The Child She Always Wanted. Jennifer Mikels

back to tell Velma that she’d talk with her tomorrow. The woman was gone, scurrying down the path toward the town square.

      Rachel wished she could ignore the woman’s words, but they bothered her. She waited on the porch for Kane while he parked. Loyalty to Marnie had made her want to defend him even though she didn’t know the facts.

      “Were you warned to keep your distance?” he asked, with his approach up the walk, as if he could tell they’d been talking about him. Gossiping, actually. The stubble of an evening beard toughened his looks. What appeared to be motor oil stained the right side of his navy T-shirt near its hem.

      “I told you that I’m not concerned.” As a young girl when she’d visited Marnie, she had never shied from Kane because of what others thought about him. She’d kept her distance for fear she would act like a blubbering idiot if he talked to her. Back then, sullen and distant, he’d never bothered with her. If given a choice, he’d probably do that now, too, Rachel thought.

      “You’re too nice, Rachel.” Smoky-gray eyes locked on hers while he climbed the stairs. She felt herself being baited and didn’t bite. “You’d say anything to keep from repeating some dire message about the evil Kane Riley.”

      “Are you boasting?”

      The firm line of his mouth twitched as if he was truly tempted to smile. He didn’t, and she wondered why he held himself so aloof that he wouldn’t give in to such a simple response. “Pick up the baby, and I’ll carry that in for you,” he said, gesturing toward the carriage.

      Rachel was determined to make some headway at a friendlier relationship. “Thank you for emptying the van for me,” she said to get the conversation going.

      “No problem.”

      She stayed near, waiting for him to collapse the buggy. “I’ll start dinner in a few minutes,” she said, though she wasn’t sure what they’d eat beyond soup and crackers.

      “Not for me.”

      Rachel stared at his bent head, made a face. She had to get rid of the strain between them. Even a day here with him could seem like an eternity if she didn’t. “Let’s have coffee, then.” She really did have something she needed to say. “We have to talk.”

      Bent over the carriage, he didn’t look up as he collapsed it. “About a salary?”

      Sensing he would only join her if he felt an obligation to, she nodded. “Yes, that and something else. Just give me a minute, though.” She hurried to the bedroom to change Heather’s diaper. She really hadn’t given money much thought, but this was a man, like his sister, full of pride, someone who’d insist on taking nothing from anyone. Maybe that was her real goal here. The better she understood him, the easier it would be for her to get through to him about Heather.

      Rachel stared down at the little one. Her hair was as dark as her uncle’s. “Hello, sweetheart,” she murmured while she finished diapering her. Lightly she kissed the sole of one tiny foot before slipping it back into the leg of the pink-and-white sleeper. She was so precious, so special. She’s not yours, she reminded herself. That was something she couldn’t afford to forget. Neither was the promise she’d made to Marnie to keep her baby happy and safe.

      The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted to her by the time she approached the kitchen. She’d thought she would make the coffee. She should have known a loner, a solitary man used to fulfilling his own needs, wouldn’t wait for someone else to do something.

      “Coffee’s poured,” he said, though his back was to her.

      Rachel waited for him to face her. “How did you know I was near?”

      “Lemon.” His gaze traveled from her mouth to her hair. “What is it? Your shampoo?”

      “My—” Rachel touched her hair. No man had ever noticed something like that about her. “Yes, it is,” she said with a calm she didn’t feel.

      “Nice.”

      Her legs nearly buckled from shock. Had he actually said something pleasant to her?

      He set the cup on the table, crossed to the window, stared up at the sky as if judging the weather. “I’m not rich. But I could come up with a sensible amount for a salary.”

      Somewhat recovered, Rachel listened as he offered an amount she viewed as more than generous. “That’s fine.” Aware that he’d probably resist what she had to say, she brought up her brightest smile. “But there’s something else we need to discuss.”

      When he turned back, she saw that wariness had returned to his eyes. He probably felt deluged by problems.

      Rachel knew she was going to give him another one. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea to search for Heather’s father.” To avoid the darkening of his stare, she moved to the counter and scooped formula into two of Heather’s bottles. He was silent for so long that she felt compelled to look at him.

      “That’s not the first time I got the impression you were against looking for him.” Surprising her, he moved near her, lounged against the counter. “Why do you say that?”

      “Marnie might not have wanted it.” That’s what bothered her most about his idea. She believed her friend hadn’t thought the father was best for Heather. “She told me to find you, to give Heather to you.”

      “The baby is the father’s responsibility.”

      He’s like a brick wall, Rachel decided. She fitted the nipple over the neck of the bottle. Was his resistance personal? When he’d said that, had he been thinking about his own father? According to gossip, Ian Riley had cared more about his next drink than his children. If Kane was letting the past influence him, she’d have a difficult time shaking his belief. “That may be true,” she said, hoping to reason with him. “But right now you’re the only family Heather has. And why would he be better than you?” She looked away in response to Heather’s cry. “I need to get her,” she said, already on her way to the doorway.

      “Rachel—”

      She paused and looked back at him.

      “He would be better.”

      A world of pain came through clearly with those four words. Did he really believe that? Why was he so hard on himself? In the bedroom, she lifted Heather into her arms, then rushed back to the kitchen for the bottle. His mistake was still being there. Rachel persisted. “You think a man who used Marnie and left her would be a better father for Heather?”

      A hint of challenge skimmed his voice. “You know that for sure?”

      “Well, no, but—” She cupped a hand around Heather’s bottle. “Marnie could have revealed the name of her baby’s father, but she never had, never indicated she wanted Heather anywhere except with you.” Greedily Heather sucked on the nipple. “Marnie had thought you’d be best for Heather.”

      Under his breath, he muttered something earthy. “That’s what you think. You don’t know that for sure.”

      Protectively Rachel brought Heather a little closer to her breast. Why was life so complicated for her? “You’ve never looked at her,” she said as he started to step away.

      Stilling, he half turned toward her. “What?”

      “The baby. You’ve never really looked at Heather.” Rachel removed the bottle and lowered the blanket that curtained Heather’s tiny face. Eyes squeezed tight, she pursed her lips in a sucking motion. “She’s dark-haired like Marnie.” Rachel raised her gaze. “Like you.”

      He was staring. Just staring.

      “She really looks like Marnie. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”