Walt had begun making it a habit to be away from the house for long periods of time when Paul was there for the weekend. He stretched out his stable chores and frequently took Liberty out for long early-morning or early-evening rides. His reward for this new behavior was a decent night’s sleep.
It appeared these trips to Grants Pass during the week would continue for a while, and the kids would be back on the weekends. He looked forward to seeing them, but they also needed their space. So, after Friday night’s dinner at the house, with Tom out with Brenda, Walt left cleanup to Paul and Vanni and went for a ride.
He was moving along the river trail when an animal darted down the path toward him. It wasn’t much more than a streak of brown fur and Walt reined in Patriot. He could hear horse’s hooves and then the air was split with a loud whistle and that chocolate streak stopped on a dime. And sat. Panting.
Momentarily, a horse galloped up toward him, a pretty woman astride. She wore a cowboy hat, but even that wide brim couldn’t hide her peachy complexion, rosy cheeks, pink lips. “Good girl, Luce. Break.”
The dog got out of her sit position, at ease, and wagged at her mistress.
“Sorry,” the woman said to Walt. “I hope that wasn’t a problem for you, or for your horse.”
“We’re fine. Amazing little friend you have there.”
“Luce. She’s a bird dog, still in training. I’m Muriel. Are we neighbors?”
“Walt Booth,” he said. “I’m a little embarrassed. I’ve been meaning to bake you a cake and bring it over. Welcome you to the neighborhood.”
She laughed. “I’ll bet you were planning to have your wife do that,” she accused.
“Widowed,” he said, and he plucked his hat off his head in gentlemanly fashion. And curiously, he wondered what his hair looked like. That should have been his first clue.
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“Years ago now,” he answered, smoothing a hand over his head. “How about you? Married?”
“Several times,” she said with a laugh. “I’m trying to quit.”
“You shouldn’t have much trouble. There aren’t so many prospects in Virgin River. What use do you have for a bird dog?”
“I’ve been known to hunt. I don’t know how much of that I’ll get in this year—I’m working on that house. But Luce needs a little time on her skills and I should get her in the water before too long. Keep her up to speed. I’d like to get a litter out of her in a couple of years, after we check her hips. She’s got such a good line.”
Walt looked at her hands. They weren’t fancy-girl hands. Her manicured nails were short and she wore no rings.
“Do you hunt?” she asked him.
“I haven’t in a while, but I’m planning to get back into it. Soon.” It made her smile at him; she knew a flirt when she saw one. “I guess I thought you’d be breeding peacocks on that ranch. Or something. Not working on a house and training a bird dog.”
She tilted her head. “And you would think that because…?”
“Mel told me my new neighbor was a movie star, so I looked you up on the Internet. Lotta fancy pictures,” he said. And then he felt his cheeks grow warm.
“Well, God bless the Internet. Anything else you’d like to know?”
His first thought was he could probably find out who all those husbands had been, but maybe he’d resist. “I don’t know much about movies. Haven’t seen too many. And I don’t know anything about movie stars.”
“Retired,” she said. “I’m sanding, varnishing, hauling trash and training my bird dog. I’m going to pick up another one pretty soon now—I picked the bitch and sire a while ago and she whelped, so as soon as they’ll let him go… And I don’t cook much, don’t bake at all, but as it happens I have sugar for my coffee. In case you want to borrow a cup for that cake you’re baking me.”
“My thirty-year-old daughter has a man in her life—a good man—and they’re at the house every weekend,” he found himself explaining. “I have reasons to stay out of the house a lot. How much sugar do you keep on hand?”
She grinned at him. “Plenty.”
“I might need some as early as tomorrow evening,” he said. “That good man my daughter has is here for the weekend.”
“Is that so?” Then Muriel turned her mount, facing the other way and said, “Luce!” She gave two short whistles. The Lab bolted back where she’d come from. Muriel looked over her shoulder and said, “Bring a decent bottle of red wine then,” she said. She put her horse into an easy canter and followed her dog.
Walt sat there for a long time, till she was out of sight. “Damn,” he said aloud.
* * *
The next evening Paul and Vanessa decided to go to Jack’s for dinner, a predictable event for them. Of course they expected Walt to join them. “Nah,” he said. “I see enough of Jack during the week. Tom gets dinner at Brenda’s and I have no interest in cooking for one. I’ll pass. In fact,” he said, “I might head out to Clear River. There’s a little bar over there where I’m not so well known. I might do that.”
“You sure, Dad?” Vanni asked.
“I’m sure,” he said. “Enjoy yourselves. I’ll see you later, or in the morning.”
When they were gone he showered, applied a little aftershave and poked around in the wine rack, selected a bottle and grabbed his car keys.
When Walt pulled up to his new neighbor’s house, he wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t come off looking like some old fool, chasing a movie star. Of course, the chasing hadn’t even started—this was just a glass of wine with a neighbor. But he felt every second of his sixty-two years and although the research said she was just a few years younger, she looked many years younger than he did. And far more confident than he was.
The property was made up of a timeworn two-story house with a wide porch, a smaller vintage bunkhouse, a barn and a corral. Walt didn’t know where to look first. On instinct, he went to the house and knocked on the front door. “Right in here,” she yelled. “Come on in.”
As Walt stepped inside he was greeted first by a very excited Luce, wagging and nudging him playfully. Muriel was up on a ladder with a trowel in her hand, which she put in a pan. She wore overalls that were as splattered as the wall. “Good. Break time,” she said, wiping her hands on a rag that she had stuffed in her back pocket.
Hmm. He had showered and splashed on the cologne; she hadn’t even bothered with a comb, much less makeup. She looked real good for a woman her age. “What’s that you’re doing?” he asked.
“Spackling. After which I’ll paint and install new baseboards, and then I’m going after some crown molding.”
He looked around at the mess. The place was in full remodel mode. He lifted the bottle and pointed the label toward her as she descended the ladder. “Will this do?”
She took the bottle from him. “Nice,” she said. “Give me a minute to clean up my tools.” She grabbed her pan and trowel, disappeared into the kitchen and he heard the water run. Momentarily she was back. “Come with me. Come on, Luce.”
He followed her out of the house and across the yard to the bunkhouse. She opened the door and surprised him again. It was one whole room, but it was a big room—as a bunkhouse it could’ve held six twin-size beds. She had a bed in one corner, a settee and chair in front of it, a small table with two chairs and, along one wall a few appliances—a bar-size refrigerator, microwave, small oven, sink, a few cupboards and drawers. The bathroom, such as it was, occupied the corner—a toilet, sink and small shower—right out in the open.
But she had the room fixed up a little bit—fresh paint, bright colors of yellow, red, a little rose and pale green. The bedspread matched the love seat and chair cushions.
While he was looking around, she was digging a corkscrew out of a drawer. She handed him the bottle and the implement and went after glasses. “Nice little place,” he said, going to work on the cork. “Hope I don’t have to pee while I’m here. More to the point, I hope you don’t have to.”
Muriel laughed, then she grabbed something that leaned up against the end of her cupboard and, one-handed, glasses in the other hand, she erected a wooden TV tray between the chair and short couch. “Instant coffee table,” she said. “Please pour.”
She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a platter covered in Saran, then grabbed a big box of crackers out of a cupboard and placed it on the tray next to her platter. Sliced ham and salami, sliced cheese, olives, veggies and hummus. “Ah,” he said. “You were expecting me.”
She laughed and sat in the chair. “Walt, it’s my dinner.”
“Oh. Oh, I wouldn’t want to take your dinner….”
“I sliced up twice as much, in case you came for your cup of sugar.”
“You really don’t cook? At all? You eat like this?”
“I have a feeling this isn’t going to hold you for long,” she said, picking up a celery stick and dipping it through the hummus. “Well, you’ll be all right. You can make yourself a pot roast or something when you get home tonight.”
And he thought—if we begin to keep company, I will have to be in charge of the food.
And she thought—if we see much of each other, I’ll probably gain weight.
“From the outside, this looks like a bunkhouse or guesthouse.”
“It was. Or is. First it was an artist’s studio for the rancher’s wife,” she said, pointing up to two skylights in the ceiling. “Then a bunkhouse for hands or lumberjacks. The kitchen and bathroom facilities were an afterthought, I believe. My Realtor had the junk hauled out, then I did some painting. I’ll stay here while I work on the big house. And if you have to relieve yourself, the bathroom in the big house works just fine. The door closes and everything.” She took a small sip of wine. “Hmm,” she said, letting her eyes close briefly. Then she clinked his glass. “To new neighborhoods.”
“This isn’t exactly what I expected of a movie star. Spackling. Living in one room.”
“How interesting,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “You’re exactly what I expected of a general.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Is that so?”
“Uh-huh. Thinking anyone who isn’t carrying an M16 is a wimp and women who dress up can’t do heavy work. Walt, time for you to get with it. Movie stars are people. Most of them, anyway. And besides, I’m not a movie star now—I’m retired.”
“What’s that like, being a movie star?”
“Being a star, as you put it, is like living an imaginary life. Acting, however, is the hardest work you’ll ever find. Look at me,” she said, connecting with his eyes. “Closely, closely—yes, like that. Now look angry.” He scowled for her. “Very nice,” she said. “Now—look vulnerable.” He frowned in confusion. “Not easy, is it? Add to that, you have to memorize one hundred and twenty pages of dialogue, be on the set at 6:00 a.m. and won’t get done before 10:00 p.m., you’ll either sweat or freeze, you’ll stand at attention for so many goddamn hours your hips will lock and the man you have to kiss will have breath that would gag a maggot or the promising young actress who’s playing your daughter will be a snotty little shit who holds up the whole production and costs everyone time and money.” She leaned back and grinned at him. “It’s not easy. I swear to God.”
“Well, no wonder you retired.”
“Why’d you retire?”
“Over thirty-five years is a long time for an Army officer,” he began.
And they talked through a bottle of wine and her snacks. Walt learned a little about the life of an actress and Muriel heard about the Army and Walt’s family, including the death of his son-in-law, the new grandson and Paul. Before long the wine was gone and it was almost ten o’clock. There was no kiss good-night or anything even close, but Walt said, “If I had time on my hands, could you use help with painting and such?”
“I’d never turn down a helping hand,” she said. “But are you any good at it?”
“Passable. I admit, I hired tradesmen to get it done at my place, but only because I was still in D.C. and wanted the place ready when I retired. I don’t want to intrude in case you’re training your dog or running errands. Why don’t I call ahead?”
“That would work,” Muriel said. She went to the counter of her little makeshift kitchen and wrote down her number. “Or, you can always just come for your sugar.” She smiled at him. “Thanks for the wine. Very nice wine.”
“I have plenty of wine,” he said.
“And I have plenty of sugar.”
“So,” he said. “We’re in business.”
* * *
After a weekend in Virgin River, Vanni and Paul returned to Grants Pass. On Tuesday morning, Paul called Terri.
“Hi, Terri, it’s Paul. How are you feeling?”
“Fine, Paul. How are you?”
“Great, thanks. I’ve been out of town and—”
“Let me guess,” she said tiredly. “Virgin River again?”
“As a matter of fact. I have a couple of potential building contracts down there and I’ve been crunching some numbers to see if it’s doable.”
“Big surprise,” she said with an unhappy laugh. “Kind of a strange place to go when you have a child coming you claim to want to be involved with, don’t you think?”
“Both these jobs will be complete by the time you deliver. And it’s not far—I can get to Grants Pass when I need to. Listen, I wanted to do this in person, but there’s no point in blindsiding you—I’ll be getting married fairly soon.”
He heard a sound; he wasn’t sure if it was a snort or a laugh.
“That won’t be a problem,” Paul said. “She knows all about my situation with you. She also has a child and—”
“I know,” she said, cutting him off. “Your best friend’s baby.”
“She understands we’ll be sharing custody and—”
“I’m not sure I like that idea so much,” she said impatiently.
“Well, we have to deal with what we have,” he said. “And speaking of that, I’ve been looking at the calendar. It has to be time for that doctor’s appointment by now.”
“What appointment?” she asked.
“The one with the OB-GYN. The one I’m going to with you.”
“Oh, that. I had my appointment last Friday. Everything seems to be fine.”
He took a breath. “You know I wanted to go with you,” he said.
“Sorry—they called with an opening. And you didn’t seem to be in town,” she answered crisply.
“If I’d known there was an appointment, I would have been there.” Anger began to swell up inside him and he cautioned himself to stay cool. He didn’t want to set her off, though he wasn’t sure what more she could do to screw up his head.
“Look,” she said. “You seem to have more important things on your mind—I don’t even hear from you once a week…”
He took a breath. “Can you get away for lunch today?” he asked her.
She was quiet for a moment. “Paul—forget it, huh? You don’t have to meet me for lunch or for anything else. Clearly there’s nothing between us. You’re getting married—go have your life. I’ll be fine.”
“There’s one thing between us. According to you.”
She hung up the phone.
“Damn it!” he said, slamming down the phone.
“Uh-oh,” Vanni said, standing in the bedroom doorway with Mattie against her shoulder.
One hand braced on the desk, he hung his head. “She’s got me over a nice little barrel here,” he said, lifting his head and looking at her. “She just gave me my out.”
“I don’t think that made you real happy.”
“No. It didn’t.” He flipped through his calendar. He found the name of the doctor that he’d jotted down, then pulled out the phone book. He couldn’t find Dr. Charlene Weir listed anywhere. “I don’t know what she’s up to.”
Vanni walked toward him. “What was your out?” she asked.
“She told me to go have my life—she’d be fine.”
“Oh, my.”
“You know what kind of problem that is for me,” he said.
“You wouldn’t be happy having a child of yours floating around out there, without knowing you, without your support and protection.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t.” He dropped an arm around her shoulders, kissed Mattie’s head. “I’m sorry to put you through this.”
“Don’t worry about me, Paul. Just resolve this to your satisfaction—I’m not going anywhere.”
Two hours later he found himself in probably the most unlikely spot in Grants Pass—the office of Dr. Cameron Michaels.
Of course Cameron fit him in, probably hopeful that his visit had something to do with Vanessa. Something that could benefit the good doctor. When Paul explained himself and what he needed, Cameron couldn’t keep from laughing outright.
“I’m sure you find this hilarious,” Paul said grimly. “But the fact is, I don’t have many places to go for a little assistance.”
“I have to hand it to you, Paul. You’re not as clumsy around women as you think. For an unlucky son of a bitch, you sure land on your feet.”
“How’s that, exactly?”
“You’ve got this mess to straighten out and Vanni still wants you. Damn.”
“Stop grinning. This isn’t easy for Vanessa. But if it’s mine, I want to take care of it. I have to. If I’m going to be a father, I’m going to be a decent father.”
Cameron shook his head. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to, but you stumbled into the right place. I’d love to tell you there’s nothing I can do to help you out of this mess—but I’m a children’s doctor. And it isn’t easy to deal with the number of babies who come into this world with parents who don’t give a shit, don’t even want them. At least you do. I’ll hook you up for an ultrasound, which might give you some answers, if you can get her cooperation. You can follow through with a court order for an amniocentesis if you need one to check DNA and confirm paternity. Not for you, not even for her. For this baby she’s carrying.” He flipped through his BlackBerry. “Then you can tell her, if she needs a good pediatrician, you know one.”
* * *
Paul went from Cameron’s office to the law firm at which Terri Bradford worked. For the first time he considered the fact that she worked for an attorney. She would know he had legal rights.
Terri was clearly surprised to see him. When she looked up from her desk, her eyes were wide and her expression completely baffled. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“We have to talk. Right now. Today. Have you eaten?”
“Yes, and I don’t want to talk. You’re getting married—you’ll be far too busy to think about me. It’s time for you to walk away from this, leave me alone.” When she stood up from her desk, he noticed the tiniest rounding of her middle and he tried to judge whether it was approximately three months or if maybe she’d just gained a little weight. Her breasts were definitely larger, straining at her blouse.
“You’d better talk to me, Terri,” he said sternly. “I’m not going away and if I have to, I’ll get help. Legal help.”
She leaned over her desk, whispering, “What am I supposed to tell my boss?”
“Tell him it’s a family emergency. Because it is.”
She sighed, shook her head and went into her boss’s office. She came right back and fished her purse out of the bottom drawer of her desk. As she walked toward the door, he grabbed her elbow with a soft hand, escorting her. She was small—much shorter than Vanni. Her shoulder-length dark hair was shiny and her blue eyes large, surrounded by tons of thick lashes. There was every reason in the world to be attracted to someone like Terri. He noticed her body had changed with her pregnancy; she was fuller, rounder—she definitely hadn’t been lying about the fact she was pregnant. The thing missing was that glow a woman carrying seemed to have—but that could be explained by her lack of a partner with whom to bring this baby into the world.
They weren’t even to the parking lot before she stopped walking, turned her eyes up to his and said, “You can let this go. It’s not yours.”
“What? How do I know for sure?” he asked her.
“What the hell does it matter? I’m not holding you responsible for anything!”
“I know,” he said. “I’m holding me responsible.” He looked around. Across the street was a small park. “Come on,” he said, leading her there. There was a bench under a big tree and not too many people around. “Sit down,” he told her. “We’re going to get this straightened out once and for all.”
“I don’t know what your problem is,” she said, sitting down, shaking her head.
“Yeah, you do. I can’t be sure which lie is the truth and which truth is the lie.”
“So?”
“So, if there’s any chance you’re carrying my child, I want to be its father. Is that too crazy for you to understand?”
“Even though you want nothing to do with the mother?”
“That’s not true, either. It’s not like that. If you’re the mother of my child, that comes with respect and support. I wouldn’t ignore your needs.”
“Oh? And how does the woman you plan to marry feel about that?”
“She’d expect nothing less.”
Terri laughed. “Jesus. Aren’t you all just so goddamn decent.”
He nearly flinched. “I need to be sure. I’m not walking away from this without some confirmation. I’m not going to miss out on any time with a child that’s mine.”
“Look,” she said. “It was close enough. I didn’t have anyone and you and I—I thought we worked pretty well. I thought I could pull it off, all right? You caught me. I knew I was pregnant before that night with you. I was thinking of ending it, the pregnancy, but I didn’t want to. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’m not going to let this be one of them.”
“Can you prove this to me with an ultrasound that shows you are further along than three months?” he asked.
“Oh, Jesus,” she groaned. “I don’t have to!”
“Yeah, you’re going to have to. I’ll hire a lawyer. I’ll sue you for my paternal rights, and to get me off your back, you’ll have to have a test.”
“What kind of test?” she asked, shocked.
“Amniocentesis. DNA.”
She went a little pale. “Does that involve a needle?”
“Yeah, it sure does. Unless we can get some easier answers from an ultrasound.”
“I don’t have another doctor’s appointment for three weeks. Maybe I can convince her to do an ultra—”
“You said your doctor was Charlene Weir. Who, by the way, isn’t in the book.”
“God, you remembered that?” She laughed. “Charlene Weir is my girlfriend. I just tossed it out there. I didn’t want you going to the doctor with me.”
“We’re not waiting three weeks, Terri. I have a place to take you for an ultrasound today. Will you go? Or do I have to hire a lawyer?”
“How can you waste money on something like that?” she asked, perplexed.
“It wouldn’t be a waste. I have to know for certain.”
“Is your fiancée making you do this?”
He stood up. “Not at all.” He held out a hand to her. “Let’s do it.”
She sighed, put her hand in his and let him draw her to her feet. He drove her to the offices of Mary Jensen, M.D. They filled out a lot of paperwork, Paul put his credit card on the visit and a very kind and gentle woman doctor fired up the ultrasound. Since Dr. Jensen, a friend of Cameron’s, knew the purpose of the visit, there wasn’t much talking in the room. It took only moments for the doctor to establish that the pregnancy was closer to four months than three, perhaps a few weeks advanced of Paul’s contact with Terri.
But something happened to Paul as he watched the life inside her, moving around, kicking and squirming. For a big tough guy, things like this were his undoing. Pregnant women were beautiful to him; he hadn’t been great with women but he’d always wanted a wife, a family. Knowing that baby wasn’t his didn’t really give him the relief he expected. Had it been established that the baby was his it wouldn’t exactly have made him proud, either—he’d been trying to keep Terri safe from that complication. He was ambivalent. And he felt a deep sadness for Terri, who despite all her attempts to mislead him, was in a very difficult position. He had sad feelings for the baby, who would not have the love and protection he could offer as a father. The urge to keep the vulnerable safe, to protect the weak with his strength, was natural for Paul.
Terri said nothing at all. She walked ahead of him out of the doctor’s office and jumped in the truck. As Paul got in and started the engine, she looked into her lap, silent. There, she seemed to be saying without words. Done. Over.
He was also quiet as he drove her back to her office. When he got to the law firm’s parking lot, however, he didn’t turn in. He drove around the block and, instead, pulled into that same little park they’d visited earlier. He got out of the truck, went to her side and opened the door for her. He put out his hand. “What are you doing?” she asked. “What now?”
“Let’s talk a minute,” he said softly, gently.
“Paul,” she said, tears brimming in her eyes. “Please. Enough. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Come on,” he said, pulling her out of the truck. He dropped an affectionate arm around her shoulders and led her back to the bench, and as he did so she leaned against him and began to softly cry. “Sit down, Terri,” he invited her. “Tell me something. Does the baby have a father?”
“Obviously,” she wept, digging around in her purse for a tissue.
He pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. “I mean, a man who is standing by. Supporting you. Ready to take his share of responsibility.”
“‘Fraid not,” she said, accepting the hankie and dabbing her eyes.
He ran the back of his finger along her cheek, wiping away a tear. “Is that why you told me it was mine?”
She turned liquid eyes up to him. “Partly,” she said quietly. “There’s more to it than that….”
“Was it about money?” he asked.
She laughed without humor. “No,” she said. “It was because neither of us had anyone in our lives—at least that’s what you said. It was because of the way you are—telling me that story about how you were with your best friend’s wife when her baby came, and it tore you up but it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. It was the way I felt when I was with you.” She shrugged. “I thought you’d be a good father. A good… Never mind.”
“We weren’t together very much,” Paul said, shaking his head.
“I know. It was stupid. But I thought if you grew to love me…” She leaned against him and let the tears flow. “If you thought I was having your baby, maybe we’d be together more. And if we were together, maybe…” She wiped at her eyes. “I thought I’d… I thought we’d be safe with you. I felt a lot more for you than you did for me. But what I did… It was wrong. I’m sorry.”
He put an arm around her and held her. “Terri—you had to know I’d find out eventually…”
She shrugged and sniffed. “Maybe not. At least not until we’d had some time together. And if you got attached, if there were more children… It was a stupid risk, I really don’t know if I’d have been able to go through with it.” She looked up at him. “I’m not a dishonest person. I probably would have told you the truth before…” She took a breath. “It took me a while to accept that you just weren’t into me,” she said. “You didn’t call, you left town all the time. You were right—there wasn’t much between us. But that didn’t keep me from wishing there was.”
He put a large hand over her barely swollen middle. “And this little one’s father?”
“Not interested, either,” she said.
“Does he know?”
“I told him. He could care less. He told me I’d have to sue him to—Well, it didn’t take me long to decide I was better off.”
“Loser,” Paul muttered under his breath. “How did this happen?” he asked.
“I’ve always been bad about those pills. Missing them, forgetting. And he didn’t use anything. It’s my screwup. All mine. I’m pretty lucky a baby is all I got from him.” Her eyes were large and round. “The condom didn’t fail, Paul, and I was tested at my first appointment. I didn’t give you anything.”
He didn’t share that he already knew that. Acting on Jack’s advice, he’d been checked out. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked her.
“I’ll manage,” she said, wiping her tears away.
He lifted her chin. “Is there anything I can do to help you now?”
“You’re off the hook, Paul. You don’t have to do anything.”
“Do you still have that card I gave you? With the phone numbers?”
“Yeah. Somewhere.”
“You can find me easily. I work for a family company headquartered in Grants Pass. My family. If I’m not here, they can reach me. If you ever need anything…”
“Paul,” she said, laughing through tears. “I lied to you. You don’t have to…”
“Terri,” he said sweetly. “It’s true we’re not a couple. That we never were. But I don’t go to bed with women I don’t have any feelings for. God, I’m not that bad. Even if we weren’t in love, I thought of us as friends, at least. We had a real important connection. You were good to me. I tried to be good to you.”
“God, you’re incredible… After what I tried to do to you!”
He smiled at her. “I was wrong to call you when I got back to Grants Pass. It set up a series of events that were unfair to you. But I remember it so damn well—I was in a lot of pain. It was a bad, bad time for me. That night, I was a pretty miserable, desperate guy and you got me through a rough spot. You were kind to me. Sympathetic and sweet. Loving. At the time, I was very grateful. I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I didn’t tell you that.”
She leaned against him, the tears dry now, and he put his arms around her in comfort. She sighed. “I thought I loved you, that I could make you happy if I had a chance,” she said. “I didn’t lie about that.” She lifted her head and looked up at him. “You’re an easy man to fall for.”
He tightened his arms a bit. He knew something about love now. It filled him up inside, made him feel like the luckiest man on the planet to have Vanessa. He would do anything for her, and if she had come to him with another man’s baby and asked him to take her with that burden inside her, he wouldn’t even have to think about it.
“Is there anything you need?”
“Yeah,” Terri said with a sad little laugh. “I need to find a man like you. Then I’ll be set.”
He sat with her for a long while, his arms around her, giving what small comfort he could. He dropped a tender kiss on the top of her head. “You’ll find the right man,” he said. “And you’ll be a good mother. This will work out.”
“Paul, I’m sorry if I hurt you, if I complicated your life. It was so selfish of me….”
“We’ll get past that, no problem. Desperate times sometimes bring out desperate measures—I’m not angry. And I know a really good pediatrician, if you’re looking for one…”