LITMIR.BIZ

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she said wonderingly.

      “Get what?” He wished he knew how his wife managed to speak what sounded like English without making one bit of sense.

      “It’s yours,” Casey answered.

CHAPTER THREE

      “My—?” Jack didn’t finish the question, because, finally, he did get it.

      Last August, when his wife had showed up in L.A. to go over their settlement, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Although she’d felt the same way, the passion wasn’t enough to persuade her to stay.

      “I thought you were on the pill,” he added numbly. The truth was, he hadn’t given any thought to a pregnancy, although he could see now that he should have.

      “I’d just gone off it,” Casey said. “I didn’t think I could get pregnant yet. I was wrong.”

      Having had plenty of experience with people who manipulated and lied, Jack knew she might have done it on purpose. But he didn’t believe that. For one thing, he respected Casey too much to think so poorly of her. Also, had her goal been to maneuver him into agreeing to start a family or to pressure him to pay child support, she wouldn’t have waited eight months for him to stumble onto the truth.

      “You weren’t going to tell me?” he demanded, not so much from outrage as because he’d learned that asking questions was a good way to mask difficult emotions. And right now his emotions were about as confused as they’d ever been.

      Casey clasped her hands in front. “I knew you didn’t want a baby and I never meant to force you.”

      “Some things are hard to hide,” he pointed out. “Don’t you think I’d have learned the truth eventually?”

      “In nearly three years, this is the first time you’ve come to Tennessee.” Restlessly, she began tossing the party detritus into a paper bag.

      A woman in her condition shouldn’t have to clean up by herself. Guiltily, Jack realized Casey’s friends probably would have stayed to help if he hadn’t arrived.

      He began collecting paper plates bearing the remains of cake and ice cream. The smell of food reminded him he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast except the beef jerky. Fortunately, he was used to missing meals.

      “So when is it due?” He couldn’t say the words “the baby” yet. That made the whole thing seem too real.

      “In a few weeks.”

      “I’ll pay the doctor bills.” It was the least he could do.

      “They’re taken care of.” Pulling down a banner, she stuffed it into her sack. “Around here, the doctor lets you pay on an installment plan.”

      How typical of Casey to insist on handling everything herself. Jack wished she’d let him help. He knew better than to insist, though.

      They worked in silence for a few minutes before she added, “You’re not mad?”

      “I’m too buffaloed to be mad,” he admitted.

      “Does that mean you might get angry after you’ve had time to absorb it?” she probed.

      Seeking a reasonable response, he said, “I don’t suppose this is your fault any more than it is mine.”

      Sadness and resignation mingled in her expression. “No,” Casey replied tiredly, “I don’t suppose it is.” Hauling her sack, she went into the kitchen. Jack suppressed the urge to carry it himself, because he could tell she wanted a few minutes alone.

      He’d said the wrong thing again. Under his breath, he cursed his ineptness as he collected more wrappings.

      The problem was, he had no idea what remark had set her off. He didn’t understand how she felt or how he felt, either. As for how to deal with Casey, he might as well have stepped out of an airplane to discover himself on an alien planet where a two-headed, gibberish-speaking native was expecting him to say and do the right things.

      He didn’t know where to start.

      * * *

      I DON’T SUPPOSE this is your fault.

      Well, there was an enthusiastic response, Casey reflected grumpily. She dropped the sack near the back door, since she didn’t feel up to carting it outside and wrestling with the heavy, locking trash can lid that kept animals at bay.

      In spite of everything she knew about Jack, her heart had leaped at seeing him in the doorway. When he’d given her that baffled, little-boy look and run his fingers through his hair in consternation, she might have gathered him into her arms if the guests hadn’t been standing around.

      And if her abdomen wouldn’t have gotten in the way.

      What had she expected, that he’d take one look at her bulge and turn into an ecstatic daddy-to-be? Jack had made his position clear, so she shouldn’t be surprised that one glance at her advanced condition hadn’t changed his mind. But it was heartbreaking.

      Anxious to keep busy, Casey began unloading the dishwasher Enid had run earlier. As she stowed cake pans and trays in the cabinets, she calmed at the memory of how much fun she’d had, playing silly games and eating too much at the party.

      Her friends had been more than generous. She really appreciated the way they’d chipped in for a playpen and car seat, which meant a big savings to her budget. She made a mental note to begin writing thank-yous as soon as she found a spare moment.

      Why did Jack have to show up and make everyone go home early? Why did he have to make her heart beat faster and remind her of how much she missed him?

      She wished seeing him didn’t have this effect. Also that he would at least pretend to be excited about the baby. Instead, he acted as if this were an irksome inconvenience, like a car that had broken down and couldn’t be fixed.

      It would have been better if he hadn’t found out. They could have led their separate lives peacefully, as if they’d never met.

      Oh, right. As if she could forget him when every time she looked at her daughter she was likely to see his eyes or his grin. Diane’s very existence reminded her of the unforgettable night when they’d created her.

      Standing motionless on the linoleum, Casey forced herself to be honest. She’d longed for Jack to find out. She’d wanted him to grin and admit what a huge mistake he’d made by foolishly rejecting fatherhood. Then, no doubt, they could have strolled off into the sunset, pushing a baby carriage and feeding each other bonbons.

      Well, that wasn’t going to happen. So he ought to leave, and the sooner the better.

      Of course, she had to be practical if she wanted him to accept the heave-ho. He had come an awfully long way with good motives and, being a guy, he must want food, Casey reasoned.

      Retrieving some of the finger sandwiches Enid had stored in the fridge, she tucked them and a cupcake inside a lunch bag. At least he couldn’t say she sent him away hungry.

      Then she heard the one noise a woman never, ever expects to emanate from a room in which she has left an unaccompanied male.

      He was running the vacuum cleaner.

      Astonished, Casey went to watch. Not that she imagined sprites had sneaked in to do the cleanup, but some things had to be witnessed to be accepted.

      The first thing she saw in the living room was Jack’s dark suit coat draped over a chair. The second was the tantalizing way his button-down shirt emphasized the contours of his chest as he navigated the vacuum around the table legs.

      He stopped to move a chair aside and pick up a bit of ribbon that had fallen beneath it. The attention to detail tickled her. She’d always admired her husband’s thoroughness, although she’d never seen him vacuum a carpet before.

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