The Baby Claim

by Catherine Mann

  “She’s worried her job will go away,” Broderick said without hesitation, settling on the most benign answer he could find, because he was not talking about the kiss or his hopes of renewing their relationship.

  “Valid concern about the job, really.”

  It was premature to discuss who the CFO would be. He was still hoping she would choose a different job and remove the controversy altogether. “She wants her mother to be happy.” There was plenty of drama to go around. “And she’s attached to the child already. She’s afraid of the kid getting lost in the system and she is not going to want to let that child go.”

  A pause stretched over the phone line before Marshall continued, “Even if the baby was the product of her husband cheating?”

  “I believe so.” And what did that mean for him? Broderick wanted Glenna, but was he prepared to use, really use, the baby to get her? He was a tough businessman, but the harshness of using a child for leverage gave him pause.

  “If she already is so attached to this kid, what’s going to happen if the baby turns out to be yours?”

  Damn good question. He hoped she’d say yes to his proposition and make that question void. But no matter what occurred, their time together was only going to get more complicated once the answers about the baby came through.

  Leaning back against the counter again, he watched Glenna stand, then her slender silhouette disappeared as she went into Fleur’s room to put the baby down for the night.

  Complicated didn’t even begin to describe this scenario.

  If he wanted to win Glenna back in his bed—and he did—he would have to step up his game.

  * * *

  Jack dived into his indoor pool, the warm waters enveloping him. He had never been much for team sports, other than watching his kids play. His life was already complicated enough, at home and at work. He enjoyed recreation that afforded him time alone or one-on-one moments with those important to him. Outdoors when possible, but he kept indoor options available for himself and wearing out his kids. Like with this pool and an indoor gym.

  He gravitated toward activities like fishing, hunting, swimming and sledding. He’d tried teasing Glenna that he could turn Kota into a sled dog.

  She hadn’t laughed.

  Stroking easily, he kicked toward the other end of the pool, where Jeannie lounged on the steps. The rippling water did little to mute the appeal of her body in a sleek black swimsuit. He got plenty of time alone with her these days as their kids kept their distance, communicating via email about progress on baby Fleur and the merger of the companies.

  The child was about the only issue where they agreed.

  His and Jeannie’s efforts to smooth over the blended family transition weren’t going as planned. And he could sense her frustration growing. More and more each day. If she asked him one more time if they should delay the wedding, he was going to blow a gasket.

  A final kick underwater propelled him the rest of the way to Jeannie’s side. He broke the surface next to her and turned to sit on the stone steps. The hot tub bubbled a waterfall into the main pool.

  She skimmed her elegant arms along the surface, trailing her hands. Her ring finger was still bare, but they’d met with a jeweler to have one custom made. “Maybe we should delay the wedding.”

  Damn it.

  He ground his teeth and held his temper in check, wishing some of the snowflakes on the glass ceiling could rain down on his heated feelings. “Jeannie, if we back down now, our stubborn children will just keep pushing. We taught them their negotiation skills. We shouldn’t be surprised they’re using them against us.”

  “What if this push and tug isn’t a game?” She tucked a damp blond strand into her hair band, gathering her locks on top of her head. “What if they really mean it? What if one or more of them cuts off from the family?”

  “You’re borrowing trouble. They’re blood. They’re not going anywhere.” He refused to accept otherwise. This was the time in their lives where he and Jeannie should be handing over the reins and enjoying at least a partial retirement. He wanted her to enjoy these recreational moments and relax.

  Except life kept getting tenser. He pressed his leg against hers.

  “Jack, are you certain?” Her forehead furrowed and she inched away from him. Again. “Because I’m not.”

  “Yes, I’m sure of that.” He reached for her hand, only to have her avoid his touch. “But I’m starting to wonder if there’s something more going on here. Do you want to delay the wedding because you are having doubts?”

  “Honestly?” She inhaled deeply, her hands clenching into fists. “I’m worried about you. You lost a child already. I don’t want to be the cause of you losing another.”

  Her words chilled him as surely as if the ceiling had opened up to dump the snow on top of them.

  “That’s not the same, Jeannie, and not playing fair.”

  Her jaw thrust forward, stubbornness stamped all over her features. “You wanted to know what I’m thinking and there it is. I don’t know if I can live with myself if I cause you to lose another child in any fashion.”

  “I call bull.” He pointed, stabbing the water with his finger and letting flow the words he’d been bottling, the thoughts he’d been denying. “I think you’re looking for an excuse to back out because things are getting tough and you’re afraid of losing your kids. You’re flinching at the clinch of the negotiation.”

  “This isn’t a negotiation, Jack,” she said, her voice rising with frustration. She shot to her feet, water dripping from her body as she stalked out of the pool. “This is our lives. Our children. Our hearts.”

  He followed her, fear filling his gut. He took her hand just as she reached for a fluffy towel. “You are my heart.”

  “It’s not that simple.” She turned to face him, their hands clasped between them.

  “For me, it is just that simple.”

  She shook her head, backing away. “You’re deluding yourself. Life is never as simple as ‘love solves all.’”

  Her words sank in, but more than the words, he saw her face. Felt her letting go, his whole world slipping out of his grasp. “You’re breaking things off.”

  “I just... I need...” She gathered a towel to her chest and backed toward the changing room. “I’m going home, and no, I don’t know when I’ll be back. Jack, please honor that. We need space right now.”

  As he stood with water pooling around his feet, he could do nothing more than let her go. For now. His heart was broken, but he would not let that defeat him. He refused to believe he wouldn’t have the chance to place an engagement ring—and wedding band—on her finger.

  He would do whatever it took—when the time was right—to convince that stubborn woman they were meant to spend the rest of their lives together.

  * * *

  Glenna had just settled Fleur down for the night. The day in the snow had been exhausting—and rewarding.

  Quietly, she slid shut the barn-like door to the baby’s room and made her way back to the living area where—

  Her stomach flipped and her heart squeezed. She blinked, barely able to believe her eyes. But sure enough, a lovely, thoughtful gesture was laid out for her. A small dinner table had been pulled in front of the crackling fire. A romantic gesture—the kind born of simplicity and earnestness. This man could afford to hire legions of caterers. Writing a check was easy for someone like him—or her. She knew the effort that had gone into what he’d done for her.

  Two bowls of stew with steam rising framed a plate of thickly sliced bread. The Steele family’s personal beer label on a large longneck bottle glinted in the firelight. Two beer mugs were filled with the pale foaming brew.

  A real home-cooked dinner. It’d been ages since she eaten something that wasn’t ordered in or prepared by professional staff. Even when home, she avoided the kitchen. Co
oking for one had been difficult, a glaring reminder that rendered her husband’s death all the more palpable.

  This gesture touched her heart on so many levels.

  A candle flickered on the table, adding to the spicy aroma of the caribou stew. They both could buy whatever they wanted, which made the personal touch and effort mean more to her.

  He draped a hand towel over his arm and smiled with that wicked glint in his brown eyes. “Dinner is served.”

  His attention was completely on her. A heady sensation. She felt the warmth of his gaze touch her skin, send her reeling. He looked so sexy, standing with the chair pulled out for her, his dark hair slightly messy.

  “Thank you, Broderick. This is truly thoughtful of you.” She took her seat, enjoyed the brush of his fingertips as he guided the chair forward.

  “I realize you’ve been doing the bulk of baby care. It’s only fair I pull my weight where I can. I’m definitely a better cook than I am a diaper changer,” he joked, his laughter rumbling up to the vaulted ceiling.

  The beauty of the fire was nothing compared with the magnetism of this man as she sat across from him. Needing to break the spell, she looked out the window, drank in the fading sun splashing the little valley in orange and red, recalling an artist’s palette.

  The scenery, too, failed to distract her, being just as romantic as this dinner. She might as well surrender to the moment.

  She picked up her spoon, scooped up a bit of stew. Silence lingered between them as she tasted the first bite. The flavor rolled along her taste buds. Bliss. She’d had caribou stew before but nothing like this. She couldn’t hold back a sigh of delight.

  “Oh my, this is... I don’t even have words to do it justice. Such rich flavor. I could go on, but I’m too hungry.” She spooned up another taste as he laughed.

  His smile of appreciation sent a thrill tingling through her. Everything about this moment had her senses on high alert, like a conduit in a lightning storm.

  Across from her, the fire whispered its approval, flames leaping like dancers in a perfectly coordinated ballet. A structured, beautiful dance. Much like the one she had to perform now, to keep this surprisingly thoughtful, yet devilish man from making her life more complicated.

  They ate quietly, the food so delicious she realized how truly famished she was. Her finger brushed his when they both reached for a piece of bread. Glenna’s cheeks flooded with heat, but she hoped the firelight disguised the betrayal of her feelings.

  Zeroing in on the sight of the mountain and elk emblem on the Steele logo, she realized she felt strangely comfortable here. Glenna felt the weight of his gaze on her, and looked up.

  He tipped his head to the side, his eyes narrowing quizzically. “What happened to you?”

  Such a loaded question.

  “Care to be more specific?” She took a slow sip of her beer, enjoying the hoppy flavor.

  “You used to be so...open.” He set aside his half-eaten piece of bread and leaned forward.

  “You mean back when I was naive? Before I married a man who cheated on me?” The darkness in her tone came as a defense to the pain she’d experienced.

  Broderick shook his head, eyes shifting to hers. “No, I don’t mean that. Not at all. In college, you were funny and you smiled. God, you smiled in a way that slayed me.”

  “I haven’t lost my sense of humor. I smile, and I help others. Maybe you’re the one who’s changed,” she volleyed back. And damn it all, she’d lost her husband barely a year ago.

  She’d only just started to venture into the dating world and she hadn’t slept with anyone. She couldn’t deny, though, that she craved companionship. She’d missed these sorts of meals and conversations with a man, sharing daily life. And she didn’t know how to reconcile that with her fear of investing in another relationship.

  “Oh, there’s no question that I’ve changed,” he admitted. “But we’re talking about you. I know you’re funny and I see your smile, but it’s so dark.”

  Playing with her spoon, stirring it through the stew, she shrugged to keep her eyes from lingering on his bold jaw. Yet dropping her gaze only brought into view his strong hand holding the mug of beer.

  She cleared her throat. “It’s called seeing the world.” Of course she wasn’t doe-eyed anymore. Reality had forced her to adapt her fairy-tale dreams.

  “Not everyone lets the world make them into a cynic. I know you’ve been hurt, but—”

  “But nothing. I don’t think you’re one to offer advice on getting over loss.” Her head tilted toward the baby’s room. Pushing out her chair, she stood, attentive and determined. “I think I heard Fleur again.”

  Thankfully.

  * * *

  He would have thought she was lying about the baby needing her. And perhaps that had been her original intent in shooting up from the table to get away from his attempt at a more serious conversation.

  But now the baby’s screams were piercing, so much so even Kota was running in circles, agitated and fretting.

  They’d both dashed to Glenna’s room, where the portable crib had been set up. Broderick’s heart hammered at the distress—hell, ear-popping misery—in Fleur’s cries. He scooped her from the crib, pulled her close, but the cries didn’t stop.

  Working as a team, wordlessly he and Glenna channeled through the obvious. They changed her diaper. Tried to feed her, but Fleur rejected the bottle and it wasn’t really feeding time, anyway. They burped her again and again in case it was gas. They took her temperature. Played music. Kept quiet. Gave her a bath.

  And now nothing worked except pacing the floor.

  He held the baby to his shoulder and patted her back like he’d seen the child care workers do at the on-site center. But damn it all, it wasn’t working. “I think I’m doing something wrong.” His forehead creased, anxiety flooding back into him.

  “You’re doing fine.” Glenna shook her head, offering an encouraging smile.

  “Maybe I’m patting too hard.” What if he was hurting her? He would never be able to live with himself if that was the case.

  “You’re probably not patting hard enough. She’s not a butterfly.”

  Her lashes sure felt like butterflies against his cheek. Damp butterflies as big fat tears rolled down her face. God, she was breaking his heart and driving him batty at all once.

  Glenna walked out of the room, motioning him to follow. “I’m no baby expert, not by a long shot, so let’s see if we can figure this out. You keep holding her and I’ll run an internet search. Somewhere on some forum there is an answer for this.” She opened the laptop and began typing.

  How had his parents survived this? Before the internet? Especially with so many kids, even a set of twins?

  The thought of Breanna blindsided him.

  He swallowed hard and yanked his thoughts back to the present. To this baby. This moment. And how he could get this kid calmed down and go outside to deal with the memory of losing his younger sister, Naomi’s twin. “Have you found anything out on that internet search of yours? Because if you’ve run out of ideas, I’ll look around for a while.”

  Glenna waved a hand at him dismissively as she scanned, a harried expression spreading across her face. Somehow...somehow this worried, harried look suited her. Glenna’s dedication to this child, even in this moment of uncertainty, made her all the more alluring. She glanced up at him, exhaustion mixing with fire. “I’m still looking...”

  “Look harder. Maybe we can take her on a plane ride in lieu of a car ride.” He knew his parents had used the car to put Breanna asleep. They joked that even as an infant, she’d needed to travel, to move. He shoved the painful thought back down, needing to focus on the present. On Fleur. On being there for his possible daughter.

  “I’m not comfortable with an impromptu plane ride in the middle of the night with no flight plan.”


  Damn. That made sense. His unease grew as Fleur’s crying continued, becoming even more urgent. For the first time in his life, Broderick felt the tug of failure, felt he wasn’t enough for the task at hand. “Fair enough. Maybe you could walk her and I’ll look on the internet.”

  “What else do you expect to find? We’ve covered all the steps in Baby Care 101.”

  “I have friends I can ask.” There were a few people at the office dancing in his mind’s eye. Surely one of them would know what to do.

  “Are you planning to tell them what’s going on in your life? Because I’m not sure that’s wise.”

  “I can be subtle,” he protested, heat flooding his cheeks.

  She burst out laughing, launching a fresh wail from the baby.

  Broderick winced, not sure when he could recall feeling this helpless. “Shh, shh, shh, Fleur. I’m here. I would sing, but my voice would hurt your ears.”

  Glenna leaned back in her chair, her eyes softening. “You really are doing everything right. Just keep walking and let her know you’re there. When you’re tired, I’ll have a turn. We’ll keep walking until she falls asleep. Maybe it doesn’t sound like much of a plan, but from everything I’ve read, it’s a timeless one.”

  “Timeless plan it is. I guess there is nothing left to do.” He paced around the room, slowly and gently rocking Fleur.

  “If someone had told me a year ago I’d be in a cabin with you and a baby, I would have called them a lunatic. And yet here we are.” She folded her arms across her chest, her expression surprisingly light and inviting.

  “Yes, this was never a scenario that entered my mind, either.” He walked toward the window, drawn to the blanket of stars.

  “Funny how things work.”

  He chuckled wryly. “Truth.”

  Silence hung between them for a moment.

  Actual silence. The baby had stopped crying.

  In a softer voice, one barely above a whisper, he asked, “What do we do now?”

  She pointed at the crib. “All the blogs say you should lay the baby down while she’s drowsy. Let’s do that. I’ll be right there with you for moral support.”