parents learn those things by osmosis, that it’s magically downloaded into their brains during delivery?”
OK, so maybe he could cope with the physical stuff like diapers and formula and clothing sizes, but the emotional aspect scared him spitless. How could he possibly give the love and support Breanna needed when he had nothing in his own experience to use as a pattern?
“I can’t screw up her life,” he said flatly.
“Giving up already?”
Her expression was inscrutable, but Joe sensed her disapproval. And if she disapproved of him breaking his promise, he could imagine the response he’d get from his superiors—quintessential family men—as well as the guys who worked alongside him in the trenches. None of them would understand; they’d only see the situation as one where he didn’t live up to the duties that a dead woman had given him, regardless of who had fathered her child. That was a big deal to men who safeguarded people and property at all costs.
He rubbed his eyes. “Promise or not, she’d be better off with a stable couple who wants children.”
“Dee apparently wanted you to do the honors,” she reminded him.
Dammit, Dee! Why did you drag me into this? And if Breanna is mine, why didn’t you tell me? Prepare me?
But she hadn’t and now he had to deal with this mess as best as he could. If the situation simply didn’t work out, then his conscience would be appeased, but he owed it to Dee to try his best in the meantime.
Which meant he needed a crash course on parenting from someone with experience…
Half resigned and half scared out of his wits at his fate, he met her gaze. “Regardless of what Dee was thinking, I can’t take on Breanna alone.”
“Once the guys at the station hear what happened, their wives will offer more help than you can ever imagine.”
He shook his head as his answer stood before him. “Not good enough. Oh, I’m sure they’ll be happy to pitch in once in a while or when I’m on duty, but what about the rest of the time?”
“You’ll function like every other single father. You’ll look after her, take her wherever you go, play with her, and pray for nap time.”
“And what if I have a problem, like today? I need someone I can depend on, day or night.” He turned a steady gaze on her. “Someone like my partner.”
Her jaw dropped. “Me? Why me?”
“Because you’re perfect. You’re single, so I wouldn’t feel guilty calling you at all hours, and you’re a woman so you’re a natural at the nurturing stuff.” As she sputtered, he continued, “You’re also the one with the huge family, scads of nieces and nephews. You have an instinct with kids. Why, look at the miracle you performed in the last thirty minutes.”
“Yes, but—”
“I need someone to teach me what to do. With your family experience, you’re the best candidate. The only candidate.”
No, Maggie screamed inside. As sorry as she was about his tough childhood, he should rely on someone who wanted the job. Joe’s suggestion was out of the question. Simply. Out. Of. The. Question.
“No,” she said, shaking her head for emphasis. “I’m not your man, or your woman as the case may be.”
He seemed surprised by her answer. “Why not? You love children.”
“I have my reasons.”
“Oh?”
His raised eyebrow made it plain that he was waiting for an explanation. He would wait for a long time, she thought wryly. For one thing it was too painful to discuss and for another she didn’t care to admit she’d been duped by a man who’d played her as expertly as a cellist played his instrument.
“I won’t discuss them,” she said stiffly. “Rest assured, my reasons are valid.”
“And mine aren’t?”
“OK,” she conceded, “maybe we both have good excuses but—”
“I’d heard via the grapevine that you’d almost married a guy with two kids.”
“‘Almost’ is the operative word,” she quipped to hide the ache that hadn’t completely disappeared. “Your situation is different.”
“Because we aren’t sleeping together?” he asked. “If that’s what it takes…”
A tingle shot through her—a completely unwarranted tingle that started low in her belly and moved upward as a mental picture instantly developed in living color in her mind’s eye. A second later, she wiped away the image and shifted her weight to stop the electricity skittering across her nerve endings.
“Don’t be crude,” she snapped, as irritated by her response as by his offer. “I loved him and I loved…” her throat suddenly closed “…those little boys. Your circumstances don’t compare.”
“Dee’s daughter needs you as much as those two did, if not more. They had their father. She has no one except me and I’m not doing such a hot job.”
As if he needed to remind her of the little girl’s need while the infant sat on her lap and clutched Maggie’s shirt with one tiny fist. He had to state the obvious, which was guaranteed to tug at her heartstrings. “You’re not playing fair.”
“No, I’m not. If you expect me to have a hope of raising Breanna properly, I need your help.”
An image of Zach and Tyler flashed into her head. She hadn’t seen them for more than a year. Their father had decided to move back to Montana so he could leave his memories of his dead wife behind and renew his relationship with his highschool sweetheart. As soon as she’d recovered from the shock that he hadn’t reciprocated her love in spite of what she considered evidence to the contrary, she’d realized she’d simply been his stopgap measure. He’d used her to buy himself time to get over the proverbial hump of losing his wife and learning to deal with his two children. Once he had, he’d moved on.
And now Joe was asking her to put herself in the same position of being used again. Well, she couldn’t do it. She wouldn’t. She’d sworn off getting emotionally entangled with a man who had children and she wasn’t going to reverse her decision even if he had become a parent overnight.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” she said flatly, trying to ignore Breanna’s sweet baby scent or the way she leaned against her with complete trust. “As you know, my story didn’t end on a happy note.”
“His loss.”
If the truth were known, it was more hers than his because she’d invested her heart and soul into their relationship, but she wouldn’t dwell on that right now. “I won’t let myself get emotionally involved again.”
“Says the woman who does it more often than not. Dare I mention the Hilda Myers situation?”
“According to what you so kindly pointed out at the
