Because of Baby. Donna Clayton
woman only smiled.
“I’m Paul,” he introduced himself. It was simply out of habit that he didn’t offer his last name. When people discovered his identity, they all too often tended to act a little strange. Effusive and fussy. Paul avoided that as much as possible, just as he avoided the pretensions of limos and first-class accommodations. He liked to think of himself as a regular Joe, just like 99.9 percent of everyone else on earth.
“I’m Fern,” she supplied.
Nice name. The opinion whispered through his head from somewhere in the back of his brain. And completely appropriate, he determined. She had the same litheness and grace as the flowing branches of a fern.
He blinked. It had been a long while since his thinking had taken such a whimsical turn. When he composed his stories, that kind of habitual imagery and quirky reflection had been imperative to his work, but it had been two long years since he’d put a single creative thought to paper. He’d been too busy with real life.
“So, Fern—” suddenly he felt tongue-tied, like an awkward teen trying to break the ice “—you’re on your way to the States?”
“I’m going to America.”
The inflection in her voice almost gave the impression she didn’t know that the two places were one and the same, but that would be rather silly. Everyone knew…
He shoved the notion out of his head and asked, “Is this your first trip abroad?”
She nodded. “It is.”
“So, you’re excited.” It wasn’t a question. He could clearly see the thrill gleaming in her turquoise gaze, and it only made her more beautiful.
If that were possible.
Her smile widened, and that’s when he learned that the concept of her becoming more beautiful was possible, and all it had taken was a smile.
“I am that.”
The words came out sounding like, I yem, and Paul suppressed the pleasurable smile that threatened to curl his lips. He liked her accent.
Then she added, “I’ve never been so excited in me life.”
He chuckled. “I can understand. The first time I visited Ireland, I wanted to see and do everything.”
“That’s the spirit. Savor the adventure.” Her head bobbed twice, the movement sending her curls bouncing. “Now, those words are good ones to live by.”
“They are,” he agreed. “Is this trip for pleasure? Or are you going for a job?”
“I don’t do anything unless there’s pleasure involved.”
Her pointed expression had him going still. For an instant he thought she might be flirting with him, teasing him with a subtle sensual innuendo. But he realized quickly enough that there was no guile in her expression, just as there was none intended in her declaration. In fact, he realized, she was expressing herself simply and honestly, and that was refreshing, indeed.
“I have no idea about a job.” One of her shoulders raised a fraction. “But finding one would probably be important, I would expect. And the experience might be fun.”
“Are you staying with family? Or friends?” He shouldn’t be poking his nose in her business, but he couldn’t help himself. Curiosity simmered in him like a pot of water on a burner.
“No. I know no one in America.” She paused. “Except you and Katy, that is.”
Something stirred inside him, spiraling and twisting to life.
Her gaze dipped. “Sounds like you’re thinkin’ I have a plan. I have to admit, I don’t have one. It’s impossible to plan an adventure, you know.”
The warmth that had curled deep in his belly was completely forgotten. No plan? She was just going to step off the plane in New York and walk out into the unknown? He was hit with what felt like a dozen questions that needed asking. Did she have hotel reservations? Did she have enough money? Did she know it wasn’t safe for a woman traveling alone? Did she have an emergency contact? How would she—
“I’ll be fine. I always am.”
The concern that rushed at him must have shown itself on his face if she felt the need to assure him. But her sweet innocence ignited in him a powerful urge to protect.
Her blue-green eyes leveled on his face. “I think it’s time you told me a little something about you.”
So that ingenuous charm was balanced with a touch of brass. He liked that.
“All you’ve said was that you were eager to see everything in Ireland the first time you visited. So…have you? Seen everythin’, I mean?”
He couldn’t get over the way her brilliant eyes sparkled, seeming to draw him in, luring him to reveal all his secrets. He shook the ridiculous idea out of his head.
He pondered her question for only a moment before all the implications of it had him wincing slightly. “The circumstances between my first visits to your beautiful country and this one were…well, quite different, to say the least.”
She remained silent, evidently waiting for him to expound further.
“I honeymooned in Ireland during my first visit,” he told her. Memories of Maire threatened, but he held them at bay. Now wasn’t the time to be swallowed up by those shadows.
“How lovely. You must have had a grand time of it.”
“We did. And our second trip was just as wonderful. Maire and I had the pleasure of announcing to her parents that we were going to have a baby. Well, we didn’t really have to announce the fact, all they had to do was take one look at her.”
Memories loomed and threatened to swamp him. He took a head-clearing breath. Leaving the past in the past, he rushed ahead to the present. “But this trip, it was just me and Katy. You see, my wife, Maire, died giving birth to our daughter. She experienced some unexpected complications that the doctors hadn’t foreseen. That they hadn’t been prepared for. None of us were prepared.” He was vaguely aware of the far-off inflection his voice had taken on. He cleared his throat. “That was two years ago.”
But the void inside stubbornly remains, the words echoed silently.
With nothing short of brute force, he pulled himself back to the conversation at hand. “Anyway, with Katy being a baby and all, it had been impossible for me to take her back to Ireland until now.” Paul wondered why he was being so free with such personal information. This was so unlike him, yet it just felt right. “Her grandparents had come to visit her, of course, but I want Katy to be familiar with the place where her mother grew up—”
His gaze latched on to Fern’s face, the sight of her mournful gaze cutting his thought clean in two. Sadness seemed to pulse from her, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Warmth permeated every nook and cranny in his being. She was a person of great compassion, a woman with an empathetic heart.
“Hey, now, stop that.” He reached over and smoothed his palm along her forearm. The instant his fingertips contacted her flesh, the intention of comforting the woe she was experiencing on his behalf left his mind as if it had never been there.
Her skin was smooth, the heat of her startling.
Paul pulled his hand away, the topic of the discussion and the delight shooting through him being so at odds that it set off a twinge of guilt that filled him with confusion.
Clearly, what he’d revealed had affected Fern. Careful not to touch her the way his subconscious was willing him to do, he murmured, “That all happened a long time ago. Katy and I are doing okay. Really. We are.”
She didn’t look convinced. But then, Paul didn’t see how his pronouncement should persuade her one way or the other when it hadn’t done much to influence