"He’d been drinking heavily."

"That’s not like Steve."

"I know," Lindy said heatedly. "I didn’t know when he’d eaten last, so I fixed him something, which was a mistake because once he had something in his stomach he got feisty again and wanted me to leave."

"Did you?"

"No." Lindy started nibbling on the corner of her mouth. "I kept asking him questions about you, which only made him more angry. I soon learned you were a subject best avoided."

"I can imagine."

"After a while, he fell asleep on the sofa and I stayed around and cleaned up the apartment. It was a mess. Then… I heard Steve. I thought at first he was in the middle of a bad dream and I went to wake him, but when I came into the living room, I found him sitting on the end of the davenport with his hands over his face. He was weeping, Carol. As I’ve never seen a man weep before – heart-wrenching sobs that came from the deepest part of his soul. I can’t even describe it to you."

Carol lowered her gaze to her hands, which had begun to tremble.

"This is the first time I’ve seen my brother cry, and his sobs tore straight through my heart. I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. I wanted to comfort him and find out what had hurt him so badly. I’m his sister, for heaven’s sake – he should be able to talk to me. But he didn’t want me anywhere near him and ordered me out of the apartment. I left, but 1 haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since."

A tear spilled out of the corner of Carol’s eye and left a moist trail down the side of her face.

"By the time I got home I was crying, too. I don’t know what to do anymore."

Carol’s throat thickened. "There’s nothing you can do. This is something Steve has to work out himself."

"Can’t you talk to him?" Lindy pleaded. "He loves you so much and it’s eating him alive."

"It won’t do any good." Carol spoke from bitter experience.

"How can two people who obviously love each other let this happen?"

"I wish I knew." Carol’s voice dropped to a whispered sob.

"What about Steve and the baby?"

"He doesn’t want to have anything to do with this pregnancy. That’s his decision, Lindy."

"But it’s the wrong one! Surely you can get him to realize that."

She shook her head sadly. "Once Steve decides on something, his mind is set. He’s too stubborn to listen to reason."

"But you love him."

"I wish I could deny that, but I do care about him, with all my heart. Unfortunately that doesn’t change a thing."

"How can you walk away from him like this?"

Carol’s heart constricted with pain. "I’ve never left Steve. Not once. He’s always been the one to walk away."

Chapter Eleven

"I’d do anything I could to make things right between me and Steve," Carol told Lindy, "but it isn’t possible anymore."

"Why not?" Lindy pleaded. Carol knew it was hard for Lindy to understand when her own recent marriage was thriving. "You’re both crazy in love with each other."

The truth in that statement was undeniable. Although Steve believed her capable of breaking her wedding vows and the worst kind of deceit, he continued to love her. For her part, Carol had little pride when it came to her ex-husband. She should have cut her losses the minute he’d accused her of having an affair, walked away from her and filed for the divorce. Instead she’d spent the next year of her life in limbo, licking her wounds, pretending the emotional scars had healed. It had taken Christmas Eve to show her how far she still had to go to get over loving Steve Kyle.

"You can’t just walk away from him," Lindy pleaded. "What about the baby?"

"Steve doesn’t want anything to do with my daughter."

"Give him time, Carol. You know Steve probably better than anyone. He can be such a stubborn fool sometimes. It just takes awhile for him to come to his senses. He’ll wake up one morning and recognize the truth about the baby."

"I have to forget him for my own sanity." Carol stood, delivered her empty iced-tea glass to the kitchen and prepared to leave. There wasn’t anything Lindy could say that would change the facts. Yes, she did love Steve and probably always would, but that didn’t alter what he believed.

Lindy followed her to the front door. "If you need something, anything at all, please call me."

Carol nodded. "I will."

"Promise?"

"Promise." Carol knew that Lindy realized how difficult it was for her to ask for help. Impulsively she hugged Steve’s sister. From now on, Lindy would be her only link to Steve and Carol was grateful for the friendship they shared.

Steve had to get out of the apartment before he went crazy. He’d spent the past few days drowning his misery in a bottle and the only thing it had brought him was more pain.

He showered, shaved and dressed. Walking would help clear his mind.

With no real destination in mind, he headed toward the waterfront. He got as far as Pike Place Market and aimlessly wandered among the thick crowds there. The colorful sights of the vegetable and meat displays and the sounds of cheerful vendors helped lift his spirits.

He bought a crisp, red Delicious apple and ate it as he ambled toward the booths that sold various craft items designed to attract the tourist trade. He paused and examined a sculpture made of volcanic ash from Mount Saint Helens. Another booth sold scenic photos of the Pacific Northwest, and another, thick, hand-knit Indian sweaters.

"Could I interest you in something?" a friendly older woman asked. Her long silver hair framed her face, and she offered him a wide smile.

"No thanks, Pm just looking." Steve paused and glanced over the items on her table. Sterling silver jewelry dotted a black velvet cloth – necklaces, earrings and rings of all sizes and shapes.

"You can’t buy silver anywhere for my prices," the woman said.

"It’s very nice."

"If jewelry doesn’t interest you, perhaps these will." She stood and pulled a box of silver objects from beneath the table, lifting it up for him to inspect.

The first thing Steve noticed was a sterling-silver piggy bank. He smiled recalling how he and Carol had dumped their spare change in a piggy bank for months in an effort to save enough for a vacation to Hawaii. They’d spent it instead for the closing costs on the house.

"This is a popular item," the woman told him, bringing out a baby rattle. "Lots of jewelry stores sell these, but no one can beat my prices."

"How much?" Steve couldn’t believe he’d asked. What the hell would he do with a baby rattle – especially one made of sterling silver.

The woman stated a reasonable price. "I’ll take it," he said, astonished to hear the words come out of his mouth.

"Would you like one with blue ribbon or pink?"

Already Steve regretted the impulse. What was he planning to do? Give it to Carol? He’d decided the best thing for him to do as far as his ex-wife was concerned was to never see her again.

"Sir? Blue or pink?"

"Blue," he answered in a hoarse whisper. For the son he would probably never father. Blue for the color of Carol’s eyes when she smiled at him.

By the time Steve walked back to the apartment, the sack containing the silver baby rattle felt like it weighed thirty pounds. By rights, he thought, he should toss the silly thing in the garbage. But he didn’t.

He set it on the kitchen counter and opened the refrigerator, looking for something to eat, but nothing interested him. When he turned, the rattle seemed to draw his gaze. He stared at it for a long moment, yearning strongly to press it into the hand of his own child.

Blood thundered in his ears and his heart pounded so hard and fast that his chest ached. He would save the toy for Lindy and Rush whenever they had children, he decided.

Feeling only slightly better, he moved into the living room and turned on the television. He reached for the TV Guide, flipped through the pages, sighed and turned off the set. A second later, he rushed to his feet.

He didn’t know who the hell he was trying to kid. That silver rattle with the pretty blue ribbon was for Carol and her baby, and it was going to torment him until he got rid of it.

He could mail her the toy and be done with the plaything. Or have Lindy give it to her without letting Carol know it had come from him. Or… or he could just set it on the porch and let her find it.

The last idea appealed to him. He would casually drive by her neighborhood, park his car around the block and wait until it was dark enough to sneak up and leave the rattle on the front step. He was the last person she would ever suspect would do something like that.

With his plan formulated, Steve drove to Carol’s house. He was half a block away from her place when he noticed her car. She was leaving. This would work out even better. He could follow her and when she got where she was going, he could place the rattle inside her car. That way she would assume someone had mistaken her car for their own and inadvertently set the rattle inside. There wasn’t anything she could do but take it home with her.

Carol headed north on Interstate 5, and her destination was a matter of simple deduction. She was going to the Northgate Mall. Lord, that woman loved to shop. The minute she steered onto the freeway on-ramp, Steve knew exactly where she was headed. They’d been married for five years, and their year apart hadn’t changed her. The smug knowledge produced a smile.

But Carol exited before the mall.

Steve’s heart started to pound. He was three cars behind her, but if she wasn’t going shopping, he didn’t know what she was planning. Maybe she was rendezvousing with Todd. Maybe all those times she’d told him she was shopping Carol had actually been meeting with her employer. The muscles in his stomach clenched into a knot so tight and painful that it stole his breath.

If there’d been any way to turn the car around, Steve would have done it, but he was trapped in the center lane of traffic and forced to follow the heavy flow.

It wasn’t until they’d gone several blocks that Steve noticed the back side of the mall. Perhaps she’d found a shortcut and had never bothered to tell him about it.

Carol turned onto a busy side street, and against his better judgment, he followed her. A few minutes later, when Carol turned into the large parking lot at Northgate Mall, Steve felt almost giddy with relief.

She parked close to the J.C. Penney store, and Steve eased his vehicle into a slot four spaces over. On a whim, he decided to follow her inside. He’d always wondered what women found so intriguing about shopping.

He was far enough behind her on the escalator to almost lose her. Standing at the top, he searched until he found her standing in women’s fashions, sorting through a rack of dresses. It took him a minute to realize they were maternity dresses. Although she’d lost several pounds, she must be having difficulty finding things that fit her, he realized. According to his calculations, she was five months pregnant – probably closer to six.