M.J. Rodgers - Baby By Chance

“Not a problem if you don’t mind Honey jumping on the couch with you when I leave tomorrow morning. He hates being alone when I go out on an early shoot.”

“I never object to sharing my bed with a warm male,” Ellie said smiling.

“Then, that’s settled. There’s leftover chicken casserole in the refrigerator, twenty-three of our favorite romantic comedies on tape, and Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Chip Cookie Dough ice cream in the freezer.”

Ellie laughed. “I keep getting my heart broken and you keep pulling the right medicine out of the Susan Carter doctor bag. Tell me, why am I always falling for the wrong guys?”

Susan knew Ellie didn’t really want to hear the honest answer to that question. The only time Susan had ever given her one, her candor had nearly cost her their friendship. Sometimes the most important part of being a friend was knowing when to keep your mouth shut.

“A gal can only choose from what comes swimming by,” Susan said as vaguely as she could.

“Which has to mean I’ve been fishing in a piranha pool,” Ellie said, with a sad shake of her head.

Actually, she wasn’t far off.

“At least I didn’t let go of my apartment this time,” Ellie said.

Yes, that was a good thing. Maybe Ellie was getting a little smarter. “You ready for me to heat up that casserole?”

“You can have the casserole,” Ellie said. “Just bring me the ice cream and a spoon.”

THE EARLY MORNING BREEZE was brisk and wet with mist. David hadn’t been able to feel his feet for the past half hour. But as he continued to watch Susan through his binoculars, she remained dead still, lying on her stomach within the photographer’s blind, high in the tree, her telephoto camera lens trained steadfastly on the fox hole on the other side of the clearing.

How she could lie so still he didn’t know.

They had told him up at the lodge that she’d been at the site since before dawn. She wore thick, black sweatpants, a black parka and black hiking boots. But there were no gloves on her hands and no hat to cover her ears. She had to be freezing, and her still position had to be wreaking havoc on her circulation.

“A dedicated professional,” Greg Hall, her editor, had described her, when David had called, identifying himself as a fan of the magazine. In truth, the magazine had been a favorite of David’s for some time. But to make his call credible, he had spent time the day before carefully looking through the local library’s copies of back issues.

Weaving a believable yarn when he needed to was part of a good investigator’s tools. But David soon found he had no reason to stretch the truth. The wildlife photographs packing the greatest punch had Susan’s name prominently displayed in the photo credits.

He’d discovered quite a bit more about her over the past few days from his other sources. Everything he’d learned had been unexpected.

David prided himself on being ready for anything, but since the moment he’d met this woman, she had been giving him one uncomfortable surprise after another. He prided himself on not judging his clients, but he’d sat in judgment on her and had let his unwanted reactions get in the way of his work. He prided himself on not jumping to conclusions, but he’d jumped to a conclusion about her—the wrong one.

David tried to tell himself that he’d made an honest mistake. Young widows whose husbands had been dead nearly three years didn’t normally still wear their wedding rings. But the reality was that he hadn’t acted like the professional he knew himself to be. His behavior reflected badly on him and on his family’s highly regarded firm.

He had thought about leaving a message on Susan’s answering machine at home. He had considered calling her at work. He had ultimately decided against both.

He was not a man for whom apologies came easily, but he did know that the only decent way to deliver an apology was in person. Of course, taking her case wouldn’t be appropriate, even if she still wanted to employ him—which he seriously doubted.

But his brother Richard would be available soon. And he would give her Richard’s card so she could call him.

David would see that she got the help she needed. He knew that was what he had to do to make this right.

But he had to wonder how long she could lie on that flat board, wet and chilled to the bone.

Finally, after what he figured had to be nearly three motionless hours, she started to move. He watched her progress through his binoculars. She first placed her camera in a protective case, then put the case in her backpack. Using a thick rope slung around the tree branch, she slowly lowered the backpack to the ground. Once the backpack was safely there, she began to snake backward toward the sturdy trunk of the tree.

He watched as she wrapped her body around the trunk. He was glad to see there were steel stakes in the bark for hand- and footholds. Still, he found himself tensing as she wobbled from side-to-side during her shaky descent.

She moved slowly. The circulation obviously hadn’t returned to her arms and legs after her long hours of immobility. She was a fool to be coming down before massaging her limbs. She could hurt herself—

His worst fears suddenly took shape before his eyes as her foot missed the final metal stake, her hand slipped off another and she fell to the forest floor.

He dropped the binoculars and took off at a run. The branches whipped against his arms and legs and stung his face. He paid them no heed as he hurried through the thick underbrush. He wasn’t that many yards away but the vegetation slowed his movements.

He was breathing hard when he crashed into the clearing where he’d seen her fall. She was lying on her back, her eyes were closed, her face white. He dropped to his knee beside her, probing for the artery in her neck.

His own blood pounded. He had to concentrate hard to feel her pulse. Finally, a slow rhythmic beat registered against his fingertips. Relief spread through his chest. He watched her eyelashes flutter, then open. A line of puzzlement drew her eyebrows together as she focused on his face.

“Where did you come from?” she asked.

He was happy to note the strength in her voice, but ignored her question as he ran his hands up and down her arms, checking for broken bones.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, flinching beneath his touch.

Once again he ignored her. But when he moved to grasp her right thigh, intending to check her legs, she suddenly sat up and swatted his hands away.

“Watch it, buster.”

David sat back on his heels as he inspected the color flowing into her cheeks. He held back a smile.

“You appear to be all right,” he said, managing to keep all emotion out of his voice.

She rolled onto her side and began to pull herself toward the tree she had so recently dropped from. “Why wouldn’t I be all right?”

“Just a wild guess, but maybe because you fell out of a tree?”

“I didn’t fall. I deliberately let go. It was only a couple of feet, and I knew the soft moss between the Osmanthus would provide a soft landing.”

David didn’t know what Osmanthus was, although he suspected them to be the evergreen shrubs on either side of the mound they were on.

“Why did you let go?”

“Because I wanted to.” She latched onto the tree trunk and struggled to pull herself upright. Her wobbly extremities weren’t cooperating.

“Why didn’t you wait until you had some circulation back in your arms and legs before trying to get down?” he asked.

“Why is any of this your business?”

He was getting uncomfortable watching her determined but unsuccessful attempts to get to her feet. “If you rub your legs, you’ll be able to stand a lot sooner.”