Millie Criswell - No Strings Attached

“Are you going to date her?”

“Hell no! Whatever gave you that idea? Life’s too short to deal with a ball-buster like your attorney friend.” Jack’s stomach rumbled just then. “I’m starving. I missed lunch today. When are we eating? Soon, I hope.”

Rising to her feet, Samantha made her way to the kitchen, Jack following close on her heels. “In just a few minutes,” she informed him, lifting the lid on the pot and inhaling deeply. “I made chicken soup. Doesn’t it smell great?”

“Soup?” His face fell. “You’re kidding. It’s got to be eighty degrees outside. Why are we eating soup?”

Indian summer had attacked New York with the vengeance of marauding Apaches on the warpath. Heat and humidity smothered the city like an unwelcome blanket.

“Because it’s comforting and I needed to be comforted. I didn’t think you’d want puree of chocolate, which was the other choice.”

He reached for her hand. “Listen, Samantha, I know I haven’t been very supportive of your decision to get pregnant, but since you’re so bent on having a baby, why don’t you consider adopting one? It seems the perfect solution to your infertility problem.”

She stiffened and pulled back. “I’m not infertile! I’m just too poor to get any more treatments. And no, I’m not borrowing any money from you, so don’t offer again.”

“Christ! I was just trying to help. There’s no need to bite my head off.”

Samantha’s sigh was desolate. “I know. It’s just…Although adoption seems like a good idea, it doesn’t allow me to experience childbirth. I want to push my own baby out of my body and see something I created. Being a man, it’s probably difficult for you to understand how important that is to a woman.”

“But with adoption, you’d have the same result—you’d have the baby you’ve always wanted.”

“Even though I’m working and earning a living, I don’t think I’ll be considered a very good candidate for adoption. I’m not married, which will go against me. And I doubt I’d pass the scrutiny they put potential parents through. I’ve heard they’re very picky.”

“It was just a thought. Maybe you can look into it, see what’s involved.”

“I guess I could. I don’t have the kind of money or connections Rosie O’Donnell does, but if love counts for anything, my child will never go wanting.”

Seeing how unhappy she was, Jack changed the subject. “Are we still going to the farm this weekend?” he asked, and Samantha finally smiled.

“Yes, and I’m really looking forward to seeing my family. You and I could both use a little R & R. In fact, why don’t we leave on Friday, if you can get away early?”

He was pleased to see her anticipating something fun for a change. “Now that I’m the boss I can do whatever I damn well please. I’ll rent the car for Friday, and we’ll leave first thing that morning.”

“I’ll let Mom know. I’m sure she’ll want to create some high-calorie meals for her favorite house-guest.”

Jack rubbed his stomach. “Man, I love your mom’s cooking. She hardly ever makes chicken soup.”

Samantha stuck out her tongue at him, and he laughed, hoping the trip to Rhinebeck would be just what she needed to make her forget about babies, publishers and anything else that made her unhappy.

THE TWO-HOUR DRIVE to Rhinebeck seemed longer than usual to Samantha, owing to the traffic heading north out of the city—caused by fall foliage fans, she assumed—and her eagerness to see her family again. So when the weathered gray-and-white clapboard farmhouse finally came into view, she could barely contain her excitement.

“Look, Jack, it’s still standing! I always hold my breath until I see it again.”

The two-story house had been in the Brady family for generations. Samantha’s great-great-grandfather, Benjamin Brady, had built it with his own two hands, though it wasn’t nearly as grand back then as it was now. Her mother, Lilly, had insisted on adding a big gourmet kitchen and dining room large enough to accommodate a table where the extended family, including nieces, nephews and cousins could sit together.

Two massive oak trees graced the front yard, providing shade and entertainment for the younger children, who loved to climb them. Surrounding the house beyond the lawns and garden were acres of apple orchards, lovingly tended by her dad and older brother. Ross helped them out on occasion, but his heart wasn’t in the land, not like Lucas’s.

Fred Brady was fond of saying that your heart had to be engaged when tending apples because they needed as much loving attention as a woman. And if you loved your orchard as much as you did your wife, it would reward you with thousands of healthy offspring every year.

Samantha’s dad tended to wax poetic when it came to his apples.

“There’s Mom.” She pointed toward the wraparound porch where Lilly Brady was standing. “She must have heard the car.” There wasn’t much that got by her mother, which had made growing up in the Brady household tough.

“Remember the time my mom caught us smoking behind the barn? As I recall, you got spanked much harder than I did.”

Jack made a face at the memory. “And it was your dumb idea that we smoke those stupid cigarettes in the first place. But since I was a bit older, and a boy, I guess your mother figured I deserved the worst of the beating.”

Samantha grinned. “Well, at least it taught you never to smoke again.”

“I hope your parents don’t mind that I’m staying here. I’ve been worrying about it.”

Her brows drew together in confusion. “But why, for heaven’s sake? You don’t need an engraved invitation to visit my family. My mother thinks the sun rises and sets on you. She also knows how things are with your parents and doesn’t mind at all that you stay here.”

Despite her reassurance Jack didn’t look convinced. “Maybe I should get a motel,” he offered, but only halfheartedly.

“Are you serious? What’s brought this on all of a sudden?” Jack had stayed with her family many times over the years and had never voiced any concern.

“I don’t know. I guess I feel kinda funny coming here and acting like I’m one of the kids. I’m a grown man now, Samantha. Your parents shouldn’t be putting me up anymore.”

“Mom dotes on you, you know that. She’d be disappointed if you didn’t stay, Dad too. And we have plenty of room, so your argument doesn’t hold much water.”

“Yeah, but I get the feeling that’s because your parents think we’ll end up together some day.”

Knowing the truth of his words, Samantha flushed, but did her best to ignore it. “My mother’s an incorrigible matchmaker, you know that. She’s wanted you for a son-in-law since we were children making mud pies. I’m sure she’s disappointed that she has no other daughters to offer you.”

Jack grinned. “Thank God for that! I’m not sure my heart could take another Brady female.”

“Oh?”

“You’ve already shortened my lifespan by at least twenty years.”

At his words, Samantha tried hard not to feel insulted, though she did feel a twinge of disappointment. She had a lot to offer a man. Just not Jack, apparently.

Well, that was his loss, though it sure felt like hers, for some reason. She didn’t have time to dwell on it, because as soon as he set the car’s parking brake her mother came flying off the porch, arms waving and apron flying in the warm September breeze.

“About time you two got here! I expected you an hour ago.”

“Your daughter has a small bladder,” Jack informed the older woman, who smiled knowingly, brushing tendrils of faded blond hair out of her face.