Secret Millionaire For The Surrogate. DONNA ALWARD
DAY DAWNED CLEAR, but the sun wasn’t quite up past the mountains when Drew stepped outside at five minutes to six. He was used to being up this early, either to work or get outdoors. There was a reason why he’d chosen to keep a condo just north of Sacramento. He loved the climate and the abundance of opportunities for outdoor activities in the Northern Californian forests and parks. Hitting the trail for a few hours before starting his workday was a common occurrence.
But he often hiked alone. Today he’d be with Harper, and she’d cautioned him that it wouldn’t be high on the physical exertion scale. That was okay. He could do that on his own time. Instead, he was interested in watching her in action—taking pictures, that is. Pretty as she was, he wasn’t interested in her romantically. How could he be, when she was carrying his brother’s child? He liked her. Had, ever since the wedding. She challenged him somehow, even while being sweet as pie and as unassuming as a daisy nodding in a summer breeze.
He bent to retie his boot and gave a chuckle as he remembered her informing him that she wasn’t a challenge or a trophy. That had been the moment, he realized. The moment he’d started to really admire her. The fact that she was also willing to put her life on hold for nine months to give Dan and Adele a baby only raised her in his estimation.
Though he expected if he asked her, she’d deny that she’d put her life on hold at all.
She pulled up in a tidy little SUV crossover, an all-wheel drive that would be handy in bad weather and rugged enough it would tolerate slight off-road situations. He opened the passenger door and slid inside. “Nice wheels.”
She was looking a little paler than the last time he’d seen her, her freckles standing out on her nose and her cinnamon hair pulled back in a ponytail. “Thanks. I bought a lease-back so I could get something I could carry equipment in and that would handle some bumps and dirt roads.” He’d barely buckled his seat belt when she started down the hill from the hotel.
“It’s nice. A little more cozy than my pickup.”
“You drive a truck?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. I spend a lot of time in the outdoors, and needed something rugged. Plus, you know, I needed enough room to pack some of that gear that I’m selling.”
She made a turn and headed past a sign that said Minnewanka Loop. “Well, I’ll say this for you. You believe in your product.”
He laughed. “I like to think of it as walking the walk.” He looked at her again and frowned. “Are you okay? You look a little pale. We didn’t have to go this early, you know.”
She kept her eyes on the road. “It’s only a little bit of morning sickness. I’ll be fine by ten or so.”
“That’s four hours away.” And what exactly did a “little” morning sickness mean?
“Yep.” She exited off the highway and started up the left side of the loop. “I’ll eat some crackers, drink some water. It will probably only last another few weeks. At least that’s what the doctor and all the books say.”
He shifted in his seat. He’d missed out on the “peculiarities of pregnancy” conversations with his sisters, since he’d moved away from Ontario. He had no idea how long morning sickness lasted or anything else to do with having babies besides what he’d seen on TV, and that was terrifying enough.
“We could have waited to go later.”
She looked over at him briefly. “Oh, no we couldn’t.” She laughed a little. “In two or three hours the tourists will be out in full force, and I like playing with the early morning light. The nausea is an inconvenience more than anything, and I work through it.”
He was glad, too. He wanted to spend the majority of his time today looking around town. In particular, the property that had recently been listed. He’d contacted a real estate agent and was anxious to get a look inside.
He enjoyed the scenery for a few moments, but it wasn’t long until she pulled into a nearly empty parking lot. “It’s a bit of a walk from here to the trailhead, but it’s all easy. Another day I’ll take you to my favorite alpine meadow, if you like.” She smiled as she took the keys out of the ignition and hopped out of the car.
She was still pale, but it wasn’t any of his concern if she thought she was good to go. She knew her body far better than he did, and he’d learned long ago not to presume anything when it came to women’s strength and capabilities.
He’d worn jeans and a light windbreaker over his T-shirt. Last night he’d had a quick look at the trail thanks to a Google search and knew he’d be fine without his customary pack of water and snacks. It was less than five kilometers total, and since Harper hadn’t mentioned going farther onto the other joined trails, he’d kept it to just the jacket, which he could fold and zip up if he got too warm.
Then he turned the corner by her back bumper and his jaw dropped.
“What the heck is that?”
She grinned up at him, a camera slung around her neck and with a huge zoom lens on it. It had to stick out eight inches, probably more like twelve, and looked heavy as hell. “It’s my camera. Wow. We really will be starting at the beginning.”
“Ha, ha.” He grinned and shook his head. “Seriously, how do you not have neck and back issues carrying that thing around?”
“I would if I did it all the time. And Banff isn’t exactly hurting for spa services. I do get a massage now and again.” She pulled another black padded bag out of the back and prepared to shift it onto her shoulders.
“No way. I’ll carry that.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “I carry my own equipment all the time.”
“Sure, but seriously, I have nothing and you have a huge camera around your neck.”
“Maybe I use it for counterbalance.”
He snorted, then grinned. “Maybe you like making it difficult for me.”
When she smiled back, his heart lifted. “I consider that a side benefit.”
But she handed over the pack, with instructions to be careful because there was equipment in there. As well as her water and cracker stash.
The world was still and quiet as they made their way out of the parking lot and down a trail leading to the Stewart Canyon trailhead. There was nothing Drew liked better than crisp, fresh air and the smell of everything green and alive. It was far preferable to days in his office or shut up in a boardroom. Birds chirped in the trees; jays, chickadees and awkward-looking magpies with their long tails and raucous call. Occasionally Harper stopped, looked above and around her and lifted her camera to take a quick few shots. Warm-ups, she called them, but he doubted she did anything like a warm-up. Those photos were considered and shot with purpose.
They met another couple coming out of the trail, and they greeted them with a quiet hello. “There’ve been some bear sightings lately,” the man advised. “Trail’s not closed, but be on the lookout.”
“Thanks,” Drew replied, and frowned. He hadn’t thought of it before, but Harper went into the mountains alone all the time. There were bears and mountain lions to consider.
“I can see the look on your face,” she said, laughing a little. “If you’re afraid, there’s a can of bear spray in the bag.”
He stopped, and there was a look of surprise on her face as he took the pack off his back, opened it and rooted around for the spray. He hooked it onto his belt loop and zipped up the pack again. “Not afraid. Smart. The last thing I want to do is turn a corner and find an ornery mama bear staring me in the face.”
She lifted her camera. “It’s one reason for the lens,” she explained. “I don’t have to get too close.”
“Lead on, then,” he said, but kept the bear spray on his hip. Chances were they wouldn’t see anything, but he’d rather