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  Carey threw her a curious glance, then Trent jumped back in.

  “There’s a reason it takes two to make a baby,” Trent explained, “and that’s because a kid needs two parents.”

  Tears filled Carey’s eyes and she took a steadying breath. “Look, that logic is nice on paper. Very mathematical. But this baby is stuck with only one parent. The father thing is not an option.”

  “It’s not a time for you to be stubborn.”

  “Stubborn? You think this is me being stubborn?”

  “Then what the hell is it?”

  She walked to the couch and sat down. “I don’t love the baby’s father. He doesn’t want to be in the baby’s life and he doesn’t love me, either. I should never have gotten physically involved with him.” She rubbed her hands over her eyes. “It was a huge mistake.”

  “Someone needs to make the asshole pay.”

  She whipped her head in her brother’s direction. “Trent, you aren’t listening to me. I do not want the father of my child in our lives. I don’t want you to hunt him down and hurt him. He’s not a criminal who needs to do his time.”

  “You’re being selfish, Carey. What kind of kid are you going to bring up with no father?”

  “Probably someone a lot like you and me.”

  “Is that really what you want?” His eyes pierced a gaping hole in her.

  Elbows on her knees, she leaned forward, wishing she could hide. He’d hit on her biggest doubt. Growing up without their dad around had profoundly affected them both. Her mom hadn’t had a choice…her husband had been taken away far too early by a disease with no cure when Carey was five and Trent was eight years old.

  Did Carey have the right to choose that for her child? Could her baby truly be content and well-adjusted with just one parent?

  She’d convinced herself she could be a better single mother than her own mom had been, but why should she believe that? She’d already proven she was just as foolish as her mother where men were concerned.

  So what was she supposed to do? Jerod was out of the picture no matter what. She wondered how huge an injustice she might be doing the baby. It wasn’t right that a child should have to pay with a lifetime of unhappiness just because of a mistake his or her mother made.

  Sadness overwhelmed Carey. It would never work with Jerod, but could she make it work on her own?

  “Lots of luck. You’re going to need it,” Trent said coldly. He glared at her before striding into the kitchen.

  She jumped to her feet with the thought of going after him and beating the crap out of him.

  “Let him go,” her mother said. “He’s just angry right now.”

  Carey fell back onto the couch. She felt sick to her stomach, and it had nothing to do with the growing baby, everything to do with Trent’s final statement and the fears he’d replanted.

  “Carey.”

  Carey didn’t look up, even when she felt the couch next to her sink under her mother’s weight.

  “I’m sure you’re going through a rough time.” Tentatively, her mom touched Carey’s knee. “I know what it’s like to be a single parent. It’s the hardest damn thing in the world.”

  If this was supposed to be a pep talk, it wasn’t working.

  “But I think you’re doing the right thing if the father’s no good.”

  Carey met her mother’s eyes, shocked. Had she heard her right? Was she being…supportive of being without a man?

  “When your dad died, well, I cried for two years. But then I tried to find a man I could love, one who’d be a good father. Because I knew I wasn’t doing the best job by myself. Looking back, it might have been better if I’d just focused on being a mom.”

  Carey was taken aback. Her mother had never admitted any doubts about whether she’d handled parenthood well.

  “I don’t want to screw up this baby’s life,” Carey said in a quiet, unwavering voice.

  “Your family will help you.”

  “Yeah, I can see Trent will trip over himself to come to my rescue.”

  “He’s mad for you, not at you. He loves you, Carey. I’ve always been a little jealous of how close you two are. You two seem to have found the family bond I’ve always wanted.”

  She read the pain and regret in her mom’s eyes.

  “I’ll help you with the baby if I can. You might think I’ve been a bad mother, but I do want my kids to have a good life. And my grandkids.”

  Carey stared at the woman, hesitant, tears filling her eyes again. She did not want to bawl in front of her mom. She took a deep breath. “We’ll see how it goes.”

  Her mother patted Carey’s arm. “I’ll leave you alone.”

  After her mom saw herself out the front door, Trent came back into the living room. He’d been in the kitchen and probably had heard the entire conversation.

  “You really think having Mom help out will take the place of a father for your kid?” His tone conveyed his anger even though he kept his voice down.

  “Give me a break, Trent. I don’t think anything of the sort. But at least she offered.”

  He stormed out the door, jumped into his truck and took off.

  The tears that had threatened minutes earlier let loose. Trent’s lack of confidence in her stung like lemon juice on a paper cut. He was one of the few people whose opinion mattered to her.

  FORTY-FIVE MINUTES later, after getting the tears out and washing up, Carey waited for Devin to answer his door. She’d left the house so she wouldn’t be there when Trent returned.

  She knew Devin was home because his SUV was next to his boat in the open garage, but she’d already rung the doorbell twice. As she dug through her purse for his spare key, he appeared in front of her wearing only jeans. She couldn’t help noticing in detail the muscles that sculpted his chest.

  “About time,” she said lightly, but when she looked up at his face, her tone turned serious. “What’s wrong?”

  His eyes were a stormy, steely gray, his jaw set. “Not sure.” He motioned her inside. “Just got off the phone with Gramps.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “I don’t know. He seemed to be having trouble getting air. Sounded weak.”

  “Did you ask him if he felt all right?” she asked quickly.

  “He said he was fine.” He blew out a loud anxious breath. “He always says he’s fine.”

  Devin paced away from her, staring at nothing. She followed taking him by the arm.

  “Let’s go,” she said. “We need to check on him.”

  He nodded and disappeared upstairs, returning moments later wearing a shirt and shoes.

  As they walked through the kitchen out to the garage, he muttered, “I’m not riding for an hour in the Bug.”

  “Yeah, well, my Bug is bigger than your boat.”

  But she backed her beloved car into the street to park it so they could take the Excursion. When she opened his car’s door, loud, thrashing music assaulted her. She was usually all for noise, but this made her head ache. She gave Devin a questioning look as she climbed in.

  Once they were out of town, she turned the volume down. “That racket will give the baby nightmares for sure.”

  He didn’t move, and she wasn’t certain he’d heard her. It was a solid two or three minutes before he finally spoke. “I suppose you want some classical crap?”

  “There has to be a happy medium somewhere.” Flipping the station to some nondescript jazz, she waited for him to comment.

  “You don’t buy that Bach makes babies smarter, huh?”

  She smiled. An inane topic. “It’ll take a lot more than violins and pianos to raise a genius.”

  He tapped her leg gently. “You’ve got smart genes when you use them.” He grinned, which was the only thing that prevented her from socking him.

  “Gramps is going to be ticked off that we’re checking up on him. What if he’s okay?” he asked solemnly.

  “Then he’s okay. And we know. That’s a good thing.”

  �
��You don’t know Gramps well. He hates being fussed over.”

  “We won’t fuss. We’ll think up an excuse to be there. Say we wanted to get out of the city or something.”

  Devin chuckled. “You think he wouldn’t see through that?”

  “You want to turn around and go home?”

  He shook his head, his smile fading. “I need to check on him. I have a bad feeling in my gut.” He turned the radio off. “You sure you don’t mind?”

  “I’m sure.” They were already several miles down the highway anyway.

  “Why’d you drop by in the first place?” he asked.

  “Trent and I had an argument.”

  “Ah, good ol’ Trent. What’s the Marlboro Man’s problem now?”

  She couldn’t suppress a grin, even though the tension between Devin and her brother drove her nuts. “I told him and my mom I’m pregnant.”

  Devin grimaced. “Double whammy, huh?”

  “My mom wasn’t bad, believe it or not. She offered to help with the baby.”

  Devin looked at her, puzzled, then returned his focus to the road. “Let me guess. Trent doesn’t like the prospect of being an uncle.”

  “You could say that. He told me I need the baby’s father to bring the child up right.”

  “I hope you told him that’s a load of bullshit.”

  “I tried.”

  “What do you mean you tried?” He shook his head. “If anyone besides Trent gives you static, you have no problem setting them straight. Why do you roll over when he’s around?”

  “I don’t roll over. He’s my brother. We’re close.”

  “Close, my ass. He mother hens you to death.”

  “He’s my big brother, Dev. He grew up taking care of me while my mother was on the endless man hunt.”

  She didn’t know why they bothered with this argument. “I’d really hate it if the two of you could get along,” she said dryly.

  “He’s too damn protective of you. Like he’s the only one concerned about your welfare.”

  Carey stared at him. “Are you concerned about my welfare?”

  He ignored her.

  “Trent means well.” Carey pulled her legs up under her on the huge seat and stared straight ahead.

  “Then what’s the problem?”

  She hesitated. “What if I can’t do this alone?”

  She sensed Devin looking at her.

  “Carey.”

  There was a hint of tenderness in his voice. He squeezed her hand lightly. Their eyes locked for a moment, and then he returned his attention to the road. Her skin felt strangely tingly where he’d touched her.

  “What?” she finally asked.

  He hesitated. “I don’t know. I was about to tell you to stop being so doubtful, remind you you’d gotten past that insecurity. But…” He shook his head as he trailed off.

  “But?”

  “What the hell do I know? I can’t imagine what it’s like to be pregnant and single. Shit, Care, I can’t imagine being a father, single or not. Who am I to try to help you?”

  His admission filled her with warmth. Made her feel better than all the pep talks in the world. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the headrest. She still didn’t have a clue how she’d get through this, but for now, Devin’s understanding gave her the illusion of peace.

  They rode in silence for several minutes. The sun was sinking, casting a golden glow over them. The smooth sound of the engine and the intangible connection she felt with Devin nearly soothed Carey into sleep.

  “Have you thought about where you’ll live after the baby’s born?” Devin asked, jolting her awake.

  The truth was she hadn’t given it a single thought. It was easy to forget the house was Trent’s since he’d spent so little time there until lately. “Probably the same place.”

  “With Trent?” There was disbelief in his voice.

  “When he’s there, which isn’t often.”

  Devin bit down on the words he wanted to say. She couldn’t be serious. Carey needed to get away from her brother. She claimed Trent meant well, and maybe he did, but still…he babied Carey, became too involved in her life. He still thought Devin was out to hurt her.

  Chances were Trent would eventually stay home for good. And Devin suspected the guy got off on trying to run Carey’s life.

  “I need to settle down, Dev.”

  “Yeah, you do. You need your own place. Have you ever had your own place?”

  Devin already knew she’d never lived independently.

  She turned her head toward the passenger window and didn’t respond.

  As he turned off the highway toward his grandpa’s house, his general mood went from piss-poor to scraping the cellar floor. Off the top of his head, he was worried that Carey was on the verge of making yet another flip decision she’d live to regret, that her brother would add to her stress level and that CMT might fail.

  But that all took a backseat to Gramps and the possibility something was seriously wrong. He needed to do better by the old man before it was too late.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  DEVIN PULLED into the long gravel driveway at dusk. Large oaks towered over the yard of his grandpa’s stately old home and protected the sprawling front porch from the elements. The expansive, one-story house constantly required maintenance, which usually kept Devin busy on summer weekends. He never used to mind. But he’d been so busy with CMT this year, the old place already looked a little worse for wear.

  He drove just beyond the house and parked in front of the solitary garage. He and Carey jumped down from the truck.

  Letting himself in the back door, he hollered out, “Gramps?”

  The old man ambled toward them from the living room, his oxygen hose trailing behind. Devin felt a rush of relief at the sight of him upright.

  “Didn’t I just get off the phone with you?”

  Gramps’s face was colorless, but his smile was genuine. Devin sized him up for any other signs of poor health. He seemed a little more bent than before. Devin wouldn’t get used to seeing him as an old man in poor health anytime soon.

  “You doing okay?” Devin asked.

  “Doing dandy.” He shuffled toward the kitchen. “Just on my way for my bedtime OJ.”

  “Straight up, right?” Carey teased.

  “You got it, Miss Carey.” He shook his finger at her affectionately.

  Gramps made his way farther into the kitchen.

  “He’s pale,” Devin whispered to Carey.

  She nodded and put a finger to her lips to quiet him.

  “How are you tonight, Miss Carey?” Gramps asked. His voice was less than robust.

  “Not too bad for having to put up with your grandson for almost an hour in the car.”

  Gramps chuckled and looked at her appreciatively. “I like her, Devin. Did I tell you that before?”

  “You told me.”

  Gramps had taken a shining to Carey the first time Devin had brought her out to meet him years ago. Their relationship made Devin happy, even though they always joined forces against him.

  “You two lovebirds shouldn’t have come all the way out here. Surely you’ve got better things to do. What’re you doing—checking up on the old man?”

  “We aren’t lovebirds, Gramps.”

  “Maybe you should be. She’s pretty and puts up with you. Now tell me why you’re here.”

  Devin decided to be honest; his grandpa would see through him if he wasn’t. “It sounded like you weren’t breathing too well when we talked on the phone.”

  “You caught me in the middle of my workout session.”

  “Ah,” Devin said doubtfully. “And what kind of a workout would that be?”

  “You never know what old men do for exercise. Tennis, golf, a little racquetball…”

  “Yeah, sure. When did you buy a PlayStation?”

  “A what?”

  Devin smiled and shook his head. “Never mind.”

  “Well, you drove a
ll this way, you might as well sit down and play some gin.”

  “You sure you’re up for that? It’s getting pretty late.”

  “I may be old and tired, but I can still gin you kids under the table. You up for cards, Miss Carey?”

  “Sure am.”

  They sat at the kitchen table playing gin and drinking orange juice. Devin had set out to win big but was losing regularly. He enjoyed himself anyway. As long as he was with Gramps, he could relax a little. If anything with his health cropped up, God forbid, Devin would be there to get help.

  After an hour or so, Gramps was tired out. “I hate to be rude to my uninvited guests, but it’s time for me to hit the hay. This old boy’s got a big day tomorrow.” He saluted and stood.

  “What’s going on tomorrow?” Carey asked.

  “Dragging my bones out of bed.” He winked at her.

  “Mind if we stick around awhile?” Devin said. “Might as well enjoy the country air while we’re here.” And make sure you’re going to be okay.

  “Suit yourselves. Sorry I can’t join you. You probably want to be alone anyway.” His heavy white eyebrows shot up a couple times suggestively.

  They said good-night, and Devin watched out of the corner of his eye as Gramps shuffled out of the room.

  “He said he’s okay,” Carey said, catching the concern he couldn’t hide.

  “I told you, he always says that. His color is off.”

  “He did look kind of gray,” she admitted. “What do we do?”

  “Let’s go try to enjoy the evening like we told him we would. I’ll check on him before we go.”

  The grass in the huge backyard had been recently cut, and his grandmother’s flower bed was a fragrant wash of colors he could barely make out in the dark. The teenager who lived down the county road tended the yard, and Devin wondered if he should pay the kid a bit extra himself to check on Gramps.

  At the back of the lot, near where the manicured lawn turned into a knee-high cornfield, they made their way to Devin’s favorite spot: a large hammock hung between two giant elm trees.

  He eased himself into it and motioned for Carey to lie opposite him, with her feet toward his head. Stretching out on his back, he gazed into the maze of leaves silhouetted above.