Her head came up, and she focused on his face. For the first time, Zach realized how young she was. Too young for bars, barely old enough for high school. Her dark hair and eyes reminded him of Carol, and his stomach started to chum.
“He’s gone?” she whispered.
“Yeah. You’re safe. Can you stand up?”
The girl sighed. “I think so.” When he helped her to her feet, Zach got another blow beneath the belt. She was pregnant. Not much, but enough for him to be sure.
He moved her away from the garbage as the ambulance stopped beside them. In seconds the EMTs had her on a stretcher, where they could treat the split lip, the swelling along her jaw and above her eyes.
Once they had her stabilized, Zach stepped close. “Who hit you?” he asked quietly.
The girl only stared at him, her swollen lips pressed together.
“Do you know the person who did this?” She closed her eyes. “Please. We need his name so we can punish him for hurting you.”
But she shook her head, and kept her eyes closed. Zach got a signal from the EMTs, who were ready to move, and he backed away. The ambulance pulled out in a flare of red and white light, leaving him standing in the street feeling sick.
“You see anybody?” Rafe Delgado, a cop who often shared shifts with Zach, came up beside him.
“Yeah, I saw the bastard. Six feet tall, dark hair in a ponytail. T-shirt and jeans, silver-toed boots. Urban cowboy type.”
Rafe wrote the description down. “The boots should help. Her cooperation would be even better.”
“Maybe her family will know.” He wiped his face with a shaking hand.
“Maybe.” Rafe clapped him on the shoulder. “We’ll finish up here. If you see the guy again call me.”
“If he’s still alive.”
His friend laughed. “If he’s still alive.”
Zach got back into his car, but the memory of that girl’s battered face kept him motionless. Pregnant, no wedding ring, hanging out with a guy who beat her up when she made him mad. What kind of life was that? How did she get herself into such a lousy situation?
And what could he do to keep Carol from taking the same path?
CHAPTER FIVE
THE MIDDLE OF JULY arrived at last. Allyson was due any minute to spend the last six weeks of the summer with her mother.
Shelley had worked out the perfect plan for their talk. She wasn’t showing much yet, but she didn’t want to wait until her daughter noticed something. After Allyson had spent the afternoon in the pool, after they’d had a good dinner, they would sit down together and Shelley would explain the facts of life as they now stood.
In the meantime, she paced the house, straightening, dusting, rearranging knickknacks. She stood at the big front window for long minutes, as if staring at the street outside could make Dex’s car, with Allyson inside, appear. Her stomach tightened like a screw and she tried to eat, but only felt worse. She changed clothes twice, hoping to look as slim as possible.
When the doorbell finally rang, she ran down the staircase, heart in her throat, to fling open the door. “Allyson? Baby, how are you?”
She bent down, and a pair of strong, slender arms circled her neck tight. Sweet-smelling black curls tickled her cheek and ear as Allyson’s head burrowed into her shoulder. “Hi, Mommy! I’m here!”
“You are.” Shelley hugged tighter. “Oh, you feel so good.”
“You smell good, Mommy. Like always.”
“Thanks, baby. Here, let me see you.”
She let Allyson step back a bit. Short hair, shiny black like her dad’s, and his direct gray gaze. Freckles on her nose—she’d been in the sun. A sturdy body, taller than Shelley remembered. “You keep growing!”
“Two inches this year,” Allyson announced proudly. “I had to let my stirrups down.”
“Wow.” For the first time, Shelley became aware of the man and woman standing in the doorway. Her face heated as she straightened up. “Hello, Dexter. Claire. Sorry—I didn’t see you for a minute. Come in.”
“That’s fine, Shelley. How are you?” Attorney Claire Cavanaugh Hightower stepped inside. She looked poised and graceful… and more pregnant than Shelley. But still elegant, with her glossy golden hair and dancer’s poise. Her simple, expensive clothes made everyone else look over dressed.
“Just great, now that Allyson’s here.” Shelley ruffled her daughter’s curls. “Would you like something to drink?”
Claire smiled and shook her head. “Thanks, but we both have meetings downtown. We’ll just leave Allyson to get settled.”
Dex had stayed on the threshold. “Allyson, come and help me get your gear out of the car.”
“Yessir. Wait’ll you see my new bathing suit, Mommy. It’s really neato.” She ran out and her father followed, leaving Shelley alone with the perfect woman.
“Why don’t we sit down?” Shelley motioned Claire into the living room, where they both perched on the edge of white velvet armchairs. “Congratulations on your baby.”
“Thank you.” I have to admit I’m thrilled and scared to death, all at the same time.”
“Scared?” The one who could do anything was scared?
“I haven’t spent much time with babies. I’m not completely sure how to start.”
Shelley shrugged. “Feed them, change them, hold them. Then as they grow, you just sort of figure out what to do next. Of course, I’m no expert.”
“Allyson’s a pretty special person. You’ve done a wonderful job.” Claire’s smile was friendly, her sleepy eyes kind.
Barely breathing, Shelley gazed at the woman across the room. This was as close to a truce as they’d ever come. She didn’t know if she had the courage to accept the peace Claire offered.
“Dexter has a lot to do with who Allyson is,” Shelley admitted. “He’s a good dad.”
“I’m counting on that.” Claire turned her head as Dex and Allyson came back in the house. “Do you have everything?”
Allyson dumped her two suitcases and a gym bag on the floor. “Everything. Oh—except for the books in the back seat.” She rushed out again.
“I’ll get her to take these upstairs,” Dex said.
Shelley followed Claire back into the entry hall. “Don’t worry about it. We have all day.” She got a sharp look from her ex-husband—no doubt he remembered the days when she’d been a fanatic about the house staying tidy.
Well, things changed.
Allyson came back inside with her armload of books. “I have to read all of these this summer, Mommy.”
“We’d better get started, then.”
Allyson’s goodbyes to Dex and Claire lasted quite a while. “Take care of Stormy for me, Daddy.”
“I will, Punkin’.” He knelt to give her a hug.
She drew back. “And Britches and the kittens.”
“Count on it.”
“And tell Dr. Jeff I’ll be back to see him before school starts, and he should tell Emily I’ll play with her then.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Have a good time, sweetheart.” Claire bent to deliver her own kiss, and Shelley watched with only a twinge of jealousy. They all loved their little girl—that’s what mattered, right?
Allyson hugged her hard. “Mommy and I always have a good time. Are you gonna see Uncle Zach while you’re here?”
“I think so.”
“Tell him I said hi and he should come see me.”
Dex glanced at Shelley. “Maybe you should check with your mom before you hand out invitations, Punkin’.”
“Mommy always lets me have friends over. And she likes Uncle Zach. Don’t you, Mommy?”
Shelley cleared her throat. “Of course. But he might be busy. We’ll have to see how things go.”
Finally, Dex and Claire left, waving from the windows of his Mercedes as they drove slowly down the street.
With a sigh, Allyson turned inside. Shelley shut the door. “Sad already? Do you want to go back to Wyoming?”
“I know.” She put her arms around her tall eight-year-old. “I wish we could have done that for you. But your dad is happy with Claire.”
“Yep.” Allyson put her head on Shelley’s breast for a sweet moment. “Don’t you need somebody, too, Mommy?”
“I’ve got you,” Shelley said. “And…” she took a deep breath. Her careful plan flew out the window “…we need to have a talk.”
In the kitchen, Shelley poured a glass of milk for Allyson and one for herself, then got down the box of bakery cookies she’d bought.
“You like milk, Mommy?”
“Sometimes.” She sat beside her daughter at the counter.
“I like chocolate milk.”
“I remember.” Here goes. “Allyson, I know you’re excited about Claire’s baby.”
“Uh-huh.” She nodded, her mouth full of oatmeal-raisin crumbles.
“Well, I need to tell you that I’m going to have a baby, too.”
Allyson swallowed. “Cool!” Then her face changed. “But Mommy—you’re not married.”
“No, I’m not.”
“How can you have a baby if you’re not married?”
Shelley dragged in another deep breath. “We’ve talked about how babies are made, right?” Allyson nodded. “Well, sometimes a man and a woman get…close enough…to make a baby without being married.”
“Does that mean the baby won’t have a daddy?”
“Not—not right now. People don’t always stay together after they’ve made a baby. So…I’m going to be a mom by myself.”
Allyson’s eyes narrowed as she concentrated—a look Shelley had often seen on Dex’s face. “That sounds like a hard thing to do.”
“Well, I have you to help me, right? I know you’re going to be a wonderful big sister.”
“I won’t be here all the time. Maybe Greta could come back?”
Greta was the last au pair Shelley hired before Allyson went to live with her father. “No, I’m going to stay home with this baby. At least for a while.”
Allyson thought some more. “I still think there should be a daddy.”
“There should be. And—and maybe there will be, someday. Just not now. Can you accept that?”
“Okay. Just tell me when you need help.”
Shelley hugged her daughter again. “Count on it, baby. I love you.”
“Love you, too, Mom. Can I go for a swim?”
That hadn’t gone so badly, after all. “Let’s see who gets her suit on first!”
WHEN THE PHONE RANG on a Friday night in late July, Zach thought twice about answering. He was quite happy in his solitude. Really.
On the other hand…
He caught the phone just before the answering machine picked up. “Harmon.”
“Uncle Zach? It’s me—Allyson.”
“Hey, Ally Cat! How’s my favorite person in the world?”
“I’m great. You know where I am?”
He settled back in his chair to play the game. “Uh…Timbuktu?”
“Nope.”
“Iceland?”
Allyson giggled. “Nope.”
“A little place in Wyoming called Flying Rock?”
“I’m right here!”
“Where? I don’t see you.”
“Not there, silly. At Mommy’s house.”
“That’s right—Clarie told me.” Before he thought about it, he said, “How’s your mom?” And then winced.
“She’s good.” Allyson didn’t notice undercurrents. “Can you come over?”
Zach sat up straight again. “Did your mom say I could?”
“Yep. When can you come?”
“Well…” Had Shelley agreed to this? Did she want to see him?
“Please?”
“Sure, Ally Cat. I’ll be there. Can I talk to your mom a minute?”
“She had to work tonight. My grandinom’s baby-sitting. Mom will be here tomorrow, though.”
“I’ll see her then. Thanks, Allyson.”
“Okay, Uncle Zach.”
He hung up the phone more enthusiastic than he’d been about anything besides baseball this summer. Allyson had been his friend since the first time they met, and he’d visited her—and Claire, of course—in Wyoming several times.
The Falcons won their game Saturday morning—a good omen, he decided. Maybe he would take Shelley and Allyson out for an early dinner. Nowhere fancy, just a fun place where the talk would be casual and easy. Shelley didn’t want any pressure. Fine.
But Zach wanted another chance.
THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON, the Hightower house looked friendlier than usual, with the garage door open and a girl’s skates and helmet lying in the driveway. Shelley’s white Mercedes sat inside the garage—an encouraging sight. She could have run away. Maybe this effort would turn out even better than he’d hoped.
He rang the doorbell and waited with his hands in his pockets. From within, he heard the sound of running feet and then a voice. “No, Allyson, don’t open the door until I get there. I’ve told you—”
The blue door swung back. Allyson stood on the threshold, with her mother just behind her. Shelley pushed back her hair and looked up. At the sight of him, she started to smile—but then her face paled and her eyes widened with the proverbial seen-a-ghost stare.
“Uncle Zach!”
Zach cleared his throat. “Hi, Ally Cat. How are you, Shelley?”
She didn’t answer.
Allyson took his hand and tugged. “Come in, Uncle Zach! Come in!”
With a sinking feeling in his gut, Zach stepped inside. “Hey, Allyson, I thought your mom knew I was coming. She looks pretty surprised.”
“I—” Allyson ducked her curly black head. “I knew she’d be glad to see you, ’cause you’re my friend. She told me I could have a friend over, and I chose you!”
Simple reasoning, hard to deconstruct. He turned toward the woman who’d retreated to stand by the staircase. “I’m sorry. I did think—”
His thought evaporated. He noted Shelley’s hair, longer now than in June, a tumble of soft, white-gold curls. He noticed her tanned, shapely legs, with a drop of his heart remembering how the skin felt under his palms.
But the real news was between her head and her feet. Shelley was pregnant. Quite definitely expecting a baby.
Allyson was talking the way she always did, a mile a minute. Zach couldn’t understand her words through the buzzing in his ears. Instinctively, he dropped his gaze to Shelley’s left hand. She wore a ring on her third finger, a wide gold band.
There was a husband? Since June?
Another fact hit him. She’d been pregnant when he took her out to dinner that night. Maybe the reason she’d been hard to reach was right in front of his eyes. A wedding. And a baby.
Allyson pulled at his hand again. “Have you seen our pool, Uncle Zach? I can swim all the way from one end to the other. Want me to show you?”
“What’s that?” He shook his head to clear it. “Sure. I’d like to see you swim.”
“Your bathing suit is upstairs, Allyson.” Shelley’s voice sounded as if her throat had closed.
“Be right back!” Allyson took the stairs two at a time and disappeared at the top into a doorway on the right. The song she hummed floated down to the marble-floored entrance hall.
When Shelley walked toward the back of the house, Zach followed. She finally came to a stop at a window on the farthest wall of the family room from where he stood. He took two more steps forward, then halted. “Congratulations.” His voice didn’t sound any better than hers.
“Thanks.” She glanced out the window—looking for an escape route?
Zach knew he only had a few minutes before Allyson came back. Somehow he had to understand this situation, with his brain as scrambled as eggs in a frying pan.
And he had no right even to ask the questions punching at him.<
br />
Were you seeing somebody when we spent the weekend together? Was that just a run-through for the wedding night? Where is this guy, anyway, and what makes him different from the other losers you picked? What about me?
He stared at the woman across the room. After watching his mother with four babies of her own that he could remember, he gauged that Shelley was about five months along.
“Wait a minute.” His stomach went hollow as Zach started connecting with reality again. Five months, more or less—he’d bet an obstetrician’s yearly wages on the timing. Counting backward, that was July, June, May, April… March.
The baby would have been conceived in March. Which meant—
“Shelley.” His voice shook badly. She turned to face him.
He cleared his throat. “Look me in the eye and tell me that’s not my baby you’re carrying.”
SHELLEY WANTED to scream at him. What are you doing here? Why can’t you leave me alone?
But she gathered her breath and her thoughts, instead. The worst had happened, but if she could just persuade him…
“No, Zach. I’m sorry you were worried. This isn’t your baby.”
His eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe you. When are you due?”
“November.” She could be really small for six months.
He took one hand out of his pocket to run through his hair. “Can you fill me in, here? You’re married now?”
Damn. She’d forgotten to take the make-believe ring off after work last night. “Yes. At the beginning of the month.” She could only pray he wouldn’t ask Allyson to verify that statement.
“Kinda sudden, wasn’t it? I mean…you didn’t mention a fiancé in June.”
Here came the really hard part. “Actually, I’ve been seeing Mark for over a year. We’d broken up in February, when…” She couldn’t find words to describe that weekend. “I was pretty down on him. But he called and we…worked things out…and…got married July first.”
“I see.” His fist went back into his pocket. Just looking at him was torture—summer sun had bronzed his face and lightened his hair, and his eyes shone bright blue in contrast. A knit shirt the color of butter showed off the tan on his arms. Strong arms, Shelley remembered. Strong and tight around her when they danced. And when they made love…
Expecting the Best (Harlequin Superromance) Page 6
