Her Baby, His Proposal. Teresa Carpenter

taking action like a man. Brock held out his hand.

      “Congratulations. Sure I’ll be your best man. Just tell me when and where.”

      Jesse woke up feeling human again. She was hungry, which she took as a good sign. Back in the kitchen she cut up an apple. Wanting a change of scenery from the bedroom, she carried her snack to the couch and put her feet up.

      For the next hour and a half she tried to come up with a solution to her problem but still had no answers of how she could survive without working when Brock walked through the door at six.

      Just seeing him lifted her spirits. A weird experience, one she’d truly never had before. Not at home, not with Tad. But here it was with this stranger at a time in her life when she needed it most.

      Too bad it had to end so soon. No doubt he meant to take her home as soon as he got cleaned up. Not that he looked bad. He wore a beige uniform, short-sleeved with lots of bars on the arm. It gave him an aura of power and authority.

      He came into the living room when he saw her and sat on the coffee table to survey her.

      Self-conscious under his intense, blue scrutiny, she smiled shyly.

      He nodded. “You’re looking better. How do you feel?”

      “Rested.”

      “That’s good.” He hit his thighs and rose to his feet. “I’m going to fix us some dinner, then we’ll talk.”

      Talk? What did they have to talk about? She appreciated everything he’d done for her, but she wasn’t his responsibility and she couldn’t continue to allow him to take on her problems.

      With that in mind she returned to the room he’d given her, made the bed and changed into her own clothes. She sat on the bed when she finished, amazed by how weak the slightest effort made her.

      She hadn’t called Stan today because Brock had said he would and because she didn’t know what she was going to say when she finally talked to him. She knew she should consider alternatives to keeping her baby, not only for her sake but for the baby’s, as well.

      The love she already felt prevented her from exploring any other option. It may be selfish of her, but her heart demanded no other decision.

      If that’s what Brock meant to talk about, he could save his breath. She’d already made up her mind.

      He grilled steaks, tossed a salad and baked potatoes. She ate a few bites of each, not managing more as she’d eaten the apple only a short while ago. She enjoyed watching him, the flex of muscle as he cut his meat, the strong movement of his jaw as he chewed, the focused concentration with which he did both.

      He told her of his day, entertaining her with the comic antics of his crew as they got ready to ship out. She laughed, as he meant her to, but under the humor she grew saddened to hear he’d be leaving soon.

      Oh no, she caught herself before the thought went any further. She had no business having feelings regarding him one way or another.

      Hadn’t she learned anything from Tad running out on her and their child? She should be cursing all men as scum. Look at the examples in her life. Her father had been a disinterested spectator, Tad a disinterested parasite, and tomorrow Stan would probably turn out to be a disinterested employer.

      By no means prime specimens.

      At the very least, she should mark Brock down in the disinterested stranger category and move on. She sighed. Okay, the incredibly gorgeous, disinterested stranger category.

      So he’d been solicitous and gentle and attentive. So what?

      So he’d gone out of his way for her not once, but twice. So what?

      So he hadn’t washed his hands of her when he could have. So what?

      So he’d stripped her nearly bare without copping a feel. No big deal, right?

      Wrong.

      He’d been good to her when he didn’t have to be. Better than anyone in a long, long time. She may not have known him for long, but yeah, she’d miss him when he left.

      “You ready to talk?” Brock set a glass of cranberry juice on the coffee table within easy reach. He sat in the black leather La-Z-Boy adjacent to the couch.

      “There’s no reason to drag this out, Brock.” She smiled to show no hard feelings. “I’m packed and ready to go.”

      “Not so fast. You shouldn’t have to go through this pregnancy alone. Tell me more about Tad.”

      “Tad and I were best buddies since the fifth grade. My parents were undemonstrative people who should never have had a child. When he was lucky, Tad’s parents flat-out ignored him. When he wasn’t so lucky, he dodged fists and bottles. His dad had a hard time keeping a job, and his mother didn’t even try. They got a divorce so she could claim welfare. It made me sick to hear her call her benefit installment a paycheck. They were the worst kind of parasites, always acting entitled as if the world owed them.

      “I should have known Tad would turn out just like them.”

      “What about your family?” he asked.

      She shook her head, emphatic in her response before he finished his question. “I was nothing more than a duty to my parents. I felt their indifference every day I lived in their home. I won’t subject my child to the lack of emotion I grew up with.” She swept her hair behind her ear. “We’re better off on our own.”

      “You need to take it easy for the next six weeks. How are you going to manage that?”

      Dread clenched her insides. Lord, she didn’t know.

      “The rent is paid for the next three weeks.” She worked hard to keep the uncertainty out of her voice. “There must be some program to help me. I promised myself when things started getting bad, I’d never go on welfare. But my baby is more important than my pride. I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect her.”

      “Her?”

      Jesse frowned, confused by his question until she realized she’d given her baby a sex. A slip of the tongue there. But she couldn’t deny wanting to give this child everything she hadn’t had as a little girl. She may not have much in the way of creature comforts to offer, but she had overwhelming love. Which personal experience had taught her was the most precious gift a child could receive.

      “Jesse, I have a suggestion.” Brock leaned forward in the black chair. “I don’t want you to answer right away. Take tonight, think about it. Tomorrow morning you can give me your answer, but no later, because I only have a few days. Whatever you decide, I want you to know you’ll always be safe with me.”

      Dismayed, she met his gaze straight-on. Had he somehow read her negative thoughts? Looking into his clear, steady eyes, she saw his compassion, his honesty and knew she could trust him in ways she’d never been free to trust anyone before.

      “You may think me a naive, trusting fool,” she said. How could he not after she had so easily bared her entire awful history to him? “But don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. And I’ll take care of my baby, too.”

      He lifted a hand toward her hair, but pulled back before touching her. “I think you’re incredibly courageous and giving. And I don’t think you should have to take care of yourself and the baby alone. I want to help. If you marry me, you’ll have medical care and a place to stay.”

      She stared at him unblinking, truly uncomprehending for a full minute. “Marry you?”

      “It’s not as far-fetched as it sounds. The Navy provides full benefits. As my wife you’d have access to all of them. An obstetrician for you. A pediatrician for the baby. There’d be other Navy wives to help and advise you. You’d be able to take some classes, aim for a career.”

      Jesse blinked. It sounded wonderful.

      In fact, it sounded too