Rebecca Winters: Baby in a Million

Like a fool she’d succumbed to that moment because it had been such a long time since they’d been together, and she was still so desperately in love with him.

When morning dawned and she found herself alone in the bed, she went to his room in search of him, wanting with all her heart to believe that he’d meant what he’d said.

Oh, she found him all right. Sheila was there, of course. Ashley’s worst fears had been realized.

After a night of such incredible passion, the pain of his betrayal with his father’s widow had torn her heart to pieces. In agony, Ashley had fled from him with her bags, never dreaming he’d made her pregnant.

If he knew she was carrying his child, he might delay the divorce, escalating attorney costs. He’d insist on taking care of her. He’d be relentless. It was something she wouldn’t be able to tolerate, not when it was excruciatingly painful to be around him.

Just hearing his voice again set her heart thudding with sickening force. Well into the final stages, the pregnancy made her short-winded anyway. But to know that the man she’d loved to the exclusion of all else—despite everything she knew he’d done—was on the other end of the line, left her feeling faint and dry-mouthed.

“Hello, Cord.”

Good heavens. She’d attempted to infuse a businesslike quality in her tone, but her voice betrayed a pathetic nervousness.

“It’s nice to know you remember me,” came the silky rejoinder.

Remember you? She tried to swallow her pain. Though separation had brought physical closure to the insoluble problems of their six-year marriage, part of her had never let him go. Even if she weren’t pregnant with his child, she knew it would be impossible to get over him.

How many times had she relived the fantasy that one day the phone would ring, that it would be Cord calling her with proof that there’d never been an affair with Sheila, that it had all been a mistake... That he still loved her, Ashley, and wanted her back.

But this was no fantasy phone call. His sarcasm crushed her. Eight months of separation hadn’t changed anything. One bitter remark from him and they were back in battle mode, as if they’d never been apart.

All they managed to do was hurt each other.

Her hand tightened on the receiver. “If you’re not calling me to let me know you’ve signed the divorce papers, then I don’t know why you bothered.”

She hadn’t meant to sound so curt, but it was her only defense against the old emotions swamping her. Though he hadn’t asked for a divorce, she knew he’d wanted one so he and his father’s predatory widow—the woman who was now a voting member on the board of the McKnight Company—could be together.

To accommodate him, Ashley had filed. That was the pain she lived with day and night.

“I’m fine. Thanks for asking,” he mocked with bitter irony.

She couldn’t take much more. “I—Is there a point to this conversation? I’m very busy and it’s late.”

By now her voice held a distinct tremor. No doubt he’d heard it. She couldn’t bear for him to know how much this phone call had shaken her.

“Actually, there is.”

“If you read the papers my attorney sent your attorney, this couldn’t possibly be about money. I never wanted yours, and I’m making an adequate living.”

The quiet on the other end of the phone let her know she’d said the one thing guaranteed to anger Cord. It had infuriated him that she didn’t want alimony. She heard his sharp intake of breath. “This has nothing to do with money.”

Ashley bit her lip. Was he about to tell her he knew she was pregnant?

If Greg hadn’t confided that information to Cord, then she couldn’t imagine what this was all about unless he’d heard she was hard-pressed for money.

Only because she’d been given room and board to be a companion and do light housekeeping for Mrs. Bromwell, did she have a decent place to stay. The family of the feeble eighty-year-old woman who never left the house paid Ashley a small salary which she was hoarding for the time when she had to find another place to live and work after the baby was born.

Soon she would move into the vacant tiny one room basement apartment around the corner to get things ready for the baby.

Though it was the last thing she wanted to do, she’d probably have to sell her diamond ring to help pay for the delivery. The proceeds from the sale, plus the little money she’d saved would keep her afloat until the baby had come and she could look for another caretaking position that allowed an infant.

“I’ve a favor to ask,” came his deep-toned, vibrant voice over the wires.

Favor?

Her delicately arched brows drew together in a frown. After trampling all over her heart until he’d ground it to pieces, he wanted something more from her?

“So if I don’t grant it, you won’t sign the papers? Is that it?”

“One has nothing to do with the other. I’m waiting to hear from my attorney.”

How did he maintain such perfect control when she was on the verge of hysteria?

“I think I’m the wrong woman to ask,” she bit out at last. Her whole body was trembling. “What could you possibly want from me now?”

The question was out before she realized how angry she sounded. And how vulnerable. Damn, damn, damn.

“You’re the one who ended things by moving out on me—” his voice grated “—but that’s all past history. What I’m asking for is a little of your time.”

His calm reply enflamed her.

“Ask Sheila.”

There was another deadly quiet. “Aside from the fact that she has nothing to do with my personal life, you’re the only person who can help me. I’m calling from City Creek Hospital,” he added quietly.

As a dozen ghastly scenarios flashed through her mind, she suddenly felt sick to the pit of her stomach. “What’s wrong?” She almost strangled on the words.

“It’s not fatal,” he answered in a dry tone, obviously reading her mind with his usual accuracy. His explanation released the tight band around her chest, allowing her to breathe again. “But I’d rather discuss it with you in person.”

“No!” she cried out in fright. Since he was still in the dark about her pregnancy, she didn’t want him to find out about it yet.

Rising to her feet in a panic she said, “If this isn’t a life-and-death situation, then there’s no reason why we can’t talk on th—”

“As I was about to say,” he broke in civilly before she’d finished, “you have every right to refuse me.”

Cord had a way of baiting her which not only pushed every button, but managed to make her feel sorry for him so she ended up battling a large dose of guilt for something she hadn’t even done. Flushed because of the late stage of her pregnancy, their conversation had raised her temperature another couple of degrees.

“To be honest, I’m surprised you haven’t already hung up on me.”

She held her forehead in her head. He would never beg. It wasn’t his way. So why had he called? What was really going on with him?

“Cord—I fail to see—”

“The point?” he interrupted once more. “I suppose I should have expected that response from you. Rest assured I won’t bother you again.”

Beneath his wintry delivery, there was a bleakness in his response which haunted her long after the line had gone dead...

When Ashley went to bed a half hour later, she tossed and turned all night. The pain in her lower back, coupled with the activity in her womb would have made her restless anyway, but Cord’s phone call had disturbed her so much, she knew she wouldn’t sleep until she knew the real reason why he’d contacted her.

They were getting divorced. Their marriage was over. Soon he and Sheila could do whatever they wanted without interference. It was nothing to do with Ashley, not anymore.