Christmas Baby: A Baby Under the Tree / A Baby For Christmas / Her Christmas Hero

“How are you fixed for money?” he asked.

“I’m okay.” She pulled up short. “That’s not why I came out here.”

He stopped, too. “You need to understand something. I don’t expect you to support the baby all by yourself. I’ll do my part.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, then her gaze lifted and locked on his. Sincerity flared in her eyes, as well as determination. “You don’t have to.”

Yes, he did.

Unable to help himself, he reached for her hair, touched the silky platinum-blond strands, then let them slip through his fingers. Jillian might be pregnant, and he might have been blown away by the news, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t a beautiful woman. Or that he’d stopped thinking about wanting to spend another night with her.

Jillian slowly turned away from him, and they continued down the street for two short blocks. Their conversation ceased, as Shane let his thoughts run away with him.

There were a lot of things to consider, a lot yet to be seen. He probably ought to ask more questions. After all, he certainly had plenty of them bouncing around in his head. But he didn’t want things to get any heavier between them than they were now.

Not with a lover’s moon lighting their path to the motel where she had a room.

The Night Owl, a typical small-town motor inn, sat near the highway, catering to travelers on a budget and to those just passing through. It was the only place to stay on this side of Brighton Valley.

Across town, closer to the thriving community of Wexler, builders and developers had been hard at work, creating several subdivisions along the perimeter of the lake and recreation area.

The Brighton Valley Medical Center, which served the citizens from the entire valley, was located in that part of town, too, as was a supermarket, a department store and a much nicer motel.

But since Shane hadn’t wanted to give Jillian any complicated directions, he’d chosen the Stagecoach Inn because it would be easier for her to find. However, he hadn’t expected her to need lodging, too. So he should have come up with something closer to Wexler.

He supposed the Night Owl wasn’t so bad, even if it wouldn’t provide her with the kind of accommodations she was probably used to.

As they approached the single-story building with white stucco walls and a red-tile roof, he spotted a couple of older vehicles in the parking lot, but his gaze lit upon a white, late-model Mercedes coupe in the space closet to number ten, which had to be where they were heading.

Jillian’s steps slowed as she reached into her purse, then lifted an old-fashioned key instead of a more modern card and smiled. “I guess this place is in a bit of a time warp.”

Her smile suggested she wasn’t too bothered by the age of the motel, then she turned and led him to number ten.

Shane was reminded of the last time she’d let him into her hotel room.

As much as he’d like to wrap his arms around her again, kiss her senseless at the door, stretch out naked on the bed and make love until dawn, things were going to be different tonight.

At least, he assumed they would be.

Yet just as before, Shane held the door for Jillian, then followed her inside.

The room, which was clean but sparse, had been simply decorated with a queen-size bed and the typical, nondescript box-style furniture. Again he was reminded that she wasn’t used to this kind of lodging, even if she hadn’t complained.

He set their bag of food on the small Formica table in the corner, then dug inside for the takeout cartons, plastic utensils and napkins Trina had packed inside.

After setting everything out on the table, he turned to Jillian, intending to follow her lead.

She blushed, and her thick, spiky lashes swept down, then up in a hesitant way.

“What’s the matter?”

“I…” She bit down on her bottom lip. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just a little concerned about what the future will bring.”

For a moment, he wondered if she was talking about them having dinner together in her motel room, while a queen-size bed grew in prominence. But she probably meant the changes the baby would make in their lives, about them trying to be coparents when distance was going to be an issue.

Either way, he didn’t like the idea of her being stressed—and not just because she was pregnant. So he stepped forward, cupped her cheeks with both hands and caught her eye. “If you want to know the truth, Jillian, I’m nervous about the future, too. But maybe, if we take the time to get to know each other a whole lot better, things will be easier to deal with.”

Her smile, which bordered on pleasure and relief, nearly knocked him to the floor. And he found himself wanting to kiss her in the worst way—and just as he’d done before.

Who was this woman? And what was she doing to him?

Struggling to get his hormones in check, he nodded toward the food on the table. “Why don’t we start by having dinner?”

“Okay.” She crossed the small room in three steps, then pulled out a chair and took a seat at the table.

He followed her lead, but in spite of suggesting that they eat, he wasn’t nearly as hungry as he’d once been. Not for food anyway. But making love had gotten them into this mess in the first place, and doing it again wasn’t going to solve any of the problems they now faced.

Instead, it would be imperative to learn more about her.

And one thing that really had him perplexed was her financial situation, since she appeared to be ultra-wealthy, yet lived in a modest apartment.

“You said that you didn’t expect any financial support from me. And by the style and make of the car parked outside, as well as those diamond stud earrings you’re wearing, I take it money isn’t an issue for you.”

She lifted the lid to her soup, then reached for a plastic spoon. “I’m afraid things aren’t always what they seem. Thanks to a prenuptial agreement, the only things I got from the divorce settlement—besides my freedom—was a modest settlement, my jewelry and the Mercedes you saw out front. But I plan to trade in the car for something more economical in the next couple of weeks. And I’ve sold some of the jewelry already.”

“Then you do need money.”

“But I don’t need your money,” she insisted. “I didn’t come here to secure child support payments. Honestly, Shane, I only came to tell you that you’re going to be a father. Just so you’d know. I really wasn’t trying to rope you into anything. I can make it on my own.”

Shane didn’t mean to doubt her. It’s just that… Well, he was finding it difficult to get a firm read on her, so he asked, “Then what’s the best way for me to help you? I’m afraid the ball is in your court.”

Was it?

Jillian had just placed a spoonful of broth into her mouth, so she couldn’t have managed a quick response if she’d wanted to, which was just as well. Her first thought was to tell him, You can stop asking me questions and start answering a few of mine.

After all, she’d come out to Brighton Valley to learn more about Shane, but she couldn’t very well open by bringing up the incident that had caused him to get in trouble with the HPD—even if that was the main thing she both wanted and needed to know.

If she did broach a sticky subject like that right off the bat, he’d wonder how she’d found out about it. And what was she supposed to admit? That she’d not only done an internet search, which everyone did these days, but that she’d also enlisted the help of an investigative journalist?

It was too soon to do that, so she answered as honestly as she could. “I’m really not sure how you can help.”

“Like I said before, I want to be involved in the baby’s life.”

“Well, under the circumstances, that’s going to be a little tough, isn’t it?”

It was the truth, although she hoped the words didn’t come across as harshly as they sounded after the fact.

Shane glanced down at his uneaten burger, then met her gaze. Yet he didn’t speak.

He was a handsome man and a good lover—that, she knew. But she had no idea what was under the surface—or what kind of father he’d make. And his desire to be a part of the baby’s life caught her off guard, causing her maternal instincts to kick in.

“If you’re thinking you’d like to share custody, that won’t work. A baby needs its mother.”

Shane stiffened as if she’d struck him, and she wasn’t sure why. He lived two hours away. How could they possibly consider joint custody until the child was older? And even then, she wasn’t willing to enter an arrangement like that until she knew him better and could determine whether he harbored either a short fuse or a violent streak.

She placed the lid back on her soup container, no longer hungry. Why had she told him she was pregnant? Okay, so it wouldn’t have been right to keep it from him, but she was having serious misgivings.

Shane pushed his food aside. “Look, I didn’t mean that I expected to have the baby every other weekend, it’s just that… Well, I have a big family and a lot of nieces and nephews. I want them to know my son and to be able to play with him.”

“Your son?” She smiled, assuming that he probably thought he could relate better to a boy—playing ball, riding horses and whatever activities daddies liked to do with their children. “What if the baby is a girl?”

He paused, and that fleeting shadow darkened his eyes again, moving on as quickly as it had arisen.

“A little girl would be fine with me,” he said. “I’m just trying to figure out how to make a difficult situation work out for everyone involved.”

“Everyone?”

“You, me and the baby.”

Jillian thought about that for a moment, then decided that he wasn’t being completely unreasonable. “I suppose you could drive to Houston on the weekends and visit us.”

Again, he stiffened, as if offended by the offer.

“I’d also be happy to invite your nieces and nephews over to spend time with their new cousin,” she added.

He seemed to be mulling that over. Couldn’t he see that she was willing to compromise—when possible?

She reached across the table and placed her hand on his forearm, felt the strength of well-defined muscles. “I’m sure you’re a wonderful man, Shane. And that you’ll make a great father. It’s just that…I don’t really know that yet. I don’t know much about you. I’m sorry if I’m coming across as resistant or difficult. My motherly instincts must be coming into play.”

At that, she could feel the tension ease in his forearm, and his expression softened.

“I already made a mistake by marrying a man I couldn’t trust,” she said. “So I hope you won’t blame me for being gun-shy when it comes to jumping into any kind of relationship, especially when I have a baby to consider this time around.”

He placed his hand on top of hers, his touch sending a whisper of heat coursing through her.

Yet it was the intensity of his gaze, the ragged sincerity in his eyes, that urged her to give him a chance—to give them all one.

“I can’t blame you for wanting to be careful,” he said. “I’m a little gun-shy, too. And since you’re going to be the mother of my baby, I’d like to know with absolute certainty that you’ll make a good one.”

She hadn’t realized that he had some of the same concerns that she had, a thought that soared crazily like a broken kite on a snapped string.

“You could be a good actress,” he said, “but something tells me that you’re every bit the woman I thought you were when I showed up at your house in Houston, hoping a long-distance relationship might work out between us. But back then, I figured it was worth the risk of striking out if you’d rejected the idea.”

“And now?”

“With a baby in the balance, I think it’s critical for us to know the truth about each other.”

She couldn’t agree more.

After a beat, she asked, “So now what? Where do we go from here?”

She expected his gaze to travel to the bed in the center of the room. After all, that’s where they knew each other best. But instead, he focused on her, this time turning her heart inside out.

“You mentioned that your fall semester will be starting,” he said.

“Yes, in three weeks.” She’d also planned to take a class through the local YMCA on newborn and infant development in the evenings. And she hoped to start preparing a nursery.

He leaned forward, his hand still lightly pressing on hers. “Why don’t you come out to Brighton Valley while you’re still out of school? I’ll cut back on my hours at the ranch, and we can use the time to get to know each other better.”

The invitation took her aback, yet she thought long and hard over what he was proposing.

Where would she stay? Even a room at the Night Owl would get expensive after a while. She’d been trying to stretch her dollars so that her money would last until she secured a teaching position and could afford day care.

As if reading her mind, he said, “You can stay in my apartment with me. I’ll sleep on the sofa—if you’re worried about my motives.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about any of what he was suggesting, but they did need time to get to know each other. And staying with him seemed like a logical plan, at least, financially speaking.

“All right,” she said. “I’ll come to Brighton Valley for a couple of weeks. And I’ll stay with you.”

He sat back in his seat, his eyes growing bright. “I think you’ve made a good decision.”

She wasn’t so sure about that.

Staying with him could make things a lot more complicated than they were right now.

Especially since she wasn’t excited about him sleeping on the sofa when she knew how much she’d once enjoyed having him in her bed.

Two weeks later, after paying the woman who’d scrubbed his apartment from top to bottom and sending her on her way, Shane stood in the living room, surveying the results of her efforts and breathing in the scent of lemon oil and various cleaning products.

It’s not as though he was a slob, but he wanted Jillian to be comfortable while she stayed with him. Of course, he had no idea how she might feel about him living in an apartment over Caroline’s Diner.

When Shane had first come to Brighton Valley, he’d stopped for lunch at the small-town restaurant, where he’d had the best chicken and dumplings he’d ever eaten. His waitress had asked if he was new in town, and when he’d nodded, she’d told him about the vacancy upstairs. So after meeting Dan Walker and landing a job as a ranch hand that very same day, he’d realized that his luck had finally begun to turn.

Dan had also told him he could stay in the bunkhouse, but while Shane had appreciated the offer, he’d graciously declined. He preferred having a place of his own, where he could hang his hat and escape after a hard day’s labor.

And so he’d set about making his new digs feel like home, adding a few pieces of furniture now and then, as well as a flat-screen television and a state-of-the-art sound system. He might not spend very much time at home, but when he did, he wanted a few comforts.

Hopefully, Jillian would find the apartment appealing, as well. After all, she’d be living here for the next two weeks.

Shane crossed the floor to the kitchen, where the sink, countertops and appliances all sparkled. Then he opened the fridge, which he’d stocked with food and drinks after a run to the market last night. Jillian would have plenty of stuff to choose from, including fresh fruits and vegetables.

Now all he had to do was wait for her to arrive.

After closing the refrigerator, he strode to the window and peered into the street, expecting her to arrive soon—unless she’d gotten lost along the way.

He was really looking forward to seeing her again, although he felt badly about leaving Dan Walker in a lurch for the next week. But Dan was a family man and understood the situation, once Shane had explained the surprising predicament he’d found himself in. Dan had listened, then insisted that he’d be able to handle things on his own.

Shane planned to take off only the first week of Jillian’s visit. He would spend as much time with her as he could for those seven days. After that, she’d need to keep herself busy during the day. It shouldn’t be too difficult. There were stores along Main, if she felt like shopping. She could even visit Darla’s Salon. And there was a library in Wexler, which wasn’t too far away.

He still couldn’t believe that she’d gotten pregnant on their one and only night together. Yet the more he thought about it, the better he felt about it.

It didn’t seem fair, though. After his divorce, he’d sworn off women who wanted different things out of life than he did. But now he’d gotten involved with another one, a woman who’d set her sights on things outside his world.

Of course, that might change with time. He had a week or two to tempt Jillian with everything a small town like Brighton Valley had to offer, although something told him it wouldn’t be good enough for her.

As it neared five o’clock, the time she was due to arrive, Shane went downstairs to sit on the green wrought-iron bench in front of the diner.

He didn’t have to wait long. Moments later she arrived driving a silver Honda Accord. Apparently she’d gotten rid of the Mercedes, just as she’d told him.

As she climbed out of the driver’s seat, he took note of her casual clothing—jeans, a white fitted top that stretched over her baby bump and a lightweight chambray shirt.

Her hair hung to her shoulders in a loose, carefree style, reminding him of the way it had looked splayed on a pillow and the way those silky strands had felt as they’d slipped through his fingers that same night.

He was sorely tempted to greet her with a hug, but he got to his feet and shoved his hands into the front pockets of his jeans instead. No need to come on too strong, he supposed.

“Did you have any trouble finding the place?” he asked.

“No, it was pretty easy.” She cast him a smile that seemed almost waifish and lost, then opened the rear passenger door for her suitcase.

“I’ll get that for you,” he said, stepping forward and catching an amazing whiff of her scent—something lilac, he guessed.

She thanked him, then allowed him to reach into the car. After he snatched her bag and closed the door, she hit the lock button on the key remote.

“Come on,” he said, “I’ll show you where I live.”

He led her up the narrow stairway between the diner and the drugstore.

Once they were upstairs, he opened the door, then stepped aside and let her enter first.

As she scanned the living room, he tried to see the place from her perspective. Would she be comfortable here? Would she find it too modest, too humble?

“It’s not much,” he said, “but it’s home.”

She didn’t respond, which made him wonder if she found it lacking in some way. Then she crossed the hardwood floor to the window that looked out into the street.

When she turned around, she smiled, lighting up the room in an unexpected way. “When you said you lived in an apartment, I thought it would be in a typical complex, like mine. I didn’t expect something like this.”

Was that good or bad?

He supposed it shouldn’t matter, yet it did. “So what do you think?”

“It’s got an interesting view.” She walked to the sofa, which he’d purchased a couple of months ago, and placed her hand along the backrest. “I like it.”

Thank goodness. It would have been tough if she were to hate the idea of being stuck here for a couple of weeks. So he returned her smile, then nodded toward the bedroom. “I’ll show you where you can put your things.”

“All right.”

As he led her through the doorway, he said, “I made some space for you in the closet, so you can hang up some of your clothes, if you want to. And I emptied the top two drawers of the dresser. I hope that’ll give you enough room.”

He’d also made sure there was a brand-new tube of toothpaste for her to use, and he’d purchased two fluffy white towels, which now hung pristinely on the rack.

“I didn’t expect you to go to any trouble for me,” she said.

“It was no trouble.” He placed her suitcase on the bed. “If you need some time to rest or settle in, I can make myself scarce. Or if you want something to eat, we can go down to the diner. I’ve got plenty of food in the fridge, but to tell you the truth, I eat most of my meals at Caroline’s.”

“It’s so close. I can see where it would be easier for you.”

“Yeah, but Caroline’s also one heck of a cook.” He chuckled. “I’d never want my mom to know this, but some of the meals at the diner are actually tastier than the ones I get when I’m back home.”

Jillian smiled. “I’d like to check out Caroline’s cooking and see if it holds up to my grandmother’s.”

Ten minutes later, after Jillian had settled in, Shane took her to the diner, where she scanned the interior, clearly taking in the white café-style curtains on the front windows, the yellow walls with a wallpaper border, as well as the wooden tables and chairs.

“It sure looks like a down-home-style restaurant,” she said as she glanced at the chalkboard that advertised a full meal for seven dollars and ninety-nine cents.

In bright yellow chalk on black, someone had written, What the Sheriff Ate, followed by, Meat Loaf, Green Beans w/ Almonds, Mashed Potatoes and Peach Cobbler.

“What does that mean?” Jillian asked.

“Caroline’s married to the town sheriff, so that’s how she lists the daily special.”

Jillian smiled. “That’s really cute. And that meat loaf plate sounds good to me, especially with the peach cobbler.”

“Then let’s find a place to sit.”

Shane and Jillian had no more taken seats at an empty table when he saw Sam Jennings enter the café. In his early sixties, with silver hair and a barrel chest, the Brighton Valley sheriff also had a belly that lapped over his belt, thanks to nearly forty years of his wife’s cooking.

Sam waved at Shane, then headed for the table. The two men had become friends a while back, after a rash of robberies in town had left the sheriff perplexed. Shane had offered his help by studying the crime scene evidence, and they’d soon found the culprit, who was now behind bars.

“How’s it going?” Sam asked.

“Great.” Shane introduced the jovial sheriff to Jillian.

After the customary greetings, Sam stuck around and chatted for a while, mostly about the weather, the fact that the bass were really biting down at the lake and that Charlie Boswell, who’d just retired as fire chief, planned to take his wife on an Alaskan cruise.

Shane hoped Jillian didn’t mind the small-town talk. When he glanced across the table at her, she was smiling, which suggested she was okay with it all.

So far, so good, he thought.

As Sam made his way to one of the booths at the back of the diner to join another Brighton Valley old-timer, Margie, the waitress, stopped by the table with menus and two glasses of water.

“We won’t need to look at these,” Shane said, handing the menus back. “We’d each like the special.”

Margie didn’t bother taking out her notepad. “You won’t be sorry. Those green beans are really fresh. So what would you like to drink?”

“I’ll have seltzer,” Jillian said.

Margie looked at Shane and smiled. “How about you, cowboy?”

“Iced tea.”

“You got it.” Margie started to walk away, then stopped. “Say, how are things going out at the ranch? I heard one of Dan and Eva’s twins came down with strep throat.”

“That was Kevin,” Shane said. “But he’s feeling a lot better now. Fortunately, he didn’t share his germs with the rest of the family.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Margie said before walking back to the kitchen with their orders.

“I take it she was talking about your boss and his kids,” Jillian said.

“Yep. Dan and Eva have two sets of twins. I’ll probably take you out to meet them while you’re here.”

“I’d like that.”