Waiting for the Wedding Read online

  “Yeah, they died a month before graduation.”

  She noticed that his hands tightened on the steering wheel and his features were closed, forbidding her to delve further into the topic of his parents.

  She wondered if Clint’s reticence to discuss his parents was because of his grief over their death, or because the relationship between parents and son had been strained. All she knew was that he almost never mentioned them.

  “You ready for breakfast?” he asked as he pointed to a truck stop ahead.

  “Sure, sounds great,” she agreed.

  Within minutes Clint and Sherry were seated opposite each other at a booth and Kathryn was happily banging a spoon on her high-chair tray.

  “I can’t believe what a good-natured baby she is,” Sherry marveled. Kathryn had awakened as they’d carried her into the restaurant, an instant smile lighting her cherub features.

  “She takes after her daddy,” Clint replied, winking at the little girl.

  Sherry wondered what Clint would do if they discovered the baby wasn’t Candy’s and consequently not his. She had a feeling his heart would break. He’d embraced Kathryn as his own so completely and he seemed to have pushed any doubts about her paternity away.

  The waitress appeared at their table, an older woman whose name tag read Alma. She handed them each a menu, then aahed and oohed over Kathryn.

  “It’s hard to tell who she looks most like,” Alma said. “She’s definitely got her daddy’s eyes, but I think she maybe has her mama’s nose. She sure is a doll baby.”

  “Thanks,” Clint said before Sherry could explain that she wasn’t Kathryn’s mother. They ordered, and the waitress disappeared back into the kitchen.

  “I guess we look like a respectable family enjoying breakfast out,” he said. “Funny how people are willing to believe illusions.”

  A respectable family—a loving, family unit. Just an illusion, Sherry had to remind herself again and again as they enjoyed the meal. They took turns feeding Kathryn from their plates, cheering as she accepted what they offered and laughing as she spit out what she didn’t like.

  It could have been like this, Sherry thought with a touch of bitterness. It should have been like this. She and Clint should be married, with a child of their own. It was what she’d dreamed about, what she’d longed for…and it was what cruel fate had stolen from her.

  She tried to dispel her negative thoughts. She’d made a conscious decision five years ago to allow Clint the freedom to have all the dreams she’d once held for herself.

  There was no going back for them…and no going forward. She would never have children of her own, and after seeing Clint with Kathryn, she would never ask him to sacrifice the joy of true fatherhood.

  No, she and Clint would never share a life, but that didn’t mean there weren’t other options for her. An idea swirled around in the back of her head, a nebulous whisper of hope.

  They finished the meal but lingered over coffee, as if reluctant to continue their journey. They were both extremely aware that the trip might end in Kathryn being reunited with her mother.

  Their conversation ranged from Walt and Betty’s running feud over Rover the flower-eating dog, to Andy’s futile crush on Ramona Baker, the young woman who had recently bought the florist shop in town.

  When a silence fell between them, Sherry spoke aloud the thought that had been flitting through her head. “When all this with Kathryn is settled, I think I’m going to check into adopting a child. From what I understand, they’re allowing single people to do that now.”

  Clint frowned and signaled the waitress for their check. “You know I’ve never been a big believer in adoption,” he said. “I’d rather have no children than adopt any. But you have to do what’s best for you.”

  He’d closed off, pulled the shades over his eyes and locked the door on his emotions. Just as he’d done years ago when they’d had a theoretical discussion about the merits of adoption.

  The discussion had taken place before Sherry had known she’d never have children. She’d told Clint she’d like to have two children and adopt two, and it had been then that Clint had told her he’d never consider adoption.

  Clint went to the register to pay for the meal as Sherry washed Kathryn’s face and hands with a damp napkin. When she was finished, she gazed at Clint and in that moment she realized why she’d brought up the adoption issue.

  It had been a last attempt to see if there was any hope for a future between them. As she picked up the little girl, a strange ache throbbed in her chest—an ache she thought she’d long ago resolved.

  She loved Clint. The emotion tore through her with unexpected clarity. She’d never, ever stopped loving him. Despite her wanting the contrary, he’d been in her heart all these years.

  As she hugged Kathryn close, she recognized the strange ache for what it was, and she was surprised that after all this time she could still hurt. It was the confirmation that she and Clint could never, would never share their lives.

  Chapter Seven

  A s they drew closer to Kansas City, Clint’s nerves jangled and jumped in the pit of his stomach, making him sorry he’d indulged himself in a huge breakfast.

  Sherry had been silent since they’d left the truck stop, as if something important occupied her thoughts.

  Her floral scent filled the car and eddied in his head. He thought about the sparkle in her eyes, her laughter and animation as they’d shared their meals with Kathryn.

  It was a shame she’d never have children of her own. She would have made a wonderful mother. She had the gift of laughter and a deep well of love to share—but not with me, he reminded himself.

  Her announcement that she intended to adopt a child had been a necessary slap to his senses, reminding him that on the issue of children and family, he and Sherry were worlds apart.

  She knew how he felt about adoption. It had been the subject of the one heated argument they’d ever had. She knew how he felt, and her decision to adopt on her own merely served to remind him that she didn’t want him in her life on a permanent basis.

  She loved him as a friend, and that was all. He frowned and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. But did a friend offer another friend such heat, such intense hunger in a kiss?

  He shot her a surreptitious gaze. The late-morning sunlight drifted in the window to stroke shiny highlights into her hair. Clint’s fingers tingled as he remembered how her hair had felt…silky soft and invitingly touchable.

  Wearing a pair of jeans and a pullover red-and-white-striped top, she should have looked casually relaxed, but she didn’t. Tension tugged at her features, and when her gaze turned and caught his, he saw a mournful sadness in her eyes.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I guess I ate too much.” She flashed him a quicksilver smile, but the gesture lacked life. She stared back out the front window. “I think I’ve got a little stomachache.”

  “A stomachache…or a heartache?” he asked.

  Her gaze jerked back to him sharply. “A heartache? Why would you think I have a heartache?” Her voice held a defensive edge.

  He shrugged and snapped the blinker on to indicate he was taking the next exit. “I know it’s only been a couple of days, but I’ve seen how much Kathryn has managed to capture your heart. I’m sure it hurts to realize it’s very possible we’re delivering her back to her mother.”

  Sherry visibly relaxed and turned her head to gaze at the little girl happily babbling in the back seat. She turned back around and released a deep sigh. “Yes, she has managed to capture my heart, just as she has yours.”

  Clint nodded. “She’s done more than capture my heart,” he replied softly. “She’s become the keeper of my dreams, and these are dreams I didn’t even know I possessed.”

  The awe that had been with him since the moment he recognized the possibility that the little girl was his filled him so completely, it made any further speech impossible.

  Sh
erry reached over and touched his shoulder. “If you really are her father, she’s the luckiest little girl alive.”

  If. A word that held all things possible and all things impossible. He didn’t even want to consider the possibility that Kathryn wasn’t his.

  Because Sherry would never have children of her own, she’d never experience the depth of love Clint felt for Kathryn. That broke his heart on Sherry’s behalf. Adopting a child wouldn’t be the same, could never be the same as having one who carried your genes, who came from your very soul.

  “If Candy really is her mother, then I’m going to have a long hard talk with her before I just hand Kathryn back to her,” Clint said, more to himself than to Sherry. “I have to make sure she never pulls anything like this again.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the slip of paper that contained Candy’s address. “This apartment building should be just up ahead,” he said to Sherry. “There are several apartment buildings in this block, so we’ll have to watch for the actual address.” He slowed the car to a near creep.

  “There.” Sherry pointed to a six-story brick building on the left side of the road.

  Clint pulled into an empty parking space across the street and shut off the engine. For a moment he simply sat and stared at the apartment building where Stan had said Candy now lived.

  In the next few minutes his life would be forever changed. He’d learn if Kathryn was really his or not. In an instant his mind exploded with visions of weekend visits, of trips to the park and sticky kisses, of ballet lessons and frilly dresses.

  Drawing a deep breath, he opened his car door and got out. Sherry did the same. As Sherry grabbed the diaper bag, Clint unbuckled Kathryn and drew her into his arms.

  She laughed and reached for the end of his nose. Clint dodged her grasp and instead hugged her tight against him. She smelled of baby powder and innocence, and a tide of protective love welled up inside him.

  “Let’s get this over with,” he said to Sherry, who nodded and fell into step with him. Together they entered the apartment building and went to the bank of elevators. “I’m hoping since it’s Saturday morning, Candy will be home.”

  “What floor?” Sherry asked as they stepped into the elevator.

  “Sixth,” Clint said. “According to Stan, Candy lives in 603.”

  Sherry punched the button for the sixth floor. They rode up in silence. Even Kathryn was somber and quiet, as if sensing something amiss.

  When the elevator reached the sixth floor, the doors dinged open and they stepped out. Right in front of them was apartment 603.

  Clint didn’t hesitate. Now that he stood before the door that would give him the answers he sought, he was eager to get it over and done with. He knocked loudly on the door, then looked at Sherry.

  She stood clutching the diaper bag to her chest. She returned his gaze, and in her eyes he saw the abiding friendship and deep support he’d come to count on through the years.

  He also saw the pain of a woman who’d grown to love a child and now might have to relinquish the bond that had grown between them.

  He realized that for the past several days, both he and Sherry had been living a fantasy…sharing the joys of parenthood. He also realized that giving up Kathryn would be almost as difficult on her as it was on him.

  He knocked once again on the door, then reached for Sherry’s hand, wanting to support her and needing the warmth of the physical connection for himself.

  “Hold your horses,” a familiar female voice called out from behind the door. There was a jangle of a chain lock being removed, then the door opened.

  Candy looked just as Clint remembered her. Platinum-blond hair was perfectly coiffed and her eye makeup was dramatic and bold, emphasizing cold, blue eyes.

  “Clint!” She looked at him in surprise. “What are you doing here?” She turned and looked at Sherry. “And Shirley, isn’t it?”

  “Sherry,” Sherry corrected dryly. She pulled her hand from Clint’s and took a step backward, as if not wanting to get too close to the woman she’d described as a man-eater.

  “Ah, yes…Sherry. What’s going on?” Candy looked from one to the other, her obvious confusion appearing genuine. “Cute baby,” she observed. “Is she yours?” she asked Sherry.

  Clint felt as if a bullet had been shot through his heart. “Actually, we thought she might be yours,” he said.

  Candy’s eyes widened. “Mine?” Candy’s hands fluttered in the air, her nails long, and painted a vivid red that matched her lipstick. “Good God, why would you think something like that?”

  “She was left on my doorstep several days ago with a note that implied I was her father.” Clint’s voice sounded dull and lifeless to his own ears. That’s how he felt—lifeless, dead inside. “Her, uh, conception would have occurred about the time I was seeing you…so I thought maybe—”

  “Oh, please,” Candy said with amusement. “Perish the very thought. I don’t find children particularly cute or amusing, and the last thing I’d do would be to have one of my own.” She grinned at Clint. “You’d better check your black book again, darling…see who else you might have been seeing besides me.”

  Clint believed her. Candy was the last woman on earth who would choose to have a child. A child required love and nurturing, and Candy was too busy loving and nurturing herself to attend to any baby.

  “Sorry to bother you,” he said. He turned and punched the elevator button.

  “Clint?”

  He turned back to face the attractive woman. “You’re looking real good,” she cooed. “If you ever want a second go-round, just give me a call.”

  “Thanks, Candy, but I think I’ll pass,” he returned. “One round with you was more than enough for me.”

  Candy’s eyes narrowed, and without another word she slammed her apartment door.

  “I can’t believe I actually dated that woman,” Clint said as he and Sherry stepped into the elevator. “Why didn’t you check me into a mental institution when I started seeing her? I must have been crazy.” He carefully kept his thoughts distant from the fact that the baby in his arms was no longer his daughter, but rather an abandoned baby, a stranger.

  “You’re a big boy and nobody was holding a gun to your head,” she replied.

  They spoke no more as they left the apartment building and got back into the car. Clint secured Kathryn in her car seat, his heart aching with renewed pain.

  Not his. The baby that had captured his heart, been embraced by his very soul, wasn’t really his. There would be no weekend visits, no trips to the zoo or ballet lessons. There would be no sticky kisses and Father’s Day surprises where he and little Kathryn were concerned.

  As he started the car engine, he glanced over at Sherry. Somehow he knew his loss would have been easier to bear if Sherry loved him. If he held Sherry’s heart, then the empty place inside him wouldn’t be quite so empty.

  As it was, the emptiness rang deep and painful, and he’d never in his life felt so utterly alone.

  Clint was silent on the drive home. Several times Sherry tried to think of words to say, words of comfort and support, but each time she turned to look at him, the misery on his face kept her silent.

  In many ways Clint had always been a private man. Although generous in nature, Sherry had learned a long time ago that he kept his emotions under a tight wrap, sharing little of the feelings that were inside him.

  A year ago, when Clint’s best friend in Armordale died in a tragic car accident, Sherry had gone to the funeral with Clint. She’d seen the grief that played on his features, felt the sorrow that radiated from him, but he’d refused to speak of his feelings and hadn’t sought any comfort from her.

  It was the same way now. She sensed that he’d shut down, closed off, but she ached with her own need to comfort him.

  How horrible it must be, she thought, to truly believe you had a child, to allow that child into your hopes and dreams, into your heart and soul, only to discover the child wasn’t yours afte
r all.

  Somehow his pain was even worse than hers. Once she’d learned she couldn’t have children, there had been no hope to tease her, no possibility of dreams coming true to torment her.

  She waited until they were almost back to Armordale before she finally broke the silence. “So, what do we do now…about Kathryn?”

  “I suppose Monday I’ll have to contact Social Services,” he said. She heard the deep reluctance in his voice.

  “Don’t you dare,” Sherry replied. “There’s no way I’ll let you do that.”

  He cast her a sideways glance. “But you told me you’d only help me out for three days.”

  “Well, I lied,” she replied succinctly. Then she reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Clint, just because we’ve found out she isn’t yours doesn’t mean we just throw her to the system.” She dropped her hand.

  “And I don’t want to throw her to the system,” he said after a moment of hesitation. “But how long can we keep this arrangement going? How long are you willing to put your own life on hold?”

  “As long as it takes,” she replied. She turned around to look at the little girl sleeping in the car seat. “As long as she needs me.”

  She shifted position and once again looked at him. “Besides, in the note the mother said she would be back for her in a week or so. That’s only a couple more days away.” Sherry offered Clint a teasing smile. “Surely you can survive having me as a house guest for a little while longer.”

  No responding light of humor lit his eyes, and he made no reply.

  Sherry fell silent once again, her heart aching with the hurt that he must be feeling. At least he had the consolation that although Kathryn wasn’t his, he could still have his own children.

  She had a feeling that Kathryn had opened his heart and because of his temporary fatherhood he’d be more eager than ever to get married and start a family of his own.