Newborn Daddy. Judy Christenberry
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Davenport!”
A pale face, smaller than he remembered, lay on the pillow. Alarm registered in her eyes by the time he paused.
“How dare you?” he ripped. “I told you I never wanted children! Did you think I was lying? Did you think you’d force me into marriage this way?”
He frowned when she didn’t say a word. In fact, she’d closed her eyes.
“Emma! Did you hear me?”
The door opened. “I suspect everyone heard you, Mr. Nix,” an older nurse, one who’d been a friend of his mother’s, said. “Would you please step outside?”
“No! I want some answers!” he insisted, glaring at Emma. Then he frowned. If anything, Emma’s pale face had whitened even more. Before he could express concern, however, the nurse had taken him by the arm.
“I think you’d better leave. Our patient needs her rest.”
“Emma!” Ryan demanded.
“Please go.” Her voice was barely a whisper, not the low, musical tones that had first attracted him.
Before he could protest or question Emma again, the nurse dragged him out into the hallway.
“Ryan, whatever issues you have with Miss Davenport, save them. She’s having a difficult time and needs all her energy to get better.”
“What do you mean?” Ryan asked, staring at the nurse. He remembered how pale Emma was. How she didn’t respond. How her voice sounded sad and lifeless. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Men!” the nurse exclaimed. “She just had a baby! Now, stay out of that room, or I’ll call the doctor.”
Ryan stumbled down the hallway, confused, still angry but worried. He walked by the nursery again, on the way to Beth’s room, and he stopped to look at the child that was purportedly claimed to be his.
How could that tiny form be partly his? Even when Ryan, Jr. was small, he hadn’t been that small. Or that delicate. Beautiful. Like Emma.
He cringed. He’d hidden from his behavior seven months ago when—seven months. Horrified, he took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. She’d been pregnant when she’d suggested—when she’d asked about moving in, about making a family. She’d already been pregnant.
And he’d yelled at her. Sent her away.
His mama had raised him to be a gentleman. But he hadn’t been that day. He’d enjoyed Emma’s body. He’d even admit to enjoying Emma. She was different from Merilee. His wife had been vibrant, alive, always the center of everything.
Emma was quiet, even shy at times. He’d sensed in her the same kind of wrenching loneliness he felt. He’d thought she’d understand why he wanted nothing personal, nothing permanent. But he hadn’t told her. He hadn’t been honest…but then she hadn’t asked.
When he’d savaged her after her hesitant suggestion, it had never occurred to him that she might already be pregnant. He was ashamed of what he’d done. Had even considered apologizing, but he hadn’t wanted her to hope he’d change his mind. Better for her to put him behind her and move on.
But she couldn’t.
Because she was already pregnant.
“Damn!” he muttered.
“Ryan? That you? Are you admiring my son? Isn’t he—?” His brother-in-law, Jack Kirby, broke off. “Shoot, I’m sorry, Ryan. I was so excited I forgot—I mean, uh, are you coming in to see Beth?”
“Yeah,” Ryan agreed, his throat raw, his voice heavy. “That’s what I was coming to do.” He hurried toward Jack.
Jack led the way into Beth’s room. His sister was smiling, and Jack immediately hurried to her side, hugging and kissing her before he pointed out Ryan’s presence. “Hey, honey, look who’s here?”
“Oh, Ryan, I’m so glad you came. Did you see him? Isn’t he beautiful?” Beth asked, her face lit with happiness.
All Ryan could see was Emma’s pale face, the sadness in her eyes. He looked around Beth’s room. The rooms were identical, but Beth’s was already filled with flowers…and a loving husband.
Emma had nothing.
Acid ate at his stomach. Guilt filled him. Emma had been alone for the past seven months. He knew because Beth had gone to see her after she and Ryan had split up. Beth had wanted to tell her they could still be friends, because she’d liked Emma. But Emma had refused, telling Beth it would be too painful.
He had occasionally asked Beth, or other women in town, about Emma, in a casual way. But she was like a shadow, barely appearing, slipping away, always bundled up.
Hiding her pregnancy.
“Ryan? Is it too hard for you? You can go home if it is. I appreciate you making the effort, but I’ll understand.” Beth offered him a gentle smile, putting aside her own happiness with concern for him.
He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “No, honey, I’m okay. You have a fine son. You have a right to be proud.”
Both new parents beamed at him.
“Have you called Mom and Dad yet?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, I just talked to them. They’re packing now. Dad even offered to fly Mom in, but she insisted she had to drive with him to make sure he didn’t get lost,” Beth said with a giggle. Their parents had retired to Florida shortly after Beth’s wedding two years ago.
“When will you go home?” He figured since both babies were born the same day, Emma would go home then, too.
“Either tomorrow or Thursday. The doctor said it depends on how we’re doing. Ryan, you didn’t mind that I—we named him after you, did you?” Beth’s pretty face crinked with a frown, watching him.
He worked hard to look pleased. “No, honey, I was proud. Ryan Jackson is a fine name. Of course, old Jackson here probably wanted his name first, but I’m better than him, so…” As he’d expected, Jack protested, taking his sister’s attention away from him.
When they relaxed again, he said, “Uh, listen, I’ve got to go. Do you mind? Is there anything you need?”
“Oh, no, Jack is taking such good care of me.”
And Emma had no one.
She’d come to town almost a year ago, to be the new librarian. Because she was shy, it had taken her a little while to make friends, but everyone liked her. Ryan had discovered her by accident, while doing the shopping for Billy, his housekeeper, after he’d sprained his ankle.
The instant attraction surprised Ryan, even repulsed him, but Emma wasn’t a lady who expected attention. She offered her help when the food he’d piled up began to slip. Then she’d continued, pushing her almost-empty buggy away.
After having everyone trying to push him into some woman’s arms, any woman’s arms, Emma’s disinterest was…enticing. He found himself asking about her. Then he’d actually gone into the new library for the first-time on some ridiculous excuse.
Again she’d helped him, suggesting a book for Billy to read, when Ryan knew Billy would think he’d lost his mind. And then she’d walked away.
No interest at all.
No flirting, no pushiness, no war paint or suggestive clothes.
He’d stepped up to the counter to check the book out, and on impulse, he’d asked her to eat with him before he went home. He’d told her he hated to eat alone.
He’d struck a chord. She agreed eating alone was difficult and joined him. Her eyes, hazel, fringed with dark lashes, had brightened, her soft lips had stretched into a smile, and he’d wondered if she’d fooled him. She looked too good to be alone.
Had