A Stranger's Baby

It was the hours until then that worried her.

“Well, if you stay, I wouldn’t worry about it,” her neighbor said. “You’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” she replied, because there didn’t seem to be anything else she could say.

For a long moment he didn’t say anything either or make a move for the door. She felt a brief hope that he might linger. Desperation fueled the feeling from a flicker to a full-blown inferno that swept through her.

Please stay.

It was such a ridiculous impulse she didn’t even start to open her mouth to form the words. She didn’t know this man. He didn’t owe her anything, had already done more for her than most people would have bothered with, risking himself to come over and investigate. Asking for anything more would be too much.

But if he offered to do it himself…

He cleared his throat, not looking at her. “Okay, then. Good night.”

Disappointment washed over her, the feeling too familiar to have much of an impact.

“Good night,” she murmured.

He turned and walked out of the doorway. She listened to his heavy tread retreating, the sound of the front door closing, then to the empty silence echoing around her.

Apprehension clawed up her spine, prickling at the nape of her neck. She scanned the familiar space of her living room. The bookshelves filled from top to bottom on one wall. The comfortable, mismatched furniture, each piece personally chosen. She tried to tell herself that she was just as safe here as she’d been before she’d gone to bed. Maybe the officers were right. Maybe it had just been a bad dream.

Maybe…

But try as she might, she couldn’t make herself believe any of it. The truth remained too vivid in her memory.

She unconsciously rubbed a hand over her belly. “Just you and me, little guy,” she whispered, getting a kick against her palm in response. She couldn’t be disappointed. It was how she’d expected it to be from the beginning. Just her and the baby.

She’d just never felt more alone than she did in that moment.

Or more afraid.

JAKE TRIED NOT TO FEEL guilty as he left his neighbor’s house. She’d be fine. He’d talked to the cops himself, heard how they hadn’t found anything. They’d seemed convinced she’d just had a bad dream, fueled by pregnancy hormones and a lack of sleep, and suffered an extreme reaction, firing at phantoms that weren’t there. It made more sense than people breaking in to her house to attack her and leaving no trace of their presence behind.

Besides, he couldn’t let himself get involved. A pregnant woman, with no sign of a father in the picture, was exactly the kind of woman he couldn’t be around. She could grow attached too easily, come to depend on him. And he didn’t have anything to offer her, or her kid.

His reasons made sense. They just didn’t help erase the uneasy feeling that dogged him as he made his way back to his house.

She’d seemed so sure.

The look in her eyes tugged at him. When she’d stared at him over the gun. When they’d said their goodbyes moments ago. There’d been dark shadows beneath her eyes, a sign that she wasn’t sleeping much, as she’d said. But her eyes had been clear and focused. Afraid.

And sure.

His gut clenched. Was it possible? The cops hadn’t ventured much beyond the house, finding enough, or not enough, there to satisfy their belief that she’d imagined the whole thing. But then, there’d only been two of them, not really enough to do a thorough search. If they thought something had really happened, they might have called for more officers.

He stopped midway between his house and hers, considering. If someone had broken in to her house, they’d probably used the back door, the one he’d found unlocked. And they likely wouldn’t have approached the house from the front and made their way to the back from there, in plain view of the street. They would have approached from behind.

He slowly turned in that direction. Several rows of trees lined the backs of their houses, forming a thick natural border with the homes on the other side. If someone had broken in to her house, the best way to approach—and to disappear—was through the trees, maybe even parking in the driveway of the house on the other side. He didn’t know for sure, but he thought he remembered something about that house being empty. There would be no one to notice a vehicle arriving in the middle of the night and making use of its driveway.

Before he could question the impulse, he quickly moved back to his truck and retrieved a flashlight, then headed toward her backyard. It was a cloudy night, the moon only briefly and occasionally showing itself. The trees lay covered in darkness.

Switching on the light, he reached the edge of the woods behind her house and floated the beam across the ground. It didn’t take him long to spot where the dirt had been disturbed. He crossed to the location and leaned closer, having no trouble identifying the marks.

Fresh footprints.

There was no reason they should be there. He couldn’t picture his neighbor wandering around back here, leaving a cluster of footprints in shoes that looked too big to be hers. He didn’t know why someone from the other side would be over here, even if the house was occupied. She might have had somebody working in her backyard, although he couldn’t think of a reason they’d have been back this far. Not to mention the lawn didn’t look like it had been mowed that week.

The prints were messy and indistinct, as though whoever had made them had been moving too quickly to leave much of an impression. Quickly, as if they were running from a pregnant woman with a gun?

Jake stared at the marks for a long moment, trying to convince himself he wasn’t putting more stock in them than he should be. He had no reason to believe the impressions were connected to what had happened in her house tonight, and every reason to believe nothing had occurred.

Unless the intruders had been so careful to leave no trace of their presence that in their haste they overlooked this one, maybe counting on someone to discount it.

Unless he’d just missed them disappearing into the darkness as he came around the side of the house.

Unless he was already inside when they started their vehicle and drove away, if the sound had even been audible from the house.

Troubled by where his thoughts were leading him, he headed back to his house. He couldn’t call the cops with something so inconclusive. They hadn’t been inclined to believe her. He didn’t think they’d be happy to be called back for this, if they did come back. He wondered if he should tell his neighbor. She might feel better knowing there could be reason to think she was right. Or she might be better off believing she wasn’t instead of scaring her more.

Remembering the pills he’d dropped in the driveway, he started to the front of the house. He was almost there when he saw it. A car parked on the other side of the street, facing him. It sat just out of reach of the nearest streetlamps on either side, the faintest edges of their glow falling mere feet short of illuminating it. Instead, it was nearly invisible, a dark-colored sedan blending into the shadows. Still, he could see the single figure sitting in the front seat. And though he couldn’t see the person’s face, he suddenly knew without a doubt the driver was watching his neighbor’s house.

He’d kept an eye on the street while they had waited for the police. The car hadn’t been sitting there then.

Before he even thought about it, he started toward the vehicle.

He’d barely gone three steps when the driver suddenly jerked forward in his seat. The engine roared to life. Jake started to pick up speed, muscles tensing in readiness to break out into a run. That damn pain shot down his leg, causing him to miss a step.

The sedan burst forward, leaping away from the curb and onto the street with a screech of its tires. He could do nothing but watch the car tear down the street, moving so fast he couldn’t even get the license plate number.

Biting back a curse, he drew in a ragged breath. His shoulders slumped, seeming to weigh a thousand pounds each. He should be used to his body failing him by now. That didn’t make it any easier to take.

He’d started to turn back toward his house when his gaze fell on his neighbor’s. The curtain in the front window shifted slightly. She must have looked out to see what the noise was.

Grimacing, he changed direction, heading for her front door. The curtain shifted again. He knew she was watching.

By the time he made it to the door, she was already opening it a crack, peering out over the chain she kept fastened. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t think you were imagining anything.”

Her eyes went wide. She slammed the door shut. He heard the sound of the chain being withdrawn before she pulled the door open farther, the other hand braced protectively on her belly.

“What are you talking about?”

“There are fresh footprints by the trees behind your house. And that car was sitting across the street. I think the driver was watching your house.”

She swallowed hard, looking as if she was going to be sick. “I knew it was real.”

“They could come back. You shouldn’t stay here.”

“I have my gun.”

“Next time they might, too.”

He saw the words hit home. She gave her head a shaky nod. “You’re right. I’ll go to a hotel or something….”

Her voice wobbled just the slightest bit, enough that he felt it like a low blow in his gut. She looked scared and vulnerable, as if she wanted to look over her shoulder and make sure there was nobody there, waiting to jump out at her from inside her own home. Which suddenly seemed all too possible. Hell, how did either of them know somebody hadn’t managed to break back in again? They had already managed to do it one time without leaving any trace.

As if she was thinking the same thing, her other hand went to her stomach, her arms stretching low. She looked as if she wanted to wrap her arms around herself.

No, not herself. Her baby.

Something painful hit him in the chest. Hard.

“You can stay with me.”

The words came out on their own. Even as he said them, it seemed as if someone else was doing so. She looked just as surprised to hear them as he was, blinking up at him, her mouth falling open in a soft O.

“Just for tonight,” he said roughly. “Until you figure out something else.” Part of him wondered who he was saying it for, her or himself.

For a long moment she didn’t say anything, staring at him, her eyes round and dazed. Then she nodded unsteadily. “Okay. Just for tonight. Let me get a few things.”

She retreated back into the house. He watched her waddle away. He knew letting her stay with him was the right thing to do. She shouldn’t be alone, not in her condition, not the way she was feeling. That didn’t stop him from wanting to call her back and revoke the offer. The uneasiness had returned with a vengeance, clawing at his insides with greater ferocity, for entirely different reasons than before.

Because he’d seen something else, too, shimmering faintly in her big brown eyes.

Gratitude.

And he knew more than ever that he’d finally made the mistake he’d been avoiding from the first time he’d seen the pregnant woman next door.

Chapter Three

Jake held open the front door of his house for her. Sara stepped over the threshold, feeling almost as though she was stepping into a brand-new world.

A few hours ago, she’d never spoken to this man. Now she was spending what was left of the night in his home.

Of course, several things had happened to her in the past few hours that had never happened before. At least this one might be relatively positive.

It was only when she heard him close and lock the door behind them that she felt a moment’s trepidation. She looked back at him, so big he nearly rendered the door superfluous, blocking the entire entryway himself. What if he was involved with the people who’d invaded her home and this was all part of some ploy to get her to his house where she’d be completely at his mercy? Or even if it wasn’t, how did she know she was safe with this man? She didn’t know anything about him. No one knew where she was. He could make her disappear and no one would ever know.

Then he turned around, allowing her to see the frown on his face. It hadn’t shifted since he’d made the invitation. He’d made it clear the offer had been grudging at best, hardly the attitude to project if he’d wanted to give her a false sense of security.

Sara grimaced at her own foolish paranoia, forcing herself to relax slightly. She was letting the night’s events go to her head.

Not to mention the fact that he’d barely looked at her since offering the invitation. Even now, he didn’t, moving past her toward a hallway. “You can take my bed,” he said gruffly.

“Oh, that’s not necessary.”

“It’s the only one I’ve got. There’s a spare bedroom, but I never bothered to put a bed in there.” Whether or not he’d intended it, she didn’t miss the unspoken message in his words. He hadn’t expected, or wanted, guests. “I’m sure you need it more than I do.”

“Honestly, I doubt I’ll get any sleep the rest of the night. And I sleep better sitting up these days anyway.” At least without her body pillow, which she’d forgotten, not even thinking about sleeping. She had so much adrenaline pumping through her system it felt as if she’d never sleep again. “Just point me in the direction of a comfortable chair and I’ll be set.”

Looking unconvinced, he finally waved an arm toward the living room. Following the motion, she made her way to a chair a few feet away. The room was barely furnished. If she hadn’t known better, she would have thought he’d just moved in that day. A flatscreen TV was installed on one wall directly in front of the chair. Some weights, an exercise mat and a workout bench were clustered in one corner. A card table set up beside the chair bore a few magazines. All sports-related, she noted, as she lowered herself into the seat.

Folding his arms over his chest, he leaned a shoulder against the wall. She realized with a start that the chair she’d gravitated toward was the only seat in the living room other than the bench. Boy, this place really wasn’t intended to accommodate guests in any way.

“Do you want to call the police?” he asked.

“And tell them what? There was a car sitting outside my house? I’m sure they’ll want to rush right over for that, especially since they didn’t believe me before.” She wiped a hand across her forehead. “I’ll go to the police station in the morning. Hopefully I’ll find somebody who might be more willing to believe me.”

“I’ll go with you.” She must have seemed surprised, because he shrugged his free shoulder. “I’m the one who saw the car, right?”

“Of course.” This time they couldn’t claim she’d imagined it. At the very least, it would have to be a shared delusion. “It’s weird, though.”

“What?”

“If whoever was in the car was one of the same people who broke in to my house, why would he park right across the street, for everyone to see after going to all the trouble of coming through the backyard the first time?”

“Could be they were just checking to make sure the coast was clear. As soon as they were sure the police were gone, they’d go around back and try again.”

“Maybe,” she said, unable to keep the doubt from her voice. It still felt as if something wasn’t adding up. “How many people were in the car?”

“It was dark. I could only see the driver.”

“There were three people in my house. I’m sure of it.”

“The big question is how they got inside in the first place.”

“I don’t know. The police said the locks hadn’t been tampered with, and I know I locked the back door.”

“I noticed you don’t have a security system.”

“It never seemed necessary. This is supposed to be a safe community. It’s one reason I moved here. I’m sure you don’t have one, either.” He signaled his agreement with a terse jerk of his head. “Logically, the only way they could have gotten in was with a key. But I’ve never given one to anybody.”

“Do you have one hidden somewhere around the house in case you get locked out?”

“No.”

“Maybe they stole yours somehow and made a copy without your knowledge.”

Sara suppressed a shudder. He’d reached the same conclusion she had. “That would mean they put some forethought into this, actually planned it for some time before going through with it. But who would do that? And why?”

“You really don’t know why anyone would attack you?”

She gave her head a vigorous shake. “No.”

He nodded at her belly. “What about the father?”

“He’s not in the picture.”

Something in her tone must have grabbed his suspicions, because his gaze sharpened. “How ‘not in the picture’ is he?”

“Completely. He doesn’t even know about the baby.”

“Because you didn’t tell him?” She nodded. “What if he found out on his own? He might not have been too happy to find out you kept it a secret.”

“No, it’s not like that—” Sara swallowed a sigh. She’d known it would likely come to this, but had still held out some small hope that she could avoid the question. And the answer. She’d almost been relieved when the police hadn’t bothered asking. Their lack of belief in her intruders had had that benefit at least.

For eight and a half months she hadn’t told a single person. She’d deftly avoided her doctor’s questions, and there hadn’t been anyone else to tell. That was one good thing about her solitary existence. It made it easier to avoid embarrassing questions.

That seemed less likely to be the case if she managed to convince the police to believe her. Like Jake, they would probably want to know more about the circumstances that led to her present state. If she did have to tell, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a practice run at it with someone who didn’t really care either way.

She took a breath. “I don’t know who he is.”

To his credit, Jake didn’t even blink. He simply gave a solemn nod in response. “Well, if you give the cops the names of the potential fathers, they can probably track them down and see where they might have been tonight.”

Another, deeper, breath. “That’s not what I meant. I know when and with whom I got pregnant. I just don’t know his name. It was a one-time thing.”

“And you didn’t get his name.”

It was probably her imagination, but she thought she heard the first trace of judgment in his tone. She stared him straight in the eye and tried to fight the heat she felt rising in her cheeks. “He said his name was Mark.”

“No last name?”

“I assume he has one. He just didn’t share it with me.”

“You didn’t ask?”

“No.”

“Did you tell him your full name?”

“No, just my first.”

“Does he know where you live?”

“I didn’t tell him, no.”

“Still, it’s not a big town. If he saw you on the street or something…”

“It happened in the city.”

“So there’s no reason to believe he has any idea where to find you, or that you’re pregnant.”

“That’s right. Like I said, he’s not involved.”

“And there’s nobody else you can think of who might have reason to break into your house and attack you?”

“No.”

Clearly stumped, he shook his head. “Then I don’t know. Hopefully the police can figure it out.” He pushed away from the door frame. “I should let you rest.”

“And I’m sure I’ve kept you up longer than you intended.”

He nodded shortly, which she took to be a sign of agreement. “Feel free to use the TV. Yell if you need anything. I’ll leave the door open in case you do.”

“Okay.”

With another tight nod, he turned away and stalked toward the hallway. Not for the first time, she noticed the slight hitch in his step, the way he slightly favored his left leg over the right. She’d wondered about its cause, but wasn’t about to ask. It really wasn’t any of her business.

She watched his broad back receding. He was almost out of sight when she felt the outburst pressing against her throat. She couldn’t hold it back.

“Jake?”

It was the first time she’d said his name, and she immediately realized they hadn’t established if they were on a first-name basis. For his part, he hadn’t called her anything besides the “lady” he’d used when he’d entered her house. Another way of maintaining some semblance of distance between them, she supposed. She wondered if he’d take offense at her familiarity.

He stopped, his shoulders tensing. He didn’t look back.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice thick, “for—”

“Don’t mention it.”

The words were tossed over his shoulder without a glance back. As soon as they were out, he started moving again, not waiting for a response. Seconds later he disappeared into the bedroom. As he’d said, he left the door open. She waited for a light to come on. It didn’t. He must have decided not to bother.

She settled back in the chair, trying not to take his reaction for the rejection it was. He was simply reminding her of a truth she’d be better off remembering. He wasn’t her friend. He was barely an acquaintance. Her neighbor, nothing more.

For tonight, though, it was enough. And she had more important things to worry about in the morning.

The reminder brought back everything that had happened that night. He’d left all the lights in the living room on for her. She should have felt safe. But the room opened onto the kitchen, and when she glanced to her right, she had a clear view of both the windows over the sink and in the back door. And once she saw them, she couldn’t look away.

The windows gaped with darkness. There was no light on outside the back door. The backyard was out there, and beyond it, the trees. Where he’d found footprints.

Anyone could be out there.

Anyone might be.

Eyes wide, Sara swallowed the hard lump that formed in her throat. Rubbing a hand over her belly, she stared at the windows, into the darkness, and desperately wished for morning to come.

Chapter Four

Sara didn’t know how she managed to get any sleep during the endless night. She only knew that she had, when she found herself prodded awake by a familiar urge.

Sunlight filtered in through the windows she’d stared at for so long. It was morning. Slowly hoisting herself from the chair, she moved toward the hallway, already having located the bathroom during an earlier trip in the middle of the night.

She’d just reached the corridor when her neighbor stepped through the still open doorway of his bedroom.

Her drowsiness vanished in an instant, her eyes going wide. Like her, he’d obviously just gotten up. He was tousle-haired and bare-chested, dressed only in a pair of skimpy shorts that didn’t even stretch halfway to his knees and hardly managed to contain his thighs. She tried to avoid looking at the impressive bulge between them. God knew there was plenty else to look at.

She’d known he was muscular; that was apparent even when he was dressed. It was something else entirely to see him without clothes, to see just how hard and toned his body was. There wasn’t a stray ounce of fat anywhere, only firm skin stretched over taut muscle. His arms were massive, as big around as his thighs.

A tremor of awareness, so unexpected, so unfamiliar, quaked through her, rumbling upward from the pit of her stomach.

He detected her presence a moment after she spotted him, coming to a stop just outside his bedroom. He dragged a hand over his face, the eyes narrowed with sleepiness only widening the slightest bit. “’Morning,” he said, his voice a hoarse rumble.

“Good morning,” she murmured. “I was just…” She waved a hand toward the bathroom.

He nodded. “Go ahead.” Before she could respond, he ducked back into his bedroom.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom, she shuffled back into the living room. He was standing at the front window, pulling a curtain back slightly with one finger and peering out. He’d pulled a T-shirt on, an impossibly large swath of cloth covering the wide expanse of his back, but hadn’t bothered with pants. He was still wearing those impossibly short shorts.