Cradle and All Read online

  How different things would be if only Anne were Tommy’s mother!

  Still, as hard as it was to accept sometimes, Tom knew everything happened the way it did for a reason. He just had to do the right thing and have faith that a higher power would take care of the rest.

  He opened the door to the wood stove and added several thick logs to the burning embers, then slipped off his shoes and sat on the lounge chair across from Anne and Tommy.

  The rain that had started as a sprinkle on his drive home now beat a heavy staccato on the roof. It was barely nine. There was time. He could let them sleep. When she woke, he’d drive her back to Twin Oaks. Not because he wanted to, but because it was the right thing to do.

  Still, it felt right having her here. He’d never imagined himself falling for a judge. But there it was. Beyond any rational analysis and all possible doubt, he knew he was falling for Anne.

  How it could work between them, he had no idea. He just knew that it was up to him to convince her that it could, and would.

  Tom leaned back into the soft cushions of the chair, smiling at her lovely face as she lay sleeping so soundly across from him in the dark room. He wondered what she would say if she knew of his plans.

  Probably something witty and wildly irreverent. He grinned as he stretched back in the chair and contemplated the possibility of waking her with a soft kiss. Would she return it or punch him in the jaw? Maybe he should try it and find out.

  The next thing Tom knew, he was opening his eyes to morning sunlight streaming through the windows. He shot upright and looked at the sofa. It was empty.

  Anne had left and taken the baby.

  Disappointment whipped through him. Until he heard the shower running. Tom smiled as he made a beeline for the bedroom.

  * * *

  ANNE STOOD UNDER the shower, letting the spray of warm water cascade over her and the baby. Tommy giggled in her arms.

  “Like that, do you?” she asked, smiling into his face.

  She rocked him like a football under the spray so he could feel the tingling sensation all over his body, and he giggled some more. It was such a delightful sound that she found herself giggling, as well. She was beginning to understand why parents mimicked their babies. A baby’s delight in the simplest things was contagious.

  She wasn’t thinking about the rocking motion drawing her breast close to the baby’s mouth until Tommy suddenly clutched her breast and latched on to her nipple.

  Anne stopped rocking and became still, stunned and utterly spellbound as she felt the baby become such an intimate part of her. Something so familiar and compelling it felt like a genetic memory burrowed warmly inside her. And then the sensation from the baby’s eager mouth and strong suction on her sensitive nipple shot through her breast.

  “Ouch. Hold on there, little fella.”

  Gently inserting the tip of her finger into the corner of the baby’s mouth, she rubbed his gums until he released her.

  Tommy was not pleased and let out a howl to let her know.

  Anne rocked him against her. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Really I am. But I don’t have any milk to give you.”

  He stopped crying after a moment and Anne switched off the shower. She gave him an extra hug before she stepped out onto the bath mat and grabbed a towel to wrap the baby in.

  Tom’s white terry-cloth bathrobe was hanging on the door hook. As soon as she slipped into it, she found it had that same woodsy scent as his bath soap. Of course, it dropped to her ankles and she had to roll back the long sleeves, but it would have to do. She opened the bathroom door.

  And gave a sudden start when she came face-to-face with Tom.

  He was leaning against the bedroom wall, blocking her way, arms crossed over his chest, looking rumpled and unshaven and just as sexy as hell.

  He gave her an appreciative once-over, from the ends of her wet hair to her bare feet. “That bathrobe looks familiar.”

  “You have keen powers of observation,” she said, determined to project a calm she did not feel. “I need a shirt.”

  Tom shook his head with mock concern. “First you steal my bathrobe and now you want the shirt off my back?”

  “I’d prefer a clean one out of the closet, thank you. Your son spit up his breakfast all over me and himself, and it seeped through my blouse.”

  “I thought you weren’t going to feed him,” Tom stated.

  He knew perfectly well she had done it for him. Annoying male satisfaction just oozed out of his pores.

  “Well, since you were snoring away, someone had to,” Anne said, thrusting the towel-clad baby into his arms.

  As Tom took the little boy, he flashed Anne a look that made her blood very warm. She forgot all about being annoyed with him.

  “He giggled when I bathed him in the shower,” Anne said, aware of an odd note of pleasure in her voice as she stepped farther into the bedroom.

  “Who wouldn’t?” Tom replied, the devil in his eyes as he plopped down on the bed with the baby.

  Nervously Anne eyed her white lace panties and bra lying on the bed next to him.

  “And his rash is gone,” she added, circling around the bed to make a grab for her underclothes.

  Tom watched her slip them into the pocket of the bathrobe, amusement glinting in his eyes.

  Summoning her most commanding tone, as she pointed toward the door. “Out of here.”

  “Commandeers my bathroom. Steals my clothes. And now she’s kicking me out of my own bedroom,” he complained dramatically as he got up and carried the baby to the door. Tom stopped in the doorway to smile back at her. “It’s nice having you here, Anne.”

  It wasn’t until he had left and closed the door behind him that Anne’s heartbeat started to approximate normal again. She realized that, for the first time, the baby hadn’t cried when she’d released him into his father’s hands.

  Maybe Tommy didn’t need her anymore now that he was well. The thought should have been a welcome one. But somehow it left Anne with a hollow feeling.

  She was getting too attached to the little guy. And to his father. That wasn’t smart. Tom hadn’t been forthcoming about his relationship to Lindy. A man who hid things he’d done was generally a man who had done the wrong things.

  It was hard imagining Tom doing wrong. Mistakes, yes. He was human. Deliberate wrongs? That didn’t seem possible. He had too good a heart.

  Anne slipped into her bra and panties and slacks and went to check on her blouse. She had hung it in the bathroom after washing it out. She felt it and found it still quite damp. It was going to take a couple of hours to dry.

  She was definitely going to have to borrow a shirt.

  Tom’s closet was surprisingly tidy for a bachelor, with shirts and slacks arranged in neat rows on hangers. She had found the bathroom spotless and the bedroom in perfect order, as well. An uncluttered space that spoke of an uncluttered life.

  She supposed it fit a priest. But she wasn’t sure if it fitted Tom. Somehow, he seemed too complicated for such simple surroundings. There were no pictures or mementos anywhere, nothing at all personal. Where was the evidence of his past?

  Anne took a dress shirt out of the closet and tried it on in front of the dresser mirror. The sleeves and shirttail were so long she looked comical.

  She returned it to the closet and rooted around in the dresser for something else. She found a faded blue cotton T-shirt and tried it on. It was a little too snug for comfort, so she looked for something to wear over it. After selecting a sleeveless cardigan and pulling it on, she stood in front of the mirror once again.

  The cardigan hid the snugness of the T-shirt, but it came to her knees. She slipped her hands into its pockets, trying to decide if she could pull it off. And found her hand coming into contact with a folded sheet of paper. Anne dre
w the paper out of the pocket and unfolded it. She read the rapid scrawl.

  Tom,

  I think someone’s following me. Have to leave Tommy with you until I can be sure. I’ve thought about what you said. I know you think giving him up is the right thing to do. But I can’t. I love him. And I love you.

  Lindy

  Anne had forgotten until this moment what Keegan had said about a note being left with the baby.

  Was this what Tom had been hiding? That he had been pressuring Lindy to give up Tommy? Was he so afraid for his reputation?

  Anne sank down on the bed. Of course, that had to be it. A priest needed respect from his congregation if he expected to remain their spiritual leader. Without that respect, he had nothing.

  Despite whatever good deeds he might have done, Tom was bound to lose the respect of his parishioners if the facts of this situation were made known. Fathering a child out of wedlock. Refusing to commit to its mother. He might even be kicked out of the priesthood altogether.

  But, still, how could Tom have asked the mother of his child to give up her baby?

  Disappointment settled like a black cloud over Anne’s heart.

  She never should have come to the church yesterday morning. She never should have held the baby. She never should have agreed to help. And she definitely never should have looked into Tom Christen’s warm blue eyes.

  * * *

  TOM GOT A DIAPER on Tommy, fixed himself a cup of instant coffee and sat down to wait for Anne to get dressed. But drinking the coffee soon became out of the question.

  Tommy appeared to have discovered that he had strength in his leg muscles, and he was trying them out for all he was worth.

  Setting his coffee on the table, Tom supported the little guy while he bounced to his heart’s content. Not only wasn’t the child howling, he was cooing and actually seemed happy. Two major victories as far as Tom was concerned.

  Even if his lap had suddenly become a trampoline.

  “So, you’re feeling better, are you?” Tom asked, and wondered why the pitch of his voice had suddenly ascended to that of the cooing child’s.

  As the baby bounced and gurgled and spit at him, Tom took the time to study his tiny features more closely.

  Tommy’s head was very round and his ears were small and flat. In addition to his fair hair and big blue eyes, he had light-bronze skin, high cheekbones, a slender body and long legs.

  All in all, a true credit to his genes. It rather amazed Tom that so much already showed in a body so small. The baby reached out and latched on to Tom’s nose. Tom smiled at the little bundle of energy in his arms.

  “Was Lindy a bad mother?” Anne’s voice demanded from the entrance to the kitchen.

  Tom twisted his head to look at her, surprised at her unexpected entrance and her out-of-the-blue question. Then he totally lost his train of thought when he saw that she was wearing one of his shrunken T-shirts. It hugged her slender waist and the fullness of her breasts like none of her tailored blouses had.

  “Was she, Tom?” Anne persisted.

  “Yes, uh, I mean no—I believe she tried to be good to Tommy,” Tom said, forcing himself to focus on her words. “Why do you ask?”

  Anne studied him for a moment as though she were seeing him for the first time. Tom did not like the reassessing look on her face.

  “It’s not important,” she said, but Tom knew with a certainty that it was.

  “I meant to tell you earlier,” Anne said as she made her way to the back door. “Word has gotten around the village about Lindy’s accident. Hunter is bound to find out about her connection to the baby when he starts asking questions.”

  Tom had figured that was inevitable. But at the moment, he was more concerned with what was happening with Anne. “Where are you going?” he asked.

  “Twin Oaks. I’m leaving by the back way so as not to attract any unnecessary attention.”

  “Everyone in the village already knows that you spent the night here,” Tom said, trying to understand her sudden eagerness to leave.

  Anne halted at the back door. He could see the surprise registering on her face. And then the dismay.

  “When the baby woke me up last night and I saw you were sleeping so soundly, I didn’t have the heart to... I mean, it didn’t occur to me that... I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t let it bother you, Anne.”

  “I know you’re concerned for your reputation.”

  “The people of this village know me,” Tom said. “And they’ll know you were here for the baby.”

  “Will they?”

  “Passing gossip is a way of life for them, but they mean no harm,” Tom assured her. “These are really nice people here in Cooper’s Corner, Anne. They would far rather believe good about someone than bad.”

  “Wouldn’t we all.”

  Her tone was so odd, so distant. He tried to see what was in her eyes, but they darted down to her watch.

  “I have to go. Checkout at the B and B is in just a couple of hours. I’ll send back your shirt as soon as I have it laundered.”

  She was already turning the doorknob.

  Tom shot to his feet. “Anne—”

  “Don’t bother offering to drive me. I’m walking. Fresh air will do me good. Bye. Take care of Tommy.”

  Before Tom could say another word, she was gone.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “SO, HOW’S THE STEAK?” Fred asked Anne over the table at the North End Ristorante in Pittsfield.

  “It’s good,” Anne answered distractedly as she picked at the food on her plate.

  “Then why did you order the fish?” Fred asked.

  Anne stared at the grilled filet of salmon Milanese on her plate as though seeing it for the first time. She knew she’d been busted.

  Giving up the pretense, she put her fork down, leaned back in her chair and faced her friend. “I’m sorry, Fred. I’m not very good company tonight.”

  “It’s that priest, isn’t it,” Fred said.

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Anne, I’ve met the judges, attorneys and businessmen you’ve casually dated and then dumped after a couple of weeks. You never looked at any of them the way you looked at that priest yesterday.”

  Anne was acutely uncomfortable with Fred’s assessment because she was afraid it was far too accurate.

  “Talk to me, Anne.”

  No, she couldn’t discuss Tom, not even with her very good friend. “I was thinking maybe I’d go back to work tomorrow.”

  “Don’t do it,” Fred said. “You need this time off.”

  “Could be I’m just one of those people who can’t take vacations.”

  Fred leaned forward. “For weeks you’ve been telling me how much you were looking forward to gardening and catching up on all that leisure reading you never have time for.”

  “Yeah, well, I tried both today, and you know what I ended up doing? Cleaning the oven.”

  Her friend’s tone turned grave. “That priest has a lot to answer for.”

  Fred didn’t know the half of it.

  “Maybe what you need is to get away,” Fred suggested.

  “I got away this last weekend, remember?” Anne said, not happy for the reminder.

  “I mean really get away. Hop on a plane to the Virgin Islands or Jamaica or some other warm and sunny spot.”

  Anne stared at the sleet slashing against the restaurant’s window. The temperature had taken a sizable dip with the night storm that had rolled in. She pictured herself lying on the beach under a warm tropical sun, palm trees swaying in the breeze.

  “That might not be such a bad idea,” she admitted.

  “You could even hook up with some muscle-bound beach boy and have a wild, one-night
stand.”

  Although Anne tried out the fantasy, it just wouldn’t gel in her mind. “I’m not much for muscle-bound beach boys or one-night stands.”

  “So put a priest collar on him and make it an entire weekend.”

  Anne looked over at the grin on Fred’s face and had to smile. “That’s sacrilegious.”

  “That’s what I was going for,” Fred said happily. But her face quickly sobered and her shoulders stiffened when she looked at something behind Anne.

  “Well, speak of the devil.”

  “Good to see you, too, Fred,” Tom’s deep voice said. “Although I’d prefer you call me Tom.”

  Anne whirled around to see him standing behind her. He was wearing a blue sweater and faded jeans that hugged his lean hips. His hair was wet with rain, his mouth drawn back in an easy smile.

  Damn, he looked wonderful.

  “May I join you?” he asked, and then slipped onto the empty chair closest to Anne.

  “How did you know where to find me?” she asked, still not quite believing he was here.

  “I saw your car outside,” Tom answered easily.

  “Why are you here, Christen?” Fred demanded from across the table.

  “I brought the note I discussed with Hunter earlier,” Tom said.

  “Note?” Anne repeated.

  Tom’s eyes met hers. “Fred didn’t tell you?”

  Anne looked over at her friend. “Fred?”

  “You’re on vacation, Anne,” Fred said, shifting uneasily in her chair. “Besides, this business is getting nasty and it’s not your affair.”

  “This is my affair,” Anne said, not ungently. “Now, what’s going on?”

  Fred exhaled heavily as she leaned back in her chair. “Turns out a couple of hikers up at the campgrounds saw the rusty-red VW Beetle on Friday night in a high-speed chase with a green van.”

  “Lindy was being chased,” Anne said, leaning forward in her chair. “That’s why she was going so fast when she lost control of her car.”

  Fred nodded. “Looks that way.”