She’d always known he had a deep capacity to care about others, which was part of what made him such a good protector. That didn’t mean his attitude toward the baby had changed.
Still, she couldn’t avoid feeling a glimmer of hope. It lasted for a few more steps…until a second contraction turned her belly hard as a rock.
“Uh-oh,” she said.
This time, she didn’t quibble when Jack hurried her inside.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jack paced through the living room, trying to make sense of Casey’s one-sided conversation on the phone. From what he gathered, the nurse seemed remarkably calm about the whole thing. Far from reassuring him, her reaction made him wonder if his wife was receiving the best possible care.
During his mother’s long battle with cancer when he was eleven, his helplessness had frightened and angered him. Now he wanted to take action.
His restless strides carried him into the kitchen. Shouldn’t he boil water or something? He vaguely recalled that people did that in old movies, although he’d never figured out what they did with the water once they heated it.
Pregnancies could go dangerously wrong. Why didn’t Gail insist she check into the hospital until her condition stabilized?
“Well?” he demanded as soon as Casey hung up.
“She said to call her back if I have any more contractions. Two in a row might mean something or it might not.”
“That’s it?” Jack couldn’t believe this cavalier approach. “Shouldn’t they run some tests?”
“She could examine me to see if I’m dilated, but if I’m really in labor, it’s going to become obvious within the next hour. Besides, I have a regular checkup scheduled tomorrow with the doctor.” Casey took Enid’s cupcakes out of the bag and set them on a plate. “Since my waters haven’t broken and I’m not in pain, she thinks there’s no cause for alarm.”
“That’s all?”
“I mentioned that Enid volunteered to coach me, but she didn’t recommend it unless she gets a chance to prepare.” Casey ran water into a kettle. “If she doesn’t know what to do, she could be more hindrance than help.”
“You’re not telling me everything, are you?” Jack said.
“About what?”
He indicated the kettle. “You’re boiling water.”
“So?”
“That’s what women do when they’re giving birth.” He folded his arms decisively.
“I’m making herbal tea.” She looked as if she were fighting a smile. “Would you like a cup?”
Okay, so he’d overreacted. Still, someone had to watch over Casey. She’d admitted this might be labor, in which case perhaps she shouldn’t be eating or drinking. “Did Gail recommend drinking tea?”
“She did,” Casey conceded. “Along with a relaxing bath.” Mischievously, she added, “Care to join me?”
“I doubt we’d both fit in the tub.” All the same, a scene from the early days of their marriage flashed into Jack’s mind. They’d celebrated moving into their new rental home by taking a sensuous shower together, starting with champagne and ending with memorable lovemaking on a fluffy rug.
His body ached to repeat the experience. As if his wife could even consider making love this close to childbirth!
Casey waved one hand for his attention. “The expressions on your face! Jack, I was kidding.”
“I know that.” And yet… “You said you missed me,” he reminded her. “Don’t you ever miss me that way, too? That is, leaving aside the physical impossibility right now.”
A blush brightened her cheeks. “Sure, I miss you that way. Jack, I never said I didn’t love you. I said I couldn’t go on living the way we were. I wanted you and this baby. Why can’t I have both?”
He let the question hang in the air, almost afraid to answer. “Because you hate the way I live,” he ventured at last.
“You could move here,” Casey suggested.
He didn’t belong in Richfield Crossing. And what would he do for a living, drive a tractor and pitch hay for the cows? “Do you realize how hard I’ve worked building up this business? It means a lot to me.”
“You have so many talents, you could fit in anywhere!”
“If you wanted a local boy, you should have married Royce.” He regretted the remark as soon as he saw her lower lip tremble. “I didn’t mean that.”
Turning away, Casey poured hot water over her tea bag. With her back to him, she said, “Sorry I brought it up.”
He knew he should back off now, but he couldn’t bear it. “I’m just sorry you care more about this place than about your husband.”
“And the baby?” she asked. “Where would she fit into this picture?”
He couldn’t answer that. “It seems like no matter what picture we paint, one of us doesn’t have a place in it.”
“I’m afraid I have to agree with you.”
Leaving her to enjoy her tea in privacy, Jack went through the living room into the office, where he’d set up his laptop. The best way he knew to settle his thoughts was to work.
Flipping open his pad, he busied himself typing in notes, adding a few observations as he went. All the while, he searched for a pattern that might point to a suspect.
First, he summarized the facts. During the past month, several tenants had seen or heard a prowler. The only person attacked had been Casey, apparently to stop her from taking a photo. There’d also been vandalism against his car, indicating that the perpetrator might have known who he was.
In addition, Casey had mentioned earlier damage to the mailbox. Although she’d said it appeared to be accidental, the perp had tried to make the attack on Jack’s car look like an accident, too.
None of it fit a clear model. If someone held a grudge, who was the target and where did the motive lie? Jack turned to his list of names.
Al Rawlins appeared to blame Casey for his daughter’s problems, and he’d been spotted on the property. Also, although Larry Malloy’s grudge against Enid Purdue dated to high school, the rookie cop’s involvement in investigating was suggestive. Just as arsonists loved to watch their fires burn, criminals often gloried in the attention given to their misdeeds.
Jack hadn’t forgotten about Mimi’s parents, the Godwins, who’d once wanted to buy the property. In addition, Casey’s ex-boyfriend naturally fell under suspicion. Most attacks on women came from men they’d been close to.
That brought him to Gail’s ex-husband. Unlike the others, he might be ruled out or brought to the fore by information available on the Internet. Jack typed in the address of a data service to which his company subscribed.
Within half an hour, after widening his search to include other Web sites, he’d discovered several significant facts about Dean Fordham. He’d maintained a spotless credit report for the past three years, although prior to that he’d had his ups and downs. Also, according to a group that built housing for the homeless, he’d received a volunteer award nine months earlier for installing free plumbing.
Most significantly, a personal Web site contained photos of his recent wedding, along with shots of the couple’s new home in Hawaii. The two had moved there to be near his wife’s grown children.
That didn’t sound like a man obsessed with his ex-wife or keen on flying to Tennessee to conduct petty harassment. Jack downloaded a photo of Dean to show around in case anyone recognized him, but he put a question mark next to the name in his file.
Despite Gail’s suspicions, they could probably rule out her ex-husband. That didn’t bring Jack any closer to figuring out who was behind the attacks.
Tomorrow, he’d conduct more interviews. In the meantime, he hoped the prowler didn’t plan further mischief that might put Casey or anyone else at risk.
* * *
WHETHER IT WAS the effect of the hot tea and warm bath or simply nature taking its time, the muscle spasms disappeared. Casey half wished they’d return so Jack could be here to welcome Diane into the world. Still, given his obvious discomfort
at discussions of childbirth, he wasn’t likely to relish being present amid all that mess.
What a contrary man he was! Inhaling the rose scent of her soap, she luxuriated in the tub and let her thoughts wander back to the concern in Jack’s green eyes as she reported what Gail had advised.
What a fuss he’d made about her boiling water! His comment had been so cute that she might almost have convinced herself he wanted to be a daddy. But when she’d mentioned taking Diane back to L.A., he’d clammed up as always.
No, not quite as always. Resting one hand on the bulge, Casey acknowledged that Jack had been more open about his feelings today than she’d ever seen him. He’d tried, at least a little, to reach out to her.
Not far enough, though. It seemed as if they stood on opposite sides of a bridge that he refused to cross. The fact that the bridge would transport him to a world they could share wasn’t enough to make him leave his familiar surroundings.
Her heart squeezed. Strolling and talking together reminded her of the early days of their relationship when they’d delighted in each other’s company. She kept wanting to nestle into Jack and find a way to make a home together.
Quit torturing yourself. It isn’t going to work. Deal with it.
Heat suffused Casey. She realized her temperature must be rising from the bath and from her pregnancy-fueled internal furnace. Letting herself overheat wasn’t good for the baby.
Struggling into a straighter position, she gripped the edge of the tub and tried to rise. Push as she might, however, she couldn’t lever herself up without risking a fall. It felt as if she’d gained five hundred pounds.
Only one possibility came to mind, embarrassing as it might be. She had to call Jack in to help.
For modesty’s sake, Casey tried to reach the towel rack, but that didn’t work either. She’d underestimated her weight gain at five hundred pounds, she reflected ruefully. A ton would be more accurate.
Oh, well, she wasn’t baring anything her husband hadn’t seen plenty of times.
“Jack!” Receiving no answer, she called his name louder and added, “I need your help!”
Footsteps shook the house and he flung open the door. “Are you bleeding? What happened?”
The near panic on his face sent guilt flooding through Casey. Blushing, she said, “I can’t get up. I’m afraid I’ll slip.”
He frowned. “No more contractions?”
She shook her head. “Just clumsiness. I’m sorry if I worried you.”
“I’m glad it’s nothing more serious.” In his relief, he finally took a good look at her and blinked, visibly startled at the sight of her enlarged and uncovered body.
It was the first time anyone except her nurse or the doctor had seen her pregnancy in all its glory. In a way, Casey had been glad that nobody else had to see her whalelike proportions.
She didn’t consider herself ugly, exactly, yet now she became acutely aware not only of her enlarged tummy but of other changes, from her darkened nipples to her thunder thighs. It certainly wasn’t the stuff of fashion magazines.
Jack continued staring as he reached for a towel. Casey sighed. “I know I look funny.”
“You look amazing.” He drew the oversize terry cloth from the rack. Kneeling beside the tub, Jack brushed a damp strand from her temple. “You remind me of a fertility symbol.”
Casey’s nipples tightened beneath his gaze and an ache bloomed lower down. He’d asked if she missed him that way. The answer was an emphatic yes, now more than ever.
In the misty air, his sweater clung to his torso. She wished Jack were naked too.
It seemed only natural when he leaned over the tub and kissed her. Casey’s tongue met his and her hand came up, damply, to caress his shoulder.
The way his mouth played over hers stirred a longing she hadn’t experienced in eight lonely months, to feel his bare skin brushing hers and his hard masculine body merging into her soft, feminine one. If only they could share another wonderful night like the one when they’d created their baby.
Breathing hard, Jack lifted his head. “We have to stop. You’re in too vulnerable a condition.”
“We could work around it.”
He choked back a laugh. “Casey, you’re outrageous!”
Her gaze trailed down to the telltale distension in his jeans. The evidence of his arousal inspired her to make this strong man yield completely.
“Let me stroke you all over and drive you wild,” she said.
“You’ve always been brash.” His breath came faster, she noticed. “But we can’t.”
“Let me try.” She unsnapped the front of his jeans and cupped him with her hand. Jack groaned. “I love it when you get big and hard.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this.” His lips moved across hers again.
Casey took that as encouragement. She’d never tried to bring her husband to climax this way before, but it thrilled her to see his eyelids lower and feel his pelvis shift in an instinctive rhythm.
His excitement told her how desirable he found her. And it brought them close in a way neither of them could express with words.
Enjoying every moment, Casey fondled him. When his hands claimed her breasts, intense pleasure nearly overwhelmed her. Although she had to assume an awkward position on her knees and at an angle in order to reach him, the indulgence of her long-suppressed sensuality more than made up for it.
The pressure of Jack’s hardness against her palm encouraged her to rub him in a spiraling cadence. She could tell he was trying to control his excitement, and prolong the ardor, yet his body defied him. She reveled in the arching of his back and the waves of release until at last he brought the towel into play.
Leaning against the tub with his head close to hers, he murmured, “That was incredible. It’s been a long time.”
She hadn’t considered the possibility that he might have taken other lovers since their separation. It was gratifying to realize that, apparently, he hadn’t, and that her pregnancy hadn’t diminished his response to her. “We’ve never been able to resist each other, have we?”
“That’s for sure,” he said ruefully.
“Good.” Casey didn’t want to lose the special exhilaration they awakened in each other, even if they couldn’t live together any more. She doubted she’d ever feel so close to another man.
“It’s your turn.” Tossing the towel aside, Jack reached for a fresh one. “First, let’s get you dry.”
She let him help her out, but drew back when he tried to stroke her. “It could bring on contractions.”
“Would that be so terrible at this stage?” Jack asked.
“I suppose not,” Casey admitted.
He draped her with the towel but left the front open, studying at leisure. “Someone ought to sculpt you like this.”
“I doubt they could find a big enough piece of marble,” she shot back.
He chuckled. “If I mention your alabaster skin, will you slap me?”
What a delicious man, Casey thought, and wished he could still be hers. Well, for the moment he was, and she intended to enjoy herself. “I’ve always thought actions speak louder than words.”
“Then let’s go.” He guided her toward the bedroom.
From the front of the house, the doorbell sounded. “Ignore that,” she said.
Jack hesitated. “You don’t think it could be important?”
That was the problem with being a landlady. You never knew when someone might need you. “I suppose so. Okay. Would you mind answering it?” She adjusted the towel. However, it still failed to cover her completely.
“I certainly don’t expect you to, not in that condition.” After one more appreciative glance, he buckled his belt and went out.
In the bedroom, Casey pulled on a loose top and stretch jeans, and brushed out the hair she’d piled atop her head. From the front, she heard a familiar female voice that brought her sharply to attention.
“I can come back later,” Sandra was s
aying. “I know I should have called. I went out for a drive and dropped in on impulse.”
So much for her and Jack’s intentions, Casey mused. But she wanted very much to reestablish a good relationship with her old friend.
She hurried out. “You’re not going anywhere! Don’t even think about leaving!”
A shaky smile greeted her. “Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.” She debated whether to give Sandra a hug, but the moment passed. “What can I get you to drink?”
Jack, to his credit, chimed in, “I was about to make coffee. How about it?”
“I’d love some,” Sandra said. “It’s getting cold out. I hear it might rain.”
They went into the kitchen, which stirred happy memories. Although Casey’s parents hadn’t bought this place until she was in community college, Sandra had occasionally come for dinner. Other times, she and Casey had baked fudge or cookies and shared confidences across this table.
The woman who edged onto her chair now bore little resemblance to the cheerful, healthy young woman from years ago. Without the sunglasses and scarf she’d worn at church, Casey got a daunting view of hollowed eyes, overbleached hair and a scarred cheekbone.
“I’m sorry about the things I said this morning.” Her voice, while still recognizable, had become raspier. She’d also lost most of her Tennessee accent. “I just arrived home yesterday and my parents didn’t tell me you’d moved back. It came as a shock.”
“Sorry it was so unpleasant.” When Casey extended the plate of cupcakes, Sandra took one hesitantly. Jack discreetly kept busy measuring coffee and water into the drip machine.
“I’m going to be real honest here, because there’s no point in hiding things.” Sandra laced her fingers on the table. “While I was using drugs, I had a miscarriage. Messed up as I was, I still wanted that baby. Nobody told me you were pregnant. I…I just wasn’t expecting it.”
Now Casey understood the pain that had prompted her friend’s cutting remark about motherhood. “I can see why you’d be taken aback.”
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