The Child She Always Wanted

“Marnie might not have wanted it.” That’s what bothered her most about his idea. She believed her friend hadn’t thought the father was best for Heather. “She told me to find you, to give Heather to you.”

“The baby is the father’s responsibility.”

He’s like a brick wall, Rachel decided. She fitted the nipple over the neck of the bottle. Was his resistance personal? When he’d said that, had he been thinking about his own father? According to gossip, Ian Riley had cared more about his next drink than his children. If Kane was letting the past influence him, she’d have a difficult time shaking his belief. “That may be true,” she said, hoping to reason with him. “But right now you’re the only family Heather has. And why would he be better than you?” She looked away in response to Heather’s cry. “I need to get her,” she said, already on her way to the doorway.

“Rachel—”

She paused and looked back at him.

“He would be better.”

A world of pain came through clearly with those four words. Did he really believe that? Why was he so hard on himself? In the bedroom, she lifted Heather into her arms, then rushed back to the kitchen for the bottle. His mistake was still being there. Rachel persisted. “You think a man who used Marnie and left her would be a better father for Heather?”

A hint of challenge skimmed his voice. “You know that for sure?”

“Well, no, but—” She cupped a hand around Heather’s bottle. “Marnie could have revealed the name of her baby’s father, but she never had, never indicated she wanted Heather anywhere except with you.” Greedily Heather sucked on the nipple. “Marnie had thought you’d be best for Heather.”

Under his breath, he muttered something earthy. “That’s what you think. You don’t know that for sure.”

Protectively Rachel brought Heather a little closer to her breast. Why was life so complicated for her? “You’ve never looked at her,” she said as he started to step away.

Stilling, he half turned toward her. “What?”

“The baby. You’ve never really looked at Heather.” Rachel removed the bottle and lowered the blanket that curtained Heather’s tiny face. Eyes squeezed tight, she pursed her lips in a sucking motion. “She’s dark-haired like Marnie.” Rachel raised her gaze. “Like you.”

He was staring. Just staring.

“She really looks like Marnie. She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”