Becca's Baby

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  She was hot and moist and tasted just like he’d known she would. Like Becca. God, he’d missed that taste.

  He’d just kiss her. That would be the compromise. Nothing more.

  “Mmm,” he groaned. Hearing his own voice surprised him. They weren’t speaking. Weren’t making love.

  Little sounds were coming from Becca’s throat. Hungry, wanton sounds. Sounds he’d never heard before.

  Will kissed her harder, covering her mouth completely, insatiably, mating his tongue with hers.

  The guttural sounds from her throat were driving him mad. Making him do things he’d never done before, or at least not in the same way.

  Stop! his mind yelled at her as he pulled her down beneath him, riding her wildly through their clothes, his penis down between her legs. She was making him insane.

  The friction of his frantic movements rode his boxers down. He continued moving against her until, growing impatient, he reached down and pushed them to his knees.

  His penis was free. Hard and heavy and free.

  Without thought, Will stopped at the triangle between Becca’s legs, pulling it to one side—just enough for him to find her moist opening and plunge himself inside.

  She was climaxing by the time he completed his first thrust. He climaxed on his second.

  It was the most incredible experience he’d ever had in his life.

  And he hated himself for what he’d done.

  SHE’D BEEN WRONG. She’d told Will that their making love wouldn’t have to change anything—except that it might help. It did change things. But not for the better.

  If anything, Will was more distant from her than ever. They were having sex often, nightly when they could manage it, but they weren’t making love anymore. For Will, adding sex to the equation only made his struggle worse. Becca could see that.

  She just didn’t know what she could do to help him.

  Rehearsals for the Fourth of July play, The Hero, were in full swing. The whole town seemed to be contributing as the teenagers brought Samuel Montford’s history to life. Parents were involved in set-and costume-making, merchants were donating supplies. A musical score had been written and the Save the Youth music program was participating, as well.

  Becca stopped in for rehearsal on the third Tuesday in June and was gratified to see how well everything was coming together. She watched the scene that depicted the discovery of gold in Shelter Valley just a couple of years after Samuel and Lizzie had settled there, and the corruption resulting from that discovery.

  There’d been an influx of prospectors and gold-miners who brought with them the greed and mistrust that accompanied many of the stakes in the Old West. The boys playing the prospectors were better than good, bringing the scene to such life Becca felt a shiver.

  Martha’s oldest daughter, Ellen, was on stage in the next scene, playing Grace Montford—Samuel’s granddaughter—who fell in love with George Smith—Mayor Smith’s father—an avaricious and crafty man who came to town, planning to make a fortune of his own. Though a handsome and superficially charming man, George Smith was empty inside. Grace married him, shared with him her portion of the Montford inheritance. Coming to Shelter Valley had paid off for him. And the town had been paying for it ever since.

  Becca knew the rest of that story. Leaving the auditorium for her next stop—Sari’s house, to see how her sister was doing with the costumes she was sewing—she remembered what her mother had told them about old George. Had he squandered Grace’s inheritance, the town of Shelter Valley might have been better off. But he hadn’t, of course. With his cold heart and calculating mind, he settled alongside the other Montford heirs and became a patriarch in his own right. The Smiths had always been a thorn in the side of the townspeople.

  “You’re not looking too good,” Sari said, greeting her at the door.

  “Other than this heat, I’m perfectly fine,” Becca said, dropping into a chair in Sari’s family room, soaking up the divine air-conditioned coolness while Sari went back to work at the cutting table she’d set up. “I saw Dr. Anderson just last week and everything’s fine. I’m getting enough rest, I’m eating well. Baby’s growing according to the charts.” Used to Sari’s honesty—a right she’d gained through sisterhood—Becca was surprised at her own defensiveness.

  “I wasn’t talking about your physical state, Bec,” Sari said softly when Becca had finished. “You don’t look happy.”

  Becca drooped, all the fire draining out of her. She watched Sari cut pieces from a bolt of brown fabric, told herself to get up and help. But at five and a half months pregnant in the Arizona heat, she just didn’t have the energy to move. The trek across town had done her in.

  “I’m not happy,” she announced baldly.

  “Because of Will?” Sari stopped cutting and glanced up.

  Becca looked around her at the furnishings that were more comfortable than fashionable, the sewing paraphernalia sitting on Sari’s table, the books and other objects on the ledge between the family room and the kitchen. All things that meant something to Sari. The house was clean, but it looked lived in. Like a home.

  Her own house just looked clean.

  Her eyes rested on the picture of Tanya on the mantel over the fireplace. Taken just a couple of weeks before Tanya died, it showed the sixteen-year-old grinning at the camera as if she owned the world.

  Sari’s only child. Lost to her. And Sari had the courage to live, anyway.

  Becca had been so frightened of losing her child that she’d contemplated not giving birth to it. That way her baby could never be taken from her.

  “It’s more than that,” she admitted, although if she could talk to Will, really talk to him, she’d feel a lot better.

  Sari was cutting fabric again.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about why I was going to have that abortion,” Becca admitted. “Maybe because Will needs answers so badly, I don’t know, but I’ve been trying to figure out what was really prompting me to do something that seemed so out of character to the people who know me best.”

  “And?”

  “I was afraid to have the baby.”

  “Yeah,” Sari said, unpinning the pattern she was using and placing it on another part of the material for repinning. “From the medical report you received, you had reason to be afraid.”

  Becca shook her head. “I don’t think it was just that,” she said, only now realizing it, as she voiced thoughts that had been haphazardly running through her mind.

  Raising her head, pins between her teeth, Sari mumbled, “Then what?”

  “I think I was afraid to have it because I knew I’d never survive losing it.” Becca looked at Tanya’s picture again. “Chances of me miscarrying were higher than if I’d been younger or had a baby before. Birth defects are still a distinct possibility. And if we make it through all of that…well then, the danger really begins. Then my baby goes out into the world and a million other things can befall him.”

  Hearing Becca’s anguish, Sari dropped the pins and the scissors, and came over to kneel beside Becca. Putting her head in her sister’s lap, she rubbed Becca’s leg.

  “I’m nothing but a coward,” Becca confessed.

  “Being aware of the dangers doesn’t make you a coward, Bec,” she said. “It makes you human!”

  Sari was so strong, Becca loved her more than she’d ever thought possible. Stroking Sari’s hair, she thought about letting it go at that. But she and Sari had always been honest with each other.

  “Not if I choose the easy way out so I don’t have to deal with them.”

  “But you didn’t!” Sari said. “You made the choice to have this baby.”

  But would she have if it hadn’t been for Will? If she hadn’t known how much her choice was hurting him?

  “And look what you do for Shelter Valley!” Sari said, her voice earnest. “You’re no coward, Bec. You stand up to Mayor Smith and you—”

  “George Smith can’t hurt me,” Becca broke in
, shaking her head. “This town has always been my haven. And I’ve been wondering lately if Shelter Valley’s maybe too much of a haven for me,” she said slowly. “A safe haven…”

  “What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with living in a safe place.”

  “There is when it keeps me safe from the trials and tribulations of the world.”

  Which was exactly what Will had said.

  “It’s safer than the big cities, that’s true,” Sari said, “but that doesn’t always keep terrible things from happening here.”

  As they both knew. Tanya had been killed two miles from home.

  “Besides,” Sari continued, laying her head back down, “living in a small town like this, a relatively safe, secure place, isn’t a bad decision. More of a smart one.”

  Becca shook her head. “Not if you’re choosing to live here because you’re running away.”

  Sari was quiet, the weight of her head on Becca’s lap a comfort.

  “Loving Will has always been safe and easy, too,” Becca whispered. “But now it’s not, and I’m afraid to do that, too.”

  “To love him?”

  Becca’s throat tightened with the tears she was fighting. “Yeah,” she said, her voice quavering.

  “He’s not sure about so many things. I really shocked him with wanting the abortion—and now I’m afraid to trust my heart to him, afraid I’ll do something else that will destroy his affection for me…”

  Sari hugged Becca’s legs as Becca’s voice trailed off.

  “I’m even…” Becca started and then stopped as tears got in the way again. “I’m even more afraid of losing him.”

  The room was silent for a time, the air conditioner’s steady hum the only sound.

  Becca’s hand stayed busy, smoothing Sari’s hair behind her ear. The motion was almost therapeutic.

  “Lately things haven’t been getting better with us. We seem sort of…stalled, and I spend all my time thinking about where we went wrong. I can’t just keep waiting for him, Sari, knowing there’s a chance that when all is said and done, he’ll be gone.”

  “Life doesn’t come with any guarantees, sis,” Sari said sadly.

  “I know.” Will says that, too.

  Both women were silent, comforting each other with their presence as the minutes passed.

  “Bec?” Sari asked softly after a time.

  “Yeah?”

  “Will you do something with me?”

  Sari sounded nervous, a little scared. Which scared Becca.

  “Of course,” she said, instilling confidence where she felt none. “What?”

  “Promise you won’t make a big deal of it—not at first, anyway?”

  “I promise.” Becca took a deep breath, bracing herself.

  Sari stood, urging her out of her chair. “Come on.”

  Following her sister through the house and back to the master bedroom, she asked, “Where’re we going?” But the question was mostly rhetorical. She didn’t really expect an answer.

  Heart pumping, stomach churning a little, Becca allowed herself to be pulled along. Her mind raced ahead, wondering what was in store, arming herself. Had Sari decided it was time to get rid of Tanya’s things? The ones she kept in a box on her bedroom shelf?

  “Okay,” Sari said, stopping as they reached the bathroom. She opened a cupboard, took out a familiar-looking box. “Here,” she said, handing it to Becca.

  Staring down at the home pregnancy test, Becca wondered for a second if her sister had lost her mind. Becca’s pregnancy was already confirmed. And more than obvious. Why would—

  “I want you to tell me how to use this,” Sari said, her voice shaking, “and then wait with me until I know.”

  “Until…” Becca looked up. “You?” she asked, tears springing to her eyes.

  Sari wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I don’t know,” she said tensely. And Becca remembered her promise not to make a big deal of things. Instantly she understood why. If Sari was wrong…

  “Okay, it’s really very simple,” she said confidently, as though they were baking bread, as though the outcome was no more important than a loaf of bread. She opened the box, showed Sari the simple steps and sent her off.

  And spent the next couple of minutes praying harder than she probably ever had.

  Sari’s face was pinched and white when she opened the bathroom door a couple of minutes later.

  “I don’t think I can handle the wait,” she said, and burst into tears.

  Pulling her sister into her arms, Becca sat with her on the end of the bed. “What if I’m wrong?” Sari cried. “I’ve gotten my hopes up, even though I knew I shouldn’t. I just can’t seem to help it.”

  “Does Bob know?” Becca asked. Her brother-in-law loved kids as much as Will did.

  “No.” Sari shook her head. “Not until I’m sure. I don’t want to disappoint him.”

  Becca thought back over the many similar tests she’d taken in the past twenty years, the times she’d cried herself to sleep on the bathroom floor when the result had been negative. She could certainly understand Sari’s reaction. And her fear.

  “How late are you?”

  “Two months.”

  “You’ve been keeping this to yourself for over a month?”

  Sari nodded. “Seemed kind of silly to get everyone worked up when it was probably just my nerves freaking out on me,” Sari said. “Bob and I have been trying ever since we had Tanya, and nothing’s ever happened. Why should now be any different?”

  Given her own situation, Becca had no answer to that. “Maybe the scarring from your problems with Tanya’s birth has thinned enough to allow fertilization.”

  “Does scarring do that?” Sari asked, sniffing.

  Becca thought about it. “I don’t know,” she said.

  “But it might.” Because Sari was listening and Becca was grateful for the distraction the topic was offering her younger sister, Becca went on to outline a couple of incidents she’d heard about involving scars that had changed over the years. Her college roommate who’d cut her hand washing a glass. A friend of their mother’s who’d been burned.

  “Oh, Bec,” Sari interrupted her suddenly. “I want this soooo badly…” Her voice broke and she started to cry again.

  Recognizing that Sari’s tears were, at least in part, a release of the tension she’d endured for the past month, Becca just kept an arm around her and let her cry.

  “Aren’t you a little bit afraid? Of being pregnant?” she asked when Sari finally quieted.

  “No,” Sari said, shaking her head. “Not yet, anyway. Right now, I just want this so badly it’s all I can think about.”

  “Even after losing Tanya?” Becca asked. Losing her niece had terrified her, had affected her feelings for the child growing inside her.

  Slipping to the floor at her sister’s feet, Sari took both of Becca’s hands in hers. “I had Tanya, Bec,” she said, her eyes filled with an odd peace and glowing with love. “Those were the best sixteen years of my life. I’d do them over in a heartbeat.”

  Afraid to finally know, to have her hopes crushed, Sari refused to check the test when the time was up. Becca rationalized until she was out of breath, and yet Sari did nothing but stare at the bathroom door with worried eyes.

  “You want me to do it?” Becca finally asked.

  “I just don’t want the answer to be no.”

  “There are no guarantees in life, sis,” Becca repeated Sari’s words back to her as she stood up.

  Sari grabbed her hand, holding her back. “Just don’t tell me the second you walk in the door,” Sari said. “That way, if the answer’s no, I still get a few seconds to hope…”

  Becca nodded and went into the bathroom. One glance, and she started to cry. Sari needn’t have worried; Becca couldn’t speak if she’d wanted to. She couldn’t get a single word out.

  “Becca?” Sari called, her voice filled with trepidation.

  Composing herself as best she could, Bec
ca turned toward the door, walked straight to Sari and threw her arms around her.

  “Congratulations, Mommy,” she whispered, and broke down completely.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  BECCA’S NEXT APPOINTMENT with Dr. Anderson, on Thursday, the second-last week in June, was another positive one. At five and a half months, she was still progressing normally. Her blood pressure had even fallen into the normal range.

  “How long can sexual activity continue?” Will asked the doctor as she measured Becca’s protruding stomach.

  Feeling herself blush, Becca wished he’d picked a better time to ask such a question. But she held her breath, anyway, waiting for the answer. She was starting to live for those moments of closeness with Will. As long as they were connecting—even in these silent sexual interludes—she had hope. Besides, Will’s tenderness during those nocturnal forays was sustaining her.

  “As long as everything proceeds normally, you should be able to continue intercourse into the last month,” the doctor answered after writing measurements down on Becca’s chart.

  Before they left, Becca told Dr. Anderson about Sari’s good news, asking if she had room for one more patient. Up to this point, her sister had been seeing a general practitioner in Shelter Valley, but with an “over forty” pregnancy, she’d agreed to Becca’s pleas to switch to a specialist in Phoenix. Will jumped in, too, telling the doctor about the child Sari had lost, how important this new pregnancy was to Sari and Bob—to all of them. The doctor smilingly agreed to fit Sari in.

  Then Dr. Anderson spoke with them about several tests she wanted to run on Becca—some of them optional—and told Becca to make appointments for those they chose to pursue.

  She and Will discussed those tests during the drive back to Shelter Valley. They’d both done a lot of reading on the subject.

  “I don’t think you need the amniocentesis, Bec,” Will said as soon as they were out of city traffic. “It’s painful, and even if it tells us there’s some kind of defect, we’re going to have the baby, anyway.”

  He was silent for a moment, then said, “Aren’t we?”