A Texas Soldier's Christmas. Cathy Thacker Gillen
she demanded, “What in heaven’s name are you talking about?”
So. She was going to carry the ruse on to the end. Another disappointment. He’d thought she was better than that.
He met her glare equably. “Our son?”
Her delicate brow furrowed. “You and I don’t have a baby!”
“Your Facebook page says differently.”
“First of all, you and I aren’t Facebook friends.”
“And now I know why. Because you didn’t want me to know about the baby.”
She drew a deep breath and shoved a hand through her hair. “Obviously, you are referring to all the photos of Liam I’ve posted since I adopted him three months ago.”
Adopted!
Zane paused. “You didn’t say anything about that in any of the photos.”
“Maybe because I didn’t need to!” Flushing, she turned away. “Maybe all I need to know—all anyone needs to know—is that he is my son and I love him with all my heart, you dumb son of a gun!”
She was swearing at him again.
That meant she still had some feelings for him, right?
“Hey.” Still holding her gaze, he aimed a thumb at his chest. Not ready to give up on what he had assumed up to now to be true, he shot back, “The timing fits.” Too well for comfort, if you asked him. “We broke up a year ago. The kid was born three months ago.”
Looking as if it were taking every ounce of self-control she possessed not to slug him, Nora nodded. “So naturally he had to be yours. Right, soldier?”
She hadn’t slept with anyone else. Of that he was certain. She was as much a one-man woman, as he was a one-woman guy.
Hence, there had been only one conclusion to jump to. Still could be. Aware there was a very good reason—in her mind anyway—for him not to be named the little tyke’s daddy, he folded his arms across his chest. “Let’s just say that there was a definite probability.”
Just as there was a definite probability their on-again, off-again relationship was about to be right back on.
Her brow lifting in disdain, she huffed, “Which is the only reason you showed up here like this! So you could do your duty and honorably acknowledge paternity!”
He wanted to say it wasn’t true.
But he couldn’t.
The minute their mutual friend had showed him the social media pages, he had started making plans, arranged for long-overdue leave and hopped a flight back to the good old US of A, figuring Christmas had come early for him, too.
Nora Caldwell, however, apparently had other ideas.
Ideas that apparently did not include a welcome home hug and kiss. Or anything else of a friendly nature.
She clamped her soft, kissable lips together tightly. Looked him up and down, finding nothing but fault. “I see.”
Did she?
Because as far as he was concerned, adoption or no adoption, this was their big chance. Maybe their last chance. If they could go back a step and start this reunion over. Something that again did not appear to be in her game plan.
“Well. Nice seeing you again, Lieutenant.” She whipped her hands off her hips and shoved him none too gently toward the portal.
He dug in his heels. Once again, he had blown it with her, without meaning to. He lifted both hands in abject surrender. Not a usual acknowledgment on his part. “Nora...”
His heartfelt plea fell on deaf ears.
“Don’t let the door hit you on your way out!” She gave one final shove to the center of his chest, and then he was standing on the other side of the portal. Her office door slammed in his face.
* * *
THE FIRST THING Zane noticed was the fact he wasn’t alone. In fact, quite a crowd of senior men and women had congregated in the hallway. The expressions on their faces indicated they had heard at least part of what had transpired.
The second thing he saw was a young woman dressed like a student, in jeans and a community college T-shirt. She had a diaper bag slung over her shoulder, a baby boy cradled in her arms.
Liam.
Zane had spent enough hours poring over the social media photos, while on the flight home to Texas, not to recognize this little angel. The tiny fella was again dressed all in blue. He had a cute little face and the same long-lashed sky blue eyes as his mother. The hair peeking out from beneath the cap was light, too.
No wonder Nora had called him the love of her life.
Zane was completely captivated by him, too.
As were all the smiling seniors.
“Umm...is Nora available?” the young woman asked. “She usually collects Liam when she gets off work, which should have been about ten minutes ago. And I’ve got to go to class...”
The office door swung open. Nora stood there, a light jacket thrown over her uniform, car keys in hand. “Hey, Shanda. Sorry if I kept you waiting.”
“No problem.” With a smile, Shanda handed little Liam over.
Zane stood there. Ready to apologize again. Nora sent him a look. “Don’t even...”
The circle of seniors seemed to agree it would be a bad idea to talk to her now. So, cursing the circumstances—which always seemed to be against them—Zane left.
* * *
“WELL, THAT’S A RELIEF,” Nora murmured to Liam as she ducked back into her office, gathered up their belongings and walked out to her red minivan. He cooed as she put him in his car seat. “I wasn’t sure Zane was going to exit so readily.”
Liam stared up at her, listening intently.
“It’s a long story,” Nora reassured her baby boy. Finished buckling him in, she shut the door and climbed into the driver seat. “The bottom line is, Zane would not approve if he knew exactly how and why you came into my life. He would tell me that letting someone else out of their familial obligations and adopting you was a big mistake that could only hurt me in the end. And he would be wrong.” Nora drew a deep breath as she turned off Spring Street and onto Wildflower Lane, then into her own driveway. “Because I know firsthand how a child needs at least one parent in his or her life. Every day. I know what it feels like when they’re not,” she said, putting her minivan in Park. “And I am going to be there for you, my darling baby boy.” Whether Zane likes it or not.
Liam chortled in agreement.
Nora grinned at her son’s happy acknowledgment, then got out to begin their evening. As always, it began with a leisurely postworkday play session. She read him a few stories—on the premise that it was never too soon to start loving books—then followed that by giving him a relaxing bath. When he was cozy in his pajamas, she sat down in her rocking chair to feed him a bottle.
He drank it readily, burped like a champ and then fell asleep to the sound of his favorite lullaby. She was just about to ease him out of her arms when a knock sounded at her front door.
Wondering who it could be, she set her sweetly snoozing son gently down into his Pack ’n Play. She moved soundlessly to the portal. Opened it. And sighed.
“You again,” she said.
“I thought we should start over,” Zane Lockhart said, capturing her gaze in that intent way that always made her catch her breath.
Nora