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  Shifting in his chair in an effort to relieve the dull ache of his back, Tom asked, “And when did Steve enter the picture?”

  “Not long after Crystal died. She wouldn’t let me contact him during her illness. They’d had a terrible fight a couple of years earlier and hadn’t spoken since. Steve didn’t approve of Crystal’s life-style—her nude modeling or her lack of judgment or restraint when it came to men, her refusal to plan for the future or worry about the consequences of her actions. Steve and Crystal reacted very differently to the vagaries of their childhood. Steve became as careful and conservative as Crystal was rebellious and reckless.”

  “And yet Crystal refused medical treatment for the sake of her baby.”

  Leslie’s eyes softened. “Yes. She said it was the first time in her life anyone ever really needed her for anything, and she couldn’t fail him.”

  “Could her life have been saved?” he asked. “If she’d risked the baby, I mean.”

  Leslie sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe...but she made her choice. And she died believing she made the right one.”

  Tom shifted in his seat again.

  Rousing herself from her thoughts, Leslie went on. “Steve was notified of Crystal’s death, of course. I called him myself. Crystal hadn’t even wanted me to tell Steve about Kenny, but I thought he had a right to know he had a nephew. I thought maybe he would like to be a part of Kenny’s life—you know, visit occasionally, exchange birthday and Christmas cards. But I never expected...”

  “That Steve would try to take Kenny away from you?” Tom finished when Leslie let the words trail off.

  She nodded unhappily. “I hadn’t realized how much anger he still harbored toward my father... and, indirectly, toward me. He said Kenny was his flesh and blood, not mine, and he didn’t want his nephew being raised by Ben Harden’s daughter. He said I’d never tried to save Crystal from her own actions. Steve knew I’d sent Crystal money a few times when she got into trouble, and he said that had only encouraged her.”

  “So Steve filed for custody of Kenny.”

  “He hasn’t actually filed suit yet, but he insists that he’s going to. The will was valid, of course. I made sure it was legal and correct. But custody battles are tricky. Judges don’t always take the mother’s wishes into consideration, especially when the mother...well, when the mother was like Crystal.”

  “But you’re an attorney, with an impeccable reputation,” Tom protested.

  “Now,” she agreed. “But I told you I did a few foolish things in my youth, usually in Crystal’s company. Nothing serious, but Steve could produce enough evidence to make me look somewhat less than spotless. And losing my job didn’t help my case.”

  “What happened?”

  “I just couldn’t keep up,” she admitted. “It was a high-powered firm. There wasn’t a lot of tolerance for personal problems. Too many people standing in line to take my place. Looking after Crystal took a lot of my time, and then after Kenny was born, small and a bit sickly at first, it was all I could do to get in to the office a few hours a day. I finally made a mistake in a case—nothing major, just a small error—but it was the excuse the partners had been looking for. They let me go with polite regrets and insincere best wishes for my future. I have no hope that I’ll be given a glowing recommendation when they are contacted by future potential employers.”

  Tom shook his head in sympathy. “You’ve had a hell of a year, haven’t you?”

  She nodded fervently. “It’s wiped me out,” she said flatly.

  Tom knew she’d made a lot of money for the firm, and that she wasn’t one to live lavishly. Which left him only one conclusion. “You paid Crystal’s medical bills?”

  “As much as I could,” she acknowledged. “They were astronomical. And so were the bills for Kenny’s delivery and the week he spent in the newborn intensive care unit until he weighed enough to come home. Crystal had no insurance, of course, but I was afraid to ask for too much assistance for fear that it wouldn’t look good when I applied for full guardianship of Kenny. Most of the bills are paid now, but I have almost nothing left. Only the Lexus, and I plan to sell that as soon as I can.”

  She was looking directly into Tom’s eyes, and he had the impression that she was giving him a clear picture of her situation so that he couldn’t claim to have been misled in any way. She really was in a bind, he mused. And she’d asked him for help, even though he’d always considered Leslie Harden to be the proudest, most stubbornly independent woman he’d ever known, with the exception of his mother.

  It couldn’t have been easy for her to come to him. It was a measure of her love for little Kenny, and her fear of losing him, that she had.

  “What do you want me to do, Leslie?” he asked finally, simply.

  She drew a deep breath. “Steve is a single male, but he has a good job and the financial means to hire help if he wins custody of the baby. I’m without a job or immediate prospects, as I’m sure he’ll point out, and he’s also made it clear that he doesn’t believe a single woman can do an adequate job of raising a boy.”

  Tom scowled. His mother, no doubt, would have a few things to say about that.

  “There’s a chance,” Leslie continued doggedly, “that I could win the case alone. I have Crystal’s will on my side, and it’s no longer generally believed that a single woman can’t be an effective parent. And yet...”

  Again, Tom sensed what she wanted to say. “You’re afraid to take the risk.”

  She nodded, her lower lip quivering just faintly. “I can’t lose him, Tom. He’s all I have left.”

  He stifled a renewed impulse to take her into his arms and comfort her. There were still things that needed to be said, decisions that had to be made. “You decided it would help your case to be married,” he prompted.

  “An attorney I consulted suggested it and asked if I was involved with anyone who would be willing to help me out. I immediately said no, of course, but then I thought of you. And I wondered...”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “I didn’t know how to talk to you about this over the telephone. For all I knew, you had moved or gotten married or involved with someone. How could I just call you up out of the blue and propose to you?” she asked ruefully.

  Tom wasn’t sure it would have been any more awkward than his finding her unexpectedly in his living room, but he kept quiet.

  “Steve seemed so determined, so confident that he would take Kenny away from me. I thought I could buy some time by disappearing for a little while. I came straight here because I didn’t know where else to go. I had no idea, of course, that Steve was having me watched,” she added scornfully.

  “What, exactly, does Steve do?”

  “He’s in business for himself. Some sort of distribution business, I think. He makes good money, but Crystal said he doesn’t seem to take much pleasure in it. He wanted her to settle down and work for him, but she said there were too many strings attached. She refused. I think that was when they had their big quarrel and stopped speaking.”

  “He probably thought he was doing her a favor. Offering her a chance to make a living in a respectable job.”

  “He probably did,” Leslie agreed with a sigh. “But he suggested it so arrogantly that she wouldn’t even consider it. Maybe he thought he was trying to save her, but in her eyes, he was trying to control her. And Crystal couldn’t accept that.”

  Leslie sounded as if she fully understood Crystal’s sentiments in that respect, at least.

  Tom finally asked the question that had been hovering at the back of his mind during the entire conversation. “Leslie... why me?”

  She gave him a look of apology and said, “Partly because you were the last man I was involved with. The first one who came to mind when my associate mentioned a, er, marriage of convenience.”

  Tom nodded grimly.

  “And I kept remembering what you’d said to me the day I left—about being here for me if I ever needed you. We were
both grumpy that day, said a few words we probably shouldn’t have, but...well, I knew your offer was genuine. You weren’t just trying to be polite, or to say something nice to see me on my way. You meant it.”

  He nodded again. “I meant it.”

  “We were good friends, weren’t we, Goose?” she asked softly.

  “We were more than that,” he reminded her.

  “Yes.”

  She looked a bit uncomfortable that she was taking such blatant advantage of the relationship they’d had. The relationship that she had ended, he couldn’t help remembering with a sting that was still as fresh as it had been eighteen months earlier.

  He sighed, pushed his plate away and glanced at his watch. “It’s getting late,” he said, having noted the lines of weariness around her mouth. “You’ve been on the road most of the day. You must be tired.”

  She nodded without meeting his eyes.

  “You can take the bed in the spare room, if you don’t mind rooming with Kenny. Or you can take my room, leave the baby where he is, and I’ll bunk on the couch.”

  She looked up then. “I’ll sleep in the spare room with Kenny. I didn’t come here to throw you out of your bed.”

  He didn’t think she’d come to share it with him, either. His mouth twisted, but he said only, “Fine.”

  Leslie cleared her throat. “You, um, haven’t given me an answer. To my, er, proposal.”

  He nodded. “I know. Let’s take it a day at a time for now, okay? After all, we’re meeting with Steve tomorrow. There’s always a chance he’ll see reason and drop his case.”

  “Which would mean you’d be off the hook,” Leslie remarked with a forced smile.

  “As would you,” he noted.

  “There’s always a chance,” she murmured, though she didn’t sound particularly optimistic.

  “Mmm.” He didn’t even try to read her expression, just as he was deliberately not analyzing his own feelings at the mo- VALENTINE BABY ment. “You’ll need your bags. Tell me which ones to bring in and I’ll get them for you.”

  “No,” she said, her chin firming again. “I’ll get my own bags. You’ve done enough tonight.”

  She sounded prepared to argue. Tom just wasn’t in the mood. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll clear out of the bathroom so it’ll be free when you need it.”

  Blinking a little in surprise at his quick capitulation, Leslie gathered her plate and glass and carried them to the dishwasher, then left to collect her bags. Tom limped into the bathroom, his head still pounding, his pulse still jumping from the shock of having Leslie Harden back in his life.

  Tom didn’t sleep particularly well that night. He couldn’t blame Kenny, though he did hear the baby cry out once during the early hours, immediately followed by the sounds of Leslie moving around and speaking in soft, shushing tones. But the baby’s cry hadn’t awakened him. Tom had been lying awake for hours, pondering what his answer would be if Leslie asked him again to marry her.

  By the time daylight crept through the slats of the blinds in his bedroom window, he was no closer to an answer than he had been when he’d gone to bed.

  Chapter Three

  Leslie felt as though she’d been dragged over a gravel road by a pickup truck when she awoke Saturday morning, after managing maybe two hours of sleep. Kenny hadn’t slept well, probably because of his unfamiliar surroundings and the overstimulation of a full day of car travel, but Leslie didn’t blame the baby for her sleeplessness.

  She’d spent most of the night wondering what was different about Tom. She hadn’t exactly expected an open-arm welcome, of course, especially since they’d parted coolly. She wouldn’t have been at all surprised to find him involved with another woman, maybe to the point of cohabiting. He was, after all, an attractive and intriguing man who’d always been popular with the local women. But she hadn’t expected him to be almost a stranger to her.

  He’d looked tired...and not the kind of tired that follows a hard day’s work. The kind of tired that seeped all the way through to the soul.

  Crystal had looked that kind of tired when she’d shown up on Leslie’s doorstep, broke, sick, pregnant, defeated.

  Tom had always been animated, even after a strenuous, twenty-four-hour stint at the fire station. Even after rescuing stranded hikers or kayakers or climbers from next-to-impossible predicaments. Even after boldly risking his own life to save a stranger. There’d been a flame inside him that had burned hot, bright, reckless. Leslie had seen it gleaming in his eyes the first time she’d met him. She’d worried even then that she would get burned by it.

  That flame had been dampened since she’d left eighteen months ago—if not completely extinguished.

  She didn’t try to delude herself that her departure had affected him that deeply. They hadn’t had that sort of relationship, had never spoken any words of commitment. She’d never expected more from him than what he’d given her—a few months of excitement and exhilaration, fun, laughs, passion. Things that had been sadly absent from her life before he’d swept into it.

  Leslie had never stopped missing those feelings—missing Tom.

  She brushed her hair and pulled the top back into a barrette. Her face looked pale, so she put on just a touch of makeup, chiding herself for her vanity even as she applied it.

  Wearing the red fleece shirt and black fleece pants she’d slept in, she carried Kenny into the kitchen for his morning bottle. She’d stashed a couple in the refrigerator last night; all she had to do was take one out and warm it in the microwave. Kenny liked his formula at approximately room temperature, she’d discovered through trial and error. In his own wordless manner, he was able to express his tastes quite clearly, she thought with a fond smile.

  After carrying baby and bottle into the living room, she settled on one end of the couch and cradled Kenny in the crook of her left arm as she popped the nipple into his open mouth. He began to nurse noisily. Leslie kissed his forehead, then glanced toward the still-closed door to Tom’s bedroom. She wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t made an appearance yet this morning.

  It was still early—not quite 7 a.m. Kenny was an early riser. Fortunately, he was a very good baby. He rarely cried, and then only when he was hungry, wet or overly tired. Thankfully, he’d never had colic or anything more serious than minor sniffles. Leslie wasn’t sure how she would have coped with those complications on top of Crystal’s illness, but she supposed somehow she would have managed. What choice would she have had?

  After draining the bottle, Kenny wanted to play. He lay on his back on her thighs, kicking his feet and gazing up at her as he babbled and chortled, pleased with his full tummy and her undivided attention. Leslie crooned to him and chuckled at the funny faces he made. His smiles were sweet, damp, innocent. Utterly trusting. And she loved him so much it hurt.

  She wasn’t handing this baby over to Steve without one hell of a fight.

  Tom’s door opened and he came into the living room, his sandy hair tumbled around his unshaven face, his eyes a bit glazed. He wore a gray sweat suit with the Fayetteville fire department logo on the chest, and white socks on his feet.

  He didn’t look as though he’d slept any better than she had. She certainly understood. She couldn’t imagine how he must have felt at having her show up without warning and propose to him. He’d probably spent at least part of the night wondering how to gracefully get rid of her, she thought with a swallowed sigh. She’d have to find a way to convince him that elaborate measures wouldn’t be necessary. If he chose not to participate in her fight for Kenny, whatever the reason, she wouldn’t cause problems. She could disappear as quickly as she’d arrived.

  She would get by without his help. Somehow.

  “Have you had breakfast?” he asked, looking toward the kitchen.

  “No. Kenny wanted his first.”

  Tom glanced at the baby, then at Leslie. “I’ll make coffee.”

  She nodded, beginning to frown. Who was this somber, distant stranger? And what
had he done with Tom Lowery, the laid-back, happy-go-lucky, irreverent joker she’d known before?

  She didn’t think Tom had cracked a joke since she’d arrived last night. Was he still this angry with her for leaving the way she had—or was it something else?

  He was limping again as he moved toward the kitchen. She wondered if he was in pain, if that would explain the way he’d been acting. “Tom?”

  He looked over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “I noticed you’re still favoring your right leg. Have you seen a doctor?”

  “Yes.”

  He went into the kitchen without elaborating.

  Leslie blinked and gazed at the baby in her lap, stung by the abruptness of Tom’s answer. “Well, Kenny,” she murmured with a sigh, “looks like we won’t be staying here very long.”

  Tom certainly hadn’t welcomed her with open arms.

  Tom wanted to blame his less-than-gracious behavior on lack of sleep. That might have accounted for part of it, but he knew there was a lot more to it than that. The sight of Leslie Harden, sitting completely relaxed on his sofa, cooing down at the smiling baby in her lap, had hit him hard that morning.

  Damn it, he didn’t want to get hurt again. How many blows was a guy supposed to take before he was allowed to throw in the towel?

  Partly as an apology for his surly behavior, he cooked breakfast. He remembered that Leslie had a weakness for thick slabs of French toast with powdered sugar and maple syrup. He’d made it for her several times while they’d been together. She’d always fussed at him for tempting her with so many calories, and then had cleaned her plate with an enthusiasm he’d enjoyed.