When Andie opened her door to Clay that night, her eyes were deep and serious. She wore neither lipstick nor a smile.

She stepped back to let him in. When he moved past her, he didn’t miss the care she took not to allow her body to touch his.

“You can hang your coat there.” She indicated a row of pegs by the door.

Clay hung his coat and followed her into her small living room.

“Can I get you something?”

“No, thanks.”

“Sit down.” She gestured at the couch.

He sat where she’d pointed. Andie perched on a chair several feet away.

Clay had his arguments all lined up in his head. But he could see she wanted to speak first. He allowed that.

“Clay, I…I’m sorry about the, um, harsh things I said this afternoon. I didn’t mean them. Not all of them, anyway. I don’t hate you. Not really.”

“I know that.”

She forced a weak smile. “It was just that you shocked me. That kiss. And then saying you wanted to marry me, out of nowhere like that.”

“I understand.”

One of her slim hands had found a loose thread on the chair arm. Clay watched as she tugged at it, then realized what she was doing and let the thread go.

She spoke again. “I’ve thought about what you said this afternoon. I really have.”

“And?” His stupid heart was in his throat. He swallowed it down.

“And, well, I really don’t see how it could work.”

Clay gave himself a moment to let her careful refusal sink in. He didn’t like it, didn’t like the way it made his chest feel tight and his stomach knot up. But it didn’t matter. She would marry him in the end. It was what he wanted and it was the right thing. Whatever it took, he would make it happen.

“Why not?” He was proud of how unconcerned he sounded.

She drew in a long breath. “Oh, Clay. Come on. It has to be obvious.”

“Fine. Then state the obvious. Please.”

“Well.” She gave a little nervous cough. “Okay. If you insist.”

“I do.”

“First, and most important, we aren’t in love.”

He looked at her for a long time. “Love.”

“Yes. Love.”

He considered for a moment, framing his argument. Then he spoke. “Of course there’s love between us, Andie. We’re family, you and me. We work together and we do it damn well. We can build a good life, help each other, be there for each other. And we can give your baby two parents to see it all the way to adulthood. That’s all the love there needs to be.”

Andie wasn’t convinced. “No, Clay. That’s not enough.”

“What else is there?”

She looked away, then back. “You know.”

“Tell me.”

“Fine. I will.” She pulled herself straighter in her chair. “There’s a special kind of love that should be there, between a man and a woman when they decide to marry. It’s not there with us. You say you love me. But you’re not in love with me. Are you?”

He tried to contain his impatience, but it was there in his voice when he spoke. “This is a word game, Andie. Nothing more.”

“It’s not. I want to be in love with the man I marry.”

“You’ll have love. The only kind that matters.”

“It’s not enough.”

There was a silence, a heated one. She watched him with grim hostility. And her breathing was agitated. Clay thought that he could make this a hell of a lot easier on both of them if he just got up and went over to her and pulled her into his arms. If he did it slowly, she might accept him.

Or he could give in and tell her in so many words that he was in love with her.

Why not, he thought? Why not just say the words she wanted to hear? He cared for her and was willing to do just about anything to see that she was safe and well provided for.

But somehow, those words just wouldn’t come. Because in the sense that she meant in love, he would be telling a bald-faced lie. There was simply no such thing as the love she thought she wanted. Love like that was just a pretty word for a natural biological urge.

“Clay, please understand.” Her soft voice tried to soothe him.

He only bristled more. “Understand what?”

“Don’t be angry.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh, Clay. If I could only make you see. I’ve made a lot of mistakes. I know I have. But I’ve also learned a lot. And I really believe that a very special kind of love is important, between a man and a woman, when they begin a life together.”

He decided to leave the issue of love alone for right then, since it seemed to be getting them nowhere. “Okay. And what else?”

“What do you mean?”

“What other issues and questions? What else is bothering you?”

“Well, I…I believe there should be honesty, Clay. That honesty between a man and a wife is second only to love.”

He regarded her coolly. “Honesty.”

“Clay, don’t—”

“You’re saying you don’t think we’re being honest with each other. Am I right?”

“Well, I…”

“Say what you mean to say, Andie. Who’s lying and what about?”

“It’s not a lie. Not really. It’s just…about the baby’s father.” She looked down at her lap and her misery was painful to see.

Clay felt a twinge of guilt again, as he did every time this subject came up around her. He knew the truth, after all. Her closely guarded secret, to him, was no secret at all. He reminded her, “The man is out of your life, isn’t he?”

“Yes.”

“And out of the baby’s life, too?”

“Yes.”

“How big is the chance that later, sometime in the future, he’ll change his mind?”

She gave him the answer he knew she would give. “Not big. Very small, actually.”

“Then why borrow trouble? I’m willing to accept your word about this. The baby will be our baby.”

Andie stared up at him, a strange expression on her face, hopeful and disbelieving at once. “You would do that? Claim the baby as yours?”

“Yes.”

She looked as though she might cry. “Oh, Clay.”

“So marry me.”

He waited, his heart in his throat. For a moment he actually thought he had convinced her.

But then she sighed and looked at her lap again. “No. I just can’t. I know you can’t understand that. But it’s the way it is. I can’t tell you about the baby’s father. And I could never marry a man who didn’t know the truth. To start out with something like that between us would doom it all right from the first.”

Clay studied her bent head. He thought of Jeff, who was dead to him now. And he thought of how he’d sworn to himself that Andie would never have to learn that he knew about Jeff.

He still saw no real reason to tell her the truth. Jeff was the past. And the past would fade to nothing in time. There was no point at all in dwelling on it, in bringing up all the pain and digging around in it for the sake of some noble concept like honesty.

What they needed to do was let it go. He saw that clearly. And she would see it soon enough, he was certain.

He stood. “Look. Andie.”

Her head shot up. She stared at him, her eyes wide and wary.

He took a step toward her.

She leaned back in her seat. “I don’t think you should…”

“What?”

“I, um…”

He stood over her. “Andie.” He reached down and took her hand. She let him do that, though her apprehension was plain in every line of her slender body.

He gave a tug. She slowly stood. He backed away a little, in order to give her just enough space that she wouldn’t feel she had to cut and run.

She swallowed. “What?”

He felt tenderly toward her suddenly. He knew what she was experiencing. Consciousness of him as a man.

It was a strange, disorienting feeling, he knew. They’d been certain things to each other for almost twenty years. But now they were finding that what they shared was like one of those drawings with an invisible figure hidden within it. You could look for years and never see the hidden figure, but once you saw it, you couldn’t unsee it. From that moment on, it would always be there.

Gently he whispered, “I won’t accept a no.”

Her expression became earnest. “You’ll have to. It’s the only answer, Clay. I’m sorry. Please understand. We have to go back to the way things were.”

He shook his head. “We can’t do that.”

“But we have to.”

“We can’t.”

“Why not?”

“If you insist on saying no, you’ll see why not.”

“I think we can.”

Because he couldn’t stop himself, he touched the side of her face with his hand. Her skin was like the petal of a rose. He wanted her mouth again, to taste her mouth.

“Please don’t, Clay.”

He dropped his hand. Then he turned away. He took the few steps to the sliding glass door that opened onto her minuscule patio. In the window glass, he saw his own shadowed reflection and that of the room behind him.

He was pushing too fast, he knew. He wanted things settled. And he wanted her. Soon.

She was over two months along. And he was greedy for her.

He knew it was crude and thoughtless of him to feel that way, and he certainly would never tell her that. But it was an imperative for him. He wanted to lay a real claim to her, and if they waited too long, the pregnancy could interfere. The thought of having to wait until after the baby came to make love to her set his nerves on edge.

Still, she was not going to tell him yes tonight—that much was painfully clear. He would do them both a service to back off for a while.

She needed to learn firsthand, from day-to-day experience, just what he meant when he said they couldn’t go back. Let them work side by side in the office for a few days with this new awareness between them. She’d see soon enough that unsatisfied desire could scrape her nerves raw.

He turned to face her. “Look. I guess there isn’t much more to say at this point. Let’s leave it for now. You know where I stand on this. I want to marry you. I think we’ll be good together as husband and wife. So you think about my offer.”

“Clay.” She made a small, frustrated sound. “I said no. I meant it. I’m not going to marry you.”

“Fine. But there’s no law that says you can’t change your mind.”

“I won’t change my mind.”

“We’re talking in circles here.”

“Because you won’t face the truth.” She was glaring at him now, her fists clenched in impotent anger at her sides.

He had the most ridiculous flash of memory at that moment. He saw her at twelve or thirteen, outraged at some imagined injustice he’d done her, her fists clenched at her sides and her face scrunched up in a glare, looking almost exactly as she did right now. Whatever they’d been fighting over, he remembered she’d ended up shouting at him. And he’d shouted right back.

It occurred to him right then that if he didn’t get out of there, they would end up yelling at each other like a couple of kids. Either that or he would drag her into his arms and shut her up by covering her mouth with his own. Neither option would be likely to further his case in the long run. He’d better get out of there.

He marched toward her. She cringed back, probably afraid he was going to grab her and do something unforgivable—like kiss her. He couldn’t resist tossing her a superior smirk as he strode right by her and out to the little cubicle where his coat was hanging. He grabbed the coat off the hook.

“Good night,” he called, triumphantly aloof as he went out the door.

 

Monday morning at the office, Clay was careful to be strictly professional. He was going to have to wait Andie out. And he was ready for that. They would go on as before, until she realized he was right: they couldn’t go on as before.

Andie saw his point right away.

But there was no way she was going to admit it to Clay.

And besides, it seemed that they should have been able to go on as before. Nothing, really, was any different than it had ever been.

And yet everything had changed in a thousand tiny, irrevocable ways.

Andie was so terribly aware of Clay now. And that new awareness affected everything. Clay’s mere presence in her place of business messed up her concentration. Even when he was down the hall with his door closed, her silly mind would wander to thoughts of him. All the time now, she’d find herself staring into space with a half-finished letter on the computer screen in front of her, listening with every fiber of her being for the sound of Clay’s door being pulled back, for the soft thud of his footfalls as he came out into the hall.

His voice set off alarms inside her. And the sight of him could make her weak.

Clay was a handsome man. She’d always known that. But to Andie, Clay’s good looks had been nothing but a fact, like his brown hair and green eyes, his high forehead and his straight nose. She’d never thought twice about them. Not even back in high school, when her girlfriends were always swooning over him.

“Sweet Mother Mary, Clay Barrett’s got everything,” her best friend Ruth Ann used to sigh. “He’s smart, he plays sports, and he’s got that dangerous look in his eye.” Ruth Ann would give a little shiver. “All that control. That’s the thing about Clay Barrett. Just the idea of breaking through all that control.”

Andie would groan. “Oh, please…”

“Plus he has A-1 fantabulous buns.”

“Pass the onion dip, will you?”

“How can you do that? Ask for the onion dip when we’re discussing Clay Barrett’s buns?”

“It’s easy. Pass the onion dip.”

“I don’t think you’re normal, Andrea McCreary.”

“I’m normal.” Andie had reached across her friend and scooped up the container of dip. “If you knew Clay like I know Clay, you wouldn’t give two bits for his buns.”

“Try me. I’d love to know him like you know him. And you’re not even really related to him, even though your mother and his mother are sisters. Mother Mary and Joseph, it’s the perfect setup. You go to his house for dinner practically every Sunday.”

Andie chose a big chip and plowed it through the gooey dip. “Every other Sunday.” She stuck the chip in her mouth.

“Oh. Right. And the rest of the Sundays, he goes to your house. How can you pass up a chance like that? You could be working your wiles on him.”

“My wiles?” Andie sneered, then chose another chip, shoveled on the dip and popped the delicious morsel into her mouth. “Um. Heaven.”

“Like I said, you’re not normal. You eat anything you want and stay disgustingly thin. And you don’t have a crush on your gorgeous cousin.”

“Look,” Andie had said around another mouthful of onion dip, “I don’t eat anything I want, believe me. Someday, when I get old, I’ll have to take better care of myself. And as far as Clay Barrett goes, it’s bad enough I had to grow up with him. God would not be that cruel to make me have a crush on him, too.”

Andie groaned when she thought of that long-ago conversation and all the others like it that she and Ruth Ann had shared.

Because all of a sudden, God was being that cruel.

And it got in the way of her performance at work, this unforeseen, impossible crush she was suffering from. She misplaced folders. She saved letters in the wrong files. She sometimes didn’t even hear the little buzzer over the door until the client was standing at the reception counter, clearing his or her throat and waiting for Andie to look up from her computer and notice that someone was there.

And Clay was distant. Distant and irritable. He acted like an adult version of the judgmental tyrant he used to be when they were kids. He watched her. He seemed to be thinking mean things about her. And he rarely cracked a smile.

By the time Andie finally escaped the office at the end of the day and went home, she was a wreck. It was as bad as it had been in January, when she’d realized she was pregnant and didn’t have the faintest idea what she was going to do about it. Every day was hell. But at least in January, Clay had been pleasant and reasonably kind while he watched her all the time.

Now, he remained completely detached. He wanted the work done and he wanted it done now and he had no time for a gentle word or a teasing compliment.

Andie remembered very well now why she’d detested him for all those years. He was absolutely heartless when thwarted. Sometimes, when he barked at her for misplacing a file or not getting a letter or a bill out on time, she wanted to just stand up from her computer and yell at him that he was the meanest man she’d ever met, that she hated him and she quit.

But she controlled herself. She remembered the baby. She remembered that there was someone else to think of now, not just herself. She could ride this out. She knew she could.

However, by Thursday night, just five nights after Clay had insisted she marry him, Andie was so depressed that she wondered how she was going to go on. Ruth Ann called to see how she was doing at a little after eight.

“What is the matter?” Ruth Ann demanded immediately.

“Nothing.”

“Right. I’ll be right over.”

“Ruth Ann, really, it’s not—” But the dial tone was already buzzing in her ear. Ruth Ann had hung up.

The doorbell rang ten minutes later. When Andie opened it, her friend was grinning on the other side.

But then Ruth Ann frowned. “Saint Teresa, what happened? You looked great, and now you look like somebody killed your cat again.”

“Thanks.”

Ruth Ann stepped inside the door, kicked it closed with her foot and leaned back against it. “Johnny’s watching the kids.”

“That was nice of him.”

“He said to take as long as I wanted. Who woulda thought it, huh? Meadow Valley High’s most incorrigible bad actor now deserves a medal as a husband and a daddy.” She held up a brown bag. “I come bearing ice cream. Peanut butter caramel mocha fudge. It has to be a sin, right?”

“I’m just not hungry.”

“Something is definitely wrong.” Ruth Ann grabbed Andie’s arm, pulled her into the kitchen and dished out the ice cream into bowls. Then she sat opposite Andie and commanded, “There. Eat. And tell Ruth Ann all about it.”

And Andie did. Ruth Ann listened the way Ruth Ann always listened, with absolute attention, her pointed chin thrust forward, her eyes bright and alert. When Andie was done, Ruth Ann relaxed a little. She took a big bite of ice cream.

“Well?” Andie asked, when Ruth Ann had swallowed and started to take another bite without saying anything.

“Well, what?” Ruth Ann savored that other bite.

“Well, now that you’ve heard it, what do you think?”

Ruth Ann clinked her spoon on the edge of her bowl. “You don’t want to hear what I think.”

“Yes, I do. Tell me.”

Ruth Ann set down her spoon. “Do what he wants. Marry him.”

“What?”

“You heard me. He won’t give up. You know how he is. And you’ve admitted you’ve finally seen the light about him.”

“What light?”

“That he’s sexy, you idiot. That he turns you on. I always told you—”

“Spare me. Please.”

“You want him. Admit it.”

“You’re beginning to sound a lot like him, Ruth Ann.”

“Sometimes the truth is painful to deal with, from any source.”

“Ruth Ann. His best friend was the father of my baby. He doesn’t know that. I want a real marriage, if I ever have one. A marriage like you’ve got. Based on love and trust. I can’t marry a man who doesn’t already know and accept the truth about my baby.”

“Fine. So tell him the truth.”

“You are kidding.”

“No. The way it looks from my chair, you don’t have a lot of options. How long do you think you’re gonna last, working for him every day and having this unsettled thing between you? It’s only been, what? Four days, and you look almost as bad as you did before you told him you were pregnant and got that out of the way. You should either quit your job—not a terrific choice, I gotta admit, at this point in your life—or tell him what you’re afraid to tell him and then wing it from there. You’re in deadlock right now, kiddo. It’s an ugly place to be.”

“But it will hurt him, if I tell him. It will hurt him so badly.”

“For a woman who can’t stand that man, you sure are worried about how bad you’re gonna hurt him.”

“I never said I couldn’t stand him.”

“For all the years while we were growing up, that’s all you said.”

“That was then. Things change.”

“Oh, really? And anyway, you should have thought of all this before you spent the night with that Jeff character.”

Andie looked down at her bowl of melting ice cream. There was nothing to say to that. Ruth Ann was right.

“Didn’t I warn you that you’d end up in trouble with some smooth-talkin’ out-of-town guy? You were always too picky, you didn’t get yourself any experience and then—”

Andie’s head shot up. “Look who’s talking. You were a virgin on your wedding night—we both know it.”

“I was eighteen on my wedding night and a good Catholic girl. I had a right to be a virgin.”

Andie looked down at the table again. “This is a stupid argument. I did what I did. And now I have to deal with the consequences.”

Ruth Ann was quiet, then she made a soothing sound. “Well, you’re right. You’re doing the best you can. I’m sorry if I’m too rough on you.”

Andie sighed. “I just don’t know what to do. If Clay finds out, he’ll kill Jeff.”

“It’s a thought. I could kill him myself, actually.”

“Oh, stop it. I was as much at fault for what happened as Jeff was.”

“Fine. I still hate the jerk’s guts. Want more ice cream?”

“No, thanks.”

“I believe I will have just one more little scoop.” Ruth Ann went to the refrigerator and dished herself out another bowlful. “Well, like I said, your options are limited. And you can’t control what Clay will do.” Ruth Ann closed the carton and put it away. “You sure you can’t live with just marrying him and not telling him?” She licked the serving spoon, considering. “I mean, after all, things really are finito between you and the best friend. It’s not like you’re pining away for him or anything.”

Andie looked at her friend in blank disbelief. “Oh, that’s a great idea. And then what will I do when Clay and I are married and the baby’s been born and Clay wants us to fly down to Los Angeles and visit his best pal, Jeff?”

“Yuck.” Ruth Ann set the serving spoon in the sink and began eating from her bowl. “You’re right. Not good. Maybe looking for another job is the only real choice, after all.”

Andie leaned her chin on her hand. She felt so tired. The last thing she wanted to do was go looking for another place to work. But if she was going to have to do it, she should do it right away. She wasn’t showing yet, but she would be soon enough. Who would hire a woman who’d be needing maternity leave right away? She’d probably end up working a series of temp jobs for less pay and no benefits, at least until she’d had the baby and was back on her feet again.

And speaking of benefits, what about her insurance? Could she keep it if she left Barrett & Co.? And if she did, how much would it end up costing her a month? She should look into that. Given that she managed to find another job, any insurance she got from it wouldn’t go into effect for a while. And then it probably wouldn’t cover her having the baby.

Which would mean the family would end up stepping in to take up the slack. She didn’t want them to do that. She didn’t want them to end up picking up the tab for a choice that was all her own. She didn’t want to burden them, and she didn’t want to watch them all shake their heads knowingly and whisper that they’d seen this coming all along.

She wanted them to admire her the way they admired Clay. So that her child could be proud of her. So that her child could look at her with confidence and feel safe and protected, the way Andie had been safe and protected while she was growing up.

Oh, it was all just a nightmare. A nightmare, any way she turned.

Everything had been all worked out. Things were going just great.

And then Clay had to go and decide to marry her. And her whole fragile little life was turned upside down all over again.

Andie thought of her savings account, which had been growing steadily the past couple of years. With the money Jeff had sent and the bonus from Clay, she now had very close to twelve thousand dollars. She’d been saving for a house of her own, but of course now that would have to be put off.

Oh, she had been such a foolish dreamer of a girl. She’d wasted too many years, drifting, not applying herself. Having fun.

She hadn’t earned the grades in high school to get into a really good college. Yet she hadn’t minded, really. Life was easy and every day held something to delight her. In summer, there were trips to the river with her friends and waterskiing at the local reservoir. And in winter, there was snowmobiling and cross-country skiing and warm fires waiting when she came in from the snow. She’d found a job as a waitress that paid well enough. And she’d enjoyed herself thoroughly.

By the time she began to think she should do something with her life, she was in her twenties. She’d buckled down then, going to junior college and then to a business school.

Then Uncle Don’s longtime office manager had decided to retire. Uncle Don had offered Andie the job. Andie had hesitated at first. She knew that someday Clay would return and the old animosity between them might ruin things. But Uncle Don had offered to pay her very well. The benefits were great, too. And Clay wasn’t going to come home for years, anyway. So Andie had stepped in, surprising everyone with her efficiency and her willingness to work. She’d loved the job, especially after the old office manager left and she could run things all on her own.

Then Uncle Don had suffered his heart attack. Clay had come back ahead of schedule.

Those first months with Clay as her boss had been a rough time for Andie. She’d known she would have to prove herself all over again to him. And she’d done it. Clay had discovered how good she was, in spite of his prejudices against her.

But deep down, she’d resented having to prove her competence to the rival of her teenage years. And maybe what had happened on New Year’s Eve was partly because of that. Because her feelings had grown so tangled since Clay had come home. Because all of her accomplishments the past few years were minor compared to his. Because every time she looked at him, she felt edgy and unhappy and unsatisfied with herself. And yet she hadn’t been able to let her feelings out. To do that might have cost her her job.

“Come on,” Ruth Ann suggested, cutting through Andie’s unhappy thoughts, “let’s see if there’s a decent tearjerker on cable.”

“Oh, Ruthie. Watching a movie is not going to solve my problem.”

“No, but your problem is not going to be solved tonight, anyway. So you might as well try to forget it for an hour or two. Come on. A little oblivion is good for a person.”

“Oh, Ruthie…”

“Come on.” Ruth Ann grabbed Andie’s hand and pulled her to her feet. “Get in there and find the viewer’s guide. I’ll make the popcorn.”

Since tearjerkers turned out to be in short supply, they watched The Terminator. Ruth Ann sat on one end of the couch, squealing between handfuls of popcorn, as Arnold Schwarzenegger cut a swathe through Los Angeles.

Andie sat quietly, hardly aware of what she was watching. By the time the terminator entered the police station and announced, “I’ll be back,” Andie had made a decision.

She would talk to Clay tomorrow and tell him she was going to be leaving her job.