The Baby Surprise (3 page)

He'd found his daughter.

And seeing the baby in Paige's arms had absolutely terrified him.

He'd seen and experienced some unbelievable things during his years in the Air Force, all without batting an eye. But the sight of that beautiful little girl, so small and vulnerable and completely dependent, had nearly knocked him on his ass.

 

After Zach left, Paige stood beside Emma's crib, tears streaming down her cheeks as the truth of the situation sank in. She could try to block Zach Crawford at every turn, she could stall him with all kinds of legal maneuvering, but her efforts would only delay the inevitable. Because she knew too well that the interest of a previously unknown father was a significant change in circumstances that could—and would—successfully challenge her custody decree.

And losing Emma would break her heart.

Why did you do it, Olivia? Why did you lie about Emma's father?

Of course, her friend couldn't answer her questions now,
and Paige found herself cursing in frustration. And then she felt guilty for cursing a woman who had died so young and so tragically—a woman who had been one of her closest friends and yet, in retrospect, a woman she wasn't sure she had really known at all.

If I'd known, I would have been prepared for the possibility that Emma's father might show up someday. Instead, you let me fall in love with this child, never guessing that Zach Crawford might show up and want to take her away.

She had no doubt that was what he planned to do. A man who had risen to the rank of lieutenant colonel was undoubtedly dedicated, honorable and trustworthy—definitely not the type of man to walk away from his own child.

But maybe Emma wasn't his child. Maybe, despite Olivia's letter, her friend was mistaken about the baby's paternity. Because aside from the eye color, she really hadn't seen any resemblance between Zach and Emma. The man was a complete contrast to the child. He was so solid and strong and—

The mental image was so vivid that her heart actually skipped a beat, and Paige cursed herself for the uncharacteristic weakness. She wasn't usually the type of woman to get all fluttery and tongue-tied over a handsome man, and letting her imagination run wild with respect to Zach Crawford wasn't just futile—it was dangerous.

I don't want us to be adversaries.

But they were, and she needed to remember that and forget that the lieutenant colonel had stirred feelings she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Z
ach didn't usually dream. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that he didn't usually remember his dreams. But when he bolted up in bed early the next morning, the details were fresh in his mind and his heart was pounding hard and fast from the adrenaline that had surged through his system.

He scrubbed his hands over his jaw, blinked away the last remnants of slumber and reminded himself that it had only been a dream.

But it had felt so unbelievably and terrifyingly real.

He was flying an F-22 Raptor in enemy skies when the jet suddenly started to spin. He couldn't get the plane under control and he was dropping fast. He swore and he prayed, then he reached for the ejection handle.

But he felt no relief when he successfully punched out, only an escalating sense of panic when the parachute failed to deploy. Then he glanced down and saw that there was a baby
sitting in his lap. A tiny little girl who looked up at him with wide, trusting blue eyes. And all he could do was hold on to her and fervently pray as they plunged toward the ground.

He pushed himself out of bed and strode toward the bathroom. A quick flick of his wrist had the shower running, and he stripped away his briefs and stepped under the pounding spray, desperate to clear the lingering shadows of the dream from his mind.

He didn't need a psychiatric assessment to know that learning he was a father had sent his whole world spinning out of control. What worried him more was to think that maybe the dream hadn't simply been a manifestation of his own fears but an omen—a warning that his sudden appearance in Emma's life could tear her away from the safety and security of the life she had with her legal guardian.

And suddenly an image of Paige Wilder filled his mind.

The gleaming coppery hair, the dark chocolate-colored eyes and the distinctly feminine curves packed quite a punch. There was no denying that he'd felt an immediate jab of purely sexual attraction the moment she'd opened her door. But it was more than her obvious physical beauty that tugged at him. It was the stubborn tilt of her chin, the determined glint in her eyes and the realization that this woman was as fiercely protective of the little girl who had been placed in her care as a mother bear would be of her cubs.

But Zach wasn't going to be scared off by anything she said or did because that little girl was his daughter. He was sure of it. And he suspected that Paige was sure of it, too, but she was going to drag things out, hoping that he would have to go wheels up again before anything was resolved.

If that was the case, Paige Wilder was in for a surprise because Zach wasn't going anywhere without his daughter.

 

Emma was still sound asleep when the sun started to peek over the horizon, but Paige crawled out of bed anyway. Oh-
nine-hundred was definitely a more civilized hour, but she knew that the promise of French toast would be enough to summon her cousins for a quick breakfast meeting before Zach arrived.

Ashley was a first-grade teacher who'd never wanted anything more than she'd wanted a family, and in the past year she'd ended her engagement to a cheating fiancé and then married the high-school sweetheart who had moved back to town. Now she was stepmother to his darling little girl and expecting a baby of her own in just about three months. Megan was the vice president of research and development at Richmond Pharmaceuticals, married to the company president's youngest son and in her ninth month of pregnancy.

The three of them had traditionally met once a month for Sunday brunch and, occasionally, on Friday nights just to hang out together. It used to be that their social gatherings included as much wine as conversation, but that had changed in the past year since first Megan and then Ashley got pregnant and Paige learned she'd been entrusted with custody of Emma.

But the camaraderie they shared and their trust in one another hadn't changed, and Paige knew they never would. And that was why she'd come home—to be with these women who knew her better than anyone else ever had, who understood her hopes and dreams, and who would understand how confused and conflicted she was feeling right now.

As if on cue, Ashley was at the door with her seven-yearold stepdaughter just as the coffee finished brewing and Emma woke up.

“I hope you don't mind that I brought Maddie,” she said. “I figured she could help keep Emma busy while we talked and then she and I can leave for school directly from here.”

“Of course I don't mind,” Paige said because, aside from the fact that she was grateful Ashley was there, she absolutely adored Maddie.

“Do you like French toast?” she asked.

The child's eyes sparkled as she nodded her head enthusiastically. “I
love
French toast.”

“Then you get the first piece,” Paige decided, dipping a slice of bread into the egg batter, then dropping it into the hot pan.

Her cousins were the reason she'd come back to Pinehurst when the proverbial rug had been pulled out from beneath her feet. Of course, she'd had no idea then that things were going to get a lot worse before they got better—and she was keeping her fingers crossed that they would get better—but she knew she could count on Ashley and Megan to stand by her and support her whatever she decided to do.

“Mmm, I smell French toast,” Megan said, waddling into the kitchen a few minutes later.

“I promised you breakfast,” Paige reminded her.

“So you did,” Megan agreed. “But you know we would have come even without the bribe.”

Paige nodded, tears stinging her eyes as she slid the spatula under the bread and flipped it in the pan.

And although she knew her cousins had to be curious about the reason for her frantic phone calls last night, they didn't press her. Instead, they worked around one another in the kitchen—Paige making the toast, Ashley serving it up for the kids, Megan brewing the herbal tea her sister had always preferred while sipping half a cup of coffee generously doctored with milk for the benefit of the baby she was carrying.

When Maddie had finished her breakfast and washed up, she took Emma into the living room to play with her, and the three adults sat down with their plates.

“Is this about the hunky guy Melanie saw you with last night?” Ashley asked.

“When did you see Melanie?” Paige countered.

“What hunky guy?” Megan wanted to know.

“Melanie was walking her dog when Maddie and I were on our way over here. She told me that there was a tall, dark-haired and very handsome man at your door last night and that you invited him inside. But not for very long, she assured me. Just about long enough for a cup of coffee, and then he was on his way again.”

Paige shook her head. “Remind me again why I decided to stay here.”

“Because you wanted to take some time to figure out your future, because you wanted to be closer to Megan and I, and because it's a great neighborhood where the residents look out for one another.”

“Is that another way of saying ‘spy on one another'?”

“Who cares about the neighborhood?” Megan said. “I want to hear about the hunky man.”

Paige swirled a piece of French toast in syrup, then set her fork down again without eating it. Even the coffee that was as necessary to her system as oxygen in the morning wasn't sitting comfortably in her stomach, and the breakfast she'd prepared held even less appeal.

“The hunky man is Lieutenant Colonel Zach Crawford of the United States Air Force. He claims—”

She thought she could get through this without any more tears, but the moisture that filled her eyes proved otherwise.

“He claims to be Emma's father.”

“Emma's father?” The shock in Ashley's voice echoed Paige's initial response to Zach's announcement. She nodded.

“Did he have any proof?” Megan demanded. As a successful research scientist, she was skeptical of anything that couldn't be proven.

“He had a letter…from Olivia.”

Megan reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “Olivia named you as Emma's guardian.”

“I know. But if it turns out that he is her father—” She couldn't finish the thought.

But she didn't need to. When Ashley reached for her other hand, she knew that they understood the bond she'd formed with Emma. It didn't matter that she hadn't carried the child in her womb or given birth to her—she'd taken prenatal classes with Olivia, coached her through the birth and, after the doctor and the mother, she'd been the first to hold the newborn baby.

Still, it was more than that. It was the realization that when Olivia died, the child had no one. And admittedly, there had been more than a few moments when Paige had cursed her friend for naming her the baby's guardian, moments when she'd fervently wished Olivia had chosen someone—anyone—else.

But now things were different. They had a routine, and a connection. When Emma cried, Paige instinctively knew whether she was wet or hungry or tired or just wanted to be held. And she'd found that nothing comforted her so much as offering comfort to the baby she'd grown to love as if she were her own.

“If he'd shown up five months ago—heck, maybe even five weeks ago—I might have jumped at the opportunity to turn Emma over to him. But now…I can't imagine my life without her.”

“You're the expert on custody matters,” Ashley reminded her. “So all I'll say is, whatever you need, we're here for you.”

“Absolutely,” Megan agreed.

Paige knew it was true, and their unwavering support meant the world to her. “Thanks. At this point, I don't know what I need, what he plans to do. I got the impression that he discovered the letter from Olivia when he got home from an overseas tour, tore off to confront her, found out she'd been killed and that I had custody of the baby, and raced out here
without really thinking about what he planned to do when he finally came face-to-face with the child that he believes is his own.”

“Poor man,” Ashley murmured sympathetically. Then her gaze flew to Paige's. “Not that I'm taking his side. Of course not. I just can't help thinking that the news must have thrown him for a loop.”

“You mean like when Paige found out she'd been named Emma's legal guardian?” Megan asked her sister.

Ashley nodded. “But at least Paige knew the baby existed. This guy didn't even know he'd had a child.”

“If she's even his baby,” Paige felt compelled to interject.

“You don't think he is Emma's father?”

“I don't know what to think, why Olivia never told anyone about him. Any time I tried to get information about her child's father, she stonewalled me. And yet, if I believe him, if I believe she wrote the letter he showed me, then she had a change of heart and decided to tell him about the child. She wanted him to be a part of her daughter's life.”

“What do you want?” Ashley asked gently.

“I want
him
to have a change of heart—to have woken up this morning and, in the light of day, realize that he's not ready to take on the responsibility of being a father and just disappear as unexpectedly as he appeared.”

But she knew it wasn't going to happen.

A fact that was confirmed when Zach's SUV pulled into the driveway while she was saying goodbye to Ashley and Maddie a few minutes later.

Ashley paused on the step, obviously wanting to hang around and meet him. But Maddie tugged on her hand, a silent reminder that they both had to get to school, and with a last wave, she was gone.

Unfortunately, Megan was still inside. But Paige had in
vited Zach to come by, so she gestured for him to follow her into the house.

As she was introducing Zach and Megan, she heard the soft slap of the baby's hands on the ceramic tile floor as she crawled toward the sound of familiar voices. When she rounded the corner and spotted Paige, those big blue eyes lit up and her mouth curved in a wide smile.

Beside her, she heard Zach's breath catch.

Emma heard it, too, because she looked over at him, then actually scooted back a step. And the little girl, whose exposure to the male species had been limited and who had certainly never met anyone as big and imposing as the man in front of her now, started to cry.

Paige wanted to scoop the child into her arms, to hold her and hug her and promise her that the big scary man would go away and everything was going to be okay. But it was a promise she knew she wouldn't be able to keep, so she stood motionless, helpless, while Zach squatted beside the teary child.

He murmured softly to her, so softly that Paige couldn't hear the words that were said. But despite the soothing tone, Emma turned away, tears tracking down her cheeks as she crawled over to where Paige was standing. Grabbing hold of her pant leg, she pulled herself up and hung on, peeking at the stranger from behind the shelter of Paige's leg.

Zach stood, too, and sighed wearily.

“She's a little wary of strangers,” Paige told him.

She expected he would again claim that he was her father, but he seemed to understand that even if that was true, he was also a stranger.

“But she warms up quickly,” Megan interjected, as if to reassure Zach. Then she ruffled Emma's soft curls. “Don't you, Em?”

The little girl looked up at her and smiled shyly. Then, ap
parently bored with the adult conversation, she dropped down to the floor again and crawled back to the living room.

“I want to get the paternity test done as soon as possible,” Zach told Paige.

“All right,” she agreed, biting back a more elaborate retort that would have let him know in clear terms that what she wanted was for him to descend into the fiery underworld.

Megan sent her a look that warned her cousin that she knew what evil thoughts were lurking in her mind, then she turned to Zach and asked, “What are you going to do in the meantime?”

“I had originally planned to fly out to California tomorrow, but finding out about Emma changed those plans.”