The Pregnancy Plan / Hope's Child: The Pregnancy Plan / Hope's Child

Until there was nothing but the two of them.

Until Maddie broke the silence by asking for juice.

Ashley blinked and looked away, and the moment was gone.

Something had happened between them at Eagle Point Park. Ashley wasn’t exactly sure what, except that something had changed. Until that moment, she’d managed to convince herself that the feelings she had for Cameron were only remnants of a long-ago attraction. And maybe there were still remnants of that attraction, but there were also new feelings stirring inside of her. Stronger and deeper feelings that she’d managed to ignore because they were only her feelings.

In the space of a heartbeat, with the heat of just one look, Cam decimated that belief. And the realization that there was still a connection between them, a simmering awareness that pulled at both of them, terrified her.

So when Maddie approached her desk at the end of the day on Monday, it was an effort to smile, to pretend that everything was the same. And then the child’s question shattered even that illusion.

“Are you dating my daddy?”

The marker Ashley had been using to prepare a math chart for the next day’s lesson slipped from her fingers.

She bent to retrieve it, wishing she could pick up an easy answer to the little girl’s inquiry at the same time. Instead, she responded with a question of her own. “Why would you ask something like that?”

“Because I told Victoria that we went on a picnic on Saturday and she said that you must be dating my daddy and maybe you would marry him and be my new mommy.”

She had worried that agreeing to go on a picnic with Cam and Maddie was a bad idea—she just hadn’t known how bad. And the desperate yearning in the little girl’s big green eyes nearly broke her heart.

Ashley carefully recapped the marker and set it aside so she could give Maddie her full attention.

“I’m not dating your daddy,” she said gently. “But he and I are old friends and you and I are new friends, and friends spend time together.”

The light in Maddie’s eyes dimmed. “So you’re not going to marry him?”

“No.” She swallowed. “I’m not going to marry him.”

“But if you’re friends, you must like him,” she insisted, with the unequivocal reasoning of a first grader. “And if you like him, then you should marry him.”

“Lots of people like one another without getting married.”

Maddie sighed. “But Grandma says that Daddy needs a wife who will make him happy and I need a mother who cares more about me than her career.”

Out of the mouths of babes, Ashley thought, and cautiously asked, “She said this to you?”

Maddie shook her head. “She said it to Grandpa, but I could hear them talking.”

“Sometimes adults have conversations that they don’t mean for children to overhear, and what your grandma said probably wasn’t intended to be repeated.”

Maddie nodded. “But I think Daddy should get a new wife, too, ‘cause then we could be a family.”

The crack in Ashley’s heart split open a little wider. “That’s something only your daddy can decide.”

Cam’s daughter sighed again. “I need to go now. Grandma will be waiting for me.”

“Okay.” And because she figured they both needed it, she gave Maddie a quick hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Being summoned for a conference with the teacher wasn’t quite the same as being called to the principal’s office, but Cam had an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach just the same when he heard the message from Ashley on his answering machine.

He glanced at the calendar before he called her back. “I have about an hour at seven o’clock tonight while Maddie’s at ballet,” he said. “Can I buy you a coffee at Bean There Café?”

“That works for me,” she agreed, but still gave him no indication what it was she wanted to talk about.

So he worried about it while he cooked spaghetti for dinner, and though he gently tried to elicit details from Maddie about her day at school, his daughter was uncharacteristically close-mouthed, a fact which only increased his apprehension. They loaded the dishwasher together after they’d finished eating, then she washed up and went to get changed for her dance class, but there was no enthusiasm in her step and no sparkle in her eye.

When he got to the café, he noted that Ashley looked almost as apprehensive as he felt.

“What did she do?” he asked without preamble when he brought their drinks—regular black coffee for him, a cinnamon dolce latte for Ashley—to the table.

“She didn’t do anything wrong,” she hastened to reassure him. “I just thought you should be aware that your daughter is expressing an interest in you finding a new wife.”

He exhaled a sigh of relief. “I thought maybe she’d stabbed that annoying Charlie Partridge with her safety scissors.”

Her eyes flashed. “I’m glad you think this is funny.”

“I don’t,” he assured her. “But I was envisioning so many worse things that the truth almost seems anticlimactic.” He sipped his coffee, considering her revelation. “How did this come up?”

“She asked me—” her gaze slid away from his, her cheeks flushed with color “—if I was going to marry you.”

Despite her obvious embarrassment, he couldn’t resist teasing her a little. “Did you tell her that I hadn’t asked you … yet?”

“Will you stop joking about this?” Ashley demanded, obviously not amused. “She’s at an impressionable age and obviously looking for a mother figure.”

“I know,” he admitted. “I just didn’t realize how much until recently.”

Ashley sipped her latte.

“You told me she doesn’t see her mother on a regular basis,” she reminded him gently. “Is there anything you can do to change that?”

“Not likely. Danica comes to visit whenever it’s convenient for her, and that’s not more than two or three times a year. The four weeks that Maddie spent in London this summer is more time than she usually spends with her mother in a whole year.”

And he wasn’t entirely sure she’d spent most of that time with her mother, because she’d come home with a new handheld video game system and half a dozen games that Danica had bought to keep her busy while she “finished up some work.”

“What about telephone calls?” Ashley prompted.

“Her mother tries to call once a week.”

“Tries?”

He sighed. “What do you want me to say, Ash? I knew when I married Danica that she was committed to building her career. I didn’t know that she was committed to her career at the expense of all else, but that’s the way it is.”

“Okay, so maybe she isn’t a candidate for mother of the year,” Ashley allowed, “but Maddie is her daughter and she needs her mother.”

“Danica doesn’t see it that way.”

It was obvious that Ashley didn’t understand. Hell, he wasn’t sure he understood, but he’d long ago accepted that Maddie would never have a close relationship with her mother.

“The truth is,” he heard himself say, “Danica never wanted to have children.”

Ashley stared at him, as if she couldn’t believe what he was saying. He could hardly believe he was telling her. But this was Ashley, and if he wanted a second chance with her—and he’d finally accepted that he did—he had to be honest with her, and he had to trust that she would understand.

“I’ve never admitted this to anyone else—not even my parents—but Madeline wasn’t planned,” he confided to her. “In fact, Danica wasn’t very happy when she realized she was pregnant.”

That was an understatement, but he couldn’t admit to anyone, even so many years later, that Danica hadn’t been happy at all. In fact, she’d been furious. Having apparently managed to put aside the grief of a previous miscarriage, she was too busy building a career to want to have a baby.

Cam had tried to understand. Maybe it wasn’t what either of them had envisioned for a marriage that was barely into its sixth month, he’d admitted, but her pregnancy didn’t change their plans, it merely accelerated them. Or so he’d believed, until he’d realized that, despite claiming to be pregnant when they married, Danica never really wanted to have children.

He’d been stunned by her attitude—and furious when she’d suggested terminating her pregnancy. She wasn’t an unwed teenager, but a married woman and no way in hell was he going to agree to abort their child.

And so was laid the first brick in the wall that built up between them.

“But she fell in love with her baby when she held her in her arms,” Ashley guessed, obviously unable to imagine any other possibility.

Which was exactly what Cam had hoped would happen.

But the truth was, Danica only agreed to have the baby so long as he assumed complete responsibility for their child after the birth. And he’d gone along with her demands, certain that her attitude toward their child would change through the course of her pregnancy. But the distance between them continued to grow along with the baby in her womb.

“She tried to be a good mother,” Cam said in defense of his ex-wife, because he wanted to believe it was true. And because, when he realized some hard truths about her own childhood, he knew she’d handled the situation in the way that she believed was best for their child. “But Madeline was a difficult baby and after working fourteen hours at the office, Danica didn’t have the patience for a demanding infant.”

“She went back to work right after having the baby?”

“Her career meant a lot to her,” he said, all too aware that it didn’t just sound like a lame excuse, it was a lame excuse.

“More than her family?” Ashley demanded incredulously. “And what about your career?”

“I was still finishing my internship.”

“And taking care of the baby,” she guessed.

“There was a retired woman who lived above us who helped out a lot, but I was happy to do as much as I could between shifts at the hospital.”

“That couldn’t have been easy.”

“It wasn’t easy,” he agreed. “But I was happy to do it, to be the one who was there when she cut her first tooth, when she spoke her first word, when she took her first step.” And each one of those precious moments was indelibly imprinted on his memory.

“I know I’ve said it before, but Madeline’s lucky to have a dad like you,” Ashley told him.

“And a teacher like you,” he said.

She finished her latte. “I just thought you should know what was going through her mind.”

“I’m a little surprised,” he admitted. “She’s never mentioned the possibility of me finding a new wife before.”

“It might be a factor of her age,” Ashley suggested. “She’s making friends at school, and they talk about their mothers—it’s not surprising that she might look for someone to fill that role for her.”

“And that she would gravitate toward you.” He reached across the table, touched her hand. “When I came back for the reunion, I was surprised to find that you weren’t already married with the half a dozen kids you always wanted.”

She pulled her hand away. “Life doesn’t always turn out the way we plan.”

A truth of which he was all too aware. And yet, coming back to Pinehurst had helped him to see beyond the boundaries imposed by the choices he’d made to the opportunities that might still be found.

“Do you believe in second chances?” he asked cautiously.

She was silent for a minute, and when she finally spoke, it was only to say, “I believe that Maddie’s class will be finishing soon, and I need to get home.”

Cam pushed back his chair to walk her out.

“Thanks—for the update.”

She just nodded.

He watched her go, wondering why she’d refused to answer his question.

Because she didn’t believe in second chances?

Or because she did?

Chapter Seven

The Fall Festival was an old but ever-evolving Pinehurst tradition. What had started as a single-day celebration of the harvest back in 1859, when most of the town’s residents were farmers, had become a four-day mid-October event.

For Ashley and Paige, it was an annual ritual that brought back mostly fond memories of their teenage years. Because she’d been a bookworm rather than a social butterfly, Megan’s memories weren’t quite so fond, but they usually dragged her along to the fair with them anyway. And while Megan had critically assessed the engineering of the midway rides, Ashley and Paige were never deterred by her negative attitude.

They would save up their allowance for weeks in advance of the fair, happily giving up their hard-earned cash for a bird’s-eye view of the grounds from the top of the Ferris wheel, the thrill of a spin around the Zipper or the heart-pounding fear of the haunted house.

Of course, the fair was more than just the rides and caramel apples and cotton candy. It included a livestock exhibition and agricultural displays with the fattest pig, prettiest flowers and biggest pumpkins proudly displayed with their award-winning ribbons. There were also cooking contests, with local chefs putting their pies and cookies and breads to the test of the judges, and offering samples and selling their wares to the public.

As Ashley walked along the well-trodden dirt path munching on a bag of fresh kettle corn, she had to admit that, at almost thirty years of age, she enjoyed the annual festival probably even more now than she had as a teen. She no longer stood in line for the Zipper, but she’d learned to appreciate the arts and crafts displays more, and she always bought a couple of jars of Mrs. Kurchik’s homemade peach jam, winner of the blue ribbon every year for as far back as she could remember.

“You’ve got to see the baby pigs,” Ashley told Paige, steering her cousin toward the barn. Having brought her class on a field trip the previous day, she’d scoped out most of the grounds already.

“It stinks in the barn,” Paige protested.

“It smells like animals,” Ashley allowed, breathing in the scent of damp earth and fresh straw with just an underlying hint of manure.

Paige wrinkled her nose but gamely followed her through the wide doors. “It smells exactly as it did fifteen years ago.”

“Really?” Ashley was surprised by the comment. “We hardly ever came to see the animals when were in high school.”

“I wasn’t in here to see the animals.”

Ashley glanced over her shoulder, saw her cousin smiling.

“Do you remember Marvin Tedeschi?” Paige asked.

She scrambled through her memories to put a face to the name. “Mr. Archer’s history class?”

Paige smiled and nodded. “He got to second base with me, right here in this barn during the Fall Festival when we were in tenth grade.”

“You went to second base with Marvin Tedeschi?” Ashley stared at her. “The quiet kid with shaggy blond hair?”

“That quiet kid had the lips of a poet and the hands of an artist.”

“How did I not know this?”

“You were too busy lusting after Cam Turcotte to notice what was going on with anyone else,” Paige said.

Ashley couldn’t deny that was probably true, so she only asked, “And what happened after second base?”

Her cousin sighed. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Well, he got to second base a couple more times after that, but we never took it any further.” Her lips curved, her eyes glinted. “At least, not until I saw him at the reunion in the spring.”

“You hooked up with him that night?”

“I was feeling a little … nostalgic.”

“And he was feeling a little … Wilder?” Ashley teased.

Paige grinned. “I’d say he was feeling a lot Wilder. And left me feeling very grateful.”

“So that was it? You had great sex, then just went your separate ways?”

“Neither of us wanted anything more than that.”

“I don’t know that I could ever be so casual about intimacy,” Ashley admitted.

“Because you don’t think about sex for the purpose of physical release but as an assessment tool in your search for a potential husband,” her cousin pointed out.

“That’s not true.”

“It wasn’t a criticism,” Paige assured her.

Ashley frowned. “It’s still not true.”

“Have you ever had sex with a guy just because you thought it would be fun?”

Because she hadn’t, she only said, “That doesn’t prove anything.”

“It proves that you’re looking for a mate for life,” Paige insisted. “And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I’m not looking for a mate at all, not anymore,” Ashley reminded her.

“Then you should try sex just for fun,” her cousin advised.

She shook her head. “I think I’ll keep my expectations low, at least that way I won’t be disappointed.”

Paige stopped in mid-stride and turned to face her. “I can’t believe it.”

“What?”

“CBB wasn’t even good in bed.”

Ashley felt her cheeks flame as she reached out to rub the cow’s head. The big, dark eyes closed and the animal seemed to sigh with pleasure. “Sex was … fine.”

Paige lifted her brows. “Fine?”

“Look, if it’s okay with you, I’d really rather not discuss this now.” There wasn’t anything she couldn’t talk to her cousin about, but if they were going to perform a postmortem on her sex life, she wanted it to be in the privacy of her own home with a glass of wine in her hand, not in a public venue where anyone could overhear their conversation. Not that there were many other people in the barn, but still.

Unfortunately, Paige wouldn’t be deterred. “I need to understand this.”

“What’s to understand?”

“You were going to marry him.”

“And?” she prompted.

“And I can’t fathom why you would want to marry a guy who didn’t rock your world,” her cousin told her.

“Maybe my world isn’t capable of being rocked,” Ashley said, aware that she sounded more than a little defensive.

“Are you saying … never?”

She looked away. “Never with Trevor.”

“Sounds like a really bad slogan,” Paige said. “Maybe you should suggest he put it on his business cards, as a warning to other unsuspecting women.”

Ashley felt her lips curve, grateful that her cousin could make her see the light side of such a humiliating admission. “I’m happy just to move on,” she said, doing so towards the pigpen.

“But—oh.” Whatever else Paige was about to say was forgotten when she caught sight of the seven piglets, their round pink butts wiggling as they scrambled for position while nursing at their mother’s belly. “Oh, they are so cute.”

“My kids went crazy, oohing and aahing when they saw them yesterday,” Ashley told her.

“Kind of like I just did?”

“Just like that,” she agreed.

“Seven babies,” Paige mused. “Can you imagine?”

Ashley would happily settle for one baby of her own. At least one at a time. But she pushed the pang of longing aside, as she’d been doing for months now, since the end of her engagement to Trevor and the realization that her dreams of motherhood were slipping further and further away from her.

“Mama Pig doesn’t seem to be fazed,” she said instead.

“That’s because seven is actually a fairly small litter for a pig,” a male voice informed her from over their shoulders.

A familiar voice that had Ashley’s heart pounding too hard and too fast before she even turned around and confirmed the identity of the speaker. And when she saw Cam, her heart started to pound even harder and faster. He had his daughter with him, and obviously the little girl’s infatuation with the piglets she’d seen on her field trip had compelled her to bring her father back to the barn.

“Someone’s been doing his homework,” Paige noted. “Trying to impress the teacher?”

Cam just grinned.

“Mother pigs can have between eight and twelve babies,” Madeline said. Apparently she’d done the homework along with her father and wasn’t going to be outdone by him. Then the little girl smiled at Ashley. “I had so much fun visiting the pigs yesterday that I brung Daddy back to see them.”

“Brought,” both Ashley and Cam corrected automatically.

“Sorry,” Ashley said. “The teacher instincts don’t clock out after hours.”

“No need to apologize,” Cam assured her.

From over her shoulder, Ashley registered the sound of a throat clearing. She sighed and turned.

“This is my cousin, Paige,” she said to Maddie. “I brought her to see the pigs, too.” Then, to Paige, “You know Cam, of course. And this is his daughter, Madeline.”

Paige offered her hand to the girl. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Madeline.”

Madeline took Paige’s hand and shook it awkwardly. “Okay.”

“She’s six,” Cam said, as an explanation of his daughter’s response.

“She’s adorable,” Paige said, and he smiled like the proud father that he was, while Ashley tried to ignore the ache she felt whenever she looked at his little girl and the much stronger sizzle of attraction she experienced whenever he was near.

“There’s cows, too, Daddy,” Maddie said, tugging on his hand.

“Cows?” Paige interjected, as if they hadn’t already come from that direction. “Can you show me where?”

Madeline looked to her father for permission. He nodded and released her hand, and she immediately headed off for the bovine stalls, Paige trailing in her wake.

“Not very subtle, is she?” Ashley mused.

“You won’t hear me complain about having some time alone with you,” Cam assured her.

“We’re not exactly alone.”

“Close enough,” he said, and edged nearer to her.

Too close, she thought, as her heart started to pound just a little bit faster. “Cam.”

He ignored the warning in her voice and leaned closer. “You smell much nicer than the pigs.”

She couldn’t help but smile at that. “I should hope so.”

“I like your perfume,” he told her. “It’s similar to what you wore in high school, but sexier.”

“It’s the same perfume I wore in high school,” she admitted.

“Then it must be that you’re even sexier now than you were then.”

She swallowed and shifted away from him. “Why are you doing this, Cam?”

“What is it that you think I’m doing?” he asked her.

“Flirting with me.”

He smiled. “Maybe to see if you’ll flirt back.”

“I won’t,” she said, a reminder to herself as much as a response to him.

“What if I took you for a ride on the Ferris wheel? Would you flirt with me then?”

She shook her head.

“How about a spin on the Zipper?”

“I’d be more likely to throw up on you,” she warned.

“You used to love the Zipper.”

“I used to love a lot of things.”

His eyes locked on hers. “I remember.”

The potent sensuality in his gaze had the nerves in her belly quivering and her knees trembling. She tightened her grip on the railing, holding on to the wood as she desperately tried to hold her hormones in check.

“And I can’t stop thinking about that kiss we shared in your kitchen,” he told her.

“It was just a kiss.”

“A kiss that keeps me awake at night.”

“A kiss that never should have happened,” she said firmly, refusing to admit that the memory of that kiss had the exact same effect on her.

“We were always good together, Ash.”

She swallowed. “Were—past tense.”

“That kiss proves nothing is finished between us.”

“I’m not going to get involved with you again, Cam.”

He stroked the back of her hand, his fingertips tracing lazy circles over the soft skin. She wanted to snatch her hand away, but to do so would be to admit how much his touch affected her, how much he affected her.

“Because you’re still hung up on your ex?” he asked.

“Because I have no interest in repeating the mistakes of the past.”

“I made the mistake,” he said, “when I said goodbye to you.”

She couldn’t stand here and listen to him sounding so sincerely contrite. She couldn’t look into the fathomless depths of his dark-green eyes and not want to believe what he was saying. Because if she let herself believe he was sorry, that he really did want another chance, well, she just might be foolish enough to give him another chance. And that was something she couldn’t let happen. She had an appointment at PARC and plans for her life now, plans that didn’t include Cam Turcotte or any other man.