One Spring Baby

“I’m sure I’ll—” Her voice faded when she saw the little velvet box resting on his palm. “Oh.”

“I wanted to be prepared in case you said yes.” He opened the hinged lid to reveal the contents.

Her breath caught when the overhead light glittered off a diamond set on a white gold band. It was exactly the type of ring she’d have expected Cole to choose, simple and classic. Even the choice of square-cut over the slightly more traditional round stone was typical of him—though the gesture itself was certainly unexpected.

“It’s beautiful, Cole.” Her voice sounded husky to her own ears.

He caught her hand and slid the ring on her finger. She told herself it was a good omen that it fit surprisingly well. Her hands were small, but the ring wasn’t overpowering. In fact, she’d have said it was exactly right for her.

He was watching her face. “If you’d prefer another style, we can swap it for—”

She curled her fingers protectively around the ring. “This one is perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it. So, I’ll go now and start making arrangements. This time tomorrow, we’ll be in Branson.”

And married, she added silently, swallowing hard.

She could tell his mind was already engaged with lists of tasks he wanted to complete before tomorrow. She knew how he got when he was focused on a deadline. He was probably itching to tap away at his trustworthy little tablet. “All right. See you tomorrow.”

She walked him to the door, feeling as if she were moving in an odd sort of slow motion. She’d begun the day as an anxious, single mother-to-be. Only a few hours later, she found herself engaged to be married to a man who was busily planning their future while she still reeled from his proposal.

He let himself out, closing the door behind him. With a little sigh, Stevie started to turn away. She paused with a start when the door swept open again. Cole stepped back inside, his expression rueful.

“That was a lousy way to conclude our conversation, wasn’t it?” he asked. “I think I can do much better.”

Before she quite realized his intention, he gathered her into his arms and pressed his lips to hers.

As first kisses went, especially with such little fanfare, this one was impressive. Solid and sturdy, Cole enveloped her, engulfed her. Every feminine nerve ending inside her responded to that potent masculinity with a rush of sensation unlike anything she’d experienced before.

She was kissing Cole! Or he was kissing her. And if ever she had contemplated what it might be like to do so—and she’d imagined it on more than a few occasions, just for curiosity—the reality was more explosive than she could ever have predicted. How could she possibly have suspected that the quiet numbers cruncher next door kissed like a dashing pirate?

His lips were firm, warm, skilled. The hint of his late-day beard was pleasantly rough against her softer skin. He tasted of sexy, spicy, virile male; a potent combination that made her suddenly, unexpectedly hungry for more. She couldn’t quite hold back the tiny murmur of protest when he drew his mouth a couple inches from hers, breaking the contact.

Cole looked almost as dazed as she felt when their gazes locked. And then he swooped in for another taste, and she discovered to her amazement that the first kiss hadn’t been a fluke. She couldn’t have said how long it lasted, or which of them moved closer to deepen the kiss, to press their bodies together. She couldn’t help noticing that Cole was tautly aroused as he thrust his tongue between her parted lips for a more thorough exploration.

How long had this embrace been building? Hours? Days? Months? Was it possible she wasn’t the only one who’d wondered what it would be like, who’d secretly wished to find out?

She didn’t realize she was gripping his shirt in both white-knuckled fists until he finally, firmly set her back a step, carefully untangling her fingers from the now-wrinkled fabric. Wow. Did she say that aloud or was the word just echoing in her otherwise blank mind?

His face a bit flushed, Cole shifted his weight uncomfortably, then cleared his throat before saying, “Well. That was...reassuring.”

She blinked, not entirely sure how to respond to that comment. It wasn’t the adjective she’d have chosen to describe the embrace. Amazing, maybe. Spectacular. Toe-curlingly stimulating, even. But...reassuring?

After only a moment, Cole chuckled huskily, gave her shoulder a little squeeze, then opened the door. “I’ll call you later. If you need anything in the meantime, you know where to find me.”

The door closed behind him again and this time it stayed shut. Stevie stood without moving for what seemed like a very long time. In a daze, she pushed her hair from her overwarm face.

As she turned slowly back into her living room, she felt as if she should pinch herself to make sure she was really awake. Either this was one truly bizarre dream, or she’d just agreed to marry her next-door neighbor. Tomorrow!

Stevie could usually pack for a week in a carry-on bag, and rarely spent more than a few minutes deciding what to take. Yet it took her more than an hour to choose and pack the next day. And all for a two-night trip, she thought with a shake of her head as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, dithering over shoe choices.

It wasn’t as if she needed anything different from her usual informal, somewhat bohemian wardrobe, not in Branson. With its live theaters, shopping malls, themed restaurants, golf courses and arcades, the town nestled in the Ozarks on the banks of sprawling Lake Taneycomo was a cheerfully cheesy tourist magnet.

There hadn’t been a lot of extra money for vacations and travel when she’d been a child, but two or three times each year she and her mother and brother had made the just-over-three-hour road trip to Branson for a relatively inexpensive family weekend. She still had warm memories from those trips, which she’d mentioned to Cole during a couple of their rambling, lengthy chats. Did he remember? Probably. Cole didn’t forget much.

She zipped her suitcase, then frowned at it, wondering if she’d packed enough. No. She wasn’t going to second-guess this. It was only a weekend trip.

It was also her honeymoon, she thought, chewing on her lower lip as she gazed down at her ring. This wasn’t at all what she’d imagined when she’d ever fantasized about a honeymoon.

Was she dressed appropriately for an elopement? Had the weather been warmer, she’d have worn something sleeveless and lacy, perhaps. There was no snow on the ground now, but it was cold enough that she’d have shivered in lace. She’d chosen, instead, a dusky blue sweater dress with black leggings and tall boots. The dress had come from Jenny’s shop, and Jenny had told her the color made her eyes look brighter and bluer. Sometimes she wore a wide belt with it, but she left off the belt this time, accessorizing with a chunky ebony-bead necklace, instead.

Posing in front of the mirror, she looked hard at her midsection. She still doubted anyone could tell her condition just by looking at her. Had she not seen the positive pregnancy test and heard the doctor’s confirmation, she would hardly believe it herself. It still didn’t seem quite real. Nor did the fact that she was going to be a married woman in a few hours.

She opened the silver jewelry box on her dresser to take out the hoop earrings she planned to wear today. As she removed them, a narrow slip of paper caught her attention. She’d saved it from a fortune cookie; she didn’t even remember exactly when, but she’d had it for several years. Something about its message had spoken to her: You will live an unexpected life.

She laughed shortly. “You surely got that right, Confucius.”

Cole was pleased that they were in the car and on the road exactly on the schedule they’d agreed upon. Though he and Stevie hadn’t confided the reason they’d both be out of town for the next two nights, they’d arranged for Lori to check on Dusty tomorrow, so the long weekend was all cleared for their brief honeymoon. Even the weather was cooperating. It was cold, but the roads were dry and the sky a cloudless pale blue. He took that as a good sign.

He was very much aware of how close they sat in the front seats of his SUV. He could reach easily enough across the narrow console to take her hand or rest his on her knee. Because that thought was all too tempting, he tightened his fingers on the steering wheel and tried not to think about the kisses that had left him tossing and turning in his bed most of the night.

He didn’t have to worry about awkward silences during the drive. Though he’d seen the self-consciousness in her eyes when she’d answered the door, Stevie wasn’t the type to be quiet when she was flustered. Just the opposite, actually; she tended to babble. Cole wasn’t sure she took a breath during the first hour of their drive. She chattered about so many random topics he couldn’t even keep up, her hands fluttering around her like restless little birds.

Though he didn’t say much in return—couldn’t have slipped in more than a word or two if he’d wanted to—he didn’t mind her frenetic monologue. Nor did he try to calm her. She had every reason to be jittery. He was a little nervous, himself—not because he had doubts about the plans they’d made, but because he hoped he was up to the massive responsibilities he was taking on. He had to admit he’d assigned himself a daunting task. Torn between bittersweet memories of the past, concerns for the future and frustrated physical desire, he hadn’t gotten much sleep last night.

“Oh, my gosh.” Stevie covered her cheeks with her hands, laughing ruefully. “I’m talking a thousand miles a minute, aren’t I? I haven’t given you a chance to speak at all. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I enjoy listening to you. It makes the drive go by faster.”

“Yes, well, I’ve run out of small talk.”

“Maybe we should discuss some of the decisions we have ahead of us. I made a list last night...”

She chuckled softly. “Of course you did. Should I pull out your trusty notebook?”

He didn’t mind her teasing any more than her chattering. It was all just part of what made up Stevie, and he couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to change her.

“There’s no need,” he said with his own attempt at levity. “I memorized the list.”

It pleased him that she laughed before asking, “Okay, what’s the first item on the agenda?”

He started with an easy question. “How are you feeling? Still no morning sickness?”

“Not a day. Unlike poor Jenny. She said she starting getting sick almost immediately. She didn’t tell us about the pregnancy until Wednesday because she said she was afraid she’d jinx it, but she’s been dealing with morning sickness for a couple of weeks.”

“You’re lucky, then.”

“I suppose.” As if hearing how the words might have sounded, she shook her head quickly. “It’s not that I want to be sick, of course. I just don’t really feel pregnant, you know? I’ve seen the tests and I saw an ultrasound and heard the heartbeat at this week’s doctor’s appointment, but sometimes it still just doesn’t feel real.”

“I can imagine. Well, not really, because it’s not something I’ll ever experience, obviously, but it must be an odd sensation. You said you saw an ultrasound?”

“Yes. I have the printout at home. It’s pretty cool. Still just a little peanut a couple inches long, which I guess is why I’m not really showing yet, but you can see the little arms and legs and some facial features.”

Another ripple of nerves coursed through him at the thought of actually seeing the baby he planned to raise as his own. “Can you tell yet if it’s a boy or a girl?” Not that it mattered to him.

“No, not yet. I’ll have another ultrasound after twenty weeks and we should be able to tell then.”

“Will you want to know then or would you rather be surprised at delivery?”

She laughed wryly. “I wouldn’t be patient enough to wait that long. It’ll be hard enough waiting until the ultrasound to find out.”

Exactly as he’d have expected from her. And, being the type who always liked to be prepared, he felt the same way. “Have you bought any baby supplies yet?”

“Nothing yet. Except...”

“Except?”

“I bought a night-light shaped like a turtle. It’s made to sit on a table beside the crib. The shell glows and there’s a battery backup that keeps it illuminated even if the power goes out. I was afraid of the dark when I was little, and I thought maybe the baby will be, too.”

Curious, he slanted her a sideways glance. “Are you still afraid of the dark?”

“Sometimes,” she admitted. “I still sleep with a flashlight close at hand.”

That surprised him. He hadn’t thought Stevie was afraid of anything. “Is there a particular reason you’re afraid of the dark?”

She hesitated a minute, then sighed. “I’ve always had that tendency, but it got worse when I was nine and Tom was ten and a half. I had a night-light in my room, but I still got scared when I heard funny noises. I didn’t say much about it because Tom made fun of me, and you know how siblings can be.”

“I was an only child, but I saw enough of my friends’ siblings to get the picture.”

“Anyway, Mom had taken a part-time second job working at a hotel desk in the evenings, earning extra money for Tom to get braces. Mrs. Clausen from next door came over to stay with us on those evenings. One night there was a thunderstorm and the power went out. I woke up in a totally dark room and got scared. I called and called, but no one answered and I was certain I was alone in the house—well, except for maybe the monsters under the bed or in the closet,” she added ruefully.

“Where was Mrs. Clausen?” he asked, caught up in the story.

Stevie gave a low laugh that held little humor. “Stuck in the front bathroom. She got flustered in the dark and couldn’t find the door lock. It was probably no more than minutes before she managed to get to me, but it seemed like hours. I was sobbing hysterically by the time she made her way to me.”

“And your brother?”

“Slept through the whole storm.”

“I’m sure you were frightened. That must have been traumatic for you.”

Her hands fluttered again. “I grew up. Got over it to an extent. I still keep a flashlight on the nightstand, but I’m pretty confident now that there are no monsters under the bed or in the closet.”

“Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it must be a painful memory but it means a lot that you trust me with it.”

She reached over to pat his thigh, her soft laugh more natural this time. “It was just an anecdote, Cole, not a confession to my priest.”

Reaction to that familiar touch surged through him, but he pushed it away. She had a way of gently poking at him when he got too formal and serious. He covered her hand with his and squeezed before gripping the steering wheel again, silently acknowledging he’d gotten the message. Still, he’d meant every word. If he and Stevie were going to make this work, they had to be honest and open with each other.

Stevie drew her hand away and laced her fingers in her lap. Her voice sounded a bit higher-pitched when she said, “Anyway, Mom stopped working nights after that incident. She bought Tom’s braces on a payment plan. Fortunately my teeth were straight.”

He laughed, then asked, “How do you think your mom will feel about becoming a grandmother?”

“She most definitely won’t be a traditional grandma. She’ll wonder why we’re bothering with what she calls ‘the obsolete and unnecessary institution of marriage.’ I’m sure she’ll come see the baby as soon as she can make arrangements. We gathered in Tennessee at my brother’s house for Christmas, but I didn’t know about the pregnancy then—or hadn’t accepted the possibility yet.”

“I’ll bring her here for your due date, if she’d like to be here. You should have your mother with you.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I’ll buy her ticket. I do okay financially, you know. Well enough to live comfortably, if not extravagantly. As I told you, I’m budgeting for my leave time, so...”

Her voice drifted off with another vague gesture of her hands. A very self-sufficient woman, his wife-to-be. That was only one of the many things he admired about her, though he still hoped she’d let him help her out.

He slanted a sideways glance at her. She looked very pretty today. That blue dress was especially flattering with her blond hair and big blue eyes. The soft knit fabric hugged her curves—and for such a petite woman, she had very nice curves. He cleared his throat, shifted in his seat, and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

“I want to buy the kid a stuffed tiger,” he said to distract himself. “Maybe we’ll find one this weekend.”

“A tiger?” Stevie twisted in her seat to look at him.

He nodded. “You had a night-light, I had Stripy. My uncle Bob—my dad’s younger brother—gave him to me when I was four, maybe five. My parents were fighting then, splitting up and getting back together, shuttling me between them and my paternal grandparents. I never knew where I’d be spending the next night or whether my parents would be too quiet or yelling at each other. I started having nightmares, waking up screaming nearly every night. Uncle Bob bought me the tiger to chase away the monsters at night. He was a big Calvin and Hobbes fan. He’d read the comic strips to me from the newspaper.”

“The tiger stopped your nightmares?”

He shrugged. “Didn’t stop them. But when I woke up, Stripy was always there, and it made me feel better. The nightmares stopped after my parents split up for good and we all settled into new, more peaceful routines. I spent most of my childhood on my grandparents’ cattle farm in El Paso, Arkansas, while Mom went back to college. Dad poured his energy into building his car repair business. With the exception of a couple of rocky years, I had a pretty good childhood. But I still have fond memories of Stripy. I think our kid should have one, though I can promise you we’ll never put him—or her—through what my folks did to me. They got married too young, had a baby before they knew what they wanted for themselves. You and I are old enough and realistic enough to avoid all that foolishness.”

“Absolutely,” she said with almost grim determination. “We’ll give him—or her—a stable, safe and secure childhood so he—or she—never has to depend on a night-light or a stuffed toy to chase away the monsters under the bed.”

He frowned for a moment at the road ahead, processing her words as he drove in silence. He knew, of course, that she’d accepted his unexpected proposal for the benefit of her baby, just as the child’s best interests had been a strong consideration for him when he’d offered. But he hoped she didn’t see their marriage as a sacrifice on her part. “I want you to be happy, too, Stevie. We’ll have a good life together. I’ll always be there for you when you need support or encouragement.”

She patted his thigh again, a vaguely unsatisfying gesture this time as it seemed entirely too indulgent. “And when you come back from those dull business trips, Dusty and Li’l Peanut and I will be there to welcome you with hugs and a home-cooked meal.”

“Sounds great,” he said, and meant it. It sounded ideal. He should stop trying to second-guess her thoughts and feelings—he wasn’t good at it, anyway—and just accept his good fortune.

He pushed thoughts of the past away and focused instead on the future. After all, this was the beginning of their life together. He would be spending the weekend with this fascinating, desirable woman...and he planned to make this honeymoon a memory Stevie would always cherish.

Chapter Four

Cole really was an organizational genius, Stevie concluded an hour later. He’d taken care of logistical details for their elopement that hadn’t even yet occurred to her, including the marriage license they dealt with immediately upon their arrival at their wedding destination.

She saw him caught off guard only once during those preparations.

“Stephanie?” he asked in surprise when they’d filled out their license application. “Your full name is Stephanie Joan McLane?”

She wrinkled her nose as she nodded. “Mom named me after Stevie Nicks—whose birth name was Stephanie—and Joan Jett, her two favorite women singers. My brother is Thomas Neil, after Tom Petty and Neil Young. He’s always said it was a good thing Mom wasn’t a country music fan or we might have ended up answering to Dolly and Porter.”

That had made Cole laugh. He had such a rich, deep laugh. She hoped to hear it often during their upcoming years together, she thought wistfully.

The little wedding chapel he’d reserved was close to the state border, only some forty miles from their honeymoon destination of Branson, Missouri. Located in an old, white-frame church with battered but gleaming wood floors and rows of antique oak pews, it was generously, almost overly, decorated with white silk flowers and big red hearts. Romantic instrumental music played from speakers. A portly, sixtysomething officiate with a beatific smile and twinkling eyes welcomed them warmly, introducing himself as Pastor Dave and his equally plump and smiling wife, Luanne.

“You were very lucky we had this slot available today. Valentine’s Day is our most popular day for elopements, you know,” he confided, pumping Cole’s hand and winking at Stevie. “Got five more weddings scheduled before the day’s done.”

Valentine’s Day. Stevie just barely stopped herself from slapping her hands to her cheeks with a gasp. How flustered had she been today that she’d written the date probably half a dozen times without considering the significance? She’d been vaguely aware that the holiday was upon them, of course, but she hadn’t watched much TV or spent much time on social media during the past few busy, emotionally stressful weeks. How on earth had Cole managed to make wedding and honeymoon reservations in less than twenty-four hours for this particular weekend? He’d assured her they would be staying at a very nice hotel and even had tickets to a couple of popular shows.

Watching him slip a couple of bills to their beaming host, she suspected he’d quietly greased a few palms. And he’d done this all for her. She bit her lower lip, then released it immediately to keep from chewing off her freshly applied gloss. She wanted to look nice in the Elite Matrimonial Photo Package Luanne would take with her digital camera.

“Shall we begin?” Pastor Dave waved a hand toward the altar at the front of the little chapel, looking surreptitiously at the antique clock on the wall behind him as he turned. “You requested the nondenominational religious ceremony, is that correct, Mr. McKellar?”

“Yes,” Cole agreed, glancing at Stevie as if for confirmation.

She managed a smile and a nod, resisting an impulse to nervously twist her hair. No second thoughts, she ordered herself. For once in your life, you’re doing the sensible thing.

“Here you go, Miss McLane.” Luanne pressed three long-stemmed red roses tied together with a white satin ribbon in Stevie’s hand, then stepped back to raise her camera. “Give us a big smile, hon.”

The roses were pretty, part of the Special Deluxe Elopement Package. Holding them gently in her left hand, Stevie set her small handbag on a front pew, rummaged in it for a moment, then turned toward her groom. “I’m ready.”

“When I heard your fine Scottish surnames, I chose a special wedding song just for the two of you,” Pastor Dave confided as he moved to the small lectern at the front of the room. He pressed a couple of buttons and after a brief pause, a bagpipe version of Ode to Joy poured from the overhead speakers. Stevie slanted a glance at Cole to find him smiling down at her in a way that almost elicited a completely inappropriate giggle. She heard the click-click of Luanne’s camera as Pastor Dave began his simple ceremony, barely referring to the little book in his hands as he recited words he must have intoned countless times before.