For a Baby. C.J. Carmichael
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she wanted to be pregnant. But not this way.
“You’re being too hard on yourself again. And underestimating the terrible power of my sexual magnetism.”
Lord, T.J. could sound so arrogant at times. But she wasn’t deceived. She knew he was trying to make her feel better.
“Look, Heather, I’m flattered you’d consider marrying me. I know we’ve had kind of a…checkered history, the two of us. But there’s got to be another solution. Some other guy you know who’d make a great husband and dad.”
Yeah, she knew someone like that, all right. Russell Matthew.
“I wouldn’t have asked you T.J. if I thought I had other options.” Oh, no. That hadn’t come out sounding very nice. “This is your baby,” she reminded him.
“You’re sure?”
“T.J.!”
“Well, since I’ve been back in town, I’ve seen you with quite a few different guys.”
“I may date occasionally, but I’m pretty discriminating about who I go to bed with.” In a low tone she added, “Present company excluded.”
T.J. started to laugh, then abruptly stopped. She supposed the cold reality of the situation was finally getting to him.
“Well, what do you say?” she pressed. “Don’t make me ask again.”
“I’m just worried you’re going to be sorry you asked the first time.” T.J. put her sandwiches back into the saddlebag. He stood, dusting grass bits from the back of his jeans. “I’ve got to be going. I have a delivery to make.”
She scrambled after him, gave him back his cap, then did her best to shake his shirt clean.
“Don’t worry about a little dirt.” He took the shirt from her hands and slipped it over his head, then replaced his sunglasses.
She couldn’t help thinking what a good-looking man he was. Dark hair, blue eyes, the kind of skin that tans instantly in the sun and always looks healthy. In terms of physical appearance, T. J. Collins had much to offer their child.
Too bad he didn’t have what really counted.
Commitment. Love. The willingness to put another’s interests above his own.
“I should have known you’d never go for this.” She picked up the saddlebag and heaved it over her shoulder. As she turned to walk away, though, he stopped her.
“Why don’t you come to my place tonight for dinner? I’ll show you something. After, you let me know if you still want me to be the daddy of your baby.”
HEATHER PEDALED BACK SLOWLY along dusty Willow Road. The heat was stifling now. She wished she’d thought to take a dip in the lake before heading home. At least her meeting with T.J. was over. She’d been dreading it since the doctor’s appointment three weeks ago when her pregnancy was officially confirmed.
She wasn’t sure how she felt about T.J.’s reaction. That he wasn’t jumping up and down at the opportunity to marry her didn’t surprise her. She knew she had a way of getting on his nerves.
Yet, she couldn’t deny that he had been the person to help her during the hardest period of her life. Though he’d be the last to admit it, he’d been kind and thoughtful to her during those lonely months when she was pregnant and afraid in Saskatoon. And he’d kept his promise not to tell. As far as she knew, Adrienne, T.J. and her parents were the only ones in town who knew that she’d had a child and given it up for adoption.
Well, Russell and Julie knew now, too. Two falls ago, when Russell had moved his family back to Chatsworth and she’d been faced with his presence every day at work, something inside her had cracked. The old pain of giving up her baby had returned, until finally she’d confessed the truth.
Russ had been shocked at first, but eventually he’d come to accept what she had done. And he’d agreed with her decision not to try to track down their child. She’d picked out the parents. The father was a pediatrician, the mother was willing to stay home full-time. They were good people. Their baby would be happy.
Then Julie had become pregnant with their second child, and Russell’s focus had shifted inward, toward his family once more. Heather had tried not to be resentful. Or to wonder what might have happened had she told Russ she was pregnant before he’d asked Julie to marry him.
Old questions. Old heartbreaks. She was sick of them. This baby inside her represented her future. She wasn’t going to live in the past anymore.
She wondered how T.J. planned to convince her he wouldn’t be a good marital risk. She doubted he could come up with anything to change her mind. He was pretty much her last option anyway.
CHAPTER FOUR
AT FIVE MINUTES TO SIX, Heather left her small bungalow and walked the short distance to the Handy Hardware on Main Street. Since Julie Matthew had come to town, the central drag of Chatsworth had undergone a quiet, but impressive, transformation. Beginning with the café owned by Donna and Jim Werner, and more recently a community project to create a mural on the side of the post office, the local business fronts had been refurbished. New signs, fresh paint, a green and white awning for Lucky’s grocery store and pretty wrought-iron benches on the sidewalks flanked with concrete urns spilling geraniums and alyssum were among the many changes.
The fresh look was attracting visitors, and also entrepreneurs. In the past six months alone, two new businesses had started. An energetic young woman from Yorkton, Leigh Eastbrook, had opened a small ice-cream and sweet shop next to the bank. And a middle-aged couple from Manitoba had converted an abandoned home on the other side of the hardware into Nook and Cranny, a store specializing in farm-home antiques.
Both new enterprises had employed Julie Matthew to help with the design of their stores. And Heather had to admit Julie had done a beautiful job for each of them, creating an ambiance that suited the nature of the individual businesses.
Heather bypassed the main door of the hardware—which had been “distressed” to appear old and full of character—and headed for the unobtrusive side door that led to the two-bedroom apartment on the top floor of the building.
T.J. had lived here ever since he’d moved back to town to look after the store for his dad. His folks had finally retired—his mother had been anxious to do some traveling in the motor home she’d convinced her husband to buy. Right now the couple were somewhere in eastern Canada. T.J. tacked their postcards on the counter next to the cash register so that the couple’s many friends and customers—including Heather’s own parents—could keep track of their progress.
Heather ran up the narrow stairs. She could hear strains of a Spanish guitar recording and smell something grilling. At the landing she found the door ajar. When she tapped on the wooden frame with her knuckles, it inched open.
The living room was empty. She passed through to the kitchen and spied chopped vegetables on the counter, an open bottle of wine, two plates, but no T.J. The sliding door to the balcony at the back of the building was open.
“T.J.?”
He stood at the barbecue, grilling chicken, red peppers and onions. He wore a pair of shorts and a white T-shirt. His feet were bare and as tanned as the rest of him.
Even though she’d known him all her life, sometimes his startling good looks caught her off guard. Now they made her wonder why she’d ever thought he might be willing to marry her. If a man like T.J. wanted to get married, he’d have his choice of women.
“I brought wine.” She held out the bottle. “But I see you have some open on the counter.”
“I do. Would you mind pouring? I don’t want these veggies to burn. The glasses are in the cupboard over the sink.”
He had real crystal, she was surprised to note. She poured the rich red wine into the large glass goblets, then went back out to