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The Widow’s Surprise Baby
When Annie Marshall discovers just weeks after her husband’s death that she’s carrying his baby, her sadness turns to hope. Scared of facing this all on her own, she reluctantly accepts the help of her husband’s best friend, Matthew Zelinsky. The kiss they shared after the funeral was just two friends comforting each other—or so she tells herself. Yet spending time together makes them wonder if what they feel is more than friendship. When people in town start raising eyebrows and her business begins to suffer from the gossip, Annie must decide if loving Matthew is worth the risk.
“You don’t have to worry about me, you know.”
“I know.” So why was he? Matthew thought about her a lot. Maybe too much. “But we both have to eat.”
She smiled. “I am hungry. Let me throw on a cover-up and we’ll go.”
“I’ll be right here.” He meant it, too. She could lean on him. “Always here for you. I hope you know that.”
This felt a lot like a date. Was he trying to date Annie Marshall? Surely, it was too soon to go there.
He glanced at the woman walking beside him. She was a few years older than him. Not that it mattered. Not to him. She’d always been beautiful.
Annie caught him staring. “What?”
“Nothing.” He really needed to cover this awkward awareness or they’d have an uncomfortable dinner together. “I was just picturing your feet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Real nice.”
It felt good to tease her. As if they were friends again and nothing had happened to change that. There was no reason to let one kiss change what they were. They were friends. He needed to remember that.
JENNA MINDEL lives in northwest Michigan with her husband and their three dogs. She enjoys a career in banking that has spanned over twenty-five years and several positions, but writing is her passion. A 2006 Romance Writers of America RITA® Award finalist, Jenna has answered her heart’s call to write inspirational romances set near the Great Lakes.
Falling for the
Mom-To-Be
Jenna Mindel
www.millsandboon.co.uk
Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
—Matthew 5:4
A huge thank-you to Doug LaLonde
for answering my many questions about
freighters and shipping on the Great Lakes.
You guys are rock stars out there!
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Introduction
About the Author
Title Page
Bible Verse
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Epilogue
Dear Reader
Extract
Copyright
Prologue
March
Annie Marshall stood in the middle of the produce section of a big chain grocery store the next town over from her own. People passed by her without a nod or glance. They didn’t know her. And that was good. Too many knew her in Maple Springs. If she’d have gone to the corner IGA, she’d have been showered with words of sympathy and pitiful looks.
Tonight, she wasn’t in the mood.
Annie had broken free from her house that was shrouded with whispers and mourning and did something normal people do. She went grocery shopping. She wanted freedom from her sister and their aunt and their careless coddling. Freedom from their compulsive comfort given to compensate for the geographic and emotional distance between them.
Tonight, she was mad.
Mad at God for taking her husband of fifteen years with a sudden heart attack, out of the blue. Mad at her aunt and sister for treating her like spun glass, ready to break. Mad at Jack for not taking better care of himself.
He’d never come home again.
Jack...
Her throat tightened, so she closed her eyes and counted.
Annie always counted when on the edge of losing it. It had started when she was a kid because her mom refused to let her throw tantrums. It came in handy when she’d received word of her parents’ death while in college. Her sister, barely high-school-aged, went to live with their aunt. Life went on.
And Annie had been counting since Jack’s funeral. A week ago? It seemed like years.
She felt a touch to her shoulder and spun.
“Hey.” Matthew Zelinsky searched her face. His blue eyes were dark with concern. “What are you doing over here?”
Annie’s throat went dry. “Shopping. What about you?”
“Same.” He shrugged as he glanced at her empty cart save for a bunch of bananas. Jack had loved bananas.
Matthew placed his empty basket on the floor and then lifted her bundle of fruit and put it back on the shelf. He took her by the hand. “Come on.”
Annie didn’t argue. She followed him outside into the cold, damp night. Snow banks still loomed high in the parking lot but had melted some from the day’s rain. Dirt and silt covered their tops. Thin layers of ice shone in the overhead lights where puddles had been. The end of March wasn’t pretty in northern Michigan.
Her breath blew cold smoke in front of her. “I saw you at the funeral, but you were gone before I could even talk to you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
He opened the passenger side of his pickup truck for her and she climbed in. The truck was big and loaded. Jack had gone with him at the end of January to pick it out. Off-season.
Matthew got in, started the engine and cranked up the heat.
She leaned back against the plush seats and sighed. “Nice truck. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, it’s great.” He turned toward her. “How are you?”
She shrugged, knowing she couldn’t put on a grand performance with Matthew. He knew her too well. “How am I supposed to be?”
“I don’t know.” He gave her a slanted smile. “If you figure it out, let me know.”
They sat in silence a moment. The only noise was the whirl of the heater. Matthew reached for her hand and she held on. There wasn’t anything either of them could say to make it better or worse. They both loved Jack. And now he was gone.
“I’m heading out in the morning.”
Annie felt another stab of loss.
Matthew was Jack’s best friend and first mate on a Great Lakes freighter where they’d worked together for years. Matthew had been the one to find Jack dead in his cabin after they’d been on the lakes only a week into the shipping season. Their freighter had loaded up at the calcite plant in Roger’s City around the time of Jack’s funeral, allowing some to attend.
Matthew had remained home a while longer, but his job wouldn’t wait forever. He had to go, catching ship at their next port.
“Have you got a new captain?” Her voice cracked on the last word. Jack’s title.
“An older guy, well experienced, has hired on for this season at least before retiring. So, we’ll see.”
Annie nodded. Maybe Matthew would move into Jack’s role in time. Jack had said he was ready.
Matthew flipped back the console between them and scooted over, gathering Annie into his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
She held him tight. “Me, too.”
He pulled back, his eyes watery and bright. “I let you down, Annie.”
“No, you didn’t.” She shook her head and cupped his dear face. Matthew was her friend, too. What could he have possibly done to change what had happened to Jack? “It’s only been a week, but I miss him.”
Matthew kneaded her shoulders. “I know.”
She welcomed the warmth of that rough massage. “Why did you leave right after the funeral?”
“I don’t know.” His voice softened. “I had to get away.”
Annie chuckled. She’d felt the same way. She would have bolted if she could have gotten away with it. But the whole town had been there. Many of Jack’s crew, too. And her mother-in-law would have tracked her down and dragged her back had she run.
“So, where’ve you been?” He hadn’t stopped by but once to drop off Jack’s things. She hadn’t been home at the time. Returning from a walk, she’d missed him.
He let his hands drop from her shoulders and shrugged, not looking at her. “I was in the UP for a few days.”
Annie nodded, wishing she could have escaped town for a while, too. A few times during the off-season, Jack had gone to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to snowmobile with Matthew and his brothers. Jack had loved it. She patted Matthew’s jeans-clad knee. “Well, be careful driving to catch ship.”
He glanced at her hand and then studied her face. “I will.”
She searched his serious expression. Something had changed in him. Annie could feel it. Something had changed in her, too. She pulled her hand back.
Matthew looked at her mouth.
Her heart pounded in her ears as he leaned closer and brushed his lips over hers. Featherlight and hesitant. He rested his forehead against hers and sighed. “Annie...”
Maybe he waited for encouragement or a sign to stop, but she could give neither. Matthew was warm and comforting. He understood her loss because he felt it, too.
Jack had left them both behind.
Matthew gripped her waist with big, strong hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” They were repeating themselves.
A small voice warned her to back away, but she sought his lips once more. A comforting kiss between friends still grieving, that’s all it was. A reminder that they hadn’t died, too, even though it felt like they had.
But as the kiss grew deeper and more insistent, Annie fought against the sensation of drowning. Breathing hard, she pulled away. Her eyes burned like hot coals blistering with shame. How could she?
“I’m sorry,” she choked out.
“Me, too.” His voice wasn’t steady, either.
Annie looked at the regret-filled horror on Matthew’s face. She silently counted, but it was too late. She lost it.
Chapter One
April
“I can’t be.” Annie stared at the results with blurry eyes.
Fifteen years she’d been married to Jack. Ten of those years they’d tried to have a baby with no success. She’d switched to an organic diet, tried herbal remedies, fertility pills and shots that had made her sick, but nothing had worked.
Five years ago, she quit the ballet troupe in Grand Rapids and moved north with Jack to Maple Springs and set up shop as a dance instructor. Annie had gained a little weight since then but never enough. She’d never conceived. She’d accepted her fate and moved on.
But Jack had never stopped hoping.
Annie grabbed the box and reread the instructions. She’d followed them implicitly. How hard was it? She glanced at the test strip. The symbol was definitely showing a plus sign instead of a negative. And that plus sign grew darker.
Her stomach turned over. “Oh, Jack...”
Was this God’s idea of a cruel joke? All these years they’d tried and failed. According to this test, they’d finally succeeded. But Jack would never see his own child. She closed her eyes, remembering the romantic Valentine’s getaway they’d enjoyed at a ski resort near Traverse City. Neither of them skied, but Annie had been given a gift certificate from one of her clients for Christmas.
Was that when— If so, in a few months her belly would show and her in-laws would be heartsick when they found out. It’d be like losing Jack all over again if something went wrong.
Annie rubbed her temples. Jack’s parents lived fifteen miles away in the town with the big grocery store. It’s why she and Jack had chosen Maple Springs—close and yet far enough away. That and Jack had loved ice fishing and snowmobiling with Matthew during the off-season.
Annie had a hunch her in-laws were relieved they didn’t need to deal with her now that their son was gone. Another twist of fate. Becoming grandparents would no doubt bring their paths back together. Marie was bound to be impossible. She’d never approved of anything Annie did. Annie was a dancer. It didn’t matter that she’d been a professional ballerina, she might as well have come off the Vegas strip.
Tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks as she sat there, test still in hand. A knock at the front door made her jump.
“Annie?”
She stood at the sound of her friend, Ginger, coming inside. Annie blew her nose with a tissue and then threw the early pregnancy test into the powder-room trash can. Quickly, she washed her hands and left.
“I’m in the kitchen.” Annie peeked out of the window into her backyard. Early daffodils had burst to life after what seemed like years in the deep freeze of a hard northern Michigan winter.
She leaned against the deep porcelain sink she’d found at an antique sale with Jack after they’d bought this house. They’d taken their time remodeling it room by room. Except for the roof. Jack was planning to do that this summer with Matthew’s help.
Matthew...
The kiss they’d shared haunted her still. She might as well have a scarlet letter sewn across her heart reminding her how she’d betrayed Jack’s memory. Matthew’s embrace had been gentle when he awkwardly patted her back while she’d cried. The poor guy. Another poke to the heart from the needle that had stitched on that scarlet letter.
Her friend’s high-heeled footsteps clicked on the tiled floor. “You okay? I know Easter Sunday at church is hard, but when I called this morning and got your answering machine, I got worried.”
Annie sniffed. “I’m fine.”
Her friend’s eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not. What’s going on?”
She felt the tears stinging her eyes again. She’d been so emotional lately and thought it was all about grief, until she threw up and counted backward.
Ginger reached out her hands.
Annie took them, swallowing hard. She had to get a grip, but it felt as if she walked in a dream, like after she’d gotten word of Jack’s death. In the weeks that had followed, she used to wander around in a daze. She’d often wake with a start, heart racing with fear before the pain came when reality hit that Jack was gone.
“I’m, ah...”
Ginger cocked her head. “Maybe you should sit down and tell me. You look a little flushed.”
Annie slumped into a chair and ran her finger along the grooves of her kitchen table. The burden didn’t feel quite so heavy when it sunk in that she was finally going to have a baby. Something Jack had wanted for so long. A dream she’d given up on long ago.
Hope swelled and her spirits lifted, only to be dashed again. Jack wouldn’t be there. He’d miss the birth of his own child.
Ginger touched her arm. “Annie?”
“I’m pregnant,” she choked out. “A couple months, if I’ve counted right.”
Ginger’s eyes widened. They were big, anyway, but right now her friend’s eyes reminded Annie of the brown speckled eggs she bought at the agricultural co-op a block over. “Oh, Annie, that’s wonderful.”
Annie ran her fingers through her hair, gripping it into a thick bundle at the nape of her neck. “Is it?”
“I’ll make tea.” Ginger went to the stove and grabbed the kettle. Once it was filled with water and settled over a high flame, she turned. “God’s given you a gift.”
A little late. She snorted. “Where was He five years ago with this gift?”
“Annie!” Ginger’s voice dipped low. “Have you told anyone?”
Annie shook her head. “I just found out this morning with one of those store-bought tests. I’ll wait until I see a doctor, to be sure.”
But pregnancy confirmed what was happening to her body. It wasn’t simply grief taking its toll. A new threat surfaced. One that scared her far more than raising a child alone. “I’m forty years old, Gin. What if I can’t carry this baby to term?”
Ginger smiled. “You will. You can do this.”
“I hope so.” That was an understatement.
Annie grabbed ceramic mugs from the cupboard. The teakettle’s whistle blew, piercing the air. She filled her silver tea ball with loose leaves and tossed it in the pot. Then poured in hot water and let the tea steep all while the challenges of the future ahead flashed through her mind.
Annie slumped back in her chair. “I never considered raising a baby on my own. But I’ve got Jack’s life insurance and the dance studio. I can bring a baby there, so I won’t need to pay for day care for a while at least. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”
If Annie repeated that a few times, would she eventually believe it?
“Don’t forget Jack’s parents.”
She gave her friend a sharp look. “I was trying to do just that.”
Ginger laughed. She knew all about Annie’s issues with her mother-in-law. “You know they’ll help.”
Annie looked at the pretty young woman who owned the shop where she bought her spices and loose tea and nodded. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
They went to the same church and had always been friendly, but Ginger had become a close friend after Jack died. After her aunt and sister returned to their homes in Arizona, Ginger had been the one holding out a safety ring when Annie thought she’d drown.
She still treaded water. Some days she’d slide under the waves and some days she’d float above them. With a baby on the way, she’d need to start floating way more than sinking. It’s what Jack would expect of her. He’d want her to be happy.
May
Matthew Zelinsky walked along the downtown streets of his hometown where cottages lined the small harbor dug into the shoreline of northern Lake Michigan. The month of May meant that summer homes were finally opened up with cheery flowers dripping from their window boxes. The same went for gift shops clustered on Main Street. Even though he’d grown up here in Maple Springs, Michigan, the beauty of the area was never lost on him.
Some things never changed. Others changed too much. He missed Jack, his captain and friend. The new captain—Wyatt Williams was his name—was okay, but it wasn’t the same. It’d never be the same again.
Matthew stepped out of the warm sunshine into the funky spice shop where Annie liked to buy her tea. The place was crowded. Summer residents had descended into the resort town a few days before Memorial Day weekend with its parade, craft fair and chicken BBQ.
Glancing at the line of big glass jars holding what looked like dried up weeds, he waited his turn. Was this the right thing to give a woman who regretted the kiss they’d shared?
Roses were out. Way too romantic. He was pretty sure Annie wanted none of that. She didn’t eat real chocolate, either, and he refused to buy carob. He wouldn’t know where to find the stuff. Chocolate implied romance, too, and he wasn’t sure that’s where he should go.
He had his regrets, as well. He wouldn’t walk out on Annie as he’d done at the funeral. He didn’t need to buy her anything but wanted Annie to know that this time, he’d be there if she needed him. Jack would want him to look out for her.
What would Jack think of him kissing his wife?
“Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s Wife...”
Matthew had learned his ten commandments as a kid and could recite them easily enough, but the last one took on new meaning. What kind of guy kissed a grieving widow a week after her husband’s funeral?
The sounds of laughter erupted as more folks came inside. His turn had come and he stepped up to the counter.
The owner, Annie’s friend, looked up. “Hi, Matthew. Welcome back.”
“Hey, Ginger.”
Jack and Annie had tried to fix him up with her, but Matthew hadn’t been interested. No surprise there. Work on the Great Lakes took him away for months at a time. Most of the women he’d dated couldn’t handle it. They’d call too often and complain too much when he didn’t call back. There were dead zones out there, but that excuse had never flown very far. Drama. He hated all the drama.
Ginger smiled. “I heard your company hired on a new captain. How is he?”
Matthew rubbed the back of his neck. Was that all she’d heard? “He’s okay. And temporary. For now.”
“Good. What can I help you with?”
He perused the shelves loaded with names of spices and herbs he’d never heard of. “I’m looking for some tea.”
She looked surprised. “For you?”
“For Annie.” His cheeks burned. He forced himself to look Ginger in the eye. “You probably know what she likes. Give me whatever you think best.”
Again, she smiled. Not an unkind smile, either. “I have just the thing.”
He relaxed. A little. If Ginger knew anything about that kiss, she wasn’t holding it against him. He wouldn’t blame her if she did. He never should have let it go that far, but he’d sensed that Annie needed to be held. He’d needed to hold her, too. But after she’d kissed him back, something had snapped inside and let loose. So here he stood, buying apology tea.
Ginger removed the silver lid of a big glass container and scooped out the contents. The tea leaves looked like what he’d rake up from his parents’ yard complete with little sticks.
“So, what are you up to for the next thirty days of free time?”
He shrugged. He needed to talk to Annie about her roof among other things. “I’m hoping to work on a building project, why?”
“No reason.” She shrugged, too, as if she had something to say. Did she? “It’s nice of you to buy tea for Annie. She’ll enjoy this blend.”
He cocked his head. “Yeah?”
“There’s a little flyer in there with the ingredients and instructions.” She handed him the brown paper bag stamped with The Spice of Life in dark green ink.
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to tell her.” He paid for his purchase and left.
Driving the three blocks from Ginger’s store to Annie’s Craftsman-style bungalow, he rehearsed the argument he’d give her for letting him replace the roof. The past two months had given him lots of time to think. And he’d thought about Annie Marshall practically every day of the sixty spent on his freighter.
He parked, got out and then stood on the walkway. Staring at her front porch, he gripped the paper bag Ginger had given him tighter. Good grief, this was Annie he was coming to see. He’d joked around with her for years, but Jack had always been there, too. Now he wasn’t.
Annie was Jack’s widow now.
He’d called her once in a while in port, but they hadn’t said much. He couldn’t broach the subject of that kiss. A phone call wasn’t the best choice for that awkward conversation. It’d be better to talk to her in person. Like now.
He checked his watch. Ten-thirty was a respectable time to make a morning visit. He knew from what Jack had said that Annie’s weekday dance lessons didn’t start until after lunchtime. Had that changed?
He’d find out soon enough.
He gingerly ascended the wide front porch steps, remembering how he’d helped Jack and Annie move in after they’d bought the place. He’d also helped paint the exterior. She’d picked out the colors and called it sage green. She’d been adamant about pairing it with bright white trim. He and Jack had thought tan would look better.
He smiled, remembering how Annie had managed to get more paint on her than the house. He spotted her small car in the driveway and with a deep breath, knocked on the front door.