He took a breath. “You know I wanted to go with you,” he said.

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“Sorry—they called with an opening. And you didn’t seem to be in town,” she answered crisply.

“If I’d known there was an appointment, I would have been there.” Anger began to swell up inside him and he cautioned himself to stay cool. He didn’t want to set her off, though he wasn’t sure what more she could do to screw up his head.

“Look,” she said. “You seem to have more important things on your mind—I don’t even hear from you once a week…”

He took a breath. “Can you get away for lunch today?” he asked her.

She was quiet for a moment. “Paul—forget it, huh? You don’t have to meet me for lunch or for anything else. Clearly there’s nothing between us. You’re getting married—go have your life. I’ll be fine.”

“There’s one thing between us. According to you.”

She hung up the phone.

“Damn it!” he said, slamming down the phone.

“Uh-oh,” Vanni said, standing in the bedroom doorway with Mattie against her shoulder.

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One hand braced on the desk, he hung his head. “She’s got me over a nice little barrel here,” he said, lifting his head and looking at her. “She just gave me my out.”

“I don’t think that made you real happy.”

“No. It didn’t.” He flipped through his calendar. He found the name of the doctor that he’d jotted down, then pulled out the phone book. He couldn’t find Dr. Charlene Weir listed anywhere. “I don’t know what she’s up to.”

Vanni walked toward him. “What was your out?” she asked.

“She told me to go have my life—she’d be fine.”

“Oh, my.”

“You know what kind of problem that is for me,” he said.

“You wouldn’t be happy having a child of yours floating around out there, without knowing you, without your support and protection.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” He dropped an arm around her shoulders, kissed Mattie’s head. “I’m sorry to put you through this.”

“Don’t worry about me, Paul. Just resolve this to your satisfaction—I’m not going anywhere.”

Two hours later he found himself in probably the most unlikely spot in Grants Pass—the office of Dr. Cameron Michaels.

Of course Cameron fit him in, probably hopeful that his visit had something to do with Vanessa. Something that could benefit the good doctor. When Paul explained himself and what he needed, Cameron couldn’t keep from laughing outright.

“I’m sure you find this hilarious,” Paul said grimly. “But the fact is, I don’t have many places to go for a little assistance.”

“I have to hand it to you, Paul. You’re not as clumsy around women as you think. For an unlucky son of a bitch, you sure land on your feet.”

“How’s that, exactly?”

“You’ve got this mess to straighten out and Vanni still wants you. Damn.”

“Stop grinning. This isn’t easy for Vanessa. But if it’s mine, I want to take care of it. I have to. If I’m going to be a father, I’m going to be a decent father.”

Cameron shook his head. “I’m sure you didn’t mean to, but you stumbled into the right place. I’d love to tell you there’s nothing I can do to help you out of this mess—but I’m a children’s doctor. And it isn’t easy to deal with the number of babies who come into this world with parents who don’t give a shit, don’t even want them. At least you do. I’ll hook you up for an ultrasound, which might give you some answers, if you can get her cooperation. You can follow through with a court order for an amniocentesis if you need one to check DNA and confirm paternity. Not for you, not even for her. For this baby she’s carrying.” He flipped through his BlackBerry. “Then you can tell her, if she needs a good pediatrician, you know one.”

Paul went from Cameron’s office to the law firm at which Terri Bradford worked. For the first time he considered the fact that she worked for an attorney. She would know he had legal rights.

Terri was clearly surprised to see him. When she looked up from her desk, her eyes were wide and her expression completely baffled. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“We have to talk. Right now. Today. Have you eaten?”

“Yes, and I don’t want to talk. You’re getting married—you’ll be far too busy to think about me. It’s time for you to walk away from this, leave me alone.” When she stood up from her desk, he noticed the tiniest rounding of her middle and he tried to judge whether it was approximately three months or if maybe she’d just gained a little weight. Her breasts were definitely larger, straining at her blouse.

“You’d better talk to me, Terri,” he said sternly. “I’m not going away and if I have to, I’ll get help. Legal help.”

She leaned over her desk, whispering, “What am I supposed to tell my boss?”

“Tell him it’s a family emergency. Because it is.”

She sighed, shook her head and went into her boss’s office. She came right back and fished her purse out of the bottom drawer of her desk. As she walked toward the door, he grabbed her elbow with a soft hand, escorting her. She was small—much shorter than Vanni. Her shoulder-length dark hair was shiny and her blue eyes large, surrounded by tons of thick lashes. There was every reason in the world to be attracted to someone like Terri. He noticed her body had changed with her pregnancy; she was fuller, rounder—she definitely hadn’t been lying about the fact she was pregnant. The thing missing was that glow a woman carrying seemed to have—but that could be explained by her lack of a partner with whom to bring this baby into the world.

They weren’t even to the parking lot before she stopped walking, turned her eyes up to his and said, “You can let this go. It’s not yours.”

“What? How do I know for sure?” he asked her.

“What the hell does it matter? I’m not holding you responsible for anything!”

“I know,” he said. “I’m holding me responsible.” He looked around. Across the street was a small park. “Come on,” he said, leading her there. There was a bench under a big tree and not too many people around. “Sit down,” he told her. “We’re going to get this straightened out once and for all.”

“I don’t know what your problem is,” she said, sitting down, shaking her head.

“Yeah, you do. I can’t be sure which lie is the truth and which truth is the lie.”

“So?”

“So, if there’s any chance you’re carrying my child, I want to be its father. Is that too crazy for you to understand?”

“Even though you want nothing to do with the mother?”

“That’s not true, either. It’s not like that. If you’re the mother of my child, that comes with respect and support. I wouldn’t ignore your needs.”

“Oh? And how does the woman you plan to marry feel about that?”

“She’d expect nothing less.”

Terri laughed. “Jesus. Aren’t you all just so goddamn decent.”

He nearly flinched. “I need to be sure. I’m not walking away from this without some confirmation. I’m not going to miss out on any time with a child that’s mine.”

“Look,” she said. “It was close enough. I didn’t have anyone and you and I—I thought we worked pretty well. I thought I could pull it off, all right? You caught me. I knew I was pregnant before that night with you. I was thinking of ending it, the pregnancy, but I didn’t want to. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I’m not going to let this be one of them.”

“Can you prove this to me with an ultrasound that shows you are further along than three months?” he asked.

“Oh, Jesus,” she groaned. “I don’t have to!”

“Yeah, you’re going to have to. I’ll hire a lawyer. I’ll sue you for my paternal rights, and to get me off your back, you’ll have to have a test.”

“What kind of test?” she asked, shocked.

“Amniocentesis. DNA.”

She went a little pale. “Does that involve a needle?”

“Yeah, it sure does. Unless we can get some easier answers from an ultrasound.”

“I don’t have another doctor’s appointment for three weeks. Maybe I can convince her to do an ultra—”

“You said your doctor was Charlene Weir. Who, by the way, isn’t in the book.”

“God, you remembered that?” She laughed. “Charlene Weir is my girlfriend. I just tossed it out there. I didn’t want you going to the doctor with me.”

“We’re not waiting three weeks, Terri. I have a place to take you for an ultrasound today. Will you go? Or do I have to hire a lawyer?”

“How can you waste money on something like that?” she asked, perplexed.

“It wouldn’t be a waste. I have to know for certain.”

“Is your fiancée making you do this?”

He stood up. “Not at all.” He held out a hand to her. “Let’s do it.”

She sighed, put her hand in his and let him draw her to her feet. He drove her to the offices of Mary Jensen, M.D. They filled out a lot of paperwork, Paul put his credit card on the visit and a very kind and gentle woman doctor fired up the ultrasound. Since Dr. Jensen, a friend of Cameron’s, knew the purpose of the visit, there wasn’t much talking in the room. It took only moments for the doctor to establish that the pregnancy was closer to four months than three, perhaps a few weeks advanced of Paul’s contact with Terri.

But something happened to Paul as he watched the life inside her, moving around, kicking and squirming. For a big tough guy, things like this were his undoing. Pregnant women were beautiful to him; he hadn’t been great with women but he’d always wanted a wife, a family. Knowing that baby wasn’t his didn’t really give him the relief he expected. Had it been established that the baby was his it wouldn’t exactly have made him proud, either—he’d been trying to keep Terri safe from that complication. He was ambivalent. And he felt a deep sadness for Terri, who despite all her attempts to mislead him, was in a very difficult position. He had sad feelings for the baby, who would not have the love and protection he could offer as a father. The urge to keep the vulnerable safe, to protect the weak with his strength, was natural for Paul.

Terri said nothing at all. She walked ahead of him out of the doctor’s office and jumped in the truck. As Paul got in and started the engine, she looked into her lap, silent. There, she seemed to be saying without words. Done. Over.

He was also quiet as he drove her back to her office. When he got to the law firm’s parking lot, however, he didn’t turn in. He drove around the block and, instead, pulled into that same little park they’d visited earlier. He got out of the truck, went to her side and opened the door for her. He put out his hand. “What are you doing?” she asked. “What now?”

“Let’s talk a minute,” he said softly, gently.

“Paul,” she said, tears brimming in her eyes. “Please. Enough. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. Come on,” he said, pulling her out of the truck. He dropped an affectionate arm around her shoulders and led her back to the bench, and as he did so she leaned against him and began to softly cry. “Sit down, Terri,” he invited her. “Tell me something. Does the baby have a father?”

“Obviously,” she wept, digging around in her purse for a tissue.

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