A Baby On The Way

by Laura Marie Altom

  He wanted to do all that. But knew damn well he couldn’t. Or would that be shouldn’t?

  Chapter Seven

  “You sure know how to make a lady feel special,” India teased Graydon while hefting her latest armful of firewood to his pile of smoking kindling.

  “Funny,” he said with a wink and grin, “but I don’t recall seeing any ladies on this part of the mountain.”

  “Beast,” she said, dumping her load to pummel his shoulder.

  “Beauty.”

  Snagging her waist, he pulled her in for a breathless kiss, yet again placing her under his spell. For the umpteenth time of the enchanted afternoon, she wondered how could she have met such an amazing guy, only to lose him.

  While he caught lunch—a brook trout—from a lake so blue it could’ve been straight off a postcard, she asked herself what she was doing here relaxing, when she should be finishing her unpacking, and ironing her newly purchased business wardrobe, and studying the packet of hotel stats Emily had given her to check over that weekend. She should be doing all that, but the only thing she seemed capable of was worrying about the ever-growing lump in her throat that worsened every time she thought of Graydon boarding his morning flight.

  How had he come to mean so much in so little time? What was it about him that made Zack seem like a boy in comparison?

  Gee, could it be that Graydon honored his commitments, whereas Zack had run—literally—an hour after hearing she carried his child?

  But playing devil’s advocate, Graydon and his wife were divorced. By his own admission, he hadn’t been a saint during the course of the relationship. Not that she was even looking for potential husband and father material, but if she were, would Graydon—or even a guy like him—top her list?

  She glanced up from the purple wildflower she’d been twirling, to find him messing with their backpacks. “What’re you doing?”

  “Nothing.” Continuing with his task, he flashed her a smile.

  When she realized that he was transferring gear from her pack to his, her heart melted a little more. “You don’t have to do that,” she said as he removed a small camp stove. He’d borrowed it from Larry to bring along for an emergency, as had been the case with most of their gear. That he was so responsible touched her. During the brief downtime she’d had during her stay, she’d read plenty about the mountains’beauty. As well as their hidden dangers. Above the tree line as they were, even in summer, weather quickly changed from sunshine to snow. Hypothermia was a force to contend with. If someone in your hiking party fell, it could take hours—days—for help to reach them. Even knowing all that, though, Mr. Safety, as she’d teasingly called Graydon, had thought of everything to ensure their day’s comfort and security. “I’m pregnant, not an invalid.”

  “I know. But you’ve got to be tired from the hike up, and after lunch, it’s a long way back down.”

  “Still…”

  He dropped the packs, hiking boots crunching the pebbled ground as he strode her way. After kissing the top of her head, he said, “What’s the problem with me wanting to pamper you?”

  “Maybe the problem is that I can take care of myself.”

  “Did I say you couldn’t?”

  “No, but—”

  He hushed her latest objection with a lingering kiss. “In case you haven’t noticed, I like you. By association, I also like that teeny boy or girl inside you. Altitude’s a funny thing. Affects everyone a little different. Please,” he said, crouching to cradle her hands in his, “as a favor to me, don’t overdo.”

  “I would’ve loved to do just that while you had me hauling all that wood.”

  “Hey, I had to get some work out of you before you conk out on me.”

  “Who said anything about—” she yawned “—conking?”

  Tossing her a thick, red blanket, he said, “I rest my case.”

  She stuck out her tongue.

  On her feet, brushing her backside before spreading the blanket on a grassy patch, she asked, “Care to join me?”

  “I would, but someone around here has to cook.”

  “Glad it’s not me,” she replied with a happy sigh, lying back to drink in the warm sun. She wouldn’t actually sleep, she promised. Just relax a bit before helping Graydon with the rest of the meal prep.

  Famous last words…

  With the sun casting longer shadows, India awoke to Graydon crooning a nonsensical tune about her waking up. Edging open one eye, she found him, as well as their surroundings, just as dreamy as when she’d drifted off. She’d always been a light sleeper. Never prone to adequately resting in new places. But something about the crisp mountain air overlaid with the delicious scent of sweet wood smoke and their lunch frying in the pan put her at ease. Maybe more to the point, Graydon put her at ease.

  How long had it been—if ever—that she’d had the luxury of letting someone else take charge? Her father had been so inept that she’d largely raised Lyndsay. Cooking meals, doing laundry and dusting had all followed homework. Her social life had been a joke. Which was probably why she’d so readily fallen for a man like Zack. Out for only one thing—his pleasure.

  How do you know Graydon’s not the same?

  Truthfully, she didn’t. Not factually. Not in the way she knew the earth rotated around the sun or that water froze at thirty-two degrees Fahrenheit. But inside…. Deep in her soul where she held her most closely guarded fears and hopes. There she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that, while it would be impossible for Graydon and her to share anything beyond this one shining day, he would never hurt her. Not intentionally. No doubt he wasn’t even aware of how sharply saying goodbye to him would cut.

  And if he did? Know that despite having been friends only a short while, she could hardly bear the thought of letting him go.

  “You’re awfully quiet over there,” he said, heaping fish onto a plate beside a salad and steaming bread. “Still sleepy?”

  “I suppose.” The statement was a half truth. Since becoming pregnant, she was always tired, it seemed. But what currently made her especially weary was yet again having to lose someone before he’d ever fully been hers. The few times in school she had made friends, her father had once again moved the family. By the time she’d reached college, she was pleasant to her classmates but never went out of her way to engage in more than surface relationships. What was the point? Especially when, inevitably, it ended in her losing. Losing friends. Confidence. Hope that her life would ever be filled with more than deliberately busy days to mask her lonely nights.

  “You don’t have to eat yet if you don’t feel like it. In fact, if you want, we could just spend the night up here. We’ve got enough gear.”

  Mmm… How tempting the offer was. “What about your flight?”

  “It’s not till ten. We’d have to hustle in the morning, but it’s doable.”

  “Uh-huh,” she said with a sigh. “What about the fact that my new boss is expecting me to arrive by nine?”

  “Emily’s a doll. We’ve been friends forever. One of the benefits of which is that I’ve got plenty of blackmail material that’ll make her gladly ignore you being tardy your first day.” He handed India her plate and a fork and napkin.

  Laughing, she asked, “Is there any bind you can’t work your way out of?”

  *

  “WOULDN’T YOU LIKE to know.” Though Graydon had kept his reply lightheartedly cryptic, he didn’t find it too great a stretch to realize that, sadly, the cold lead in his gut pretty much answered her question. He now was in a hellacious bind he had no idea how to get out of—or even if he wanted out! Considering that he was leaving in the morning, his attraction to India was an ever-growing dilemma.

  “Tell me something,” he said, dishing out his own meal, then sitting cross-legged on the blanket beside her.

  “Shoot.”

  “That night I discovered your flat tire, you told me no one had ever done something so simple as check out your car for you. How come?”


  “Circumstances.” Shrugging, she added, “You know how things go.” She fisted a pebble from alongside the blanket, then tossed it into the lake.

  The glassy surface rippled, forming dozens of rings, reminding him of the inside of a tree. How each ring told a story about the tree’s life. Only, in their case, his life was open and India’s was locked up tight.

  “Actually,” he said, taking his first bite of fish, noticing she hadn’t touched her plate, “I was pretty lucky to land such a great stepdad. You told me earlier your mom left when you and Lyndsay were little, but what’s the story with your father?”

  “It’s really long and boring. Trust me, you wouldn’t be interested.”

  “Hey—” he set his plate beside him and eased fallen hair behind her ears “—how ’bout letting me be the judge?”

  She glanced at her meal, forked a bite of fish, then rested her plate on her lap.

  “How many times have you been there for me this weekend?”

  “A few.”

  He laughed. “More like a few dozen. I’ve been a wreck. And you, a virtual stranger, have been the one helping get my head on straight when here I’m surrounded by supposed friends. Know what that makes me?”

  “What?” She finally met his gaze. Her eyes loomed huge, welling with glistening tears.

  “That makes me officially indebted. Meaning no matter what ghosts lurk in your closet, I’m obligated to sit here for however long you’d like, hearing each and every boring, horrific, tragic, embarrassing or downright shameful moment.”

  “There’s nothing shameful,” she protested. “At least nothing I’ve done.”

  Grinning, he said, “I figured as much. Just checking if you were listening.”

  More than anything, he longed to be there for her the way she’d been for him. More than a few times when he’d been stuck with his old high-school pals, he’d pondered India’s mysteries. Such as why a warm, funny, gorgeous, vibrant woman would travel halfway across the country to some town she’d never even been to, determined to set down roots. It was almost as though she was escaping something. But what?

  “You really care?” she asked, voice small.

  He nodded.

  And as she told her story, she broke his heart.

  Chapter Eight

  “I can’t thank you enough for this day,” India said well after darkness had cocooned her fairy-tale chalet and the man who was quite possibly the sweetest on earth had walked her to her back door. “The scenery was gorgeous, but…” She glanced down, glad she’d forgotten to leave on the porch light so he wouldn’t see her embarrassed expression.

  She’d told him everything.

  About her father’s drinking. About their family’s constant moves. About her at times desperate loneliness. Most of all, about how she now craved stability and friendship and the peace of mind that came from knowing she belonged, that she’d carved out a special place that was all her own in the world.

  Struggling to find adequate words, she said, “What you’ve done for me in helping me land on my feet after finding Lyndsay was gone. It’s…” Her words faded into moonlit shadows. “I can’t even explain how fond I’ve grown of you. Which I suppose is silly, really, but—”

  He silenced her with a kiss.

  “Graydon, I—”

  He did it again. And when he’d thoroughly befuddled her and prevented any cohesive thought from entering her mind, he said softly, “You’re an incredible woman. I’m not only honored that you like me, but I feel the same. Trouble is…”

  Foreheads touching, they both understood exactly what he referred to and there was no further need to speak. No matter how strongly they might have bonded, he had his son to return to. His job. She had her job. Her pregnancy. They both had hugely full lives that had nothing to do with each other. Yet somehow, in that moment, it felt as if they had everything to do with each other.

  “Know what I wish?” she whispered.

  “What?”

  “That I’d met you before Zack.” That my baby was yours.

  “Me, too. That way, seeing how I want to scoop you into my arms, carry you inside, then make proper love to you, I wouldn’t be such a jerk.”

  “Even if that’s what I want, too?”

  “Especially because of that.” After kissing her forehead, he said, “What kind of man would I be to make love to you when in less than twenty-four hours I might never be with you again?”

  Her stomach lurched. “You won’t ever be back?” She wasn’t worth even an occasional visit?

  “You know what I mean,” he said. “Besides which, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m hardly the kind of guy for you. By your own admission, you need—deserve—a traditional, white-picket-fence kind of life. You need a father for your baby. The kind of guy who’s home every day by five, helping you change diapers and, later on, work homework math problems. No matter how desperately in the moment I’m wanting to somehow be that guy for you, I can’t.”

  “Why?” Her heart had mistakenly spoken.

  “Because, angel, my track record has already proven I’m a mess at these things. Remember that little matter of my already failing at one marriage? How until recently I wasn’t even all that great a father?”

  “But you’ve changed. You said so yourself.”

  “Sure. But I’ve got a long way to go till I’m worthy of someone like you. You deserve someone who’s perfect right out of the gate. In fact, there’re a couple of seriously stand-up guys I could introduce you to before I leave town. We could meet for an early breakfast.”

  “Stop.” Fury lined India’s heart at his even suggesting such a thing. She was all the more upset with herself for clinging to him when her tight chest told her his every word was true. “You’re right. The last thing I need is another man in my life. First Zack, now you…” She bitterly laughed. “Thanks, but I’ll fly solo from here.”

  “No. Really. My friend Jonah runs a ski-rental shop. He’s as stable as they come. Goes to church every Sunday. Never touched a drop of booze in his life, but he’s not preachy about it. He’s a great guy I know you’d—”

  “Stop!” Trembling, turning from him to hide her tears, she rammed her key in the lock and hastily opened the door.

  “Honey, if you’d just give him a chance. I really believe you and Jonah would hit it off.”

  “Thanks. But, Graydon…” Flipping on the kitchen, then porch, lights, she said, “The only thing I’d like to hit right now is you.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “My suggestion must’ve come out wrong.”

  “In what sense? That you don’t want to see me with another guy or do, or—” Her back to him, India covered her face with her hands. How had this conversation gotten so out of control?

  “Hey,” he said, cupping her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what I meant. You just can’t be hurt. Hell—I don’t want to be hurt, but…”

  Exactly. And in a case like theirs, mutual hurt was inevitable.

  “You’re right,” she said, swallowing the knot in her throat. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “Do you want me to just go? Would that be best?”

  “Do you think it would?”

  A sad laugh escaped him. “News flash—I don’t have a doctorate in this sort of thing.”

  “What do you want to do?”

  “Stay.”

  She wanted that, too.

  Only, she wanted him to stay in Silver Cliff and never ever think of leaving. Yet he would. He had to get back to his son. She had to launch her new life. Except, she felt her new life had gotten off to a blindingly fun start. When Graydon left, then what? Why did her shiny penny of a future suddenly look dull?

  “What do you want?” he asked, easing his hands around her waist.

  On her tiptoes, she answered with a kiss.

  *

  “YOU CHEATED,” Graydon said, re-counting the squares on the Monopoly board India had said Lyndsay had given her for a birthday present over three ye
ars earlier. This was the first time it’d ever been used. He’d found the notion crushingly sad. As had been India’s all-too-brief call from her sister, who’d been in a rush to try surfing. “Here’s where you should be.” He landed her top hat squarely in the center of his high-rent district. “That’ll be five hundred bucks, please.”

  “I don’t have five hundred bucks.”

  “Hmm…” he teased. “You realize what that means.”

  “What?”

  “Either I win or, if you want to switch over to strip Monopoly, those earrings will have to go.”

  “Beast!” she teased right back, pitching a house at him.

  “Haven’t you already called me that once today?”

  “Yes, but in this case it bears repeating.”

  “Well?” He grinned.

  “Well what?”

  “What’s it going to be? Are we getting naked, or are we starting a new game?”

  She hid a yawn. “What time is it?”

  “Last batch of popcorn it was a little after three-thirty.”

  She sighed. “You know what we’re doing, don’t you?”

  “What?”

  “Putting off the inevitable.”

  *

  GRAYDON AWOKE to sunshine warming his bare feet and India’s wild hair itching his nose. Her living-room lights were still on, as well as the TV, which currently featured an infomercial on some not-to-be-missed kitchen gizmo. His back throbbed from the slumped position he’d apparently fallen asleep in on the sofa—with the woman he’d realized sometime between beating her at Monopoly and teaching her how to make Rice Krispie treats that he’d fallen in love with—lightly snoring on his chest.

  A glance at his watch told him he still had plenty of time to catch his flight, but she had to be at work in barely over an hour.

  Having watched as she’d carefully ironed a navy jacket and skirt, then crisp white blouse that was to be her uniform while working at the hotel, he calculated that aside from a shower and breakfast, it wouldn’t take her long to get ready. She’d even made a sack lunch, explaining that she was saving her pennies for baby clothes.