“No, you’re not. I’ve never lost a patient.”
“You never…had one.”
He laughed, but it was forced.
She tensed suddenly. Her body seemed to explode. She gripped the sheets again.
“Grab your legs. Like this.” He helped her get hold of them. “Okay, pull against them as you push. Push hard. Harder. Let’s meet this kid once and for all.”
She pushed, despite the pain, despite her exhaustion, despite the indignity of having Devin Fitzgerald between her legs. Suddenly the pain stopped. She felt a relief so total that for a moment she thought she had died. Then she heard a baby’s weak cry.
“A boy,” Devin said. “Perfect, and breathing on his own already.”
She felt something warm against her abdomen. Her legs collapsed to the bed, and she looked down to see her son. “Oh, my God…”
“I’ve got to find something to tie off the cord and cut it with. Don’t move. He needs your warmth.”
She heard Devin rummaging around in the dresser, but she felt as if she were floating somewhere far away. Her baby was here. Her son.
“Okay. I’ve got what I need.”
“Is he really…all right?”
“Better than that.”
She watched Devin tie off the cord with something that looked like shoelaces, and snip it with what looked like embroidery scissors.
“We’re lucky all this stuff is here. My cousin didn’t take many of my aunt’s things from the house when she moved.”
“Your cousin?”
“I bought this house from her. This is the house where I grew up.”
She knew exactly where they were, then. The house had been pointed out to her once, before Devin had become the father of her child. She had avoided this road ever since.
Until tonight.
“Okay. I’m going to wrap him up. Then you can hold him. But we’re not quite finished with you yet.”
She knew she should feel completely humiliated. But all she could think about was the fact that her baby was about to be placed in her arms. Her son was crying. Little tired cries that were growing louder. She wanted to comfort him more than she had ever wanted anything in her life.
Devin nestled the baby in her arms. “If you’ve got the strength to raise yourself a little, I can tuck another pillow under you to prop you up.”
She managed nicely, although she was shaking all over. She cuddled her son as Devin took care of the final details, sliding clean sheets under her at last and covering her with a warm blanket.
“Are you going to nurse him?”
She looked up. Some part of her wanted to tell him it was none of his business, but she couldn’t. She had been angry at him for so long. Angry at him for getting her pregnant. Angry at him for ignoring her when she had tried to get in touch with him. But she couldn’t dredge up any anger now. Not with her newborn son in her arms; the son he had started on this journey and had just brought into the world.
“Just try and…stop me.”
He sat on the bed beside her. “You can start now, if you’d like. It’s good for you.”
“I’m so weak.”
“I’ll help.”
She started to refuse. But this was her son, and she wanted to comfort him.
Devin unbuttoned her blouse. She looked up at him as he did. His eyes were on her face. “I have the right to know, Robin.”
Robin knew what he meant. Devin believed he had the right to know if this was really his son. She had told him that he was the baby’s father, but she had also told him that he wasn’t. “Your manager’s name is Harry.” She felt his hand against her skin and the cloth of her blouse parting. “Harry Bagley.”
“He never told me. Not a word.”
“I suppose…he hoped I’d just go away.”
“And you did.”
“I didn’t…want anything from you. I…never have. I just thought—”
“I’d want to know?”
She nodded.
He circled her and the baby with his arms, finding the clasp of her bra underneath her and lifting her slightly so that he could undo it. Then he released her and lifted the bra so that she could bring the baby to her breast.
The baby, their baby, knew exactly what to do.
“Now, that’s a strong instinct,” Devin said, watching them.
She began to cry. She didn’t know why, exactly; couldn’t figure out which of a million reasons had suddenly hit her with enough impact to bring tears.
“Robin.” Devin stroked her hair back over her ears. “I’m so sorry I didn’t recognize you at first. I can’t believe this. Any of this.”
She cried harder.
He continued to stroke her hair. He forced a little laugh. “You’ve got to admit, you looked a little different last spring. Your hair was long. You were thinner.”
“Thank you.”
“For saying you were thinner?”
“For rescuing me. Us. For helping.”
His hand stilled. “I suppose you think I’m the kind of man who wouldn’t care enough to help you.”
“Exactly.”
“I didn’t know about the baby, Robin. Harry didn’t tell me. Harry’s about to be fired.”
“No. It’s over now. The baby’s here. You know…he’s yours. That’s all I ever wanted.”
“And what if that’s not enough for me?”
She looked up at him. The baby was still nursing contentedly. She found it hard to be firm with tears running down her cheeks, but she tried. “It will have to be.”
“No. This is my son, too. My child.”
“We don’t need you.”
“That’s not what this is about. He’s my child. I’m his father. That’s what it’s about.” He lifted the baby from her arms.
She sat forward, panicked. Then she realized he was only helping her switch the baby to her other breast. She clutched the baby hard when Devin settled him against her again—so hard that he gave a yelping cry of protest before he began to nurse. “You can’t have him!”
“Hey, calm down. I’m not going to take him away from you.”
“I can support him. I have a decent job here.”
“I know you do.”
She thought fast. Devin was obviously having an attack of conscience. If he wasn’t allowed to do something, the consequences might be disturbing. “Look, start a trust fund…or something.” She closed her eyes. “A college fund in case he wants to go somewhere…more expensive than I could manage.”
“Do you think this is about guilt? Do you think that will make me feel I’m off the hook?”
“You’re not on the hook. I’m releasing you. Swim away.”
Devin was silent. She watched her son nursing. Her son. But her emotions were so confusing that she couldn’t enjoy it in all the ways that she should have been able to.
“You told Harry I was the baby’s father?” he asked.
“I told you I did.”
“Then if you try to deny it, I have enough proof to demand a paternity test. Harry will testify.”
Her eyes narrowed, and she looked up at him. “Just a while ago you were accusing me…of demanding one.”
“Do you have any idea how many women each year claim that I’ve fathered their babies? Women I’ve never seen in my life?”
She stared at him.
“I know this is my son.” His voice caught. “I’m sorry I doubted you for even a moment. Will you forgive me?”
She didn’t nod or shake her head. Her gaze didn’t flicker.
“I want to be part of his life.”
“No.” She had to force herself not to tighten her arms around the baby.
“Yes. He’s mine. But I’m not going to take him away from you. I promise that. Just let me visit. Let me be part of his life. Let me watch him grow up. He’ll need me, Robin. If you love him, you must know that.”
She was trapped, as surely as if she had married this man in a crowded cathedral. They were
irrevocably bound together because of the baby nursing at her breast; a son who would need his father.
“You’re a stranger.” Tears filled her eyes. “It was a one-night stand.”
He didn’t protest. “We needed each other that night. And now, whether you know it or not, we need each other again. You need my help and support, and I need your cooperation.” He touched the baby’s head, stroking it as he had stroked her hair. “And he needs us both.”
She couldn’t respond. The words caught in her throat.
“Do you have a name for him?”
She shook her head.
“He’s a North Pole baby. Shall we call him Nicholas? Nicholas Fitzgerald?”
She looked away. She couldn’t tell Devin that before the birth she had nearly settled on the name Nicholas for a boy, and that she had only waited until he was in her arms to make the final decision.
It seemed like a sign. She closed her eyes. She could not banish Devin from their lives, despite her urgent need to do so.
He was a stranger, but Devin Fitzgerald was Nicholas’s father.
CHAPTER FOUR
Devin lifted Nicholas high and watched his son break into an ear-to-ear grin. “Mommy’s coming back soon,” he promised. “She’s always right on time.”
Nicholas chortled and drooled simultaneously. At six months he still had his mother’s dark hair, but he also had his father’s pale blue eyes. His face was shaped like Devin’s, too. If Devin had harbored any doubts that this baby was his, they had dissolved the first time he’d gotten to examine Nicholas thoroughly. Devin still had some of his own baby pictures. This child belonged to him.
He lowered Nicholas to his lap, and the baby’s chin began to wobble. “You miss your mommy, don’t you, Nick? You don’t like being away from her for so long. Even if you’re with me.”
Devin rose and shoved Nicholas under his arm like a football. Nick squealed with delight. Devin began a slow whirl. “And it’s a rush to the ten-yard line. Steve Young passes the ball and its a—”
“Touchdown?” Robin slammed the door behind her. Her arms were filled with groceries. “More boy stuff, huh?” She smiled, but, as always, her eyes were wary.
Devin stopped whirling. “I’m glad you’re back. He was starting to miss you.”
“Let me put these away, then I’ll take him.” She kissed the top of Nicholas’s head as she passed by, but she was careful not to touch Devin.
Devin followed her into the kitchen, Nicholas still tucked securely under his arm. “I think he’s hungry.”
“Did you give him his cereal?”
“What little he’d take. He’ll want more after you’ve nursed him.”
“I left you a bottle.”
“He doesn’t want a bottle. He wants his mommy.”
“Everybody and their great-aunt Tillie has told me I should wean him.”
“Are you going to?”
“Nope.” Robin set the grocery bags on the kitchen table. “Not until he wants me to.”
“I’m glad.”
She looked up at him as if to say that was nice but she didn’t really care. He held her gaze, and she smiled at last. “Well, we’re in agreement,” she said. “That’s good, I guess. One decision of about a million we’ll have to agree on in the years to come.”
“Robin, I’ve told you before. I’m not in this to control you. I just want to be part of his life.”
She didn’t answer. Instead she looked away. “Did he get a good nap?”
“No.”
“Really? He always sleeps a couple of hours in the afternoon.”
“I hovered over him hoping he’d wake up, and he did after half an hour. He’s got me figured out by now.”
She rummaged through the bags for a half gallon of ice cream and two boxes of frozen vegetables and slipped them in the freezer.
It was Devin’s freezer. Two weeks after Nicholas’s birth, Devin had convinced Robin to move into his childhood home. He didn’t live here with her, of course. When he was in town visiting Nicholas, Devin stayed nearby at a small bed-and-breakfast with discreet owners who had agreed to keep his presence in the area a secret.
He had wanted to give Robin the house free and clear, but she had refused to accept it. She had refused child support, as well, but he had finally persuaded her that living in his house made sense. She wouldn’t have to pay rent for her town house, and she would have more privacy. They would have more privacy when he visited, which he did twice a month.
So far they had kept Devin’s paternity a secret. Nicholas’s birth certificate claimed that someone named “William Fitzgerald” was the baby’s father. Since William was actually Devin’s first name and Devin his middle name, the certificate didn’t lie. There were a host of Fitzgeralds in the area. And since Devin had bought the house under the name “William Fitzgerald,” no one seemed to have made the connection to the most famous Fitzgerald of all.
But both Devin and Robin knew it was just a matter of time until the truth was made public. Someone would see Devin at the airport and trace him to the house in Farnham Falls. Someone would see him in town despite the fact that he came and went under cover of darkness. But Robin and Devin were hoping to keep their secret for as long as possible.
“You must be tired and more than ready to go. I’ll take him now.” Robin held out her arms.
Devin reluctantly gave her their son. Nicholas wasn’t reluctant at all. He began to swat at Robin’s breasts with his fists and whimper.
“Just like a man,” Devin said.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’d better nurse him now. Can you let yourself out?”
“You know, I wanted to get some pictures of him, and I just plain forgot. You don’t mind if I stay until after he’s finished?”
She looked up at him. “You were here all afternoon, Devin.”
“I was busy. He’s a handful.”
Devin watched Midwestern manners war with a mother’s fears. “I could make dinner while you nurse him,” he offered.
“You cook?”
“I’m not completely irrelevant.”
“I really think you should go.”
“I’d really like to stay.”
She closed her eyes. He knew how tired she was. She had managed to work out a way to keep her job and still do a lot of it at home so that she could be with Nicholas at the same time. But the arrangement had taken its toll. She used the days when Devin was visiting Nick to catch up on all her errands. She never seemed to rest.
“Let me cook dinner,” he said. “Please?”
“What else do you want?”
“I’ve always liked the way you come straight to the point.”
“I don’t like the way you’re scurrying around it.”
“I want some more time with my son.” That was part of the truth, of course, but not all of it. “I don’t think that’s too much to ask, do you? I’d like to put him to bed tonight.”
“I don’t know if I have anything in the fridge that you’d know how to make.”
“I brought steaks with me, a salad and a bottle of red wine. I can broil. And I can microwave a couple of potatoes.”
She opened her eyes. “You planned this?”
“I hoped you’d let me. I still do.”
“I don’t know if this is such a good idea. We’ve got things worked out between us now, more or less. I don’t like the idea of making changes.”
“We’re talking about one night, Robin.”
She sighed. “All right. I guess it would be nice if you had a chance to tuck Nick in.”
He smiled. He supposed, if he was a completely honest man, he would push on and tell her that he would like a chance to tuck her in, too. Right after he’d made excruciatingly sweet love to her. But that was going to have to wait.
He turned away before she could see any trace of that thought in his eyes. “I’ll put the rest of the groceries away, then I’ll start on dinner. Nick’s patie
nce is about all used up.”
“Thanks.”
He listened to Robin’s retreat. He could see it in his mind. The sway of her hips as she walked, the way she pillowed Nick against her soft, soft breasts, the way delicate wisps of hair tickled the back of her neck.
In the past six months, as he had slowly positioned himself in her life, he had memorized every little detail about Robin Lansing.
* * *
“You are an insatiable little boy who is always going to get everything he wants, aren’t you?” Robin cooed the words as Nicholas nursed contentedly, one hand spread wide against her breast as if to hold her in place.
She rocked him as he nursed. On one of his visits Devin had told her that this rocking chair had rocked generations of Fitzgerald children. She didn’t know exactly how that made her feel. She didn’t want to be part of the Fitzgerald legacy, but she understood the benefit for Nicholas. She hoped she wouldn’t pass on her worst fears to her son—fears that Devin would someday grow tired of this arrangement and sue for custody. Or the opposite; fears that Devin would someday grow tired of this arrangement and abandon the son who had grown to love him.
Devin had given her no reason to be afraid. He had promised repeatedly that he would never take Nicholas from her, and he certainly had shown no signs of tiring of his son. Yet she had experienced so much loss in her life already that she was terrified of losing more. And Nicholas was everything to her now.
Almost everything.
She glanced toward the kitchen. She couldn’t see much from this angle, but occasionally she caught a glimpse of Devin striding back and forth. He was large enough to take up a sizable portion of the kitchen, and his long steps took him quickly from one end to the other. In the smallest of rooms he moved with electric energy, just as he did on a concert stage.
She remembered that energy in the most intimate of ways. He made love the way he did everything in his life; with restless intensity and complete concentration.
She remembered.
She shook her head and switched Nicholas to the other breast, trying to put the thought of Devin as a lover out of her mind. He was not here as a lover, but as the father of her son. And despite the arrangement they had worked out one tension-filled step at a time, she was increasingly uneasy.
The Surprise of a Lifetime Page 4
