roundups or rodeos, or wherever Jack went when he had
time off...
When she made
no move to accept the check, or give it back, Jack looked at her, and said,
"Like it or not, you're stuck with me. You're carrying my son and I'm here
for the duration."
Grace glared at
the man. "I will not be bought like they tried at the fertility clinic,"
she said, "but I will be talking to an attorney." She slapped the
check on the dashboard.
***
While waiting
for Sam to pick him up, Jack sat on the couch in Grace's two bedroom house,
watching as she puttered around. Periodically, she stopped and took a deep
breath, and her hands went to her stomach, and he knew she was still having
contractions. He'd get joint custody of his son, whatever it took, but unless
Grace got complete bed rest he'd have no son, and he couldn't go through that
again. He also knew the child Grace was carrying had a better than eighty-five
percent chance of being a genetic match for Ricky. That alone was reason enough
to make sure Grace got the bed rest she needed to bring the pregnancy to term.
Which brought
up another subject, approaching her about giving birth at the hospital in New
Jersey where they could harvest the cord blood. But since he had no legal claim,
he'd lay the groundwork for when he did. But they'd take it one step at a time.
"Look,"
Jack said, knowing she was miffed about his attempt to square away his paternal
rights with a check. "I'll let the paternity issue go for a while, but you
need bed rest and you have no one here to look after you, so you could come to my
place. My mother lives there, and my brother and sister-in-law have a house on
the ranch, and the lodge housekeeper can look after you so you can stay quiet."
"Housekeeper?"
Grace paused on her way from the kitchen to the hallway with an armload of
dirty dish towels he assumed were intended for the stacked washer-dryer in the
bathroom.
Jack shrugged.
"It's a working guest ranch. Flo takes care of the domestic end of the
lodge. There's a bedroom off the kitchen where you can stay and it has its own
bath."
"I can't
just leave here," Grace said. "I have a job."
"Doing
what?"
"Cleaning
houses. I'm with Merry Maids."
"You won't
be doing that for the next few months," Jack said. "And what do you
plan to do after our son's born?" It came to him that, for the first time,
he'd referred to the baby as theirs—Grace's and his. Unplanned. A human error
that put his sperm into the uterus of a woman he'd never laid eyes on before
today, and who was now the mother of his unborn son. A precious gift. A son he
never expected to have, and wanted very badly.
"What
about all my stuff?" Grace asked.
Jack looked
around the modest house. "What stuff?"
"Books,
clothes, things to do. This is my home. It's where I want to be. Everything's
ready for the baby here, and I have to go to my birthing class tomorrow,"
she said as she headed down the hallway toward the bath.
"That's
what I mean," Jack called after her. "You're supposed to be in bed
and you're already planning on going out." He was beginning to get a
handle on this woman. If she thought he was bullheaded, she needed to take a
good look in the mirror.
"I have a
cat and she's going to have kittens," Grace said, as she emerged from the
hallway.
"Fine,
we'll add her litter to yours." Jack couldn't help smiling because Grace
was smiling. The first real smile he'd seen. At the clinic she'd given him a
couple of twitches, but nothing that went to her eyes. Brown eyes, he noticed.
Their son would be brown-brown. Eyes and hair. "So what's it going to
be?" he asked, as Grace passed him on her way back to the kitchen.
Grace stopped
abruptly, put her hands to her belly and let out a grunt. Then she eyed him as
if sizing him up, and said, with hesitation, "Does your housekeeper live
there?"
Jack nodded.
"She has a room down the hallway from where you'd be."
Grace let out
another little grunt, and her hand went to her belly and stayed there as
Skeleton Key, Konstanz Silverbow