Always on My Mind (5 page)

Of all the times for her wildest dreams to walk through the door, fate had her hunched over, waves of pain suffocating her, immobilizing her.

In fact, she could barely see straight.

Another contraction swept through Raina, and she crumpled at the end of her bed, onto her knees, breathing through it
 
—or trying to.

She might be levitating from the pain.

Then, just like that, the fist released and left her sweaty and gasping on all fours in the middle of her bedroom.

Yeah, that was pretty. She felt like a beached whale, awkward
and cumbersome. She collapsed onto the floor on her side, willing it all to go away.

Willing Casper to go away. She glanced through her half-closed eyes to where he stood in the hallway, starting at his tanned bare feet, fresh off the beach, and working her way up.

Oh, he couldn’t see her like this. Not when he stood there dressed like the free-spirited renegade she’d fallen for, his body bronzed and fit, those blue eyes on her, tearing her apart. One glance at him and it all came back
 
—their summer romance and the fact that she’d fallen so hard it took her breath away.

And his words through the door
 
—hauntingly sweet, sad, and wanting to . . . what? Whatever the reason he’d returned, seeing her had to knock it out of him.

For her part, she’d heard his voice, and suddenly the contractions she’d ignored most of the morning roared to life.

“Raina, c’mon, you have to get up.” Grace’s voice slid through her despair.

“No.”

“You can’t deliver your baby on your bedroom floor. We have to go.”

No.

“Raina,” Casper said softly. His voice still had the power to stir hope and a sweet, forbidden heat inside her. A low tenor, solid, capable. The man who’d made her feel
 
—what seemed so long ago
 
—cherished.

Or at least not alone.

She heard him kneel next to her, smelled him
 
—distinctly male, the saline hint of the sea on his skin. He put his hand on her arm. “Let’s go.”

No. She couldn’t bear it
 
—the thought of him touching her,
seeing her with stringy hair, soiled and fat, coiled in pain. She jerked her arm back. “Go away, Casper.”

The words burned through her, but she swallowed any attempt to soften them, opened her eyes, and steeled herself against the sight of him.

If anything, up close he’d only managed to become more devastatingly handsome, with a ragged beard and his chocolate-brown hair curling out the back of a red bandanna.

He frowned, his sea-blue eyes filled with a concern that could make her weep, especially when he reached out for her again. “Let me help you up.”

She shook her head, pushed up from the floor. “No. Please, Casper, leave me alone.”

The next contraction rolled over her, and her body betrayed her. She whimpered, collapsing back to the floor.

“Hardly. Grace, get me a blanket. Raina, relax. You have to breathe. The baby needs air. Breathe.”

She’d breathe as soon as her body decided not to turn inside out.

By the time the contraction released, she was crying. She barely noticed as Casper draped a blanket over her.

“It wasn’t this bad before,” she gasped.

“Before?” Casper said.

“She went into preterm labor a couple weeks ago. She’s been on bed rest ever since,” Grace said as if Raina couldn’t speak for herself. Or maybe she couldn’t because another contraction gripped her, and this time she felt her entire body begin to shift as if the baby had moved inside her.

“I think we’re running out of time,” Raina said when it ended. She opened her eyes and found Grace. “Okay, let’s go.”

She was shaking, however, and groaned. Probably that was all Casper needed because suddenly he slid his arms under her and picked her up.

As if she weren’t the size of a small Volkswagen.

And Raina, thanks to her pitiful state, uttered barely a protest. He curled her to his chest as Grace tucked the blanket in around her.

Oh, she’d forgotten the heady sense of being in his arms, the solid planes of his chest, the cotton and surf smell of him, the way he could make her believe she was safe. She hated herself a little when she reached up, grabbed a handful of his sweatshirt. “Please don’t drop me.”

He gave her a look then, his expression so pained or perhaps horrified that she had to close her eyes. “Never.”

He carried her from the apartment into the elevator, Grace trotting behind with Raina’s bag.

“Your car or mine?” Casper said.

“Mine,” Grace said. “I’ll drive; you hold Raina.”

Raina didn’t argue. A contraction hit, and she clung to Casper, this time trying to relax, grateful for his grip on her.

“Breathe, Raina. Just in and out.” He demonstrated as if he’d taken the preparing-for-childbirth classes with her.

For a second, regret filled her throat. What if he had? What if she’d told him about the baby instead of pushing him out of her life?

Except, well, the baby wasn’t his, was it?

She closed her eyes and breathed.

When they got to the car, he lifted her into the backseat, climbing in beside her. Grace added the bag to the trunk of her Altima and then ducked into the front.

“Don’t have this baby in my car,” Grace said as she pulled out.

Raina tried to laugh, but the entire thing seemed so wretched that she could only offer a sad rumble.

Casper tucked her sweaty hair behind her ear, and she looked at him, her lip caught in her teeth.

His eyes were wet. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“What exactly could I have said that would have made any of this okay?”

He glanced away, a tear hanging off his chin.

“I . . . I didn’t mean for this to happen. I wish
 
—”

“I know.” He looked at her then, a softness in his eyes. “I know.”

She couldn’t bear it, even as the next contraction rose through her. “You shouldn’t be here. I . . . You shouldn’t have come back.”

And then, as Grace drove toward Methodist Hospital, she focused her breathing, concentrating through the pain.
Don’t have the baby in the car.

They drove up to the emergency entrance, and Casper got out, went hunting for a wheelchair. He returned with wheels and a nurse.

He lifted Raina from the car and set her in the chair as Grace pulled away to park. The nurse wheeled Raina into the emergency room bay with Casper jogging to keep up. He helped as Raina levered herself onto a gurney.

He reached for her hand, but she pulled it away. “I meant it, Casper. You shouldn’t be here. I’m not your problem
 
—”

He stared at her as if she’d slapped him. “Problem
 
—what are you talking about?”

The nurse began to take her vitals, checking her pulse. “The on-call OB is on her way. Do you have a particular doctor you see?”

Raina gave her the name, then leaned back into the pillows, breathing hard.

Somewhere in that time, Casper had taken her hand. When the contraction released, she let go and noticed him rubbing his fingers.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. You’re always stepping in, trying to fix things. But you can’t fix this, Casper. You can’t fix . . .
me
.”

He frowned and she blamed her hormones, her pain, for the sudden flux of anger. “Don’t look at me like that. I know you, and you can’t stand to fail, to see someone you care about hurt. Sometimes you just have to walk away, Casper, and let people deal with the choices they’ve made.”

“Raina, I’m not walking away from you. Not again. I get
 
—I really get
 
—why you didn’t want to tell me about this. But the fact is, you can’t do this by yourself. You’re having a baby!”

“Yeah. Owen’s baby! Have you not figured that part out yet?”

He closed his mouth, and a muscle pulled in his jaw. So maybe he had. He took a breath, ran his hand behind his neck. Swallowed. “Does he know?”

She looked away as the OB doctor came in.

“Miss Beaumont. So lovely to see you again. And this time nearly full-term.”

“I did my best,” Raina said, another contraction coming on.

“You did great. And is this the lucky father?” She turned to Casper. “Dr. Natasha Mortensen.”

Casper’s eyes widened. He stared at the doctor’s outstretched hand. Took a long, shaky breath.

Right then Raina got the answer to the question she feared asking.

He might have been thinking about her, might have even gotten on an airplane to see her again, but Casper Christiansen had no desire to step in and claim this child as his.

Nor should he.

Because then things would really get complicated.

“No, he’s not the father,” Raina said, her voice sharp. “The father isn’t in the picture and never will be.”

Casper frowned, a darkness in his expression.

“Okay then,” Dr. Mortensen said after a moment. She reached for some gloves. “Raina, do you want him to stay?”

He looked at her, and she’d have to have been blind not to see the words written on his face.

She closed her eyes. “No.”

Dr. Mortensen turned to him. “I’ll ask you to step out while I check to see how far along we are in labor.”

Casper seemed not to get it for a moment.

“Casper, leave,” Raina said. “And don’t come back. I got this.”

His eyes narrowed. “Fine. Have it your way.” He shoved his hands into his cargo shorts and stalked away, down the hall, out of the ER.

Out of her life.

Right where he belonged.

Dr. Mortensen stepped up to the gurney. “Ready to have this baby?”

C
ASPER NEEDED TO FOLLOW
his own advice to Raina
 
—
breathe
.

He just needed to step out of this moment, calm his heartbeat, and figure out how to fix this.

He paced into the waiting area, headed over to the window, and stared at the grimy parking lot. Snow sifted from the gunmetal sky, a wispy layer of white over the black-edged snowbanks.

So Raina was having a baby. It didn’t have to change
 
—

He drew in a breath, the truth like a knife. Owen would always be lurking on the sidelines, poised to show up, to be a father to his child. Which would leave Casper where, exactly? The favorite uncle?

Except Raina’s words kept pinging through his head.
The father isn’t in the picture and never will be.

What did that mean?

“Casper.”

He turned at Grace’s voice. She’d emerged from Raina’s exam room, holding a bag filled with her clothing. “We’re heading up to delivery. She’s ready to give birth.”

Already? “I’ll meet you there.”

Grace held up her hand. “She doesn’t want you there.”

“I’m not going to be in the room, Grace. I’ll just wait. Make sure she’s okay.”

Her expression of compassion only made it worse. “I’m so sorry you had to find out this way, Casper.”

“She should have told me.” He knew his words didn’t make sense, heard the arguments ringing in the back of his head. But he couldn’t help the steel taste of betrayal that lined his throat.

“Maybe. But it wasn’t really any of your business. For the record, I argued with her
 
—told her to tell you. To tell the rest of our family, but she swore me to secrecy. You can’t imagine . . .”

“Grace
 
—wait. She said that . . . that Owen isn’t going to be in the baby’s life. What did she mean? Was he a jerk about it?”

Grace sighed. “It was her business
 
—her choice. I begged her to tell him, but
 
—”

Her words hit him quick, sharp. “Are you telling me that she never told him?”

“It’s not like Owen would have stepped up.”

“He might have!”

“He’s not you, Casper.” She shook her head. Drew in a long breath. “Listen, I know you care about her, but you left, remember?”

His mouth tightened at that. “Yeah, I remember. But now I’m back.”

She headed over to the elevator and punched the button. He followed.

“Seriously, Casper
 
—”

“I’ll leave once I know everything is okay.”

Her face softened. “Okay. I’ll come out as soon as the baby is born.”

They got onto the elevator. He stood there, watching the floors light up. Then asked, “Did you know she was pregnant before I left?”

Grace sighed. Nodded.

“And you let me go.”

“I thought it would be best. She didn’t want you to know, and you needed to get her out of your system.”

He had no words for that, seeing Grace stand in the crossroads between her friend and her brother. When the doors opened, he headed over to the waiting room. Marmalade orange– and coffee brown–patterned sofas lined the walls, the wooden tables covered with
Parent Today
magazines. A couple in their midsixties sat vigil on the sofa, watching
Jeopardy!

“I gotta go, Casper. I’m her delivery coach. I called Max to come and get you. He’ll take you back to my place to pick up your car.”

“Tell Raina . . .” Except his words died there. Tell her what?

Grace gave him a soft look. “I know. I’m so sorry.” Then she disappeared behind the swinging door.

He stood there, an interloper, sure that the eyes of the elderly couple hung on him.

He found a chair in the corner and sat, tucking his hands between his knees, suddenly cold.

And hungry.

And foolish.

He leaned back, pulled up the hood on his sweatshirt, tried not
to look like the guy who’d flown two thousand miles for a woman who didn’t want him.

He closed his eyes and wasn’t sure how much time passed before Grace’s fiancé gave him a nudge with his foot.

Max took up a little too much space in the room, looking every inch like the superstar hockey player he was with his long brown hair, a scruff of beard, leather jacket, black jeans. “Hey, Casper.”

Casper got up, met Max’s hand. “Thanks for the ride.”

Max gave him a wry smile. “Not the best way to find out about Raina, huh?”

Casper shoved his hands into his shorts pockets. “Yeah. That’s what I get for not calling ahead. I thought I’d surprise her. Whoa, surprise!”

Max didn’t laugh at his caustic humor, his expression solemn. “Dude, what is it about this girl?”

Casper’s sarcasm died and he sighed, ran his thumb and finger against his tired eyes. “I don’t know. I ran away, trying to forget her, but I can’t seem to get her off my mind. Apparently I needed a taste of cold reality . . . except . . .” He shook his head. “I’m such a fool. I’m still thinking . . . she needs someone, and what if that someone was me? I love kids, and
 
—no. That whole idea is stupid.”

Thankfully Max didn’t have a moment to confirm his words before Grace came through the door, grinning.

“Max!” She flung her arms around her fiancé, and he kissed her, so much love in his expression when he let her go and smiled at her that it sent a pang through Casper.

“So?” Max said.

“It’s a girl. Beautiful. Dark hair, blue eyes
 
—adorable.”

“How’s Raina?” Casper asked.

“Tired, but okay.” Grace grabbed Max’s hand, looked at Casper. “Want to see the baby?”

“Really? It’s okay with Raina?”

She nodded. He braced himself to hold back from the crazy plan forming in his head. But what if he let Raina recuperate, come home, settle in with the baby? What if he convinced her to give him a chance to prove himself
 
—that maybe, in time, he could get past this? They could build a future together
 
—Raina, the baby, him . . .

He refused to call himself foolish, to admit he hadn’t really thought it out, and went right to . . . hopeful.

Grace led them down to the nursery, away from the delivery room. She stopped at the large window and pointed at a bundle swaddled in a pink blanket. “That’s her. Number four.”

An unfamiliar warmth curled through Casper at the sight of the fattened baby face, the cherub lips, the dark hair twining out the top of the bundle. A perfect replica of her beautiful mother. He pressed his hand to the glass, his chest on fire. “She’s amazing. What’s her name?”

Max had stepped up, wrapped his arms around Grace, his lips against her hair. Inside the nursery, an infant began to wail.

Grace sighed. “I don’t know. Raina is going to let her parents name her.”

Casper stilled. “What are you talking about?”

Grace gave him a sad smile. “This is the last time we’ll ever see her. I already called the agency. Raina’s giving up her baby for adoption.”

“What?”

“Casper, please. I’ve talked to her until I’m wrung out about this. I thought, with her living with me, she’d see it would be okay,
that Mom and Dad would be thrilled despite the circumstances, but she can’t see that far. She’s convinced herself that the baby would be better off with different parents and . . . I don’t know. Maybe she’s right. She believes she’s all alone, despite what I tell her. You have to agree, it’s for the best
 
—”

But his body turned to ice. “Have you
lost your min
d
? No. I don’t have to agree.” The words began exploding through him, even as he looked back at the infant
 
—his niece. His parents’
granddaughter
. Owen’s child. “I don’t agree
at all
. Grace, what are you thinking? Owen doesn’t even know he’s a father. And Mom and Dad
 
—you’re going to steal their grandchild from them?”

Grace’s eyes had filled. “You forget it’s not my decision. It’s Raina’s.”

Raina’s.

Casper turned and headed down the hallway.

“Casper!”

But he didn’t stop, just headed to the nurses’ station and inquired after Raina’s room number.

Grace hadn’t caught up to him before he found Raina’s room. He took a breath even as he heard feet racing toward him, then knocked.

Max had him by the arm when Raina said, “Come in.”

He shook Max away, but Grace’s voice slowed him just a step. “Casper, consider Raina’s position.”

“I’ve had enough of considering Raina’s position. She can’t do this to our family.” He shoved into the room.

He didn’t mean for his voice to sound so dark, so raw and angry, but he didn’t amend his words when he saw Raina looking drawn and fragile in the bed. She wore a white bathrobe, the covers over her body, and sipped a drink from a hospital cup.

Okay, it did sucker punch him, just a little. A fragment of the heat left him, softened the sharp edges of his thoughts. Still, he marched up to her bed. “You can’t give up this baby, Raina.”

“Sorry, Raina; he just came in
 
—”

Raina held up her hand to Grace, her dark eyes on Casper. He knew that look. It had accompanied the few times she’d shoved him out of her life. She folded her hands over her body. “I can, and I am.”

“And what about Owen?” His voice shook, but he lowered it.

“What about Owen? He has no interest whatsoever in this child
 
—or me, for that matter,” Raina said.

“That’s not true. You just have to give him a chance.”

“To what
 
—make a bigger mess out of this? I don’t love Owen, and he doesn’t love me. We aren’t going to get married and live happily ever after, Casper.” A tear snuck out, trailed down her cheek.

He watched it, fighting the urge to care. Clearly he didn’t know this woman at all. “Maybe not, but the fact is, you can’t ignore all the people you are hurting. My parents, Owen
 
—”

“And none of them are going to raise this child. None of them can give this baby
 
—my baby
 
—the home she deserves.” Her voice shook now, her breath fast. “I have nothing to offer her. I don’t even have a place to live. I’m . . .” She swallowed, looking out the window, another tear slipping off her chin. “I’m not ready to be a mother. This is the right thing to do.”

“No
 
—”

But Grace’s hand on his arm stopped him. “Casper. It’s not our decision.”

Raina didn’t look at him.

“It should be,” Casper said quietly. He stepped away from
Grace, toward Raina, his voice steel. “You can’t just erase what happened, Raina. You have a baby
 
—a baby who will be loved by my family. But once you sign the papers, it’s done, and you can’t go back.” He ran a hand over his mouth, realizing for the first time that his face was wet. “Please don’t do this. You’re not alone. You have us, and God will help
 
—”

Her face turned dark. “God will help me?” She gave a sharp, brutal laugh. “That’s rich. Casper, here’s truth for you. God doesn’t love everybody, despite what Sunday school says. Sure, He loves people like you and Grace, who grew up in a home with two parents. He probably even loves Owen, despite his sins. But God
 
—no, He doesn’t love me. God doesn’t even notice me. I am
nothing
to Him. So don’t start preaching to me about how God is on my side and will make things all better. That fairy tale is long over.”

He stood, stunned. Had nothing but, “Then consider this. You will always regret this decision.”

“The only thing I’ll regret is letting you for an instant back into my life. Go away, Casper. You can’t fix this. No one can, not even
God
. So just . . . please, leave me alone. Go back to finding lost treasures and forget about me.”

He stared at her, the way her jaw tightened, the flash of chill in her eyes, and for the final time realized that, yes, she was right.

There would be no second chances for them.

“You got it, honey.” He turned and shoved past Grace and Max, out into the hall.

There he punched the elevator button and waited for Max to arrive. They got in together, Max stony.

When the doors opened to the lobby, Casper marched out. He didn’t stop in the entryway but charged right into the night, where
the frigid air turned his bare skin to ice. He lifted his eyes to the stars, then closed them.

And stood there, letting the cold turn him numb.