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

Her fingers probed deeper on his hand, gentle but firm. “What happened?”

“He…was killed in a car accident.” Shane cleared his throat again, yet he couldn’t seem to shake the rusty, cracked sound in his voice. “My, uh…his mother was driving, and Joey was in the car seat in back when she hit a patch of ice and fishtailed into the path of a semitruck.”

“I’m so sorry, Shane,” Jillian said softly. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I…” He cleared his throat for a third time. “I took it pretty hard.”

“I can’t even imagine what you’ve been through.”

“Yeah. It was tough.” He blew out a tattered sigh. “And I wish that I would have handled it differently.”

She brushed her thumb across the top of his hand, grazing the skin near his wrist as if trying to offer what little comfort she could.

“I’d expected the overwhelming pain and sadness,” he said, “but I hadn’t been prepared for the anger.”

“I think that’s only natural. And part of the grieving process.”

He shrugged. “I was upset with my ex-wife and said some things I shouldn’t have. She was devastated by Joey’s death, too, and didn’t need me to lash out at her like I did.”

“People say things when they’re hurting that they don’t always mean.”

“That’s the problem. I meant them. And I still do. I just wish I hadn’t said anything out loud.”

“What did you say?”

“I resented her for moving out, for not trying to make the marriage work for Joey’s sake. And when he died, I blamed her, saying it was all her fault. And not just because she’d been driving the car, but because she’d taken him away from me, and I’d missed out on the last three months of his life.”

He turned his hand to the side, taking hers with it and clutching her in a warm, desperate grip. “I’m sorry for rambling.”

Her words came out in a soft whisper. “You didn’t ramble.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t usually talk about it.”

“Maybe you should.”

“You might be right.”

Yet even though he’d finally said it, Jillian didn’t leave it alone. “How long has it been?”

“About a year ago. It’s still hard.”

“How long have you and his mother been divorced?”

“It’s been final for about five months. Joey’s death sort of slowed the legal process. Neither one of us was really able to deal with anything for a while.”

Jillian didn’t say a word. Instead, she continued to hold his hand, to offer comfort. And for a moment, he accepted it.

She might sympathize with him, but she’d never understand what he’d dealt with, thanks to Marcia’s refusal to compromise.

Did she realize that now, after spilling his guts, that he feared grieving for two children—a son he’d lost through death and a baby he’d yet to meet?

What if Jillian refused to let him be a part of their son or daughter’s life? What if she, like Marcia, hooked up with someone else and moved away?

As unsettling as that thought was, he couldn’t help but think that Jillian would probably be better off with a guy who could provide all the nicer things in life—a guy who wasn’t a cowboy or a cop. And that fact didn’t sit any better.

After all, Jillian had said the same thing Marcia had once told him. Babies belong with their mothers.

All right. Maybe they did. That’s the reason he’d stood by and watched Marcia take Joey from him in the first place.

What would stop Jillian from doing the same thing?

Was it any wonder he was torn between insisting that Jillian let him be a part of the new baby’s life and letting go before his heart had the chance to break all over again?

Chapter Eight

As Jillian listened to Shane’s heartfelt disclosure and gazed into his watery eyes, something frail and broken peered out at her, clenching her heart.

A wave of sympathy surged from her womb to her throat, making it difficult to breathe, let alone respond. So she took his hand, trying to connect with him on some level, trying to ease his pain.

He wrapped his fingers around hers, clutching her in a warm, desperate grip. At the intimacy they’d broached, at the strength of their bond, her pulse raced and her emotions soared in a hundred different directions.

There was nothing she could say to ease the pain he’d suffered. And now that it lay before them, there was no way to roll back time, to go back to the carefree day they’d been having—the warmth of the sunshine, the birds chirping overhead, the children laughing…

Jillian hadn’t meant to stir up his sorrow when she’d asked about his son, and as a result, she felt somehow to blame for his sadness, for the tears he struggled to hold back. The only thing she could think to do was to thread her fingers through his, tightening their connection.

Clearly, sitting by the playground, watching the happy children and families at play, was just making things worse.

“Come on,” she said as she stood and drew him to his feet. “Let’s go back to the truck and get the cooler.”

They returned to the picnic area in silence, joined together by more than their clasped hands.

She kept the conversation light while they ate lunch, something she continued to do on the drive back to his apartment. Yet even though they’d managed to maintain upbeat subjects, her thoughts were lugged down by the heart-wrenching disclosure.

Shane had said he hadn’t taken his son’s death very well. Had he fallen apart? Found it difficult to put one foot in front of the other and make it through the day?

That’s the way Jillian had felt, after she’d first learned of Thomas’s affairs. But there was no comparison. Losing a baby would have been unspeakably worse.

Once they were back at his place, Jillian went through the motions of making dinner. Then they’d topped off the tasty meal—baked chicken, rice pilaf and broccoli—with ice cream sundaes.

On the outside, they’d both forgotten about Joey, about the grief and sadness. But she suspected it was something that would always be buried in Shane’s heart, ready to erupt at any time.

After they washed the dishes, he asked, “How about a movie?”

“Good idea.”

Twenty minutes later, Jillian and Shane sat on the sofa, watching an action-adventure flick. Jillian had forgotten the name of it, since she didn’t normally like much violence. But this one wasn’t too bad.

He’d asked her to choose the movie they were going to watch, and she felt that it was only fair to opt for something he might like—something that would get his mind off kids and families.

For a moment, she’d wondered if Shane’s move from Houston to Brighton Valley had been some kind of escape for him, too.

Maybe. But it didn’t explain him assaulting a suspect in his custody. Though, to be honest, she had yet to see any sign of temper or mean streak in him. Ever since she’d met him, he’d been nothing but sweet and thoughtful.

She tried to focus on the television screen, where bullets continued to fly and ricochet off brick walls, where the good guy was surrounded by the bad guys. When she glanced at Shane, she saw that he had leaned forward, caught up in the tension created by a Hollywood gunfight. But Jillian just couldn’t lose herself in the story or the action.

Finally, when things were headed for a showdown of one kind or another, she stood. “I’m going to take a shower, if you don’t mind.”

“Now?” he asked. “You’ll miss the ending.”

She smiled, not at all concerned about that. “I have a feeling it’s going to all work out just fine.”

And, if luck was in their favor, real life would offer them that same guarantee.

Thirty minutes later, Jillian returned to the living room, wearing a pale blue robe over a white cotton gown. Her hair was wrapped in a towel turban, and her feet were bare.

Shane had been watching a baseball game on ESPN, but he reached for the remote, more interested in the beautiful woman standing before him, the woman who threatened to turn his life inside out. So he lowered the volume and gave her his full attention.

“Are you going to bed now?” he asked.

“I think so.” She bit down on her lip, lifted her hand and fingered the lapel of her robe, clearly nervous.

Was she holding something back? Or trying to build up the courage to spit it out?

Instead of pressing her by asking what was on her mind, he waited until she found the words.

“I’m not sure when you plan to turn in tonight,” she finally said, “but you don’t need to sleep on the couch again. There’s plenty of room for you in the bed.”

Shane again reached for the remote, this time shutting off the television completely. “Are you sure about that?”

Her cheeks flushed, and a shy smile crept across her face. “I wasn’t talking about sex, but it certainly won’t hurt for us to sleep in the same bed.”

Shane wouldn’t argue with her there, and while he’d be more than willing—in fact, more than eager—to have sex, he counted her concession as progress just the same.

The way he saw it, sleeping together—even if there wasn’t any sex involved—meant they might be getting closer to working things out between them.

Was she willing to consider having a relationship with him, after all? One that went beyond coparenting?

“I realize that I was the one who wanted to take things slow and to get to know each other better before we consider dating.” She gave a little shrug. “But we took a big step toward intimacy and friendship today, so it seems silly to have you sleep on the couch, all cramped up.”

By intimacy, was she talking about him spilling his guts at the park, getting all teary-eyed and laying open his broken heart for her to see?

In the long run, revealing the details of Joey’s death had probably been cathartic for him, but it also had shown Jillian a weak and vulnerable side of him that he wasn’t proud of having. And one that might have scared off another woman.

Still, he figured they were taking another step in the right direction.

“You don’t have to come to bed now,” she said. “Your side will be waiting for you whenever you’re ready.”

He’d rather hear that she’d be waiting for him, but there was no need to press for more at this point. They had twelve more nights together, which meant that there was still plenty of time for a sexual relationship to bloom.

Their lovemaking had been too good for it not to.

“I’m ready to turn in, too,” he said. “But I’m going to shower first.”

Ten minutes later, Shane entered the bedroom wearing a pair of boxer shorts, even though he usually slept in the raw.

Jillian, who smelled of shampoo, lotion and lilacs, was lying on her side, facing the wall.

Was she asleep? Or only pretending to be?

It was hard to know for sure, but either way, she was tempting as hell. Still, he’d always been able to hold firm when he wanted to, so he climbed into bed, careful not to bounce or jiggle the mattress.

He lay still beside her for the longest time, tempted to reach out to her—with his words or his arms—and deciding not to do either.

But, interestingly enough, when dawn broke over downtown Brighton Valley, bringing a faint light to the bedroom, Shane woke to find himself cuddling Jillian as if their bodies had minds of their own.

They lay spooned together, her back pressing against his chest. One of his arms was under her head, the other lay over her waist.

He’d awakened like this before—in her suite at the hotel. On that morning in early March, he’d slipped out of bed quietly. So now, given a second chance to sleep with her, he had an almost overwhelming urge to wake her with a kiss and a gentle yet eager caress.

Just the thought of drawing her closer to him, pressing his growing erection against her bottom, brought a smile to his face.

As he continued to hold her, relishing her lilac scent, she stretched in his arms, like a waking cat that had been snoozing in the sun. Then she rolled over, facing him. As her eyes opened, as she woke to the reality of where she was and who she was with, her lips parted.

Shane smiled, but he didn’t move either his arms or his hands. “How’d you sleep?”

She blinked, and surprise swept across her face, yet she didn’t pull away. “I slept okay. How about you?”

He’d certainly woken up a lot better than he’d slept, but he wasn’t about to reveal that.

“Much better than the night before last,” he said.

She slowly pulled away, as if reluctant to leave his arms.

He wasn’t ready to let her go, either, and once again, he fought the urge to give her a blood-stirring, heart pounding kiss.

But he didn’t want to push her. Waking up in a lover’s embrace would have to be good enough for now.

As the sun stretched high in the East Texas sky, Shane and Jillian drove nearly ten miles outside downtown Brighton Valley to the Walkers’ ranch. He was looking forward to showing her the place where he worked, but he also wanted her to meet the couple who had become his close friends.

While traveling along the county road, they passed the Sam Houston Elementary School, Roy’s Feed and Grain, and the Flying K Auto Parts Store before reaching open land again.

“How much farther is it?” Jillian asked.

“Just another couple of minutes.”

She nodded, then glanced out the passenger window at the passing scenery.

“Like I told you before,” Shane said, “Dan and Eva are great people. You’ll really like them. Of course, Eva might ask about our plans for the future, but if she does, she’ll do it gracefully.” He chuckled. “In fact, she’ll be so nice about it that you might not even know that you’re being quizzed.”

Jillian placed a hand on her distended womb and turned to him, her brow furrowed. “It’s hard enough talking about the future with you. I’m not sure I want to discuss it with anyone else at this point.”

“I can understand that. But keep in mind that if Eva asks, it’s only because she wants everyone to be as happy as she and Dan are.”

Of course, Shane had reason to be skeptical of the whole white-picket-fence dream and to be leery about making the same mistakes all over again. And Jillian certainly did, too.

“Are you sure they’re going to be okay with…things?” she asked.

“You mean about us staying together in a one-bedroom apartment? Or about you expecting my baby when we’re not married?”

She nodded. “And maybe for us having a one-night stand.”

“First of all, that night in Houston was incredible. And it fulfilled a need in both of us that went beyond sex. So it wasn’t a one-night stand, especially with a baby on the way. And even if it was, it’s no one’s business but our own.” He stole a glance across the seat, saw her nod in agreement. Yet her expression remained pensive.

For a woman who’d once hobnobbed with Houston’s high society, she appeared to be more self-conscious than Shane had expected her to be. But then again, maybe it was her experience with that particular social circle that had her so apprehensive now.

“What did those people do to you?” he asked.

Her eyes widened in surprise. “What people?”

“Your ex-husband, his family and friends.”

“What makes you think they did something?”

“Because I don’t see you as normally self-conscious, but I figure your self-esteem probably took a hard blow when that jerk cheated on you.”

She arched a brow. “What makes you think that?”

“I have good instincts when it comes to reading people.”

He reached across the seat, took her hand in his, then gave it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t worry about what other people think. You’re ten times the person most of them are.”

“Maybe you’re right.” Jillian shrugged. “But I’m more to blame than anyone. I got caught up in a fairy tale. And while my life might have appeared to be picture-book-perfect on the outside, it was actually sad and lonely most of the time.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked, thinking that he’d actually felt a little better after telling her about Joey.

She seemed to ponder his question for a moment, then eased back into her seat. “Our wedding was really over-the-top—almost fit for royalty. We took a three-week honeymoon in Europe, and Thomas and I moved into a spacious family-owned estate in Houston. I was given carte blanche to decorate the house any way I wanted to, but after that was done, I had very little to do, other than getting dressed up and going to various charity events.”

“Were your in-laws good to you?”

“Outwardly, yes. They were very generous. But they were also very controlling and pushy. They interfered more times than not.”

Marcia had said the same thing about Shane’s family, and for a moment, he wondered how Jillian would feel about the outspoken Hollisters, but he didn’t dwell on it.

“So your in-laws created problems in your marriage?”

“I guess you could say that—although indirectly.”

“What do you mean?”

“I wanted more out of life than attending social functions, and Thomas couldn’t understand that. Instead, he insisted I get involved with his mother’s philanthropic projects. And he implied that we’d both be miserable if I didn’t yield to her wishes.”

“So you gave up your dream for his world.”

“More or less.” Jillian was quiet for a moment. “I’d always been a good girl who’d never given my grandparents a bit of trouble, so rebellion never came easy for me. And as a wife, I fell into the role Thomas—and his mother—expected of me. And it was a lonely, unfulfilling life. I’d hoped having a baby would be the answer, but after a couple of years trying, I wasn’t able to get pregnant.”

Shane glanced at her swollen belly, then smiled. “I guess it’s safe to say you weren’t the one with the fertility problem.”

“Apparently not. I’d begged Thomas to go with me to a specialist for testing, but he refused.”

“Didn’t he want kids?”

“He said he did. But maybe he was afraid to find out that he was infertile. I don’t know. Either way, things were always tense when he was around. And when he began to travel on business, I was actually relieved to have him gone.”

“Is that when he started messing around?”

“I think so. He was gone more often than not. And then one of his girlfriends called him at home, instead of the office. And…well, his secret was out.”

“He was a fool,” Shane said.

“Thanks.” As she glanced out at the passing scenery, a smile chased away her pensive expression.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“When I confronted him, I was so angry that I did something completely out of character for me.” Her eyes glimmered, and a pair of the cutest dimples formed on her cheeks. “I called him everything but his given name, then threw an expensive vase against the wall, shattering it into a zillion pieces.”

“I can’t blame you for that.” Shane chuckled. “It seems to me that he had that and a whole lot more coming.”

Shane understood only too well how emotion could come into play and make someone want to break something—or hit someone. And he wasn’t just talking about all of the domestic violence calls he’d gone on, when a cop never knew what to expect.

Shane had lost it once, too. But he wasn’t going to tell Jillian that he’d been enraged to the point of striking a perp several times.

Instead, he reached out and took her hand. “You won’t meet nicer or more down-to-earth people than the Walkers. So don’t worry about impressing them. They’re going to like you and accept you—just the way you are.”

She gave his hand a squeeze, letting him know she trusted him and making him feel almost heroic. But unwilling to let it go completely to his head, he focused on the road.

As they neared the entrance to the ranch, he pointed to the right and then to the left. “See those cattle grazing in the pastures along both sides of the road?”

“Yes.”

“They’re part of Dan’s spread.”

Moments later, they reached the entrance to the ranch, which was marked by a big green mailbox—a plastic replica of a John Deere tractor.

Shane turned in, drove through the open gate and followed the tree-lined driveway until he reached the house and the outbuildings. Then he parked by the barn, next to Dan’s white flatbed truck.

He shut off the ignition and turned to Jillian with a smile. “This is it. What do you think so far?”

“It’s nice.” Jillian scanned the yard, turning to the yellow clapboard house with white trim, where Dan’s uncle, the man who’d raised him, sat on the porch in a rocker.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“That’s Hank Walker. He can be a little cantankerous at times, but don’t let his gruff exterior scare you. He’s actually as gentle as a spring lamb.”

Before they could open the pickup doors, Jack and Jill, the cattle dogs, ran out of the barn, barking to announce the arrival of guests.

As Shane and Jillian climbed out of the truck, Kaylee and Kevin came out of the barn, following the dogs.

Shane introduced the twins to Jillian, then while she greeted the kids, he gave the dogs each a rub behind the ears.

It had taken him a while to warm up to the Walker twins, but not nearly as long as he’d thought it would. He wasn’t sure why that was, but he’d been giving it some thought lately and had come up with an interesting possibility.

Marcia had never met the Walkers, and she’d never blamed them for her unhappiness.

“I’ve never visited a ranch before,” Jillian told Kevin, “so this is a real treat for me. Thanks for letting me come see it.”

“No problem,” Kevin said. “We like having company and showing them around. Do you want to ride one of the horses? I can saddle it for you.”

Shane stroked the back of the eight-year-old cowboy’s head. “Kevin is a good hand with the horses. And he’s learning how to rope and cut cattle, too.”

“That’s really impressive.” Jillian rested her hand on top of her pregnant tummy. “And thanks for the offer, but I don’t want to ride today. Maybe you can take me out the next time I come to the ranch.”

When the front door swung open, two-year-old Sofia stepped out on the porch, followed by her brother Steven. Together they ran toward Shane.

About that time, Hank got to his feet and grabbed his cane. Then he shuffled across the porch, his gait a bit unsteady. As he approached, he reached out an arthritic hand to Jillian. “Shane told us you’d be coming. When’s the baby due?”

Jillian blessed the old man with a smile. “December third.”

Hank whistled. “Before you know it, this place is going to be bursting at the seams with little ones.”

Apparently, he was assuming that Jillian would be a permanent fixture on the ranch, although the jury was still out on that. Either way, Shane didn’t correct him.

Hank gave Shane a nudge with his arm. “Did you know Eva’s expecting again, too?”

“No, I didn’t.”

Hank chuckled. “I’m not sure how they’re going to handle another little rug rat around here. The baby will make five. ’Course, they got me to help ’em.”

About that time, Dan and Eva Walker came out of the house, crossed the porch, walked down the steps and approached Shane and Jillian with welcoming smiles. Shane introduced them as his friends, rather than his employers, since they’d become like family to him in the past six months.

“And this is Jillian Wilkes,” Shane said, turning to the woman who was pregnant with his child.

Jillian didn’t usually like to be the focus of so much attention, but when Dan reached out, she took his hand and gave it a warm shake. He was a ruggedly handsome man with light brown hair and blue eyes. Yet there was a gentleness about him.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jillian said, before turning to his wife.

Eva Walker, whose olive complexion and long dark hair suggested she might be Latina, was a beautiful woman, in spite of a rather ugly burn scar that ran from the underside of her chin down to her throat. Yet it was the sincerity in her warm brown eyes that drew Jillian’s attention and set her mind at ease.