Maternal Instinct (18 page)

"I'm fine."

"Uh-huh."

Her nostrils flared, but after a reluctant moment she stood back. "Come in. Do you want a cup of coffee?"

"Sure."

He liked her kitchen. The cabinets were painted a warm yellow and the countertops were a terra-cotta-colored tile. Morning sun streamed through the sash window above the kitchen sink onto the brick floor. Too bad her mood wasn't as sunny.

He had to curl his hands into fists in his jeans pockets to keep from offering help as she laboriously poured two mugs and carried them one at a time to the farm table that filled the generous floor space. Nell didn't wear a sling, although Hugh knew they'd given her one, but she did hold her right arm awkwardly against her body.

"Everything okay with Kim?" he asked.

"Oh … temporarily." With a sigh Nell sat. "She's so volatile. The shock of seeing me in the hospital scared her. I'm all she has." Nell wrinkled her nose. "Except for Colin, of course."

"Not the same."

"No. I suppose not." She looked pensive. "Fear briefly overcame her outrage. It will resurface."

"Kids never like it when their parents show their human spots."

She scowled at him. "You're always doing that. Uttering these bits of pithy wisdom. What do
you
know about children?"

She was right. He had nerve, claiming to be an expert about territory he had only visited. "Only what I've learned from my nieces and nephews. John and Connor both have kids, you know."

"But you're right," she continued. "Me, I didn't just do one of those mildly embarrassing things parents do all the time. No, I bared myself in a big way. I had sex. I'm pregnant. I'm not married."

Hugh kept his gaze on his coffee cup. Steam rose lazily from the dark brew. "Have you thought about it?" he asked, tone neutral.

She was silent for a moment. "Did you mean everything you said?"

What had he said?

Her stare was fierce now. "You intend to make this a real marriage? You don't expect to keep a—a Kelly on the side?"

The coffee sloshed. Hiding his anger, Hugh set down the cup and kept his voice almost conversational. "I think I'm insulted."

"Why?"

"I was raised to believe—"

Real distress in her eyes, she cried, "I don't know what you were raised to believe! I don't know you!"

His anger ran out as if she'd pulled the drain. Hugh reached out and gripped her hand, feeling the strength and fragility that combined seemed to define this unusual woman. "You will," he said quietly. "I may have dated plenty of women, but I've never asked one to marry me. I … respect marriage. Divorce is failure."

She searched his eyes, her own still wide and curiously vulnerable. "Okay," she whispered. "Then I'll marry you. It … makes things right for Kim. And this baby." Her hand covered her belly.

The simple gesture brought deep emotion welling into his throat. His wife to be. His child.

He had never been sure he would find himself here. Hadn't been sure he wanted to. He was still uneasy that they were going about this ass-backward. A childhood ditty played in his memory:
First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage.
Was he a fool to think love would come at all? Hell, what if they ended up disliking each other?

He wasn't sure he could speak, with this lump in his throat. He hoped his nod wasn't brusque.

She swallowed coffee, he did the same. After a few minutes they talked about practicalities, as if where they lived and who married them mattered.

Now, in his mother's kitchen, Hugh procrastinated. "Smells good."

"We're having a turkey breast with my rolls and baked beans." Her sourdough rolls were manna from heaven. She held out a pile of napkins. "Why don't you put these on the table since you're here?"

He didn't move. "Mom, I have something I want to tell you, before everyone gets here."

With one part of his attention, he saw her hand slowly drop. Her face paled. "You've made an arrest?"

"An arrest?" He frowned, then realized what she was talking about. "Oh. Uh, no. This is … personal."

"Personal," she repeated dumbly.

He made himself spit it out. "I'm getting married."

The napkins still dangled from one hand. Her other went to her breast. "You're …
what?"

Doggedly, he continued, "Her name is Nell
Granstrom
. She's another cop. My partner right now. We've, uh…" He cleared his throat. "We were careless. She's pregnant."

"I don't understand." He had never heard her sound so shaken. "You've been working such long hours. You were investigating…"

Confused, he said, "Yeah. Yeah, I was. I am."

Her face was suddenly drawn with anger. "Don't you
care?"

"Of course I care!" Hugh felt as if he'd wandered into Wonderland and the Queen of Hearts was toying with him. "What the hell does that have to do with Nell?"

"You've been having an affair when you should have been focusing on your father's—" She froze.

He got it. "Not my father's murder. I can't solve that, Mom."

"It was a slip of the tongue." She turned away, concentrating on squaring the napkins she set on the counter. "You know what I mean."

"I'm entitled to a life." Rage choked him just as emotion had that morning at Nell's, but this time it didn't silence him. He uttered a sharp expletive that brought her head up in shock. "John's right. You think our entire purpose in life is to avenge Dad's death. You don't give a flying you-know-what whether we're happy or in love or have children to raise for their own sakes. To you, we're … weapons." He made a harsh sound. "Connor let you down big time, didn't he? Blunted himself. I'm surprised you still speak to him."

Her eyes were dark, her fine-boned face rice-paper white. "I never expected anything of you. You're wrong."

"No." He shook his head slowly, hard. "I'm not wrong. Well, here's news, Mom. Life goes on. I do my job, and I care about it, but
I
have a life outside it."
His jaw ached and he deliberately unclenched it. "I'll send you a wedding invitation." With that, he turned and walked out, ignoring his mother calling his name after him.

The clean getaway was spoiled when he found John just parking behind his car, blocking him in.

"Hey," his brother said with an easy grin as he got out of his family van and stretched. "You just get here?"

Distantly, Hugh realized every muscle in his body was locked tight. "Leaving," he said curtly. "What?"

"Uncle Hugh!" His blond niece, developing a figure now, launched herself at him. "Natalie let me get a perm! Look! Isn't my hair so cool?"

His sister-in-law, who had just lifted their youngest from her car seat, gave him a warning look.

"Yeah," Hugh said, trying to make himself see the froth of curls. "I like it."

"Uncle Hugh!" Evan was right behind his sister, chattering about a computer game and how he'd beaten
all
his friends, and did Uncle Hugh know what cool web sites you could visit, and—"

"Okay, okay," his father said, laughing. He made eye contact with his wife and nodded faintly toward the condo. She started shooing the kids in. John settled his butt on the hood of Hugh's Explorer. As soon as his family was out of earshot, he asked bluntly, "What's wrong?"

Another car pulled in behind the van.
Zofie
tumbled out, mouth flapping before her brain thought of anything to say, and right behind her were her parents and baby sister, Jenny. Connor was quick on the uptake, though, and before long the three brothers were left on the sidewalk in front of their mother's town house condominium.

Connor and John waited, brows raised.

Hugh rolled his shoulders. "I'm getting married."

"What?"
John exploded.

Connor was more temperate. "Picked a bride yet?"

He scraped a hand over his face. "Nell
Granstrom
."

Dead silence. Gaping mouths.

"We, uh…" He couldn't say it to them, either. "She's pregnant."

John shook his head in disbelief. "You were steamed when Fisher assigned you to work with her!"

Connor watched him with quiet eyes. "You're marrying her because she's pregnant."

"Shouldn't I?" Hugh exploded in his turn. "Isn't that the decent thing to do?"

"You've been
dating
her?" John asked incredulously. "Your partner?"

"Not dating. We just, uh…"

"We know what you did!" his oldest brother snapped.

Connor had been waiting patiently. "Do you
want
to marry her?"

Damn. Typical Connor to go for the heart. "Yeah," Hugh muttered. "I guess I do."

"You
guess?
Not good enough, Hugh."

"It's as good as it's going to get!" he snarled. "I'm trying here, okay? I don't know what I want!"

"Do you love her?" Unexpectedly, it was John who asked.

"I don't know," Hugh said again. He was twitching in agitation. "She pisses me off, but she makes me feel things…"

His two brothers exchanged a look Hugh couldn't read. Then John gave a crooked smile and held out one hand. "Congratulations. When's the wedding?"

"Couple of weeks. We have to talk to her pastor. You know. We won't do anything big. Just family." He couldn't believe he was talking about his own wedding. Ring on the finger like a shackle.
I
do. Until death do us part.
Dimly, he waited for panic to hit.

Forestalling the wave, Connor asked, "What did Mom say?"

Hugh told them.

They were silent for a moment, Connor gazing at the facade of the town house, a small frown drawing his brows together, John gazing down at his own feet, the lines in his face seeming to deepen.

"I won't say I told you so."

Hugh paced a few steps, rolled his shoulders again. "You just did."

"She loves us," Connor said.

John shrugged. "In her own way."

"Her own way is powerful." Connor's far-seeing eyes were still fixed on the front windows, as if he could penetrate the drapes and their mother's defenses with equal ease. "She's always been here for us."

John's mouth twisted. "She did her best. Yeah, yeah."

"I never believed you," Hugh said numbly. "I grew up hearing how a cop could change the world, but I figured that was because you became one and she was proud of you." Hugh shook his head. "But I was wrong. Dad's the one who counted. She actually started to say, I should have been focusing on his murder."

John turned a fierce stare on Connor. "Why?" he demanded. "Women lose their husbands all the time. Why couldn't she let go? Why this goddamn obsession?"

"I don't know," Connor said in a troubled voice. "She probably doesn't either. My guess is, something was wrong between them, and she never had a chance to fix it."

"Unresolved issues." Hugh grunted. "Is this
Ghostbusters?
You think we'll have her spirit with us forever, because she can't leave this plane until she resolves whatever's troubling her?"

"Maybe."

Hell.
He sounded serious.

"She should have had some counseling," Connor concluded.

John grunted. "She couldn't have afforded the money or time, even if the thought had ever occurred to her. Don't you remember those days?"

Hugh felt a burning hole in his chest. "So, what? She warped us?"

Connor transferred his gaze to his little brother. "Do you feel warped?"