Just For Christmas

CHAPTER TWO

LATER THAT EVENING, on her way home, Hope decided at the last minute to stop by Austin Eats Diner. After her meeting with Drake, she’d been too stirred up to eat lunch, and her stomach was gnawing in protest.

Since the diner was on the street corner right next to the clinic, it was often filled with Maitland Maternity staff. Thankfully, Drake wasn’t anywhere to be seen, but she quickly spotted a woman with dark hair in a booth by the window.

Hope made her way through the bustling diner and slid into the seat across from her friend Abby Maitland.

“I stopped by your office before I left the building,” Hope told her. “I was surprised to find you’d already left.”

Abby was the chief ob/gyn at Maitland. It was her mother, Megan, who had founded the clinic twenty-five years ago with her late husband and was still Maitland Maternity’s CEO. The same age as Hope, Abby had been her personal physician and dear friend for many years. Recently, she had become engaged to Kyle McDermott, a local businessman, and their wedding was only a week away. Hope was one of Abby’s bridesmaids. Along with her mother and twin sisters, Beth and Ellie, Abby had been frantically planning the details of the ceremony, which would no doubt be a major social event. Nothing about the Maitland family went unnoticed in Austin, especially of late.

“I had a couple of last-minute cancellations so my schedule ended up being light today,” Abby explained. Then with a bright smile, she asked, “What’s up?”

Hope’s expression turned sly. “Maybe I should ask you that. I heard through the clinic grapevine today that your younger brother Jake was on his way home. Is his return to Austin for your wedding? Or do you think he really might be Cody’s father?”

Groaning, Abby rolled her eyes. “I honestly don’t know what to think anymore. With all the women who’ve shown up at the clinic swearing to be the baby’s mother, you’d think the Maitland men had made love to half the female population of Texas.” She shook her head with disgust. “But as for Jake, none of us really know where he’s been or what he’s been doing. I guess it’s possible he might be the father. I just wish the whole thing would get resolved. The publicity is really wearing on Mother.”

Almost four months ago, Abby, her mother, Megan, brother R.J., and sister Ellie had discovered an abandoned baby boy in a basket at the back of Maitland Maternity. The only clue to the infant’s identity was a note pinned to his diaper, which read, “Dear Megan Maitland, This baby is a Maitland. Please take care of him until I can again.”

“Your mother is a strong woman, Abby. Otherwise, she would have cracked under the pressure she’s had piled on her these past few months.”

The corners of Abby’s lips turned downward and concern shadowed her blue eyes. “That’s true, Hope. But everybody has a breaking point. Every day I wonder just how close my mother is to reaching hers.”

Hope shook her head. “Something will happen to resolve this thing soon. It has to. And in the meantime, Megan has your wedding to look forward to. I know that seeing you married to the man you love is going to make her very happy.”

Appreciation warmed Abby’s eyes. “I needed to hear that, dear friend. Thanks for saying it.”

Before Hope could make any sort of reply, a waitress stopped beside their booth. Everyone called the young, blue-eyed blonde Sara, but no one knew her real name. She’d wandered into a local shelter a few months ago, suffering from amnesia, and still hadn’t regained her memory. Nor had anyone recognized her.

“Hi, Ms. Logan. Can I get you something this evening?”

“A Reuben sandwich and coffee will be fine, Sara. Thanks.”

The pretty waitress scratched the order on her pad, then hurried away. Hope turned her attention to Abby, who was staring thoughtfully after the young woman.

“Has anyone figured out who she is?”

Abby shook her head. “I don’t think so. There wasn’t much information for the authorities to go on. I guess the only thing anyone can do now is pray her memory returns.”

Hope glanced across the room to where the young waitress was serving coffee. “Isn’t there something medically that could be done for her? Some sort of drug or psychoanalysis?”

“Generally doctors like to let amnesiacs heal on their own. It’s not good to try to force a memory.”

The same way it wasn’t good for Hope to try to force Drake into trying for another baby. That was why she hadn’t fought him when he’d announced he wanted to move out of the house. She didn’t want to beg or cajole or demand anything from him. If he ever decided to give her another chance to have a child, she wanted him to do it willingly. A baby should be something they both longed for, not something he felt obligated to give Hope. But so far, his mind was closed to the idea.

“How are things going with you?”

Abby’s question interrupted Hope’s bleak thoughts. Her gaze drifted to her friend. “I asked Drake to come home today. And he agreed.”

Surprise, then joy lit Abby’s face. “That’s wonderful, Hope! I’m so glad to hear it.”

Before Abby could get too excited, Hope held up her hand. “It’s not what you’re thinking, Abby. He’s not moving back because he wants to. He’s doing it for his nephew, Stevie.”

Abby’s brows lifted. “His sister’s child?”

Hope nodded grimly. “Stevie’s parents are going to be gone for a month, and Drake has agreed to move back in to help me with him.”

“Oh.” Abby thoughtfully sipped her coffee. After a moment, she asked, “Are you sure you’re doing the right thing, Hope?”

It was no secret to Abby how much Hope wanted to try to get pregnant again. As her doctor, Abby had assured her the problems with her first pregnancy were highly unlikely to recur. Miscarriages were painful and heartbreaking, but they were also common. Most women went on to deliver healthy, normal babies. Abby was fairly certain Hope would fall into that category, and Hope had every confidence Abby was right. Drake, however, could not be convinced.

“What do you mean, mistake? Do you think I shouldn’t have asked Drake to come home?”

Before Abby could answer, Sara returned with Hope’s sandwich. After filling both their coffee cups, the waitress moved on to the next table.

Hope picked up her sandwich and tried not to let the doubtful frown on Abby’s face ruin her appetite.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, Hope. But—” She shrugged as she carefully considered her next words. “I was just thinking that Drake has been telling you over and over he doesn’t want a child. He even made that clear before the two of you were married. And then when he did finally relent and you got pregnant—well, we won’t go into that right now—I don’t have to tell you how devastated he was when you lost the baby. I’m just wondering if having Stevie around might be a reminder of all that pain.”

Hope glanced out the window of the Austin Eats Diner. The streets were growing dark, and she needed to head home as soon as she finished her sandwich. Drake would show up before too long, and she needed to be ready for his arrival. In more ways than one.

“That’s a chance I have to take, Abby.”

Abby glanced at her sharply. “Is this child that important to you? I wasn’t aware that you were close to Denise, much less her son.”

“We’re not close,” Hope admitted. “It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen Stevie. But that last time was enough—” She broke off as her throat tightened at the memory. “I can’t remember ever seeing such a sad, troubled child, Abby. And when Denise started whining about leaving him at boarding school if Drake and I couldn’t keep him, well…”

Abby nodded knowingly. “Your soft heart caved in.”

Hope made a palms-up gesture. “Guilty as charged. And I know it seems foolish, offering to spend my whole holiday taking care of someone else’s child, but—”

A knowing smile tilted Abby’s lips. “You want to try to give the kid at least one memorable Christmas.”

“How can I expect to be the mother of an adopted child if I can’t even bother to see that my own nephew is nurtured for one month?”

“I see your point.”

Hope’s gaze searched Abby’s face. “But you’re still not convinced I’m doing the right thing.”

Her friend’s features wrinkled into a scowl. “I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to. I can see it all over your face.”

“Forget about Stevie for a moment and consider this,” Abby said. “Your marriage hasn’t ended yet. There’s still a chance to save it.”

“How?” Hope groaned. “By giving up everything I’ve ever wanted? I don’t know that I could be happy that way, Abby. I love Drake, but I want to be a mother.”

Abby reached across the table and gave Hope’s hand an encouraging squeeze. “Believe me, I understand how you feel,” she said gently. “Year after year, I’ve helped bring scores of babies into the world. But delivering a new life is not the same as creating one yourself. I’ve stopped counting the times I’ve asked myself when it will be my turn to take one of those bundles of joy home with me.”

Hope nodded glumly. “That’s true. We’ve both been in the same boat for a long time. Except I had a husband and you didn’t. But now you’re about to be married and you’re going to get the child you want. I don’t even know if I’m going to continue to be Drake’s wife, much less have a baby with him. And as for the idea of adopting—well, as long as Drake and I are separated, I realize my chances are reduced somewhat.”

“Well, if Drake is so determined not to be a father, it’s obvious to me you’d have to cross the idea of adopting off your list if you hope to get back together,” Abby pointed out. “That’s why I’m wondering if this thing with Stevie will only cause more problems.”

Hope gave her friend a worried glance. “What kind of problems? I’ve been thinking—and hoping—that having Stevie around will help change Drake’s attitude about children.”

“Or make it worse,” Abby said, then quickly shook her head. “Oh, I don’t mean to sound pessimistic, Hope. But from what you’ve said, this child might have problems that a real parent would find hard to deal with, much less a man who doesn’t want to be a father.”

“That thought has run through my mind, too, Abby. But I can’t turn my back on the little boy. And deep down, I can’t believe Drake would be coldhearted enough to turn away from him, either. If he is, then…I’ve wasted all these years loving him.”

After that Hope carefully changed the subject to Abby’s wedding plans, and once she’d finished her sandwich, she said goodbye to her friend, then stopped by the counter to pay her bill.

Shelby Lord, the owner of the diner and a longtime acquaintance of Hope’s, stood behind the cash register.

“Hi, Hope. How are things going today?” Not waiting for an answer, the hardworking redhead leaned forward and lowered her voice for Hope’s ears only. “Have you made any headway with that husband of yours?”

Shelby was well-meaning, and Hope liked the other woman very much, but it was a known fact she was a bit of a busybody. Hope decided to keep the news of Drake’s moving back home to herself. Shelby would find out soon enough. Here in the diner, no news escaped her. And anyway, nothing had really changed between her and Drake. The only difference was that they’d be sleeping under the same roof.

“Not really, Shelby. Have you been busy today?”

The young woman wearily pushed a stray curl from her forehead as she searched through a stack of tickets jabbed on a spike. “Horribly. The place has been full all day. But that’s what I like to see.”

With the matching ticket finally in hand, she turned to Hope and the register. “You’ve probably already heard about Jake Maitland coming home.”

Hope nodded. “Everyone is saying he’s coming back because of baby Cody. But I’m not so sure. He might just be coming back for Abby’s wedding and to see his mother. You’re a friend of the family, Shelby. Surely you know him enough to have some ideas.”

Shelby’s green eyes twinkled, and a shrewd grin spread over her face. “Growing up, I thought he was the best-looking guy I’d ever met. But because I was a girl, I didn’t have the chance to know him like my brothers did—especially Garrett.”

“So you haven’t talked to him lately? Abby just told me she didn’t have a clue why her brother was coming home.”

Shelby shook her head. “I can’t remember the last time I talked to Jake. But I do think the timing of his return looks a mite suspicious. And since Jake moved away from Austin, no one seems to know what he’s been doing. Not even his own family.”

Hope handed her a bill large enough to cover the sandwich and coffee. “Well, just because he’s a private person doesn’t necessarily make him a prime suspect as the baby’s father.”

Shelby’s laugh was deep and rich as she counted Hope’s change to her. “You’re no fun at all, Hope. You’re just too darn logical.”

On the drive home, Hope thought about Shelby’s comment. Maybe she had become too objective. Maybe she was looking at this baby issue between her and Drake in terms that were only black and white.

But what other terms were there? she wondered grimly. She wanted to try to have a baby again. He didn’t. As things stood, they were at a bitter stalemate. And she was beginning to doubt Stevie or anything else could break it.

Drake and Hope’s two-story brick home was located in a quiet, well-to-do neighborhood just a street over from Abby’s Western-style stucco.

Not too many months ago, Drake had hired a crew of carpenters and painters to give each room a facelift. The results had been beautiful, but Hope had liked the house just as well before. Deep down, she knew Drake’s motive for undertaking the expensive renovation had been to dim their memories and make it harder for both of them to remember the rooms as they’d been before they’d lost the baby. And their dreams for the future.

With a weary sigh, she headed the car onto the wide circular drive. At one end of the four-car garage, she stopped long enough to push the remote to lift the door. Not until she’d pulled inside did she notice the dark green car parked at the far end.

It was Drake’s! He was already here!

Snatching her keys and purse, she quickly went inside the house. The kitchen was dark and quiet, so she hurried to the living room, only to find it empty, also. Drake was not to be seen in the den or the study, either. That meant he had to be upstairs in one of the bedrooms.

Her footsteps were soundless on the carpeted stairs and along the dimly lit landing. Ahead, she could see a long shaft of light coming from an open door. Hope walked steadily toward it, a mix of emotions swirling through her.

It wasn’t until she had taken two steps inside the room that Drake sensed her presence. He looked away from the dresser drawer where he’d been placing his underwear.

“I see you finally made it home.”

Letting his remark slide, she took another step toward him. “What are you doing here, Drake?”

He straightened to his full height, one corner of his mouth cocking upward in the semblance of a grin. “What does it look like? I’m moving back in. That is what you asked me to do.”

Confusion wrinkled her forehead. “Yes. But—” She made a sweeping gesture with her arm. “This is my bedroom.”

Slowly his thumb and forefinger rubbed the arrogant jut of his chin. “No. You’ve got it wrong, Hope. This is our bedroom. And if you want me to stay in this house for the next four weeks, then that’s the way it’s going to be.”

Hope felt her slender body quiver with outrage. “You can’t be serious!”

“Have you ever seen me when I wasn’t?”

No, she thought. Drake was a man who rarely joked. He’d often been accused by his friends of being as sober as a judge. And oddly, his lack of frivolity had been the very thing that had first drawn Hope to him. After living with a mother who considered life one big joke, Drake’s seriousness had comforted her. After ten years of marriage, his inflexibility had driven a wedge between them.

Quick, angry steps carried her across the room to where he stood by the dresser. “Why are you doing this?” she asked tightly.

One brow lifted questioningly as he looked at her. “You asked me to come home. To make believe we still love each other. Didn’t you?”

“Yes! For Stevie’s sake! But that doesn’t mean—” She vigorously shook her head. “He’s only six and a half years old. He doesn’t know a husband and wife normally sleep together!”

Drake couldn’t stop a bitter sneer from spreading across his lips. Apparently Hope hadn’t considered that it would take more than just having him under the same roof to convince Stevie they were a happy family. As for himself, he hadn’t thought of their sleeping arrangements until the moment he’d stepped into the house.

“That’s where you’re mistaken, Hope. When I was his age I knew something was wrong because my friends’ parents had one bedroom, and mine had two. So if you want this little farce with Stevie to work, then you’re just going to have to endure me being in the same bed.”

Her hands began to tremble. “I can’t!”

He turned to the dresser drawer and picked up a stack of underwear. He could have told her it wasn’t going to be easy for him, either. Just the thought of her being that close was enough to cause his stomach to tighten and his palms to sweat.

“Then maybe we’d better forget this whole thing right now,” he muttered tightly. “I thought it was a stupid idea, anyway.”

Hope had never had the urge to do bodily harm to anyone in her life. But at this very moment she would have taken great pleasure in kicking him right in the shins.

“You’re doing this on purpose,” she accused. “To spite me.”

Did he want to spite her? Drake asked himself. For making demands on him that he couldn’t keep? For ruining everything precious and dear about their marriage? He didn’t like to think so. Nor did he want to believe he was simply trying to see if she still wanted him in a physical way. As far as he was concerned, their sleeping together was just another part of the make believe.

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Sleeping with your husband is that abhorrent to you? I can remember a time when you never wanted to be out of my arms.”

She suddenly had to swallow as the truth of his words brought sweet memories rushing through her mind. “I’m not the one who called a halt to our sex life. You did that, Drake.” She turned away from him and stared at the floor as pain threatened to swamp her. “Obviously your distaste for having a child with me is far greater than your desire to make love to me.”

Bitter anger rose in him, and he forced himself to bite back several curse words. She didn’t want to understand or see that the mere thought of her getting pregnant again filled him with desperate fear. And not just fear of losing the tiny life they would create. It was the thought of losing Hope he couldn’t bear to even contemplate. No. She didn’t want to acknowledge his feelings in the matter. It was easier for her to simply paint him the selfish villain.

“You don’t want to admit that you gave me no choice in the matter,” he accused her. “It was either sex without birth control or no sex at all.”

His words so infuriated Hope that she whirled on him. “For years you gave me no choice. Sex with absolutely no hope of ever having a baby! Don’t talk to me about choice or manipulation!”

Drake released a deep breath, then wearily pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is exactly the reason I moved out, Hope. You and I both know that. Ten minutes haven’t passed since I’ve come back, and it’s starting all over again.”

He was right, she thought sadly. But what had he expected her to do when she’d found him moving into her bedroom as though he had a right to? He is still your husband, Hope, a little voice reminded.

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Drake. I just…didn’t expect this.” She gestured to his personal things scattered around the bedroom. “I had planned on you using one of the guest rooms.”

His face like stone, he moved away from her and began to search through a leather duffel bag on the end of the bed. “But I’m not here as a guest, Hope. If we’re going to give the appearance of a real husband and wife, this is the way it needs to be.” He glanced at her, his green eyes unyielding. “Or would you rather I leave and we’ll call the whole thing off?”

It was too late to call it off. Stevie would be here in the morning. The boy needed all the male guidance he could get.

“No,” she said quietly. “I don’t want you to leave.”

He straightened away from the duffel bag and faced her. “If you’re worried about me wanting to resume our sexual relationship, that’s not what any of this is about. From what you told me earlier today, this is all for Stevie. Isn’t that right?”

She nodded as an empty ache began to fill her heart. Of course he wasn’t moving into their bedroom for sex. She’d been crazy to think, even for a second, that he’d changed his mind and wanted to make love to her again. This was his way of torturing her. He wanted to remind her over and over what she was giving up, what she was missing night after night. And there was nothing she could do about it until Stevie’s stay was over.

“You’re right,” she said, then raised her chin to a determined angle. “And it’s not as if we’ve never slept together before. I can manage, if you can.”

His gaze raked her slender curves. “I wouldn’t be here if I thought I couldn’t.”

She really ought to hate him, Hope thought. She really should want to walk out and never look back. But she’d never been able to kill the love she felt for this man. It had run too deep and for too long to die a quick death. There was still a part of her that wasn’t ready to give up on him or their marriage. Not yet.

“Good,” she said with forced ease. “Then neither of us should have a problem.”

He turned his attention to the duffel bag. “No problem at all.”

Not for him, at least, she thought ruefully. “Well, I’ll let you get back to your unpacking. Have you had anything to eat? There’s fresh bread and cold cuts.”

“I’ve already eaten. I’m fine.”

He didn’t want to be here. She had forced him into it. The fact shouldn’t be crushing her heart. After all, he’d chosen to live away from her for many weeks now. But she couldn’t help wishing things between them were so very different.

“I’ll be in the den,” she said, then hurried toward the door.

Before she could pass through it, he called her name and she glanced at him, an ache in her heart and a painful lump in her throat.

“I wanted to—” He stopped, then with a rueful shake of his head said, “Nothing. Forget it.”