Child of Her Heart. Cheryl St.John

she glanced up and found Justin studying her solemnly.

      Justin had seen the children’s curious gazes and hadn’t thought much of it. People probably saw them and assumed they were a family. His boys were quite dark-skinned, but if an onlooker thought Meredith was his wife, then they would just quite naturally think Anna was their child together.

      He didn’t really care much what people thought, but it was apparent that Meredith did. The expression on her face and the tilt of her chin clearly showed a defensiveness that surprised him.

      She was obviously uncomfortable with the attention that her child—and probably Justin’s company—drew. He didn’t need any complications in his life, in fact had vowed not to take on any, but for some reason he had the feeling that this young woman could use a friend.

      Hell, everyone could use a friend. Even him—especially one this lovely. Though he surprised himself with the thought, he admitted he wouldn’t mind getting to know her better.

      A whole lot better.

      Three

      The boys were happily coloring and hadn’t noticed the curious looks they’d received. Obviously embarrassed, Meredith took a calming breath.

      Justin gauged her reactions.

      Meredith seemed at a loss for words, her cheeks pink, her eyes overly shiny.

      “What are you feeling?” he asked softly.

      “Embarrassed.” She glanced to the side. “Defensive.”

      “Deep down?” he asked. “What are you feeling underneath all that?”

      Tears welled in her eyes and she blinked, holding her lips in a stiff line. “Disappointed. And hurt,” she said softly.

      They’d only just met, but he knew it had been difficult to reveal those very private feelings.

      Justin nodded and studied Meredith’s delicate features, her trembling lips. “Children are just naturally curious.”

      It was difficult enough adjusting to a new baby and the changes that a child brought to one’s life, but she was apparently doing it on her own. As the mother of a half-black child, she’d no doubt already experienced her share of prejudice. She was feeling defensive with good reason. But that baby had been conceived by a black man. Hadn’t she ever gone out to dinner with the baby’s father, hadn’t she seen people’s reactions before?

      She was struggling, hurting, and he didn’t know whether it had been a good idea to subject her to his company and the stares that accompanied it. She hadn’t seemed to mind their company on the beach, but being with other people was a different matter.

      Meredith seemed tenderhearted and vulnerable, and that combination of innocence intrigued him. “I think you’re extraordinarily sensitive right now,” he said. “Possibly reading things into what’s merely simple curiosity.”

      “You’re probably right. Thanks.”

      He liked the way her smile lit up her hazel eyes. Today they’d seemed lit by the sun, but now they were dark and almost green. “Shall we enjoy ourselves?”

      She nodded, grateful for his sensible and reassuring words. When the waitress returned, Meredith ordered and Justine ordered for himself and the boys. “Would you care for wine?” he inquired.

      “Thank you, but I can’t,” she replied. “You go ahead.”

      “Just a glass for me,” he said to the waitress. “You’re nursing,” he said after she’d gone.

      She nodded, a little surprised at his frankness, but not embarrassed.

      “Wise choice. How do you manage when you go to work?”

      “I’ve taken a leave of absence from my job.”

      “That’s great. What do you do?”

      “I’m a pediatric physical therapist.”

      One side of his lips quirked in a half smile. “No wonder you’re so good with kids.”

      Her fair skin blushed prettily. “I love kids.”

      “They like you, too.”

      The waitress brought his wine and refilled Meredith’s water glass.

      “What about you?” she asked. “What do you do?”

      “I’m an attorney.” He raised a palm as though to ward off her reaction. “No lawyer jokes, now.”

      “I don’t think I know any.”

      “That’s refreshing.”

      “You hear a lot of lawyer jokes?”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “Like what? Tell me one.”

      She was serious. He chuckled. “No.”

      “Not dignified enough for you, I suppose? I’m trying to picture you in your three-piece suit.”

      “I look pretty good.”

      She laughed. “You’re one of those GQ guys, aren’t you? You have a dozen suits and a hundred color-coordinated ties and matching socks.”

      He shrugged.

      “You do. And you buy Italian shoes.”

      “What do you know about men’s shoes?”

      “I had a— Well…” She looked away. “I knew someone who liked to dress well.”

      The baby’s father? Where was he now? What kind of man left a woman pregnant and alone or with a baby to raise by herself? Maybe he hadn’t known about the baby. Maybe he’d died. Justin was certainly curious about this woman’s private life, and he had no right to be. She was just an acquaintance he’d met on the beach. “Do you think my taste in shoes says something about my character?”

      “Probably. But I wouldn’t know what it would be. I’m not a very good judge of people.”

      Justin absorbed that remark silently.

      Meredith glanced away, suddenly self-conscious about saying something a little too revealing.

      Jonah showed his dad the picture he’d colored, and the conversation turned to sports cars, of which Meredith knew nothing, so she listened to father and sons.

      Their salmon arrived with spicy slaw and mango-papaya salsa on the side, and they ate leisurely. The boys finished, pulled a miniature magnetic checkerboard from Jonah’s backpack and played the game.

      Anna squirmed in her seat and a telltale odor rose.

      Lamond wrinkled his nose. “Is that your baby?”

      “Uh-oh,” Meredith said. “Excuse us for a moment. We’ll be right back.”

      She unbuckled Anna and carried her to the women’s rest room. As she was finishing the change, the door opened and a matronly woman entered.

      She glanced at Anna and her eyebrows rose indignantly. “Where did you get that baby?”

      Meredith thought her lips moved a minute before she could find a response. “She’s mine.”

      “But you’re not her mother? Where did she come from?”

      “She came from my uterus and I most definitely am her mother.” Indignantly, Meredith stuffed the baby-wipe container in her bag, picked up Anna and closed the changing station. Those were the kind of remarks that made her suspicious of every glance she received. The kind that angered her and dented her faith in mankind.

      Outside the rest room, she paused and collected herself before making her way back to the table where she placed Anna back into her seat.

      The boys had packed their belongings and sat on the edges of their chairs.