The Baby Surprise / The Father for Her Son. Cindi Myers
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“Of course I don’t mind,” Paige said because, aside from the fact that she was grateful Ashley was there, she absolutely adored Maddie.
“Do you like French toast?” she asked.
The child’s eyes sparkled as she nodded her head enthusiastically. “I love French toast.”
“Then you get the first piece,” Paige decided, dipping a slice of bread into the egg batter, then dropping it into the hot pan.
Her cousins were the reason she’d come back to Pinehurst when the proverbial rug had been pulled out from beneath her feet. Of course, she’d had no idea then that things were going to get a lot worse before they got better—and she was keeping her fingers crossed that they would get better—but she knew she could count on Ashley and Megan to stand by her and support her whatever she decided to do.
“Mmm, I smell French toast,” Megan said, waddling into the kitchen a few minutes later.
“I promised you breakfast,” Paige reminded her.
“So you did,” Megan agreed. “But you know we would have come even without the bribe.”
Paige nodded, tears stinging her eyes as she slid the spatula under the bread and flipped it in the pan.
And although she knew her cousins had to be curious about the reason for her frantic phone calls last night, they didn’t press her. Instead, they worked around one another in the kitchen—Paige making the toast, Ashley serving it up for the kids, Megan brewing the herbal tea her sister had always preferred while sipping half a cup of coffee generously doctored with milk for the benefit of the baby she was carrying.
When Maddie had finished her breakfast and washed up, she took Emma into the living room to play with her, and the three adults sat down with their plates.
“Is this about the hunky guy Melanie saw you with last night?” Ashley asked.
“When did you see Melanie?” Paige countered.
“What hunky guy?” Megan wanted to know.
“Melanie was walking her dog when Maddie and I were on our way over here. She told me that there was a tall, dark-haired and very handsome man at your door last night and that you invited him inside. But not for very long, she assured me. Just about long enough for a cup of coffee, and then he was on his way again.”
Paige shook her head. “Remind me again why I decided to stay here.”
“Because you wanted to take some time to figure out your future, because you wanted to be closer to Megan and I, and because it’s a great neighborhood where the residents look out for one another.”
“Is that another way of saying ‘spy on one another'?”
“Who cares about the neighborhood?” Megan said. “I want to hear about the hunky man.”
Paige swirled a piece of French toast in syrup, then set her fork down again without eating it. Even the coffee that was as necessary to her system as oxygen in the morning wasn’t sitting comfortably in her stomach, and the breakfast she’d prepared held even less appeal.
“The hunky man is Lieutenant Colonel Zach Crawford of the United States Air Force. He claims—”
She thought she could get through this without any more tears, but the moisture that filled her eyes proved otherwise.
“He claims to be Emma’s father.”
“Emma’s father?” The shock in Ashley’s voice echoed Paige’s initial response to Zach’s announcement.
She nodded.
“Did he have any proof?” Megan demanded. As a successful research scientist, she was skeptical of anything that couldn’t be proven.
“He had a letter … from Olivia.”
Megan reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Olivia named you as Emma’s guardian.”
“I know. But if it turns out that he is her father—” She couldn’t finish the thought.
But she didn’t need to. When Ashley reached for her other hand, she knew that they understood the bond she’d formed with Emma. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t carried the child in her womb or given birth to her—she’d taken prenatal classes with Olivia, coached her through the birth and, after the doctor and the mother, she’d been the first to hold the newborn baby.
Still, it was more than that. It was the realization that when Olivia died, the child had no one. And admittedly, there had been more than a few moments when Paige had cursed her friend for naming her the baby’s guardian, moments when she’d fervently wished Olivia had chosen someone—anyone—else.
But now things were different. They had a routine, and a connection. When Emma cried, Paige instinctively knew whether she was wet or hungry or tired or just wanted to be held. And she’d found that nothing comforted her so much as offering comfort to the baby she’d grown to love as if she were her own.
“If he’d shown up five months ago—heck, maybe even five weeks ago—I might have jumped at the opportunity to turn Emma over to him. But now … I can’t imagine my life without her.”
“You’re the expert on custody matters,” Ashley reminded her. “So all I’ll say is, whatever you need, we’re here for you.”
“Absolutely,” Megan agreed.
Paige knew it was true, and their unwavering support meant the world to her. “Thanks. At this point, I don’t know what I need, what he plans to do. I got the impression that he discovered the letter from Olivia when he got home from an overseas tour, tore off to confront her, found out she’d been killed and that I had custody of the baby, and raced out here without really thinking about what he planned to do when he finally came face-to-face with the child that he believes is his own.”
“Poor man,” Ashley murmured sympathetically. Then her gaze flew to Paige’s. “Not that I’m taking his side. Of course not. I just can’t help thinking that the news must have thrown him for a loop.”
“You mean like when Paige found out she’d been named Emma’s legal guardian?” Megan asked her sister.
Ashley nodded. “But at least Paige knew the baby existed. This guy didn’t even know he’d had a child.”
“If she’s even his baby,” Paige felt compelled to interject.
“You don’t think he is Emma’s father?”
“I don’t know what to think, why Olivia never told anyone about him. Any time I tried to get information about her child’s father, she stonewalled me. And yet, if I believe him, if I believe she wrote the letter he showed me, then she had a change of heart and decided to tell him about the child. She wanted him to be a part of her daughter’s life.”
“What do you want?” Ashley