Baby I’m Yours

by Elks, Carrie

  “So how do we get him to face these feelings?” Caitie asked.

  Breck shrugged. “You can’t. It’s up to him to fight his demons. I only fought mine when I thought I was going to lose you. That’s when I pulled my head out of my ass and finally realized the way I’d been living wasn’t going to work any more. Yeah, you can push those feelings down and pretend they’re not there for a while, but eventually that’s gonna rise up and bite you with teeth more painful than the original hurt. It’s the old fight or flight response. You have to learn to fight.”

  Caitie released Harper’s hand and slid her arms around Breck’s waist, hugging him. “I’m so glad you fought,” she whispered against his chest.

  “Me, too. More than you know.” He kissed the top of her head. “Now why don’t you guys go and grab another coffee and I’ll meet you at the café in a bit?” He slid his finger beneath Caitie’s chin, tipping her head up to kiss her lips. “You did it, baby. You walked along the beach without panicking. I’m proud of you.”

  Caitie’s smile shone from her face. “I’m proud of you, too.”

  Harper’s heart clenched. This was what she wanted. A relationship full of honesty and vulnerability. And it hurt to know she might not be able to have that with James.

  “Come on,” Caitie said, releasing Breck and taking Harper’s hand again. “I think that’s enough therapy for both of us. Let’s go grab a couple blueberry muffins.”

  * * *

  The arrivals terminal was full of people when James walked into the airport, his car keys shoved in his jeans pocket, his phone curled in his hand. His stomach felt tight, as though he’d done too many sit-ups in the gym.

  He really didn’t want to be here. It wasn’t that he disliked Sara’s family. He’d always gotten along well with them whenever they’d visited. But after losing his wife and son, the relationship was another painful reminder, one that made him want to turn on his heels and walk out of the airport as fast as his legs would move.

  But of course he didn’t. Instead, he stood at the barrier waiting for an airplane-load of people to spill out into the main terminal. He knew from the monitors that hung above the doors that the flight from Phoenix had arrived twenty minutes earlier. Since they were only here for the day, her family wouldn’t be bringing luggage with them. They should be out any minute, and the thought of it turned his stomach once again.

  Any other Saturday and he’d be either checking in with his patients at the hospital, or helping Harper with her work. He’d taken to delivering her dresses to local boutiques to save her the trouble, and the carrying. Right now she was trying to get her apartment ready, and he could be helping her to paint the nursery, or building the crib that her friends had bought her off the registry she and James had spent a night agonizing over.

  He let out a mouthful of air, thinking of their last conversation. His middle-of-the-night offer for her to move in. The confused expression on her face when he’d made it.

  He still hadn’t figured out how to make it better. But he knew he wanted to. After talking to Lucas he knew for certain that he wanted Harper and their baby in his life. Wanted to take care of them, protect them, and show them how much he cared.

  But there was still a gap between them, and he had no idea how to cross it.

  The doors opened and a group of people walked out, their voices loud as they chatted together. James swallowed. If he could just get through today, then he’d figure out what to do about his relationship with Harper tomorrow.

  It had to be redeemable. Didn’t it?

  “James?” a voice called out. Then he saw Alice pushing her mom in a wheelchair, her father shuffling along beside her. She lifted a hand in greeting and he waved back, his teeth pressing together so hard it made the corner of his jaw twitch. Her lips lifted in a half-smile, the same way Sara’s used to whenever he told her a lame joke. It was like a warm up for the full thing, and he found himself wanting to look away.

  “Hey,” he said when they reached him. He kissed Alice’s cheek and shook her dad’s hand, then leaned down to hug her mom. “How was your flight?”

  “It was good. They gave us priority boarding which was a good help with Mom. And extra legroom for Dad.” Alice smiled. “Thank you so much for meeting us.”

  Up close he could see how much Sara’s parents had aged, even in the year since he’d seen them last. He knew from Alice that her mom’s weak hips meant she had to spend most of her time in a wheelchair, and that her dad had a heart scare a few months ago.

  But he wasn’t prepared to see how it had affected them. A few years ago they’d been active, their faces lit with joy as they’d held Jacob in their arms for the first time. In the three years since his death, they seemed to have aged two decades, and it cut him to the core.

  “I thought we could grab some coffee and head over to the cemetery,” James said, taking the wheelchair from Alice and steering it toward the exit. “Then maybe head back to my place before our reservation at Delmonico’s. Give you all a chance to rest.”

  From the looks of Alice’s parents, they were going to need it.

  “That sounds perfect.” Alice smiled at him. “We need to be back here at eight for our flight home.”

  “That’s fine. I can bring you back right from the restaurant.”

  “We appreciate that so much.” Alice put her hand over his as he pushed the wheelchair. “Thank you for all you’ve done.”

  He nodded, coming to a stop in front of the oversized glass doors, waiting for them to swing open. When they did, he pushed the wheelchair through, his eyes blinking as they adjusted to the bright California light.

  One day. That was all this was. And if he had to spend it with his chest hurting and his teeth grinding together then he’d do that for Sara and Jacob.

  And tomorrow he’d sort out the rest of his life.

  23

  “Lift your head up for me, sweetie,” Harper said softly. The little girl tipped her head back, and Harper took the pins out from between her lips, sliding them into the straps that needed tightening. “That’s it,” she told her, standing back to check the fit. “You look amazing.”

  “Can I see in the mirror?” Lola asked, so excited she was practically jumping up and down.

  “Sure. Come with me. You need to walk carefully because there are pins everywhere. I don’t want them to jab you.” Harper took the little girl’s hand and led her to the floor length mirror. She stood behind her, hands on her shoulders and watched her reflection as her face lit up.

  “I look like a princess,” Lola whispered.

  “Yes you do. And on the day of the fashion show you’ll feel like one, too. You’ll be wearing a little silver crown with flowers in your hair. I can’t wait to see what you look like.”

  They were in a small room in the Silver Sands Resort, fitting all the models for the fashion show in three weeks’ time. Lola’s mom was standing next to them, taking photographs of her daughter as she stared at herself in the mirror. “She’s a natural,” Harper whispered. “So grown up for a five-year-old.”

  “She’s always been like this,” Lola’s mom agreed. “From the moment she was born she seemed like a mini-adult. We’ve been so lucky with her, being able to take her places without worrying she’ll throw a tantrum or start screaming.” She nodded at Harper’s stomach. “How long until your little one arrives?”

  “Seven weeks.” Harper took a deep breath. When she said it like that, it didn’t sound long at all. She was counting down the days until the fashion show. After that, she promised herself she’d slow down. She’d already paid the first three months’ rent on her apartment, and had more saved in the bank to see her through the first few months after the baby was born. And she knew from the orders she’d received for her next season’s collection that she had more than enough work to keep her cash flowing.

  “Not long then. I had Lola at thirty-five weeks. She stopped growing so they took me in for an emergency C-section.” She smiled. �
��It was so scary at the time, but now look at her. You wouldn’t know she was premature at all.”

  “Thirty-five weeks?” Harper repeated. “That’s early.”

  “Not any more. There were babies in the NICU much smaller than her. One was born at twenty-eight weeks. He was tiny, no bigger than my hand, and yet he survived.” She smiled. “Lola looked like a giant compared to him.”

  Harper rubbed her stomach. “Well this baby isn’t going anywhere,” she said firmly. “I have too much to do before then.”

  Lola’s mom laughed. “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you.”

  “Thank you. I’ll take all the luck I can get.”

  She was still thinking about their conversation later as she pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main beach road leading to Angel Sands. The dresses she’d fitted were in the back of her car, ready to be adjusted prior to the fashion show. She glanced at the clock on her dash – she had no plans this afternoon. Maybe she’d get started on them now, then she could spend the next week concentrating on other orders.

  Her sewing machine and supplies were still in James’s basement. There was no way she wanted to risk them getting dusty, or even worse, splashed with paint, while she was decorating her apartment. When she pulled into his driveway she saw his car wasn’t there. That wasn’t unusual. He often spent Saturdays checking on his patients, even if he wasn’t on shift.

  Grabbing the key from her purse, she let herself in, carefully carrying the dresses down the stairs into the basement. Each one was covered in a protective bag and she hung them on the rack next to her sewing table, before she walked into the bathroom to make sure her hands were thoroughly clean.

  These designs were too precious to leave a smudge or stain on them now. Each one perfectly fit to the model’s body, ready to be worn on the night of the show. She tied her hair up and pulled on a pair of soft white gloves, then unzipped the first bag, carefully removing the dress from its hanger.

  The rest of her life might be a mess, but at least her business was thriving. It gave her one less thing to worry about.

  * * *

  They drove in silence back from the cemetery. It had been tough, watching Sara’s parents cry at her grave. Her mother had tried to swallow her sobs, but that almost made it worse. He understood the strangled cry of a parent who’d lost their child, after all.

  Alice had left a tiny teddy bear next to Jacob’s grave, nestling it among the other toys that had been left over the years. He’d watched, dry-eyed, as Alice had kissed his son’s headstone, then wiped her own tears away from her cheeks.

  It was only the third time they’d visited since his wife and child passed. They’d been here for the funeral, of course, but that was all a blur to James. He could barely remember the day at all. All that was left in his mind were blurred images of people surrounding the dug graves as their caskets were lowered into the ground. He knew he’d thrown in the first handful of earth, but couldn’t conjure up that memory at all.

  Most of that first year had been fuzzy. He’d gone back to work after two months, despite the protests of his parents and his boss. But it had been the best thing for him, burying himself in cases and the needs of his patients rather than wallowing in his pain alone at home.

  Seeing the rawness of Sara’s family’s pain reminded him of those days. Like a magnet, they pulled him back to the man he used to be. Widower, grieving father, the man who could barely look at himself in the mirror.

  “Whose car is that?” Alice asked as he pulled into the driveway. He looked at the red Toyota, his throat dry as he realized Harper must be here.

  “It’s a friend’s,” he said, his voice rough. “She’s been using the basement for her business. I’m guessing she’s down there now.”

  “She has a key?” Alice asked. He couldn’t tell from her tone whether it was idle conversation or something more.

  “It’s easier. I work a lot.”

  “Of course.”

  The pulse in his temple was edging on painful. He rubbed it as he climbed out and pulled the wheelchair from the trunk, setting it up and helping Sara’s mom out of the car. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and pushed her to the front door.

  As soon as they were inside he felt the pull. The need to go downstairs and see her. Hear her voice. To know life was still going on, in the form of Harper and their baby, and to be sure they were both okay.

  “I need the bathroom,” Alice’s mom said. “Can you take me, honey?”

  Alice nodded. “Sure.”

  “You remember where it is? James asked, and Alice nodded. “Okay, I’ll just go tell Harper we’re here so we don’t surprise her. Then I’ll put some coffee on, before we head to Delmonico’s.”

  His heart was pounding as he opened the basement door and walked down the stairs. He could hear the whirr of Harper’s sewing machine and the soft music coming from the stereo in the corner. Then he saw her, her hair pulled back in a ponytail, bent over the machine as she fed the fabric beneath the needle.

  “Harper?”

  The machine stopped as she lifted her foot from the pedal. Slowly she turned around, her eyes blinking as she saw him standing there. “Hey,” she said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you. I assumed you were at the hospital.”

  “Not today. I… ah… had something else to do.”

  She stood, then groaned and slid her hand beneath her bump. “I swear this little monkey is on some kind of sugar high,” she told him. “She hasn’t stopped moving all day.”

  The need to touch her pulled at him. “Can I feel?”

  “Yeah, of course.” She walked toward him, though it was becoming more of a waddle now. On her small frame her stomach looked absurdly swollen. As though she was closer to full term than only thirty-three weeks. She stopped in front of him, her expression unreadable, as he slid his hands down her abdomen, swallowing hard at the feel of her body against his palms.

  “Here,” she said softly, moving his palm beneath her bump. “Can you feel her?”

  Through the barrier of her skin he felt a thump against his hand. “Yeah,” he said. “Is that a foot?”

  “She’s head down now. So I’m thinking it’s a hand.” Her lips curled. “She’s high fiving you.”

  “Or punching me.”

  Harper laughed and the sound of it warmed him. “She had the hiccups last night. Every thirty seconds it was like an earthquake in my stomach. I couldn’t sleep.”

  “I wish I’d felt it.”

  “I do, too.”

  “James, you’re out of soap. Where do you keep it?” Alice’s voice echoed from the top of the basement stairs.

  He snatched his hands away from Harper’s stomach. She blinked at the abruptness of his movement. How the hell hadn’t he heard the basement door open? Had he left it open?

  A second later he heard her footsteps on the stairs. “James?” she called again.

  Harper’s eyes met his. Her brow dipped. “Who’s that?”

  But then Alice had reached the bottom of the stairs and was standing five feet away from them. Her expression was as confused as Harper’s. She opened her mouth and closed it again, biting down on her lip.

  But it was Harper who grabbed his attention. She let out a cry and stepped backward, clutching her hand to her chest. “Sara?” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I thought you were dead.”

  24

  Long dark hair, pulled into a low ponytail. Eyes so blue they looked almost unreal. But it was the expression on Sara’s face that made Harper’s heart start to hammer against her chest. The shock at seeing another woman in her basement, a pregnant woman at that.

  Harper took another ragged breath and stepped back again, this time her hands cradling her stomach. Her first thought was to protect her unborn child, so vulnerable in her womb. Her heart was hammering like crazy against her chest.

  “Who is she?” Sara asked, her eyes sweeping over Harper. “Why were you touching her, James?”

  Harper’s
legs started to tremble, her muscles weakening with fear. She reached out for the chair to steady herself.

  And James. Strong, sturdy James. He looked from one to the other as though he had no idea who either of them were. And for a moment all Harper could think about was an old movie she’d seen. Jane Eyre meeting the first Mrs. Rochester who’d been locked in the attic.

  The urge to laugh came over her. This was so melodramatic. Things like this didn’t happen to her. It was as though she was an observer, watching the scene play out on a flat screen. She wanted to scream at herself to leave before something bad happened.

  “I need to go,” she said, willing her legs to move herself forward. But as she passed James he grabbed her wrist.

  “Sit down,” he urged. “You look way too pale.”

  “Of course I’m pale. Your dead wife just walked into the basement.”

  “I’m not Sara.” The woman with Sara’s face shook her head. “I’m Alice. Her twin.”

  “Sara has a twin sister?” Harper looked at James. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I… I never thought.” It’s his turn to frown. “Alice and her parents live in Phoenix.”

  “And who are you?” Alice asked again, confusion marring her face.

  “I’m Harper.” She still felt disoriented. The same kind of sick feeling she used to get when she stepped off a rollercoaster. “Harper Hayes.”

  “Okay.” Alice nodded.

  Harper breathed heavily. The shock of thinking she was Sara still hadn’t quite worn off.

  “Harper’s the friend I was telling you about,” James said. “She’s been using the basement for her business.”

  Alice licked her lips, her brows pulled down as though she was trying to work something out. “You didn’t say she was pregnant.” She looked down at Harper’s stomach. “I’m completely confused here. What’s going on?”