The Child She Always Wanted. Jennifer Mikels

cut a path through the porch. It whipped at her hair and flapped at the lightweight jacket she wore as if sensing a frail opponent. “I told you.” She hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know who that is.”

      Kane shoved the house key into the lock and opened the door for her. “Then we’ll need to find him. Any ideas about where to start?”

      She raised a hand, swiped at strands flying across her cheek. “I’d be guessing. I think he’s one of three men she dated on and off during the past two years.”

      An urge to touch the silky-looking strands crept over him. “Why didn’t she tell you who the father was?” Shifting his stance, he blocked the wind from her and the baby. “I thought friends told friends everything.”

      “Do you?”

      He could have told her he had none. He didn’t allow himself that kind of closeness with anyone anymore. “It’s going to take time to find the baby’s father.” Because he wasn’t any more father material than his own dad, he asked a logical question. “What do you expect me to do with her?”

      Worry rushed Rachel. She crossed her fingers and toes. She didn’t know what she would do if he refused. “Well—arrangements need to be made—to care for her. You could hire a nanny.”

      “Why not you?” he asked, snatching up the pink-and-blue duck bag and the suitcase.

      “Oh, no, not me.” Already she’d spent too much time with Heather. It was one thing to bring Heather to him, quite another to stay, care for her daily. She preceded him into the house. “I need to return to Texas.”

      “Married?”

      Rachel shot a look back at him. “No, I’m not but—”

      “I can’t stay home with her,” he said, not giving her time to offer reasons. “Someone needs to be here.”

      Rachel wondered what he thought she did to pay rent. “I never intended to stay. I have my job. I—”

      He moved and dropped several envelopes and a magazine on a circular maple end table. “Then you’d better have another idea. Because you can’t come here, drop all of this in my lap and take off.”

      Rachel scowled at him in vain. Head bent, he was sorting through the envelopes. What he’d said was exactly what she’d planned to do. One evening Marnie had insisted on talking about what-ifs. If something happened to her, she wanted Rachel to be her baby’s temporary guardian until she took the baby to its uncle. “Keep the baby until she’s with Kane, until you’re sure she’s where she’ll be happy,” she’d said.

      A week later Marnie was dead, and Rachel’s lightly made promise had become a vow of forever. But what if the two promises didn’t go hand in hand? “I’m sorry, but I’m not the answer to your problem.” Her voice trailed off as those gray eyes fixed on her. She didn’t know what was more disconcerting—being ignored or having those eyes on her.

      “What do you do?”

      “I’m in charge of customer investments.” His brows knit with a questioning look. “Mutual funds, IRAs, annuities,” Rachel explained.

      “So how did you get time off?”

      She’d had to. She’d promised her best friend she’d take care of her baby. “After Heather was born, I took a leave of absence because I wasn’t sure when I’d be back. And I stayed home to be with her and to make arrangements, find you. Legally she’s yours, not mine now, because I did find you.”

      “I can’t care for her by myself.” He waited a second as if giving his words time to sink in. “I can hire someone until I find the father, but that won’t happen by tomorrow.”

      “There are a lot of wonderful people in this town,” Rachel reminded him. “They’ll help—”

      “They won’t help me.”

      Rachel puzzled over that. “Why wouldn’t they?”

      For a long moment he held her gaze with an unflinching one. “If you leave, so does the baby,” he said instead of answering her.

      He couldn’t mean that. “How can you—” She heard her own anxiousness and paused, drew a deep breath.

      “You want what’s best for her, don’t you?”

      What was his point? “Of course, I do.”

      “I’m not it.”

      Her shoulders slumped. She didn’t know if that was true. But Marnie hadn’t believed that. Seeing the stubborn set of his jaw, she knew he meant what he’d said. She was torn. She needed to protect herself. She could only do that by leaving. He had no idea what he was asking of her. She cast a look at Heather asleep in the infant carrier seat. She was so innocent. Someone had to protect her, too.

      If she kept her guard up, she could help them, couldn’t she? Stop! Stop thinking about yourself. Think about the baby. The baby needs you. She remembered how hard it had been for her sister and brother when they’d lost their parents. Though she’d had some difficult times supporting and raising them, she’d done her best to hold them together. She’d known that the more love a child had, the better off the child would be. So she gave them all she could. Heather, too, needed that until Kane found Heather’s biological father or became the daddy Heather needed. “I’ll stay until you hire a nanny.”

      “Fine.”

      There was such a ring of satisfaction in his voice. “You expected me to change my mind, didn’t you?” Rachel challenged.

      “You lead with your heart.” He looked down, checked his watch, offered no more explanation. “I have to leave.”

      She assumed with the sky more blue and filled now with lighter, fluffier clouds that he had a tour or a fishing trip.

      “Here’s a key to the house.” He detached a key from a ring. “We’ll need to get another made.”

      Before she changed her mind, Rachel accepted it, but she hadn’t considered that a yes meant living with him.

      “If you need help hauling anything in, leave it, and I’ll do it when I get back.”

      She didn’t bother to ask where he was going or how long he’d be gone. With the closing of the door, she stretched for a breath, glad to be alone. He’d disturbed her more than a decade ago. And still did.

      Get over it, she told herself while scanning the room. She was here to stay for a few days. But never had she expected to live in this house again. Clasping the key, she eyed the blue Early-American-style sofa. The furniture he’d chosen was an eclectic mix of Early American, Cape Cod and thrift store specials, though the blue sofa and a chair worked together, and the seascape over the fireplace was a blend of blues that suited the room.

      Looking around, she could almost see her mother standing by the front window with its endless view of the ocean. Sounds of her brother and sister affectionately squabbling hung in the air. Near the fireplace an image came alive of her father petting the family dog, a black lab.

      She loved the house, probably because some of the most wonderful days of her life had passed here with her parents and sister and brother. They’d been a family in the true sense, sharing love and laughter.

      Family. She’d always wanted that. Other girls talked about careers, not Rachel. She’d always wanted a family of her own—husband, children. By now she’d thought that she’d be married, have that family, but so much of what she’d yearned for had passed her by. She couldn’t have regrets. There was no going back, no chance to recapture those dreams, and dwelling over what would never happen was a waste of time.

      Curious to see if the house had changed, she lifted Heather’s infant seat and went into the kitchen. She’d explore the other rooms later. Stark, the room contained a round, dark-wood table and chairs, and a nineteenth-century corner cupboard. She stared at the shelf above French doors.