Caroline Cross

The Paternity Factor


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trusting way little Chloe lay sleeping in her arms; the lingering aroma of charcoal-broiled steak wafting from the barbecue grill; the warmth of the June sun as it hovered above the western horizon.

      More immediate was the sudden acceleration of her heartbeat as she heard herself say, “I could do it.”

      For a moment, nothing happened. Then mother and son spun around, their expressions a study in contrasts as they caught sight of her sitting there. In a matter of seconds, Mrs. Wyatt’s face went from surprise to dawning delight.

      Shane’s, on the other hand, was starkly unenthusiastic.

      “Jessy?” Beneath straight black eyebrows, his pewter eyes were cool. “I didn’t realize you were there.”

      Refusing to be daunted, she returned his stare. Although his features were the ones she’d always known—the straight, strong nose, the angular cheekbones, the stubborn chin—he didn’t look at all like the man she’d adored as a teenager. There was no amusement lighting those densely lashed eyes, no laughter lurking at the edges of that chiseled mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you,” she said evenly. “I probably should have said something when you first walked up, but I didn’t want to wake Chloe.”

      His gaze dropped to her lap, a flicker of surprise—and something vaguely unsettling that she couldn’t identify—crossing his face as he belatedly noticed his daughter.

      “I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” she added.

      To her relief, Helen Wyatt finally found her voice. “Don’t be ridiculous, dear. You were obviously here first. Besides, it isn’t important. What matters is what you said about taking care of Chloe. Did you mean it?”

      “Of course she didn’t. Mom,” Shane said flatly. “I’m sure Jess has better things to do with her summer than baby-sit for me. She’s probably got plans to hang out, see her friends, work on her tan. Right, Jess?”

      He made it sound as if she were a sixth-grade student instead of a sixth-grade teacher, Jessy thought with a touch of exasperation. Yet even so, for a moment as their eyes met, she felt herself transported back to a time when she’d been twelve and he’d been twenty and she would have done anything to please him.

      Then Chloe gave a faint little sigh and shifted closer, her small body warm and boneless, and Jessy was abruptly brought back to the present. Even if his wife’s death hadn’t changed Shane, it had been a long time since the days when Jessy had been madly in love with her brother Bailey’s best friend. Despite what Shane seemed to think, she was no longer an awkward, impressionable adolescent. She was a grown woman of twenty-six who knew her own mind and who—thanks to him—had learned to trust her instincts.

      And what her instincts were telling her, and had been for some time, was that something was terribly wrong in Shane’s life, something more than the normal grief of losing his wife, as bad as that was. Jessy couldn’t imagine what it could be, wasn’t even sure she was right, but if there was even the slightest chance she was, she wanted to help.

      Before she had a chance to say so, Chloe stirred again, as if disturbed by the adults’ tension, and slowly opened her big blue eyes. She stared uncertainly up at Jessy and popped her thumb into her mouth.

      “Hey, sweetie.” Jessy smoothed a springy golden curl behind one of the little girl’s shell-like ears. “Did you have a nice nap?”

      The toddler nodded, then looked around, a tentative smile lighting her pixielike face when she caught sight of Shane. Extracting her thumb from her mouth, she struggled into a sitting position. “Dada?” she said hopefully, raising her arms to her father. “Get uppie?”

      For an instant Shane didn’t seem to hear. Then he abruptly stirred to life. Stepping forward, he bent down and scooped the child up.

      Jessy didn’t miss either that telltale hesitation or the faint shadow that darkened his face as Chloe gave a little sigh of pleasure and locked her arms around his neck. Although both reactions were gone in a flash, they were a further confirmation of all the niggling little misgivings that had been plaguing her for months.

      It was one thing for Shane to erect a wall between himself and his friends and family. It was quite another for him to rebuff his own child, no matter how inadvertently.

      The realization strengthened her newfound resolve. Enough that she didn’t hesitate when Helen cleared her throat and said, “Well, Jessy? What do you say? Do you have plans for the summer?”

      Jessy forced her gaze away from Shane and his daughter. “No, I don’t. I meant it when I said I’d love to look after Chloe. And actually Shane would be doing me a favor. The condo I rent has just been sold, so this would give me a chance to take my time finding a new place. Better yet—” she leaned forward and smiled reassuringly at Chloe, who was clutching her father’s T-shirt in one small hand “—I think we’d have fun, wouldn’t we, pumpkin?”

      The toddler nodded solemnly.

      “It’s settled then!” Helen said brightly. She looked up at Shane. “Isn’t that wonderful, darling?”

      Shane’s face looked carved from granite. “Wonderful.”

      Ignoring his less than eager response, his mother gave him a cheery pat on the shoulder, then turned back to Jessy. “So, dear. How soon can you move in?”

      

      

      Shane couldn’t believe it. He was thirty-four years old, the founder and CEO of TopLine Sports, a sporting equipment company that employed more than a hundred people and would make a multimillion-dollar profit this year alone. He owned his own home, he voted and paid taxes, he’d been married and widowed.

      Yet as he stood in his front hall Sunday afternoon and watched through the screen door as Jessy Ross pulled her little red car into his driveway, he had to admit he was no match for his mother. She’d beat him fair and square a week ago when she’d pounced on Jessy’s babysitting offer and made it into a fait accompli.

      That wasn’t why he was going along, however. He was doing this because his mother was right. Chloe did need more stability in her life. She’d been a secure, happy seven-month-old at the time she lost her mother. Now, a year and a half later, after two different day cares and at least a dozen different evening and weekend baby-sitters, she was often clingy and too quiet.

      Yeah? And whose fault is that?

      Shane’s mouth flattened out as guilt, familiar and irksome, plucked at him. Stubbornly he tried to ignore it; after all, it wasn’t his fault he had to work—or that there were certain... truths... he couldn’t seem to forget. Besides, it served no purpose. Bottom line, Chloe needed someone she could depend on, and though Jessy was only a temporary answer since she would go back to her teaching job in the fall, her stay would at least give him time to find someone permanent.

      It wasn’t going to be easy having someone in the house, though. Sometimes he thought the only thing that had kept him sane the preceding year and a half had been his absolute insistence on his privacy.

      He took a firm grip on his thoughts. The past was over and done. It had taken him a long time to work through feelings, to get past the grief and the rage that had nearly consumed him. Now that he’d finally reached a blessed state of indifference, he wasn’t about to jeopardize it by getting all worked up about this or anything else.

      Besides, if he had to have his solitude invaded, there was a measure of comfort in familiarity. And Jessy was certainly that, he thought, observing her as she climbed out of her car. Like her older brother, she was tall, with cornflower blue eyes and the kind of skin that turned gold with just a little sun. Unlike Bailey, however, who was a gifted athlete with the sort of looks and laid-back charm that attracted the opposite sex the way honeysuckle drew bees, Jess had been a shy, gawky kid who’d worn braces and been prone to tripping over her long, skinny legs.

      Now, dressed in a navy T-shirt and khaki shorts, with her straight, honey-colored hair caught up in a ponytail threaded