BEVERLY BARTON

His Woman, His Child


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      “T hat’s the last box,” Hank said as he closed the car trunk. “I’ll take these things over to the shelter in Marshallton tomorrow.”

      Susan stood on the front porch, the last rays of sunlight streaking her light brown hair with gold. She looked so small and fragile and alone, like a drifting soul seeking a safe haven. He wanted to open his arms and tell her to come to him—that she could find sanctuary there, within the boundaries of his protection. He could offer, but would she accept?

      He hesitated by the car, watching her as she waited for him, her head bowed and her eyes downcast. Two cats curled about her legs and two fat little dogs stood guard on either side of her. Sweet Susan, with a heart as big as all outdoors. He’d never known anyone who loved animals the way she did. And every critter on earth took to her as if she were one of them.

      How was he going to be around this woman—this kind, gentle, loving woman—let alone take care of her for the next year, without making love to her?

      Women came and went in his life. He had deliberately steered clear of long-term relationships and women who would expect more of him than he was willing to give. He liked women—hell, he loved women. And they seemed to not only like him, but to be drawn to him. Jake had once told him that the fairer sex was attracted to Caleb because he was so damn pretty and later because he was a superstar athlete. And they were attracted to Hank because he was such an old-fashioned, Southern gentleman, with a hint of danger to pique their interest.

      Susan Redman was different. She was absolutely nothing like the women he had dated. She was quiet and shy and a little naive. And she made him want her in a way that shook him badly. He was a man who took pride in always being in control of his actions and his emotions. But his attraction to Susan undermined his iron will.

      “Is there anything else I can help you with today?” he asked, not wanting to leave. Not yet

      She lifted her head and focused her gaze on him. Even at a distance, he could see the sheen of tears misting her eyes. God, honey, don’t cry, he wanted to tell her. Lowell wouldn’t have wanted you to be in so much pain. And I can’t bear seeing you like this.

      “No. There’s nothing else to be done. Not today.” She smiled weakly and the sight of her sad little face unnerved him.

      “Well, then, I guess I’ll go.” Don’t let me leave, he silently pleaded. Ask me to stay. Think of a reason to keep me here. He turned his back to her.

      “Wait!” She took several hesitant steps forward, then halted at the edge of the porch.

      He snapped his head around and walked up the brick walkway. “What is it?”

      “I—I need to talk to you.” She held her hands together in front of her, as if she had to restrain herself from reaching out for him.

      “Sure.” He walked up the steps and stopped directly in front of her, only a couple of feet separating them. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

      His gaze followed hers as she glanced around, noticing that Mrs. Dobson, whose house was across the street, was thoroughly cleaning the glass in her front door and that Mrs. Brown, whose house was on Susan’s right, was sweeping her porch. Small towns were full of curious people and busybodies who couldn’t keep their noses out of other people’s business. No doubt both Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Dobson would take note of his presence and report to their friends and neighbors. Personally, he didn’t give a damn what people thought or what they said, but he knew Susan probably cared. After all, she had to live and work in Crooked Oak and would be raising her child here.

      “Let’s go inside.” She eased backward and opened the front door.

      Hank followed her, but before he stepped inside the foyer, he turned and waved at Mrs. Dobson across the street. She waved back and smiled.

      Then he called out, “How are you, Mrs. Brown?”

      The gray-haired woman blushed, but smiled warmly. “Just fine, Hank. Good to see you’re looking after our Susan.”

      Hank waved. “You’ll be seeing a lot of me around here.”

      “Glad to hear it,” Mrs. Brown said.

      Hank entered the foyer where Susan waited, hands in front of her, head bowed and eyes glancing up shyly.

      “They’ve been hovering over me like mother hens ever since Lowell died. They’re nosy, but their hearts are in the right place.”

      “Yeah, I know. I grew up in this town, remember?”

      “Close the door, please.”

      He did as she asked. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”

      She rubbed her hands together repeatedly. “While you’re here in Crooked Oak, finishing up Lowell’s term as sheriff, you’re going to need a place to stay.”

      “That’s right.” What was she getting at? What was she trying to say. “I’m going to contact a Realtor tomorrow. Sheila’s told me that I’m welcome to stay with them as long as I’d like, but I really need a place of my own.”

      She looked at him uncertainly. “Hank, I—I...”

      She turned from him. Her small shoulders trembled. With his heartbeat pounding in his ears, he closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. Shivering uncontrollably, she breathed in a gasping sob.

      “You’re not alone, Susan,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to her ear. “I know how difficult it’s going to be for you without Lowell, but I promise I’m going to be here for you during your pregnancy. I want to help make things as easy for you as possible.”

      She nodded. “I know.”

      He held her with gentle firmness and willed his body not to respond to the small, slender woman in his embrace. “We both loved Lowell and we’re both going to miss him. I intend to do all I can to set things right for him. And that includes making sure his wife doesn’t want for anything.”

      “I need you to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about your being...about Lowell not being... People wouldn’t understand.”

      “I thought I’d made it perfectly clear that I’m not going to tell anybody anything.”

      He kissed the side of her forehead, then rubbed his cheek against hers. Her hair smelled like sunshine and flowers. His body tightened. Loosening his hold around her, he stepped back. The last thing Susan needed was to feel his arousal pressing against her. He grasped her shoulders and slowly turned her to face him.

      “I want to help you, to make things easier for you, not more difficult. There’s no need for anyone to know about our personal business.”

      She breathed deeply. The trembling in her body subsided and she smiled at Hank. “We have to remember that your stay in Crooked Oak is only temporary. You have a job and a life somewhere else and I have a life here. Our only connection is my child.” She reached up and laid her hands on his chest, against the smooth, cool fabric of his overcoat. “I know that with Lowell dead, you feel a responsibility for my baby, but I realize that I shouldn’t expect you to be a father to this child. Lowell told me that you didn’t want children of your own and you didn’t intend to ever marry.”

      “I don’t intend to marry and I don’t want children.” Hank ran his hands up and down her arms, caressing her tenderly. “But you’re right. I do feel a great deal of responsibility for your baby.” He released her abruptly. “I never considered this possibility when Lowell asked me to donate my sperm so you and he could have a child.”

      “I’m sorry, Hank.” She touched his arm.

      Don’t touch me, he wanted to shout. And don’t look at me with those big blue eyes that ask for so much. “Yeah, I’m sorry, too. Fate has played a pretty nasty trick on us and we’re going to have to deal with it.”

      “I’d