things that could have been his. That would have been his if it hadn't been for that damned plane crash.
"How is Danielle?" Really, the question was a masterpiece. A casual listener would never have guessed what it cost him to ask it. But Brittany wasn't a casual listener and she knew exacdy how difficult it was for him to be a casual visitor in Danielle's life. She was Dan's child by blood and Michael's by every other standard that mattered.
"Danielle's fine. She's growing so fast. Sometimes it seems as if I just turn around and she's grown another inch."
"I biow. I saw her a couple of weeks ago." Dan shrugged in answer to her questioning look. "I just happened to be going by her nursery school while die kids were out playing. She's turning into a real litde beauty."
"Danielle didn't mention seeing you."
"I didn't talk to her. I figured the teachers would probably call the police if a strange man started talking to one of the kids. I was just driving by."
"You're not a strange man," Brittany denied firmly. "You're...a friend of the family. Danielle knows you."
"Well, I didn't really have time to stop, anyway." Dan dismissed the incident. Not for anything in the world would he admit that he often drove by the nursery school when the children were outside. Brittany would probably think he was losing his mind. And maybe he was. But it was a sort of bittersweet pleasure to see Danielle. For a moment, he could almost imagine what his life would have been like if things had gone the way they should have.
"Michael misses you." Brittany interrupted his thoughts. "The two of you were best friends once."
"That was a long time ago. It's nobody's fault that things went the way they did, Brittany. I don't blame Michael for what happened. In fact, I'm glad he was there for you and Danielle," he said, surprised to realize how much he meant it "But things have changed. We're not the same people we were."
"I still think—"
"Don't," he cut in, a smile taking the sting out of his words. "Don't think about it. I don't."
It was a patent lie but he really didn't want to talk about the friendship he'd once had with Michael or think about the way his life might have gone. He was grateful for the waitress's arrival with their meals. Even more grateful that Brittany didn't insist on picking up the conversation when the waitress left.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. A comfortable silence, Dan realized, a little surprised. He could sit across the table from Brittany and no longer be overwhelmed by a sense of what might have been. At some point they'd managed to make the shift from lovers to friends.
"Are you dating anybody in particular?" Brittany asked, her elaborately casual tone completely failing to mask her curiosity.
He wished he could have told her he was. But he couldn't remember the last time he'd been on a date, the last time he'd even met a woman he wanted to date.
He had a sudden memory of big brown eyes and silky soft skin. The girl from New Year's Eve. Funny how she popped into his thoughts at odd times. But he couldn't even remember her name. And he wouldn't really say they'd had a date. An encounter maybe, an incident, one of the more confusing experiences of his life, but definitely not a date.
"No, I'm not seeing anyone," he said at last, a slight frown creasing his forehead.
"I could introduce you to a couple of women I know," Brittany offered casually.
"I don't need a matchmaker," he snapped, stung that Brittany, of all people, should be offering to fix him up with a date.
"Sorry." Her eyes reflected her startlement at this reaction. To his horror, he saw the shimmer of tears.
"No, no. I'm the one who's sorry," he said hastily. "I shouldn't have snapped like that For God's sake, don't cry." He shoved a handftil of napkins at her, his expression so panicked that Brittany laughed, a slightly watery sound but reassuring.
"I'm not going to burst into tears." She dabbed at her eyes
with the edge of a napkin, "Don't mind me. I'm just a little overemotional these days."
"Is something wrong? You said everything was going all right. There's nothing wrong with Danielle, is there, or Michael? You're not sick."
She laughed again at the rapid-fire questions, shaking her head. "Nothing's wrong. Nobody's sick." She hesitated, her cheeks flushing softly. "I'm just a little pregnant and it's got my emotions all topsy-turvy."
In his concern, Dan had leaned across the table toward her and now he sat back with a thump. He felt her words as if they were a physical blow, knocking the wind from his lungs. Pregnant. He groped for something to say.
"A little pregnant? Isn't that like being a little dead? I mean, there's no halfway with that sort of thing, is there?"
"I guess not" She laughed a little, still flushed. "I'm just not quite used to the idea yet, I guess."
Glowing. He'd heard the term used when people talked about pregnant women but he'd never actually noticed it himself. But Brittany was definitely glowing. When he'd first seen her and thought she was even more beautiful, he'd been seeing the glow pregnancy gave her. Had she looked like this while she was carrying his child?
Looking at him, Brittany must have been able to read something of his thoughts. Her smile faded, replaced by a look of concern. She reached across the table to touch the hand he'd unconsciously clenched.
"Dan..."
"Congratulations, Brittany." He deliberately cut her off, knowing it was rude and not caring. He didn't want to listen to her tell him that he'd find a wonderful woman soon. In fact, if he didn't get out of here soon, he was going to do something he'd regret, like break the table in two with his bare hands.
"Look at the time." He glanced at his watch without seeing it. "I told Lee I wouldn't take too long. Lunch is on me."
He threw a few bills on the table and started to slide out of the booth, pausing when he caught the look of distress in Brit-
tany's eyes. He was behaving like a first-class bastard. His face softened as he reached out to catch one of her hands.
"I'm really happy for you, Brittany. Truly happy. No one deserves this more than you and Michael." He stood, still holding her hand and bent to kiss her on the forehead.
She clung to his hand for a moment, her eyes serious. "Don't be such a stranger. Come and see us."
"Sure," he promised, knowing he had no intention of doing any such thing.
Dan left the diner and started across the street to the garage, changing his mind at the last minute and angling away from it. He wasn't ready to talk to anyone. He shoved his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders against the cold as he strode down the sidewalk.
Brittany was pregnant.
The knowledge settled like a lead weight in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't that he begrudged her and Michael this happiness. It wasn't even the thought that, had things turned out differently, this child might have been his. He'd come to terms with the fact that he couldn't change what had happened.
In his more rational moments, he even faced that maybe what he and Brittany had had wouldn't have survived the stresses of marriage. She'd been so young. And he'd had so much growing up to do. That was one thing you could say in favor of Central American prisons: people tended to mature very quickly in them.
No, he was genuinely glad for her. But seeing her so happy, so settled, made him wonder when he was going to find even a portion of that happiness. Maybe it was being the only one to survive the plane crash that had killed his father and everyone else on board; maybe it was the time in prison that had made him realize how short life could be.
He wanted a home, a family, the things that really counted in life. He wanted something to anchor him, a reason to get up in the morning, something to look forward to as the years went on.
When was he going to find any of those things?
* * *
Kelly shook convulsively. The gas station bathroom was un-heated and the bare tiles seemed to intensify the chill outside, driving it bone deep.
But it wasn't the cold that made her s
hake. Crouched against the wall, Kelly was hardly aware of the temperature. The cold she felt was lodged deep inside her, spreading outward to drive the color from her skin, leaving her as pale as the white porcelain fixtures.
It was early in the morning, so early the sun itself still held a sleepy look about it Kelly had crept out of the house just after dawn, leaving her father sleeping. She hadn't slept at all last night. Knowing what she was planning, terrified that if she fell asleep she might not wake up in time to slip out of the trailer before he awoke, she'd lain awake all night, listening to his mutterings, counting every tick of the clock.
And now she'd gotten her answers from the little pink-and-white box. The test tube sitting on the edge of the cracked sink confirmed what she'd already guessed. The gap in her schedule, the nausea in the mornings, the feeling that something had changed...
It had taken her nearly three weeks to scrape up the money to buy the box that was now spelling her doom. She'd concealed it in the toolshed, awaiting an opportunity to sneak out first thing in the morning. She hadn't dared to bring it into the trailer, sure that her father would somehow sense its presence.
Kelly shivered again, her knuckles turning white where they gripped the edges of her coat. If her father found out... Just die thought made her dizzy with fear. She pressed her forehead against her updrawn knees.
She was pregnant
Even thinking the words made them seem too real. She wanted to push them away, deny them, make their reality a lie.
Pregnant
She drew a harsh, sobbing breath. It had to be a mistake. God couldn't be so cruel. He couldn't punish her like this. Not just for that one night Hadn't her father already punished her enough? She ground her forehead against her knees, clenching her teeth to keep the sobs back.
If he found out she was pregnant, he'd kill her. There was no doubt in her mind about that. She had to get away before he found out, before it became impossible for her to conceal it from him any longer.
A baby. She was expecting a stranger's baby. She knew almost nothing about him. He'd told her his name and where he worked. Not very much to know about the father of her child. She'd tried so hard to forget that night, blocking it from her mind as if just to think about it would make it real.
But it had been real. No amount of pretending could change that. She carried the reality inside her. Along with a despairing fear.
Rocking back and forth on the cold tile, she felt hot tears slide down her icy cheeks. There had to be a way out. If only she could think of it. There had to be some way out.
"Hey, Dan." Dan turned as Lee called his name. "There's somebody here to see you."
Dan lifted his hand in acknowledgment, feeling a stir of curiosity. He couldn't imagine who would be here to see him. He hadn't kept up many friendships. Unless it was Brittany. He'd half expected her to seek him out since their conversation two days ago. One thing about Brittany, she could never bear to leave anything unfinished. Especially when it came to someone she cared about.
He wiped his greasy hands on an equally greasy rag that did more to redistribute the grease than remove it. If it was Brittany, he was going to lie to her and tell her that he was dating someone.
But it wasn't Brittany. In fact, it wasn't anyone he knew. He studied his visitor as he walked across the garage. She was standing outside the office, her shoulders hunched inside her thin coat, though the sun had come out with springlike warmth this morning.
She was small, not much more than five feet. The thin coat was worn and much too small even for her thin frame. Her feet were stuck into a pair of old men's work boots that were several sizes too large. Her dark hair was dragged back from her
face with a rubber band that was pulled so tight it actually made his scalp hurt to see it.
She was too thin, the bones of her face too sharp, too stark. Her eyes were large and dark and might have been pretty if the rest of her hadn't looked so worn and beaten. She was young, not more than eighteen or nineteen, and obviously very poor.
She was also a complete stranger.
She watched him approach, some expression flickering across her pale face that he couldn't quite catch. Fear?
"I'm Dan Remington," he said as he stopped in front of her.
"I know." Her voice was low, husky and vaguely familiar. Was she related to someone he knew? He waited for her to say something more but she only stood there, staring at him with those big eyes.
"What can I do for you?" he asked at last when the silence threatened to stretch to unmanageable lengths. He tried a smile on her. It had no effect.
"I'm pregnant."
The words were flat, without inflection. She might just as easily have said that the sun was out. Dan stared at her, waiting for her to add something, to explain her flat announcement. When nothing was forthcoming, he groped for an appropriate response.
4 'Congratulations.''
Chapter 4
lie knew immediately that he'd said the wrong thing. A slow flush crept into her cheeks. Her body seemed to tighten as if from the impact of a blow.
"Look, I'm sorry. I—"
"You don't remember me, do you?" she cut into his stammered apology.
Dan stared at her, feeling a creeping sense of disaster. There was something almost familiar about her. But he couldn't place the familiarity, couldn't quite bring it into focus.
She must have been able to see the answer to her question in his eyes. She didn't wait for him to speak. She turned and started to walk away, her back rigid with humiliation. There was something painfully dignified in that thin little figure despite the tattered clothes and clumsy boots.
"Wait!" Dan caught up with her in a few strides, catching her arm before he remembered his greasy hands. He dropped her elbow with a muttered apology though he didn't really think she cared if he put a mark on her coat. She stood in front of him, her features stiff.
It wasn't hard to read her expression now. Pride, anger, hu-
miliation and a kind of underlying desperation that tugged at Dan's heart. But she had to have the wrong man. He didn't know this girl. Certainly not in the way she apparently thought he did.
She said nothing, waiting for him to speak. The ball was clearly in his court and he groped around for a moment before finally lifting his shoulders in a weak shrug.
"Look, I'm sorry."
"New Year's Eve."
Three simple words but they exploded with the force of a grenade. Dan felt their impact as an actual physical blow.
"You were the girl in the bar." The words weren't a question but she nodded, her eyes focused on the view just past his shoulder. Dan stared at her, trying to sort through his tangled memories of that night. She wasn't wearing any makeup and the clothes were different. Her whole carriage was different. That was why he hadn't recognized her. But with her hair down...
He sucked in a deep breath. In an instant, his world had been picked up, given a good shake and set down in an entirely new pattern.
"We have to talk. Wait here," he told her, his face grim. In the few minutes it took him to strip off his stained coverall and sluice the grease off his hands, Dan kept his mind carefully blank. It wasn't as difficult as it might have seemed. In fact, he wasn't sure he could have summoned up much by way of intelligent thought if he'd tried.
He told Lee he was going out and that he probably wouldn't be back for the rest of the day. From Lee's expression, it was clear that he'd guessed something was wrong but he didn't ask any questions. One of the benefits of old friends, Dan thought. They knew when to ask a question and when to mind their own business.
The girl was waiting where he'd left her, her shoulders hunched inside the coat. As he approached, Dan realized that it was the only way she could get the cheap garment to close across the front.
Her coat was too small, her boots were too big. She was too
thin, too pale and she was too young. His mouth tightened into a grim line. He must have been out of his mind.
> "Come on." He reached to take her arm but she shied away, as if his touch might burn. Dan's fingers clenched as his hand dropped away. "We can talk at Rosie's across the street," he said without expression.
She nodded without looking at him. He shortened his stride to match hers. The too-large boots forced her to take short, shuffling steps. If it hadn't been for the smooth line of her cheek, she might have been mistaken for an elderly bag lady shuffling along some inner-city street. For some reason the thought made him feel both angry and guilty.
Midafternoon was not one of Rosie's peak hours and they had their choice of booths. Dan led the girl to the booth all the way in the back. It was only as he was sliding into the seat across from her that he remembered this was exactly where he and Brittany had sat two days ago. When she'd told him she was expecting a baby. Maybe there was something about this booth that lent itself to discussing pregnancies. He made a mental note to avoid it in the future.
The waitress arrived before Dan had removed his coat. She knew Dan and gave him a friendly smile, sliding a curious glance at the girl across from him.
"What can I get for you, hon? Coupla coffees to take the chill off?"
"Coffee for me," Dan said. When the girl said nothing, he hesitated for a moment before continuing. "And a cup of tea."
"Comin' right up."
"I'm old enough to drink coffee," the girl snapped as soon as the waitress was gone.
"I didn't say you weren't," he said, his tone sharp. "If you want coffee, I'll call her back."
"Oh." She subsided back against the booth, a tinge of color coming up in her cheeks. "No. I don't really like coffee, anyway. Tea will be nice. Thank you." She added the last as punctiliously as a child at a tea party.
Dan almost groaned. How the hell old was she, anyway? She'd removed her coat and the curves that were just visible
beneath the shapeless gray dress were somewhat reassuring. Still...
"How old are you?" he asked abruptly.
'Tm eighteen." She seemed surprised by the question but she answered promptly.
The Baby Bargain Page 4
