Heard It Through the Grapevine

Blue? he thought numbly. “Blue’s bad?”

She nodded hopelessly. “If you’re not finished with college, not married, don’t have a lot of money and your father happens to be a minister, then…yes, blue’s bad.”

Chapter Two

Cathie stood there waiting for him to say something, still hardly able to believe he was here.

One minute, she’d been staring guiltily at the Box and the next, the doorbell had rung. She’d hastily shoved the Box in a drawer, and there was Matt. As if she’d conjured him up out of thin air. As if she’d asked, and the man upstairs had chosen to deliver Matt.

Cathie fought the urge to go stare up into the sky and say, Excuse me? What is he doing here?

Obviously, someone had gotten their wires crossed.

Matt didn’t even want to be in the same room with her.

All because she’d fallen for him ages ago and then thrown herself at him, when he didn’t want her at all. Which was just about the stupidest thing a woman could do.

Okay, not as stupid as getting pregnant when she hadn’t finished college and wasn’t married. But that night with Matt ranked right up there on her list of all-time stupid moves. She hadn’t wanted to come here to college because he lived in the same town. But the university had offered her the best financial aid package, and she’d needed all the help she could get.

Cathie hadn’t chased after him in years, but darned if she didn’t still compare every man she’d ever met to him. Even Tim. If she was honest, she’d admit that Tim reminded her the least little bit of Matt.

“So,” Matt said finally. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” Cathie, the girl who always had a plan, said. “I just found out, and I’m still trying to make myself believe that it’s real. That it’s happening to me.”

“Do you want to marry this guy?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Though it would make her humiliation complete, she admitted, “I’m not sure it matters. I’m afraid he won’t want to marry me.”

Beside her, Matt stiffened, a mixture of disbelief, surprise and then anger washing across his face. For a minute, she thought he was going to ask the same question she’d been asking herself in the hours since the stick turned blue. Why in the world was she sleeping with a man who wouldn’t marry her if she was pregnant with his child?

“He’s…uh.” She closed her eyes and forced herself to start again. “He’s been different the last few weeks. A little…distant, maybe? Distracted. Impatient.”

Through clenched teeth, Matt said, “Why?”

“I don’t know.” Around the same time she noted subtle changes in her body that warned her something was wrong, she’d discovered an alarming number of doubts about Tim.

Matt, the tough guy of old wrapped in a thousand-dollar suit and still looking only faintly civilized, said, “Do you want me to talk to this guy for you?”

“You’re starting to sound like one of my brothers again.”

He swore softly. “I’m not one of your brothers.”

“I know.” She risked another glance in his direction. When she was a little girl, she’d look at him and think he was a wild thing she was going to tame. Like a pup who’d been kicked too many times, always waiting on someone to turn on him.

Cathie had followed him everywhere when he’d first come to live with her parents. She’d watched him with a kind of fascination as he warily watched her in return. She’d smile and he’d frown. She’d laugh and he’d put that same scowl on his face she’d seen tonight, the one that said she was getting to him.

Closing her eyes, she let herself remember, just a bit, her and Matt together. God, she thought breathlessly, how she’d missed that boy. Of course, God already knew. She’d certainly told him often enough, back in the days when she was trying to talk him into bringing Matt back to her. She hadn’t done that in years and fought the urge to pull out her Box and say very emphatically that he was not what she had in mind when she asked for help.

Still, she missed him so much, the lost boy who’d become her best friend. She’d seen more of him tonight than she had in years.

For just a moment, she let herself imagine a wild-eyed black knight coming to her rescue, making everything right somehow.

“What?” Matt growled, staring at her through midnight-colored eyes.

She shook her head and tried to smile, feeling hopelessly sentimental about a relationship she feared meant next to nothing to him. She, on the other hand, needed nothing more than the slightest touch of his fingertips to her cheek to know that she was every bit as attracted to the man as she’d once been to the boy. The awful part was that neither the boy nor the man had wanted her.

And now she feared she was in the same shape—no, worse—with another man she feared wouldn’t want her or her baby. Obviously, there was a pattern here she should probably figure out, so she didn’t keep repeating this same mistake.

“Cathie—”

“Sorry. I was just thinking. And wondering…why did you come here tonight?”

“I wasn’t going to,” he said. “Mary asked me to come by tomorrow, but I had a meeting tonight. When I got done, I wasn’t too far from here, and…I don’t know. Something just told me this might be a problem that shouldn’t wait. Why?”

She frowned. Something just told him?

“No reason,” she lied. No way she was explaining what she’d done to him.

“Cathie, why don’t you let me talk to this guy for you?”

Sure. He and Tim could compare notes. Why didn’t you want Cathie? Really? Me, either. She groaned, feeling sick suddenly and swayed on her feet.

“Easy.” Matt’s hand shot out to grab her. “I’ve got you. Need to sit?”

She nodded, letting herself lean on him as he steered her to the sofa.

“Better?” he asked once she was sitting.

“Yes. Thank you.” She had to get him out of here. Fast. He’d seen enough of this little drama that was her life. “And I appreciate the offer, about Tim, but I have to tell him myself. And my mother. My brothers. My father. They’re going to be so disappointed. Matt, I don’t think I’ve ever disappointed them. My father counsels teenagers at the community center on being responsible and careful. How is it going to look when his own daughter ends up pregnant and all alone? And to his congregation? I know some of them will give him grief over this. Plus his heart is…I don’t know. He hasn’t admitted it to me, but something’s going on. He was so sick before. We almost lost him. I don’t want him worrying over me, and for this, he’ll worry night and day.”

Utterly miserable, she stared up at Matt. He couldn’t have surprised her more when he sat down beside her and put his arm along the back of the sofa, motioning her closer. “C’mere, Cath.”

She hesitated, knowing she should not let herself get too close. But she needed him so badly right now. “Just for a minute?”

“Whatever it takes,” he said, his gaze steady and sure.

Cathie let herself lean against him a little, slipping progressively closer until her face was buried in the warm curve of his shoulder and his arms were clamped tightly around her. A long, deep shiver ran through her—her last-ditch effort at control. And then she was lost, just melting into the heat and the rock-solid strength of him.

With her face pressed against his neck, with every breath she took, she inhaled a bit more of the essence of him—something dark and dangerous and, after all these years, blessedly familiar. One of his hands stroked her hair tenderly. The other gently kneaded the knot of tension at the base of her spine. She gave up any hope of holding her tears in any longer. He pulled her closer and held on tighter, as if he might be able to hold her tightly enough to stop her body from trembling so badly.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered.

She didn’t believe that, but it was nice to have him hold her this way. She stayed there for the longest time, feeling safe and not so very hopeless. When she lifted her head, she found his face only inches from hers.

Deep, blue eyes, so familiar and flecked with gold, stared down at her, his jaw set in a grim line. His hair was shorter than it had been as a teenager, but still as dark, and, if anything, his body was even leaner and more powerful. It was so easy to find herself caught up in that old familiar spell that was Matt.

His hand settled against the side of her face. Carefully, gently, he wiped the tears from her cheeks in a touch that was so sweet, so tender.

Just for a moment, something flared in his eyes. If he’d been any other man, she would have sworn he was about to kiss her—the way a man kisses a woman he desires. And then, as she watched, the look drained away. Every little spark simply disappeared.

Unnerved, Cathie pulled away. Because she wasn’t sure her legs could hold her, she didn’t even try to stand. Instead, she scrambled to the opposite end of the couch. Drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her legs, she watched him as he watched her.

There were new lines of tension at the corners of those beautiful eyes of his, not even a hint of a smile on his lips. But she could say with absolute certainty that he was every bit as gorgeous at thirty as he had been at fifteen, nineteen, twenty-one, twenty-seven. Not that it mattered. He was simply being kind to her, and she was carrying another man’s child.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally.

“It’s all right,” he insisted. “Look, Cathie, there’s no place I have to be tonight. I could stay a while.”

“Thanks, but I have to make some decisions, and I have to talk to Tim.”

“All right.” Looking uncharacteristically uncertain, he stood up and headed for the door. “If you need anything…” he said roughly.

And then Cathie couldn’t even look him in the eye anymore. If she did, she’d take him up on his offer and ask him to stay. She felt like such a fool.

“I really don’t want to leave you like this,” Matt said, sounding like her prickly lost boy, put out with her but, at the same time, still trying to take care of her.

“I’ll be fine. I’m going to go to bed and hope I can figure some things out in the morning.”

“Okay. I’ll stall if your mother calls.”

“Please. I’ll call her tomorrow. Or I’ll go see her and Dad.”

With the front door open, he hesitated once again. “Cathie, anything. I mean that.” Matt squeezed her hand one last time, released it, then turned and disappeared into the night.

He was almost home when the phone in his car rang. He snatched it up, thinking Cathie might be calling. “Hello.”

“Matt? Hi. This is Mary. I’m sorry to bother you, dear, and I know you think I’m just a silly old woman who’s much too protective of her daughter….”

“You’ve always been a bother,” he said, trying to make light of this while he decided how much to tell her. “But I don’t think you’re silly, and you’ll never be old.”

“Thank you, dear. I notice you have the tact not to mention my overprotectiveness, and I appreciate that. I don’t suppose you know how my girl is?”

He closed his eyes and wrestled with his conscience. Cathie had a right to explain herself when she was ready. Still, Matt genuinely liked Mary Baldwin, and he didn’t want to lie to her.

“I saw her, and you’re right. She has some things on her mind right now.”

“Things she can’t talk about with her own mother? Matt, is she in trouble?”

“She has some decisions to make, and I’m sure she’s going to talk to you about this, as soon as she figures it out for herself. Mary, please don’t ask me for any more.”

Mary let out a long, slow breath. “Maybe I should drive down there tonight.”

That would work. Especially if it meant Cathie didn’t end up in his arms again. That had been sheer impulse, one that came from his time with the Baldwins. They were a family of touchers. Bear hugs. Kisses. Arms around each other’s shoulders. It was as natural to them as it was for Matt to hold himself apart from everyone. They seemed to have latched on to him in a way he just didn’t understand, and they’d never truly let go. They’d take care of Cathie now.

Still, she’d asked for his help, and he’d promised to try to stall.

“Mary, it’s late,” he reasoned. “Cathie said she’d call you tomorrow, and I told her if she needs anything from me, all she has to do is call.”

“Thank you, dear. If she had to be so far away from home, I feel better knowing you’re close by.”

Not close enough, he thought, feeling guilty that he’d kept his distance while some jerk was taking advantage of her. “She’s special, Mary.”

“I know, dear. She’s a wonderful girl, and I’m very proud of her. Still, I can’t help but worry. She’s always been too trusting for her own good.”

“Yes, she is.” That had to be the problem. She’d trusted the wrong man.

“Matt, we miss you, too. Christmas is coming. All the boys are going to be home this year, and we’d love to have you. And don’t tell me you’re too busy. You have to take some time off every now and then.”

Matt shook his head. No surprise here that Mary would go from mothering Cathie to trying to mother him. No one had ever really done that for him, except Mary. His own mother and father had gotten together when they were far too young, a quick, stormy relationship that had burned out long before Matt had come along. His father liked to go out and have a good time. He drank too much and got into arguments he tended to settle with his fists, or something worse. His mother drank to forget everything, including Matt. He’d been more of a hassle to her than anything else. By the time he was eight, he was roaming the streets, taking care of himself. By the time he was thirteen, he was living on those same streets after his mother kicked him out.

Not that any of that mattered anymore.

“I am planning some time away from the office,” he admitted. Honestly, he couldn’t remember where he decided to go. He recalled pointing to something from an array of brochures and leaving the details to his travel agent.

“Christmas is a time for family,” Mary argued. “Promise me you’ll think about coming here?”

“All right.” He’d think about it. He just wouldn’t go.

“You can’t run from us forever. Sooner or later you’re going to come home.”

“Mary—” he began.

“I’ll be waiting for your call. Bye, Matt.”

With that, she was gone, still able to outmaneuver him as neatly as always. He remembered standing in her kitchen his first morning there, cussing like a sailor, thinking to shock her, to make her turn her back on him, as everyone else had.

He soon learned that Mary didn’t shock easily, and she didn’t get flustered, no matter how filthy his language was. She’d used the same tone with him fifteen years ago, kindhearted, a bit bossy, but polite, as if he’d shown her the same courtesy she showed him. Then she’d smiled and proceeded to steamroll right over him, quietly making her wishes known, until somehow he’d decided he’d be better off doing what she suggested in the first place.

If that tactic didn’t work, shame did. She could make him feel like dirt without so much as lifting a finger. It was all in her eyes and the tone of her voice. No matter what he did wrong, she’d find out eventually. And she’d be hurt, as if she’d somehow failed him and not the other way around. She’d look at him and he could all but hear the words going through her head. What am I going to do with you, Matt? What have I done wrong that I can’t reach you?

Before long, she’d become his conscience. Even if he didn’t care what happened to himself, Mary did. Matt didn’t want to disappoint her. It became a litmus test for him. If I do this, what’s Mary going to think? What’s she going to say?

For the first time, he stopped to think before he shot off his mouth or let fly with his fists. With Mary on one side of him and Cathie on the other, he hadn’t stood a chance. Before they were done, he’d taken a long, hard look at himself and his life, figured out that there comes a time when it doesn’t really matter how screwed up anyone’s parents were. Maybe the world had dealt him a lousy hand, but lots of kids grew up without anyone who gave a damn about them. In the end, it was what he chose to do with his life that counted. Once he realized that, Matt had done surprisingly well for himself. He had a gift for numbers, something Cathie’s father had picked up on right away, and they’d no doubt called in some favors to get him admitted to the university here and to help get him a scholarship.

He had more money than he knew what to do with now, a company of his own that specialized in providing security for financial transactions over the Internet, a huge house, a car that positively reeked of money. He worked hard, and played just as hard when the notion struck him, which it seldom did.

He still couldn’t lie to himself well enough to say he was happy. It had all failed to satisfy him for some reason.

Matt eased back into the soft leather seat of his car and stared into the night.

As always, when he arrived at home, the place was dark and silent. He didn’t really want to go inside, which was ridiculous given what he’d paid for the place. It was too big for him and had never felt like a home. Tonight, it seemed worse than usual. Because his mind was on another house, an old one in the mountains, crammed to the rafters with people and laughter. With a sense of permanence. Of family.

Matt still remembered how it felt, living in the midst of the Baldwin clan. Their house had never been quiet or empty.

Shoving the memories aside, he pulled the car into the garage and walked into the kitchen, losing his keys, his wallet and his tie as he went. Upstairs in his bedroom, he kicked off his shoes and started working on the buttons of his shirt, the eerie quiet getting louder and louder with every passing minute.

Maybe what he needed was a woman. Someone to come home to, to fill the empty rooms and chase away the silence.

Glancing across the room at the big, wide bed, he imagined her waiting there for him on the nights when he came home really late. She’d have pillows propped against the headboard, one small light burning on the bedside table, a book in her lap.

Her hair would be long and loose, the light from the lamp glinting off of it. In his mind’s eye, he could see it so clearly, the image as enticing as any dream he’d ever had.

The woman lifted her head, smiled at him and held out her arms to him.

Cathie, he realized.

He was thinking of Cathie in his bed.

Matt knew what he had to do. He had to help her and then forget about her. He sure wasn’t letting her anywhere near his bed, even in his imagination.

There had to be a way to help.

It turned out to be so simple, he couldn’t believe it took him so long.

Money.

He had plenty, and she didn’t. She’d have doctor bills, tuition, child care, rent, utilities, diapers, all kinds of stuff. He wanted her out of that lousy neighborhood, too. Matt could do all that. She wouldn’t like it, but he simply wouldn’t take no for an answer this time. If her father hadn’t refused his help when Jim Baldwin had been so ill, Cathie would have finished college by now and maybe even been married. A baby wouldn’t have been a problem.

Matt was back on her doorstep shortly after eight the next morning, telling himself money was the answer. It was easy, too. He could write a check. He wouldn’t even have to see her again. Money. He was excited for the first time in years that he had so much of it.

Cathie opened the door wearing a pair of pale yellow, cottony pajamas. “Hi.”

She looked soft and rumpled, cold and dangerously touchable. Her hair was loose and falling around her shoulders, her eyes puffy and red and sad, and it seemed she’d come straight from her bed. He stared. She folded her arms across her breasts, as if to hide herself as best she could. He really had to stop thinking about her this way.

“When I heard the knock, I was sure my mother was here,” she said, stepping back to let him inside.

“I stalled as best I could, but it’s not going to work for long.”

“So, she’s on her way? Or is she waiting for you to report back to her?”

“She’s supposed to wait for you to call, but you know your mother.”

Matt wanted to know what her boyfriend said when she’d told him the news, wanted to know if she’d come to any decisions. But she looked like a stiff breeze could knock her over this morning, and he didn’t want to push.

“Have you had anything to eat?”

“No,” she admitted, wrapping herself up in a sweater that was thrown over the back of the sofa.

Good, he thought. Cover up.

“We could go get some breakfast,” he suggested. Get out of this apartment. Go somewhere they wouldn’t be alone.

“Matt, you don’t have to do this,” she said, a hurt look in her eyes that always managed to cut him to pieces. “I mean, I know my mother harasses you until you show up here.”

“She has. But she’s not the reason I’m here right now.”

Cathie frowned. He thought they were probably going to argue some more about his motives, when all he wanted was to keep her from kicking him out and to find out what that idiot who’d gotten her pregnant had said.

“Come on. I’m here. I’m hungry. You’re awake now. You’ve got to eat. I could cook something while you grab a shower and get dressed.”

Please, he thought, seeing bare feet and delicate pink-tinted toenails, get dressed.

She didn’t move. He could hear the faint sound of her breathing. Finally, she said, “You don’t even like me anymore.”

“Cathie.” He closed his eyes, simply unable to take the hurt he saw in her face. “I have never disliked you. Never even come close.”

Tears were glistening in her eyes the next time he looked up, and he wasn’t sure she believed him. “You thought I was a pest. You always did.”

“You were a pest.” He laughed, couldn’t hold it in. The memories were too strong. “You absolutely baffled me. Why in the world would a little girl like you give a damn about me? If you had any sense at all, you would have been scared of me and stayed away. Hell, if your whole family had any sense, they would have never let me inside your house.”

“You didn’t turn out so bad,” she said softly.

“Neither did you, Cath. Honestly, I never disliked you. Can you trust me about that, at least?” She considered him warily from across the room. “Humor me, okay? Get dressed. Let me feed you. Then, if you still want me out of here, I’ll go.”

“Promise?”

He frowned. “Do I have to promise?”

“Matt!”

“Okay.” That was a lie. He felt absolutely no guilt in telling it, not now that she needed him. It had always been her and her family doing so much for him, and him thinking he had nothing to give them in return.

Not that he’d ever have wished a situation like this on her. But still, the situation was what it was. She needed help, and he could give it to her.

“I know it’s hard,” he said. “To be in trouble and let someone help you. I’ve always wondered—why’d you do that for me? Why didn’t you give up on me and leave me alone?”

“I just couldn’t.”

He nodded, understanding exactly. “Do me a favor, Cath. Don’t make it as hard for me to help you as I made it for you to help me.”

She was quiet for a long time. It left him feeling edgy, like he might just do something crazy before he got out of here. She’d always made him a little crazy.

“Why did you come here this morning?” she asked finally.

Neatly trapped and unwilling to lie about this, he confessed. “I came to offer you money.”

She looked hurt. “It’s not that simple.”

“I know.” Too late, he saw that writing a check just wasn’t going to cut it.

Chapter Three

Cathie hid in her bathroom for what had to be the longest shower on record, finally emerging in a cloud of steam. In her tiny bedroom, she tugged on a pair of jeans and a white blouse. While she was buttoning her blouse, she found herself staring at the Box, which now sat on her dresser.