Maternal Instinct (27 page)

Fear banded his chest. What if she'd lost the baby? Was she grieving silently even as she tried to figure out how to tell him there was no reason for this marriage and, by the way, he could pack his bags in the morning?

Don't be paranoid,
he told himself. She'd have called. After a miscarriage, wouldn't doctors have kept her overnight at the hospital? It had to be something else. Something trivial.

He fell asleep after convincing himself that Nell wasn't used to this marriage thing yet. She'd tell him tomorrow what had upset her.

Only, the next day he didn't see her. She didn't call, she didn't leave a note, and she stiffened again when he touched her that night in bed.

Something was wrong, all right, but she wasn't talking to him. Lying awake in the dark bedroom, Hugh felt a rock where his heart should be.

Face it, he thought grimly. Why would she confide in him, considering she hadn't wanted to marry him in the first place?

Chapter 12

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H
ugh had expected
a different atmosphere altogether at Saturday breakfast. Today was the start of two days off for both of them. He'd envisioned a lazy, good-humored sharing of toast and the paper. A little talk about the news, some planning for the days stretching ahead of them, maybe a sexual spark—after all, they could please themselves on their days off, couldn't they?

His mouth twisted behind the sports page. Who was the eternal optimist here? The cold shoulder he'd been getting meant only that Nell was tired, he had told himself. Frustrated with long days behind a desk and nausea that didn't seem to want to let up.

Apparently he'd been kidding himself.

Nell had hardly looked up from the paper, even as her breakfast, prepared by him, grew cold on her plate. She huddled inside her bathrobe as if the terry cloth folds were cover and he a nearby hunter she instinctively knew to be a danger.

Hugh took a bite of scrambled eggs and saw that she was studying the colorful advertising insert for Mervyn's, a local department store.

"Going shopping?" he asked idly.

She didn't look up. "I suppose," she said, voice dispirited.

"You look thrilled."

"I need maternity clothes. I'm not even three months along, and I'm already bursting out of my clothes."

"Ah."

"What's
that
supposed to mean?" Nell flared.

Taken aback, he raised his brows. "Absolutely nothing. Do you want company?"

She sighed heavily. "No. Oh, I suppose I'll take Kim.
She
likes to shop. Besides, she never did get much new for school this fall."

That was it? She was in a bad mood because she had to go shopping?

"My apartment lease is up at the end of this week," Hugh said, testing the waters. "I'm going to move some stuff today, if that's okay with you."

"Why wouldn't it be?" She'd managed to sound both disagreeable and disinterested, all in a few words. Quite a trick.

"You're in a hell of a mood," Hugh snapped. He was getting damned tired of the chill, especially given that he had no idea what he'd done wrong or what was bugging her.

"There's nothing wrong with my mood." She slapped the Mervyn's ad to one side and reached for another one.

"You've hardly spoken to me in days."

She looked directly at him, chilly dislike in her eyes. "We're talking now, aren't we?"

Hugh took a swallow of coffee, adding its bite to the acid already eating at his stomach. "I've had friendlier conversations with convicts I was transporting."

Nell flinched. After a minute, she muttered, "I'm sorry. I guess pregnancy doesn't agree with me."

Pregnancy? More likely, marriage didn't agree with her. Or he didn't. Take your pick.

But okay, he'd take her at her word. "Our schedule sucks. I've missed you."

Her eyes filled with tears and she abruptly bowed her head. Somehow her tone was still irritatingly flip when she said, "Absence is supposed to make the heart grow fonder."

He chose not to mention the equally popular adage,
out of sight, out of mind.

Nell blew her nose. "The way I'm acting, you should be glad you don't have to be around me any more than you do."

Her watery voice gave him hope. "I won't be on swing next week."

"What?" She really looked at him for the first time. "Why?"

"John wants me back on the task force." Hugh made no effort to hide his triumph. "He read my report and says he buys our explanation hook, line and sinker."

"Really?" A big smile rewarded him. "Hugh, that's great!"

"I wish you were still with me."

"I wish I was, too." She wrinkled her nose. "But if I were, that would mean we weren't married and none of this—" her hand lightly touched her belly "—had happened."

He didn't have the guts to ask if she'd take it all back in a heartbeat if she could. He didn't want to know.

"Let's do something this weekend," he said impulsively. "Do you feel okay?"

"I guess." Nell sounded wary. "What do you have in mind?"

"Not shopping." He grimaced. "Sorry. Unless you're desperate for my company."

Pathetic creature that he was, he half hoped she'd say she was, beg him to come loiter outside women's dressing rooms and give his opinion on one shirt that looked fine as opposed to another.

But she shook her head. "I wouldn't subject you to that. And maternity clothes! Already!" That was the part that seemed to make her the maddest. With a sigh, she continued, "I'm hoping they've improved in the last sixteen years. Last time around, I couldn't even find jeans. I had to wear these hideous black polyester things that got little snags. Of course," she admitted, momentarily looking reminiscent, "I mostly shopped at secondhand stores. I couldn't afford The Bon."

"If you can't find what you want," he promised recklessly, "we'll take a trip to Seattle. There must be specialty shops."

"Expensive
specialty shops."

"We can afford it. We're two-income now, remember?"

The way her forehead puckered, she didn't like the reminder. But she nodded. "I might take you up on the offer."

She was probably deciding her need for huge-
waisted
clothes was his fault, anyway.

"Are you still sick to your stomach?"

"Actually—" she frowned, as if considering "—no. Hey!" Her expression lightened. "It's been days, and I hadn't even noticed!"

Hugh grinned and lifted his coffee cup. "A toast."

She lifted hers, too, even though it contained a raspberry herbal tea, which she had pronounced to be tasteless. "I can't believe it! No more puking."

"No more puking?" Kim asked from the doorway. Her blond hair was tousled and her long legs bare beneath a short T-shirt
nightie
. "Are you better?"

"Mm-hm." Nell tried to sound casual, but even Hugh could see through it. "What are your plans for today?"

Kim stretched and yawned. "Colin wants to hang out."

"Gee, is that news?" her mother muttered under her breath.

As if she hadn't heard, Kim gracefully tucked one leg under herself and folded into a chair. Grabbing a piece of toast, she slathered jam on it. "Actually, I thought I might call Morgan. See if she wants to go to the mall or something."

"Do you even remember her phone number?" Nell asked acidly.

Kim looked vaguely surprised at her mother's tartness. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you haven't called her in months?"

Hugh considered kicking his thick-skinned wife under the table, but had a suspicion she'd miss the hint. Was she
trying
to get Kim's back up?

"I do see her at school every day," Kim said defensively. "Remember? We both have to go?"

Hugh cleared his throat. "Since neither of you has plans, what say we do something together? Besides shopping," he added hastily.

Kim was looking sullen, her mother sour.

"Like what?" the sixteen-year-old asked with grave suspicion.

"I told you I have to go shopping," Nell said sulkily.

He suggested the first thing that came to mind. "Hiking. We can go up to the rain forest. Nell, you said you'd never been. Why not today?"

She scowled at him. "Because…"

"Because?" Hugh prompted.

"I should do laundry. And the lawn needs mowing."

"I'll mow tomorrow before we go to John's," he coaxed.
"And
help with the laundry."

With amused affection, he decided she looked no older than sixteen herself with that expression on her face. She wanted to say no just to spite him, he could see, but she was also intrigued and maybe tempted.

"I don't have anything to wear."

Sensing victory in his grasp, Hugh smiled. "We'll stop at the mall on the way."

"Oh … okay," his grumpy wife surrendered.

"Kim?" He raised a brow.

"Cool," his stepdaughter declared. "Shall we pack a picnic lunch?"

"You bet."

Hugh swallowed the last of the coffee in his cup and rose to his feet. "Then let's get this show on the road. I'll clean up the breakfast dishes if you make sandwiches, Kim. Nell, do you need to shower?"

She did. With a slightly martyred air, she vanished toward the bedroom. Kim gave Hugh a big grin. "You're good," she told him.

He smiled back, smugly. "Damn right I am."

Nell was feeling
ashamed of herself by the time they reached the trailhead. She wasn't usually so … petty. Hugh was trying, she had to give him credit, and the least she could do was the same. No, she'd never liked living a lie, but were they? She wished she'd known how much he detested the idea of marriage, home and hearth, but how could he have told her? If he had, she'd have been sure to say no, and he was too much the gentleman to give himself such an easy out.

He
was the one who was supposed to be miserable and if he could be decent nonetheless, who was she to be the cold, soggy blanket?

The trouble was, she'd never been very good at pretending. Her mother had always declared that Nell was lacking in social graces, which she figured were a euphemism for lies. And the truth was,
she
was miserable. Since the day his mother had stopped by, Nell had spent every unoccupied minute wondering how unhappy Hugh really was and how much effort he had to exert to pretend he wanted her and was content to move into her house.

When he slipped into bed late at night and reached for her, was he relieved when she faked being asleep? Or was he just figuring a little sex was his only payoff for spending the rest of his life in shackles?

She
knew
there must be things he'd have rather done today than spend it with her daughter and her. But he'd put on such a darn good pretence of wanting their company, how could they have turned him down? Serves him right, Nell thought, wanting to be vindictive but failing. Why was he so damn nice? She didn't
deserve
it. Not only had she been a witch all week, but she had taken him up on his marriage proposal way too fast. She'd
wanted
to marry him, Nell recognized wretchedly. He was her … her dream prince, and suddenly he could be hers. She hadn't had the fortitude to say no.

And now
he
was the one being nice, and she was awful to him, mostly because she felt guilty.

That guilt stabbed deeper as she got out of the car and adjusted the elastic waistband of her new denim maternity leggings, topped with one of those asinine T-shirts that said, Baby On Board and had an arrow pointing to her belly. Kim had absolutely insisted she buy it, even though Nell wasn't really big enough yet.