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

Her gaze lifted from her plate, and as it locked on his, his heartbeat rumbled in his chest. In the silence, a thousand words passed between them.

“Sometimes,” she admitted.

Her expression was far more revealing, and he suspected that her musings were more in tune to his own—and that she thought about what they’d shared in Houston more than she wanted him to know.

“So what do you want to do about it?” he asked.

She paused as though giving it some real thought, then bit down on her bottom lip before saying, “I don’t know, Shane.”

He could have pressed her at that moment, but to be honest, he wasn’t sure if it would be in his best interest if he did. After all, they had very little in common and lived nearly two hours apart.

Instead, he picked up his fork and tried to convince himself that he had an appetite for pasta, cheese and marinara sauce, when he hungered for a lot more than food.

When they finished their meal, Shane paid the bill and they walked back to his pickup, the soles of their shoes crunching along the blacktop-covered parking lot.

So now what? he wondered. Where did they go from here?

He didn’t ask, though. Not when he still questioned the wisdom of getting involved in a relationship that had a snowball’s chance in hell. So he decided to bide his time and see how things played out.

Ten minutes later, they were standing at her door, with a lovers’ moon overhead.

“I’m sorry for prodding you earlier,” she said. “I didn’t mean to pry or make you relive painful memories.”

“I can’t blame you for being curious. You don’t know me very well.”

“I know you better than I did before.” She smiled up at him, revealing a shy side of herself, then reached into her purse for the keys. “I’m glad you looked me up.”

Was she? Even though he hadn’t been as “forthcoming” as she would have liked?

Truth was, neither of them had shared very much about themselves. Was that for the best?

Or was it an excuse to get together again?

“I’m glad I found you, too,” he said.

“Thanks again for dinner.”

So that was it? She was just going to let herself into the apartment and close the door?

He tried to tell himself that it was for the best, but he couldn’t quite buy that with an amazing array of stars blinking overhead, with his blood pumping to beat the band, with her scent taunting him…?.

Unable to help himself, he skimmed his knuckles along her cheek, felt the warmth of her flush, heard the catch of her breath.

As her lips parted, his control faded into the pheromone-charged air, and he lowered his mouth to hers.

Chapter Four

Just a whiff of Shane’s manly cologne, with its hint of leather and musk, stirred up an exhilarating sense of adventure. And as their lips met, Jillian’s heart soared with anticipation.

She’d convinced herself to take things slow and easy until she knew him better, but at the moment, she couldn’t care less about that. Not when everything they’d shared before was about to happen all over again—the passion, the heat, the pleasure.

Oh, how that man could kiss!

He slipped his arms around her, and she leaned into him as if they’d never been apart. Their bodies melded together, and the kiss deepened until desire exploded into a blast of colors, reminding her why she’d thrown caution to the wind that incredible evening in Houston.

And something told her she wasn’t going to be any stronger at fighting temptation now than she’d been back then.

She’d wanted to spend more time with him so she could learn just what kind of man he really was. But at this rate, she was only going to find out what kind of lover he was. And she already knew that Shane Hollister was the best ever.

As their tongues mated, as breaths mingled and mouths grew desperate, he pulled her hips against his growing arousal, and she pressed into him as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do.

Right there, on her porch, where all her neighbors could see, she kissed him as though there would be no consequences or tomorrows.

But there would be plenty of both if she let her hormones run away with her. Making love to him this evening would only complicate things further—if that was even possible. And she couldn’t afford to do that again. Not until she had a chance to actually date the man.

So she placed her hands on his chest and slowly pushed back, ending the kiss.

“You have no idea how tempted I am to ask you inside,” she said, her breath a bit raspy from the arousing assault on her senses. “But I’m on the rebound, and you might be, too. So for that reason—and a few others—I think it would be best if we took things a little slower.”

“Maybe,” he said, although something in his eyes suggested he wasn’t convinced.

Yet in spite of his apparent acceptance of her words, neither of them made a move to end their evening together.

She closed her eyes, caught up in a heady cloud of swirling pheromones, musky cologne and the vibrant and steady beat of a heart on the mend. As tempted as she was to ask him to stay the night, she had to let him go. She’d thrown caution and morals to the wind once, but she couldn’t make a habit of it.

Not until she knew him better.

When she glanced up at him, he tossed her a crooked grin. Yet the hint of a shadow darkened his eyes, an emotion too fleeting for her to get a handle on.

She rested a hand on his chest, where his heart beat strong and steady. Surely she was being too cautious. But she couldn’t quite bring herself to change the stance she’d taken.

“Do you have a piece of paper and pen?” he asked.

She reached into her purse and pulled out the small notepad she carried, along with the attached ink pen.

When she handed it to him, he scratched out his phone number on the top sheet, than gave it back to her. Deciding to provide him with hers, as well, she tore out a page from the back of the booklet, jotted down her number for him.

“Well…have a good evening,” she said, although she suspected that they’d both have a better one if they didn’t spend it alone.

Shane brushed another kiss on her lips, this one light and fleeting. He hesitated momentarily, as if he was struggling with something. Then he kissed her a third and last time, a heart-thumping, hope-stirring kiss that would linger in her memory long after he left.

As he walked to his truck, she stood at the door and watched him go.

She ached to call him back, but if she got in too deep and too soon, she would complicate not only her life, but her baby’s. And she couldn’t afford to do that yet.

There was, however, one thing that she did know. Meeting Shane and experiencing the thrill of a romance had completely dulled the pain of Thomas’s betrayal. And she was tempted beyond measure to hang on to what they’d found together. But she couldn’t enter a full-on affair with him. At least, not at this point.

As Shane climbed into his pickup, a feeling of remorse settled over her. It took all she had not to call him back—or run after him. But it was best this way, especially since she wasn’t ready to tell him about the baby.

Still, as she went into the house and locked the door behind her, she couldn’t help grieving what they might have shared tonight.

Shane spent the night on his parents’ sofa, thanks to all the out-of-town family members who’d converged upon the house for Becky’s first communion. He’d been surrounded by his nieces and nephews, who had spread their sleeping bags all over the floor.

The kids had gotten up at the crack of dawn, so he’d merely put his pillow over his head to block out the noise and the morning light.

He had no idea what time it was now—or where they’d gone—but thankfully they were all up and at ’em.

Years ago, he’d thought that the old sofa was pretty comfortable, but he’d awakened with a crick in his neck this morning, which left him ready to snap at anyone or anything that crossed his path.

Okay, so it was more than a few aches and pains that had him out of sorts. He was flat-out disappointed that he hadn’t been invited to stay with Jillian last night, although he had no one to blame but himself.

She’d struggled with the decision to send him on his way. He’d seen it in her eyes, heard it in her passion-laced voice.

If there’d ever been a couple who’d been sexually compatible, it was the two of them. So it wouldn’t have taken much effort on his part to convince her to change her mind.

But the truth of the matter was that she was coming off a recent divorce, which meant that she was vulnerable—maybe even more than most women might be. She hadn’t had to come out and say that, either. He’d seen that in her eyes, as well.

Only a jerk would have taken advantage of her, which was what he’d told himself last night while his conscience had warred with his libido.

“I’m on the rebound,” she’d said. “And you might be, too.”

That hadn’t been entirely true. Shane had gotten over his divorce a long time ago.

Still, he’d been tempted to suggest that they put another temporary balm on two grieving hearts, although he’d decided against it. Why jump into anything when the future was so questionable?

Besides, if she ever came out to Brighton Valley, which was becoming home to him, she’d probably go into culture shock.

Of course, he’d been more than a little surprised to find her living in a modest apartment, instead of something ritzy. Especially since her jewelry and designer clothes suggested that she belonged in a much nicer place—and in a better part of town.

So what was with that?

He supposed it made sense that she would move closer to the university she planned to attend, but wouldn’t she be happier in an upscale neighborhood?

Or had she entered El Jardin that day primed and looking for a man who had money?

Shane didn’t like that particular train of thought. Had he been wrong about her?

Before he could give it any real consideration, Jack’s six-year-old son ran up to him. “Hey, Uncle Shane. Can I come out to your ranch someday and ride a horse? My dad said he’d take me out there, if it’s okay with you.”

Shane didn’t mind having Jack and his family come to Brighton Valley. It might even be fun to show them around and make a day of it. “It’s not my ranch, Evan. But I can arrange a visit and a horseback ride.”

“Cool! I’ll tell my dad you said it was all right. Woohoo!”

With that, the boy dashed off, whooping it up.

Shane liked kids; he really did. But sometimes it was tough being around his nieces and nephews, especially when he couldn’t help thinking that Joey would be four now and running around with them.

Using his fingers, he kneaded the stiff and sore muscles in his neck.

Once he’d attended that first communion and given his niece the charm bracelet he’d bought, he’d be history—and headed back to Brighton Valley.

In the meantime, after folding up the blanket he’d used last night, he went into the kitchen for a cup of coffee. There, he found his mom alone, standing over the stove and flipping hotcakes.

“Why are you doing all the work?” he asked as he walked up behind her and placed a kiss on her cheek.

She turned to him and smiled. “Because I enjoy having you kids home. And besides, it’s Sunday morning, remember?”

“How could I forget?” His mom’s special buttermilk pancakes had become a church-day tradition at the Hollister house.

“Pour yourself a cup of coffee,” she said, “then get some hotcakes while they’re fresh and warm.”

She didn’t have to ask him twice. After filling a mug and piling the pancakes on a plate, Shane took a seat at the table, where he added a slab of butter and maple syrup on top of his stack.

“Where is everyone?” he asked.

“John and Karen took Becky to the church. She’s meeting up with a couple of her girlfriends there. Tom and your dad are outside, watching Trevor ride his bike. When you finish eating, you ought to join them.”

Shane didn’t respond either way. But for the past two-and-a-half years he’d been treading along the perimeter of most family gatherings, on the outside looking in. And truthfully it was easier that way.

He glanced at his wristwatch. Church would be starting soon, which was great. He was eager to get this day over with so he could head back to the ranch where he belonged. At least, that’s how he’d been feeling lately.

It was weird, too. Back at the ranch where he worked, Dan and Eva Walker had two sets of twins. And while Shane tried to avoid his nieces and nephews, he didn’t feel the same way about the Walker kids, although he wasn’t sure why.

Maybe because Marcia had always blamed the Hollisters for the trouble in their marriage. And maybe in a way, he’d blamed them, too. Ever since dealing with his wife’s complaints, Shane had stepped out of the family fold. And that was long before Joey had died.

Damn. Maybe Jillian was right. Maybe he was still dragging around some old baggage from his divorce.

He lifted the mug of coffee, savored the aroma of the fresh morning brew, then took a sip.

Making love with Jillian—and having dinner with her again last night—had been refreshing and…healing.

When he was with her, things felt different—better. And he wasn’t just talking about a simple case of attraction. He’d actually been able to shed the shadows that plagued him for hours on end.

But the only way he could imagine hooking up with Jillian was if he moved back to Houston and took up his old life.

However, Jillian didn’t seem to be the kind of woman who’d be interested in dating a cop—even if he wanted to go back to work for the HPD. And at this point, he really didn’t.

There was something appealing about Brighton Valley and small-town life. He actually enjoyed riding fence and herding cattle.

Of course, Jillian didn’t seem like the kind who’d be happy with a cowboy, either. A life in Brighton Valley would be foreign to a woman like her.

So why set himself up for failure? He’d already gone through one divorce because his wife hadn’t been happy with the life he’d wanted to lead.

So why even ponder the possibility of a relationship with Jillian, either long distance or right next door?

Because, for one thing, he couldn’t get her off his mind.

And because he doubted that he’d ever be more sexually compatible with another woman again.

What a shame that would be.

As he cut into his pancakes, which were growing cold, he wondered if it might be best to leave the possibility of a relationship with Jillian to fate. After all, she had his phone number, and he’d included the name of the ranch on which he worked in the note he’d left her at the hotel.

So she could find him if she really wanted to.

“I’m going to get ready for church,” his mother said. “Can I get you anything else? Some OJ? More coffee?”

“No, I’m fine.” Shane looked up from his plate and smiled. “Thanks, Mom.”

“You’re more than welcome, sweetie.” She stood in the center of the room for a moment, not moving one way or the other, then added, “It’s nice to have you home.”

He nodded, unable to respond out loud. How could he when he was counting the minutes before he could head back to Brighton Valley and to a different way of life?

“I know that you haven’t felt comfortable here for a long time,” she said.

Coming from her, the truth stung. And while he wanted to soften things, to imply that she was wrong or to blame it all on his ex-wife, he couldn’t bring himself to lie. “It’s complicated, Mom. But I’m working on it.”

Her eyes misted, yet she managed a smile. “I can’t ask for more than that.”

Then she left him alone in the kitchen, wondering if he’d ever feel like a part of the Hollister clan—or even another family—ever again.

Or if he’d even want to.

Jillian hadn’t seen or heard from Shane in several months—long enough for her to start college classes, visit an obstetrician and to finally share her pregnancy news with Gram.

She’d been right, of course. Gram had been thrilled to learn that Jillian was expecting, but she hadn’t liked the idea of her raising a child on her own.

“What about the father?” Gram had asked. “Does he plan to be a part of the baby’s life?”

“I’m not sure how he’ll feel about that.” Jillian had no way of knowing what Shane’s reaction would be. “He doesn’t know yet.”

“You haven’t told him that you’re pregnant?” The tone of Gram’s voice had indicated both surprise and disapproval.

“Not yet,” Jillian had admitted.

Gram had clucked her tongue. “A man deserves to know that he’s going to be a daddy, Jilly. You can’t keep something like that from him. It’s not fair.”

“I’m going to tell him. I’m waiting for the right time.”

“When is that?” Gram had asked. “On your way to the delivery room?”

Jillian wouldn’t wait that long, but Gram was right. She was running out of time.

Ever since the night Shane had come by her apartment in Houston, she’d been kicking herself for letting him go without making arrangements to see him again. After all, she could have suggested that he stop by the next day on his way back to Brighton Valley…but she’d just assumed that he would.

In fact, she’d waited close to the house all day, hoping he might show up or call, but he hadn’t done either.

But maybe that was her fault, not his. She hadn’t meant to give him the impression that she wasn’t interested in him. She’d just wanted to take things slow, to give herself some time to think.

Had he gotten the idea that she was shutting him out completely?

Or had he backed off, only to find another woman who interested him? Someone local and more his type?

That possibility sent a shiver of uneasiness through her. Had she found a knight in shining armor, only to let him slip through her fingers?

Sleeping with the handsome cowboy had just…happened. Well, that wasn’t exactly true. That evening had unfolded as beautifully as a well-choreographed waltz.

She’d never been so spontaneous before, never been so bold as to suggest sex with a virtual stranger. But neither had she ever wanted to make love so badly with a man that nothing else had mattered.

If she’d actually gone to the hospital complaining of a broken heart or shattered dreams, Shane Hollister would have been just what the doctor would have ordered. He’d been sweet, sensitive, funny…and refreshing.

His kisses had been a better fix than any drug could have been; they’d made her feel whole and lovable again.

For the first time since learning of her ex-husband’s infidelity, Jillian had found a way to ease the pain and to chase away the emptiness she’d lived with for months—if not for all the years she’d been married. And in the midst of it all, Shane had taken her to a place she’d never been before, a peak and a climax she’d never even imagined.

How could she not want to see him again?

More than once, she’d been tempted to call him. Yet she hadn’t, which meant that Shane Hollister continued to be a mystery. Each time she’d picked up the phone, she’d chickened out.

The longer she waited, the harder it was going to be. So she would contact him today.

Didn’t she owe him that much?

She reached for her purse and searched for the small notepad on which he’d written his number. It had been several months since he’d given it to her.

What if he’d gotten involved with someone else in the meantime?

Her heart cramped at the thought, creating an ache she hadn’t been prepared for. After all, it’s not as though she had any claim on him.

Oh, no?

She placed her hand on the swell of her belly, where their baby grew, and her thoughts drifted back to the night she’d taken him to her hotel room.

She’d never done anything so bold or brazen before and doubted that she ever would again. But she hadn’t been sorry then, and she wasn’t sorry now.

In less than five months she would be having Shane’s baby. She was going to have to tell him, no matter what the consequences were. And it was only right to do that in person.

So she pulled out the notepad where he’d written his number. The page curled up on the ends, thanks to all the times she’d looked at it, tempted to place the call, then deciding not to. But this time, she grabbed the phone and dialed.

It was time to tell Shane that he was going to be a daddy.

Chapter Five

Shane stood at the mudroom sink, chugging down a large glass of water.

The hay he’d ordered last week had arrived this afternoon, so he’d spent the past couple of hours helping the driver unload a semitruck and trailer. They’d had to stack it in the barn, which meant he’d been bucking bales that weighed ninety pounds or more and stacking them more than chest high.

Needless to say, he’d not only gotten a good workout, but he’d also built up a hearty appetite in the process. So no matter what he decided to fix for dinner, he’d have to make plenty of it. Fortunately, Eva Walker kept a well-stocked pantry and freezer, so he wouldn’t have any problem whipping up something good to eat.

For the past week, Shane had been holding down the fort while Dan, Eva and their four children—two sets of twins, toddlers and second-graders—were in New York, visiting a family friend.

Since Dan had asked him to look after things while he was gone, Shane had packed up his shaving gear and clothes and moved out to the ranch, where he’d spent his days working with the horses and his nights caring for the family menagerie—two dogs, a cat and a hamster.

Shane really didn’t mind helping out, since Dan was not only his boss, but his friend. The two of them had met a year or so ago in town at Caroline’s Diner, and Dan had offered him a job. Taking the ranch hand position had proved to be a blessing for both of them.

As Shane rinsed his face and hands in the sink, his cell phone rang. He figured it was his nephew calling to arrange the promised day of horseback riding. It had been nearly two months since Shane had agreed to let Evan come out to the ranch, but with school and T-ball schedules, they’d decided to wait until his summer vacation.

Evan was a city kid who would prefer to be a cowboy, if given the chance, and Shane couldn’t help but grin at the image of the happy boy in the saddle.

Tempted to let the call roll over to voice mail until he dried his hands and poured himself a glass of iced tea, he glanced at the display, and saw an unfamiliar number. Maybe he’d better not ignore that one. “Hello.”

“Shane?”

Jillian? After three months, he’d given up hope of ever hearing her voice again.

“Hey,” he said, his heart thudding as though it was clamoring to escape his chest. “How’s it going?”

“Good, thanks.”

He’d been tempted to contact her again, either by telephone or a drive into the city, but he’d held off. If there was one thing to be said about Shane Hollister, it’s that he could be pretty damn stubborn when he put his mind to it.

“How about you?” she asked.

“Not bad.”

That same awkward silence filled the line again, so hoping to help things along, he said, “It’s good to hear from you.”

“Thanks.”

Come on, honey, he wanted to say. Just tell me why you’re calling. Are you having a hard time forgetting that night? Or that last kiss?

He might have nearly written her off, but that didn’t mean he no longer thought about her or dreamed about her. Hell, each night he slipped between the sheets of his bed, he’d never been completely alone. Her memory had followed him there.

“I’d like to talk to you,” she said. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’m glad you called.”

“Actually,” she said, “I’d rather talk to you in person. Would it be okay if I drove out to Brighton Valley to see you?”