Baby on the Way Read online

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Excerpt

  Books by Lois Richer

  About the Author

  Title Page

  Epigraph

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Dear Reader

  Copyright

  “This baby’s lucky to have you

  for a mom. But children need

  families. Friends. Uncles.”

  Jordan smiled, hoping she’d take the hint.

  Caitlin didn’t say anything—just sat there, peering at him, thinking it all over. Jordan knew she would need time to adapt. He was more than willing to give it to her if it meant she would allow him back into her life.

  The rest could wait. They had time. Please God, give her time to accept me.

  He wanted her to trust him. He wanted to be there for her, to share part of the burden. And he wanted to go back to a time when he should have grabbed at the adoration she’d so innocently offered.

  Watch for the next book in the

  BRIDES OF THE SEASONS

  series, available in October.

  Books by Lois Richer

  Love Inspired

  A Will and a Wedding #8

  †Faithfully Yours #15

  †A Hopeful Heart #23

  †Sweet Charity #32

  A Home, a Heart, a Husband #50

  This Child of Mine #59

  *Baby on the Way #73

  † Faith, Hope & Charity

  *Brides of the Seasons

  LOIS RICHER

  credits her love of writing to a childhood spent in a Sunday school where the King James version of the Bible was taught The majesty and clarity of the language in the Old Testament stories allowed her to create pictures in her own mind while growing up in a tiny Canadian prairie village where everyone strove to make ends meet. During her school years, she continued to find great solace in those words and in the church family that supported her in local speech festivals, Christmas concerts and little theater productions. Later, in college, her ability with language stood her in good stead as she majored in linguistics, studied the work of William Shakespeare and participated in a small drama group.

  Today Lois lives in another tiny Canadian town with her husband, Barry, and two very vocal sons. And still her belief in a strong, vibrant God who cares more than we know predominates her life. “My writing,” she says, “allows me to express just a few of the words God sends bubbling around in my brain. If I convey some of the wonder and amazement I feel when I think of God and His love, I’ve used my words to good effect.”

  Baby on the Way

  Lois Richer

  People are not cast off by the Lord forever. Though

  He brings grief, He will show compassion, so great

  is His unfailing love.

  —Lamentations 3:31-32

  For Robynne Rogers-Healey, Ph.D.

  You make me laugh, and cry, shake my head and

  nod in agreement, but always, always, I appreciate

  what a gold mine of blessing you are to my spirit.

  Thanks for being the one I can run to, whine beside,

  cry on, tease, giggle over and drink gallons of

  coffee with no matter how far away we live or

  how many changes God sends into our lives.

  You are my friend.

  I love you.

  Chapter One

  “It must be terribly difficult for poor Caitlin without her husband. And her being eight months pregnant.” The whispered remark of the nurse carried clearly into the hallway.

  Caitlin Andrews lifted her face as she slipped around the side of the receptionist’s desk and into the foyer, refusing to acknowledge the commiserating look she knew she’d see on the nurses’ faces. Pity was the one emotion she couldn’t afford right now. She tugged her coat from the rack and slung it over her shoulders before walking outside.

  I’ll manage, she decided fiercely, braving the gusting wind. She lifted her chin, allowing the watery afternoon sun to warm her. I always have.

  Of course pregnancy would be infinitely more enjoyable with a husband in the picture. She’d never even considered life as a widow, and certainly not before she’d welcomed her first child into the world. This was not part of her plan.

  “Unfortunately, my plans don’t count for much,” Caitlin Andrews acknowledged tiredly, thoroughly out of sorts after an hour spent in the doctor’s office where she’d watched the scale move further upward.

  She crossed the street and moved toward the nearby coffee shop. Pushing the door open, she breathed in the wonderful aroma of freshly brewed coffee.

  “You and I are just going to have to make do with what we’ve got, Junior.” The baby kicked her in the ribs to indicate his feelings in the matter.

  “And may I remind you that we’ve only got each other?”

  He thumped again, hard and strong. She smiled at the strength of that jab.

  The restaurant was filled with people and Caitlin had to wait a few minutes for a place to sit. Finally a mother and her two small children got up and went outside while the father paid the bill.

  A family, whole and complete. The picture emphasized her own lonely state and Caitlin made herself look away.

  Just get yourself into the booth. Smile. Take off your coat. Pretend everything’s fine. Be strong.

  “Hi, sweetie. Still growing I see.” The teasing waitress winked and plopped down Caitlin’s usual order of a pot of tea and a fat bran muffin.

  “Hi, Ruth.” Caitlin dipped the tea bag into the water, her voice low and controlled. “You’re not going to lecture about eating for two again, are you?”

  Caitlin had walked miles along the riverbank and faithfully counted every calorie that passed her lips for the past six months. And for all her efforts she’d just increased another two pounds! That wasn’t in the plan, either.

  “Weight up? It’s only natural when…well, you know!” Ruth held out another bran muffin, her smile wicked.

  “That is not funny!” Caitlin looked at the friendly woman. “And you should know that someone in my condition is not to be trifled with.”

  Ruth’s hearty chuckle ignored Caitlin’s chiding look.

  “Someone in your condition shouldn’t be out in this weather,” she advised lightly. Her long vivid fingernails tapped the table. “Don’t you know there’s a storm warning out for tonight? Snow and blowing snow.”

  “It’s only the first of October, Ruth. Winter can’t come yet.” Caitlin smiled placidly, well used to the vagaries of Minnesota weather. “It’s just a threat weathermen use to warn us of what’s to come. The sun’s still shining.”

  “If that isn’t positive thinking, I don’t know what is. Honey, you just keep that chin up. You’re going to need it.” Shaking her head, Ruth glanced down pityingly. “Drink your tea, Mrs. Andrews. You’ll feel better.”

  “I hate tea.” Caitlin made a face at the white china pot. “Coffee is the beverage for any hour of the day or night,” she informed the older woman, noting the sparkle of amusement in Ruth’s laughing eyes.

  “I’ve heard. In fact, I think it was the last time you were here. Unfortunately for you,” the waitress eyed her protruding stomach, “Andrews Junior doesn’t like the stuff. So you get tea.”

  “I know,” Caitlin said. “And w
hat Junior wants, Junior gets. This kid is going to be a real tyrant.”

  The waitress, a slim, youthful mother of five chuckled and turned away to take another order. Caitlin poured out a cup of the steaming liquid, allowing the fresh clean scent of peppermint to soothe her jangled nerves.

  For the umpteenth time that day she wished Michael were here to talk to, to lean against, to hold her. And for the umpteenth time she told herself to get on with her life. Michael wasn’t ever going to be there anymore. He was dead. There were only her and the baby now.

  “Lyn?”

  Caitlin was so engrossed in her thoughts of the past that she jumped in surprise. Only one person used that shortened version of her name.

  “Jordan.” She peered up through her lashes, hoping she was wrong.

  Oh no, she groaned. Not now. Not today!

  “Caitlin. I thought it was you. Your hair is different.”

  Her brother-in-law’s voice boomed in that deep bass tone she could have recognized from several blocks away. She knew the sound well, heard it in her dreams sometimes. She’d never been able to forget Jordan.

  His curious glance moved from her face to the obvious mound of her stomach. She watched his gold eyes widen in surprise.

  “Uh, that is, oh.” The craggy face, so unlike Michael’s, drooped in shock.

  She smiled. “Yes, oh. A master of understatement as usual, Jordan.”

  Not now, she begged silently to the God she hadn’t prayed to since that awful night seven months ago.

  Please don’t do this to me now. Not while my emotions are doing these ridiculous prenatal flip-flops. Not when I’ve almost made it through this on my own. Not now, when I’d almost convinced myself that I don’t need Michael’s family.

  She opened her eyes but Jordan was still standing there, gawking at her.

  “How are you?” Caitlin couldn’t help but ask, despite the lump in her throat. Her question was polite, perfunctory, that of one stranger to another.

  He didn’t pretend civility. Instead he folded his muscle-honed body onto the bench seat opposite hers. As he leaned forward, his face mere inches from her own, she caught a whiff of his tangy lime-scented aftershave.

  “I’m just absolutely fantastic now that I know I’m going to be an uncle, Lyn.” His tanned face clenched in a rigid mask, his words icy chips of mockery.

  The sting of his glittering eyes ate at her, cutting through her carefully preserved mask of control. Hadn’t it always been that way? Hadn’t Jordan always cut right to the heart of things?

  “Good grief, Lyn, why didn’t you tell me? Or Mom and Dad? Someone!”

  She watched as he visibly fought to control his temper and that irritated her.

  “You weren’t here, remember? And your parents have been away on that trip to Europe for the past three months. Remember?”

  Caitlin swallowed. He wasn’t buying it. Jordan mad was infinitely worse than Jordan bossy.

  “What about before they left? Why couldn’t you have told my parents you were expecting Michael’s baby then?” A muscle twitched at the corner of his mouth, testament to his anger. “It would have meant the world to them.”

  “I had to get used to the idea first myself. I wasn’t exactly expecting it, you know.” She glared at him. “By then they were planning their trip to get away, to try to put Michael’s loss behind them. It just wasn’t the right time.” Caitlin flushed.

  He would put her in the wrong. It was just like old times, she fumed. Unbidden, Jordan’s scathing remarks about her elopement with Michael flew across her brain. She should have known better, waited a while, stopped to think.

  Caitlin had felt like a helpless ninny then, worried that Jordan would think she was marrying Michael on the rebound from him. Stupidly she’d kept quiet, waited for Michael to take charge of the situation, needing his protection against Jordan’s pushiness.

  Now she was alone. And she was in charge.

  “Eventually they will know,” she explained, easing her aching back against the seat. “Now that they’re back, I’ll tell them soon.”

  She shrugged, striving for nonchalance. Jordan Andrews prided himself on his ability to look inside people. It was a trait most folks didn’t expect to find in a man obsessed with the intricacies of high-tech computer systems.

  “When?”

  “This is my situation to deal with, Jordan. Mine. I’ll handle it in my own way.”

  He watched her. Caitlin knew those assessing, calculating eyes could see clear through to the fear that filled her soul. Fear that he’d see how scared she was, fear that he’d seen how easy it would be to give up her staunch determination to manage her life alone.

  “It’s still the same old story, isn’t it, Lyn? You’re determined not to let anyone past those steel bars and into your heart.”

  “Hardly anything that melodramatic, Jordan.” She forced a note of calm reason into her voice. If he couldn’t be mature about the past, she would.

  “I simply felt there was no need to worry your mother and father ahead of time. I’ve spoken with them once or twice, of course, but I didn’t want to disturb them, especially when they were still mourning Michael.”

  She flushed under his condemning look, her chin thrust out defiantly. “I never meant to not tell them!’

  “Yeah, right.” The exasperation in his voice mocked her. “And when is the blessed event? By the looks of you, it can’t be long now.”

  Jordan had always been able to get to her weakest spot without really trying. Just a few well-chosen words and Michael’s brother could score a direct hit on her most vulnerable area. Right now that happened to be her shape, or rather, the lack of it.

  He was the quintessential male, always right, always in control. Once she’d loved that about him, that calm assuredness, that certainty, as if he knew exactly what he was doing with his life. Once she’d thought Jordan would be the man she would marry.

  Once she’d been stupid, childish, trusting and he’d pushed her away like an annoying pest.

  Well, she wasn’t buying into his world again. She was an adult now, in charge of her own life. Not some insecure young girl to be manipulated by the crazy dreams and impossible wishes she’d held ten years ago.

  Caitlin couldn’t afford to live in make-believe any more. Happily ever after was a nice dream, but it wasn’t very realistic. Not for her. She’d figured that out after Michael died.

  She reined in her fluctuating emotions with an effort, trying to remember her positive self-talk. It would be a relief if she could vent this building frustration, but this wasn’t the time or the place. She decided to try a different tactic, turn the tables on him, smother him with kindness.

  “Thank you, Jordan,” she offered sweetly. “I feel fine.”

  He grinned unrepentantly, the light of understanding dawning. Caitlin had to admit, he wasn’t slow on the uptake. Never had been.

  “You’re worried about your looks?” He crowed with uncanny perception. “You were beautiful before. Pregnant, you’re the most gorgeous woman in the place. You should know that by now.”

  A little bubble of mirth tickled inside her at his familiar phrasing. Caitlin shrugged. She had never been able to stay mad at Jordan for long. Perhaps he hadn’t forgiven her for marrying Michael, but at least he was willing to put it behind them. For now.

  “Look, Jordan, I’ve had a lot to deal with. And time sort of slipped away.”

  His stare was relentless. Caitlin knew she’d have to elaborate but opening up her heart wasn’t easy.

  “I’m an adult, Jordan. I am capable of running my own life. And that means without your interference. I’m not trying to keep your parents away. They’re the baby’s grandparents, they deserve to know.” She swallowed the lump of fear that clogged her throat and continued, trying to explain why this was so important.

  “When I tell your mother and father about this child, it will be because I want them to be happy and share it with me, so we can remember Michael
together.” Using her eyes, she implored him to, just this once, understand.

  “I didn’t want them to come racing home, cancel their plans, just to worry. I don’t want them to hang around just because they think I can’t handle having a baby on my own. I don’t want them to think that because I was married to Michael, they have to stand in for him.” She sipped her tea. “They have their own lives to lead. I’m perfectly capable of managing my life without anyone’s interference.”

  It was a long speech and Caitlin wasn’t sure even now that it made a lot of sense to him. It was hard to explain that she just knew she was supposed to do this on her own. It was her job. That’s why God always took away the people she loved. So she would be strong.

  “Lyn, I wasn’t trying to interfere. I was just surprised.” He looked up at her sheepishly. “Okay…and angry.”

  She stared him down.

  “All right! And upset.” He still sounded mad as he cleared his throat. “I had hoped…” his voice died away. “Never mind. I just thought that this one time you might accept some help,” he muttered, staring at his hands.

  Caitlin frowned at him. “Next time, please wait until I ask for help.”

  “Which you never will,” he grumbled, echoing her inmost thoughts. It was proof positive that Jordan knew far too much about the way her mind worked.

  “I am going to do this my way, Jordan. In my own time, depending on myself.” Her eyes held his as she reiterated her plan of action in the back of her mind. “It’s just the way it has to be.”

  “No, it isn’t the way it has to be at all.” His accusing stare glowed hot behind the round lenses of his wire-rimmed glasses. “It’s the way you want it. It’s the way you think your life has to be. Fine. Be alone. Refuse to accept anyone’s help. But just remember one thing.”

  “And what is that?” She didn’t have to ask. She knew what he’d say even before he said the words.