Nikki Benjamin - The Baby They Both Loved

Mechanically, Kit finished feeding Nathan his soup, saying nothing though her thoughts whirled a mile a minute.

She was no longer convinced that Simon was lying to her. He’d told his side of the story with too much sincerity for her to dismiss it as a fabrication. There was also no reason for him to go to so much trouble offering excuses. No one had asked him to take responsibility for Nathan’s welfare.

Well, she hadn’t, and she wouldn’t in the future, but maybe his parents would. Only it wasn’t going to be necessary. Once the adoption was final, Nathan would be her child, legally, and she was more than capable of caring for him all on her own.

Finally Kit glanced at Simon again as she helped Nathan take another drink from his cup. He eyed her stubbornly in return, still waiting for her to respond. She wasn’t sure what to say to him. The truth Lucy had told her was so different from his truth. Maybe it warranted repeating.

“Lucy told me that you knew the baby was yours. She told me that’s why you left town. She said you didn’t want to be tied down to a wife and family. She bawled like a baby when she told me you’d gone, and she was miserable for a long time after you left.” Pausing, Kit frowned and looked away again. “It’s unlikely she was seeing someone else—highly unlikely. She was either with you or me or both of us that summer, and she was working at the diner, too. She wouldn’t have had time to fit in a secret lover, and if she had, I’m sure she would have told me. We were so close….”

“I thought we were close, too, Lucy and I, but obviously I was wrong,” Simon said. “She lied to me, Kit, and she lied to you, too. You can either admit it to yourself, or not, but that’s the one basic truth in the whole damned mess she created.”

“But why?” Kit demanded fiercely, suddenly more afraid than ever. “Why did she lie to us? She must have had some good reason.”

If Simon was right about Lucy—if she intentionally kept him from his son—then he might actually have a legitimate claim to Nathan. He had already said he wanted his son. But he couldn’t just take him away from her. She was already his legal guardian and the adoption was very near to being finalized—

“I don’t know why,” Simon admitted. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I first saw Nathan standing in his playpen. She knew I loved her and she knew I wanted her to live with me in Seattle. Hell, I must have asked her to marry me half a dozen times that summer. She’d just smile and say she’d think about it.

“Then she said the one thing she had to know was guaranteed to run me off. You were her best friend, Kit. You were the one she would have trusted most, yet she lied to you, too, didn’t she?”

“Only if I believe what you’ve told me is the truth,” Kit countered.

Gathering Nathan’s empty bowl and cup, she pushed away from the table and crossed to the sink, turning her back on Simon. He was making too much sense for her peace of mind.

“Why would I lie to you?” Simon asked relentlessly, echoing the question she’d posed to herself once already.

“So you can strut around town again without looking like a jerk,” she retorted, aware that she was grasping at straws.

Why would Simon Gilmore care what anyone in tiny Belle, Montana, thought of him—including her? He could certainly snow his own parents without a practice run, and he had a whole other life in Seattle, Washington. None of his friends in the big city need ever know about his youthful indiscretion.

“You should know me better than that after all the time we spent together, Kit,” Simon chided her gently. “I’ve made my share of mistakes and I’ve always owned up to them. But I’m not hanging my head in shame over something I didn’t do. And I did not abandon Lucy or my son.”

“I thought I knew Lucy, too, but now I’m not so sure,” Kit admitted, failing to realize until too late that she had finally sided with him, at least in an indirect way.

“That’s not exactly a vote of total confidence, but hey, I’ll take what I can get,” Simon said, his gruff tone lightening perceptively. Then as Kit took Nathan’s bottle from the warmer, he added to the little boy, “Hey, buddy, how about I get you out of that high chair?”

Clutching the baby bottle in both hands, Kit spun around to face Simon again, just as he lifted Nathan into his arms. The child went to him willingly, looking up at him with wondering eyes. His expression grave but unafraid, Nathan patted Simon’s jaw with one little hand. Simon seemed equally enchanted by his son, returning the little boy’s gaze with one full of awe.

Kit was both endeared and terrified by the sight of father and son taking their first tentative steps in the bonding process. Simon couldn’t think she’d let him take Nathan away from her on the basis of some wild, impossible-to-prove story.

“Let me have him,” she demanded.

Her voice sounding harsh and afraid to her ears as she plunked the bottle on the table, she reached for Nathan.

Obviously startled by her tone, Simon took a step back. His hold on Nathan seemed to tighten as he gazed at her in confusion. Nathan, too, stared at her, his eyes widening, his lower lip beginning to quiver.

Pain squeezed at Kit’s heart as she thought of how easily Simon could turn and walk out of the apartment with Nathan still in his arms. The way he was standing, he had a clear shot through the kitchen to the front door. She wasn’t strong enough to stop him physically. She doubted George and Bonnie together would be, either, even if she managed to alert them in time.

Tears welled in her eyes and her hands began to shake. She couldn’t lose Nathan. Not after all the other losses she’d suffered in the past six months.

“Please,” she begged, unable to hide her desperation as she held her arms out to Simon in supplication. “Please let me have him….”

S imon stared at Kit in silence for several long, confusing moments, unsure at first what had triggered the high note of panic in her voice as she reached out so greedily for Nathan. He had only been trying to lend a hand, wanting to release the fidgeting little boy from the confines of his high chair before he began to fuss.

Taking such action had seemed harmless enough, and of course he’d handled Nathan with consummate care. He had thought Kit would appreciate the help, busy as she was rinsing dishes at the sink, then fetching Nathan’s bottle from the warmer. But the longing that had built steadily inside of him as he’d sat by the table, talking to Kit, had motivated him, as well.

Focusing more and more of his attention on the child happily eating the chicken soup and saltines she fed him so patiently, Simon had noted the many physical similarities between him and his son. He had seen in Nathan, too, something of Lucy in the determined tilt of his little chin and the elegant arch of his eyebrows.

With increasing urgency Simon had wanted to feel the warm, solid weight of his son’s small body in his arms. He had needed to hold his child close, to look into his bright blue eyes with the gentle reassurance of a father promising his beloved child that he would move heaven and earth to make sure everything in his world would always be just fine.

Your daddy’s here now, little guy, and he’s going to take very good care of you.

Understanding finally dawned on Simon as Kit continued to stand in front of him, however, her eyes darkened by the shadow of inexpressible fear. She must have sensed the intensity of his determination to accept responsibility for the son he only now knew he had. And she must now think that he intended to take Nathan from her at that very moment.