by Debra Webb
He stood there for a moment, trying to reason out why she’d made that last remark. Sure, he took calculated risks when the need arose. Where would she be if he hadn’t?
Where would their baby be?
A shudder rocked through him. He didn’t want to think about that.
And, by God, she’d better get used to him coming around and checking on her.
That baby was his.
CHAPTER FIVE
AS SOON AS LISA had ensured that the animals at her clinic were all safe, she’d picked up a rental car and gone home. Greg had insisted on doing the driving. Nancy Fowler, their reliable, ever-optimistic receptionist, had followed so that she could take Greg back to the office afterward. Greg and Nancy would stay at the clinic late, in the event anyone in the community needed emergency care for their pets.
Lisa, on the other hand, would be home, fretted over by her worried-but-relieved mother, who had insisted on coming to her aid the moment she heard the news. Now, despite a long, warm bath and a calorie-laden dinner only her mother would consider healing, Lisa still felt restless and incredibly at odds with herself. The whole situation felt like some sort of dream she couldn’t wake from.
She sank deeper into the pillows her mother had stacked at the end of the sofa and pulled the cashmere throw up around her chin. She so did not want to think, but her brain just wouldn’t shut down.
Her mother was in the kitchen cleaning. Lisa’s oven was never as shiny as it could be, according to her meticulous mother. This time, rather than simply point out the deficiency, the generous master housekeeper had decided to clean it the right way. As if that weren’t bad enough, her mother had gone on and on about Lisa’s empty refrigerator. How was a girl supposed to keep up her strength with nothing but bottled water in her fridge? her mother lamented.
It was true. Lisa rarely used the stove, so she rarely cleaned it. She seldom cooked at home, since she spent so much time at the office, so why shop? It was easier to pick up something after work. Not fast food either. Several of the better local restaurants offered takeout. It was far simpler than attempting to prepare a decent meal for one. At least that’s what Lisa told herself. It wasn’t that she couldn’t cook—okay, she wasn’t that great at it. But who had the time? This, as her mother would point out, was a cardinal sin. All good Catholic girls knew how to cook.
Lisa sighed. Maybe the stove would keep her mother busy for a while. Lisa had answered about all the questions she could for one night. Any further discussion would risk a breakdown of her defenses.
She just couldn’t tell her mother yet. It wasn’t that she wouldn’t be accepting and understanding…eventually. But how did you tell your mom that you were pregnant when you weren’t married? Didn’t even have a steady boyfriend? Lisa could just imagine her sweet, devoutly Catholic mother demanding to know who the errant father was and then, not so nicely, insisting that the perpetrator marry her daughter.
Nope. She definitely was not ready for that moment of truth.
She clicked off the television and tossed aside the remote. She’d seen all the news she could bear for one evening. Although the earthquake had not done as much damage as early reports indicated, each shot of crushed vehicles and caved-in roofs made Lisa wonder if Joe was still out there risking his life to rescue trapped victims.
When she raised a hand to her face, Lisa’s fingers came away damp. She cursed her weakness. How could she have fallen so hard for such a thick-skulled, single-minded guy?
Joe loved his freedom, reveled in taking risks. What on earth had she been thinking? Her mother had always warned her against men like Joe. They don’t make good marriage material, she had said. Think, Lisa. What you want is a good, reliable model like your father.
That was just it. The relationship between Joe and her had never involved thinking. It had been about fierce attraction, incredible sex. A shiver swept through her as she remembered. Not that she’d had much experience before Joe, but no one had ever made love to her like that. He made her very soul sing with desire.
She frowned, aware of the ache in her head. Closing her eyes, she tried to block out the pain but with no success. The mild pain reliever she’d taken obviously wasn’t strong enough, but she didn’t feel comfortable taking anything else. She’d just have to deal with it. Sleep would be a relief, if only she could turn off her thoughts. Her mother would wake her every couple of hours to make sure she was responding appropriately. Thankfully the nausea and dizziness had pretty much passed.
Yet no matter how she tried, she couldn’t put Joe out of her mind. It would be so easy to pretend that the real attraction between them had been mere sex, but, unfortunately, that wasn’t the way of it. Well, not from her side of things, anyway. Yes, the physical draw was relentless, but there was more. She loved looking at him, listening to him talk. His voice…mercy, what a voice. Deep, sensual and, oh, so masculine. The kind of voice that gave any woman in hearing distance goose bumps.
Tall, muscular, with thick, dark hair and equally dark eyes—and the way he moved. She sighed in surrender as her mind replayed moment after moment of the time she’d spent with him. It was more than just the deliberate, confident way he walked that was so appealing. There was an almost calculated efficiency to each flex of muscle. Every single thing about him beckoned to her on a purely female level.
The only thing that had stopped her from telling him the whole truth today was the knowledge that she needed to step back and look at the situation from a more objective angle. And she couldn’t do that in Joe’s presence. No matter how good he looked, how sweet he talked and how well he made love, he was not—repeat not—marriage material. Sadly, her mother was right on that score.
Unfortunately for Lisa, that was the bottom line.
Her first thought was that if Joe discovered the pregnancy, he would run like hell. But then she mulled over all that she knew about him. Her first assessment was wrong. Joe might love being single and playing the field, but he took responsibility very seriously. Maybe he wouldn’t want to play the part of husband, but he would definitely want to be a father to his child.
That would end any hope for her as far as building a relationship with someone else was concerned. She covered her mouth to stifle the laugh that choked out of her. Who would want to risk life and limb to date the mother of Joe Ripani’s child? No man would chance pissing off the Iceman.
God, she was doomed.
Though she would love this child, he or she would ultimately be the only one she ever had. Joe would see to that. While he frolicked with one female admirer after the other, Lisa would be sentenced to a life of utter loneliness and maternal exile.
That left her only one choice.
She could never tell Joe that the child was his. He couldn’t control what he didn’t know.
Before the idea could fully mesh in her brain, her heart objected. She couldn’t do that to him.
“You all right, dear?”
Lisa jerked back to the here and now and focused on her mother’s hovering form. She managed a nod. “I’m fine, Mom.”
Ruth Malloy wasn’t remotely convinced. Those keen blue eyes studied her daughter closely. “Are you sure, dear? I thought I heard you laughing in here. Then I thought maybe you were crying.”
Lisa forced a smile. “No, really. I’m fine. I was just thinking, that’s all.”
Ruth sat down on the coffee table, facing Lisa. “You’re sure I don’t need to call the doctor. I know you’re shaken, but this odd behavior just isn’t like you.” She wrung her hands anxiously. “You’re so quiet…so distant. You’re positive you’re not injured worse than you’re letting on? You’d tell me if the doctor mentioned anything besides a concussion.”
Damn but the woman was good. Lisa took her mother’s hands in hers and did the only thing she could. She avoided the truth. “I promise I would tell you if I were in pain or had any other injuries. And, yes, the whole episode was terrifying, but I’m safe.” She sighed and looked away. �
��Some weren’t as lucky as me.” So far there had been more than a dozen deaths reported across the city. She prayed there wouldn’t be any more.
“Praise our heavenly Father you’re okay,” her mother agreed. “Your sister and her family are safe, and your father and I are, as well.” She looked around Lisa’s cozy living room. “None of our homes were damaged. We were truly blessed.” Her solemn gaze settled on her daughter once more. “Still, I can’t help feeling that you’re not telling me everything.”
Her mother had always known when something wasn’t as it should be, Lisa thought. It was as if the good Lord had blessed her with a kind of ESP where her daughters were concerned. Lisa and Kate had never been able to hide anything from her.
“Really, Mom, everything is fine,” Lisa insisted, assuring herself it was only a white lie, one of many to come, no doubt. Her mother would know the facts soon enough. God, Lisa dreaded that moment. She remembered Kate’s big church wedding. The white wedding dress. For purity, her mother had noted to anyone listening. Ruth Malloy still looked upon the holy state of matrimony the same way her own mother had more than half a century ago. She wasn’t so blind to the ways of the modern world that she didn’t know that people had sex before marriage all the time these days. But as long as her daughters didn’t, she would not judge what the rest of the world did. Then there was the whole single-parent issue. Choosing to have children outside marriage was now completely acceptable in the eyes of many, but it was a huge no-no in the Malloy home.
Lisa suddenly felt very ill, and it had nothing to do with the bump on her head.
“Is it that young man? That fireman, Joe Ripani, who rescued you?” Her mother’s gaze narrowed suspiciously. “You know I warned you about him,” she chided. “Gladys Childers told me that his mother told her that he never stays with one girl for long. He goes from one to the next as if he’s afraid there might be a shortage in the future and he has to get his fill now.”
Lisa clamped down on her bottom lip to keep from smiling. This was not amusing, even if Gladys Childers was right. Courage Bay might be a thriving metropolis, but it was still amazing how many people knew each other. There were few secrets.
“I know you liked him a lot,” Ruth went on. She adjusted the throw around Lisa’s legs. “Not that I can blame you. He’s a handsome man.” She ushered Lisa into an upright position so she could fluff her pillows. “But he’s a heartbreaker.” She eased her daughter back into a reclining position. “Not to mention his work. They say he takes far too many risks. Turns off all emotion as if he thinks nothing of his own life.”
“That’s his job,” Lisa pointed out. Not that she was taking Joe’s side here. “If he didn’t do his job, I might not be here right now.”
“Well, now, you’ve got a point there,” her mother allowed. “And I’m grateful to him. But what kind of life would that be for the woman who marries him? Always worrying that he wouldn’t come home to you.” She shook her head. “Why, how could you live like that? What you need is a good, reliable husband who considers the repercussions of what he’s about to do before he acts. Like your father.”
Lisa had heard this advice more times than she could remember. Careful, reliable. The most dangerous work her father ever did was write out a high-risk life insurance policy for a new client.
Ruth felt her daughter’s forehead and then patted her hand. “No matter how much of a fire he sets in your soul, dear, it’s the stability in the marriage that counts. Think what a fine life your father and I have had. Trust me, dear, stick with those men who are a bit more refined. Gladys has a nephew who just made vice president at the bank.”
If Lisa hadn’t already been depressed, she would have been after this little pep talk. Of course, her mother had no way of knowing that it was far too late for Lisa to be worrying about such things now. She’d already fallen hard for Joe and she was carrying his child. Her future was no longer her own.
THE FIRST TWELVE HOURS after the quake were the most crucial. The last live rescue had occurred at 12:15 a.m., and so far only fourteen lives had been lost. To Joe’s way of thinking, that was fourteen too many. And it would be weeks before the full extent of the property damage was known. None of the victims were friends of Joe’s but one of the guys in his squad had known one of the victims discovered on the lower level of the parking garage. The vic, a Lance Corker, was a technician of some sort at Esmee Engines. Joe vaguely recognized the name of the company but had never heard of Corker.
The outpouring of support in the form of aid from surrounding communities had allowed for success in even the most technically challenging extrications. Now, nearly twenty-four hours after disaster struck, the secondary search was in full swing. Heavy equipment and canines from a dozen law enforcement agencies were on the job. The American Red Cross mobile disaster team had arrived and the Salvation Army was on hand to provide additional support.
Joe’s squad, after working through the night, had been debriefed and ordered back to the station house for food and rest. Counseling sessions would come later. All emergency personnel were encouraged to discuss their disaster experiences to help head off post-traumatic stress disorder.
Property-damage assessment had begun at daybreak. Teams of engineers would evaluate every structure, even those seemingly untouched by the quake, for stress damage. Nothing would be left to chance.
Joe pushed himself up from his bunk. No way could he sleep a minute longer. Three hours was enough. He was itching to call Lisa. Just to make sure she was okay, he assured himself. But that was a lie.
He wanted to give her another chance to tell him that she was pregnant.
With his child.
But he couldn’t bring himself to make the call.
All night long, even during the most complicated rescues, some part of his thoughts was on her. Was she okay? Was the baby okay? Surely Dr. Winslow would have checked out all the possibilities. That was probably what all the blood work had been about.
Then again, he had told her to see an obstetrician. Maybe there was some question in his mind.
Joe shook off that idea. He felt certain the doc would have admitted Lisa to the hospital if he’d been worried about the pregnancy in any way, especially considering the trauma she’d just gone through.
He ran his fingers through his hair. He was restless. Damn restless. He couldn’t sit still. Couldn’t stop thinking about her. The only thing he could come up with to do was to get an update on the rescue efforts and jump in to help out. He’d had all the rest he needed.
But first he had to have some coffee. Maybe a strong dose of caffeine would clear his head.
Joe slowed outside the kitchen. He didn’t make it a habit of eavesdropping, in spite of the fact that he’d done just that at the hospital yesterday. Generally he didn’t pay much attention to other people’s business. That’s the way he liked it. If he didn’t nose around in their affairs, they wouldn’t nose around in his.
But when he heard Lisa’s name mentioned, he stopped near the kitchen door. The firehouse kitchen served as a gathering place more often than not.
“I’ll let you know,” O’Shea was saying to Spike and Bull. “I’m having lunch with Lisa later this afternoon.”
So O’Shea and Lisa were having lunch.
Joe decided that maybe he wouldn’t have to call Lisa to find out how she was doing after all. O’Shea would tell him. A grin slid across his face. A little reverse psychology and he’d get all the info he needed. Maybe enough to devise an excuse to drop by and see her, giving her that chance to come clean with him.
Satisfied that he had the situation under control, Joe followed the smell of rich, freshly brewed coffee. He didn’t know why he’d ever worried. He could handle Lisa. She would see this his way, he was certain of it.
THINGS WENT DOWNHILL for Lisa.
She’d scarcely slept at all the night before.
Her mother had made a big breakfast that Lisa couldn’t eat. Not with her stomach twisting a
nd undulating with equal parts dread and anxiety. She thought it was too early for morning sickness, but she wasn’t sure. And she couldn’t ask her mother or her sister. At this point she couldn’t talk to anyone.
The entire day, she’d alternated between joy and panic. Surely this emotional roller coaster wasn’t good for the baby. She had to find a way to get herself under control.
She’d called the obstetrician’s office and made an appointment, then picked up the vitamins that Brad had prescribed. Even the pharmacist had seemed to look at her with curiosity, though she was likely imagining it, the result of her own self-doubts.
Tears brimmed on her lashes yet again. This was so silly. She couldn’t walk around like this, taking out her irritation on the rest of the world. What would people think? She had patients to see. And with patients came their owners. No one knew her secret yet. Why couldn’t she get that fact through to her emotions?
Hormones.
The realization struck like a sudden summer storm. Well, of course. Her hormones were fluctuating, causing her extreme highs and lows.
If she remembered correctly, that problem would pass eventually. There wasn’t a hell of a lot she could do about it. With that in mind, she called in her next patient.
Four dogs, two guinea pigs and one cat later, Lisa had to take a break. She’d promised Shannon they would have lunch this afternoon, but she wasn’t sure she could hold out until then without eating something. Her stomach felt far too queasy to risk the wait.
The waiting area was finally clear, but she knew from experience that it would fill up again by two or three that afternoon. People were trying to go about their usual business, and most of the appointments were for vaccinations and checkups. Lisa had seen only one earthquake-related patient, a dog who’d been trapped in a collapsed storage building. Lucky for him, he’d come out of the ordeal without injury. Two closely spaced pillars of concrete blocks had formed a protective enclosure. Still, his master had wanted him checked out just to be sure.
