the heck would Janine care if I loved this kid or not? Look, read my lips. I don’t like babies. And I have no interest in this one or any other. So if you’ll just put him back in his crib or whatever, then you and I can get on with business. This—” he waggled the white envelope at her “—is a contract I’ve just signed with Burton Barton, the local realtor. I’ve put the house up for sale.”
“House? Which house?”
“This house.”
“This house?”
“Number Five Seaside Lane. It’s mine.”
She couldn’t have looked more stunned if he’d told her he’d planted a bomb in the basement. “It can’t be yours!”
He felt a pang of compunction when he saw the panic in her eyes. He ignored it. “I bought it before the wedding, when I knew you’d beaten me and that come hell or high water those two were going to tie the knot—”
“It wasn’t a case of beating you! It wasn’t a competition, to see who would win—I just wanted what was best for Tom and Janine—”
“All the arrangements were made through my lawyer,” he continued tersely. “I knew your brother had taken a job in Seashore and I knew they were having a hard time finding a rental place they could afford so I bought this house and made sure they learned it was available—and for a minimal rent, because I wanted my sister to live comfortably.”
“Did they know,” she asked, “that it was yours?”
“No.”
“You did that for them?” This secret, generous gesture put him in a new light. Mallory felt herself soften towards him. “That was so kind of you—”
“I did it for Janine,” he interrupted rudely. “I no longer have any need of the place. End of story.”
Her momentary softness dissipated in a flash. “I’ve signed a one-year lease,” she said in a defiant tone. “So you can’t evict me. At least, not till the year is up.”
“I can,” he said. “And I intend to. The moment the property changes hands, your lease becomes null and void.”
She seemed to shrink back from him. Then she shook her head and her upper lip curled. Unmistakably, contemptuously curled. “You’re quite something, Jordan Caine.”
He hadn’t known that tawny brown eyes could look so cold. “It’s business,” he said curtly. “And there’s no room for sentiment in business.”
“Tom was wrong about you. He believed that despite your overbearing attitude, you were a good man at heart. I’m glad he’s not here to see that you have no heart at all.” She clenched her jaw as she prepared to humble herself. “Can you at least let me keep the house for the summer, to give me time to look for someplace else?”
“No can do. It’s May already and Barton’s going to advertise Number Five as an ideal house for a bed-and-breakfast business, so it will be to a buyer’s advantage to move in immediately, before the start of the tourist season.”
“You’d throw me out in the street—with this baby?” She took in a deep breath and when she went on, her voice had a distinct tremor in it. “I gave up my job in Seattle so that I could work at home and be a good mother to Matthew. I’m on a very tight budget now. I’d never have been able to swing it if I hadn’t been able to factor in the low rent.”
“That’s not my problem. Before you got yourself pregnant, you should have looked to the future. Where’s the baby’s father? Doesn’t he contribute to his upkeep?”
She gaped at him as if he’d sprouted an extra head.
He stabbed the envelope at her. “It’s your responsibility and his. Not mine. What happened anyway? Did he dump you, or did—”
“You think—” she swallowed hard “—that this is my baby?”
He raised a cynical eyebrow. “If he isn’t,” he retorted, “then whose is he?”
“He’s Janine’s, of course!” She sounded as if she was spelling out something incredibly simple to a dim-witted child.
“You’re lying.” He glared at her. “Janine died in the train wreck.” He felt an ache in his heart, the same ache he always felt when he thought about his sister. “She was eight months pregnant, but—”
“Janine had her baby two weeks before the accident!”
He stared at her, his mind reeling.
Hugging Matthew close, she went on in a tone of utter dismay, “Didn’t she call you at the time and let you know?”
He felt the hair at his nape prickle. “You’re saying…this is really Janine’s child?”
She nodded. “Yes, this is really her child.”
“Dear God.” He exhaled a shaky breath. “No, Janine didn’t call…our arrangement was that I would phone her. I knew I’d be out in the jungle most of the time so I told her I’d be incommunicado in August but I’d get back to the mining camp around her due date and give her a call. I was actually back earlier than I’d expected, but before I had a chance to call her, you phoned with the news about the train crash. I was shattered when you told me Janine and Tom had died—and when I asked about the baby, you said there were no survivors in that compartment of the train. I assumed Janine was still pregnant, of course. And at that point, you broke down so I didn’t press you for details.”
“I’d told you everything I knew. But…didn’t you get the message I left for you at the camp the following day?”
“No.” He frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”
“Jordan, the police turned up at my apartment, hours after they’d notified me about Tom and Janine. They told me the baby had been found in the wreckage, miraculously alive and unhurt. I phoned the camp a second time but you weren’t there so I left a message.” Tears welled up and she blinked them back. “I can’t believe you didn’t get it.”
He struggled to get his thoughts in order. “Why were Janine and Tom traveling by train with a new baby?”
“They were on their way home from L.A.—they’d gone down there for a friend’s wedding. Matthew was born there.”
“Was he premature?”
“No, he was a full-term baby—Janine had made a mistake with her dates. Anyway, Matthew decided during the wedding reception that he was ready to make his way into the world! After they got him out of hospital, Tom and Janine stayed on in their friends’ apartment for ten days. Then they bought a car seat to transport Matthew home.” Mallory’s voice trembled. “The police said it saved his little life.”
For a long moment, she and Jordan looked at each other in silence. Without taking her eyes from him, she wiped a tear away with a fingertip. And then another.
“So,” she whispered finally, “where do we go from here?”
“Janine’s
