Almost Married

by Carol Grace

  Chapter One

  Laurie Clayton, meet your goddaughter.”

  Laurie held out her arms and took from her friend Gretel the most adorable baby she’d ever seen. The baby’s little fingers tangled in Laurie’s hair and her sweet smell filled her with a bittersweet longing for a child of her own. “Oh, Gret, she’s sooo cute. A perfect angel.”

  Gretel sighed. “You wouldn’t say that if you’d heard her crying all the way down to the airport. She’s teething and it’s been awful.” Laurie hugged the baby to her and Morgan gurgled happily. “She likes you,” Gretel said, then surveyed her friend carefully. “Still slim, gorgeous and single. How come? I thought you’d be the first to take the plunge and have a family. You like kids so much.”

  “Yes, well, it’s still customary to get married first,” Laurie said ruefully. “Like you did. Like my sister did.”

  Gretel nodded understanding. “You wait here with Morgan. I’ll get the car from the garage and bring it around.”

  Laurie hardly noticed Gretel was gone, she was so entranced with this baby, this miracle of soft skin and round, chubby cheeks. The baby gave her a toothless smile and Laurie thought she’d landed in paradise instead of Buffalo, New York.

  “I’ll let you get over your jet lag tonight,” Gretel promised as they headed out of town into the fertile farmland of upstate New York where Gretel and her husband raised apples, “but tomorrow I’m going to give you the royal tour, from the museum to the zoo and last but not least, Niagara Falls!”

  “All in one day?”

  Gretel laughed. “We’ve got five whole days before I join Steve in Seattle. Plenty of time to see everything and let you get to know Morgan. If you’re sure you’re still up for baby-sitting for two weeks.” Gretel shot an anxious glance at her best friend.

  Laurie turned her head to smile at her goddaughter. “Of course I’m up for it,” she assured Gretel. “I can’t wait to have her all to myself. You’re right, I’ve always liked kids. And I adore Morgan already. Her pictures don’t do her justice. You don’t have to entertain me. I’ll be happy to help out around the place. With Steve gone away to school, you must need help picking apples or something.”

  “We’ve got a small staff who do the year-round stuff, spraying, grafting, but during harvest a whole crew comes in to work. By that time Steve will be back to oversee the whole thing.” She turned to smile at Laurie. “I’ve been waiting for you so we can relive those carefree days when we were young and foolish, when we flew from coast to coast, flight attendants without a care in the world except which restaurant to go to and which guy to go out with. We’ll put Morgan in the back seat with her teething ring and we’ll be off.”

  Laurie noticed Morgan had nodded off and was sleeping peacefully in her car seat, her pale eyelashes dusting her fair skin, her cheeks the color of her pink dress.

  “We’re in apple country now,” Gretel explained, waving her hand at the green fields dotted with heavily laden fruit trees, “one of New York state’s major crops.”

  Laurie tore her eyes from the sleeping child to look out the window at the acres of trees, trying to pay attention to what Gretel was saying. Young and foolish. Laurie didn’t ever want to be young and foolish again, not foolish enough to fall in love with a married pilot and foolish enough to believe him when he said he loved her.

  Gretel continued her lecture on the cultivation of apples until they arrived at a cobblestone house set on a rise above the orchard. Laurie stood in the living room of the vintage structure admiring the rustic furniture, the Native American blankets hanging on the wall and the huge old fireplace while Gretel rushed to answer the ringing telephone in the kitchen.

  When Gretel reappeared with Morgan in her arms, her expression was anxious and her face a shade paler than before. “That was Steve,” she said. “He’s finished his agriculture course early and wants me to come right away.”

  Laurie spread her arms out, palms up. “Well, why not? I’m here. You haven’t seen him in what, six weeks? You haven’t taken a vacation together since your honeymoon. I say go for it.”

  Laurie hugged her daughter to her and sat down on the couch. “You’re right, I know you’re right. It’s just that—I’ve never even left Morgan overnight before. When you offered to stay with her I was—I am so grateful. But...” Gretel’s lower lip trembled as she buried her face in her daughter’s red curls.

  Laurie watched the interplay between mother and daughter and her heart filled with sympathy and a touch of envy. If things had been different, if she’d been more sensible...

  “It must sound silly to you,” Gretel went on, “but you’ll understand when you have a baby of your own.”

  One of her own. Laurie felt a lump form in her throat. With her luck she had small hope of having one of her own, let alone finding a man to have a baby with. She nodded at Gretel. “I understand perfectly.”

  “You’re a true friend,” Gretel said earnestly, “the best. Don’t think I don’t appreciate what you’re offering, staying with a teething baby while I fly off to take a second honeymoon. If I weren’t such a worry-wart… Come on,” Gretel said, getting to her feet. “You must be tired. I’ll show you your room. I told Steve I’d sleep on it and let him know tomorrow.”

  The guest room was furnished in the same style as the rest of the house, with a handmade quilt on the antique iron bed frame and a large oak armoire against the wall. After Gretel said good-night and took the baby with her down the hall, Laurie sat on the edge of the bed, her stocking feet resting on a handwoven braid rug, and tried to stifle the feelings of envy that threatened to engulf her. A charming old house, a husband and a baby. What more could anyone want?

  She shook off her unbecoming feelings and got undressed. In bed, snuggled under a fluffy comforter, Laurie told herself now that she’d quit her job with the airline and forgotten about the handsome but married pilot who’d nearly broken her heart, she had her whole life ahead of her, that anything was possible, that all her dreams could come true. But the niggling questions remained: How, When, Where and Who?

  The next day Gretel called Steve back and told him she couldn’t leave so soon and she and Laurie and Morgan headed off to see the sights. Morgan was tucked safely in her car seat, gnawing happily on her teething ring. It was Gretel who didn’t look happy. Not the next day nor the day after that. No matter how interesting the pictures in the art museum or how dazzling the view of Ontario from the Peace Bridge, she was racked with indecision about when to leave.

  “So, Morgan,” Laurie said one afternoon as she held the little girl in her lap and fed her applesauce. “Shall we put your mother on the next plane for Seattle before she has a chance to change her mind?” Each day Laurie found herself growing more attached to her goddaughter, and Morgan was more willing to go to Laurie when her mother was tired or busy.

  Gretel gave Laurie a wry smile. “How did you know what I was thinking?” she asked.

  “Intuition,” Laurie answered. “I’ve known you a long time. Longer than Morgan here. And she and I agree that it’s time for you to cut the cord. Vamoose, skeedaddle, be on your way.”

  Reluctantly Gretel met Laurie’s gaze. “But we haven’t seen the Falls yet. I’ve been saving it for last. And a friend of Steve’s was going to give us a personal tour. A gorgeous guy. I wanted you to meet him.”

  “Morgan and I can see the Falls on our own. We don’t need a guide, no matter how gorgeous, do we, Morgan? After we drop you at the airport, we’ll go.” Laurie put Morgan in her high chair and reached for the phone. “I’ll make the reservation for you. You’re ready. You’ve been packed for days.”

  Gretel listened to Laurie and watched her write down the flight information. She didn’t say yes and she didn’t say no. Sh
e did call Steve, though, and gave him her flight number. She didn’t change her mind, but she came close. She hugged Morgan and said goodbye a dozen times. At the airport she walked down the long tunnel to the plane with one very wistful backward glance at Laurie and her daughter. Laurie smiled confidently and even Morgan waved to her mother before the plane took off.

  Laurie turned to Morgan in her arms just as the baby screwed up her face into a frown and began to scream.

  Chapter Two

  Once in her car seat, Morgan turned bright red and flailed her arms in anger and frustration. It could have been her teeth, but Laurie suspected she was witnessing separation anxiety the likes of which she’d never imagined. And Gretel had barely left!

  Laurie gripped the steering wheel tightly and wondered what to do. She realized, belatedly, that she didn’t know anything about babies except that she wanted one. Would Morgan prefer to go home or would she rather see Niagara Falls the way her mother had planned before she took off? Morgan didn’t say. She just cried as if her heart were broken.

  So Laurie decided on the Falls. Maybe Morgan needed a distraction. Laurie certainly did. With one hand on the steering wheel, she reached into the glove compartment with the other for the map. Gretel had marked the route and Laurie soon saw the signs for the tollway.

  Laurie kept driving and Morgan kept crying until they reached the parking lot for the viewing area of Niagara Falls. The noise of the white water was thunderous, almost loud enough to drown out Morgan’s sobs. Laurie unbuckled the baby from her seat, shoved the car keys into her pocket and grabbed Morgan’s backpack and diaper bag, all the while keeping up a line of chatter designed to soothe the child. With Morgan on her back and the diaper bag over her arm, Laurie approached the fence and gasped at the sight.

  The water cascaded to a two-hundred foot drop sending a mist back up into the air. It was stunning. It was breathtaking. But not to Morgan. Her wailing reached new heights. Other tourists stopped snapping pictures of each other and looked at the baby. A man at the edge of the crowd stared at them. Probably wondering what torture Laurie was inflicting on the poor child.

  “Please, Morgan,” Laurie begged under her breath. “Please don’t cry. Look at the Falls. Aren’t they beautiful?”

  Laurie sank down onto a wooden bench, lifted Morgan out of the backpack and onto her lap. And Morgan continued to cry. Desperate, Laurie reached into her pocket, pulled out her car keys and rattled them in front of Morgan.

  The baby stopped crying instantly, grabbed the keys out of Laurie’s hand and threw them over the fence and down into the depths of the turbulent Niagara River.

  Laurie gasped, stood and looked with disbelief into the white water. “Morgan,” she breathed, “what have you done?” A better question was, what had Laurie done, handing her keys to a baby to play with?

  Cooper Buckingham asked himself the same question as he watched the improbable scene unfold from only ten feet away. Who could be so dumb as to give a baby her keys? What would she do now, he wondered, call her husband to come and get her? Thank God he wasn’t married to a ditzy blonde like that. He wasn’t married to anyone or he wouldn’t be a consultant with a new job every few months—this one at the Niagara Power Project. Normally he didn’t take time out to stand and stare at a woman with a baby, but that baby over there had started crying again now that the keys were gone.

  What would the tall, slender blonde with the bright spots of color in her cheeks do next? He didn’t wait to find out. He’d seen enough. Let the baby’s father rescue them. He had problems of his own to worry about. Problems that involved water flow, hydropower, transmission lines, turbines and spin generators. And these problems almost always kept him too busy to contemplate the problems or pleasures a family might provide.

  Just before he turned to leave, the woman looked in his direction, straight into Cooper’s eyes, as if she’d read his thoughts, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. The look she gave him might have also been a plea for help. If it weren’t for the proud tilt of her chin, it would have been. But somehow he knew this woman wasn’t used to asking for help.

  And even if she asked, what could he do? He knew nothing about babies, or how to retrieve car keys from the bottom of the Falls, had no interest in blondes with the cool, devastatingly beautiful good looks with or without babies. Assuring himself that her husband would be along any minute, he shrugged, turned his back on her and headed toward the nearby hotel where he was staying.

  Laurie staggered back to the parking lot with Morgan over one shoulder, clutching the diaper bag and the backpack in her hand. There she leaned against Gretel’s Jeep, her knees threatening to buckle underneath her. But the longer she stayed there, so close to the car she couldn’t drive, the more she felt like bursting into tears of her own.

  It was Sunday afternoon and she was on the edge of Niagara Falls, surrounded by tourists, miles from the nearest Jeep dealer, with no way to get there. She looked at her watch. It was past Morgan’s lunchtime. It was past her lunchtime, too. Maybe she’d think more clearly if she had something to eat. Maybe Morgan would stop crying if she had something to eat. Still dragging all the baby paraphernalia, she headed for the hotel on the other side of the road.

  The waiter in the carpeted dining room showed them to a table by the window and brought a high chair for the baby. Laurie pulled a bottle of juice from Morgan’s bag. The little girl gulped thirstily. “Is that what you wanted, sweetheart?” Laurie said hopefully. If only she weren’t so worried, she could enjoy the spectacular view of white water and cliffs and boats in the river below, but her mind spun frantically even as she ordered a club sandwich and a sparkling water.

  But before her sandwich arrived, Morgan put her juice down and wrinkled her face into a grimace. Laurie knew what was coming next. An earsplitting scream followed by loud wailing.

  They couldn’t stay in the dining room. She should have chosen the coffee shop, or better yet, a hole in the ground to hide. Now there was nowhere to go. Laurie bent over and reached for a handful of toys and a jar of baby food from the large, lined bag and frantically pried the lid open. But Morgan ignored her toys and the strained beets. Morgan’s attention was somewhere else. And then suddenly she was waving her arms happily, cooing and gurgling at something or someone more interesting across the room.

  Laurie turned to see what it was. There, not two tables away, sat the man from the parking lot. The man who’d given her a look that said more clearly than words that she was an idiot for giving the baby her car keys, that she never should have brought a crying, teething baby to the Falls in the first place. The look he’d given her contained not a shred of sympathy for her plight, just disapproval and disbelief.

  Quickly she turned her back on him and gave her attention to the baby who was now playing peekaboo with the stranger from behind her chair. “Morgan,” she whispered urgently, “stop that right away. Leave the man alone. He’s not your type. Not mine, either,” she added. She was through with good-looking men who didn’t like children. She could spot them a mile away and she wasn’t going to let her goddaughter fall for one the way she had.

  “Look,” she said, unwrapping a cracker and showing it to Morgan. But Morgan wasn’t interested. She was too busy flirting with the man. And what was he doing? Laurie didn’t want to know. On the other hand, she felt an uncontrollable urge to take another look at him. Just to make sure she wasn’t wrong about him.

  No, she wasn’t. He was looking at Morgan with a reluctant half smile on his ruggedly handsome face. But when he suddenly shifted his gaze toward Laurie she felt her pulse race uncontrollably. What was wrong with her? She, who’d been hit on by all kinds of men in all kinds of restaurants, bars and airplanes, was reacting to a glance from a stranger? She told herself to stay cool, told herself to ignore the tingling feeling traveling up and down her spine as their eyes met, broke apart and met again.

  The nerve of the man. Making time with her goddaughter and now her, too. This was ri
diculous. She forced herself to turn back to the table, deliberately picked up the wine list and studied it like a connoisseur, although she never drank during the day. Her cheeks were hot and her skin was shivery. She had the distinct feeling the man was still looking at her and that he’d left his table and was walking toward them.

  When she tore her eyes from the leather-bound list of wines, she saw she was right. The man was standing behind the vacant place at their table, his broad fingers spread across the back of the empty chair. He reached into his pocket and held up a small plastic troll with blue hair.

  “Is this yours?” he asked.

  Laurie’s already flaming cheeks turned even redder. “Thank you,” she said, holding out her hand.

  “I found it in the lobby,” he said, handing it to Morgan.

  Embarrassed, Laurie drew her hand back. Meeting the man’s gaze up close was different from meeting it across the viewing area or even from two tables away. His eyes were a deep blue and flashed with enough energy to make her toes curl inside her walking shoes.

  “Maybe you dropped it,” he said, sliding into the vacant chair at their table.

  Laurie opened her mouth to answer when she saw he was talking to Morgan. She was getting irritated at being left out of this conversation. “Or maybe it fell out of the bag,” she said. “In any case, we’re grateful to you.” So now you can go, she thought.

  “I thought it was hers,” he said, unaware of her hostility. “I noticed her in the parking lot.”

  “She noticed you, too,” Laurie admitted. She didn’t admit she’d done her share of noticing, too. “I think you remind her of someone.” He reminded Laurie of someone, too, someone she’d rather forget.

  “Her father?” he asked.

  Laurie let her gaze drift from the dark hair that slanted across his forehead to the strong jaw and the broad shoulders. She shook her head. “No, not her father.” Morgan’s father was stocky with red hair.