“Yeah, she is,” Jeff said shortly, not sure how to react to the woman. He shot Laura a quick glance and noted her proud smile as the stranger admired Miranda.
“She has your eyes,” the woman commented, looking at him.
He frowned slightly, the sense of pride he’d experienced only moments before suddenly at war with a different emotion blossoming in his chest. An emotion that caused him to blurt out, “She’s not mine.”
The woman blinked.
Miranda bounced in his arms.
A brief, strained silence reigned before the woman then looked to Laura. “Sorry, my mistake. Your daughter’s a beauty, though. Always wanted a girl myself.” She shrugged and kept talking, as if to smooth over the tension in the air. “Instead, I got four boys.” Turning a wistful look on Miranda, she muttered, “If somebody could guarantee me one like that, I’d be willing to go again.”
“Hey, Mom!” a boy’s voice hollered.
“Coming,” the woman called back, and stood up. “Better get going,” she said. “Sorry again.” Then she turned and ran back toward her family.
Jeff watched her go with pleasure. If she hadn’t interrupted a perfectly nice afternoon, he wouldn’t now be feeling so...what? Guilty?
“Why’d you tell her Miranda wasn’t yours?” Laura asked when they were alone again.
“Because she’s not.” Even to him, his voice sounded strangled, harsh.
“Maybe not biologically,” she corrected. “But legally...”
Jeff’s features tightened, and Laura couldn’t help wondering what he was thinking. How could he hold that baby, play with her and take such obvious pride in the little things she did and still not want to claim her?
“You know,” he said through clenched teeth, “it’s real easy for you to say, ‘She’s yours—keep her.’ But I don’t see you with any kids. Why is that if you’re so nuts about children?”
Laura paled. She felt the blood drain from her cheeks and was helpless to stop it. “I’m not married,” she hedged.
“Neither am I, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“This isn’t about me,” Laura countered, knowing it was a weak argument.
“Why not?” Jeff turned the baby around, plopped her down onto his lap and looked at Laura steadily. “Why don’t we make this about you for a change?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“You don’t have any trouble telling me what I should do with my life.”
“Jeff...” Horrified, Laura felt the sting of tears fill her eyes. She dipped her head and hurriedly blinked them back.
“Come on, Laura,” he prodded, “tell me. Why is someone who is so crazy about kids still single?”
When she thought she could trust herself not to cry, she lifted her head and looked at him. Apparently, her eyes were still awash with tears, though. The expression on his face was too stricken to mean anything else. Before he could speak, she sucked in a deep breath and said simply, “I was engaged once. He died.”
“Oh, man...” Jeff sighed heavily, reached across the blanket and took one of her hands in his. Giving her a gentle squeeze, he said softly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No,” she told him. “You were right. It is easy for me to tell you to raise a child you hadn’t counted on having.” Her gaze dropped to Miranda, now happily gumming Jeff’s thumb. “But I just don’t understand how you could not want her.”
“Wanting something...or someone, is one thing. Figuring out if it’s the best thing for everyone is something else.”
Seconds rolled into minutes, and the silence between them stretched on and on. Finally, Jeff asked quietly, “Do you still love him?”
She inhaled sharply. A few weeks ago, her answer would have been a quick, decisive yes. Now, if she was to be honest with herself, it was a different story. Lord, what was happening to her? “He’ll always have a place in my heart,” she said at last.
Jeff nodded slowly. “That doesn’t answer the question.”
She met his gaze. “It’s the only answer I have.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked spasmodically as he gave her a short, sharp nod.
“Here,” he said abruptly, handing the baby over. “You take her while I go pack up the car.”
“We’re leaving?” she asked, cuddling the squirming baby close. “Already?”
“Yeah,” he told her, gathering up the picnic basket and a couple of stray napkins. “I’ve got some things I should be doing back at the base.”
“What things?” She had the distinct impression he was trying to run away. From her? To where? “I thought you had the day off.”
“Just things, all right?” he snapped, and stood up quickly. He looked at her for a long minute, then said, “Get the baby ready—I’ll be back.”
He marched down the path, like a soldier going off to war. Eyes straight ahead, he looked neither right nor left, ignoring everyone and everything around him.
What had just happened here? she wondered. Did it bother him that much to know she would always care for Bill?
“And why is he fighting you so hard?” Laura asked the baby. “Why can’t he just admit that he loves you? Is it really so hard for him?”
The baby blew a spit-bubble raspberry.
One eyebrow arched high on Laura’s forehead. “My sentiments exactly.”
That night, Jeff turned the stereo on, needing the soothing sounds of his favorite music. In deference to the baby, he kept the volume at a level just below earsplitting.
He had hardly plopped down onto the couch before Laura came out of her bedroom. That stupid nightshirt of hers looked ridiculously sexy, which told Jeff that he’d been without a woman way too long. After glaring at him for a minute, she strode to the stereo and pushed the Power button.
Silence dropped over the room like a heavy blanket.
“What are you doing?” she demanded, pushing her hair back behind her ears.
“Listening to music,” he said, getting up from the couch. “Like I used to, every damn night.”
He walked to the stereo and hit the Power switch with a stab of his index finger. Instantly, guitars roared into life.
Laura punched the same button a breath later. She stood, arms crossed, chin lifted, foot tapping solidly against the floor.
In the charged silence, Jeff stared down at her, anger and frustration pulsing through him. He’d spent the entire night in his office on base, trying to keep busy enough that he didn’t think about this frumpy, short woman who had invaded his life so thoroughly.
It hadn’t worked.
Even now, when he wanted to scream and shout and rage at her, one question kept sliding through his mind. What color underwear was she wearing tonight?
Groaning, he reached up and shoved both hands along the sides of his head, as if he could quiet the fantasies that had nagged him all night.
Damn it, if she and the baby weren’t there, everything would be fine. He wouldn’t be dreaming about ugly nightgowns and gorgeous lingerie. He wouldn’t be taking cold showers every morning and tiptoeing through the house at night.
Mrs. Butler wouldn’t be smiling at him every time he passed her in the hall.
He could have his life back. The simple, uncomplicated life that he had never truly appreciated as much as he did now that he’d lost it.
But that wasn’t going to happen, and he knew it. Even if Laura and Miranda were to disappear tonight, nothing would be the same as it had been before they’d come. Because no matter what, there were memories of the two of them. Vivid mental images that would always be with him.
He would never have true solitude again.
Gritting his teeth at the thought, he turned the music back on and grabbed Laura’s hand before she could hit the button.
“Leave it on,” he growled, his fingers tight around her small wrist
“It’ll wake the baby.”
“She’ll go back to sleep.”
“When I f
irst came here, I told you my rules,” she said, jerking her hand from his grasp, then rubbing at the skin on her wrist.
“Your rules,” he repeated with a short bark of laughter.
“That’s right,” she said. “And you agreed to them.”
“I was desperate,” he argued, unwillingly remembering that first, hideous day when he’d begged his sister for help, not knowing that he was asking for even more trouble than he already had.
“You still agreed.”
“I would have agreed to a human sacrifice that day, and you damn well know it” He looked away from her, his throat aching with the effort of forcing angry words past a tight knot of anxiety.
“Why are you so upset?”
His gaze swung back to her instantly.
She reached for the stereo again, but instead of turning it off, she only lowered the volume.
The familiar beat of an old rock song thrummed in the darkness like a heartbeat. Seconds ticked by. At last, Jeff crossed the room to the wide window and opened the blinds.
“What is it?” she asked, pitching her voice just loud enough to be heard over a rattle of drums.
He felt more than heard her walk up behind him. It was as if he could sense her position in the room. Tiny electrical currents seemed to stretch from her to him, digging at him, prodding at him.
“Jeff?” she asked, closer now.
He inhaled sharply and shook his head, staring out at the neon patchwork quilt beyond the glass. “This isn’t going to work,” he finally said.
She stopped beside him. Heat from her body reached out to him, sinking into his bones. His soul. He sensed her gaze on his face and deliberately kept from looking at her.
“What’s not going to work?” she asked, obviously not going to be put off.
A snort of laughter shot from his chest, and a hard knot of pain settled in its place.
“None of it’s working, Laura. Not the baby...” He paused and glanced briefly at her. “Not you.”
“You don’t know it won’t work. It’s only been a couple of weeks.”
God, just barely two weeks, and the world as he had known it was completely gone.
“Exactly,” he said. He heard the snarl in his voice but was helpless to stop it.
“That’s no time at all,” she argued, tugging at his upper arm, trying to turn him toward her. “You haven’t tried—”
With a low growl of frustration, Jeff turned on her. Grabbing her shoulders, he gave her a shake. There was no way out. He had to admit to the one shameful truth that he had realized only that night
“Don’t you get it?” he demanded, his voice slicing the music-filled air. “Maybe I don’t want to try.”
She yanked herself free. Anger flashed in her eyes, and he was almost relieved. It was easier to deal with anger than disgust.
“So this is how you meet responsibility? You run from it? Find someone—anyone else to raise Miranda?”
“I’m not talking about letting her be raised by wolves, for Christ’s sake.”
“Why not wolves? As long as it’s not you, what do you care who does it?”
“I want what’s best for her,” he said. “She deserves a family. People who know how to take care of kids. What to do for them.” He shook his head. “You know as well as I do that’s not me.”
She planted her palms on his chest and shoved him with all of her strength.
He didn’t budge.
Reaching up, Jeff rubbed the back of his neck viciously. “I’m thirty-five years old, Laura. I’m too old to learn this stuff.” He inhaled sharply and blew it out on a heavy sigh. “I’m too old to become an overnight father.”
Once the words were out, he felt as though he’d finally managed to shove a gigantic boulder off his chest. Maybe she would understand now, he told himself.
He should’ve known better.
“That’s just an excuse,” she snapped. “You’re looking for an easy way out.”
“Shouldn’t I be?” he asked, leveling a long look on her. A wave of guilt and shame swamped him as he reached back to the moment earlier that afternoon that had slapped him with a harsh, undeniable reality.
One that even now he was having a hard time facing.
“Sergeant Powell trusted you,” she said hotly. “He left you his child. That has to mean something to you.”
“Why?” he growled. “Because it would to you?”
Laura’s head snapped back as if he had slapped her.
Damn it. None of this was her fault. She didn’t deserve to be yelled at just because she was handy. He tilted his head back on his neck and stared briefly at the shadowy ceiling. He concentrated on pulling what was left of his self-control together. But it wasn’t easy.
Man, this was one of those times when he really wished he were a drinking man. But that was stupid. Even if he did go off and get roaring drunk, the situation he faced wouldn’t have changed by the time he sobered up.
Jeff felt her staring at him and sensed the hurt in her. He was really batting a thousand. He couldn’t seem to make the call to child welfare that would get him out of this mess. And hurting the woman who was there to help him.
Shifting to look at Laura again, he tried to explain what he meant.
“Look,” he said tightly, “I never wanted kids. It’s not that I don’t like ’em,” he added. “I like my sister’s kids fine.”
“It’s a wonder you don’t go and visit more than once a year, then,” she countered stiffly.
Thanks, Peggy, he thought. He sucked in a gulp of air, trying to ease the knot of helpless anger practically choking him. “Damn it, Laura, I decided a long time ago that I wasn’t going to have a family. I wanted a career and I figured rather than do two things halfway, I’d do one thing well.”
Her brown eyes shone with a film of tears that he hoped to God she wouldn’t let spill over.
In a quieter tone, he added, “Not everybody in the world wants kids, you know.”
Her head bobbed in an abbreviated nod.
“I have my own plans. Plans that don’t include kids.” He looked away from her, out at the night. His hands curling around the windowsill, he continued, “I didn’t know Hank had named me as guardian to Miranda.” Quietly, he added, “If I had, I would have told him not to.”
“Everybody makes plans, Jeff,” she said, her voice as soft as his had been.
“You, too?” He asked, then remembered the late fiancé.
“Of course, me too.”
“You planned to be a temporary nanny?” He didn’t want to talk about the man she had once loved—maybe still did love.
She chuckled and he felt a bit better.
“No,” she answered.
“What happened?” he asked, half turning to look at her. Damn. He didn’t want to know and yet he did. Nothing made sense anymore.
“The same thing that happened to you.” She shrugged eloquently. “Life. And when life shakes up your plans, you have to adapt. To accept.”
He stared at her thoughtfully. She may have accepted, but she hadn’t adapted.
“It’s not easy,” she said, her voice dropping a bit. “But you do it anyway.”
“I don’t know,” he answered, his grip on the windowsill relaxing a bit. “All I do know is, in the park, when that woman said Miranda looked like me—” he shook his head and forced himself to say it all “—my first instinct was to deny all claim to her. I knew that if I claimed her in that moment, then it was decided forever. There’d be no going back. I wasn’t ready to make that decision.” He pulled in another deep breath and exhaled on a rush. “What kind of father is that?”
The remainder of Laura’s anger drained away instantly. She heard pain and confusion in his tone. She knew he was ashamed of his reaction to that woman’s innocent statement and that he was trying to deal with it.
“It was completely natural,” she said softly.
He laughed shortly and shot her a sidelong look. “Natural to say, ‘No, no,
that’s not my baby.’”
“You’re not used to her yet.”
When he spoke, his words came so softly, Laura had to lean in close to hear him.
“What if I never get used to her?”
Six
Laura took a long, deep breath and laid her hand on his forearm. An instantaneous burst of heat rocketed up her own arm, settling in her chest. She tried to dismiss the sensation and concentrate.
The muscles beneath her hand flinched at her touch.
“Is it fair to Miranda,” he asked through gritted teeth, “to be raised by a man who might never be the kind of father she deserves?”
Laura felt a rush of warmth that had nothing to do with the chemistry between them well up inside her. She had thought he didn’t care. That he didn’t want to be bothered by the responsibility of Miranda.
She’d been wrong.
“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly, and he swiveled her a look.
“About what?”
This wasn’t easy, she thought, but it had to be said.
“I thought you didn’t care about the baby, but I should have known better.” She shook her head slightly. “I’ve watched you with her. You do feel something for her.”
“She’s not easy to ignore,” he said, a rueful smile on his face.
“True.” Laura steeled herself. “But mostly, I’m sorry for what I was thinking about you.”
Two blond eyebrows lifted. “An intriguing statement.”
Now it was her turn to give him a reluctant smile. “You were right. I did expect you to want the baby because I would have in your shoes.” Shaking her head slightly, she said, “It’s just that I always wanted kids of my own. I guess I was judging you by my feelings. Arrogant, I know.” Throwing both hands up in a helpless shrug, she continued. “You have every right to not want kids. Not everyone does. Besides, I know what a huge responsibility she would be for a man like you.”
The Non-Commissioned Baby Page 6
