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Noah And The Stork
Penny McCusker
This Stork Was Nine Years Late!When Noah Bryant returns home to Erskine, Montana, he's not anticipating a hero's welcome. After all, he abandoned the town–and his high school girlfriend–right after the prom and hasn't spoken to anyone there since. But the last person he expects to meet is his nine-year-old daughter, Jessie…a daughter he didn't know he had.When Noah returns, Janey realizes she never really stopped loving him. And he seems eager to be a part of Jessie's life, and hers. But Noah's back in Erskine for more than personal reasons; he has a business proposition that could seriously affect the whole town. And if there's anything Janey loves as much as her family, it's Erskine.
“You’re a mom?” Noah said
Not that he couldn’t see Janey as a mom. He could think of no one who loved children more or would be better at raising them than Janey. It was simply that in his mind she was still seventeen, still carefree and single, not a grown woman with a kid around eight or nine years old.…
Jessie turned around right then and Noah found himself looking into a pair of green eyes, the kind of green eyes he’d seen every morning of his life, staring back at him from his own mirror. His gaze rose, slowly, to meet Janey’s, suspicion oozing into the tiny part of his brain that shock hadn’t paralyzed.
Janey pulled her daughter against her, wrapping her arms around the thin shoulders. The truth Noah saw in her eyes slid into uncertainty, then misery when he didn’t speak.
Jessie glanced up at her mom, then simply and confidently stepped out of the shelter of Janey’s arms. She stopped halfway between the two adults, fixed Noah with a stare that was almost too direct to return and said, “I’m Jessie. Are you my dad?”
Dear Reader,
Welcome back to Erskine, Montana, where the streets roll up promptly at 6:00 p.m., neighbors still come together to lend a hand in times of need, and gossip is as much a way of life as baseball and apple pie. Erskine’s not perfect by a long shot, but Janey Walters loves it just the way it is.
She grew up there, she fell in love with Noah Bryant there and she had her daughter, Jessie, there. Noah is Jessie’s father, but he left town before he knew Jessie was on the way. That was ten years ago. He’s back now, but he isn’t the only one who’s getting a surprise. He has big plans for the little town that Janey loves and he couldn’t wait to leave.
The townspeople are like a large, eccentric, extended family to Janey and Jessie, and Erskine is their home. But as Noah becomes a part of his daughter’s life and earns himself a place in Janey’s heart again, is she willing to trade the town she’s always loved for the real family she and Jessie have always wanted?
Reunion stories are some of my favorites. I hope you truly enjoy Janey, Noah and Jessie’s story.
Penny McCusker
Noah and the Stork
Penny McCusker
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
For my husband, Michael, and my kids, Mike, Erin and Ian. Because you put up with me.
Books by Penny McCusker
HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE
1063—MAD ABOUT MAX
Contents
Chapter One (#u298fc93a-9dd4-5687-9049-add8ef5146e4)
Chapter Two (#u2ec040c0-acc3-554a-a4a5-bc08e11535de)
Chapter Three (#u5b9dfa67-65a8-5975-82ab-0220c4d71450)
Chapter Four (#ub05d4be0-fea6-5f5d-8e52-cc12ec26033b)
Chapter Five (#u02c47288-bbda-5ba7-a26a-a4ba0f170360)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One
Men were generally a pain in the neck, Janey Walters thought, but there were times when they came in handy. Like when your house needed a paint job, or your kitchen floor could use refinishing, or your car was being powered by what sounded like a drunk tap dancer with a thirst for motor oil.
Or when you woke in the middle of the night, alone and aching with needs that went way beyond physical, into realms best left to Hallmark and American Greetings. Whoever wrote those cards managed to say everything there was to say about love in a line or two. Janey didn’t even like to think about the subject anymore. Thinking about it made her yearn, yearning made her hopeful, and hope, considering her track record with the opposite sex, was a waste of energy.
She set her paintbrush on top of the can and climbed to her feet. She’d been sitting on the front porch for the past hour, slapping paint on the railings, wondering if the petty violence of it might exorcise the sense of futility that had settled over her as of late. All she’d managed to do was polka-dot everything in the vicinity—the lawn and rosebushes, the porch floor and herself—which only made more work for her and did nothing to solve the real problems.
And boy, did she have problems. No more than any other single mom who lived in a house that was a century old, with barely enough money to keep up with what absolutely had to be fixed, never mind preventive maintenance. And thankfully, Jessie was a normal nine-year-old girl—at least she seemed well-adjusted, despite the fact that her father had never been, and probably never would be, a part of her life.
It only seemed worse to Janey now that her best friend had gotten married. But then, Sara had been waiting six years for Max to figure out he loved her, and Janey would never have wished for a different outcome. She and Sara still worked together, and talked nearly every day, so it wasn’t as if anything had really changed in Janey’s life. It just felt…emptier somehow.
She put both hands on the small of her aching back and stretched, letting her head fall back and breathing deeply, in and out, until she felt some of the frustration and loneliness begin to fade away.
“Now there’s a sight for sore eyes.”
Janey gasped, straightening so fast she all but gave herself whiplash. That voice…Heat moved through her, but the cold chill that snaked down her spine won hands down. It couldn’t be him, she told herself. He couldn’t simply show up at her house with no warning, no time to prepare.
“The best scenery in town was always on this street.”
She peeked over her shoulder, and the snappy comebacks she was famous for deserted her. So did the unsnappy come-backs and all the questions she should’ve been asking. She couldn’t have strung a coherent sentence together if the moment had come with subtitles. She was too busy staring at the man standing on the other side of her wrought-iron fence.
His voice had changed some; it was deeper, with a gravelly edge that seemed to rasp along her nerve endings. But there was no mistaking that face, not when it had haunted her memories—good and bad—for more than a decade. “Noah Bryant,” Janey muttered, giving him a nice, slow once-over.
He was taller than she remembered, and had a solid, substantial look to him now. In high school he’d been lanky, slim but wide-shouldered with a bad-boy gleam in his sharp green eyes that made every female heart within range tumble just a little. Except hers, Janey recalled. Her heart had taken the whole long, irrevocable fall the first time she’d laid eyes on him. That would’ve been the fourth grade. And she’d stayed madly in love with him, right up to the moment he’d blasted out of town without so much as a backward glance.
Ten years ago, that had been. She hadn’t seen him since, but all the times she’d imagined this scene, it had never gone down like this, with him in a suit that probably cost more than she made in a month, while she was decked out in the latest in janitor chic. She reached up to pull the bandanna from her head, then decided against it; flat hair would only complete the fashion statement. “You swore you’d never come back to Erskine.”
And there was the grin that went along with the gleam. “Things change.”
“Really? You never could keep your word.”
His smile dimmed. “Still haven’t forgiven me, I see.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” She pulled her bandanna off, after all, to brush at the droplets that had splashed onto her legs. Who was she trying to impress, anyway? A guy who’d claimed to love her a decade ago and then hightailed it out of town without even telling her why? “You haven’t crossed my mind in years.”
“Well, I’ve thought of you, Janey. You’re the one pleasant memory I have of this place.”
“Yeah, this is hell on earth,” she said, peering up and down the quiet street. Hundred-year old houses with perfectly manicured lawns and gardens sat behind white-picket or wrought-iron fences. Most of them were businesses now, all but her house and Mrs. Halliwell’s, across the street and a couple down. To him, Erskine, Montana, was tame, boring, forgettable. To Janey it was simply home. “No wonder you couldn’t wait to get out of here.”
“I’ve always regretted the way things ended between us.”
Regret? He had no idea what that meant. She glanced over her shoulder even though she knew the front door was safely closed, and then she went down the stairs to be absolutely sure her voice wouldn’t carry inside. “Yeah, well, they did end, so why are you here?” she asked, taking a stance on the front walk, one hip cocked, arms crossed, chin lifted. Noah seemed to get some amusement out of it, judging by his slight smile, but it made her feel stronger.
“I was passing through on business and when I saw you…”
All she had to do was look at him and he got the message. He wasn’t stupid, just untrustworthy.
“I guess I should head out,” he said, but instead of leaving, he had the audacity to step up to the fence and offer his hand.
Janey was going to take it, too. There was no way she’d back down from the challenge she saw in his eyes, no matter what it might cost her to actually put her hand in his. She took a step forward, then stopped short at the sound of her daughter’s voice.
“Mom,” Jessie called, racketing out the front door and down the steps, jumping the last three as had become her habit. She hit the ground and barreled into her mother—another new habit—practically knocking Janey off her feet. “Mrs. Devlin called. They’re riding out to bring in the spring calves this weekend, and she asked if I want to go along. She said I could take the bus home with Joey tomorrow and spend the night, if it’s okay with you.”
“Mom?” Noah said, his jaw dropping. Not that he couldn’t see her as a mom; he couldn’t think of anyone who loved children more or would be better at raising them than Janey. It was only that, in his mind, she was still seventeen, still carefree and single, not a grown woman with a kid eight or nine years old….
Jessie turned around then and Noah found himself looking into a pair of green eyes, the kind of green eyes he’d seen every morning of his life, staring back at him from his own mirror. His gaze lifted, slowly, to meet Janey’s, suspicion oozing into the tiny part of his brain that shock hadn’t paralyzed.
Janey pulled the kid back against her, wrapping her arms around the girl’s thin shoulders. The truth Noah saw on her face slid into uncertainty, then misery when he didn’t speak. They stood that way for a moment, eyes locked, nerves strained, enough emotional baggage between them to make Sigmund Freud feel overworked.
The kid came to everyone’s rescue. She glanced up at her mom, then confidently stepped out of the shelter of Janey’s arms. She stopped halfway between the two adults, fixed Noah with a stare that was almost too direct to return, and said, “I’m Jessie. Are you my dad?”
NOAH FOUND HIMSELF still at the curb in front of Janey’s house, sitting in his car with no clear idea how he’d gotten there except that raw fury had something to do with it. By the time he fought through the red haze blurring his vision, the dashboard clock told him a couple of hours had passed. The day was no more than a pale crescent over the mountains and lights were burning in Janey’s windows. Homey, inviting lights that weren’t meant to make him feel like an outsider. But he did. He always had, his entire life. Some people would say that nobody could make you feel inferior without your own permission, but when you were the kid of a dirt-poor farmer in cattle country, and you moved to a town like Erskine where the people knew each other so well they were like family, ostracism was the least of what you felt.
Janey had been the one person he’d counted on to always stand by him, whether they were a couple or just good friends, even if it meant bucking the opinion of the entire town. He’d come back to town believing that hadn’t changed. But all these years she’d shut him out, making a home for herself and her daughter in this small, close-knit community. Without him.
It wasn’t fair of him to see it that way but he didn’t care. He needed to be angry, because without the strength of that emotion, he’d have to feel the hurt and betrayal—weak emotions that would make it impossible to face her again. And he had to face her again, if for no other reason than that she owed him an explanation about his daughter.
His half-grown daughter.
Noah wasn’t sure how he felt about that. Except scared. And angry.
He let the injustice of the secret Janey had kept carry him to her front door, three inches of solid, sound-deadening oak with a nice, big dead bolt. He’d kick it in if he had to.
Janey opened it before he could even knock, stepping out on the porch and closing the door softly behind her. “I think it would be best if you didn’t come in.”
“You can’t expect me to walk away.”
“I’m not expecting you to walk away, Noah. Just give yourself some time to calm down.”
“And what about Jessie? The kid’s been wondering where I’ve been all her life, and the minute I show up you hustle her off like I’m some kind of maniac.”
“If you’d seen the expression on your face, you’d have done the same.”
“Okay, so I’m steamed. But it can’t be good—”
“Don’t you dare lecture me on what’s good for Jessie. You haven’t been around—”
“How was I supposed to know?”
“I called you when…when I found out I was pregnant. I left you a message.” She stopped, wrapping her arms around herself.
Noah got the impression she was fighting back tears—but that was absurd. The Janey he remembered never cried.
“You didn’t return my call,” she finally finished.
“You should’ve kept calling.”
“That was my responsibility, too? To hound you until guilt brought you back here when love couldn’t? It’s not bad enough that I had to tell my father and see the disappointment—” This time her voice did break.
Noah took a step forward, just one, before she took a step back and he remembered that all he should be feeling toward her was anger.
It didn’t take her long to get herself together. Janey was nothing if not strong. “What would you have done?” she asked him. “Given up college, forgotten all your plans for a big career and settled here?”
“You didn’t give me the chance.”
“No, you didn’t give us a chance, Noah. You walked out with no goodbye, no explanation and now you stand there and tell me I should’ve dragged you back out of responsibility when it was clear you didn’t want me? You knew me better than that.”
Yes, he did. Janey wouldn’t have begged, but when she’d called him all those years ago, he’d let himself believe she was going to do exactly that. He’d told himself that she loved him enough to swallow her pride and ask him to come back. He’d never imagined she might have another reason for contacting him—his ego hadn’t allowed it—so he hadn’t contacted her. And he’d thought he was being so noble, that if he really loved her he’d let her go because that was best for her. “Janey—”
She held up a hand. “That’s behind us now, and I’d rather not rehash it, if you don’t mind.”
“No,” he said after a contemplative moment. There was no use rehashing it, and what could he have said? That there’d been regrets? That he’d often wished he’d made different choices, burned fewer bridges? What good would it do them now? “We have a daughter. That matters.”
Hearing it put like that shocked her. Her expression didn’t give her away, but she stiffened and even in the deepening gloom of the covered porch, he could tell all the color had washed out of her face. The last of his anger faded. He’d just discovered he had a daughter, but it must, Noah realized, have taken a great deal of courage for Janey to even open her front door, knowing that no matter how he reacted, she’d have to deal with it and then help Jessie do the same.
“We can stand out here,” he said, slapping at a sudden sting on his neck, “or we can go inside.”
