SOMEBODY'S BABY Page 3

  Katie refused to release his arm. "Go, Daddy," she repeated. "Go Sach."

  "We can't, Katie." He gently freed himself and returned to the workbench. As he reached for the sandpaper once again, the wooden animals he'd made months ago came flying out of the playpen as she unleashed a full-force temper tantrum. That must be another thing she'd inherited from her mother, he thought, steadfastly ignoring her cries. He had never been that angry in his life—not when his father had died, not when his mother had remarried and left him to run the farm alone, not even when he'd realized that Sarah was giving him Katie, like an unwanted souvenir from their weekend together.

  Katie realized that the kicking and screaming were getting her nowhere, and she collapsed onto the quilt that covered the bottom of the pen, totally silent. She was rewarded by a quick furtive glance from her father, which she responded to with a big smile.

  "You're a brat, Katie Ann Ryan."

  She didn't understand the insult, but she knew the loving voice. "Eat."

  "No, baby, it's not lunchtime yet."

  "Katie!" she insisted.

  He gave a shake of his head. For eight months she had been satisfied with being called 'baby,' until she had learned her name. 'Baby' was a fine name to call other things, in her opinion, but not her. Was Sarah also stubborn and opinionated? he wondered idly, then pushed all thought of her away once more. "It's not lunchtime, Katie. Settle down."

  She obeyed him for all of five seconds before issuing her next command. "Drink."

  "No," he replied sharply, once again turning his back on her. Days like this made a housekeeper sound even better than usual. If someone could keep Katie out of his hair for six hours a day, he could more than double his output here. Of course, quality was far more important than quantity. People didn't pay the prices that his handmade furniture commanded because it was readily available. They paid for the wood, the workmanship, the fine attention to detail that had earned him a reputation as a master craftsman in a part of the country where craftsmen abounded. Still, it would be nice to work a little more steadily, without constant interruptions from a bored, restless little girl.

  Once again he sneaked a look at her. She was lying on her back on the quilt, her fingers wrapped around one chubby bare foot, murmuring quietly to herself. He started to smile until he understood the word she was repeating over and over and over. No. The one word he had hoped sincerely that, with her temper and obstinacy, she wouldn't learn.

  Maybe seeing Zachary wasn't such a bad idea after all, he decided with a scowl. Katie wasn't the only one who was restless. The trip into town would keep her amused, and Daniel could tell Zachary that Sarah Lawson was here. Muttering to himself, he laid the chair leg aside once again and went to the playpen, offering his hands to Katie. "You win, sweetheart. Let's go see Zach."

  Still lying on her back, she solemnly gazed up at him, then replied, very slowly and distinctly, "No."

  "Come on, Katie."

  "No."

  He bent to pick her up, but she wriggled away, shrieking, "No!"

  She liked her new word, liked the way it made him react. Daniel could see it in the gleam in her dark blue eyes. He forcefully picked her up, holding her squirming little body tightly. He turned off the lights and shut the door, then started across the yard with the steady chant of "No, no, no!" shrill in his ears.

  Yes, he was definitely going to see about a housekeeper.

  Sarah sat in her car, staring at the building in front of her. Made of native stone, it was two stories high and bore the date of construction above the door. Nineteen eighteen—the year World War I had ended, her schoolteacher's mind supplied, but they hadn't called it that then. How could they have known then that another great war would follow?

  She was procrastinating. The longer she sat here wondering about meaningless things, the longer she could delay the meeting with Zachary Adams.

  Beth had advised her not to come here. After all, Adams was Daniel's attorney. It wasn't proper for her to approach him. Wait until next week, Beth had said, and she would come to Sweetwater and talk to Daniel Ryan and Zachary Adams herself. It would be better that way, Sarah admitted. Daniel couldn't possibly dislike Beth as much as he disliked her, and Beth knew legalese and would be able to carry on a conversation with Adams. But she had already waited eleven months and one day. She couldn't wait another week.

  The sign painted on the door glass wasn't fancy: Zachary Adams, Attorney. There were no hours listed, but in a town like Sweetwater, if someone needed to see Adams and didn't catch him in his office, he would know where the lawyer lived, would probably have his home phone number, would know his habits. It was one of the benefits of living in such a small community.

  She pushed the door open and was greeted by a young woman at the desk. "Can I help you?" the secretary asked.

  "I'd like to see Mr. Adams."

  "He's not in right now. He and Mayor Nelson went fishing out at the sheriff's place. He should show up in about fifteen minutes, depending on whether or not they're catching anything. Would you like to wait?"

  Fishing. It brought her a grim smile. She'd gotten her courage up to talk to Daniel Ryan's lawyer, and he was out fishing.

  "Yes, please," she replied, turning toward the row of chairs against one wall. There were errands she could run while she was in town, but if she left the office without seeing Adams, she wouldn't find the nerve to come back. She wasn't good at confrontations, at making threats—she didn't even want to make threats—but that was why she was here. All she wanted was to see her baby. Was that such a terrible thing to ask?

  She sat on the edge of a worn leather chair, her hands folded tightly on her lap, and looked around. The office was comfortable, the furnishings old and inviting. It was a sharp contrast to Beth's ultra modern office in a Nashville high rise, and she had to admit she liked it better. But how, she wondered, could a town as quiet and small as Sweetwater support an attorney? And if Zachary Adams was a good lawyer, why didn't he go to the city, where he could probably earn ten times what he made here and still take mornings off to go fishing?

  The secretary was reading a magazine, but she looked up occasionally, curiously. Finally she put the magazine away and turned her attention to Sarah. "Would you like a Coke or something?"

  Sarah politely shook her head.

  "My name is Alicia. Zach's my big brother."

  At least that explained how Adams, whose business couldn't possibly be booming, could afford a secretary. Sarah had been told that there were advantages to having family. She had just never seen them for herself.

  Although she knew she was being rude, she didn't offer her own name. It was on the document that Beth had drawn up for Daniel to sign, and there was bound to be a copy of it in Adams's files. She didn't want to see curiosity or, worse, derision in the friendly blue eyes. A man could lose interest in his marriage and family and leave his kids behind without support or money or love and still be considered a good man. But a woman who could give up her own child, no matter what the reason, was unnatural, was shunned and scorned. She had received more than her share of scorn from people in Nashville who knew about Tony. These strangers who knew nothing about the past three years of her life would be no different.

  That was part of the reason behind her decision to say nothing about Tony. She knew the question would eventually be asked, if not by Daniel, then by his attorney or someone else. Why did you give away your baby? She would answer it—but on her own terms. She wouldn't rely on the details of her son's short sad life to make her own life easier.

  "Are you new in town?" Alicia asked even though the answer was obvious. She had lived here all her life, knew everyone who lived within twenty miles of Sweetwater.

  "Yes," Sarah replied.

  "Really? Where are you—"

  The question was interrupted by the arrival of a man—Zachary Adams, Sarah guessed, judging by the casual clothes he wore and the fishing rod in one hand. He smiled rather vaguely at her before
turning to his sister. "Dinner at Mom's at six-thirty," he said with a charming grin.

  "Oh, no," Alicia groaned. "I hate fish!"

  "Too bad, sweetheart, because we caught a mess of them."

  "Couldn't you put some of them back?"

  "Afraid not." He balanced the fishing pole in the corner, then turned toward Sarah. "I'm Zachary Adams. Are you waiting to see me?"

  Nodding, she rose to her feet, and he invited her into his office, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. He sat on the desk itself, his feet dangling. "What can I do for you?"

  He was younger than she'd expected—her own age or a few years older—blond haired, blue eyed, tanned and incredibly handsome. How had Beth managed not to mention that to her last year? she wondered, then grimly answered the question. Because she hadn't been in any condition at the time to care about Daniel Ryan's good-looking attorney. She hadn't been in any condition to care about anything but Tony and Katherine.

  He was waiting for her to speak, and she did so as soon as she was seated. "My name is Sarah Lawson."

  She saw that the name meant something to him. He slid slowly from the desktop, his smile fading, and went behind it to sit. There he was all business. "Miss Lawson … you're early."

  She smiled humorlessly. "That was Daniel's response, too."

  "You've seen him and Katie?" he asked hastily.

  "Just him. He wouldn't let me see Katherine. That's why I'm here."

  Her use of Katie's full name was enough to tell him that she hadn't yet seen her daughter. No one could look at that sweet little devil and call her Katherine. It was too refined, too demure. "Miss Lawson," he began, trying to be tactful, "Daniel has custody of Katie for another month. Until then … he doesn't have to let you see her."

  "I know that. I'm not asking to take her back early. I promised him a year, and he'll have it. I just want to see her … for a few hours … please."

  The sheen in her eyes made Zachary uncomfortable. He toyed with a pen, twisting it in circles on his desk pad, watching it spin. "Miss Lawson…" He sighed helplessly and put the pen away, forcing himself to look at her. "What do you want from me?"

  "I want to see my baby."

  "That's entirely up to Daniel."

  She clenched her hands tightly together. "My lawyer says … she says that I can sue and terminate the agreement."

  Slowly Zachary shook his head. "But she doesn't recommend it, does she?" He remembered Beth Gibson well, knew that she was a beautiful woman and, more importantly, a damn fine lawyer. "If you and Daniel went to court today, I can all but guarantee that you would lose." He said it as gently as he could, but it was true. An unmarried mother who had willingly given her child wouldn't gain much sympathy in this part of the state, where old-fashioned values were still in style. Add the fact that Daniel Ryan was a respected member of the community who had taken in the child without hesitation, who obviously loved Katie and could support her, and Sarah Lawson faced a very difficult battle.

  Her eyes when she looked at him were soft and dark with pain. "But don't you see? As long as he keeps my baby from me, I've lost anyway." She raised a slim hand to dry her cheeks. "Talk to him … please. Ask him … tell him…" Her voice faded.

  Again Zachary shook his head. "No matter how much you want to see Katie, Miss Lawson, it's still Daniel's choice. I can't influence him on that."

  "You can advise him."

  He leaned back in his chair, crossing one ankle over the opposite knee, and idly traced his finger along the sole of his tennis shoe. "If Daniel asked for my advice on this matter," he said slowly, "I don't know what I'd tell him. I don't know if I could, in good conscience, recommend that he let you see Katie yet."

  Sarah stiffened in her chair. "But she's my daughter."

  "Yes, she is, and Daniel has custody of her for one more month." He started to end the conversation there, but added one more thing. "If you feel it's necessary to try to terminate the agreement, keep one thing in mind. I'll represent Daniel, and Ms. Gibson will represent you, and the court will appoint someone to represent Katie, because it's her best interests that are in question here. In the beginning, the judge will grant temporary custody to either you or Daniel, and Katie will stay with that parent until the suit is settled. If it's you, fine—you'll have your daughter. But if it's Daniel, Katie is going to live with him until the case is settled, which could take months, Miss Lawson. And it's a good bet that the judge would choose to leave her in the home that she knows with the parent that she knows. You could delay her return by two to four months, maybe even longer. Is it worth the risk?"

  No, of course not. Sarah sat motionless, staring at his desk. Beth had warned her, had told her to stay away from Zachary Adams, from Daniel Ryan and the whole damn town of Sweetwater for thirty more days, and as usual she had been right.

  "Do you have a phone number in Nashville where I can reach you?" Zachary asked quietly.

  "No. I'm staying here, and I don't have a phone."

  "In Sweetwater?" The lawyer was clearly surprised. Little went on in town, Sarah suspected, that he wasn't aware of. "Where?"

  "At the old Peters place." The answer came from the doorway behind them. Sarah didn't need to turn to know that the deep hard voice belonged to Daniel. "Right down the road from me."

  He came into the office, closing the door behind him. He had seen the yellow car parked out front and, suspecting that Sarah had come to see his lawyer, had asked Alicia to take Katie to the diner two blocks down the street and wait for him there. Sarah wouldn't catch him by accident with his daughter.

  She slowly turned her head until she could see him. Once again she was taken aback by his size and by his hardness. Was this really the man she'd spent the weekend with, sharing his meals and his company and his bed? He had seemed so different then—gentle, sweet … special. Now he was simply intimidating—big, hard, fierce and rough. But Katie was proof that she had stayed with him.

  "I think you two should talk," Zachary said. "Calmly. Rationally."

  Daniel shifted his gaze from the lawyer to Sarah. In faded jeans and a faded red shirt, she looked young, thin and tired. There were dark circles in the delicate skin under her eyes, as if her sleep last night had been troubled. And well it should be, he thought, his scowl deepening. Whatever had prompted her to give up Katie might be settled, but her troubles were just starting. "I have nothing to say to her."

  "Then you can listen to me," Sarah said quietly. "Will you sit down?"

  Ungraciously he sprawled in the chair opposite hers, sullen, determined to be uncooperative. His legs were stretched out, long and heavily muscled beneath nearly new jeans, and his booted feet rested only inches from Sarah's feet, smaller, narrower, in badly worn sandals.

  "I made an agreement with you a year ago—"

  "Eleven months ago," he interrupted.

  She nodded her acknowledgement. "I know you'll keep your word, and I'll keep mine. I don't want to take Katherine—"

  "Katie."

  The muscle in her neck started tightening. "I don't want to take Katie from you," she said, the tension apparent in her voice, "but I do want to see her. Those papers we signed said nothing about visits, and that's all I want. I'd like to be able to visit with her during the next month, until she comes to live with me again."

  Daniel ignored the prick of his conscience. Was she really foolish enough to trust him to keep his word and return Katie to her? Surely she must realize how difficult giving Katie back would be—how impossible—now, next month or ever.

  "No." His answer was flat, empty, signaling that the subject was closed. He fixed his coldest stare on her, daring her to argue, and she accepted the challenge.

  "Why not?"

  "Because she's my daughter."

  The way he said it made her shiver. She was familiar with that kind of possessiveness. Tony had been hers, had belonged to her and nobody else, and she would have fought the devil himself to keep him. Was that the way Daniel Ryan felt about K
atherine? Had he so easily forgotten that he hadn't produced the child on his own, that Sarah had had a greater part in it than he had? "No, Daniel," she said quietly. "She's our daughter. I couldn't have had her without you, and you couldn't have had her without me."

  One part of him could admit that she was right, but the other side blindly denied it. Katie had no mother. All she had was him. She was his daughter, his child, his future, his hope. Without her, he would have nothing but the cold, lonely emptiness that he'd lived with for so many years. He couldn't face that again, couldn't face life without Katie. "You gave her away," he accused. "What kind of mother does that to her own baby?"

  The look that came into her eyes was the saddest he had ever seen. It stabbed past the hard shell of his defenses and into his heart. "One who has no other choices." She had done what she'd had to do, but she knew that Daniel would never understand. He was strong, he was capable, he was a man. It would have been different for him. On top of that, even though he'd asked, she knew that he didn't want to understand. He wanted to believe that she was a terrible woman, a horrible mother who had no right to see her own child. That allowed him to justify turning her down.

  He uttered a brief, vulgar word. "There are always choices. You were just too selfish to make the right one." He paused, then finished with a warning. "Stay away from my house. Stay away from my daughter."

  The discussion was over. Sarah knew that she could stay and talk until her throat was hoarse, but she couldn't change his mind. She looked at Zachary Adams, who was staring intently at his desktop, uncomfortable with the entire situation. As she stood up, she extended her hand to him. "Thank you for seeing me, Mr. Adams. Beth will be in touch."

  He stood up, too, and shook her hand, murmuring a grim goodbye.