C.J. Carmichael - For a Baby

“Adrienne,” she admitted, uncomfortably.

“Not your parents.”

Her gaze sank to the ground. “Not yet.”

“Don’t suppose you’ve found a prospective groom, either?”

“T.J.!” As usual, he had to push until she snapped. “Just leave me alone, okay?” Out of all the single men in Chatsworth—and there were a few, if not many—why had she chosen him to go to bed with?

“Hey, why so touchy? Just wondering if that marriage proposal was still open. That’s all.”

“Why would you care?” The heat of embarrassment spread from her ears to her face. Trust T.J. to milk this for all it was worth.

“I’ve been thinking the situation over.” He stood formally in front of her, arms behind his back, feet splayed.

Heather froze, confused by his change in tone. Suddenly he looked, and sounded, just like the lawyer he’d been trained to be.

“Upon some reflection,” he continued, “I’d like to reconsider my reply to your offer of the other day.”

It took a few seconds for what he was saying to sink in. “T.J.? Are you serious?”

“Absolutely. I think getting married is the right thing to do. If you’ll still have me?”

HE’D DONE IT. Choked out the words he knew he had to say. After thinking about their situation for weeks, he’d accepted he didn’t really have a choice. Heather was pregnant, with his child.

So what if the marriage didn’t last more than a few years? As a married woman, Heather would retain her reputation and respectability in the small town she’d always loved. She could hold her head high when she had this baby—their baby.

As for the child, well, he or she would be legitimate under the law. If that wasn’t as important in today’s society as it had once been, T.J. knew it was still worthy of consideration.

“I want to give our child a name, Heather. And I can promise to be a faithful husband and a good provider. Beyond that—no guarantees. I think I’ve been pretty open with you about my flaws. As if you weren’t already familiar enough with them.”

When she didn’t say anything right away, he stuck on a proviso. “Of course, if you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to go through with marriage after all, I’ll understand.”

Heather’s pretty face was still deeply flushed. Obviously she hadn’t expected this about-face on his part. T.J. waited for her reply, not sure what he even wanted her to say.

At one time marriage to Heather would have seemed like the answer to his prayers. But his real life experience with marriage and fatherhood had taught him his shortcomings. Some people were better off alone. He was one of them.

Gradually the confusion in her eyes faded, and her gaze sharpened on him. A shallow frown line formed between her eyebrows as she contemplated him closely.

What did she see? T.J. didn’t kid himself. Heather was as aware as anyone of his foibles and character flaws.

“We’re talking about a real marriage, right?”

“What other kind is there?” Slowly his lips curved into a grin, as he figured out what she was really asking. “You mean will there be sex? Hell, yeah, there’ll be sex. That’s the one thing I know I can do right.”

Her flush deepened. “Oh, T.J., this is so crazy.”

He had to agree there.

“But, yes, I will marry you.”

He knew she was accepting him for the baby’s sake. Yet, for a moment he felt a warm glow of happiness. Fool, he told himself. But knowing he was didn’t change a thing. He took her small hand and squeezed it, wanting to kiss her but not sure whether such a move would be appreciated. He was just stepping in close enough to make the kiss at least an option, when a voice startled him, startled them both.

“T.J.! Imagine running into you here.” It was Adrienne, with her husband and a pack of at least five children in tow. “Want to join us for a ham and cheese sandwich?”

“OH, HONEY. THIS IS A LOT to take in at once.” Heather’s mother shook the dirt off her hoe, then set it against the shed wall. She brushed off her hands, covered in gardening gloves, then settled them on her hips and examined her daughter’s expression carefully.

“I know.” Heather picked up the basket of tomatoes at her feet. Her parents ran a three-acre, U-pick garden just off the highway that connected Chatsworth to the larger center of Yorkton. In season they had strawberries, raspberries, saskatoons, tomatoes and corn.

“Let’s go have something to drink.” Marion Sweeney led her daughter along the cobblestone path to a gazebo Heather’s father had built just last summer. A pitcher of lemonade and melting ice cubes sat on the rattan table inside. She removed her gardening gloves, then poured two glasses and handed one to Heather.

“How are you feeling, honey?” Her gaze dropped to her daughter’s middle.

“Fine. Tired, I guess. But fine other than that.” She’d come by this morning with the excuse that she wanted tomatoes, but really to tell her mother her news when her father wasn’t around. Heather loved her father, but the lines of communication with her mother were much more open.

Her story had flooded out in a rush of words. The pregnancy, the engagement, the wedding which was to happen in two weeks, everything, in one breath.

“Sit down. Put your feet up.”

Heather did sit, but she kept her sandaled feet on the ground. “Really, I’m as healthy as can be, Mom.”

Her mother had dark hair and fair skin, which she protected with a combination of sunscreen and wide-brimmed hats. She removed the pretty straw one she was wearing today and set it on the floor next to a watering can.

“The fibroids…?” she asked.

“The doctor says they’re small enough at this point they shouldn’t cause a problem.”

“Thank goodness.”

“Yes.”

“What about later?”

“I’ll probably have to have a hysterectomy just like you did.”

After a brief pause, her mother reached across the table for her hand. “A baby. This is wonderful, Heather.”

“I know.” Her parents had suffered almost as much as she had when she’d made the decision to put her first baby up for adoption. When she’d married Nick, they’d been so excited by the prospect of more babies. But then Nick had died. By now her parents had probably given up on grandchildren. Among their contemporaries they were the only ones without even one. Now, finally, there would be a new child in the family.

And a new son-in-law, too.

“About T.J….” Marion’s warm gaze slipped a few degrees right of her daughter. “I didn’t realize the two of you were dating. You said that one dinner was just between friends?”

“We’ve known each other all our lives,” Heather pointed out.

“Yes.”

Her mother frowned, probably remembering all the times Heather had come home from school steaming mad at something awful T.J. had said or done. Her mom didn’t know that during the lonely term of her pregnancy in Saskatoon, T.J. had been her only friend. That was the one time in her life when she could remember him not being totally insufferable.

“I was hoping we could have the wedding here. If that’s okay with you and Dad.” Her mother’s rosebushes, bordering the gazebo, would make a perfect backdrop for wedding photos.

“Well, of course, honey.” Marion’s forehead wrinkled with concern. “You’re not rushing into this because of the baby are you?”

“Actually I am.” Heather couldn’t see any point in being deceptive. “But isn’t it a good reason? I’m going to have his baby. I’m thirty-five and so is he. Neither of us have any other prospects in our lives.”

“That sounds so…clinical.”

“Not clinical. Logical.”