No Strings Attached

Normal women achieved their goals.

Normal women wallowed in self-pity on occasion.

Well, one out of three wasn’t bad.

JACK RUSHED into the apartment two hours later, slamming the door behind him, and was relieved to find Samantha reclining on the sofa. He’d been worried as hell since receiving Patty Bradshaw’s phone call.

Tears streaked her cheeks and her eyes were redrimmed from crying. Jack could be macho about a lot of things, but Samantha’s tears wasn’t one of them. He moved forward to comfort her.

“Thank God you’re all right! I’ve been a mess since I got Patty’s phone call.”

Samantha righted herself, eyes widening. “Patty called you? I’m sorry, Jack. I told her you didn’t want to date her, but—”

“Patty wasn’t calling for a date, Samantha. She was worried, said you seemed very depressed because you’d gotten your period. I thought maybe…hell, I didn’t know what to think.”

“As you can see, I’m fine. I just needed to unload this morning, and I chose Patty to bear the brunt of it. I figure you have a lot on your plate right now. And sometimes it’s easier to talk to a woman.”

“I’m never too busy for you, you know that.” He seated himself next to her on the sofa, noting how wan she appeared.

She squeezed his hand. “It was sweet of you to come rushing home. I’m sorry you were worried. Patty should never have called. I hope your business plans weren’t ruined because of me.”

“No. In fact, we got two new clients thanks to Patty. I’ll have to send her flowers or something.”

“That was quick. She just mentioned giving you the referrals this morning.”

Jack smiled knowingly. “I have a feeling Patty Bradshaw doesn’t waste time procrastinating. Hell, she practically ordered me to call the referrals right then and there.”

“Are you going to date her?”

“Hell no! Whatever gave you that idea? Life’s too short to deal with a ball-buster like your attorney friend.” Jack’s stomach rumbled just then. “I’m starving. I missed lunch today. When are we eating? Soon, I hope.”

Rising to her feet, Samantha made her way to the kitchen, Jack following close on her heels. “In just a few minutes,” she informed him, lifting the lid on the pot and inhaling deeply. “I made chicken soup. Doesn’t it smell great?”

“Soup?” His face fell. “You’re kidding. It’s got to be eighty degrees outside. Why are we eating soup?”

Indian summer had attacked New York with the vengeance of marauding Apaches on the warpath. Heat and humidity smothered the city like an unwelcome blanket.

“Because it’s comforting and I needed to be comforted. I didn’t think you’d want puree of chocolate, which was the other choice.”

He reached for her hand. “Listen, Samantha, I know I haven’t been very supportive of your decision to get pregnant, but since you’re so bent on having a baby, why don’t you consider adopting one? It seems the perfect solution to your infertility problem.”

She stiffened and pulled back. “I’m not infertile! I’m just too poor to get any more treatments. And no, I’m not borrowing any money from you, so don’t offer again.”

“Christ! I was just trying to help. There’s no need to bite my head off.”

Samantha’s sigh was desolate. “I know. It’s just…Although adoption seems like a good idea, it doesn’t allow me to experience childbirth. I want to push my own baby out of my body and see something I created. Being a man, it’s probably difficult for you to understand how important that is to a woman.”

“But with adoption, you’d have the same result—you’d have the baby you’ve always wanted.”

“Even though I’m working and earning a living, I don’t think I’ll be considered a very good candidate for adoption. I’m not married, which will go against me. And I doubt I’d pass the scrutiny they put potential parents through. I’ve heard they’re very picky.”

“It was just a thought. Maybe you can look into it, see what’s involved.”

“I guess I could. I don’t have the kind of money or connections Rosie O’Donnell does, but if love counts for anything, my child will never go wanting.”

Seeing how unhappy she was, Jack changed the subject. “Are we still going to the farm this weekend?” he asked, and Samantha finally smiled.

“Yes, and I’m really looking forward to seeing my family. You and I could both use a little R & R. In fact, why don’t we leave on Friday, if you can get away early?”

He was pleased to see her anticipating something fun for a change. “Now that I’m the boss I can do whatever I damn well please. I’ll rent the car for Friday, and we’ll leave first thing that morning.”

“I’ll let Mom know. I’m sure she’ll want to create some high-calorie meals for her favorite house-guest.”

Jack rubbed his stomach. “Man, I love your mom’s cooking. She hardly ever makes chicken soup.”

Samantha stuck out her tongue at him, and he laughed, hoping the trip to Rhinebeck would be just what she needed to make her forget about babies, publishers and anything else that made her unhappy.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE TWO-HOUR DRIVE to Rhinebeck seemed longer than usual to Samantha, owing to the traffic heading north out of the city—caused by fall foliage fans, she assumed—and her eagerness to see her family again. So when the weathered gray-and-white clapboard farmhouse finally came into view, she could barely contain her excitement.

“Look, Jack, it’s still standing! I always hold my breath until I see it again.”

The two-story house had been in the Brady family for generations. Samantha’s great-great-grandfather, Benjamin Brady, had built it with his own two hands, though it wasn’t nearly as grand back then as it was now. Her mother, Lilly, had insisted on adding a big gourmet kitchen and dining room large enough to accommodate a table where the extended family, including nieces, nephews and cousins could sit together.

Two massive oak trees graced the front yard, providing shade and entertainment for the younger children, who loved to climb them. Surrounding the house beyond the lawns and garden were acres of apple orchards, lovingly tended by her dad and older brother. Ross helped them out on occasion, but his heart wasn’t in the land, not like Lucas’s.

Fred Brady was fond of saying that your heart had to be engaged when tending apples because they needed as much loving attention as a woman. And if you loved your orchard as much as you did your wife, it would reward you with thousands of healthy offspring every year.

Samantha’s dad tended to wax poetic when it came to his apples.

“There’s Mom.” She pointed toward the wraparound porch where Lilly Brady was standing. “She must have heard the car.” There wasn’t much that got by her mother, which had made growing up in the Brady household tough.

“Remember the time my mom caught us smoking behind the barn? As I recall, you got spanked much harder than I did.”

Jack made a face at the memory. “And it was your dumb idea that we smoke those stupid cigarettes in the first place. But since I was a bit older, and a boy, I guess your mother figured I deserved the worst of the beating.”

Samantha grinned. “Well, at least it taught you never to smoke again.”

“I hope your parents don’t mind that I’m staying here. I’ve been worrying about it.”

Her brows drew together in confusion. “But why, for heaven’s sake? You don’t need an engraved invitation to visit my family. My mother thinks the sun rises and sets on you. She also knows how things are with your parents and doesn’t mind at all that you stay here.”

Despite her reassurance Jack didn’t look convinced. “Maybe I should get a motel,” he offered, but only halfheartedly.

“Are you serious? What’s brought this on all of a sudden?” Jack had stayed with her family many times over the years and had never voiced any concern.

“I don’t know. I guess I feel kinda funny coming here and acting like I’m one of the kids. I’m a grown man now, Samantha. Your parents shouldn’t be putting me up anymore.”