Her Sister's Baby

Prologue

The cemetery was old, with the graves of each generation sprawling beyond the last. Ancient maples, leafless now, followed the lane that curved through the green sward. Even older were the first headstones, gray, sometimes tilting, their carved letters silent testament to long-past tragedies.

But the tragedy that had brought the mourners here today was as raw as the empty stretch of sloping land ready to receive the next generation. Beneath a tarp, dark earth was heaped beside the newly dug grave, where Sheila Elizabeth Delaney was being laid to rest.

In agony, Colleen Deering wrenched her gaze from the braced casket and stared unseeing at the small crowd huddled beyond it.

Oh, God. The pain cramped inside her chest, stealing her breath. She didn’t know if she could bear it. Her sister had been only thirty-two, happy in her marriage, looking forward to raising a family. Why Sheila? Colleen cried silently. Why now?

The minister was talking, his voice soothing, his utterances age-old and perhaps even true. Was everyone else listening? Colleen looked from face to face, struggling to find some link with another soul among this crowd of mourners.

Not unexpectedly she found it in the eyes of the man who faced her across her sister’s grave. He truly was a stranger, this tall, broad-shouldered man who had remained dry-eyed throughout the ordeal, a silent, rigid presence. She supposed some of the mourners were his friends, though he stood apart from the others, staring at the gleaming, flower-draped casket atop its supports. His expression was set, unrevealing. Only his hands, curled into fists, gave away the anguish he otherwise disguised.

And then he lifted his head. His blue eyes, shockingly vivid here, where even the sky wore the colors of mourning, met Colleen’s. In them she saw everything she felt and more.

She wished suddenly she knew him better, this man her sister had loved. Instead of staring at each other across a rift, they ought to have been able to offer each other comfort. After all, Michael Delaney was—no, had been—Sheila’s husband.

He was also the father of the unborn child Colleen carried.

Chapter 1

"Kim likes her teacher at least, Colleen said, turning on the faucet to rinse the breakfast dishes. Mrs. Peters. Do you know her?"

I don’t think so. Sheila’s tone was distracted.

She sat at Colleen’s kitchen table sipping coffee, at first glance looking perfectly at home. She was a beautiful woman, but today she seemed brittle, edgy. She had lost weight, Colleen thought.

Chattering to cover her unease, Colleen said, Well, Mrs. Peters is one brave woman. Last year she taught kindergarten. This year she’s switched to sixth grade. Can you believe it? She shook her head. From five-year-olds jumping on desks to a roomful of preadolescent hormones.

Sheila gave an odd, twisted smile. Don’t parents make the same transition?

Colleen grabbed the kitchen sponge. Yes, but gradually, thank God.

Sheila neither laughed nor remarked, odd in itself since she had stopped by just to visit. Instead, as she idly stirred her coffee, there was unexplained tension in the way she held herself. She was too pale, with dark circles beneath her eyes. Without her usual smile, the lines beside her mouth were unhappy ones.

Colleen occupied herself scrubbing on the countertop while she tried to think of a tactful way to ask what was wrong.

Out of the blue Sheila said, Do you know how much I envy you?

Colleen turned, the sponge still in her hand. Her first instinct was to make some teasing remark despite her sister’s strange tone. But when she saw the way Sheila’s mouth twisted, the cloud in her huge brown eyes, Colleen said carefully, What do you mean?

Isn’t it obvious?

Given the fact that my small store of savings is almost gone and my business is barely breaking even, that Drew refuses to talk to his father when he calls while Kim cries herself to sleep… Her laugh revealed more frustration than she’d known she felt. No, it’s not obvious.

At least you have them. There it was again, the anger, the hurt, the envy.

That’s true. Colleen tossed the sponge into the sink and went to sit at the table. She touched Sheila’s elegant, long-fingered hand. Have you given up?

Sheila’s face contorted and then she bent her head to hide the tears Colleen had already seen in her eyes. I can’t go on like this, she said, on a hiccuping sob. I’ve tried and tried, but I’m just pretending. I don’t even tell Michael anymore when I’m ovulating. What’s the point? We both know what’ll happen. Do you know what he said the last time? ‘Why are you doing this to yourself?’ Her hands curled into fists. God.

Doesn’t he want children?

Oh. Her tone was suddenly lifeless. I don’t know. More than the tears, it was the emptiness in her eyes that scared Colleen. "No, that’s not true. He always claimed he wanted a family. But of course, it’s my body that’s the issue. We both know that, even though he never blames me. But how can I give up? What would we have left?"

The idea of not having Drew and Kim was unthinkable, but Colleen tried to remember how she’d felt before they came into her life.

A happy marriage, a beautiful home, a job you enjoy…

Sheila hadn’t even heard her. Nothing, she said fiercely. That’s what. All I ever wanted is a family. I feel betrayed, as though somebody promised— She broke off.

When Colleen came to her, Sheila buried her face in her sister’s stomach and wrapped her arms around her waist with the intensity of a child who needs to hold on for dear life. Tears wet Colleen’s cheeks. She murmured the kind of reassurances that satisfy a child. Sheila was beyond that, but what else could Colleen offer?

Maybe it was enough. At least she was here. Until three months ago, when Colleen had moved with her children to this small town in eastern Washington, all she’d been able to do was listen to her sister long-distance and sympathize. Of course she’d known that Sheila wanted children, and that she and Michael were disappointed because of how hard they’d tried without being able to conceive. But preoccupied by her own divorce, she hadn’t fully understood how devastated her sister was by what she saw as her failure.

Well, things were different now. Colleen had moved to Clayton to be close to her sister. Obviously Sheila had needed Colleen just as much.

Finally Sheila let go of her and lifted her head. Mascara tracked down her cheeks and her peaches-and-cream complexion was blotched. I want to hate somebody, she said with devastating simplicity. But the only person I can hate is myself.

That’s ridiculous! Colleen protested. It’s not as though you can help it. I can’t imagine that Michael holds it against you.

No, her sister said drearily. Of course he doesn’t. But I do.

Grasping for straws, Colleen asked, What about the adoption agency?

Sheila gave a mirthless laugh. "They’ve never even done a home study. We’ve been on their list for four years. And it could be many, many more years before we get a baby. I don’t think they’re going to give us one. There are never enough babies. Who knows, maybe they didn’t like something about us. It would be so easy to trip up and never even know it."

There must be other agencies….

I’m afraid they’d drop us from the list if they found out we’d gone somewhere else. Anyway, we’d be starting all over and I hear it’s just as bad no matter what agency you’re with. She mopped at her tears with a napkin. I’m sorry, Col. I didn’t mean to dump on you. I’m just…I’m at the end of my tether.

Cry to your heart’s content, Colleen declared. That’s what sisters are for.

Sheila’s smile trembled and fresh tears washed away the old. I’m so glad you’re here. I’ve missed you. Since Mom died, I’ve felt so alone.

Well, you’re not. With a sting of anger, Colleen wondered what was wrong with Michael that his wife was so lonely. But this wasn’t the time to ask. Instead, Colleen hugged her sister, brushing her curls back from her wet face. Sheila’s hard veneer was gone; she might have been the fifteen-year-old who had cried when her older sister left for college.

I’d do anything for you, Colleen said passionately. You know that, don’t you?

Yeah. Sheila gave another shaky smile. It’s ironic that the one thing I need is something you can’t give me.

That was when the notion came to Colleen, simple, almost ridiculously obvious, breathtaking. Slowly, examining it from each side, she said, Why not?

If you mean that you’ll share Drew and Kim— Sheila stopped dead, her eyes widening. You’re not thinking…?

Why not? Colleen said again, recklessly.

Her sister jumped to her feet. You’re crazy.

What makes you say that? Instead of regretting her impulsive suggestion, Colleen liked it better the more she considered it. Pregnancy and childbirth had been embarrassingly easy for her.

Sheila shook her head. Col, we’re talking about nine months of your life! Morning sickness, stretch marks, getting as big as a cow! It’s one thing to have your own children, but you’ll have to give the baby up. And we’ll have to use your eggs….

"Yeah, but I actually like being pregnant, Colleen told her. I can’t claim to enjoy childbirth, but I was only in labor with Drew for three hours. No big deal."

She would have willingly embarked on forty-eight hours of labor, even a C-section, if only for the look in Sheila’s eyes—the incredulous hope, the dawning wonder.

You really mean it, don’t you? You’d do this for me?

Of course I mean it. But Colleen felt obligated to warn, Michael may not like the idea.

Sheila gave a quick shake of her head. He won’t mind. Why should he? It’d be his baby. And almost mine. At least you and I share the same genes. We even look alike.

Colleen wrinkled her nose. Well…almost. You’ve always been prettier.

Don’t be silly. Sheila jumped to her feet. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes glowed. You’d really do this for me?

In a second, Colleen told her. Then she smiled. Well, not quite. We’ll have to wait until the right time of the month.

Sheila made a face. "I’m an expert on that! I swear not an hour has passed in five years or more when I didn’t think about what time of month it was, whether tonight we ought to try again, whether this time we’d get lucky…. She let out a long, shuddering breath. Part of me had given up and part of me never stopped hoping."

Tentatively Colleen introduced a note of practicality. Do you know…well, how to go about it? I mean— she was blushing now, too —getting me pregnant?

Sheila didn’t seem to notice. I’ll bet our doctor would do it. After I talk to Michael, I’ll call and find out. She suddenly laughed and snatched Colleen into a hug. I can’t believe this is happening! I’ve dreamed about it for so long! In her mercurial way, Sheila suddenly sobered. Oh, Col, I don’t know if I can do this to you. Wouldn’t it break your heart to give the baby away?

It won’t be mine to give away. Consider it babysitting. Colleen gripped both of her sister’s hands and gazed solemnly into her eyes. I swear, she vowed, as much for herself as for her sister, that I will never, even for a minute, think of the baby as mine. It’s yours—and Michael’s.

Sheila stared at her for a long moment, then sank onto a chair as though her legs had suddenly turned to jelly. You do mean it.

Colleen’s own legs felt a little weak, and she, too, sat down abruptly. Half in amazement at herself, Colleen said, I really, really do. The only thing is…well, maybe you’d better not talk to Michael yet.

What do you mean? Sheila asked in quick alarm.

I need to talk to Kim and Drew. I can’t do something this drastic without giving them some voice in my decision. Colleen bit her lip. I’m sorry. I should have talked to them before I got your hopes up.

Don’t be silly. Sheila bounced to her feet again, moving nervously, her voice deliberately light. Of course they should come first. And promise me, if they don’t like the idea, you won’t put pressure on them. I don’t want them feeling guilty. Okay?

Okay, Colleen agreed. I’ll call you the second I talk to them.

And I’d better get to work. Sheila’s gleaming auburn hair, worn in a stylish bob, shimmered as she bent to grab her purse. Then she gave Colleen a quick kiss on the cheek. When she straightened, she was unexpectedly blinking away new tears. Col… I just want to say… She tried to smile. Look at me, not able to get out a simple thank-you. But I want to say it now. Even if nothing comes of this, thank you. Just…talking about it made me realize how much we mean to each other. We’re lucky, aren’t we?

Colleen didn’t even have a chance to answer. Sheila was already slamming the bottom half of the Dutch door and waving before she vanished down the walk. A moment later Colleen heard the throaty engine of her sister’s bright red sports car.

Colleen wanted to talk to Drew and Kim now, but they were in school and she had to open the store at ten. In fact, she remembered, with a panicky glance at the clock, she’d promised to be there early so that the instructor for the class on appliqué could set up in the back room. Sheila would have to wait.

At dinner Colleen had to hear all about her kids’ day at school before she could get a word in edgewise. It wasn’t until afterward, when Kim and Drew were both helping her clean up, that Colleen realized the right moment had come. Hands in the soapy dishwater, she was suddenly struck by how many of life’s decisions she’d made in the kitchen, how many crises had found her there. She just been drying the last pan the night when Ben had announced he wanted a divorce.

Shaking that particular recollection off, Colleen took a deep breath and said very casually, I have something I want to discuss with you guys.

Drew had just come back from taking the garbage out to the can. Ignoring her, he complained, This is a gross job. Why can’t Kim do it? I’d rather dry dishes.

That’s not what I heard two weeks ago, Colleen reminded him. At the time he had whined that taking out the garbage only took a minute, while drying took forever.

Yeah, but I didn’t know then how garbage stinks.

Colleen smiled at him. That probably means we should wash out the trash can. Saturday.

But—

Kim elbowed him. Why don’t you put a cork in it. Mom has something to say.

Don’t tell me what to do. Drew’s square jaw jutted out just like his father’s often had. You’re not my mother!

Colleen sighed. "Kim, you might have phrased that a little more tactfully. Drew, I am your mother, and I do want to talk about something."

He subsided, mumbling, "Yeah, well, she always thinks she can give orders…."

Forging on, Colleen said, You guys know how much your aunt Sheila and uncle Michael would like to have a baby.

Kim shot her brother a dirty look. "Why don’t you give ’em Drew? I wouldn’t miss him. And he’s a baby, all right."

Drew had gotten as far as storming, "Talk about babies! You should have seen her yesterday—" when Colleen covered his mouth with a soapy hand.

Giving her daughter a minatory look, she said, Tempting though the idea occasionally is, I would never give either of you away. I’m actually kind of fond of you both.

Kim wrinkled her nose. Fond?

Colleen smiled and removed her hand from Drew’s mouth. Well, okay, maybe a little more than fond.

Drew scrubbed at his mouth with his T-shirt. Gross. You didn’t have to wash my mouth out with soap.

If you’d shut it a little quicker, you wouldn’t have gotten soap in there. Colleen was getting a headache. Can you two just listen to me for a minute? Reassured by their reluctant nods, she explained, The problem is, your aunt Sheila can’t get pregnant. There’s something wrong with her eggs. Drew was beginning to squirm—he didn’t want to hear any more about girls and sex than he absolutely had to—but she ignored him. They’ve tried to adopt a baby, but they’ve been waiting forever. There just aren’t very many babies available for adoption. So I got to thinking…well, that I could have one for her.

Her children stared at her with identical expressions of horror. Drew was the first to speak. "But who would be the father?"

This was the tricky part. The part, in fact, that she didn’t like thinking about herself. Your uncle Michael.

But he’s married to Aunt Sheila already.

Colleen tried to remember how much she had told Drew about sex and procreation. Hoping it was enough, she gave an upbeat explanation of how artificial insemination was done and how the pregnancy wouldn’t really affect them that much. I’d go to the hospital and have the baby, and then come home. Only instead of bringing it with me, like I did you guys, Aunt Sheila would take the baby. He—or she—would be both your cousin and your half brother.

She fielded a barrage of questions. Why half brother? What would Dad think? Would anybody tell the baby that his mom wasn’t really his mom? At last the stream slowed, and Colleen said, Some people might not approve of my doing this. I would have worried more about that if we were still back in Pacifica, but here hardly anybody would have to know.

What about our friends? Drew asked.

What friends? Kim muttered.

You’ll make some, Colleen said. It just takes time. Especially in a new town where everybody else has known each other forever. And, Drew, I don’t think the boys you’ve had over would even notice if I was pregnant. The only reason they ever come into the house is to look for something to eat.

He appeared to contemplate that briefly. "I guess I wouldn’t care if one of their mothers was having a baby." His curled lip conveyed his opinion of the whole business.

What do you think, Kim? Colleen asked quietly. Her daughter was the one who hadn’t wanted to move, who clung ferociously to her belief in her father however many times he failed her. Drew wasn’t old enough to be traumatized by the snubs that might come his way if the community found out and disapproved of this pregnancy. But Kim was, and not even for Sheila would Colleen hurt her daughter.

After a minute, the eleven-year-old shrugged awkwardly. It’s okay with me, I guess. I think it’s cool that you want to do it for her.

Colleen gave each of her children an impulsive hug. Believe it or not, she informed them, the time will come when you two are willing to admit how much you love each other, too.

Kim leveled a cool stare at her brother, who returned it in good measure. Yeah, right, she said flatly.

"She’s a girl," Drew said.

Colleen laughed. So much for her only serious reservation about the step she contemplated taking. Now it was up to Sheila and Michael.

From that day on Colleen couldn’t bring herself to face Michael. Suddenly he wasn’t just Sheila’s husband; he was a man. Even though the process of artificial insemination was completely impersonal, Colleen couldn’t forget that Michael would be the father of the baby she’d carry. He might never touch her, but still some part of the two of them would be melded into one. They would have come together in the most intimate of ways.

What she should do was resolve her feelings, maybe even talk about them with Sheila. Coward that she was, Colleen avoided him altogether. Whenever Sheila suggested dinner, Colleen pretended she had to be at the shop but offered to meet her for lunch, instead. Drew’s soccer game saved her from a Sunday barbecue at her sister and brother-in-law’s house; the meeting of the local quilt guild happened to be the evening Sheila and Michael were having friends in for drinks. She could only pray that neither of them had put two and two together and realized why she was making excuses.

Once she narrowly escaped running into him at, of all disastrous places, the doctor’s office. She’d just arrived for her second attempt at being inseminated and was dropping her chart into the in-basket at the nurse’s station. She turned when she heard footsteps approaching and the nurse saying, Right this way, Mr. Delaney. I’ll just get you a cup…. Behind the nurse was Michael, his dark head bent as he listened to her, his face inscrutable.

Colleen had never moved faster in her life. She whisked out of sight through the nearest open door, her heart pounding and her knees weak. Thank heavens he hadn’t been looking her way! What if they had come face-to-face? What would she have said to the man who was here to produce sperm to impregnate her, thanks to the doctor who insisted it had to be fresh for the optimum success rate?

Her heartbeat took another dizzying leap when the nurse spoke again, sounding so close that she had to be standing with Michael right on the other side of the door Colleen was hiding behind.

Why don’t I put you in this room?

With a horrified glance over her shoulder, Colleen discovered she had taken refuge in an examining room. What if the nurse brought Michael in here? A wave of heat washed over Colleen’s face.

But the footsteps receded, and a moment later she peeked out to see that he was gone. The nurse was hurrying toward her.

She looked startled to see Colleen emerging from a room. Oh, Mrs. Deering, I didn’t see you arrive. I’m afraid it will be a few minutes. You’re welcome to stay in that room if you’d prefer, or I can call you back in when we’re ready for you.

Colleen chose the privacy of the room to avoid any chance of meeting Michael as he was leaving, having handed over the precious cup.

For the first time it occurred to her to wonder, if she was embarrassed, what Michael must feel. She’d assumed that Sheila was accompanying him to these appointments, but he had undeniably been alone. How on earth did he get aroused, alone in the sterile surroundings of the clinic, knowing that the nurse waited just outside? Think how dreadful it would be to a man’s ego if he had to admit that he just couldn’t do it!

But apparently he could, because not fifteen minutes later the doctor was ready to do his part in the procedure that would magically produce life inside her even without the warmth and closeness of lovemaking.

She knew in a matter of weeks that she was pregnant, but Colleen wasn’t about to raise her sister’s hopes. Not yet. She waited another week, then closed her shop early one day and went by the clinic. A pregnancy test confirmed her hopes.

On her way out Colleen almost stopped in the waiting room to phone Sheila. But somehow a phone call didn’t seem adequate for news so momentous. And surely it was too early in the afternoon for Michael to be home. She could stop by to exchange mutual congratulations with Sheila and then run.

Sheila confounded her.

Don’t be silly, the kids will be fine without you. You have to be here when I tell Michael. We’re in this together, aren’t we?

But it’s your baby, Colleen protested weakly. Wouldn’t you like to be alone—

They both heard the sound of the garage door opening.

Oh, here’s Michael now. Sheila jumped to her feet, face glowing. I can hardly wait to tell him! She danced several steps toward the kitchen, then stopped theatrically. Or should I open some champagne and spring the news on him when I hand him the glass? I wonder if we have any…. Oh, I can’t bear it. She spun toward the kitchen. I’ve got to tell him. You don’t mind, do you, Col?

Sheila vanished into the kitchen and Colleen braced