Meant-to-Be Baby Page 2

  “He must be the guy your aunts expect,” Jake said.

  “Now that you mention it, I do remember hearing about a visitor arriving. But I didn’t pay much attention.” Because morning sickness was hitting her hard these days.

  Assured Jake was coming, Victoria ended the call, attached her scarf to the bough of a needleless tamarack tree and then half slid, half climbed back down to Mikey. “Still warm enough?”

  “Yeah. But I’m thirsty.” He looked around. “Can I eat the snow?”

  “No!” Realizing she’d scared him, Victoria made a funny face. But she had to ensure he wouldn’t try it because eating snow would lower his body temperature. “This snow isn’t clean, Mikey. My friend will bring you something warm to drink.”

  “Hot choc’lat?” he asked hopefully.

  “Maybe.” She crouched down to peer into his eyes. “Can you stay here a little longer while I check if Uncle Ben needs anything?”

  Clearly thrilled by the promise of a drink, Mikey flicked on the flashlight and nodded. Victoria navigated down the cliff face again, grimacing at the protest in her calves.

  “You’re not as fit as you think, girl,” she muttered in disgust.

  “Yes, you are.” Ben held the car door open. His blue eyes surveyed her with—admiration? “If I’d climbed up and down that steep slope as many times as you, my knees would be rubber.”

  “With your military training? I doubt it.” Victoria smiled at the surprise filling his face and thrust out a hand. “Pleased to meet you. Major Adams, I presume?”

  “You know me?” Ben asked. She liked his firm grip. Many men shook her hand as if they were holding a wet fish.

  “The aunts mentioned that one of their military correspondents, a major, was coming to visit, but I doubt they expected you or Mikey during this storm.” The roar of a snowmobile engine cut through the whine of wind. “That’ll be Jake.” She turned away. “I’ll be back.”

  “Victoria?”

  “Yes?” She glanced back at Ben.

  “Is Mikey okay?” A tenderness lay behind the words. Ben got high marks from her for worrying about his nephew.

  “He’s got the dogs locked in a death stare. He ate a granola bar and he’s thirsty. Other than that, he’s doing fine.” She took another step before adding, “You’re fortunate this storm didn’t arrive with some really frigid weather, Major.”

  Through the crackle of bushes and the approaching snowmobile, she thought she heard him mutter, “Fortunate? Me? Yeah, sure I am.”

  A sigh followed, making her wonder exactly what Ben meant.

  *

  “Dear Major, are you sure you’re all right? Shouldn’t you be in bed, resting?”

  Though his arm throbbed something fierce, his midsection smarted and his ankle stung, Ben forced a smile at the elderly woman.

  “I’m fine, Miss Spenser. Er, Tillie,” he quickly corrected, using the name she’d requested. “I’m sorry to be a bother.”

  “We’re delighted to have you and Mikey visit The Haven.” Margaret Spenser was a doppelgänger for her twin sister in everything but demeanor. Where Tillie reminded Ben of a graceful Southern belle, Margaret bustled to fulfill some unspoken agenda. “God has certainly supplied your medical needs. Victoria’s bandages look most effective.”

  “Yes, they are.” He glanced from the sling holding his arm to his chest to the petite beauty sitting across from him. A straight fall of almost-black hair lovingly cupped Victoria’s sculpted ivory face as she sat in a wingback chair with Mikey cuddled beside her. At the moment, she was studying him with her inscrutable gray eyes. Ben looked back at Margaret. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “You are more than welcome, dear. It’s a good thing you knew how to get our computer to scoop so Victoria could contact the doctor,” Tillie said.

  “Skype,” he corrected, quickly realizing this lady neither knew nor cared about computers.

  “Yes, it’s called Skype, sister. Anyway, it’s too bad we can’t get you into Chokecherry Hollow, Ben. But at least Doc was able, with Victoria’s help, to ascertain that your injuries aren’t severe. Now, please excuse us while we go assist the other girls with dinner. Mikey, come and help us.” Margaret lifted a hand when Victoria shifted as if to rise. “You stay here and entertain our guest, dear.”

  Ben didn’t understand Victoria’s frown nor the odd way she studied her aunts’ retreating figures, Mikey between them. “Is something the matter?” he asked politely.

  “I’m not sure.” Victoria refocused on him. “But they have that look.”

  “What look?” Confused, Ben tried to recall something in the ladies’ manner. “I didn’t—”

  “No, you wouldn’t have.” She gave him a strangled smile. “What brings you to The Haven, Ben?”

  “Um,” he blinked at the sudden switch in conversation. But there was no point in prevaricating. “I’m a peacekeeper with the United Nations in Central Africa. I became part of The Spenser sisters’ campaign to write to soldiers when Tillie’s first letter arrived about seven months ago. In every letter since, she invited me to The Haven. So I came. I’m hoping she can give me some advice. About Mikey.”

  “What kind of advice, if you don’t mind me asking?” Victoria leaned forward in her chair, gray eyes widening with curiosity. She had the lush, long lashes his sister-in-law, Alice, had craved.

  Alice and Neil. Gone. Ben’s stomach clenched as grief billowed inside him. Only through sheer force of habit honed by peacekeeping could he maintain an implacable expression.

  “Are you all right, Major?” Victoria had the kind of voice that revealed what she was thinking. Right now it said she knew he was hiding something and was offering to share his burden. For a moment, Ben was tempted.

  But a second look made him doubt the elegant Victoria, with her stylish red turtleneck, chic red leather booties and probably designer jeans, had ever messed up her life. She wouldn’t understand.

  “Ben?” Worry now threaded her musical tone. “Doc Mendel said your pain might increase as the shock wears off. Do you have pain?”

  Tons, but most isn’t from wrecking the car.

  He exhaled. Get it said, man.

  “I’m on leave. I was visiting Mikey and his parents, my brother and sister-in-law. They were killed in a home invasion just over two months ago, while Mikey and I were at the zoo.”

  “Oh, no,” Victoria gasped and immediately her almond-shaped eyes glossed with tears. “I’m so sorry. Poor you. Poor Mikey.”

  “Thanks. Anyway, now I’m his guardian and his godparent.” Would she understand that he had to do the honorable thing for his nephew? “Before I return to my job overseas, I need to find Mikey a family he can live with, parents who will lovingly raise him. I have to make sure he’s safe.”

  Silence yawned. Victoria stiffened. After a very long time, she whispered, “You can’t raise him?”

  Ben shook his head.

  “Because?” She frowned, her wide, full lips tipping down in dismay.

  “I’m nobody’s idea of a parent, Victoria,” he said when he could no longer remain silent. “I always fail at responsibility. Look at what happened today.”

  “That was an accident,” she defended. “Not poor parenting.”

  “No, I should have waited a day. But I’m desperate to figure out a solution. I wanted to get here and talk to Tillie. I thought I could outrun the storm.” Ben’s lips tightened. “That’s proof I’m not who Mikey needs.”

  “What does a—what is Mikey—four? What does a four-year-old need?” She lifted her slim hand and ticked off her fingers. “Love, safety, security, a home. You can’t give your nephew that?”

  It was a question without innuendo, and yet Ben felt her condemnation to the depth of his soul. But doubts about his parenting ability weren’t easy to purge.

  “I don’t think I can. Not properly. Taking care of Mikey is a matter of principle for me. Mikey comes first. Having a soldier for a parent is hardly what a young
kid needs.” Ben made a face. “And I do have to work.”

  “You can’t find another way?” Victoria made a face. “Not that it’s any of my business.”

  “It’s okay,” he sighed. “Believe me, I’ve tried. But I can’t think of how.”

  “I see.” She leaned back in her chair, her oval face disapproving. It was clear to Ben that she didn’t see at all.

  “I can’t compromise about this, Victoria. Neil wouldn’t want me to. He’d expect me to do my best for Mikey.” A fierce protectiveness swelled inside. “I have to ensure that he’s safe and cared for.”

  “Good.” Was that relief on her face? Did she think he didn’t care about his own nephew?

  “Mikey’s parents were committed to building their home and a happy family. I have neither to offer. Besides,” he blurted, desperate to erase the fear growing inside, the worry that whatever he decided, he would make a mistake that would hurt his brother’s precious son. “I’m not good with responsibility.”

  “Ben, you’re a peacekeeper.” Incredulity filled her voice.

  “That’s a job. I’ve been trained to follow orders but someone else makes the decisions. It isn’t the same.” Her face told him he needed to explain. “My mom was sick when I was a kid, Victoria. My dad, well, he wasn’t around much so I was left to raise my brother. Neil was six years younger than me and we had opposite temperaments. I tried my best but—” It hurt to admit it aloud. “I didn’t do right by him. I didn’t know how. And because I failed him, he got into a lot of trouble.”

  “Neil blamed you?” Her dark eyebrows rose.

  “No.” Ben shook his head. “I blamed me. For not keeping him out of trouble. For not saving him from the whole gang-drug-jail trip. He finally broke free, no thanks to me, but in the end, his past and my failures caught up to him.” How he hated saying this. “The police believe the people who murdered Alice and Neil were cronies from my brother’s drug days, that they wanted money from him to score another hit.”

  “Oh, no.” She looked as sad as he felt.

  “Yeah. Neil started doing drugs because I demanded too much from him, so that makes his and Alice’s deaths my fault.” Ben almost gagged at the weight of that responsibility. “I might make the same mistake with Mikey and I can’t risk that.”

  “You’re not going to,” Victoria shot back. “You’re no longer some young, abandoned kid who’s doing the best he can. You’re an adult. Mikey started life with a stable family, parents who loved him. That’s a whole different situation from Neil’s. And now Mikey has you.”

  “No, he doesn’t, because he can’t depend on me.” Ben glanced around the old-fashioned room as the knot inside him grew. “I’m not his father. I don’t have the same knowledge, goals and experiences Neil would have passed on to Mikey. I have no idea how to be the kind of parent Mikey needs. I don’t know anything about fatherhood.”

  “Fathers become fathers by learning.” Victoria shrugged. “You can do the same.”

  “How? In furloughs? When I’m home for a couple months here and there? I can be sent anywhere at any time, into the worst hot spots. What if I was injured, or even killed?” He shook his head. “Mikey needs stable, full-time secure parents, here, in Canada.”

  Ben knew from the way Victoria’s gray eyes turned to ice that she didn’t agree. That’s when he realized that Victoria, adamant in her principles, probably wasn’t going to support his request to her aunts. Fortunately she didn’t have a chance to voice the disapproval currently darkening her eyes because Tillie called them to the table.

  With a sigh, Ben forced his focus off his rescuer and rose, gripping the handmade crutch Jake had made. He hobbled to the kitchen table, smothering a moan as his whole body protested. To his chagrin, Victoria’s sisters and the two elderly ladies were already seated, leaving only two chairs unoccupied. When he sat beside Victoria, his arm brushed hers, creating a zip of electricity that made him even more tensely aware of her.

  Everyone bowed their head as Margaret said grace. Once conversation flowed around them again Victoria leaned toward him.

  “It won’t make you less of a soldier to swallow a second painkiller, Major,” she whispered. She poured him a glass of water then nodded at a small white pill sitting next to his knife.

  Ben craved relief from the twinges that plagued him so he swallowed the tablet, hoping it wouldn’t totally dull his senses because he had a hunch he was going to need his wits about him where this strong woman was concerned.

  And yet, there was something else about Victoria—a vulnerability? Silly to say that about a woman who scaled mountains and rescued people. Yet Ben glimpsed a certain wistfulness in the tender brush of her hand against Mikey’s head and the gentle way she teased him. Both belied a soft heart underneath the tough exterior she projected. He liked her pluck.

  But Ben wasn’t looking for a relationship. In fact, he never wanted to get involved, never wanted the obligation of caring for and probably failing a wife and family. He didn’t want the responsibility of wrecking another young life. That’s why he had to figure out Mikey’s situation. His nephew’s future was too precious to ruin, as he’d ruined Neil’s.

  As he ate, Ben struggled to stifle his growing interest in Victoria Archer. Maybe he didn’t want to be, but he was very interested in this competent woman and why she’d been so insistent that Ben be Mikey’s father.

  He also wondered how long she’d be staying here, at The Haven, in the middle of nowhere. She was young, obviously hip and unmarried, judging by her bare ring finger. Her affection for the elderly sisters was obvious, her manner with them protective.

  Though she seemed at home here at The Haven, Ben didn’t get the feeling that Victoria lived here full-time. Or hadn’t until recently. Comments from her sisters and her aunts about finally coming home made him want to know more about her.

  When Mikey burst out bawling because the apple crisp dessert reminded him of his mom, Victoria didn’t try to change the subject or avoid the topic. Instead she wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders and encouraged more memories. Within minutes, she had his nephew giggling as she tried to demonstrate his description of butterfly kisses.

  Suddenly Ben hoped it would take Tillie and Margaret a while to find Mikey a family, long enough for him to figure out what made Victoria’s gray eyes turn to soot when she didn’t think anyone was watching.

  Chapter Two

  “Oh. You’re still up.”

  Victoria paused in the doorway of the biggest room at The Haven, which was also the only one with a lit fireplace. Tillie and Margaret called this room The Salon but she’d always known it as their family room, the place where they’d shared their lives. Now it was occupied by their visitor.

  “Couldn’t sleep. Probably because I ate too much of your sister’s delicious chicken pie.” Firelight flickered across Ben, seated in Margaret’s wingback chair in front of the fire, with Tillie’s lurid purple-and-green afghan covering his legs. “What’s that?”

  “Hot chocolate. Want some?” Victoria didn’t want to share with him. In fact, she wished he’d stayed in his room. She wanted to be alone, to think things through, to figure out her next step. But she couldn’t think with Ben nearby because his searching blue eyes made her nervous, fidgety.

  Still, he was a guest and the aunts’ lessons on hospitality had been deeply engrained in her.

  “I’ll get another cup.”

  “Don’t bother,” he called as Victoria scurried away like the frightened mouse she felt but didn’t want anyone to see.

  She drew a deep breath for control, patted her unsettled stomach, wondering if morning sickness could also be evening sickness and if its cause now was that her baby knew his mother didn’t have a job now, or even a next step planned. Grimacing, she grabbed another mug and returned.

  “No bother. There’s more in that carafe than I can drink anyway.” She filled his mug and set it on the round table, near his elbow. She added another log to the fire befo
re sinking into Tillie’s chair and cuddling her own cup while her brain scrambled for a topic of conversation. Ben beat her to it.

  “Are there a lot of fireplaces in this house?” His gaze slid from the river-stone chimney to the massive fir mantel and granite-slab hearth.

  “Yes. The Haven was built to be self-sufficient. Thankfully there’s enough deadwood on the property to fuel the fireplaces.” She loved this sagging, worn chair, not for the comfort it offered but for the memories it evoked. “Tom and Jerry were very smart men.”

  “Tom and Jerry being?” Ben studied her, one eyebrow arched in an inquisitive expression.

  “How long has Aunt Tillie been writing you?” Victoria couldn’t believe he hadn’t heard the whole story already.

  “Just over seven months. Why?”

  “My aunts started writing letters to military personnel more than twenty years ago when they joined the local Legion. A former colonel suggested those who protect and serve our country might need someone to talk to and since the aunts missed their missionary work, they wrote.” Victoria smiled at the memories of all the service men and women who’d visited The Haven during her teen years. Could she give her child such good memories?

  “That’s a lot of letters,” Ben murmured.

  “After a couple of years, the aunts developed a format. They usually give some personal history within the first two or three letters. Did they do that with you?” When he shook his head, she inhaled before explaining. “So how did you make contact with Aunt Tillie?”

  “She wrote to me, said she was praying for Africa and my name was on the list of servicemen serving there. She asked if I had any special requests. Some of my buddies said I should write back.” Ben smiled. “Tillie was the one who led me to God. So what’s the history of The Haven?”

  “That’s a long story. It starts with brothers, Tom and Jerry Havenston, hence The Haven. Tillie and Margaret were nurses and met the two when they were visiting Chokecherry Hollow. The aunts fell in love with the brothers. The four wanted to be married, but the ladies had already promised to go as missionaries to what was then Rhodesia.”