When it’s more than just friends…

“I have a long weekend for the holiday,” Zac said.

“I’ve got to check in at the market tomorrow morning, but the rest of the day is mine. What if I come pick you up and take you to lunch?”

“Zac, you must have better things to do,” Eli insisted.

“You say that every time I ask to spend time with you. Since my sister is convinced we can talk without actually speaking, just like my parents can, want to guess what I’m saying without saying?”

Eli tried to look serious, but all she could do was laugh. That seemed to be a common theme with Zac. They talked, they enjoyed each other’s company and they both laughed a lot.

“Okay, tomorrow for lunch.” She opened the car door.

Before she got out, Zac leaned over and kissed her cheek. It was light, platonic even, and yet she felt a bit breathless in a way that had nothing to do with the blast of cold air that flooded the car.

“Uh, well, thanks for a lovely day, Zac. I’d really best get going.”

And in his eyes, without him saying a word, she could see that he knew his light kiss on the cheek had flustered her, and that he was pleased.

She brushed a fingertip over the spot.

What was she going to do about Zac Keller?

Dear Reader,

This year is Harlequin’s 60th Anniversary! Being part of the Harlequin family always was and is a dream of mine.

As my youngest child got older, I realized that one day soon she would go to school…and I’d need to go back to work. The question was, what did I want to do? This very quiet little whisper niggled around the edges of my mind…I’d like to write. And so I started writing. And submitting. And being rejected. In January of 2000 I was ready to admit defeat. I told my husband it was time to go look for a job. He told me no. We were fine financially and he was positive I’d sell to Harlequin Books. I just had to keep trying, and he was willing to do whatever it took to help. (Is it any wonder I write romance, with him as an example of what a hero should be?)

Two months later a woman called and introduced herself as Kathryn Lye…and bought my first Harlequin book, I Waxed My Legs for This? Three months after that, Allison Lyons from Silhouette Romance bought Do You Hear What I Hear? Nine years later this book, my twenty-eighth romance for Harlequin, is hitting the shelves and I’m struck by the fact that I am living my dream. That’s such a rare and wonderful thing.

So many dreams don’t live up to their hype, but my dream of working with Harlequin Books has been so much more than I ever imagined it could be. I’ve encountered the most amazing people, traveled all over the country and met so many truly lovely readers and other writers. I am so lucky.

So happy anniversary, Harlequin! May your stories of love keep touching the hearts of readers for years and years to come!

Holly Jacobs

Unexpected Gifts
Holly Jacobs

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

In 2000, Holly Jacobs sold her first book to Harlequin Enterprises. She’s since sold more than twenty-five novels to the publisher. Her romances have won numerous awards and made the Waldenbooks bestseller list. In 2005, Holly won a prestigious Career Achievement Award from Romantic Times BOOKreviews. In her nonwriting life Holly is married to a police captain, and together they have four children. Visit Holly at www.HollyJacobs.com, or you can snail-mail her at P.O. Box 11102, Erie, PA 16514–1102.

For all the amazing teachers who work in the

Erie School District’s Teen Parenting Program,

especially Jeanne Bender, Mary Fuhrmann,

Connie Sementilli and Bonnie Sobeck. Thanks

for letting me be a part of the amazing work

you do. You have touched so many students’

lives, and the ripple effects from your work

will be felt for years to come.

And for Sharon Lorei, who was an

“Eli Cartwright” sort of teacher in my life.

CONTENTS

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

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

“There’s no way to cheat nature.”

—Pregnancy, Childbirth and Parenting for Teens, by Mary Jeanne Lorei

ARIEL MAYORS KNEW that, until recently, she’d been teacher’s pet. A favorite. The student who could do no wrong.

She’d cultivated that status with the same care that a gardener used looking after prized orchids. By the time Ariel had reached her senior year of high school she’d practically perfected the art of perfect. She was always the first one to raise her hand, the first one to volunteer and almost always the best student in class.

Popularity was a game that she didn’t just play with the teachers, she played it with fellow students as well.

To garner the girls’ admiration she made sure she never poached boyfriends, that she always offered a shoulder in any cry-worthy moment and that she was never without an extra Tampax in her purse for those time-of-the-month emergencies.

She’d discovered the basic truth that once you’d borrowed a tampon from someone, it was hard to hate them.

Ariel was a cheerleader, which provided her a readymade social group, and also meant she was one of the girls all the boys wanted to date. She knew this part of her popularity didn’t stem from any planning of hers. Biology had blessed her with blond hair and a long, lithe body. But she’d worked at the rest—worked on knowing what clothes to wear, how to apply makeup flawlessly. She worked at knowing when to laugh, when to draw closer, when to pull back.

Well, she thought, she’d known when to pull back until that one night in Charlie Markowski’s Lumina van.

She stood in front of Ms. Cartwright’s desk. Her teacher wasn’t beautiful, but there was something appealing about her averageness. Brown shoulder-length hair, blue eyes. A little shorter than Ariel’s five feet, six inches. Ms. Cartwright was the kind of person who was so normal-looking she could easily get lost in a crowd in a way Ariel never could. That was, until she smiled. Then Ms. Cartwright was beautiful. Ariel wasn’t sure how that worked, she just knew it did. She wanted to be like Ms. Cartwright someday. Calm, collected—a woman in charge of her own destiny. Someone who got more beautiful when they smiled.

Only Ms. Cartwright wasn’t smiling today.

“Ariel,” Ms. Cartwright said, disappointment right there in that one word and echoing so fiercely in her favorite teacher’s expression.

Ariel had disappointed so many people in the last few weeks. She’d worked so hard to please this one woman, and now, she’d disappointed her, too.

“Ariel, Mrs. Brown came to see me. She says she found this in your book.” Ms. Cartwright slid the small piece of paper across the desk. “Is this crib note yours?”

“Yes,” Ariel whispered.

“Pardon?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have an explanation?”

“I worked at the restaurant last night and planned on studying during my break but Dale, the dork manager at Barney’s, wouldn’t give me one. We had a bus come in and…” She simply shrugged. What more was there to say? She’d done it—she’d cheated. She could add that to her growing list of descriptions.

Cheerleader.

Student council rep.

Straight A student.

Pregnant teen.

Cheater.

Ms. Cartwright didn’t yell, didn’t scream. She just shook her head sadly and asked, “Do you really think this is the way to handle things? By taking the easy way out?”

“I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“Did it occur to you that you could go to Mrs. Brown and explain the situation to her. Or, you could have come to me. It’s part of my job description…helping you find options. There are always some. I know you’re new to the program, but it’s pretty much our mantra—finding options.” She sighed. “Listen, Ariel, this stopped being about you when you became pregnant. You will be this baby’s role model. He or she will look to you to see how to live. Is this what you’d want your child to do? Do you want them to take the easy way out?”

“No. I didn’t think of it like that.”

“You have to learn to think about everything you do in that way—how it will affect your baby. You need to do what’s best for them, always. Even when it’s difficult for you. Now, how do you think we should handle this?”

“You know, those are the kinds of questions all us kids hate. You make us decide on a fair punishment.”

“I make you take responsibility for your actions. Most teens have a few more years to learn about actions and consequences—the girls in this program don’t have the luxury of time. You don’t have that luxury.”

She looked pointedly at Ariel’s stomach and the barely there baby bump.

“Ariel, I see so much potential in you. Don’t blow it. If you have a problem, come see me, see Mrs. Brown. There are people here for you. Don’t forget that.”

“Maybe I should start by writing an apology to Mrs. Brown?”

“I think that’s an excellent place to begin. Come see me tomorrow and we’ll talk about what else you think is required in order to make this right.”

Darn. Ariel had hoped that a letter of apology would be all that she had to do to smooth this over. Obviously, it wasn’t.

“Okay, I’ll think about it and see you tomorrow.” She practically sprang for the door, anxious to escape Ms. Cartwright’s sympathetic gaze. It would be easier if the teacher would get pissed off and yell. But no, not her, she only looked as if her girls screwing up hurt her.

Ariel turned the doorknob, and pushed at the door, ready to make her escape when Ms. Cartwright’s voice stopped her. “And Ariel?”

She turned back and saw pain in Ms. Cartwright’s smile. She’d do almost anything to replace that look of disappointment with one of pride.

“You can’t cheat nature. You are going to be a mother in a few months and there are no crib notes that will let you fake your way through being a good parent. And that’s what you owe this baby. Being the best parent, the best example you can be.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And for that matter, Ariel, life happens. You can’t cheat your way through it, either. There are no crib notes. You have to live each day as well as you can. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Finally, dismissed, Ariel hurried away before Ms. Cartwright could say anything else profoundly painful.

There were no crib notes for being a parent. For being an adult.

Ariel desperately wished there were.

CHAPTER ONE

“There are four stages of mourning. Denial. Sadness. Anger. Acceptance. Becoming pregnant in your teens means that some dreams have to be put away, others altered. It’s a death of one future. You have to mourn that loss before you can move ahead and plan a new future…one that includes the baby you’re carrying.”

—Pregnancy, Childbirth and Parenting for

Teens, by Mary Jeanne Lorei

THERE WAS SOMETHING completely undignified about peeing in a cup. It took a certain knack that Elinore Cartwright didn’t feel she had acquired and, to be honest, she didn’t know that she wanted to be presented too many more opportunities to develop it.

Despite the fact she was nowhere near a master, she managed the fill the little paper cup. She washed her hands and then, clutching the paper gown at the back, hurried across the hall to her assigned examination room. She hoisted herself back onto the table.

Sitting on paper, wearing paper, covering herself with a square piece of quilted paper. Every movement was a festival noise.

The only nonpaper item she was wearing for her less-than-happily anticipated annual checkup was her wildly striped toe socks. She’d left them on partly because now that it was the end of October, her feet wouldn’t be warm again for at least eight months, and partly because she felt they dressed up her paper ensemble.

She sank back onto her paper-shrouded shrine and waited. Right on cue, as her body relaxed, her thoughts picked up steam, tumbling over themselves. There was no flitting involved, just a terrible tangled twist of to-do items and worries.

To-do: Call Zac Keller and set up a meeting for the end of the week.

Ariel Mayor. She replayed their talk from earlier this afternoon. It had seemed to go well. She saw a lot of potential in the girl. As a matter of fact…

To-do: Pull together Ariel’s information and see if Zac would agree that she’d make an excellent test-run for the new Community Action, Teen-parent Apprentice Project.

It had been almost fifteen years since Eli had started the George County School District’s teen parenting program. George County was a large, primarily rural county just south of Erie, Pennsylvania. Her job was to find ways to cut the county’s number of teen parents, and help those who were pregnant or already parents graduate and go on to be worthwhile members of the community.

The statistics said her program was working. She experienced that warm glow of pride she always felt when she thought about the inroads she’d made.

The number of teen mothers in the county was falling, the number of teen moms who graduated was climbing. And there had been a nice bump in the number of her mothers who went on to college or some type of vocational training after graduation.

This new project was just another way of helping her girls. Partnering local businesses with the students in the program. Giving the teens jobs with flexibility, jobs that would provide crucial work experience.

It sounded as if Ariel was already working hard, too hard, at that restaurant. This program might be just the ticket for her.

And despite Ariel Mayor’s slight bump in the road, Eli was determined that this girl would be one of her successes.

Her to-do list was replaced as a niggle of worry crept into the forefront of her thoughts. She’d figured passing so easily from fertility to menopause was a good thing. After half a year of erratic cycles, her periods had just stopped a few months ago with no other problems arising. No hot flashes, mood swings, trouble sleeping.

Eli took this as another sign that her life was pretty much perfect. She had Arthur, who, although he was a little less than exciting, was good company and a dependable boyfriend. She had a job she loved, a great family and good friends. And now, she’d had a pain-free transition into menopause at the ripe old age of forty-four.

At least, that’s what she thought until Dr. Benton had asked to run a few tests. One of which involved peeing in that stupid cup.

How long did it take to do whatever voodoo test he was doing? And what did he think was wrong?

Cancer?

That horrible C word.

Cancer of what? Cervix, uterus, ovaries? Maybe that was it, cancer had eaten all her eggs, so her periods had stopped.

She tried to force her thoughts back to her long to-do list. It was much more pleasant.

Okay. To-do…

Her mind was blank. She was saved from trying to fill it though when Dr. Benton opened the door.

“Go ahead and just tell me. Cancer has eaten all my eggs, right?”

He laughed.

Hmm, doctors didn’t normally laugh when telling someone they had a cancer, right?

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, feeling better. She sat up and all the paper crinkled merrily. “I have an active imagination. So what’s the news?”

“You’re not in menopause—”

“Then it is cancer. Cancer of the uterus? That’s why my period stopped.”

“You’re pregnant.”

“Cancer of the cervix?”

“Pregnant. As in going to have a baby.”

She laughed. “Funny. Ha ha. You can tell me. Just say the words, I can take it.”

“Eli, you’re not sick, there’s nothing wrong with you that I’ve found. Although you are pregnant.”

“But…I can’t be. I mean, Arthur always uses condoms, and…” She paused, trying to process what Dr. Benton was saying. “You can’t get pregnant if you’re in menopause, so I’m not pregnant.”

“You’re not in menopause. You’re pregnant. Some of those missed periods were because you’re going to have a baby, not because of menopause. You’re going to have a baby in around six or seven months. Somewhere around May or June would be my guess. We’ll have to do some tests to be sure.”

“But—”

“Listen, Eli, I’ve been your doctor for a long time, and I know this comes as a shock. Why don’t you go home, take some time and process it all, then come see me again next week and we’ll talk? We’ll do a few more tests. I want to do a sonogram so we’ll have a more accurate idea of your due date since you have been experiencing erratic cycles.”

“But—”

“And here.” He reached into his pocket and handed her a prescription. “Prenatal, prescription vitamins. Get it filled and start taking one a day.”

“But—”

He patted her hand. “It’s going to be all right.”

Eli went into a type of brain-fogged automatic pilot. That was the only way to explain how she managed to dress and check in with the receptionist. She agreed to the first appointment that was offered without consulting her calendar, bundled into her jacket, and made her way to her car—her brand-new MINI Cooper. A more nonbaby car couldn’t be found. She drove a MINI, so there was no way she was pregnant.

The fog started to clear.

Dr. Benton, bless his heart, was wrong. That was the only explanation. She’d seen one of those news shows about doctors and their inaccurate tests. That’s what this was. The test was faulty.

Or, since Dr. Benton was getting on in age and probably needed reading glasses, he’d misread the results.

Either way, he was wrong. She was not pregnant.

With a newly found, albeit fuzzy, plan, Eli put her foot to the floor and hurried to her neighborhood pharmacy. While she waited for them to fill the prescription that she probably wouldn’t need, she grabbed a basket, then walked up and down the aisles until she found the pregnancy test section.

Six.

There were six different brands of pregnancy tests.

She read the boxes. Digital tests. Plus or minus tests. One box had three individual tests in it…for people who thought they were pregnant frequently? There was no way she would want to go through this sinking feeling more than once.

She studied the boxes. All claimed to be ninety-nine percent accurate.

She took the first box and threw it in her basket.

Just to be on the safe side, she grabbed a second brand and added it.

She started down the aisle. Surely, the tests would prove Dr. Benton was wrong.

But what if they were faulty as well?

She turned back and hurried to the display. She put one of each brand of test in her basket.

There. She’d take all of these and when all six told her she wasn’t pregnant, she’d call Dr. Benton and insist he either check the expiration dates on his tests at the office, or that he make an appointment for an eye exam.

Maybe both.

He was going to be embarrassed, she was sure. But she’d laugh it off, and make certain he understood she didn’t blame him.

Yes, tell him no harm, no foul.

By the time she got home she was feeling a surreal sense of calm. Everything would be fine once she peed on the six small wands. All of them promised results in three to five minutes.

She glanced at the clock. Dr. Benton would probably still be at his office. She’d call him right away so he could figure out what the problem was…faulty test or aging eyes.

She hurried into the bathroom and discovered peeing on sticks was infinitely easier than peeing in a cup.

She lined them all up on the counter and left, determined not to watch them. She didn’t need to. She knew what they were going to show—she wasn’t pregnant.

She stood outside the bathroom door, trying to decide what to do while she waited. Aimlessly, she went down the hall and thumbed through her mail that she’d set on the antique washstand she’d found last summer on her New England vacation with Arthur. They’d meandered with no real destination in mind, stopping in small towns and villages along the way.

She ran a finger over the stand, and couldn’t help it if her sleeve slipped up, exposing her watch. She didn’t mean to check the time and was disappointed to discover that only one minute had passed.

She walked through the house, feeling slightly removed—as if she were a visitor seeing it for the first time. She remembered every item, its history and any sentiment it carried.

Everything was orderly in her tiny, perfect-for-one-person, but not-for-a-baby house. There was her bedroom, with the froufrou pillows on the bed. Arthur hated them and felt that the few seconds she spent putting them in place every day were wasted time. It probably added up to an hour or more a year, he’d told her. Arthur was a big fan of time management, and try as she might, she couldn’t seem to convince him that time spent on aesthetics wasn’t wasted at all. She liked how the pillows looked on the bed, how the entire room’s decor came together. That was worth an hour of her year.

She peeked in her equally neat and appealing office. She’d spent three weekends stripping, then refinishing the oak floor. She’d used a high gloss on them and they truly shone. The deep red walls, the pulled back curtains…her office was an oasis.

This time she didn’t try to convince herself that glancing at her watch was an accident.

Two minutes to go.

She went to the kitchen, hoping she’d left a glass or plate in the sink, something she could rinse, but there was nothing.

Her house was too small, too settled for a baby.

She couldn’t be pregnant because she’d built a single person’s home.

She glanced at her watch again.

Finally knowing beyond any doubt just how Marie Antoinette had felt as she marched toward the chopping block, Eli opened the bathroom door, then one by one picked up the wands.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

Pregnant.

Her hands trembled as she picked up the last one. One little stick of hope, which was the only branch she had left to hang on to.

Pregnant.

Shit.

Eli wasn’t sure how long she sat on the bathroom floor staring at that last stick. It was long enough for the realization to begin to penetrate, long enough that the ramifications of that stick, along with the other five, hit home.

She was pregnant.

Her feet were numb and tingling. One of the changes she’d noticed since hitting her forties was that she could only kneel for so long before all the blood stopped pumping into her legs.

She was well beyond her blood pumping limit.

And she was pregnant.

She wasn’t sure what to do. Who to turn to.

She wanted to cry, but had preached to her girls that news of a baby should never be greeted with tears. She’d had so many young moms in her office, crying their eyes out. She understood their feelings, but it struck her as a very sad way to welcome a child into existence, so she wasn’t going to cry.

But if she wasn’t going to cry, that left her nothing to do with the huge lump that was sitting squarely in the center of her throat.

What to do?

Call Tucker.

She made her wobbly feet walk into the living room and dialed her friend’s number. “Could you come over? I need you.” She’d known that would be all it took.

Tucker didn’t ask any questions, didn’t hesitate. “On my way,” she replied. That was like her friend. Tucker never expected anything from anyone, but gave unhesitantly to everyone.

Angelina Tucker was Eli’s inspiration for starting the teen parenting program. Sixteen years ago, Tucker had been a senior and Eli had been a teacher in the home-ec department for five years. That’s what they’d called it then. Now, it was family and consumer sciences.

When Tucker had found out she was pregnant, she’d come to Eli for help, and Eli had discovered how very few options and avenues there were for the young girl. She’d fought for Tucker and had become her advocate. The following year she began to put together a program for the entire district.

Tucker had come into her first classes and talked about her experiences as a teen mother. Eli had used her as a peer role model for her girls.

As they worked together, something shifted, and Tucker had become a friend. A good friend. Eventually, a best friend.

Eli was even little Bart’s godmother.

Okay, Bart wasn’t all that little anymore. But Tucker was just the same, hard on the outside, a pushover on the inside.

Tucker would know what to do.

Eli went to the living room and just sat on the couch and waited. When Tucker came, everything would be fine. She clung to that thought.

Tucker didn’t knock, but burst into the house fifteen minutes later. There was no prelude, no opening line. She just asked, “What happened?” Concerned lines were etched on her face and she ran her fingers through her short, curly brown hair, which made it look more wild than it usually did.

“I’m pregnant.”

Eli had never seen anything stop Tucker in her tracks, but this did.

Tucker plopped down next to Eli on the couch and was quiet a moment.

Then, as if some reserve energy source engaged, she turned to Eli and smiled. “Okay. If anyone can deal with this, it’s you. You know all your options. You’ve got your education, a good job, a nice house…good friends.” There was a firm certainty in Tucker’s voice that worked as a balm on some of the raging emotions that roiled through Eli.

“Oh, and you’ve got Arthur,” Tucker added as an afterthought.

“Yeah.” Eli realized that when the news had finally sank in her first thought was to call her friend, not Arthur. She didn’t want to analyze what that meant. There were too many other things she needed to concentrate on. “I’m a few months along. I thought it was menopause.”

Tucker smiled. “Surprise.”

Despite her worries, Eli managed a weak smile of her own. “Yeah.”

“I remember when I found out about Bart, I was sort of stunned. I went and talked to this very wise teacher and she asked, ‘What are you feeling’? She made me dig through all that junk and really pick the emotions apart. So, I’ll ask you, what are you feeling?”

Eli tried to sort through the swirling vortex of feelings that were overwhelming her. She grabbed at one. “Terrified. I mean, I’m forty-four. Once upon a time I wanted kids, but I never met the right man, it was never the right time. Years ago I decided that it wasn’t meant to be. I have hundreds of kids as in my students. That’s enough. I’ve organized my life in a childless sort of way. I can’t have a baby.”

“Well, then…” Tucker let the words hang there.

Eli shook her head, surprised at the fierceness of her reaction to Tucker’s unspoken suggestion. “No. That’s not an option for me. I mean, I just can’t.”

“Fine, then that’s progress. You’ve made a major decision…you’re having this baby. And you’re terrified, you didn’t expect to have a child. What else are you feeling?”

Eli waded through the mishmash of her emotions. “Foolish. I mean, I work with pregnant mothers for a living, and I didn’t realize I was pregnant? That’s sad. But in my defense, we used protection every time, and I’m old. Practically ready for menopause.”

“Terrified. Foolish. Old. What else?” Tuck pressed.

“Apprehensive. I have to tell my parents before they leave for their winter in Florida…and Arthur, of course.”

“I remember how much fun telling my dad was. But lucky for me, I had this great teacher go with me. Lucky for you, you have a friend who’s here if you need backup with your parents.”

Eli noticed that Tucker didn’t offer to come tell Arthur with her. She laughed. “What about when I tell Arthur?”

“I’d just antagonize him by—oh, I don’t know—breathing or something.”

“And he’d reciprocate. It’s fine. I’ll take that one on my own.” The fact that her boyfriend and her best friend didn’t get along made things difficult. Eli had learned to compartmentalize her life. Tucker and the rest of her friends, her school life, on one side, and Arthur on the other.

“What else?” Tucker asked.

Eli pulled her thoughts from Arthur and went back to the question at hand. What else was she feeling? She searched, and finally caught on a weak, almost whisper of a feeling. “Under all of that, there’s a bit of excitement. I mean, I never thought it would happen, that I’d have a baby. Truth of the matter is, I’m going to be a mother. Sure there’s a lot to figure out, and it’s not convenient, but then it was that way with Bart and look at how tight the two of you are.”

She stopped a second and added, “I’ve never asked before, but do you regret it? I mean, I know you love him, but do you ever regret everything you had to go through?”

“There are parts that I wouldn’t want to relive, but he’s such an amazing kid, I can’t imagine what my life would be without him. I don’t regret a minute of it. Having him led me to where I am. I have a kid I adore, a job I love and a friend I might never have found if I hadn’t shown up in her classroom that day asking for help.”

Eli couldn’t think of anything to say to that.

Tucker didn’t seem to mind. After another silent moment passed, she asked, “You want me to call Bart and tell him that he’s on his own for dinner? We’ll order a pizza and pig out. You can do that guilt-free now that you’re eating for two.”

Eli laughed, which she knew had been Tucker’s intent. “No. I’m fine now. Well, not quite fine, but on my way to it. I need some time alone to sort it all out. Though it’s so good to know that you’re just a phone call away. You really helped settle me down.”

“I’m no expert. I mean, I just paint stuff for a living—”

Tucker always underplayed her talent, and Eli felt obliged to interrupt and correct her description of her job. “A graphic artist. What you do is art, Tuck.”

Tucker shrugged and stood. “Doesn’t matter what you call it, I’m a simple woman who has to say something before I leave. It’s something no one but you ever said to me. Congratulations, Eli. This baby will change your life. And though you don’t see it now, it will change your life for the better. I just know it.”

Tucker leaned down and, in an uncharacteristic display of affection, hugged Eli. “No matter what, you just remember that you’re not alone.”

She waved and hurried out.

Eli knew that Tucker was embarrassed at her actions. She wasn’t a hugger, wasn’t prone to inspirational speeches. However, this one hit the mark.

This baby was going to change Eli’s life.

She could only hope Tucker was right and that it was for the better.

Eli spent the rest of the evening wandering from one room of the house to another, thinking. What was Arthur going to say? Would he be excited? And her parents? Were they going to be disappointed in her?

She knew she was well past the age where she needed her parents’ approval, but that didn’t stop her from enjoying it. It didn’t stop the sting of imagining she’d let them down.

She went into the bathroom and cleared away the remnants of her momentary insanity. She was going to have a baby, and no amount of testing was going to change that.

Bathroom cleaned, she stood in the hall not sure what to do or where to go.

Finally, she went to her room, threw the decorative pillows onto the floor, rather than stacking them neatly on the chest, and climbed into bed fully clothed. She burrowed under the covers and willed sleep to come and take her away from all her worries.

When it didn’t, she tugged up on her shirt and exposed her stomach. Gently she ran her hands over it. Not it, her baby.

Her baby was there.

She was going to be a mother.

She just let the enormity of that thought sit there, blocking all her other considerations.

She had six sticks and a doctor’s test to prove that in a very short time she was going to be someone’s mom.

She was going to change diapers and breastfeed. She was going to get up in the middle of the night and deal with teething.

Somewhere down the line she’d have to cope with a first day of school, book reports and science fairs. Even first loves.

She was going to be a mother.

And someday in about eighteen years, this baby would graduate from school and go away to college. Maybe stay away, too, if the right job came along.

Her baby would someday leave her.

A new emotion swamped her. Loneliness. She’d miss this baby she’d only just found out about. Her child would eventually find their own way, build their own life, one that didn’t center around her. She’d be peripheral at best.

She rested her hand on her stomach and promised herself that when that day came she’d let go. Until then, she’d hold on tight and try to enjoy every minute.

Enjoy.

Yes, under the myriad emotions that had assaulted her since she got the news was excitement. Now joined by the promise of enjoyment. She was going to enjoy being a mother.

At least she thought she would.

Oh, there was still panic, terror, but she clung to the more positive emotions.

She was going to be a mother.

CHAPTER TWO

“Discovering you’re pregnant means things will change, but different isn’t always worse…”

—Pregnancy, Childbirth and Parenting for

Teens, by Mary Jeanne Lorei

“MS. CARTWRIGHT, ARE YOU OKAY?” Ariel asked the next day after class.

Eli had thought she was doing an admirable job hiding her sleepless night and inner turmoil, but obviously, she was wrong.

She redoubled her efforts and pasted her best I’m-okay smile on and nodded. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“I promised we’d finish our discussion. I wrote the note and will give it to Mrs. Brown this afternoon.”

“Good. That’s a great start.” At the word start, the girl’s smile faded.

“You said we’d talk about what else I need to do? I’ve been trying to think of what else could fix this, but other than taking an F on that test, I can’t think of anything.”

“Actually, Mrs. Brown and I talked about that. Rather than fail you, we’ve agreed that you’ll retake the test. And then she’ll deduct ten percent from whatever you get as a penalty.”

“Thank you. I assumed I’d get an F and that would drop my GPA.”

Eli smiled. Despite her own mind, she’d given Ariel’s situation some thought. To be honest, thinking about Ariel was so much easier than thinking about herself.

“I have an idea,” she told the girl. “After my meeting this afternoon, I’ll fill you in.”

Ariel looked nervous.

“It’s not bad,” Eli assured her. “As a matter of fact, I think this might work out to be a very, very good thing for you.”

Suddenly Ariel’s expression changed to a look children had worn on Christmas Eve for centuries. “Ms. Cartwright, do you want to give me a hint?”

Eli chuckled. “No. But come see me after school.”

“You’re sure?”

“Go. I don’t want you being late for your next class.”

When Ariel left, Eli went back to crunching figures and making sure her facts were in order. She wished she could find the enthusiasm for this meeting she once had. Today everything felt muted. Dampened. As if she were viewing the world through cotton gauze.

She kept eying the clock.

Finally.

Lunchtime.

She stood and smoothed her skirt, then without realizing it, her hand brushed her stomach, as if to make sure her baby was all right.

Baby.

Her baby.

It still felt so unreal. Part of her would have liked to deny the reality, but those six little sticks wouldn’t allow her to.

She had a standing dinner date with Arthur on Friday nights. So tomorrow, she’d tell him. She could almost imagine stoic, dependable Arthur’s reaction. He would probably be as shocked as she was, but he’d be supportive. He’d understand her mixed emotions over this unplanned, life-altering event.

Together, they’d work it out.

Right now, she needed to put all that aside and get going or she’d be late for this meeting.

She stopped at the main office and checked out with the school secretary. “Doris, I’m not sure when I’ll be back. If anyone needs me, I’ll have my cell. Marion’s covering my one o’clock class.”

“Good luck. I know how important this meeting is to you, to the new program.”

“Thanks. I’m pretty sure he’s on board. Today we’re supposed to finalize everything and decide on our test-student.”

“You’ll do fine. Just give me a holler when you get back in.” Doris had been with the school longer than Eli. Longer than most of the staff. She was an icon. She ran the main office with a fluid efficiency and had an aura of everyone’s favorite grandmother about her.

Her confidence in Eli’s ability to make this work helped bolster her own flagging belief in herself.

She drove across Whedon, wishing that this meeting was in an office. She felt at home in that setting or in a classroom. But a local restaurant had sounded convenient when she’d agreed to it. Instead she now worried the location would detract from the business Zac needed to accomplish.

“Eli,” he called, waving.

Despite the craziness since her doctor’s appointment, seeing him made her smile. There was something engaging about Zac Keller. He was a nice-looking man who was defined by what he wasn’t. He wasn’t tall, wasn’t short—maybe about five-ten. He wasn’t fat, wasn’t skinny, wasn’t a bodybuilder, wasn’t scrawny. He had average brown hair and a medium complexion.

But once someone met Zac, he stood out. Maybe it was the devilish look in his brown eyes—a look that said life was a joy and there was always mischief to be made.

“Hi,” she said as she took the seat across from him.

His smile faded as he studied her a moment. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong?” she repeated dumbly.

“Wrong. Something’s wrong.”

First Ariel, now Zac.

Eli tried to school her expression and concentrate on the task at hand.

She passed a file to him. “Not wrong, exactly. Although…”

She jerked her head toward the file. He took the hint and opened it. “Ariel Mayor?”

She nodded. “I’d like her to be the first student we enroll in the program.”

“And this troubles you because…?”

“She’s having a hard time of it. To be honest, she’s the type of student the Community Action Teen-Parent Apprentice Project was designed for. She’s a senior who’s always been a straight A student, popular with her peers and teachers. If you’d asked me, asked any of her teachers, we’d have told you that she was one of those kids who are blessed. Yet when her parents found out she was pregnant, at the beginning of the school year, they kicked her out. I got involved and learned that Ariel’s home life was less than blessed. She’s staying at an aunt’s, working at a nearby restaurant, going to school, and other than one small incident, she’s done a good job balancing everything. She’s college material.”

Eli paused, needing to make this absolutely pitch perfect. Working for Zac instead, in the CATA Project, could make such a difference for this girl. “Zac, I think it would be a shame if she didn’t go to college because of the baby. She deserves to have the life she planned.”

“With a baby in the picture, even if she goes to college, it won’t be exactly as she planned,” he pointed out.

“No, not exactly. But what in life ever goes exactly how we plan?” Eli might have said those same words a few days ago. And she’d have believed them. But now, they rang truer.

As if he’d read her mind, Zac asked, “You didn’t plan to be here?”

Here? Pregnant? She almost snorted, but then Zac added, “Helping teen parents?”

Oh. Yes, of course, that’s what he meant. “No. Truth is, I never planned this to be my life’s work. I stumbled into it when a girl in my class became pregnant and asked for my help. When I looked for services in the district, I realized there was nothing.”

“So you helped her yourself?”

She laughed. “Don’t make it sound all noble. I liked her. Still do. Over the years, she’s become my best friend. I’m surrogate aunt to her son.”

“When the school district didn’t help, you stepped up and did it yourself. That’s not a question. I know you, Eli. You couldn’t stand by and not try to do something positive.”

He’d said things like that before and as always it made her uncomfortable. Not in a stalker sort of way, but this man saw her in a way no one else did, not even herself.

“Don’t glamorize it. I was in the right place at the right time and simply did what needed to be done. Anyone could have done it.”

He snorted. “I don’t want to argue with you, but you’re wrong.” As if sensing she was about to dispute it more, he picked the file back up. “So, Ariel’s going to be our guinea pig?”

“If you agree. I noted in the file that she’s never been in trouble, except for the recent incident. And I don’t believe that would have happened if she hadn’t been stretched so thin. That’s where you come in. No more late hours, time for homework…support.”

“Fine.” He tapped the file on the table. “Ariel Mayor is our inaugural student in the CATA Project.” He raised his water glass. “To many years of a successful partnership between us.”

She clinked her glass against his.

“Now, let’s order lunch and get down to the nitty-gritty of how we’re going to make this work.”

Eli had so much to do. So many things to think about. She knew she should excuse herself, instead, she found herself saying, “So, did you find out what the special is today?”

After they ordered, Zac asked, “So what else is new with you?”

If only she could tell him, but she wasn’t about to when her parents and Arthur still didn’t know, so she simply said, “Not much. You?”

“Well, I was in some little Podunk town and I…”

Eli listened to Zac’s story and soon forgot all her worries. Like Tucker had said, they’d be there tomorrow. Or rather tomorrow night when she went to see Arthur.

THE HOUR FLEW BY TOO FAST in Zac Keller’s opinion.

He always enjoyed Eli Cartwright’s company. There was something about her that touched him. Her enthusiasm for her work. The girls she taught were more than a job. He could see it in her expression as she talked about them. And this Ariel Mayor he’d just hired was obviously a favorite.

Eli’d talked of her boyfriend in the past, which was the only reason Zac hadn’t long since asked her out. Even if he couldn’t date her though, he could enjoy her company.

“Why don’t we meet on Saturday morning? I’ll treat you to coffee at Tim Horton’s—the one next to Keller’s Market. Then we can both go over and meet your Ariel?”

“You want me there?”

“Not for future student hires, but for this first one, I thought it might be a good idea if we both followed Ariel’s progress closely. We can see what works, and where there’s room for improvement. I’d like CATA to become one of Keller’s pet projects, so I think it’s best to really concentrate on this first student and make sure everything runs smoothly.”

“I appreciate it, Zac. I don’t know if you understand what this program could offer to our girls.”

“I think I understand, at least as much as I can.”

Eli glanced at her watch. “I better get going.”

“See you Saturday, around nine, then? Tell Ariel to meet us at the market at nine-thirty?”

“Sounds good.”

She stood, and he immediately followed suit. She thrust out her hand and they shook. “Thanks again, Zac.”

“No problem. And Eli, I know we’re just business associates, but if you want to talk about whatever’s wrong, I’m here.” Before she could deny there was anything wrong, or laugh at the idea of her needing his help, he took the bill and headed for the register.

She followed him, and handed him a ten, then, before he could protest, dashed out. “See you Saturday,” she called over her shoulder.

Zac knew he should return to his office at the market, but he felt an uncharacteristic urge not to. So instead, he drove in the opposite direction toward his parents’ house, under the guise of talking to his father about the business.

The house on East Street was a rambling building. The original one-story heart of the house was built in 1898, and generations of owners had added a room here and a room there, leaving a building with unusual lines. His parents had purchased it forty years ago, a month before they married, determined to fill the seven bedrooms with children.

They’d waited.

And waited.

After waiting ten years, with only their master bedroom in use, they’d decided on adoption.

Zac was their first child.

He was only five but he could still remember his social worker, Mrs. Bowler, pulling up in front of the house, with its flower beds and porch swing. He’d been sure that there was a mistake, that the man and woman waiting on the steps had wanted one of the other boys in the group home. But then the woman had knelt down, held her arms wide and said, “Welcome home, Zac.” A feeling of disbelief and hope had filled him.

It was the same feeling he got whenever he pulled in to the driveway.

He hurried into the house. “Mom? Dad?”

He was already almost in the kitchen when his mother called, “In here, Zac.”

Deborah Keller was a petite, well-rounded woman, with salt-and-pepper hair she’d pulled loosely into some kind of bun thing, and a smile that lit up the room. She swept Zac into a hug.

He sniffed the sweet scented air. “Cookies? Cake?”

“Gingerbread, tateleh.” She glanced at the clock. “If you wait about ten minutes, you should be able to sample a piece and let me know if the new recipe is as good as the old one.”

“You could probably twist my arm into staying.” He pulled a stool up to the counter. “Cessy home yet?”

“Not for a while. If you have time to wait, I know she’d be thrilled to see you. The house is just too quiet since Layla went to college.” His mom grinned at him. “Of course, if our older children started marrying and gave me grandchildren…” She let the sentence hang there, since he’d heard the entire spiel more than once.

“Just so happens I had lunch with a lovely woman.”

“You did?”

His mom seemed so happy, he felt guilty about misleading her, and added, “Of course, she’s got a boyfriend.”

“A serious boyfriend, or just some man she’s seeing?”

He laughed. “I was only kidding, Mom. It’s serious between them, I guess. They’ve been together now for five years.” He’d collected a lot of Eli Cartwright trivia since he met her a few months back.

“Five years, and they’re still dating?” She shook her head. “That’s not serious, that’s going with the status quo. Why, your father saw me at the fair—”

“And knew I’d met the woman I was going to marry right then and there,” Abe Keller finished the sentence as he walked into the kitchen. He was a big man. He had a Grizzly Adams look about him. A bit wild. His hair was always unkempt and he went days on end without shaving now that he’d retired from Keller’s and left the business to Zac.

Zac watched his father walk over and simply place his hand on his mother’s shoulder—he’d noticed years ago that whenever they saw each other it was as if they needed to touch, to reconnect.

His hand still in place, his father continued the story. “And three months later, I married her. So, why are we trotting out that old story? Did your mom want to set you up?”

“No. I don’t set my children up. I trust them to find their own dates. Zac was just telling me he had lunch with a woman who’s been dating a man for five years. That’s not a relationship.”

“Now, Deborah, we can’t measure other’s relationships by ours. If it works for them.” His father shrugged.

But Zac could, and always would, measure every relationship against his parents’. This is what he wanted. Someone who needed to touch him, even if they’d only been a room away for a few minutes.

“She’s not the one for me, Mom,” Zac admitted with regret. “But when I find a woman as good as you are, one who’s not dating someone else, you can be sure I’ll whisk her off her feet as quickly as I can.”

The timer buzzed. His mom busied herself with the gingerbread and his father took the stool opposite him. “So, if you didn’t come to get set up…?”

“Thought I’d fill you in on the store.”

The next forty-five minutes passed quickly as he and his dad talked business and his mother bustled around the kitchen starting dinner.

Then he heard someone enter before any of them saw her. “Zac.” Cessy ran into the room at full speed, still wearing her coat and bookbag, and threw herself full force at him, trusting he’d catch her.

He stood and did. He hugged his fifteen-year-old sister, Cessy, with her mass of curly brown hair, and her honey-toned skin. She backed up. He was five-ten, and she was almost as tall as he was now. “Stop growing, already, would you?”

“Poor little Zac, intimidated by a tall, strong woman?” she teased.

“If I see one of those, I’ll let you know if I’m intimidated.”

“Hey, you coming to my game on Sunday afternoon?”

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good, ’cause May, Dom and Layla aren’t coming in from Pittsburgh. And Seth—” Cessy stopped short and looked at him. No one talked about Seth, who couldn’t forgive their parents for not being enthusiastic about him marrying Allie right out of high school. They’d loved her. The whole family loved her. Still, their parents had wanted them to wait, but Seth and Allie wouldn’t. When she got pregnant, they’d started to mend the rift, but when Allie died…Zac wasn’t sure what it would take for his parents and Seth to fix their relationship. Seth hadn’t cut them off completely, but he’d erected a wall that their parents couldn’t breach.

He knew Cessy was thinking the same thing as she glanced at their mother, and added, “So, it’ll be you, Mom and Dad cheering me on.”

“I’m pretty sure your brother can make enough noise that you’ll never notice the rest are missing,” his mom said.

Zac looked at Cessy’s face and knew she’d notice. Cessy, more than the rest of them, needed her family around. Zac would rearrange his Sunday. He’d call Dom and May. Granted, they were in their mid-twenties, and busy with their own lives, but if he told them Cessy wanted them at the game, they’d find a way to be there. Layla would fuss about school work, but if Dom or May did the driving, she’d have a little less than two hours in the car each way to study.

And Seth? Well, he’d try. That’s all he could do.

Seth had never gotten over his parents not supporting his marriage to Allie, and since her death, he’d been ever more distant. But for Cessy, he might show up.

Zac would do all he could to get his whole family to the game because it was obviously important to Cessy.

That’s what family did—supported each other when it was important.

And the Kellers knew that better than most.

FRIDAY PASSED QUICKLY.

Eli set things up with Ariel for Saturday morning. She smiled as she remembered the girl’s excitement about the job. But that smile quickly faded as the reality of talking to Arthur that night hit her for the umpteenth time.

Eli had never thought of herself as a coward, but right now, she wanted nothing more than to call and cancel her date with Arthur.

Instead, she called Tucker, hoping her friend would tell her to suck it up and just get on with it. That was Tucker’s normal attitude. Face whatever scared you. And yet ever since she’d told Tucker she was pregnant, her friend had continually surprised her. Instead of giving her a kick in the butt, she assured Eli that avoiding Arthur wasn’t cowardly at all, that it would give Eli time to get her feet back on solid ground.

Eli had used similar phrases to girls entering the program. She’d meant them to be as comforting as she was sure Tucker intended hers to be, but until now Eli’d never realized how hollow they sounded.

She knew her feet weren’t going to be on solid ground or anywhere other than limbo until she talked to Arthur and her parents. She wasn’t sure how long it was going to take her to adjust to the turn her life had taken, and she couldn’t wait any longer. She was pregnant and Arthur deserved to know he was going to be a father.

She clutched the bags with the Chinese takeout as she got out of the car. She’d decided a private dinner was better than a public one for this news.

She stood outside his Brent Hollow condo. The development was for people over fifty. No one younger than that could buy a home here. And no children were permitted.

She was going to have to give up her MINI Cooper and buy a more sensible car and she hated the thought, but she was pretty sure Arthur was going to hate giving up his condo more.

She rang the doorbell and part of her wanted to bolt before he came to the door, but she held her ground.

Arthur opened the door. “Hi, honey.” He kissed her cheek lightly.

He’d given her a key two years into the relationship. She’d felt it necessary to reciprocate. Neither of them used the keys often, though. They were still on doorbell-ringing status.

“Come in.” He took one of the bags. “How’s the pilot program going?”

He led her into the living room and set the bag on the table. They’d shared many meals here, sitting on the floor, in front of a fire during the colder months. He already had the wine open, two glasses waiting.

She sat down across from him, the familiar scene feeling comfortable. “Eli?”

She realized he’d asked about CATA.

“It’s going well. Zac’s agreed to my suggestion for our first student.”

Arthur nodded absently. He didn’t ask anything else about the program.

“So how was your week?” she asked, stalling, needing to catch her breath and find a way to gently break the news to him.

Arthur poured their wine, and Eli took up the glass and raised it to her lips, before it occurred to her that she couldn’t drink it. She set the glass down and tried to gather her wits as she listened to Arthur go on about the students in his class as he dished up his dinner.

He didn’t seem to notice she didn’t follow suit.

“Arthur—” She got as far as his name and couldn’t think of a way to finish the sentence.

I’m knocked up.

Knock, knock, guess who’s knocked up?

What are your plans six or seven months from now?

You know the tour of Europe we’ve been talking about? What about a tour of local hospital maternity wards instead?

Arthur, I love you and we’re going to have a baby.

Hey, Arthur, I’m pregnant. And do you know what irony is? I teach girls who experience unplanned pregnancies, and here I am. I wonder if I can write it off as educational expenses?

“Elinore, are you listening to me?”

She gritted her teeth at the use of her given name. Elinore was a name for someone older, more mature than she was. She was going to have a baby, for goodness sakes, she couldn’t be an Elinore yet.

She’d always hated it when he called her that, but today it grated more than it usually did.

“Eli,” she snapped.

His fork full of General Tso’s chicken froze midway between the plate and his mouth. “What is wrong?”

“I could give you a list, a long, long list of things, but topping it would be the fact I’m pregnant.”

Arthur dropped the fork, and the bright red sauce splashed onto his shirt, but he didn’t make a move to clean it off. He didn’t say a word, but the wave of paleness that moved from the top of his head downward said it all.

Great. Just great. That was slick. What a gentle breaking of unexpected news.

Eli didn’t say anything for a few minutes, letting him adjust to the shock.

When a bit of color seemed to seep back into his face, she said, “I know we didn’t plan this. It’s unexpected. When the doctor told me I didn’t believe him. I thought I was entering menopause. I went to the pharmacy and bought one of each brand of pregnancy test there was and the results were all the same. I’m pregnant.”

She waited for him to smile at her reaction.

Still nothing.

“I go for a second visit on Monday to have a sonogram, but the doctor thinks I’m either entering, or barely into my second trimester.”

“Is it mine?”

Of all the responses she’d imagined, this hadn’t even made the list of possibilities. “Is it yours?”

He nodded.

“Of course it’s yours. I didn’t cheat on you.”

“I wish you would have.” Arthur gave his head a small shake. “I can’t have a baby. We can’t have a…We talked about this up front. I’m almost ready to retire, and you have a busy and satisfying career. We have plans. I want to write my book, we’re going to travel. We can’t have this…”

“Baby, Arthur. It’s a baby. Our baby. I know we didn’t plan it, but it’s here, a reality we’re going to have to cope with. It means adjusting some of our plans, but we can make it work.”

He frowned. “Don’t you see? I don’t want to make it work. And there’s nothing to say we have to. That you have to go through with the pregnancy.”

Her hand immediately moved to her stomach, as if to protect their baby from the harshness of his suggestion. “Arthur, that’s not an option.”

“It is. I’d go with you, support you through the whole thing.”

“I know it’s a surprise, and I wouldn’t condemn someone for making that kind of decision, but it’s not for me. I couldn’t terminate this pregnancy.”

“And I can’t be a father.”

“Oh.” Eli didn’t know what to say to that. She’d expected him to be as taken aback at the news as she was, but she’d also expected him to hug her, to say he’d be there for her, that everything would be all right.

She hadn’t realized how much she’d been counting on that.

“Arthur, we’ll talk to someone and find a way to work this out.”

He shook his head and his shaggy brown hair tumbled over his eyes. Normally, she’d reach over and push it back into place, but tonight she simply gripped her hands on her lap. “What do you suggest then?”

“If you go through with this, I can’t be a part of it. I want nothing to do with the baby. Nothing.”

There was a finality in his tone that cut straight through her. It was almost a physical pain. But Eli wouldn’t give in to it. She sat up straighter. “Fine. You’ll have to see a lawyer, have him draw up papers terminating your parental rights because I won’t have you playing on-again, off-again father.”

“That’s not a worry because I have no wish to be anyone’s father. I’ll see my lawyer, have the papers drawn up. I’ll open a college fund for the baby, in lieu of paying child support, if that works for you.”

She wanted to tell him to keep his money, that they wouldn’t need it, but a practical side of her knew that someday the baby would need substantial financial help with college.

“Fine.” Somehow she found the strength to stand. “Goodbye, Arthur.”

He stood as well, and moved next to her. “I didn’t want things to end like this.”

“I didn’t, either.” She’d barely begun to adjust to the idea of a baby, but when she’d pictured what it would be like to be a mother, she’d imagined Arthur by her side, learning to be a father. It was another future she’d have to let go of.

“Keep in touch.” He moved toward her, as if to hug her.

Eli took a quick step backward. She didn’t want to touch Arthur Stone. Didn’t want the pity she saw in his eyes. She shook her head. “I don’t think so. If we’re going to make a break, let’s make it clean. Call me when you’ve got the papers, and that will be the last you’ll hear from me.”

“Elinore—”

“Eli.” And with all the dignity she could muster, she held her head high and walked out of Arthur’s condo.

She got into her MINI and sat a moment, her hand pressed to her stomach. “Looks like it’s just you and me, kid,” she whispered.

Despite what she’d said to Arthur, she wasn’t sure she could handle this. Wasn’t sure at all. Unlike Arthur, though, she didn’t have a choice. She couldn’t walk away.

She snapped her seat belt into place, put her key in the ignition, then the car in Drive and left.

Left Arthur, and left the life she’d thought she’d have.

For the first time in years, Eli Cartwright was driving without a map. It was disconcerting. It was terrifying.

Underneath all that, there was also just the tiniest bit of exhilaration. There was suddenly a potential that hadn’t been there before.

Rather than driving home, Eli headed toward Tucker’s, knowing her friend would be a hundred percent on her side.

But half an hour later, when Eli finished telling Tucker about her meeting with Arthur, her friend’s reaction was far more vehement than Eli had imagined.

Tucker paced back and forth in her living room. “Penis. Goat-boffing, self-important eunuch of a man.”

“Tucker, sit down next to me.” Eli patted the empty couch cushion. “I feel I have to point out Arthur couldn’t boff goats if he was a eunuch.”

Tucker didn’t stop pacing. Instead, she kicked the ottoman. “He could try. I hope—”

“Stop right there,” Eli warned. “You’re not going to tempt the fates by wishing any plagues—”

“I was going for some penis-eating venereal disease, but a plague would work.”

Eli laughed. Tucker’s reaction was almost a balm to her wounded pride. “How could I have wasted five years of my life on someone who could desert a child?”

Tucker finally sat, but remained resolutely silent.

“You tried to tell me, and I appreciate your not saying ‘I told you so,’ but I’ll say it for you—you told me so.”

“I never in a million years would have expected him to just walk away from this. Oh, I thought he was a boring, pontificating prig—”

“Prig?”

“I’ve been reading historical romances again, and it’s a good descriptive word. And though I thought it would describe Arthur, I still would never have guessed he’d abandon you. To be honest, I can’t imagine him not having opinions—many, many opinions—on how a child of his should be raised.”

“Actually, he doesn’t want it to be raised. He wanted me to go for an abortion.”

“Rat bastard.”

Bart stuck his head in the doorway. “Mom, phone. It’s a guy, some Tyler Martinez.” He spotted Eli and waved. “Hey, Aunt Eli.” He ducked back out again.

“Speaking of rat bastards,” Tucker murmured more to herself than to Eli. She got up and took the phone.

“Yes?”

She listened and was soon scowling. “Are you crazy? No.” And without saying anything further, she hung up.

“Problems with a customer?” Eli asked.

Tucker shook her head and plopped back onto the couch. “Nothing you need to worry about. The way I see it, you’ve got more than enough on your plate.”

“Maybe whatever’s going on with you would distract me? And I so need to be distracted.”

“Nothing’s going on, really. Just a man asking for a date.”

Tucker hadn’t dated often over the years. Not that she wasn’t asked out, but more often than not, she declined. Eli worried about her. Tucker was still young. She should go out and have a good time on occasion. “Is this guy a troll?”

“No. He’s gorgeous, actually, in a sleek, magazine-ad way.” Tucker’s scowl made the idea of a gorgeous man seem less appealing than dental surgery.

“So he’s boorish?”

“Not exactly. Despite his prissy way, he gets along great with Dad and the other guys in the garage.”

“A prig like Arthur then?” She smiled as she used the word.

Tucker shook her head.

“Married? Twelve kids?”

Another no.

“Okay, so a gorgeous, interesting, unattached man who gets along with your father called to ask you out and you say no why?”

“I say no every time he asks.”

“He’s asked more than once?” This was the first Eli had heard about this Tyler Martinez, and she couldn’t help but wonder if there were other men who’d asked Tucker out that she hadn’t mentioned.

“He’s asked me out a few times,” Tucker admitted.

“What am I missing?”

“Some brain cells if you can’t figure it out. I mean, I’m pretty sure his suits are designer—not that I know designer clothes. I mean, there’s Jacqueline Smith stuff at Kmart, but otherwise?” She shrugged. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure that’s what his stuff is, and he’s certainly got money to burn.”

Eli shook her head, genuinely confused. “Still not getting it.”

“Look at me, do I look like the type of woman a man like that would be interested in?”

Eli did look. Tucker was wearing a holey pair of jeans, some steel-toed work boots and a T-shirt that proudly proclaimed It’s NASCAR or Nothin’. The T-shirt was worn thin from too many washings, and hugged Tucker’s body in such a way that no man could miss that despite the work clothes, Tucker was all woman. “I don’t see why he wouldn’t be interested, Tuck. I mean, if I were a man, I’d try to date you.”

Her outrageous comment had the desired effect. Tucker laughed. “If you were a man I’d probably say yes. But he’s different. Too different.”

“Tucker, this Tyler, or any man, would be all kind of lucky to have a woman like you.”

Tucker pulled back, not physically, but emotionally. Eli could talk herself blue in the face, but Tucker would never believe that she was beautiful. It had nothing to do with designer clothes, and everything to do with the kind of woman Tucker was.

And part of what made Tucker Tucker was her complete and annoying stubbornness, which reared its head now. “Let’s change the subject back to you. What are you going to do now?”

“I made plans for dinner with my parents tomorrow night. I expect it’s going to go about as well, or even worse, than how it went telling Arthur.” She loved her parents, saw them at least once a week when they were in town, and talked to them frequently when they wintered in Florida each year. The fact that she would be an unwed mother was not going to impress them. She was forty-four, but obviously the desire to please a parent didn’t go away with age. It might even have gotten stronger.

“I think you’re wrong. They might not be happy, but they’ll stand by you. I have no doubt of that.”

“You’re right. It still won’t be pretty.”

“Maybe you’re wrong.”

“Yeah, maybe. And maybe the earth is going to start rotating backward, and all the bad guys will suddenly become good guys forever and ever.”

She snorted. “And maybe prigs will fly.”

Maybe.

But Eli wasn’t betting on any of it.

CHAPTER THREE

“Time. It can feel as if you don’t have nearly enough time to get everything done. Remember, despite all you need to do, take time to have some fun.”

—Pregnancy, Childbirth and Parenting for Teens, by Mary Jeanne Lorei

ELI NORMALLY LOVED SATURDAYS. She loved knowing she didn’t have to get up and do anything. She loved the idea of leisurely walks, and reading the paper—front to back—over a second cup of coffee. Then possibly doing the crossword puzzle in ink over a third cup.

Today, there was no sense of happiness at the thought as she glanced at the clock. 8:00 a.m.

She didn’t have time for the paper before her meeting with Zac, and even if she did, there’d be no coffee. No caffeine for her for the rest of the pregnancy. And probably not while she was breast-feeding, either. If she breast-fed. Would she breast-feed?

Another decision.

One she simply couldn’t face.

She had to get together with Zac Keller and Ariel Mayor, then she had to hurry home and clean the house before her parents’ visit.

Not that her house was a mess. And she didn’t generally clean before her parents came over. But since she was about to break the fact she was pregnant with no father in the picture, she figured the least she could do was tell them in a spotless house.

After all, that wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

And why on earth did she let Zac talk her into meeting at Tim Horton’s? To smell that wonderful coffee and not be able to have a cup was going to be sheer torture. Okay, she could probably order a decaf, but seriously, if she couldn’t drink the real thing, why bother?

She hurried out to the car, pulling her winter coat tighter.

Winter hadn’t even officially arrived—heck, autumn was only halfway gone—but she was ready for spring.

The thought stopped her in her tracks. By late spring, she’d have her baby. Right at the end of the school year. She’d be a mother. Her whole life would change.

Sometimes, she’d forget she was pregnant. Then, she’d have one of those moments of awareness.

She was pregnant.

She was going to be a mother.

She kept repeating the words as she drove to the coffee shop.

There was no denying it. The life she’d planned was gone thanks to this baby. A small spurt of anger surprised her. She didn’t blame the baby, but she was mad at the circumstances. Arthur could throw up his hands and walk away. She was stuck. Her body wasn’t ever going to be the same. Her life was never going to be the same. It wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair. She couldn’t count the number of times girls said those words to her. Her response? Life’s not fair. Deal with it.

She realized she’d been parked in front of the coffee shop for…she wasn’t sure how long.

Yeah, life’s not fair. Deal with it.

Right now she had to deal with Zac Keller.

She hurried inside and scanned the place. She spotted Zac in line and approached him.

A slow smile spread on his face. “You made it.”

“We’d agreed, so of course I made it.”

“What would you like?” He nodded at the menu.

“A house decaf.” She wanted her caffeine. Wanted it desperately. Already, the baby was impacting her life. Her decisions.

“After all our meetings, you switching to decaf just seems wrong.”

He was teasing, and Eli knew it, so she smiled. “I’m turning over a new leaf. Actually, a few new leaves.” Whether she wanted to or not.

“How does Arthur feel about these changes?”

“Arthur’s out of the picture.” It was the first time she’d said the words out loud in conversation. It made the fact he was gone seem more real. More permanent.

“We broke up,” she added, more for herself than for Zac.

“Oh.” Zac paused. “Sorry.”

“Our relationship had progressed as far as it could. It was time to make a clean break.”

Zac seemed puzzled, and Eli waited for him to ask her more questions, but after a moment, he nodded. They waited in silence for their coffees.

She wondered what he was thinking.

But he didn’t give her a clue. After their drinks were in hand, he simply said, “Why don’t we take the coffees next door to my office and I can show you the schedule we’ve put together for Ariel.”

“Great.”

ZAC AND ELI CONTINUED in silence as they walked to Keller’s Market. Other than the first day, they’d never met in his office. He always insisted they meet over a lunch or coffees. It seemed more relaxed, more personal. And that was just what he’d wanted to be with Eli Cartwright.

The news that she’d broken up with her boyfriend meant he was free to get even more up close and personal.

He’d love to ask her out right away, but he knew he should wait and give her some time to recover from the breakup.

How much time did it require?

Hours?

Days?

Not weeks. No, weeks was too long. Some other guy was bound to ask Eli on a date as soon as the news got out that she was available. Zac wasn’t going to lose out to some quick-on-the-draw stranger.

Since he knew he had to wait, this once, keeping things all business was probably for the best. That was why he suggested taking their coffees to his office.

“Zac?” Eli said.

He noticed they were standing in his office doorway. “Sorry. Thinking about things I have to do.” Mainly asking out Eli. “Have a seat.”

He had a copy of Ariel’s schedule in his briefcase, but handed her the one on his desk instead. “Here you go.”

She reached for it, and for the briefest second, their fingers touched. Zac didn’t think of himself as a sentimental sort of man, which is why his awareness of that smallest of touches surprised him. Of course, it shouldn’t have. Yet, everything about Eli Cartwright touched him.

“It looks—”

Eli was cut off as Cessy burst into his office. “Z-man, help. I need a ride to—” Cessy stopped short as she caught sight of Eli. “Sorry, Ms. Cartwright. I’m not used to Zac having people in his office this early on a Saturday morning. I’m much better behaved on weekdays. Uh, the principal didn’t send you in to talk to Zac about my inability to be quiet in class, did he?”

Eli laughed. “No. I’m not here about you.”

Zac knew he should reprimand his irrepressible sister, but she stood there grinning and practically radiating happiness. He couldn’t muster up even a small tsk of disapproval.

She ran a hand over her brow. “Phew. I’d rather the principal talk to Mom and Dad any day of the week. They’re pushovers. Zac, he’s tough.”

He laughed. “Yeah, that’s why you’re coming to me for a ride somewhere, because of my world-renowned toughness?”

“Zac, I say you’re tough in front of people so they won’t catch on to what a marshmallow you are.” She fished in her pocket and pulled out a small thing to twist her wildly curly hair into a ponytail.

“So, where are we riding to?” he asked.

“I was sort of hoping you’d drive me over to Grove City’s outlets after I finish my morning shift. They’re having a preholiday sale, and I’d really like to go do some early Christmas shopping.”

“Mom and Dad said you could go?”

She shook her head. “I’m going to ask after I have everything set up. It makes it harder for them to say no if I have all my bases covered.”

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