Judy Duarte - Christmas Baby

She hadn’t realized that he had some of the same concerns that she had, a thought that soared crazily like a broken kite on a snapped string.

“You could be a good actress,” he said, “but something tells me that you’re every bit the woman I thought you were when I showed up at your house in Houston, hoping a long-distance relationship might work out between us. But back then, I figured it was worth the risk of striking out if you’d rejected the idea.”

“And now?”

“With a baby in the balance, I think it’s critical for us to know the truth about each other.”

She couldn’t agree more.

After a beat, she asked, “So now what? Where do we go from here?”

She expected his gaze to travel to the bed in the center of the room. After all, that’s where they knew each other best. But instead, he focused on her, this time turning her heart inside out.

“You mentioned that your fall semester will be starting,” he said.

“Yes, in three weeks.” She’d also planned to take a class through the local YMCA on newborn and infant development in the evenings. And she hoped to start preparing a nursery.

He leaned forward, his hand still lightly pressing on hers. “Why don’t you come out to Brighton Valley while you’re still out of school? I’ll cut back on my hours at the ranch, and we can use the time to get to know each other better.”

The invitation took her aback, yet she thought long and hard over what he was proposing.

Where would she stay? Even a room at the Night Owl would get expensive after a while. She’d been trying to stretch her dollars so that her money would last until she secured a teaching position and could afford day care.

As if reading her mind, he said, “You can stay in my apartment with me. I’ll sleep on the sofa—if you’re worried about my motives.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about any of what he was suggesting, but they did need time to get to know each other. And staying with him seemed like a logical plan, at least, financially speaking.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll come to Brighton Valley for a couple of weeks. And I’ll stay with you.”

He sat back in his seat, his eyes growing bright. “I think you’ve made a good decision.”

She wasn’t so sure about that.

Staying with him could make things a lot more complicated than they were right now.

Especially since she wasn’t excited about him sleeping on the sofa when she knew how much she’d once enjoyed having him in her bed.

Two weeks later, after paying the woman who’d scrubbed his apartment from top to bottom and sending her on her way, Shane stood in the living room, surveying the results of her efforts and breathing in the scent of lemon oil and various cleaning products.

It’s not as though he was a slob, but he wanted Jillian to be comfortable while she stayed with him. Of course, he had no idea how she might feel about him living in an apartment over Caroline’s Diner.

When Shane had first come to Brighton Valley, he’d stopped for lunch at the small-town restaurant, where he’d had the best chicken and dumplings he’d ever eaten. His waitress had asked if he was new in town, and when he’d nodded, she’d told him about the vacancy upstairs. So after meeting Dan Walker and landing a job as a ranch hand that very same day, he’d realized that his luck had finally begun to turn.

Dan had also told him he could stay in the bunkhouse, but while Shane had appreciated the offer, he’d graciously declined. He preferred having a place of his own, where he could hang his hat and escape after a hard day’s labor.

And so he’d set about making his new digs feel like home, adding a few pieces of furniture now and then, as well as a flat-screen television and a state-of-the-art sound system. He might not spend very much time at home, but when he did, he wanted a few comforts.

Hopefully, Jillian would find the apartment appealing, as well. After all, she’d be living here for the next two weeks.

Shane crossed the floor to the kitchen, where the sink, countertops and appliances all sparkled. Then he opened the fridge, which he’d stocked with food and drinks after a run to the market last night. Jillian would have plenty of stuff to choose from, including fresh fruits and vegetables.

Now all he had to do was wait for her to arrive.

After closing the refrigerator, he strode to the window and peered into the street, expecting her to arrive soon—unless she’d gotten lost along the way.

He was really looking forward to seeing her again, although he felt badly about leaving Dan Walker in a lurch for the next week. But Dan was a family man and understood the situation, once Shane had explained the surprising predicament he’d found himself in. Dan had listened, then insisted that he’d be able to handle things on his own.

Shane planned to take off only the first week of Jillian’s visit. He would spend as much time with her as he could for those seven days. After that, she’d need to keep herself busy during the day. It shouldn’t be too difficult. There were stores along Main, if she felt like shopping. She could even visit Darla’s Salon. And there was a library in Wexler, which wasn’t too far away.

He still couldn’t believe that she’d gotten pregnant on their one and only night together. Yet the more he thought about it, the better he felt about it.

It didn’t seem fair, though. After his divorce, he’d sworn off women who wanted different things out of life than he did. But now he’d gotten involved with another one, a woman who’d set her sights on things outside his world.

Of course, that might change with time. He had a week or two to tempt Jillian with everything a small town like Brighton Valley had to offer, although something told him it wouldn’t be good enough for her.

As it neared five o’clock, the time she was due to arrive, Shane went downstairs to sit on the green wrought-iron bench in front of the diner.

He didn’t have to wait long. Moments later she arrived driving a silver Honda Accord. Apparently she’d gotten rid of the Mercedes, just as she’d told him.

As she climbed out of the driver’s seat, he took note of her casual clothing—jeans, a white fitted top that stretched over her baby bump and a lightweight chambray shirt.

Her hair hung to her shoulders in a loose, carefree style, reminding him of the way it had looked splayed on a pillow and the way those silky strands had felt as they’d slipped through his fingers that same night.

He was sorely tempted to greet her with a hug, but he got to his feet and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans instead. No need to come on too strong, he supposed.

“Did you have any trouble finding the place?” he asked.

“No, it was pretty easy.” She cast him a smile that seemed almost waifish and lost, then opened the rear passenger door for her suitcase.

“I’ll get that for you,” he said, stepping forward and catching an amazing whiff of her scent—something lilac, he guessed.

She thanked him, then allowed him to reach into the car. After he snatched her bag and closed the door, she hit the lock button on the key remote.

“Come on,” he said, “I’ll show you where I live.”

He led her up the narrow stairway between the diner and the drugstore.

Once they were upstairs, he opened the door, then stepped aside and let her enter first.

As she scanned the living room, he tried to see the place from her perspective. Would she be comfortable here? Would she find it too modest, too humble?

“It’s not much,” he said, “but it’s home.”

She didn’t respond, which made him wonder if she found it lacking in some way. Then she crossed the hardwood floor to the window that looked out into the street.