A Bride for Jackson Powers (Desire, 1273) (5 page)

Purely as a diversion, he launched into a fresh topic of conversation. “Did I ever tell you about my great-great-grandfather?”

“Your what?” She stared at him as if he’d finally cracked.

“My father’s side of the family. I’d never heard about him until I was fifteen, and haven’t spent much time thinking about him since. But after Sunny’s appearance on the scene, I’ve been struck by an odd coincidence.”

If he’d wanted to distract her, to break through that
tricky combination of pride, panic and vulnerability, he’d succeeded.

“What coincidence?” she asked suspiciously. “Where does Sunny fit into your great-great-grandfather’s coincidence?”

“First you have to know that I was adopted at age six by an elderly relative after my mother dropped out of sight. I never heard from her again until one day, out of the blue, I got this package in the mail from a law firm in Missouri. My mother had died, and among her things was a bundle of letters from my dad, written when he was in Korea. I think they must have separated before he went. Years later I learned that he’d been killed there, but that’s not the story I set out to tell.”

Hetty ached for the child who had grown up without a father and whose mother had abandoned him without a backward look. At least she had memories, even though not all of them were good.

“There was a diary—more of a log book, actually—that had been packed away all these years along with my father’s things. Thank God my mother didn’t toss it all out, the way she did—”

He broke off, and Hetty wondered what all this had to do with anything. Wondered even more why he was telling her now, just as they were about to go their separate ways. They’d talked about everything under the sun just to pass the time, but nothing really personal.

Well, she might have mentioned something about her own family. After all, what else did she have to
talk about? But now that he was about to leave, she didn’t really want to know about his family. He was going to be hard enough to forget without being able to see him against a background.

“I think you mentioned that one of your great-great-grandfathers was a sea captain,” she ventured.

“That’s the one. Jackson Matthew Powers, the original. Back in the days of sail, he ran the West Indies route, hauling mostly rice, rum, sugar, molasses and lumber. There were a few yellowed old manifestos tucked between the pages of the ledger. The old guy wasn’t much of a bookkeeper.”

“You said something about a coincidence?”

“About the babies. You know, it’s the damnedest thing. I never thought much about it before—I mean, it was an interesting story, but I was more interested at fifteen in tales of storms weathered and waterfront brawls, and how the old man assured himself of a crew when he left port by jailing them all after the first night of hell raising, whether they deserved it or not.”

“Mercy, he doesn’t sound like a pleasant character.”

“Those were tough days. He might even have saved a few lives by preventing trouble before it broke out.”

“Where does the baby come in?”

“Okay, I’m not too clear on this, but as I understand it, for some unspecified reason he put his ship up for sale and settled on the Outer Banks at a place called Powers Point when he was still a relatively
young man. Some of his crew settled there with him, in what started out to be an all-male household.”

“There must have been at least one woman somewhere,” Hetty observed.

Motorized carts were beeping past as passengers were transported to their respective gates. Jax glanced up at the monitor, then flexed his hands. Hetty stared at them, trying to forget how warm and strong they’d felt on her body.

“Where was I? Oh, yeah…women. There were several, matter of fact, but the one that started the trouble was married to a fisherman from the nearest village. It seems the lady took a shine to my great-great-grandfather’s first mate. One day about a year after they’d settled ashore, the lady’s husband came to Powers Point. He was carrying a brand-new baby under one arm and a shotgun under the other. Seemed his wife had confessed to having an affair with the young seaman. Evidently, the fisherman wasn’t, uh—sufficiently productive—and he suspected the kid wasn’t his.”

Sunny started to whimper in her sleep, and both Jax and Hetty reached out at the same time to comfort her. Their hands met on the baby’s stomach. She would’ve pulled hers back, but he captured her fingers and refused to release them.

“Shh, don’t wake her up,” he murmured.

He held on to her hand, and both of them watched the board because neither dared look at the other. There it was again, that shivery sense of being connected by a powerful, invisible bond.

“What happened?” she whispered.

“Happened? Oh, yeah, the baby. Well, as near as I can make out, something pretty bad happened that day that ended up with the old guy—my great-great-grandfather—of course he was younger then, becoming the official guardian of a newborn baby girl. Can you beat it?”

“What happened next?”

He shrugged. And then he dropped her hand and sat up straight. “Hey, what do you know, I think we just got lucky. Hang tight and let me see what I can work out, will you?”

Strange, how lonely one could feel in the midst of thousands of people. Hetty watched until Jax disappeared into the crowd, then edged closer to Sunny’s carrier. She made up her mind to see them off with a smile if it killed her. Once they were gone she would put into effect her own plan, which so far consisted solely of demanding, insisting, whining and complaining. It had always worked for Jeannie.

Except for a few sleepy sounds and some smacking of the gums, Sunny slept through it all. After a while Hetty lifted her from the carrier and cradled the warm body in her arms for no other reason than that she needed the comfort of holding someone close.

She watched for Jax to reappear. Searched for a glimpse of his dark head, that proud, beard-shadowed face with the square jaw, the arched nose and the deep-set, dark-blue eyes.

And then she saw him. He was standing at the ser
vice desk, speaking rapidly with a uniformed attendant. He smiled and nodded, and her heart sank.

Forcing herself to concentrate on her own plan, she wondered which to try first. The woman at the console or the traveler’s aid lady. Traveler’s aid might be the best bet. They were probably used to dealing with stranded travelers, else the airports would all be filled with homeless wanderers.

Jax had mentioned a proposition. That could mean most anything, but in a man-woman context, it usually had only one meaning. She hadn’t dared ask.

But the answer was “no.” No way, under no circumstances. Not because she didn’t want to, but because she had better sense.

Once before she had let herself be rescued from an impossible situation by a man. Gus had come along just as she was thinking of running away from home to escape her father. She had known Gus all her life, but only the way people in small towns knew other people by sight or reputation. He’d been a Vietnam veteran. A pilot, a hero, some said.

He had certainly turned out to be a hero where she was concerned. She’d been seeing him for years in Olesen’s Hardware. She remembered thinking he was nice looking, for an older man. Then one day he drove out to deliver a barrel of heating oil, and he’d seen her with badly bruised arms, a black eye and a swollen lip. And he’d known, because Vern Reynolds’s temper and his drinking were no secret around town.

So he’d taken her home to his mother, and a few days later they’d been married. She had spent the next
eleven years as his wife, being treated with kindness and an affection that had helped her to heal. She had looked after his mother, who was frail and a little silly, but wonderfully kind. She had done her best with his young daughter, trying hard to overcome the child’s natural resentment. She had been as good a wife to Gus as any frightened, inexperienced young girl could be to a man more than twice her age.

It had been a busy but safe and comfortable life. With her mother-in-law’s advice, she had learned to be a better cook, to sew, to deal with a rebellious teenager. She had watched her husband eat his supper in silence every night and then doze in front of TV in his work clothes and sock feet. On Friday nights they would go upstairs and make love quietly so as not to disturb either Sadie or Jeannie.

It had been pleasant. Gus had always fallen asleep immediately afterward, but he’d never failed to thank her the next morning, which she thought was incredibly sweet.

When he’d been killed, she’d held the family together. When Jeannie had started getting in trouble at school and staying out all night, she had dealt with it the best way she knew how.

When Sadie had suffered the first of a series of strokes, she had dealt with that, as well, and when Jeannie had run away, she’d been torn between chasing after her and nursing Sadie.

And then Jeannie had brought her Robert, and between Sadie and the baby, she had
really
had her hands full.

She would go back, because it was the proper thing to do. And because she had nowhere else to go. And because family was important, and she missed Robert.

But this time she would remain independent. Never again would she risk depending on anyone other than herself.

“I
t’s all settled. You’ve got a seat on the flight that leaves at 3:10 for Norfolk.” Jax looked as smug as if he’d just pulled off a major coup.

As indeed he probably had. It hadn’t taken long for Hetty to discover she could be here for hours, if not days. Half the people around her were clamoring to change their itinerary, their original plans having been ruined by the delay. They’d been arguing the point ever since he’d come back to tell her what he’d done on her behalf.

“I haven’t actually said I’d do it, not in so many words.”

“Anyone ever call you stubborn?”

“Stubborn can be a good trait.”

“Not if it’s taken to unreasonable lengths. Hetty, you know it’s the right thing to do. Sunny needs you. She’s used to you. What the devil am I supposed to do for the next few days until I can make other arrangements? Take her to the office with me? Sneak her into an adults-only apartment complex? Bring in a baby-sitter I don’t know from Adam and entrust her with my child?”

She couldn’t answer his question, and so she asked one of her own. “Why would anyone want to live in a place that doesn’t allow children?”

He closed his eyes momentarily. Hetty knew his head still ached, by now she recognized the signs. She also knew she gave new definition to the word
pig-headed,
because she’d been told as much on more than a few occasions by both her father and her stepdaughter.

But it was important to learn all she could before she agreed to anything, because the last time she’d acted on impulse it had turned into a major fiasco. Which was why she was here in the first place.

“Well?” she persisted. “I know all about condos and apartments full of swinging singles—my mother-in-law used to watch daytime TV. I don’t really think you’re that kind of man, but all the same, if I’m going to do this thing I need to know everything there is to know about what I’m letting myself in for.”

He shook his head slowly. The look on his face said, I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.

But then, neither could she.

“Because I needed a place to live,” he said tiredly.
“Because it’s conveniently located. Hell, how do I know? I’ve never had to explain my choices before. Now, are you going to help us out, or are you going to take up permanent residence in Chicago?”

“It probably wouldn’t have cost any more to get me a ticket back to Oklahoma City. I’d have paid you back.”

“Not a chance, honey. You wouldn’t have made it out anytime soon, and I don’t want you hanging around this place any longer. The clincher is that I already had two tickets to Norfolk. I bought Sunny and her carrier a separate seat, but legally she’s still young enough to fly on my ticket.”

“Then why did you buy two?”

“Because it’s a damned long way from California to Virginia,” he snapped. “Hetty, are you doing this deliberately?”

“No, I only want to be sure I know all the details before I commit to anything.”

Her father would have whopped her across the face long before now. Jeannie would’ve locked herself in her room with a pack of cigarettes, a jar of peanut butter and a telephone.
Patience
wasn’t a word that could be used to describe either of them.

Jax took a deep breath and went over it all again. “I’m going to have to find a baby-sitter, a house and a housekeeper, in that order. Meanwhile, I’ll be transferring as much of my caseload as possible to Jason.” He’d mentioned the junior partner of his small maritime law firm before. “I’m not sure I can do all that needs doing while I’m holding a baby in one arm.”

“Well…I don’t know,” she stalled.

He took one of his daughter’s tiny feet in his hand. “See, Sunshine? What’d I tell you? Stubborn as a mule. You sure this is the one you want?”

Hetty didn’t want to smile, because she was still terribly uncertain if this was the right thing to do. If he had an ulterior motive, she couldn’t imagine what it could be.

And if he didn’t…well, she might be disappointed, but it wouldn’t be the first time.

As if taking her acquiescence for granted, Jax began gathering up Sunny’s paraphernalia, his coat and briefcase. “Face it, Henrietta, we both got lucky. If the weather hadn’t fouled up, I’d be in Norfolk now, trying to figure out how to juggle work and single parenthood. You’d be cruising the Caribbean in all your fine feathers, breaking hearts and fielding proposals.”

She muttered “horse manure,” which was tantamount to surrender.

Jax knew it, too, judging by his tired grin. Hetty said, “Well, all right, but it’s strictly temporary. And I’m only doing it for Sunny’s sake, because she deserves someone who knows something about babies.”

“Great! What do you have to lose?”

What did she have to lose? Only everything. She might act foolishly on rare occasions, but she was no fool. She was wildly attracted to a man who would use her until he no longer needed her, then walk away without a backward glance. Because in spite of her
fancy clothes and new hairstyle, Hetty knew she wasn’t the kind of woman men looked back at.

The fact that she’d literally slept with him a few times didn’t help matters. He’d been aroused, but that was a normal, male-morning thing. She’d been aroused because…well, just because. Naturally they hadn’t made love, but she couldn’t help wondering what might have happened if the circumstances had been different.

Neither could she help wondering about Sunny’s mother. Had they been married? Was he divorced? Separated? Had she died? Was he still in love with her?

“Well,” she said decisively, having made up her mind to look on the practical side. It was a job, and she needed employment, even temporary employment, if she was ever going to get back to Oklahoma. “I guess it won’t hurt to delay my own plans for a few more days.”

They boarded some forty-five minutes later. The plane was filled to capacity, carry-on baggage limited to Jax’s briefcase and Sunny’s bulky diaper bag. They’d checked the carrier at the gate. The flight attendant promised milk and snacks the minute they reached cruising altitude and slipped Jax a package of pretzels for Sunny to chew on.

Lost in their own separate thoughts, neither spoke as the plane picked up speed down the runway. They lifted off, and Hetty closed her eyes, clinging to the armrests in a white-knuckled grip. Not until they were
in the air did she release the breath she’d been holding.

Moments later she felt two distinct thuds somewhere in the belly of the monstrous plane and fought panic all over again.

Jax covered her hand with one of his own. “Relax, it’s only the wheel flaps.”

“I knew that,” she said, trying hard to turn abject fear into a joking matter.

“Sure you did. It’s when it doesn’t happen that you start to worry.”

“Yes, well…I didn’t notice it when we left Oklahoma City, but that was back in the old days, when flying was still an adventure.”

He chuckled and settled Sunny more comfortably on his lap. He’d taken the window seat at Hetty’s insistence when she’d told him she’d rather not see how far off the ground she was. “As soon as the seat-belt light goes off, you might want to check out the john. I’ve heard there’s real soap there.”

“No shower?”

“Don’t be greedy.”

“Okay, I’ll go first and wash up, but if they start serving before I get back, grab me two of everything.”

“You got it.” His smile was tired, but warm. “Don’t know much about airline food, do you?”

“Enough to know it’s better than no food at all.”

She would like to believe there was more than amusement in his smile, but then, she’d read some
where that extreme hunger could make a person delusional.

The flight was surprisingly uneventful. “Those people across the aisle are sleeping,” Hetty murmured. “I don’t think I could ever be that blasé about sleeping in public.”

“I dunno, you did pretty well on the floor back at O’Hare.

“Only because I was exhausted and there was nowhere else.”

“Actually, there was a hotel, but by the time I could get a bid in, it was filled to capacity. We were probably better off where we were.”

“I couldn’t have done it alone. I mean, sleeping and all.” Her color had improved while she was devouring chicken à la airline. Now it flared up again. “You know what I mean,” she mumbled, embarrassed, and Jax assured her that he did.

He was still trying to convince himself that he wasn’t making a mistake. He’d used Sunny as an excuse, but his secretary could’ve arranged some interim solution. There were bonded temps for almost everything these days.

The practical side of his brain said it was a logical solution to both their problems.

Another side—the same one that had prompted him to buy the
Lizzie-Linda,
was whipping out warnings he was trying hard to ignore.

The plain truth was, he wanted her. Not the glamorous creature he’d mistaken her for at first, but the
unpretentious woman he’d discovered as he got to know her better.

Or maybe it was the combination that intrigued him. He had never before met a woman who was both naive and experienced. Who looked like a high-fashion model, but whose hands had obviously done their share of manual labor.

Hell, she’d even done Sunny’s laundry in the rest room. Washed her blankets and a couple of sleepers, scrubbing her knuckles raw to make up for the lack of soap.

He could almost see her as one of those pioneer women who plowed and planted alongside their husbands, who bore children and raised them and grew old well before their time. She might look frail, but hers was the strength of endurance.

God, he hoped he wasn’t making a mistake. He didn’t know where this thing was leading. He knew where he wanted it to lead, but the more he was tempted, the warier be became. Walking away from an affair with Hetty, if that’s where this ended up, would not be a simple matter.

Sunny was sleeping when they touched down and taxied up to the gate, her little belly filled with warm milk, scrambled eggs and biscotti. She continued to sleep while they waited until after the worst of the crush was past, then followed the last few straggling passengers. She was turning out to be a surprisingly hardy little sprout.

Jax left them at one of the ground transportation
exits while he went to collect his car. Now that her ordeal was nearing an end, Hetty was almost too exhausted to move, but Jax was counting on her to take care of Sunny, so she braced her shoulders and tried not to think about a long, hot soak and a soft, clean bed.

The Sunny-filled carrier was heavy, but Hetty didn’t dare set it down, not with so many people hurrying past. Poor mite was beginning to fuss again. Wet, probably. There’d been no room to change her on the plane, and no clean diapers. She suspected Jax was used to flying first class, where there was more room, but on this particular airline there was no first class.

“Here he comes, sweety pie,” she said, spotting the familiar dark head dodging buses, taxis and shuttles. “It won’t be long now.”

Jax took the carrier from her, tickled his daughter under the chin and said, “It won’t be long now, we’re in the home stretch.” He took Hetty’s arm, cautioned her to watch the curb, then his hand slid down, and he laced his fingers through hers, leading her to an elegant dark sedan.

Catching sight of an attractive woman staring at him with hungry, speculative eyes, Hetty felt a surge of possessive pride.

Talk about courting disaster.

The first few evening stars were visible when he pulled up in front of the hotel and handed his keys over to the valet. Calling ahead from his car, he had
booked a suite of rooms: two bedrooms, two baths, with a living room between. “I ordered a crib set up in your room, is that okay?”

“Certainly. That’s what I’m here for,” Hetty said quietly.

Jax was no longer quite so certain why she was here, but this was no time to delve into ulterior motives. Hers or his own.

The bellman let them into the suite, set down their luggage, which consisted only of a briefcase and diaper bag, then adjusted the heat, palmed a tip and left.

Jax loosened his necktie, which by now was beyond redemption. “I’ll keep watch here while you freshen up. Why not look over the menu first and tell me what you want. I’ll order us some supper.”

Hetty had already checked out the bathroom. “It’s going to take a long, hot soak to freshen me up. Half an hour, at least, but first I’d better see what I can do about Sunny. What do you think, a hand towel? It’ll be bulky, but at least it’s dry.” She lifted the drowsy baby from the carrier. “Come on, sugar-bun, let’s make you all comfy and then Poppa will go find you some milk, cereal and lots of nice, dry diapers.”

Jax opened the small refrigerator. He produced a bottle of orange juice and set it on the bar. “Poppa?” he repeated softly.

“She can’t quite manage
father
yet. Oh, good, she’ll love orange juice. Robert did.”

Jax had heard about all he cared to hear about her stepgrandson. To hear her tell it, Robert was practi
cally scholarship material before he was three months old.

But he didn’t say so, because he wasn’t churlish by nature, and because he didn’t like what it implied about his present state of mind.

Once she’d finished settling Sunny, he handed her a menu and watched while she read over the offerings, scanned them again, then mentioned the cheapest thing listed.

He called in the order, adding two appetizers, two desserts, a pot of coffee and a bottle of wine.

“Is half an hour too long?” she asked anxiously. “I could just shower.”

“Take all the time you need, this time of night, room service will be pretty slow.”

“I’ll make it quick, just in case.”

He’d ordered wine. Hetty didn’t drink beer, wine or anything stronger, not with her early introduction to alcoholism, but she didn’t make an issue of it. At the moment she lacked the energy to make an issue of anything.

Not until she lowered herself into the steaming tub of water did it strike her that sleeping with a stranger on the floor of a public building was one thing, but sharing a meal and a hotel suite with the same man was something altogether different. Especially now that she’d got to know the man behind those Hollywood handsome looks. She liked him. Not only was she wildly attracted to him, she genuinely liked him.