THE BABY PLAN

by Susan Gable

  Grace dragged a similar box across the room to Kate, who now sat nestled on the love seat, Matthew sleeping in her arms, Dusty cradling her protectively.

  "You have to open them at the same time," Mel announced. "I'm afraid I'm not terribly creative. You both got the same thing."

  "It's a cow, isn't it?" Harley asked.

  "That would be appropriate," Dusty joked.

  Jake pushed from his post against the wall to slap him on the back of the head. "Watch it."

  Kate paused in the act of handing the sleeping baby to her husband. "Thank you, Jake. You'll pay for that when we get home, mister. On behalf of both of us." She passed Matthew to him, then accepted the box from Grace. "Ready, Harley?"

  Harley nodded and smiled down at the little girl beside her. "Will you help me, Hope?"

  The blond head nodded assent and the small hands grabbed onto the paper. Harley had already learned that any task done with toddler assistance took twice as long, but she didn't mind.

  Once all the green-and-red paper lay piled on the floor in front of them, Harley opened the lid of the white box. Lifting the tissue paper, she pulled out a sweatshirt. She unfolded it, then held it up to inspect the design.

  A lump filled her throat. World's Greatest Aunt curved boldly in green letters across the top. Two sets of small red handprints decorated the rest of the shirt, Grace's labeled on the left, Hope's on the right.

  Harley's nose tingled, and the lights on the tree blurred. A sudden vision of the little pizza-stained handprints on the dining-room wall obscured her vision. World's Greatest Aunt.

  She realized they were all watching her expectantly, Jake more so than the others. His face was carefully composed, no clue to his emotions apparent. He nodded his head slightly and eyed the child beside her.

  She set the sweatshirt back down on her lap and forced a response past the enormous ball bearing lodged in her throat. "It's beautiful, Hope. Thank you so much." She dropped a quick kiss on the girl's head and rose from the sofa, unable to sit still.

  The World's Greatest Aunt was a complete fraud.

  Her stomach lurched and she fought the rising nausea. Tossing her cookies suddenly seemed a real possibility.

  She held up the shirt in front of herself again, and glanced at Kate's similar one, struggling to maintain her composure. "I just have one question. How come mine's so much bigger than hers?"

  Mel laughed and jumped to her feet, enfolding Harley in a hug. "Because you're going to get bigger before you get smaller, sister dear."

  Harley stiffened in Mel's arms at the endearment Christmas wishes made in the past flooded her memory, wishes made as a "lonely only" before she'd lost her father, and wishes made as a lonely foster child.

  Wishes for a sister. Wishes for a family. Wishes for a loving home.

  Mel released her but slid an arm around her shoulder, turning to face the room at large. "Just think, you guys. Next year, this will be even better. Matthew will be walking by then—"

  Kate groaned.

  "And Jake and Harley's baby will be even older than Matthew is right now."

  The room tilted beneath Harley's feet and the grad illusion she'd tried to create and indulge for the day came crashing down around her.

  There'd be no next year for her.

  Her baby would be here with this loving family.

  Harley would be somewhere else.

  Kate would be the only greatest aunt.

  Clutching the sweatshirt to her chest with one had, she covered her mouth with the other but the sob escaped anyhow. Mel stopped her chatter about next year to stare at her.

  Harley backed away, gaze darting around the room. Jake's poker face slipped. Concern and fear showed in his eyes. What was he afraid of? He wasn't the one who'd be alone come next year.

  Her bottom lip trembled. "I … I can't do this." A low-pitched moan crawled from her throat. "I'm sorry."

  She whirled and bolted down the hallway, racing for the solitude of her room, hoping to reach it before she completely fell to pieces.

  * * *

  Chapter 14

  «^»

  Stunned silence descended on the living room in the wake of Harley's unexpected outburst and disappearance. Jake stared in the direction she'd vanished. Cold fear pulsed through his veins. She couldn't do what? And what the hell was she sorry for?

  "What did I say?" Mel asked.

  He pasted what he hoped would pass for an apologetic expression onto his face and glanced at his family. "Hormones." He shrugged. His brother and brother-in-law nodded in understanding, while the women pierced him with expressions sharp enough to cut.

  "Why is Har-we sad, Mommy?" Hope asked.

  Mel bent over and picked up her daughter. "I think maybe Harley's a little tired, sweetie."

  "She don't wike my present?"

  "I think she loved your present, honey."

  Jake edged toward the hallway.

  "Go to her, Jake. We'll finish cleaning up and get out of here." Mel offered him a shaky smile.

  "She's not used to having family." Jake shrugged again. He didn't want to make a major issue in front of them, but he needed to go to her. Now. He had to know exactly what Harley felt she couldn't do.

  "God knows we take some getting used to," Dusty said. "Go on, Jake. See to your wife." He jerked his head at the hallway. "Get going."

  "Thanks." Without a second thought, he turned his back on the now-somber group in the living room and hurried down the hallway.

  The closed door muffled but couldn't conceal her heartbreaking sobs. He slipped into the room and shut the door gently behind him.

  Dim winter light filtered in through the window that faced the side yard. Jake allowed his eyes to adjust to the dark room before turning toward the bed shoved against the far wall.

  She gave no indication that she'd even heard him come in. He'd never seen her shed so much as a single tear, not when she'd admitted to being beaten at the hands of a foster father, nor when she'd spoken of her mother's abandonment or father's death. Now she lay on the small bed sobbing as though her world had ended.

  Compassion overcame his selfish fear. Jake sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her. "Harley—"

  She shook her head, entire body trembling. "No. No." Tears spilled from her eyes and trickled down her cheeks.

  Jake eased himself onto his side and snuggled up behind her. He propped his left elbow on the mattress; with his right hand he stroked her arm. "No what, Harley?"

  "No. Don't—don't touch me."

  "All right." He placed his hand on his hip, but stayed next to her. "You want to tell me what's going on?"

  She sniffed loudly. "It's not real. It's not real."

  "What's not real?"

  "All of it. Us. Them. Oh, God! I can't…" She shook harder, body racked with sobs.

  "Shh. Take it easy." He grasped her shoulder and rolled her over until she faced him, then he gathered her into his arms.

  She pressed her face into his shirt. "I want it to be real!"

  Such a state of near-hysteria couldn't be good for her or the baby. He stroked her hair and back, murmuring softly into her ear. Tender words of comfort flowed from his tongue with little thought or care for the actual meaning. What in the world was she thinking?

  "I—I can't," she hiccupped into his chest. Her hand slipped to the mound of her belly and she rubbed it protectively. "Peanut … I can't, Jake."

  Damn it, she was going to renege on their arrangement. He was going to lose this child, like he'd lost Austin. Well, not without a fight. This one belonged to him.

  "And what about her?" a demanding voice asked from the back of his mind.

  He shoved the fear aside, deciding to focus solely on calming the trembling woman in his arms. Only when she could talk coherently could he get any real information out of her, and there was absolutely no point in panicking before that. "Shh. Try to relax."

  She inhaled in short, jerking gasps, and he worried she'd hyperven
tilate. "Breathe slowly. It'll be okay." He continued to caress her hair, murmuring commands to help her regulate the harsh breathing. "Everything's going to be fine."

  He wasn't sure Harley was the one he needed to convince.

  Gradually, she relaxed in his arms, muscles losing their tension little by little. She no longer twitched or sobbed, and her breathing evened out to a smooth tempo only occasionally broken by a small hiccup.

  It took him a few minutes to realize she'd fallen asleep. Harley the invincible, Harley the stoic, had cried herself to sleep in his arms. Without providing the answers he sought.

  He sighed and rested his chin against the top of her head. The warmth of her body in his arms had an innate rightness about it, a perfect fit—something he was loath to give up. The absurdity of the situation wasn't lost on him. He'd planned their relationship carefully, logically, all contingencies considered in advance. Except for one. He'd never expected to fall in love with her. And looking backward, he could see he'd lost control of the situation early on.

  What did he do about it?

  He needed a new plan. One that wouldn't involve losing her. Or their child. He wasn't certain he'd survive such a loss.

  How exactly did one go about keeping a woman? He'd never really thought about it before. When Stacy left—once he'd gotten over the initial shock and pain—he'd simply said good riddance and turned away from women in general. Come to think of it, his stepfather had acted the same way when Jake's mother had walked out.

  What made a woman stay?

  Give her what she wants.

  Great. Now, if he just knew what Harley wanted. But he had the nagging suspicion that even she didn't know.

  The shadows in the room deepened as he lay with his arms around her, pondering his future and designing plans that would persuade the mother of his child to stay with him.

  * * *

  Her leg twitched against his, then her arm, jolting Jake back from his nap. She stirred restlessly in his arms, murmuring under her breath.

  "Harley?"

  She stilled again, body relaxing back into the comfort of untroubled sleep. He brushed his fingertips along her cheek, gliding over the soft lines of her features. Moving closer, he placed a gentle kiss just above her eyebrow. "I love you," he whispered. "What am I supposed to do about that?"

  He reached down and lifted the hem of her sweater, letting his hand sneak underneath. He slipped it beneath the waist of her pants to caress the warm, firm flesh of her pregnant belly.

  The baby bumped lightly against his palm. Single-minded and determined, plan carefully worked out, he'd achieved what he'd set out to do. A child of his own, one he had legal rights to, lay cradled in the warmth below his hand. "I just wanted to protect you," he whispered. He wanted to spare his child the pain he'd known, the pain he'd watched Mel and Dusty suffer, hell, even the pain Harley herself had suffered. But in doing so, he'd managed to plan himself into a situation fraught with even greater pain for everyone involved. And he'd only come up with one clear solution—Harley had to be persuaded to stay. Forever. No revolving door for her.

  "Will you help me, baby?" He wasn't certain she actually wanted the child, or to be a mother. Her incoherent ramblings had left him with more questions than answers.

  Her body twitched again, and Jake slid his palm along her belly, soothing, caressing. She moaned in her sleep and pushed at his hand. "No."

  "Easy, Harley. It's okay."

  She thrashed her head. "No, don't."

  "Don't what, sweetheart?"

  She whimpered softly and her legs jerked, obvious indications of a nightmare. He removed his hand from her stomach and put his arms around again, drawing her close. "Shh. It's going to be okay."

  "Don't!"

  The single word held a heartfelt plea that struck to the core of his soul. "Don't what? What are you afraid of?" He rubbed small circles on her back.

  "Don't take my baby."

  Funny, he knew exactly how she felt. She shifted in his arms, hands instinctively seeking the mound beneath her sweater. "Peanut, Peanut…" She dissolved into soft whimpers again.

  "No one's taking the baby, Harley. Everything's fine." Or it would be. He'd see to it. "Shh. You just sleep now."

  * * *

  Warmth. Blessed warmth and a sense of security enveloped her as she rose toward wakefulness. The spicy, sharp scent of a man, the texture of a firm chest beneath her cheek, stimulated her reviving senses. She stirred gently, not wanting to disturb him.

  "You awake now?" he whispered.

  She opened her eyes. The bedroom was dark, making sight damn near impossible. "Yeah."

  "You okay?"

  The memories of what she'd done—Hope's gift, making a scene, bolting from the room—came flooding back. "Oh, God, Jake. I'm sorry."

  "There's no need to apologize."

  "What must they think?" She sighed.

  He cupped her cheek in his palm, thumb caressing her skin. "They think you're a tired, hormonal, pregnant woman who isn't used to holidays with family."

  "Then I didn't blow it? I didn't say anything to give us away?"

  "No, not really."

  "What does that mean?"

  "It means you and I need to have a little talk. I want to know exactly what was going through your mind when you lost it. You scared the hell out of me." He unwrapped his arms from around her and sat up.

  Panic grabbed her. "What are you doing?"

  "I'm just going to turn on the light. I want to see you when we talk."

  "No!" She groped around until she found his hand. "Please, leave it dark."

  "Why?"

  Because she'd always found the darkness soothing. She could hide in it. If he turned on the lights, she was done for. "Please, Jake."

  "Are you going to give me straight answers?"

  "The best I can."

  "All right, I suppose I'll have to settle for that." He turned back toward her and stretched out on the bed again. "Why don't you start with what scared you so badly?"

  Her tentative fingers sought his face, traveling lightly across his features, pausing at his lips. She leaned forward to brush her own over them. His mouth was unyielding beneath her kiss. She increased the pressure.

  He grabbed her upper arm and pushed her back. "Harley, no. You're not going to play those kinds of games with me. The question of whether we have incredible chemistry has been answered with a resounding yes. There are a lot of other questions that need to be answered now. Starting with what upset you."

  She pressed her forehead against his chest. "I'm not big on spilling my guts."

  "I've noticed. I also noticed that keeping things bottled up inside you seems to lead to a big explosion." He toyed with her hair. "Talk to me, Harley. I really am your friend, you know." His large, soft hand stroked her head. "I care about you."

  She snorted lightly. "Then besides Charlie, that makes you a first."

  "I can't help the fact that the world is crazy, sweetheart," he said into her ear. "Tell me."

  "Jake, what would you do if I gave you a shirt for Christmas, and it didn't fit right?"

  "I guess I'd take it back."

  "And if it was the wrong color? Or was defective? Or you simply decided you didn't like it?"

  "I'd take it back. But what does that have to do with anything? Or is this just another of your change - the - subject - to - avoid - the - hard - stuff conversations?"

  She shook her head against his chest. "No." She fought against the rising tide of her emotions. "I'm tired of being returned, Jake," she whispered. It had happened to her too many times.

  "Aw, Harley."

  The compassion in his voice nearly sent her into another fishtail. She struggled for control, inhaling deeply.

  He cradled her in his arms, then placed a kiss on her head. "What if I told you I didn't want to return you?"

  The small hairs on the back of her neck bristled. "What?"

  He cleared his throat. "I love you, Harley. I have no
intention of returning you. I want to keep you."

  "No. That's the holiday talking."

  "It most certainly is not. That's my heart talking." He slipped his hand to her waist. "I've been doing some thinking. It's totally unfair of me to bring a child into the world without a mother. I mean, I know it can be done, that a single man can raise a child by himself. But I look at Dusty and Kate, and Mel and Peter, and I want what they have."

  So did she. The dream of a family, a dream she'd buried deep in a tiny corner of her heart many years ago, had been awakened by these people. By him. By the movement of his child within her belly. The problem was, she knew it couldn't come true. Dreams didn't come true for people like her. That was a truth she'd learned over and over. Besides, he deserved better. And so did their baby. "You say that now, and I hope you get what you want, Jake. But it's not going to happen with me." Why did the truth have to hurt so much?

  He stiffened against her. "What do you mean, it's not going to happen with you?"

  "I'm not wife and mother material. You knew that when you picked me as the biological mother of your child. Hell, if we're being honest, that's one of the biggest reasons you picked me."

  "Why no longer matters. What matters is that I love you. You want this baby, Harley. I can see it in the way you act. And don't tell me you're not happy here, in this house, with me."

  "We can't always have what we want, Jake. Trust me on that. Just because I'm bonding with Peanut doesn't mean I'm the best thing for her. Or you, for that matter."

  He moved away from her, sliding farther down the bed. "I don't understand."

  "Like I said, I'm not wife and mother material. What's not to understand? I don't know how to take care of a child. And when you married me, it wasn't for real. What man in his right mind would marry a female mechanic with a criminal record?"

  "I did."

  "But it wasn't real, Jake. You didn't really choose me. You married me because you thought I could give you what you wanted, a baby, no strings attached. You figured a woman with a past like mine, growing up without a mother, not planning on being a mother, would be perfect." Her voice quavered. "I agreed because I thought maybe giving one child in the world a terrific home would balance things out. A terrific home with you, Jake. Not with me. I don't know a darn thing about raising a child or being a wife. Or even being a woman, for that matter."