The Child She Always Wanted. Jennifer Mikels

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The Child She Always Wanted - Jennifer Mikels Mills & Boon Vintage Cherish

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“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. Her mother had displayed her collection of nineteenth-century Staffordshire children’s plates and mugs on it. Now it was bare. There were no frills, no knickknacks, no decorative touches. The house of a no-nonsense man, Rachel gathered.

      She placed Heather’s carrier on the floor by the kitchen table, then began opening and closing cabinet doors to locate coffee. Sparse, the cabinets contained only a few dishes and staples, enough food for one person to keep from starving. The refrigerator held eggs, beer, a few cans of soda, a bottle of good wine and cheese.

      After finding the coffee, she started the coffee brewer, then reached for the telephone on a wall near the back door. Before she’d left Texas, she’d phoned her brother and sister. They’d both insisted she call collect when she located Kane.

      Rachel stalled, waiting until the coffee finished hissing, then poured herself a cup while she prepared for her brother’s arguments. Sean had been concerned about her making the trip, about taking on the responsibility of Heather, but Rachel had assured her brother that everything was temporary. He would not be happy to hear she was staying.

      His brother’s brief businesslike greeting preceded a beep. She left a cheery message, including her new phone number on his answering machine, then punched out Gillian’s phone number. The phone rang ten times. Who knew where her footloose sister was? Still Rachel tried again five minutes later while drinking a second cup of coffee.

      “Hello,” a bright, happy voice greeted. People claimed Gillian resembled a redheaded Meg Ryan. Rachel didn’t see the physical resemblance. But both women were slim built, bubbly and had a sparkle in their eyes.

      “Hello, yourself,” Rachel said.

      “Hey, big sister. How are you? I was thinking about calling you. I have a new job, a modeling job in San Francisco.”

      “Modeling?”

      “For a hairstylist at a convention, so I’ll be leaving Los Angeles this weekend. I’ll let you know if I end up with orange or magenta hair.” She breezed on without taking a breath. “I assume you found Kane.”

      “Yes. I’ll be staying in Hubbard Bay a little longer. What about Hawaii?” Since getting her small-plane pilot’s license nearly two years ago, Gillian had been looking for the “perfect job.” It had come last week. A charter plane company needed another pilot.

      “I don’t go for another three months,” she answered. “So why are you staying?”

      Rachel explained the situation with Kane.

      “You’re living with him?”

      “He’s gone most of the day,” Rachel was quick to remind her. Don’t ask what I’m doing. It sounded insane, she knew. She was living with a man she didn’t know, for an indefinite amount of time, to protect a baby she didn’t want to get too close to. The situation was ludicrous.

      “Sean was worried you’d get attached. Did you call him?”

      “I left a message.”

      “He won’t be pleased.”

      No,

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