Baby, Oh Baby! (7 page)

Neither had Pearl's grandson's, Annie thought. The poor man had looked from her to the squawling baby, then suggested it might be better if he came back at another time. Annie had jumped at the suggestion.

"Are you okay?" the man had asked as he turned to leave, his pudgy face creased with concern. His eyes had darted to the cloud of gravel dust still hovering over the driveway from Jake's rapid departure.

Annie was afraid she'd never be completely okay again, but she'd bravely nodded. Whatever she told this man was sure to get back to Pearl. "We, uh, just got some distressing news," she told him.

To put it mildly. Having Jake Chastaine appear on her doorstep and announce he was Madeline's father had turned her world upside down and inside out. She felt as if she'd been hit by a freight train, a steamroller, and a bulldozer, all at once.

Annie gazed down at the child in her arms, her heart filling with a tenderness so strong it hurt. She'd never loved anyone or anything as much as she loved her daughter. She watched the rise and fall of Maddie's chest, listened to the way her breath came out in soft little puffs, felt the sweet weight of the child's head cradled against her breast.

Madeline was so young, so innocent, so trusting. She relied completely on Annie to nurture her, to care for her, to protect her from harm. Annie would rather die than betray the child's faith.

What was it that Jake had said? "I'm that child's father, and I have rights. If I have to drag you through every court in the land to exercise them, I’ll do it."

Fear, cold and numbing, shot through Annie, leaving her thoughts jumbled and confused. What did he want? Custody?

That had to be it. He said there'd been a mix-up at the clinic. He'd said he and his wife had been undergoing fertility treatments. Obviously they wanted a child.

They wanted Madeline.'

Annie's stomach lurched and knotted, and she fought off a wave of nausea. She tightened her grip on the baby.

"I'm an attorney," Jake had said. "A damn good one."

Annie believed him. The man had a presence, an innate sense of self-assurance about him that spoke of success. It was in his eyes, his voice, his bearing. He was used to winning. He was used to getting what he wanted.

And he wanted Madeline.

Annie stopped rocking and stared at the long shadow Madeline's crib cast against the wall. The slats of the side railing looked eerily like prison bars. Maybe she should make a break for it before the law got involved. Maybe she should just pack up the baby, get in the rusty four-door pickup she'd inherited from her grandfather, and go.

But where? The inside of her lip hurt, and she realized she was biting it. The pain was nothing compared to the cold, gripping ache inside.

Think, she told herself. Fight back the fear and think.

She could go to another country, go into hiding. She could leave tonight, before he had a chance to file any papers or have her served or do whatever it was that attorneys did. The thought filled her veins with adrenaline.

But how would she finance such a thing? It would take money—a lot of money, a lot more money than she had—to start a life in another country.

Annie closed her eyes, the man's words reverberating in her head. "I'11 leave for now, but I'll be back." His mouth had been hard, his jaw firm as granite, his eyes filled with steely resolve. She'd never seen a more determined look on a human face.

The memory of those eyes, intent and unyielding, sent a shudder racing through her. He was not the kind of man to give up easily. If she ran, he would try to find her. She'd need to change her identity and cover her tracks. She'd need to keep moving until she was sure it was safe.

But would it ever feel safe? Despair surged through Annie like a wave against a rock, pushing her toward the hard, crushing answer.

"No." Annie whispered the word in the darkened room. If she ran now, she would have to keep running until Madeline was grown. She could never be sure that Jake wasn't just about to find her. She'd have to raise her child on the lam, always looking over her shoulder, never putting down any roots.

And the one thing she'd vowed to give her child was roots. She wanted Madeline to know a sense of belonging, a sense of home. Annie had missed having that from her parents, but at least she'd gotten a taste of it from her grandparents. It was why Annie had come back to the ranch to raise her child.

"Oh, Gran, Grandpa-how I wish you were here!" Annie murmured. "How am I supposed to know what to do?"

She no longer felt sure of anything, except her love for Madeline. No one could ever love the child as much as she did, she thought fiercely. And as long as she could draw a breath, she would do everything within her power to keep her child with her.

The baby shifted restlessly, and Annie realized she was clutching her as if someone were trying to yank her from her arms. Madeline's eyelids fluttered open. Her small baby mouth pursed as she let out a mewling complaint.

Easing her grip on the child, Annie gently trailed her finger through the baby's curls. "Everything's all right, sweetheart," she murmured.

But it wasn't, and Madeline sensed ` it. The child kicked her pajama-covered feet and whimpered. Setting the chair to rocking, Annie began to croon a lullaby. "Hush, little baby, don't say a word. Papa's gonna buy you a mockingbird."

Darn it—the last thing Annie wanted to sing about was Madeline's papa, because she had no doubt it was Jake. The similarity in their physical appearance was too pronounced to be coincidental. She wished she could deny it, wished she could convince herself it was all a mistake, but deep in her soul, she knew it was true.

Annie deliberately revised the lyrics. And if that mockingbird don `t sing, Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.”

But Annie didn't have the money for diamond rings- much less expensive custody suits. All of her money was invested in the ranch. Jake had certainly looked well-heeled, though. His suit had been expensive, and the watch on his wrist had probably cost as much as Annie's annual disposable income.

Madeline's eyes started to drift closed again. "And if that diamond ring turns to Mass," Annie whispered, "Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass."

The baby's breathing resumed its deep, regular pattern After a few more verses, Annie slowly rose from the chair, the baby limp and heavy in her arms, and carefully placed her in the crib. She tucked the pink baby blanket around the child, then bent and kissed her warm cheek. With a last caress of a ringlet on the child's forehead, she raised the side rail and tiptoed out the door.

The light in the hallway seemed unnaturally bright after the dimness of the baby's room. Annie blinked against the glare, but welcomed it all the same. Bright lights always comforted her when she got jittery or frightened.

But this fear was different than the kind that came from watching a scary movie or reading a murder mystery. This fear was alive—a loathsome, hungry creature, a creature intent on devouring her heart and consuming her soul. This fear concerned her daughter.

She felt alone, so alone. She longed to call Helen and Ben, but she didn't want to burden them with this the night before Helen's surgery.

Besides, she thought somberly, the advice she needed went beyond what a friend could give. She needed to talk to an attorney.

Henry. Annie froze in the hallway as the thought settled around her.

"Henry. Of course," she murmured. Henry Marlow would know what to do. An old friend of her grandfather's, Henry was retired now, but he'd practiced law up until a few months ago, when a stroke had forced him to move into the nursing home where Pearl lived. Henry had handled the probate on her grandparents' estate. He was no longer able to walk, but his mind was still sharp as a razor. Annie had talked with him just last week when she'd visited Pearl.

Why hadn't she thought of Henry sooner? She'd go see him first thing in the morning. She'd take Madeline with her and let Pearl keep an eye on the baby while she sought the attorney's advice.

A loud yap broke through Annie's thoughts. She looked across the living room to see Hot Dog standing by the back door, his long, skinny tail wagging.

"You need to go out, fella?" Annie crossed the room and opened the door for the dachshund. The fat little dog waddled out onto the darkened patio. Annie flipped the light switch by the door; illuminating the back lawn.

With any luck, Annie thought, maybe Henry could shed some light on her situation as well.

Sunlight streamed through the windows of the sunroom at the Shady Acres Nursing Home the next morning, creating a sheen on Henry's bald head. The old man had always reminded Annie of Humpty Dumpty, with his large, egg-shaped head and small, thin-boned frame.

"Jake Chastain," the elderly man muttered, staring at the business card Annie had just handed him. "Hmm."

Annie leaned forward on the yellow-and-green cushion that covered the white rattan sofa. "Do you know him?"

The old man nodded grimly, his bald head bobbing to the right. The stroke had weakened the left side of his body, so all of Henry's actions seemed unbalanced. "Know of him. He joined his father-in-law's firm a few years ago. Tom Morrison has one of the biggest law firms in Tulsa."

"Are they any good?"

Henry made a sound halfway between a harrumph and a cough. "Probably the best."

Annie's spirits took a nosedive.

"They specialize in corporate law. Mergers, acquisitions, that sort of thing. Tom Morrison has a lot of clout." Henry's mouth curved in a half grin. "Not to mention a knack for contributing to all the right judiciary campaigns."

Annie frowned. "You mean he's crooked?"

"Oh, no. ' Just well-heeled and well connected. He knows all the right people."

Annie felt a rekindling of hope. "So if they specialize in corporate law, they probably don't know much about custody cases."

"I wouldn't say that," Henry cautioned. "A firm as large as theirs can provide full legal services. They'd bring in outside counsel, if need be. They'd do whatever it took to win." Henry ran his good hand across his jaw.

"They don't so much specialize in corporate law as they specialize in winning."

Annie's shoulders slumped. Just her luck—Madeline's father was not only an attorney, but one of the meanest, baddest dogs in Tulsa's legal junkyard. She drew a deep, steadying breath. "So will you represent me against them?"

Henry's blue eyes were kind under his heavy lids. "I'm no longer practicing law, Annie."

"But you still can, can't you? You still have your license?"

"I'm still a member of the bar, if that's what you mean. But there's nothing to represent yet."

"There will be."

Henry's head wobbled as he nodded. "I'm afraid you're right." He shifted his weight in the wheelchair and peered at her closely. "Look, Annie-I'm no match for the likes of this firm. Hiring me to represent you against them would be like using a BB gun against an armored tank. You need someone who can play on the same field."

"I don't have a lot of money."

"You could mortgage the ranch."

Annie shook her head. "I already took out a mortgage to pay for repairs. The barn needed a new roof and the foundation of the house was badly cracked—then we had to buy a new hay baler, and I'm diversifying into alpacas, and I had medical expenses from having the baby that insurance didn't cover... " Annie's voice trailed off. She could go on and on, listing all the ways she'd spent the borrowed money. All of the expenditures had been necessary, but that didn't matter now. What mattered was that the money was gone, and she didn't have the income to qualify for a second mortgage. Annie swallowed. "I'm barely keeping my head above water now."

The right side of Henry's forehead knit in a frown.

Annie clasped her hands in her lap and steeled her spine. "Give it to me straight, Henry. What are my chances?"

"Depends on what you want."

"To keep things the way they are. To keep this man out of Madeline's life."

Henry's head gave a doleful, lopsided shake. "Well, then, I'm afraid they're not good. If he can prove paternity, he'll probably at least get joint custody."

A cold chill shimmied up Annie's spine. "I won't stand for that."

"You're likely to have no choice."

Annie's throat grew unnaturally tight. She gazed down at the bright yellow-and-green sofa cushion, a combination no doubt chosen for its cheerfulness. It sure wasn't cheering her now. When she spoke, the voice didn't seem to be her own. "What if Madeline and I were to move away?"

Henry regarded her keenly from his heavy hooded eyes. "You mean out of state?"

Annie nodded. "Maybe even out of the country. To someplace hard to find."

Henry shook his head. "Jake .Chastain has a lot of money, Annie—the kind of money that has long arms. I'm afraid you'd simply end up depleting your resources to no good end. And there's another issue to consider, as well. You could end up looking reckless and unstable, uprooting the child and moving away for no reason. That's the sort of thing that could work against you in a custody battle."

"Work against me?"

"If Chastaine decides to go for full custody of the child, he'll try to prove you're an unfit mother."

Annie stared at Henry, her head reeling. Her whole life revolved around Madeline. From the moment she got up in the morning to the moment she fell asleep— not to mention any time Madeline awoke or murmured during the night—the child's well-being was Annie's chief concern. "How could anyone think I'm unfit?"

"No one who knows you would ever think that," Henry reassured her. "But that doesn't mean a judge couldn't be persuaded otherwise."

"But it wouldn't be the truth!"

"I hate to say it, Annie, but the truth doesn't always win out. It's all in how the facts are presented."

Annie's spirits slumped. The thought of sharing Madeline was gut-wrenching. The idea of losing her altogether was unbearable. "Do you think he could do that?"

Henry's eyes were grim. "It's not outside the realm of possibility. Especially for a firm like Morrison and Chastaine."