Prognosis: A Baby? Maybe

She’d spent a miserable week confiding in no one, telling herself Ned would come to his senses. Finally she’d dropped by his house. His mother had fixed her with an angry glare.

“He’s gone,” the woman had said. “Don’t ask me where. It’s your fault. He should never have gotten mixed up with a tramp like you.”

Stunned and frightened by the thought of what lay ahead, Heather had cried until her eyes were raw, then gone home and confessed to her parents. Seeing the disappointment in their faces had been almost as bad as experiencing Ned’s betrayal.

Her father, a truck driver, and her mother, a supermarket checker, had always encouraged Heather and her brother to focus on their studies and aim for the stars. News of the pregnancy had hit them hard.

They hadn’t rejected her, though. Their love had made life bearable while she attended an alternative high school and suffered snubs from former friends. When the baby was born, Heather had known she wasn’t prepared to raise a child, so she’d tearfully given her up for adoption. At every point, her parents had delivered their support without question.

“I’ll never let you down again,” she’d told them, and she hadn’t. When she graduated from college, the first person in her family to do so, they’d been thrilled, and she’d been pleased when her brother followed in her footsteps.

Earning her medical degree, although it required financial sacrifices of everyone, had filled them with pride. So had Heather’s brother’s decision to become a police officer.

Over the years, she’d always wondered where her little girl was and hoped she was loved. Although Heather had never doubted the wisdom of her decision, she’d ached for the child she would never see.

A few years ago, she’d signed up with a service that matched parents and birth children, in case her daughter ever wanted to find her. About a year ago, she’d received a call.

Olive’s beloved adoptive parents had died in an accident while she was in college. Engaged to a marine, pregnant and temporarily alone while he served overseas, she’d sought to connect with the woman who’d given birth to her.

As soon as they met, they’d become best friends. From her flashing brown eyes to her sense of humor, Olive seemed like a younger sister. Even the parts of her that came from Ned, like her dark hair and slim build, were a gift, in Heather’s opinion. The man was a fool who’d lost much more than he’d taken.

She could never regret having this daughter and granddaughter, no matter how much they’d cost her. And she knew her parents, who’d met them at Christmas, no longer regretted it, either.

There’d been plenty of speculation at Doctors Circle last fall when Heather, without explanation, took two months leave to coach Olive through the birth and spend time with her afterward. Office gossip attributed her absence to pique at Jason’s appointment, and she’d done nothing to correct the impression. It made as good an excuse as any, since she had no intention of subjecting her painful past to the scrutiny of others.

Afterward, the pair had come to live here while John wrapped up his service. Olive, who’d grown up only an hour’s drive away in Los Angeles, had finished earning her degree at nearby Serene College. This month, she’d taken her last final and completed her work. Soon, John would be returning.

Heather didn’t want to think about how much she was going to miss living with her daughter and granddaughter. Strange as it seemed, she enjoyed having her once-tranquil living room crammed with a playpen and toys and she loved being called Mom, an honor Olive had spontaneously bestowed upon her. She hoped the new family would settle nearby so she could watch every step, literally and figuratively, of Ginger’s development.

“Mom!” Olive sprinted into the living room. “I’m so excited! John wants to get married as soon as he arrives. He can’t bear to wait, and neither can I! We’re going to have our wedding next month.”

“I’m pleased for you.” Relief was Heather’s first reaction. She’d never met her future son-in-law in person, and until now had had only Olive’s assurances that he was loving and rock-solid. Thank goodness John hadn’t turned out to be a cad like Ned.

“It’s been so lonely with him gone, and now we’ll be together all the time.” Joy made Olive shimmer as she sang, “Here comes the bride! Big, fat and wide! Not!”

Despite Heather’s happiness for her daughter, reality intruded. A little less than three weeks. That was all the time they had until John returned.

“How will we ever be able to put a wedding together?” she cried. “Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be a spoilsport and I know Amy managed hers in a week, but I have no idea where to begin.”

Amy and Quent Ladd had married quickly in order to gain custody of his orphaned niece and nephew. They’d been assisted by Amy’s highly capable Aunt Mary, who’d offered the use of her large home for the ceremony and reception. This town home, despite its vaulted ceiling and graceful design, wasn’t nearly big enough, in Heather’s opinion.

“You’re such a worrier,” chortled her daughter. “We’re going to get married at a Las Vegas wedding chapel. The only guests will be you and John’s parents from Texas. You’ll bring the baby home and watch her for me during our honeymoon, won’t you? We’re going to celebrate right there in Vegas.”

“Of course,” Heather said.

Olive performed an impromptu dance that made Ginger laugh. “Your daddy’s coming home! I’m going to be a bride!”

“You need a dress,” Heather said.

“John told me to pick out a ring, too.” Olive started for the kitchen again.

“Where are you going?”

“To call my friend Julia to help me shop. I know how impatient you get in stores,” her daughter said. “Don’t argue. I’ll let you see what I choose before I make the final decision, okay?”

“All right.” Despite her sense that the mother of the bride ought to have a finger in every pie, Heather knew that after one hour in the mall, she’d start tapping her foot and biting her nails. “Leave the baby with me while you shop.”

“Julia would have a fit. She’s always complaining that she doesn’t get to spend enough time with Ginger.”

“Babies don’t make good shopping companions. She’ll get restless,” Heather warned.

“We’ll take lots of breaks,” Olive said. “Don’t fuss over me, Mom. Not that I really mind. Gosh, you’re so much like my mama used to be, I almost feel like she’s here.”

“I’m sure she is.” Heather felt a deep gratitude to the woman who’d raised Olive. “She’ll always be here in your heart.”

Her daughter’s eyes got suspiciously bright. She hurried to stuff supplies into the diaper bag. By the time she whisked Ginger out the door, Olive was dry-eyed and eager to look for a gown.

After the door closed, the two most precious people in Heather’s life were gone, if only for a little while. The sparkle vanished from the air.

“So this is what empty-nest syndrome feels like,” she told the silent house. “It’s not as if I’d spent twenty years being a mother. I shouldn’t make such a big deal of it.”

With a sigh, she bent to pick up the scattered toys that had accumulated on the carpet along with bits of lint and shreds of paper. They must be transporting themselves here from an alternate universe, because Heather had never figured out where all this stuff came from.

The doorbell rang. Olive had forgotten something, which wasn’t surprising in view of her rush. Pushing a flyaway strand of hair from her forehead, Heather went to answer the door.

The dark-haired man who filled the doorway regarded her with amused curiosity. “Just getting up, at this hour?” he asked.

Uncomfortably, Heather realized what a picture she must make. After rising early to feed Ginger while Olive slept, she’d showered and thrown on a sweatsuit that resembled pajamas. Although she’d brushed her hair, that was many hours and diaper changes ago.

Jason, by contrast, looked as if he’d strolled out of a magazine ad. It was positively indecent the way his polo shirt stretched across his broad chest and his jeans hung low across his hips. It looked as if one tweak would be enough to make the snap give way.

Stop thinking like that! “I’m getting a head start on my spring cleaning,” Heather improvised. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m house-hunting and got curious about where you lived.” With a swift motion, he plucked a wisp of paper from her hair. “Did you hold a confetti parade through your premises this morning?” He peered past her into the entryway.

With a jolt, Heather realized that if she opened the door any further, he’d see the playpen in the living room and the high chair visible through the doorway in the kitchen. Not to mention assorted toys and parenting magazines.

“Yes, I had a parade, and that’s why you can’t come in,” she said tartly. “There’s horse poop everywhere.”

Jason’s smile turned into a grimace. “That’s the weirdest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“For what?”

“For keeping me out.”

“Women make a lot of excuses for keeping you out, do they?” Heather said. “The truth is, as you can see, I’m in no shape to receive company.”

He composed his features into a semblance of injured innocence. “I’m simply looking for ideas about what kind of place to rent.”

“That’s easy. Don’t rent, buy,” Heather said. “That’s what I’m going to do as soon as I save the down payment.” If she hadn’t been repaying student loans until the previous year, she’d have purchased a house long ago.

“If you’re planning to close the door on my foot, it won’t work,” Jason said. “I’m wearing heavy shoes.”

“Why would I need to close the door on your foot, since you’re going away?”

He edged closer. “I just want to take a look at the layout of your town house. I’ve been thinking of renting here in the development.”

Dismay squeezed the air from Heather’s lungs. Jason, living in her complex? That would mean running into each other at the mailboxes and the pool. He’d see her in her bikini. What was worse, he’d see Olive and Ginger.

“You’d hate it,” she said. “It’s noisy.”

“It seems quiet today.” Sure enough, the only sounds were birds twittering in a tree and the hum of a car passing on the street. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Dropping the noise angle, Heather shifted to a more promising topic. “You should check out the area where Amy and Quent Ladd live, near the beach. It’s much more suitable for a single person.”

“Why don’t you live there?” he asked.

“Because I’m stuffy and conventional.” This wasn’t working, she could tell by his stubborn stance. “I’ll tell you what. Wait out there while I change, and I’ll take you to meet the manager. I’m sure she’d be happy to…”

He’d leaned a bit too far toward her. Even a strong guy like Jason could only challenge gravity so far before he lost his balance, and at the merest bump from his strong shoulder, Heather staggered backward. The door swung wider.

“I’m sorry.” Jason grabbed her arm in time to prevent a tumble. “I’m not usually this clumsy.” His head came up as he took in the contents of the room. There was a long, contemplative pause. “When did you start running a day-care center?”

“Believe it or not, one baby created all this mess. My niece and her daughter are visiting.” Heather hated to lie, but if there was anyone she didn’t choose to bare her soul to, it was Jason Carmichael. Especially after that comment about how Cynthia should have known better than to get pregnant out of wedlock.

“Great architecture.” Apparently accepting her explanation, he indicated the high ceiling and open staircase. “How’s the construction?”

On the verge of praising it, she remembered her goal of discouraging him from renting in the complex. “The upstairs bathroom tilts. There are cracks in the walls, too.” That was true, more or less. Practically every wall in Southern California had a few cosmetic cracks, thanks to the occasional earthquakes.

“There’s got to be some reason you chose to live here,” he said.

Darn the man, why did he insist on questioning her so closely? He took far too great an interest in Heather’s home for her comfort.

“I’ll show you,” she said, deciding openness was the only way to satisfy his curiosity. “Follow me.”

She led him through the living room. The angles and sightlines felt different when she tried to regard them from Jason’s point of view. Or perhaps it was his thoroughly male, keenly inquisitive presence that changed everything.

He radiated a subtle energy, a vibration that filled the town house. Heather battled the instinct to touch him. In spite of herself, she knew where that could lead and wasn’t absolutely certain she’d be able to stop.

In the kitchen, Jason’s eyebrows rose at the sight of the high chair. “Your niece brought a lot of equipment for a visit.”

“She’s staying with me while she finishes college,” Heather clarified. On the point of mentioning that Olive was getting married next month, she stopped. Guilty people gave themselves away by prattling too much, and the more she talked, the more suspicious he was likely to become.

“You’re a gracious aunt to put up with all this mess,” he said.

Heather’s gaze traveled across the unwashed dishes on the counter to a bib smeared with breakfast food. She supposed it was disorderly from the point of view of a man who had only himself to care for. Until this moment, she’d hardly noticed. “I don’t mind. It’s only temporary.”

“At least the kitchen is a good size,” he said approvingly.

Heather tried to find some flaw to point out, but failed. Reaching the glass door, she slid it open and stepped onto the enclosed patio. “This is the reason I rented the place.” She indicated a small flowerbed bursting with cool-weather flowers suitable for a Southern California winter.

“It’s very pretty. You like to garden?” Jason asked.

“I’d love to have a whole yard full of flowers.” Heather’s mind painted the scene as she spoke. “Rose bushes in every corner and climbing on a trellis. I want enough blooms for cutting and the air filled with old-fashioned perfume.”

“You’ve got it planned out, I see.” Jason edged away, or perhaps he was turning to examine a potted coleus. “I can’t imagine where you find the time.”

“Gardening’s restful,” Heather said. “Digging in the dirt settles my mind.”

His teasing manner of a few minutes ago disappeared. “It looks to me like a lot of effort for a place you’re going to leave behind eventually.” Heather could have sworn she saw disapproval in the way he regarded the rioting flowerbed.

“Sticking a few bedding plants into the ground isn’t exactly a lifetime commitment,” she said. “Besides, these are annual flowers. They have to be replaced a couple of times a year in any case.”

“Suit yourself,” Jason said.

She couldn’t resist teasing him. “If you decide to lease a unit, I’ll be glad to offer you tips. You might become a real aficionado.”

“I can’t imagine investing that much effort in something I’m going to leave behind,” Jason answered. “It’s a waste of effort.”

“How soon are you planning to move on?” Heather leaned down and yanked a weed.

In the midday light, Jason’s green eyes took on a hard emerald gloss. “Not soon, of course, but let’s be honest. Although heading this clinic is a terrific opportunity, I don’t picture myself sticking around forever.”

“No roses and no roots,” Heather said. “How sad.”

Jason shrugged. “A house is just a place.”

She imagined him as an old man, living in Spartan quarters, still refusing to commit himself to anything beyond his profession. Feeling a pinch of regret, she conceded silently that, without meaning to, she’d begun to picture Jason in a romantic light. The man was so darn handsome, and the way he moved sent shivers down her spine.

She ought to know better. Thank goodness he’d brought her up short today. There were good men in the world, such as her friends’ husbands, but they were few and far between. Too many were like Ned, quick to promise the moon and ready to run when a woman needed them.

Or like Jason, who valued only the professional side of himself. There was no point in arguing with him. The man was as set in his ways as concrete.

After dusting off her hands, Heather took him back inside. “I’d show you the bedrooms but they’re in worse shape than the kitchen.”

A subdued Jason didn’t press the point. “Thanks for the tour. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“Good luck finding a place to live.” Although it might be unwise, she found herself adding, “Did you decide against renting a town house?”

“It’s a bit large for a single guy. I wouldn’t want to inadvertently encourage any relatives to move in with me, particularly ones with babies,” he said, and let himself out.

Maybe he was joking, but Heather didn’t find the remark funny. She was tempted to throw one of Ginger’s toys at his retreating back.

She couldn’t imagine why she’d ever allowed herself to be attracted to that stuffed shirt. Okay, Jason could be charming when he turned the frost level down to low, but with him, as with most men she’d met, you never knew when you were going to get a blast of arctic air in the face.

Well, Heather had better things to do with her Saturday than stand here hurling mental insults at Jason Carmichael. Even a woman with a limited attention span for mall shopping could help her daughter get married.

She switched on her computer, logged on to the Internet and cruised the wedding-related websites, bookmarking pages with gowns she thought Olive might like. Being the mother of the bride provided a lot more satisfaction than she’d ever found or ever expected to find with a man.

Chapter Four

The three puppies wiggled in their basket, barking excitedly and trying to pour over the edges. Two little boys whom Jason guessed to be about six and eight kept stuffing them back inside.

“Hi, there.” He crouched on the walkway and scratched each set of floppy ears in turn. Eager pink tongues swiped his hand and one pup, a shaggy black-and-tan shepherd mix, leaped as if trying to land in his lap.

“You want one, mister? They’re ten dollars.” The older boy pointed at a hand-lettered sign for confirmation. “Our mom says we can’t keep them.”

“Neither can I, I’m afraid.” After spending Saturday and most of today exhausting rental possibilities, Jason had returned to Heather’s development in earnest a short time earlier. Yesterday, he’d been so put off by the notion of nesting that he’d ignored a sign at the manager’s office advertising a unit for rent. He hadn’t forgotten about it, though.

By comparison to everything else he’d seen, he’d found the empty town house to his liking. Located halfway across the complex from Heather’s, it featured a similar layout and came furnished. The only vegetation on its patio was a ficus tree watered through an automatic system.

Jason had signed up immediately. The month-to-month lease meant that if he found something he liked better, he was free to move. Because of the location, there was no reason for him and Heather to get in each other’s way, and he appreciated the peace and quiet.

The one drawback was that renters weren’t allowed to have pets. The manager had explained that owner-occupants could keep animals as long as they didn’t allow them to run loose. The boys’ family must be owners, Jason thought.

“That’s Frodo. He’s my favorite.” The younger boy indicated the black-and-tan pup, whose tail was wagging so hard that Jason half expected it to propel its owner into the air.

“I can’t have a dog because I’m renting,” he said.

The older boy’s face scrunched. “What’s the use of being a grown-up if you can’t have a dog?”

“Good point.” Jason got to his feet. “I hope you find homes for them.”

“Thanks,” they chorused.

What was the use of being a grown-up if you couldn’t have a puppy or roses or any other reasonable thing that you wanted? he mused. It was an internal discussion that would have surprised Heather Rourke, Jason supposed.

He’d certainly bristled when she’d showed him her flower garden. Its blooming lushness had filled his senses with perfume and his soul with an intense yearning. For what, he wasn’t sure, but he’d yanked himself back to reality in a big hurry.

As he strolled around the complex to check out its amenities, Jason wondered if he would ever feel ready to settle down in one place or with one woman. He didn’t believe in love sweeping people off their feet, though, especially not a scientist like him. Some guys weren’t cut out to be husbands, and he was one of them.

He tried to remember what impulse had prompted him to get engaged during his residency. He’d met Eileen, a law student at Boston University, through family friends. They’d had a lot in common, including busy schedules, a taste for Greek food and a love of jazz. Eileen had understood about Jason’s long hours and seemed to share his vision of a future devoted to becoming among the best in their fields.

Somewhere along the line, the subject of marriage had come up. Knowing that he needed a wife with similar goals and attitudes, Jason had fallen in with the idea. Both of them agreed that they wanted to work the long hours required by their professions, with children postponed indefinitely.

He tensed as he recalled his last year of residency. During a difficult period, he’d driven himself harder and, he knew, become snappish to those around him. Perversely, Eileen had chosen that time to press him to set a date for their wedding.

He’d told her frankly that he couldn’t handle getting married right then and needed the freedom to relocate if necessary. Her response had been tears and nagging. Jason knew he should have tried to understand, but he hadn’t possessed the energy to deal with her. When a prominent institution in England invited him to pursue his work there after completing his residency, he’d ended his engagement and removed himself from the situation.

Later, through friends, he’d learned that Eileen had planned to drop out of law school and didn’t want a demanding career. She wasn’t crazy about Greek food or jazz, either. Their relationship had been built on her molding herself to suit him, without his realizing it. Perhaps she hadn’t been honest with herself about what she was doing, either.

Although Jason regretted having disappointed her, marriage would have been a huge mistake. Perhaps that was why he’d reacted so strongly to the flowers yesterday. Subconsciously, he’d pegged Heather as being dedicated to her work, and it disturbed him to discover that at heart what she wanted was the whole picket-fence, rose-trellis scenario. Just like Eileen.

Seeing the playpen and toys in her living room had given him a start, too. Oddly, Jason had found them kind of appealing, although he was relieved to know they belonged to Heather’s niece.

Babies were cute. So were little boys like the pair with the puppies. Their dad probably loved taking them to ball games and playing on the beach with them. Someday, Jason supposed, he might want kids of his own. Someday, like in another ten years.

Lost in thought, he didn’t realize he was passing Heather’s unit until he saw her standing in front, trimming dead blossoms from an azalea. In a tan T-shirt and beige jeans, she was shapely enough to catch any man’s eye.

When she caught sight of Jason, her hand jerked and she mangled a branch. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m glad to see you, too,” he said.

Heather ducked her head, acknowledging the veiled complaint. “You’re right. It’s nice to see you again, Dr. Carmichael. Did you have some questions about the care and feeding of rose bushes?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said. “If you see me traipsing by later with my arms full, you can lend a hand if you care to.”

Her half smile shaded into a frown. “You rented a place?”

He shrugged. “Serene Beach turns out not to have a very big supply of available housing.”