The Baby They Both Loved

As if, Kit had thought, wanting to scrub the taste of his kiss from her lips.

He’d fled fast enough when confronted with proof of his irresponsibility—no big surprise there. But now he was back again, ready to talk to her. That was just fine and dandy with her. She had a lot to say to him, none of it good, and she knew she’d feel better once she’d gotten the bulk of the ill will she felt toward him off her chest.

Convinced that she had the upper hand, Kit had felt comfortable enough inviting Simon into her home. She’d been too smug, too soon, though, as she’d quickly discovered.

Climbing the staircase to the apartment, following along behind her in seeming docility, Simon Gilmore had neatly turned the tables on her. He had spouted absolute nonsense about collecting his son, as if Nathan were a parcel he’d forgotten at the post office. He had scared her so badly, she’d teetered on the wooden steps. And though he had caught her easily, saving her from a fall, his consideration offered her no reassurance at all.

Instead, the touch of Simon’s hands on her had triggered something even more frightening deep inside of her.

For the space of several heartbeats, Kit Davenport had been tempted to lean on Simon Gilmore. She’d had to be so strong for so long all on her own. She had nursed her mother through a terminal illness, and at the same time, she had managed to keep the Dinner Belle Diner open for business. Then she had taken on full responsibility for an orphaned toddler she truly loved.

The lure of Simon’s masculine strength—offered with seeming kindness and solicitude—had been almost more than she could resist. How easy she had found it in those few moments to believe that he meant her no harm. She had thought of him as a friend once, he had seemed to remind her. He could be her friend again if only she would let him.

But then Kit had remembered that he’d been no friend to Lucy, and wouldn’t be to her, either. Not as long as he thought he had the right to take Nathan away from her. Lucy had taken special care to name her as the little boy’s guardian. Surely that, alone, would negate any claim Simon attempted to make, and surely her attorney would agree.

Maybe she should tell Simon she’d rather not talk to him, after all. Maybe she should confer with Isaac first just to be certain of her rights. Better yet, maybe she should send Simon to see Isaac. As a family law attorney in practice for many years, Isaac Woodrow would know a lot more about her legal standing than she. He could speak not only with knowledge but also authority, and he could make sure Simon didn’t harass her in any way during the time he remained in Belle.

Having regained her confidence, Kit turned to face Simon as he closed the apartment door. She was fully prepared to ask him to leave, but the look he directed her way in the instant before Nathan distracted him was so resolute that her breath caught in her throat. He was a man with a mission, and he wouldn’t be easily deflected. Short of causing a scene that would embarrass them both, she doubted she’d be able to get rid of him until he, personally, was ready to go.

Talking to him would cost her little more than time, and she might even gain some peace of mind. Altruistic as he now seemed, Simon couldn’t possibly know all that was involved in raising a child. Once he realized how much time, energy and emotion good parenting required, odds were he’d bow out just like he had three years ago.

She would only pitch a fit if Simon tried to take Nathan away from her, Kit decided. Bonnie and George were close by. They would come to her rescue if need be.

Though watching Simon’s expression soften as he gazed at Nathan, Kit couldn’t believe he’d ever threaten her or harm her physically. He had always been a patient man. He had also treated everyone he knew with kindness and understanding—including Lucy, even when her behavior toward him had been careless and chaotic.

Running out on her, as he had the one time she’d really needed him, had seemed totally out of character to Kit. But the fact remained that he had—proof, as far as Kit was concerned, that he wasn’t nearly as good or kind or decent as she’d once believed him to be.

“It’s time for Nathan to have his lunch,” Kit said, maintaining a pragmatic tone, but only with great effort. “Why don’t you join us in the kitchen? We can talk while I feed him.”

Simon seemed to fill the apartment’s cozy living room with his masculine presence. Though nicely furnished and quite comfortable under normal circumstances, it certainly wasn’t spacious. At least not spacious enough for a woman, namely her, who would have rather not been in close quarters with a man, namely Simon, whom she considered more of an enemy than friend.

Unfortunately, the kitchen was smaller still. Kit’s mother had rarely used it, preferring, as she had, to cook in the diner’s larger and better-equipped facility. Kit didn’t cook there, either. She mostly just reheated whatever leftovers she brought up from the diner for herself and Nathan.

Giving the little boy his meals in the upstairs kitchen had become a part of their routine, though—one that Kit was loathe to disrupt. She had learned that any change in routine tended to make Nathan extremely fussy. Not unusual, considering he’d lost his mother, and certainly understandable. Upsetting him in order to keep Simon at a distance that would be nominal at best simply wasn’t necessary.

“Can I do anything to help?” Simon asked, following her as she headed for the kitchen doorway.

“I’m used to managing on my own,” she answered in a tart tone, bristling at him all over again before she could stop herself.

She didn’t like feeling crowded on any front, and just then Simon seemed to loom large—his broad shoulders and powerful physique making her feel ill at ease. He wasn’t being obnoxious about it, and he’d meant well, offering to help, but still…

“Of course, you are,” he said, pausing just inside the kitchen doorway, obviously aware of her discomfort. “I just thought you might be glad to have someone lend a hand for a change. But I’ll stay out of your way if that’s what you’d prefer.”

She was making a difficult situation even more so by behaving in such a disdainful manner, Kit thought, drawing a calming breath as she settled Nathan into his high chair and fastened the safety straps. Simon was right. She regularly wished she had someone to help her.

“You can get one of the bottles out of the refrigerator and put it in the bottle warmer on the counter to heat up,” she said, her tone now slightly conciliatory.

“So he still takes a bottle?”

Simon seemed genuinely interested as he followed her instructions without any fumbling or bumbling.

“Only after he’s eaten lunch. It helps him settle down for a nap. He gave up his bedtime bottle about six weeks ago. He decided one night that he didn’t want it.”

Moving efficiently around the tiny kitchen, managing somehow not to bump into Simon, Kit took a container of chicken noodle soup out of the refrigerator, dumped it into a pan on the stove and lit the burner. She gave Nathan a cracker to tide him over, opened a fresh jar of apple juice and poured some into a sippy cup. He reached for it eagerly, babbling in a happy voice.

“He seems like a good baby,” Simon ventured, stirring the soup with the spoon she’d left in the pot.

Very domestic, she acknowledged to herself, stepping around him to get a bowl from one of the cabinets above the counter. He had only taken a few seconds to figure out how to work the bottle warmer, too. He certainly deserved an A for effort, but that didn’t change the fact that he’d treated her best friend like dirt.

Reminded that she owed Simon no appreciation at all, Kit reached up to open the cabinet, and much to her chagrin, brushed against him accidentally. The physical contact, slight as it was, sent a shaft of heat through her. Startled, she almost dropped the bowl as she spun away from him.

Seeming equally off-kilter, Simon winced and shifted to the side, away from her, as well. Embarrassed, Kit plunked the bowl on the counter and turned to take a spoon from the drawer by the sink.

“He’s very good…all things considered,” she said, not really caring that she sounded snappish again.

Kit could feel Simon’s gaze on her as he continued to stir the soup. She could also sense that he was eyeing her with renewed frustration. Better that than getting too comfortable around her, she thought. It wasn’t her responsibility or her intention to make the present situation easy for him. He hadn’t earned easy from her, and as far as she was concerned, he never would, no matter how her body betrayed her with girlish longing.

The young man she’d secretly desired years ago had proven to have feet of clay. He had used Lucy, then abandoned her, and he would probably do the same to her if she gave him half a chance.

“Looks like the soup is ready,” he said. “Do you want me to spoon some of it into the bowl?”

“Yes, please.”

Kit stood by in silence as Simon carefully filled the bowl halfway. Then she picked it up off the counter and carried to the table. She sipped a spoonful, testing to make sure it wasn’t too hot, then offered some to Nathan. Sitting with her back to Simon, she tried to pretend he wasn’t there. Finally he moved to the chair across from her and sat down with an audible sigh.

“I didn’t know Lucy was pregnant with my child,” he said, his voice low but steady, commanding her attention with his simply spoken, and utterly unbelievable, statement.

Kit’s first instinct was to lash out at him in anger. He had a lot of nerve saying such a thing to her. He couldn’t honestly think he’d gain ground with her by spouting such a ridiculous lie. She wasn’t stupid, after all, and she’d been Lucy’s best friend. There had been no secrets between them—not where Simon Gilmore was concerned.

Remembering how upset Nathan had been the few times Lucy raised her voice in front of him, Kit managed to keep her emotions in check, however. There was no need to throw a tempter tantrum and cause the child to cry. Not when she could make her point just as forcefully in a calm, quiet manner.

“Give me a break, Simon,” she said, her voice low, as well, but heavily laced with sarcasm. “You knew Lucy was pregnant when you left Belle three years ago. She told you about the baby the last time you were together, and you took off like a shot the very next day. You abandoned her and you abandoned your child and you didn’t give either of them a second thought. Don’t come around here now, trying to change history. It’s not going to work—at least not with me.”

“I’m not trying to change history, Kit,” Simon insisted.

Sitting forward in his chair, his hands gripping the edge of the oak table, he seemed unwilling to let the matter drop. Kit bit back another caustic comment with a grim twist of her lips, and glanced at him with exasperation, her look all but shouting “Oh, please.”

“I’m not,” he said again, his voice suddenly turning hard and cold as steel. “It’s true Lucy told me she was pregnant the last time I saw her, and I did leave town the next day. But there’s something Lucy also told me that she evidently didn’t bother to share with you. It’s the real reason why I left town the way I did, and the main reason I haven’t really wanted to return.”

“Lucy and I didn’t keep secrets from each other,” Kit insisted, making no effort to hide her continued distrust of him. “We were best friends…always.”

“I didn’t think Lucy kept secrets from me, either, and we were a hell of a lot more than best friends. But I know now that she did.”

“That doesn’t mean she kept secrets from me, too,” Kit shot back defensively.

“Just hear me out, okay?” Simon pleaded, his frustration evident though his voice was still low. “Then you can decide how honest Lucy Kane really was with us.”

“Okay, fine. Say whatever it is you have to say. Just don’t expect me to believe you,” Kit advised.

With a negligent shrug of her shoulders, she turned her attention to feeding Nathan.

“The night Lucy told me she was pregnant she also told me the baby wasn’t mine,” Simon began, only the slightest bit hesitant. “She said she’d been seeing someone else over the summer, someone she said that she loved more than me. She also told me he was the one who had fathered her baby.”

Kit stared at Simon then, unable to hide her surprise. Lucy—seeing someone else? Impossible—

“I didn’t want to believe her, Kit,” Simon continued insistently. “In fact, I refused to believe her until she looked me straight in the eye and said it all again, just as calm as you please. She told me to have a nice life in Seattle, then she gave me a little kiss on the cheek by way of goodbye. Talk about a kick in the teeth.”

Simon’s version of how he and Lucy had parted company was too outrageous to even be considered. Yet the look of anguish Kit saw in his eyes before he glanced away was so genuine that she couldn’t dismiss what he’d told her. The thought came to her that he might just be telling her the truth, and with that thought came a cold rush of fear.

Lucy hadn’t really wanted to go with Simon to Seattle. She had admitted as much to Kit more than once that summer. But would she have lied to him about her pregnancy so she wouldn’t have to? Though Kit didn’t want to think her friend could have been so cruel or so deceptive, Simon’s revelation had set off a tremor of uncertainty that was already beginning to shake her faith in her friend.

“Yeah, I left Belle, Montana, in a rush, all right,” Simon added in a musing tone when Kit made no comment. Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I couldn’t get away from here fast enough. I wouldn’t have come back now except my parents called and told me I had some family business that needed tending. They didn’t give me any details, but I’m guessing they’ve been thinking what you and half the town must have been thinking of me lately. Only it’s not true, Kit. I didn’t intentionally abandon Lucy or my child. That’s not the kind of man I am, and you, of all people, should know it.”

Mechanically, Kit finished feeding Nathan his soup, saying nothing though her thoughts whirled a mile a minute.

She was no longer convinced that Simon was lying to her. He’d told his side of the story with too much sincerity for her to dismiss it as a fabrication. There was also no reason for him to go to so much trouble offering excuses. No one had asked him to take responsibility for Nathan’s welfare.

Well, she hadn’t, and she wouldn’t in the future, but maybe his parents would. Only it wasn’t going to be necessary. Once the adoption was final, Nathan would be her child, legally, and she was more than capable of caring for him all on her own.

Finally Kit glanced at Simon again as she helped Nathan take another drink from his cup. He eyed her stubbornly in return, still waiting for her to respond. She wasn’t sure what to say to him. The truth Lucy had told her was so different from his truth. Maybe it warranted repeating.

“Lucy told me that you knew the baby was yours. She told me that’s why you left town. She said you didn’t want to be tied down to a wife and family. She bawled like a baby when she told me you’d gone, and she was miserable for a long time after you left.” Pausing, Kit frowned and looked away again. “It’s unlikely she was seeing someone else—highly unlikely. She was either with you or me or both of us that summer, and she was working at the diner, too. She wouldn’t have had time to fit in a secret lover, and if she had, I’m sure she would have told me. We were so close….”

“I thought we were close, too, Lucy and I, but obviously I was wrong,” Simon said. “She lied to me, Kit, and she lied to you, too. You can either admit it to yourself, or not, but that’s the one basic truth in the whole damned mess she created.”

“But why?” Kit demanded fiercely, suddenly more afraid than ever. “Why did she lie to us? She must have had some good reason.”

If Simon was right about Lucy—if she intentionally kept him from his son—then he might actually have a legitimate claim to Nathan. He had already said he wanted his son. But he couldn’t just take him away from her. She was already his legal guardian and the adoption was very near to being finalized—

“I don’t know why,” Simon admitted. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I first saw Nathan standing in his playpen. She knew I loved her and she knew I wanted her to live with me in Seattle. Hell, I must have asked her to marry me half a dozen times that summer. She’d just smile and say she’d think about it.

“Then she said the one thing she had to know was guaranteed to run me off. You were her best friend, Kit. You were the one she would have trusted most, yet she lied to you, too, didn’t she?”

“Only if I believe what you’ve told me is the truth,” Kit countered.

Gathering Nathan’s empty bowl and cup, she pushed away from the table and crossed to the sink, turning her back on Simon. He was making too much sense for her peace of mind.

“Why would I lie to you?” Simon asked relentlessly, echoing the question she’d posed to herself once already.

“So you can strut around town again without looking like a jerk,” she retorted, aware that she was grasping at straws.

Why would Simon Gilmore care what anyone in tiny Belle, Montana, thought of him—including her? He could certainly snow his own parents without a practice run, and he had a whole other life in Seattle, Washington. None of his friends in the big city need ever know about his youthful indiscretion.

“You should know me better than that after all the time we spent together, Kit,” Simon chided her gently. “I’ve made my share of mistakes and I’ve always owned up to them. But I’m not hanging my head in shame over something I didn’t do. And I did not abandon Lucy or my son.”

“I thought I knew Lucy, too, but now I’m not so sure,” Kit admitted, failing to realize until too late that she had finally sided with him, at least in an indirect way.

“That’s not exactly a vote of total confidence, but hey, I’ll take what I can get,” Simon said, his gruff tone lightening perceptively. Then as Kit took Nathan’s bottle from the warmer, he added to the little boy, “Hey, buddy, how about I get you out of that high chair?”

Clutching the baby bottle in both hands, Kit spun around to face Simon again, just as he lifted Nathan into his arms. The child went to him willingly, looking up at him with wondering eyes. His expression grave but unafraid, Nathan patted Simon’s jaw with one little hand. Simon seemed equally enchanted by his son, returning the little boy’s gaze with one full of awe.

Kit was both endeared and terrified by the sight of father and son taking their first tentative steps in the bonding process. Simon couldn’t think she’d let him take Nathan away from her on the basis of some wild, impossible-to-prove story.

“Let me have him,” she demanded.

Her voice sounding harsh and afraid to her ears as she plunked the bottle on the table, she reached for Nathan.

Obviously startled by her tone, Simon took a step back. His hold on Nathan seemed to tighten as he gazed at her in confusion. Nathan, too, stared at her, his eyes widening, his lower lip beginning to quiver.

Pain squeezed at Kit’s heart as she thought of how easily Simon could turn and walk out of the apartment with Nathan still in his arms. The way he was standing, he had a clear shot through the kitchen to the front door. She wasn’t strong enough to stop him physically. She doubted George and Bonnie together would be, either, even if she managed to alert them in time.

Tears welled in her eyes and her hands began to shake. She couldn’t lose Nathan. Not after all the other losses she’d suffered in the past six months.

“Please,” she begged, unable to hide her desperation as she held her arms out to Simon in supplication. “Please let me have him….”

Chapter Four

S imon stared at Kit in silence for several long, confusing moments, unsure at first what had triggered the high note of panic in her voice as she reached out so greedily for Nathan. He had only been trying to lend a hand, wanting to release the fidgeting little boy from the confines of his high chair before he began to fuss.

Taking such action had seemed harmless enough, and of course he’d handled Nathan with consummate care. He had thought Kit would appreciate the help, busy as she was rinsing dishes at the sink, then fetching Nathan’s bottle from the warmer. But the longing that had built steadily inside of him as he’d sat by the table, talking to Kit, had motivated him, as well.

Focusing more and more of his attention on the child happily eating the chicken soup and saltines she fed him so patiently, Simon had noted the many physical similarities between him and his son. He had seen in Nathan, too, something of Lucy in the determined tilt of his little chin and the elegant arch of his eyebrows.

With increasing urgency Simon had wanted to feel the warm, solid weight of his son’s small body in his arms. He had needed to hold his child close, to look into his bright blue eyes with the gentle reassurance of a father promising his beloved child that he would move heaven and earth to make sure everything in his world would always be just fine.

Your daddy’s here now, little guy, and he’s going to take very good care of you.

Understanding finally dawned on Simon as Kit continued to stand in front of him, however, her eyes darkened by the shadow of inexpressible fear. She must have sensed the intensity of his determination to accept responsibility for the son he only now knew he had. And she must now think that he intended to take Nathan from her at that very moment.

No wonder she had panicked, Simon thought, his heart going out to her in sympathy. She must see him as her enemy, when that wasn’t his intention at all. They had been friends once. For Nathan’s sake, he hoped they could be friends again.

Kit had said that Lucy named her as the boy’s legal guardian. She had also said that she was in the process of adopting him, and it was apparent, by all she’d said and done, that she loved and cherished him deeply.

In the months since Lucy’s death Kit had mothered Nathan as if he were her own child. She was the one constant in his son’s short life, and she was the one Nathan reached for now with a tearful whimper, aware as children always are, of emotions running high.

Simon knew that he would gain nothing by alienating Kit Davenport, and he would upset Nathan, as well, by behaving like a bully. There were ways that he could go about asserting his parental rights in a calm and dignified manner. He truly had no desire at all to cause Kit unnecessary pain.

To his way of thinking, he owed her an enormous debt of gratitude. Had it not been for her generosity of spirit, Nathan could have become a ward of the state. Put into a foster home and eventually adopted by strangers, his son would never have known he had a father ready and willing to love and care for him.

No, Simon didn’t want to hurt Kit, or upset her unnecessarily. But he wasn’t going to give up his son to her, either—at least not on any kind of permanent basis.

Of course, he was going to need time to bond with his son before he would be ready to take over as a full-time father. And Kit was the one person who could facilitate that bonding. Her acceptance of him would, in turn, guarantee Nathan’s acceptance of him, and only with mutual acceptance and understanding would they avoid any further emotional trauma.

“Hey, no problem,” Simon said finally, shifting Nathan into Kit’s arms with a reassuring smile. “I hope I didn’t scare him.”

The little boy’s quivering lip vanished as he snuggled contentedly against Kit’s shoulder. Her relief was almost palpable as she held the child close. But there was also embarrassment evident in the lingering glance she shot Simon’s way.

“Actually, I believe I’m the one who frightened him, raising my voice the way I did,” she admitted, her slight smile rueful.