The Pregnancy Clause

Once more, his rebellious mind centered on the woman who’d ridden away from him—looking like a part of her horse—a few hours ago. Woman. Equating the Emily on that horse with the girl-child he’d left behind sixteen years ago reminded him of his reasons for leaving and for not telling her he was going. Back then, he couldn’t have withstood the pain in her eyes any better than he had today.

He admitted he owed her an explanation, but giving her one was a whole different ball game. How could he explain that, sixteen years ago, in the space of a few hours, the life he’d always known had fallen apart? Would she understand that he’d had to find out who he was, get answers, and that those answers lay somewhere beyond the village of Bristol ? Would she care that he hadn’t found those answers, but that he’d made peace with all that and had come home to stay? Probably not. Their earlier meeting proved conclusively that he’d put the last bullet into the special friendship he and Emily had shared.

A persistent question niggled at the edges of his mind. If he’d made peace with all that, why was he here looking to hire a P.I.? Because the answers to all the questions didn’t matter anymore. Only the answer to one. Why? And only that one because he was curious. Curious as to why his birth parents had left him and allowed him to be adopted by the Madisons.

Kat picked up a glossy magazine, leafed through it then tossed it aside. The fragrance of the receptionist’s perfume wafted to him. Its flowery scent brought to mind an image of his adoptive mother. With that image came more, until he could no longer keep the memories at bay.

In his mind, he stepped through the half-removed doorway and into the house in which he’d grown up, the house where he’d known love, laughter and the warmth of a family…until sixteen years ago. He climbed the stairs to their bedroom.

Slowly, memories of the day he’d come home after his parents’ funeral crowded his mind. Their room had been untouched by the fire. The closet door hung open, just as it had back then. Sitting on the floor…

Unwilling to get into reliving the day his life had exploded around him, he shook away the memories and strode to the office window. He squinted his eyes against the glare of the bright June sunshine blanketing the city of Albany, New York.

Taking refuge where he had so many times over the years, he thought about Emily. The way his insides always warmed when she smiled at him. The way the mischief in that smile forecast one of her schemes, a scheme that would include him and would inevitably end in disaster. Emily, with tears in her eyes, asking him to help her bury a stillborn kitten or understand why her father had broken another promise. The cool smoothness of her lips on his cheek the day he gave her a necklace for her thirteenth birthday to mark her transition from child to teenager.

He’d told her the tiny gold key suspended from the delicate chain represented the key to their friendship. But after he’d found himself alone and miles away, he’d wondered if it had been the key to something more.

Today, that old magnetism connecting them had tugged at his heart. Back then he’d have coaxed a smile from Emily, but today he’d had to watch her pain and do nothing. Now, instead of using their friendship as a refuge, they’d been on the outside, both of them, for their own reasons, afraid to step back into the circle.

A knot of regret formed in his stomach. He hit the windowsill with his balled fist. “Why in hell did I think coming back here would be easy? Why didn’t I just stay away?”

“Excuse me? Did you say something?”

Kat glanced over his shoulder. The receptionist peered around the silk plant. He shook his head. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb you. Just thinking out loud.”

“Oh.” She dismissed him and went back to her computer.

Before he could immerse himself in his musings again, the door marked Private opened and two men came out shaking hands. The older of the two men nodded at the redhead and walked toward the bank of elevators outside the glass wall fronting her desk. The other man stepped back inside the den of privacy and then closed the door.

Turning his attention to the receptionist, Kat waited expectantly.

“You can go in now, Mr.—” she checked the black leather appointment book again, pointedly telling him that she had dismissed him as easily as he had her. Her sultry expression told a different story “—Madison.”

In another time, Kat would have made some clever remark, charming forgiveness for his rude behavior from her, but not today. Today, he had more important things on his mind than a redheaded receptionist with welcome in her eyes. Today he thought only of a dark-haired vixen riding away from him, as if wind-devils pursued her…and the things he’d found in his parents’ closet sixteen years ago: a small, hand-carved cradle, a metal box holding his adoption papers and a note to the Madisons from a minister outlining how he’d been found.

EMILY FINGERED the tiny key on the chain around her neck. She gazed absently out over the front lawn of her house and pushed at the porch floor with her foot to keep the old rocker in motion.

She’d grown up on Clover Hill Farms. Seen the Kingston fortunes rise with the popularity of their prize stud horses. And she’d seen them fall when a horse died. She’d watched the joining of a stud and mare, then, eleven months later, seen the fruit of that union in the face of a spindly-legged foal. She’d cried when the foals her father had bred for others had left for new homes. And she’d loved it all, every minute of it.

Could she turn her back on it?

The monotonous, back-and-forth motion of the rocker reflected the rhythm of her thoughts.

One minute the idea of caring for a small, helpless human being scared her so much, she actually contemplated, if just for a split second, giving up the farm. The next, the notion of having someone to love and to return her love, to look up to her for guidance, to laugh with her, to share her solitary life, made her go all warm inside.

After an hour of rocking and thinking, she’d come to some pretty startling conclusions. The idea of having the baby and caring for it didn’t scare her, or at least not as much as other aspects of this mess. What scared her more was the idea of having to allow a man close enough to accomplish the task. As far as Emily was concerned, she’d rather go nose-to-nose with an unbroken horse than trust a man, any man. There had to be a way…

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since the slightly singed toast she’d had for breakfast. The thought of eating another solitary meal made her want to cry. Resolutely, she got up, went inside and grabbed her purse, then headed for her car. Even Tess’s prizewinning gray meat loaf was preferable to another sandwich alone—then again, maybe she’d settle for a side trip to her favorite fast-food stop on the way to Honey’s for some much needed advice.

EMILY AND HONEY shared the top step on the back porch of Amanda Logan’s big, white house. By Bristol standards, the Logan house claimed mansion status. To Em, however, it had always been as warm and welcoming as her own ranch house. She was sure that Honey’s mother-in-law had a lot to do with that.

Sipping iced tea and watching Danny chase the yellow balloon she had brought him, Emily mentally snuggled down into the familiar warmth she always felt here.

Honey ran a finger down her sweating glass, leaving behind a trail of water droplets. “So, have you made any decisions about the farm?”

Emily frowned at her sister. “What do you mean decisions about the farm? I’m keeping it, of course. I’ll have the baby.”

Sitting her glass down at her feet, Honey wiped her wet hands on her denim-covered thighs, then looked Emily straight in the eye. “How many dates have you had recently?” Emily was about to respond, but Honey held up her hand. “Let me reword that. When was the last time you had a date?”

Snapping her mouth closed, Emily searched her memory. Though she struggled for an answer that would satisfy her sister, none came to mind. The last date she could recall was a year ago on New Year’s Eve with Sam Davis, the grandson of one of Rose’s friends. Rose said she had arranged the date because Sam was in town for just a few days and his grandmother was concerned that he’d be alone New Year’s Eve, but Emily wasn’t sure Rose hadn’t had an ulterior motive. If she had, it hadn’t worked. Sam was nice, but certainly didn’t rock the earth beneath Emily’s feet.

Honey leaned back, a knowing look filling her eyes. “I thought so. You haven’t had a date in so long, you can’t even recall when it was.”

“I can too recall it.”

“When?”

“Last New Year’s Eve.”

Honey’s red lips quirked to one side. “That was arranged. It doesn’t count. Besides, Em, that’s over a year ago.”

Avoiding her sister’s censuring look, Emily watched Danny chase his balloon across the lawn, hit it, then bound off after it again. She felt a bit like the balloon. In the past two days, she’d been battered from pillar to post with other people’s conclusions about her life. She needed to come to some decisions, something that would signal she’d taken back control. But Honey usually thought in absolutes and Emily had none, so she couldn’t broach the subject just yet.

Grabbing for something to steer the conversation in a new direction, she settled on one of the other unexpected events of her long day. “Guess who’s back in town.”

Casting Emily an I-know-you’re-avoiding-me look, Honey asked, “Who?”

“Kat.”

Sitting up straight, Honey gaped at Emily. “Kat Madison?”

“One and the same.”

“What’s he doing back here?”

“I saw him working on the old Madison place.”

“Do you think he’s back to stay?”

Denying the hope that surged through her at that consideration, Emily shook her head. “No. I have the feeling he’s fixing it up to sell it, then leaving again.” The thought sat in her stomach like a large rock.

“And?”

Emily stared at her sister. “And what?”

“What happened?”

“Nothing. What did you expect to happen? I haven’t seen the man in sixteen years.” She threw Honey an impatient look and turned her attention back to Danny. Uncomfortable with having to relate to Honey what she’d said to Kat, Emily switched subjects for the second time. “So, what do you think I should do about conceiving a baby?”