"Whoa!" Jenna wrinkled her nose at him. "I might be a little old-fashioned, but homemade bread? Not unless you'd like a few broken teeth. Yeast and I just don't get along. And as far as the pitter-patter of little feet..." She shook her head. "There's no hurry, remember? We've already decided to put that off for a while."
"I know. But I've been thinking." He gave a shrug. "We've got money in the bank and we're financially able to support a child. Why wait?"
Jenna stared up at him for a few seconds before gently pulling away from his arms. "But we already agreed," she protested. "We were going to wait at least a year."
Neil frowned. "What's the matter, Jenna? I thought you liked children."
She half turned away from him, aware of the displeasure in his tone. "I do," she said earnestly, then hesitated. "But there's plenty of time—"
"This is the perfect time." Neil's face softened as he caught her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "And how are perfect in every way for me, Jenna. You'll be a perfect wife, a perfect mother." He bent to take her lips in a brief kiss. "That's why I'd like to buy this place. My apartment in Houston is no place to bring up a child. Here he or she will have room to run, room to grow."
Jenna grew suddenly stiff in his arms. "You want to buy this house because you think it's the perfect place to bring up a child? I thought you wanted it for us."
The minute the words were out of her mouth she realized how selfish they sounded. But Neil didn't seem to notice.
"I do. For all of us. And now that I've been giving it some serious consideration, I like the idea of having a child right away. After all, I'm a man on his way up and I won't be at Citizens for Texas forever. And I have an idea being a family man could be a big plus for my career."
"A man on his way up..." Jenna could hardly believe what she was hearing. His tone was matter-of-fact, but laced with a touch of something she found oddly disturbing. "I thought you liked your job," she said slowly. "I thought you believed in what Citizens for Texas stands for. Environmental law is your specialty."
"That's not the point, Jenna." There was a slight tinge of exasperation in his voice. "The experience has been invaluable, but who says I have to be locked in to one organization for the rest of my life? In fact, I've been putting out a few feelers lately and it looks as if I might be in hot demand. We're going places, lady!" he said almost gleefully. "I have big plans, Jenna. Plans for me, plans for you, plans for us." His blue eyes gleamed as he squeezed her waist and grinned down at her.
Jenna felt almost sick. There was nothing wrong with a little ambition. After all, Neil had had so little as a child and he'd come such a long way. But she couldn't shake the feeling that he was being greedy, that he wanted too much too soon. She had to struggle to find her voice. "And those plans include starting a family right away?"
"The sooner the better. In fact, even six weeks is too long to wait." His expression changed as he bent to take her lips in a hungry kiss. "I wish we were getting married tomorrow," he whispered against her mouth. "And don't say you weren't warned—I don't intend to let you out of bed for an entire week after we're married."
And that should accomplish what he wanted quite effectively, Jenna reflected with some resentment. Unable to feel her usual tingling response at his touch, she pulled away from him to gaze out the window. Darkness was settling, and pink and purple clouds hovered on the horizon. Love and family and children were what marriage was all about, so why was she feeling such a burning sense of betrayal? Neil was a strong-principled man, staunch and firm in his beliefs. He was close to his parents and two sisters, perhaps not as close as she was to her mother and father, but they kept in touch and spent many holidays together. And yet... here he was talking about making a home, having children and his career in the same breath.
She clenched her hands. She was overreacting, she told herself frantically. Putting too much into his words, looking beyond them. But that didn't explain her strange reaction to the mention of a baby so soon in their future.
Jenna's skin grew cold and clammy. Suddenly she knew what was behind this vague feeling of doubt she was experiencing, and it could be summed up in a word.
Robbie.
"Jenna, what's wrong?"
She could feel Neil's puzzled look on her face and shook her head quickly. There were some things better left unsaid and—God, but she hated to think it forgotten. Buried in the past, where they belonged.
She forced a smile. "Nothing. Nothing at all."
And she went through the evening with a curious feeling of hope in her heart—hope that the matter would work itself out and things could go back to the way they were before. But it was a sense of blighted hope, as she soon discovered.
They had finally agreed to put off making a decision about the house and give it a little more thought, but again and again over the next three days she recalled his wish for a child, and soon the words hung over her like an oppressive shroud. He wanted a family right away. Regardless of Robbie, regardless of Neil's reasons, the idea shouldn't have bothered her so much. They had discussed children soon after their engagement six months ago, and she'd known the first time they'd touched on the subject that she was going to have to deal with it eventually. But now that the prospect was baldly staring her in the face, she was aware of a nagging restlessness inside her, and she wasn't sure why.
Still, she tried to delude herself. She even tried to picture herself as the mother of Neil's child. Would he or she have Neil's rich brown hair with her green eyes? Or would he have her dark hair and Neil's blue eyes? Or would their child be a carbon copy of him—or her?
But that was when the trouble really started, because no matter how many times she tried to envision herself with a baby in her arms—Neil's baby—all she could see was another.
She drew a deep, unsteady breath as she continued to gaze vacantly at the Gulf. There would come a day when she could remember Robbie without this hurting, empty ache inside, but when? When?
She couldn't hide things from Neil any more than she could continue to deceive herself, and the matter had finally come to a head a few hours ago. Neil had come for dinner, and it was after they had cleared the table that he drew her down beside him on the couch.
His fingers slid beneath her hair to knead the taut muscles of her shoulders. "Something's bothering you, Jenna," he remarked softly. "Tell me what's wrong."
Jenna sat silent for a long time, her fingers clasped tightly in her lap. For an instant she considered telling him the truth—"the whole truth, nothing but the truth." The phrase rang like a death sentence through her mind. Still, given the same set of circumstances again, she knew she'd have done exactly the same thing as she'd decided before. But would Neil understand? Would he forgive her? Yet what was there to forgive? She'd done nothing wrong; she had nothing to be ashamed of. She had given two people what they had desperately longed for, all they'd ever wanted in the world, and it was a gift more precious than gold.
She had once promised herself there would be no regrets, no dwelling on the past or on what might have been.
"You've been acting strangely ever since I showed you the house." Despite his soothing touch on the muscles of her shoulders, there was a trace of impatience in his voice. "I thought you liked it."
A sigh escaped her lips and she smiled weakly. "I love the house, Neil."
When she hesitated, he pressed on. "Then what is it?" His eyes on her averted profile, he frowned, and then comprehension suddenly dawned. "It's what I said about having a baby, isn't it?"
Jenna nodded, then hesitated. "I'm not sure we should rush into it right away," she said slowly. "It would be nice to have some time to ourselves for a while."
"We've known each other for two years already, Jenna," he reasoned calmly. "And we'd have almost another year even if you got pregnant right away."
She turned away from his eyes, unable to bear his piercingly direct regard. Somehow she realized she'd secretly been nursing the hope that his desir
e to have a baby so soon was perhaps a moment of whimsy, a fanciful notion. After all, they'd been standing in what he hoped to see as their home, looking into the future.
She shifted uneasily on the cushions. "Yes, that's true, but..." She stopped, unsure of what she wanted to say, unsure of what was driving her. She and Neil were about to start a life together. Why was she suddenly plagued by doubt and senseless fears? What was wrong with her?
"I don't think you realize how strongly I feel about this, Jenna," he told her with a hint of obstinacy. "So I'd like to have a baby. What's the problem?"
"That's all well and good, Neil," she said in a carefully neutral tone. "But you seem to be forgetting I have a voice in this, as well."
Neil drew back from her abruptly. "I'm not trying to force you into anything," he said coldly. "But I'm thirty-six years old. I want to have a family while I'm young enough to enjoy it. I want to be able to run and play with my children—I don't want to be resigned to sitting on the sidelines because I'm too damned old to have a little fun."
Jenna prickled like a cat at his sharp tone. "You're exaggerating," she countered swiftly. "You're as fit as any twenty-year old—and you're making it sound as if you're about to fall over dead any day now!"
His mouth tightened angrily. "I suppose it never occurred to you that not only would I like to be around for my children, but I'd like to be here to see my grandchildren, too!"
Her lips puckered with annoyance, she stared at him as he paced around the room. He was being completely unreasonable—wasn't he? How many couples did she know who elected to have a baby right after they were married? Surely not many. If it happened, more than likely the baby was on the way before they were married. If only he hadn't mentioned that a family could be a boon to his career. If only...
But suddenly she realized she was only making excuses. No matter what his reasons, she should have had no reservations about carrying Neil's baby, whether it was now or ten years from now. Creating a child together was the ultimate expression of love between a man and a woman, wasn't it? The thought of having Neil's child should have held no doubts, no uncertainties, but—God help her—it did. And she didn't know why.
She knew only that in some twisted, jumbled way deep in her soul it had something to do with Robbie. She closed her eyes as a feeling of hopelessness rose inside her.
"Well, don't you have anything to say?"
Jenna flinched at Neil's angry bark, opening her eyes to stare at him. His arms were crossed over his chest. She could see frustration warring with anger in his dark blue eyes, and something else, as well. The harsh and implacable look she detected on his face stunned her.
Her mind whirled giddily. She had the strangest sensation that she was seeing him for the first time...and he wasn't the earnest, thoughtful man she had come to know at all, but a stubborn one. Unyielding. She felt helpless, suddenly drained, suddenly. .. so very empty inside.
Slowly she shook her head, her eyes dark and cloudy as she looked at him. "I'm sorry, Neil," she said quietly. "But this is something I'll have to work out for myself."
A tense silence settled over the room. When Neil finally spoke, his voice was curiously flat and hollow sounding. "So this is where we stand. You go your way and I go mine." He paused. "Is this any way to start our marriage, Jenna?"
* * *
Even now, hours later, his words caused an empty ache and a feeling of frustration to well up inside her. Jenna stirred on the chair and glanced at the luminous dial of her watch. It was nearly midnight. She rose and stretched her cramped muscles. In the time that she had known Neil and they had started to date, they'd had the usual heated exchange every so often. But he had never—never—walked out on her. She was sorely tempted to call him.
As if on cue, her cell phone rang. Jenna hurried to answer it, her voice rushed.
"Jenna. Were you asleep?"
Neil. "No. I was just sitting outside... thinking." Her tone was carefully neutral as she eased into a chair. Was he still angry? Upset?
"Outside? You were outside at this time of night?"
She nearly laughed at his sharp tone, reminded of her earlier thoughts. "I'm fine, Neil," she said softly.
He surprised her by pressing no further. Instead he said in that brisk, no-nonsense way of his, "I had to talk to you, Jenna. I called to apologize." When he cleared his throat, she had the feeling that for once he was at a loss for words. But when she made no response, he went on. "You were right, Jenna. Having a baby is something we should decide together. When we make up our minds to go ahead with it, I want it to be something we both want. So..." He seemed to hesitate. "We'll put the idea on hold for a while until you make up your mind."
Jenna sat quietly through the brief speech. Perhaps she should have been relieved; she had won, hadn't she? He wasn't going to try to force something on her she didn't want or wasn't ready for. Neil had come through, after all.... As she had known he would? She hadn't known that, and the thought was jarring.
"I love you, Jenna."
Jenna opened her mouth—but nothing happened. Her throat constricted tightly against the words uttered so easily up until that moment. They simply refused to come, and it was several seconds before she finally found her voice. "I—I love you, too."
"Then I'm forgiven?"
Her fingers tightened on the receiver. "Y-yes."
He didn't seem to notice the almost imperceptible hesitation, and they went on to talk for several more minutes. But while she was on the phone with Neil, the hazy shroud of doubt that had plagued her these past few days at last began to slip away, and she finally felt able to see her way clear through the uncertainty, the shadow of the past
Her thoughts were a strange mixture of hope and fear as she tumbled into bed that night. Later, she thought. Later she would sort out this jumble of emotions about Neil, but for now it would have to wait. Her marriage would have to wait. Everything would have to wait. And she could only hope that Neil would understand, because she had the feeling he would never have brought up the subject of a child if he'd known what it would trigger.
Because in the past few minutes Jenna had come to a very important decision and a startling realization about herself. She had once promised herself she would never look back, but she couldn't go on any longer as she had been—floundering in limbo, caught somewhere in time, trying to forget and never quite being able to, not wanting to go back and yet afraid to take that first step forward to sever all ties.
She was trapped and there was only one way out. In her mind there was no right, no wrong, no past and no future. There was only now . . .
And an overpowering need to see her son once more.
CHAPTER TWO
The decision finally made, Jenna was left feeling oddly at peace with herself. She slept the sleep of the dead that night, awakening the next morning feeling far more refreshed and revitalized than she had all week. She had never been one to wallow in indecision for long; once her mind was made up, she wasted no time making clear her intentions. "Willful" was what her mother called her. She smiled a little as she showered and slipped into jeans and a pale yellow T-shirt. Her father wasn't one to mince words. "Pigheaded" was how he often referred to his daughter.
She made several quick calls to the florist and caterer. But once she sat down to address the wedding invitations she'd started a week earlier, her brief respite of peace began to shatter once more. She had to force herself to plod through the remainder of the guest list. It was well after lunch when she drove over to the post office, but once there, she stood before the big blue mailbox outside for a full minute before slowly dropping the bundles of envelopes inside. Without being consciously aware of it, she found herself at her parents' house a short time later.
She glanced up warily at the threatening purple storm clouds gathering overhead as she switched off the car engine. A gusty wind blowing in from the Gulf rattled the leaves of the huge cottonwood tree bordering the sidewalk as she hurried toward the white two-
story house, wrapped on three sides by a wide porch. Jenna had come to live in this house when she was five years old, and even though she had been on her own since she'd finished her nurse's training, this was the one place in the world she would always think of as home.
A drenching sheet of rain began to fall just before she reached the shelter of the porch. Mindful of her wet feet, she ran around to the back entrance and slipped off her sandals.
"Whew! Just in time!" she muttered, stomping into the kitchen. She reached for a towel and smiled at her mother as she wiped the moisture from her face.
Marie Bradford looked worriedly from her daughter's rain-spattered cotton blouse to the moisture trickling freely down the windowpanes. "Oh, dear," she murmured, "your father will be dripping wet by the time he gets back."
"Dad's gotten lazy since he retired," Jenna said with a shake of her head. "I suppose he's out fishing again."
Her mother nodded. "I'll have to dig out the hot water bottle before he comes home. His circulation isn't what it used to be."
"Oh, come on, Mom," she said softly. Already she could feel herself relaxing, and her lips twitched as she held back a smile. "Can't you think of a better way to keep him warm?"
"Like what?"
"Like body heat, for instance," she murmured. "If it were my husband out there getting soaked to the bone, that's the first thing I'd recommend. And as a nurse, I can't think of a better remedy."
Marie Bradford turned to face her daughter with her hands planted squarely on her hips. "I know what you're trying to say, young lady, and I don't think I need to remind you that you and Neil are half our age!"
Jenna didn't miss the amused glimmer in her mother's brown eyes. She sat back and eyed her as she bustled around the kitchen, wiping the counter and spooning fragrant grounds into the coffeemaker. Her mother was in her mid-sixties, and if it hadn't been for the snowy white hair that she wore in a loose bun on her nape, she might have been taken for a woman twenty years younger. Her skin was smooth and free of wrinkles, her brown eyes snapping and vivacious.
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