.
“Thank you, God.” Clara Cambridge-Jarboe was dressed in black slacks and a burgundy cashmere sweater. In full makeup and three-inch heels, she toted a Prada purse big enough to stow a small child. The only telltale sign that she’d just traveled across the country was that her hair was less than perfect, with a couple of auburn strands out of place. “Now that I’ve laid eyes on you, I’ll return in a moment.”
Before Selena could say a word, her mother had clicked back down the hall out of sight. Evan appeared at the entrance to the living room, his eyes narrowed.
“That’s your mother.”
It wasn’t really phrased as a question but Selena nodded anyway.
“She arrived in a stretch limo. Won’t even fit in the driveway.”
Selena rolled her eyes but wasn’t surprised. Her mother would sooner fly directly back home than be caught in a regular taxi.
EVAN STARED at Selena but she didn’t say a word. He went back to the door, completely baffled by the woman who’d just shown up. She was making her way toward the house again, climbing the single flight of stairs from the driveway, as out of place here on San Amaro Island as a black stallion among dairy cows. She was dressed to the hilt and though Evan didn’t know the first thing about ladies’ handbags, the one she carried looked like it cost more than his truck.
Then the limo driver appeared, loaded down with three enormous bags. He was following her to the house, Evan realized. And the woman didn’t appear the least bit bothered that she was only carrying her purse while the driver could barely walk.
It struck him that the pregnant woman on the couch was more of a stranger to him than he’d ever guessed.
