had got nothing done. His mind was everywhere on everything but his work. Anger at Emily and her harebrained proposition still churned in his gut.
Methodically, as if compartmentalizing his thoughts also, he began gathering his tools and placing them precisely in the toolbox. The exercise served to cool his anger enough to be able to think rationally.
Once he got past the anger, the idea of having a baby with Em wasn’t at all unappealing. He thought about her tight jeans, her sweater clinging to her endless curves, her sweet kissable mouth, about—
Yes, the more he thought about it, the more appealing it became. The one aspect that stopped him, however, was leaving after the baby was conceived. Deserting his duties as a father to his own child? Missing out on its life? How could she even ask such a thing of him?
He wondered just how much Em wanted this baby. Was she just looking for a way to keep her home? He recalled her passionate words and the pleading look on her face.
I really want the baby, Kat—for myself. Really.
Not a doubt remained in his mind that she did want the baby. By why, if not for legal reasons? Could Em just be so in need of love that she felt a baby would fill the hole in her life?
The answers eluded him. But of one thing he was sure. Em needed him. He could help her. The rest would have to sort itself out. Besides, he’d be living right here, so she’d have to let him see his child. Wouldn’t she?
He threw the last of the tools in the box, snapped the lid closed, then hefted it into the back of his truck. He rinsed off in a bucket of water, then grabbed his shirt off the porch railing. He slid his arms into the sleeves and left the front open. As he walked past the oak tree, he glanced down at the remains of their lunch. Good excuse as any to show up on her doorstep.
AS EMILY entered the house through the kitchen door, the phone rang. She hurried to pick it up.
“Hello.”
“Hello, sweetheart.”
“Rose! Hi!” After the episode with Kat, Emily really needed the sound of a comforting voice. “Where are you?”
“Still in Mexico. I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Emily wasn’t about to go into long-distance details of what was going on in her life. Time enough for that when Rose came home. Besides, Emily needed time to figure out how to tell Rose what was going on.
As if Rose could see it, she smiled. “I’m fine. What about you? When are you going to stop this globe-trotting and come home?”
A high-pitched laugh filled the phone. “We’re in Mexico City. Right on schedule. We won’t be home for another two weeks. Although, if Carol and I had our way, we’d put Helen on the next flight to Albany.”
“Oh? Something wrong?” Last time Emily had spoken to Rose, her two traveling companions were fine.
“Nothing that being in the good ol’ US of A wouldn’t cure. Helen drank some of the water down here and she’s been feeling a little peaked for the last couple of days, if you know what I mean.”
Emily knew. She’d heard horror stories about what happened when you drank the water in foreign countries.
“Carol and I have been trying to get her to go home. She’s got her back up and flatly refuses.”
Standing straighter with concern for her housekeeper’s elderly friend, Emily frowned. “Is she going to be okay? Maybe you should just stick her on the next flight home.”
Again Rose laughed. “She’d kick and scream all the way to the airport. She’s determined to stick it out. Says she saved for ten years for this vacation, and she’s gonna make the most of it, even if it’s from the inside of a bathroom.” A door closed in the background. “Gotta go. Carol just came back with lunch. You take care and I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.”
“I miss you,” she said impulsively, then quickly added, “I love you.”
“Love you more,” came Rose’s familiar reply, then silence. “You sure you’re doing okay?”
Emily must have given away something of her mood in her tone of voice. Deliberately, she brightened it. “Of course, I’m fine. Honey comes over every other day and checks to make sure I don’t starve to death. Don’t worry about me. I’ll survive. You enjoy your vacation.”
“All right. If you say so. Bye, sweetheart.”
“Bye.”
She returned the receiver to the wall phone and leaned her head against the cool plastic. How she missed Rose, and not just for her cooking. She needed someone to help her through this mess, if only emotionally. Rose always managed to get Emily’s feet planted firmly on solid ground. Right now, she felt as if she were being sucked up in the middle of a tornado.
Resolutely, knowing that self-pity would get her nowhere, Emily pushed herself upright and turned toward the sink. In the doorway, outlined by the sun, stood Kat. She couldn’t see his face. But she knew. The half-gainer her insides did confirmed it.
Unsure of what to say, she said nothing.
He held out the blanket and picnic hamper. “You forgot these.”
“Thanks.” She took them and placed them on one of the kitchen chairs. Another silence stretched out.
“Em—”
“Kat—”
He smiled. “You first.”
“No, you first.”
“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me to do, and I’ve changed my mind.”
Emily’s insides did a flip. She wasn’t sure if relief caused it or that there was a very good chance she would soon become a mother. “You’ll father my baby?”
He nodded. “But we do it my way, on my terms, or not at all.” Kat came the rest of the way into the kitchen, then sat on the edge of the table. He looked directly at Emily.
She sobered. “I’m listening.”
“First of all, we’ll get married.”
Chapter Four
“Married!” Emily sank into the chair behind her and stared openmouthed across the kitchen table at Kat. Had he lost his mind, or she her hearing? “You did say married?”
“Yes. Married, as in old shoes, rice, orange blossoms.” Although his tone was light, his eyes held a seriousness that disturbed Emily. “As in a legitimate mother and father for our child.”
She didn’t like the emphasis he put on our, but her senses hadn’t recovered enough to retaliate. Besides, deep down, it warmed her that he cared enough for their yet-to-be-conceived child that he wanted it never to have to face life without the legitimacy of its parents’ marriage attached to its name.
“Why don’t you make some coffee and we’ll discuss the rest of the conditions?”
The rest? Wasn’t marriage enough? How many more outrageous demands was he going to hit her between the eyes with?
Kat jumped suddenly to his feet. “Never mind. I remember your coffee. I’ll make it.” He went to the cabinet, then search for and found the coffee canister. Methodically, he went through the ritual of brewing a full pot of coffee.
While he worked, Emily watched him, carefully assessing what she saw. Kat had become downright disgustingly gorgeous. With her own dark-brown hair trapped somewhere between chestnut and sable, she’d always envied the way his wavy hair glowed with the bluish highlights that only true ebony hair has. His shoulders, broadened and muscled from hard work, strained at the seams of the worn, blue cotton workshirt, as did the corded muscles of his legs against his faded denim jeans, as if his entire body would have