Out of the Depths

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHANCE PAUSED FOR A MINUTE before he got out of the car. Never had he imagined sitting here again, in this driveway, in front of this house.

The small, green tract home hadn’t changed much. The crack running through the middle of the front stoop had never been patched. The shutter to the left of Kyndal’s bedroom window still hung slightly askew. The giant maple tree that shaded the entire front yard had given up its leaves, covering the area in a blanket of red and yellow just as it always had.

And Kyndal was waiting for him inside.

When she’d called yesterday and asked him to come to dinner, he’d almost said no. But somehow the word had become yes even against his better judgment.

He’d finally gone back to work and gotten his mind off the time they spent together. Hell, he’d even had a date Saturday night. A bad one that had gone nowhere and ended early, but a date just the same.

Then Kyndal called. Her voice sounded odd, and when he’d commented on it, she’d said she was fine. It was a lie—something wasn’t fine. She’d moved back to Paducah and into her mother’s house.

Concern had brought him here—and maybe curiosity. Did she want to rekindle their relationship, after all—want to renege on the things she’d said in the hospital?

He reached to loosen his tie and realized he wasn’t wearing one.

She was the one who’d said they’d moved on, but sitting in this driveway had him doubting her words. He had moved on, but Kyndal was spinning her wheels.

He should’ve said no to dinner. Nothing good could come of it. Well, the dinner would be good, but hooking up with Kyndal again—big mistake.

Still, this was Kyndal. It would be easier for him to fly to the top of that giant maple tree than to say no to her.

He pushed the door open, snatching the bag of peanut M&M’s from the passenger seat as he climbed out.

The pleasant sound of crunching leaves filled his ears, so he didn’t know the door had opened until he started to knock. And then the sound of her “Hi” replaced the crunch of the leaves and the sight of her filled his eyes—a one-two punch that took his breath away.

He’d never seen her so radiant.

“You look fantastic, Kyn.” He brushed his lips to hers in greeting, weighing her reaction to see if she expected something more substantial.

She stepped back away from him. “Thanks for coming.”

A tantalizing aroma suffused the living room with the floral sofa and blue recliner he remembered so well. “Mmm. Lasagna.”

“Your favorite. At least, it used to be.”

It was then that he noticed the wary look lurking behind her green eyes and the tiniest hint of tightness around the lips he’d just kissed.

Dressed simply with her hair loose and shimmering around her shoulders and a pair of jeans with a yellow shirt covering an emerald-green camisole, she seemed to glow, and things started to fall into place in his mind.

She’d no doubt chosen the look—the colors that would enhance her skin tone, the form-fitting jeans that showed off her curves, the hair style that captured light in its strands—for his benefit.

And, of course, there was the lasagna.

The little minx was set on seducing him…again.

And there was no way he could say no to Kyndal.

Might as well enjoy myself.

He held out the yellow bag he’d kept behind his back. “These are for you.”

Immediately the night began to crumble before his eyes.

Instead of the snort of laughter he’d expected, her eyes filled with tears and she limped toward the kitchen at a surprisingly fast speed.

Or maybe not.

“I’m sorry, Kyn.” He followed her through the arched doorway, dropping the bag on the sofa table as he passed. “It was just a joke. I didn’t mean to imply that I actually thought we would…”

She jerked the oven door open and pulled out a small pan of lasagna, setting it on a trivet on the counter. Grabbing a baguette, she used it to point to the bowl sitting next to where he stood. “Would you toss the salad? Dressing’s there.” She waggled the baguette like a weapon, warning him to keep his distance. “Chianti’s there if you want some. It’s the cheap kind, but they told me it wasn’t bad. Glass is there.”

Okay, now she was acting really strangely. No mention of the cave or the hospital. No comments about the past and the irony of them being here together. She was rushing him into a dinner she invited him over for. If she wasn’t going to seduce him—and that didn’t seem to be on

her agenda—what in the hell was going on? Had she had some kind of breakdown?

He opted for a glass of wine to enhance his mood before he tossed the salad. He picked up the bottle, which hadn’t been opened, and noticed she’d only set out one glass.

She read his mind. “I already have a drink.”

She took a gulp of what looked like soda, slid the baguette into the oven and slammed the door.

“Look, Kyn.” Chance poured some of the wine into his glass and swirled it around. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad.” She pushed a stray hair out of her face and leaned her hip against the oven door. “I’m just overemotional these days. Since the cave.”

So maybe she had experienced some post-traumatic stress. “That’s to be expected, don’t you think?” He took a sip of the Chianti, which would’ve earned a minus ten rating from Wine Spectator, and managed not to grimace. “I’ve had a few days like that myself. It has to do with facing mortality, I think.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Kyndal turned her back to him and started tossing the salad he’d forgotten.

Strange that she’d invited him here, yet was obviously uncomfortable by his presence. He moved to the end of the counter to attempt eye contact while he continued to probe. “Does moving back here mean you got the job?”

“Not yet, but I’m still in the running.”

Damn! No wonder she was depressed. “Sounds promising,” he said.

She scurried past him to place the salad on the table, then came back for the stack of plates, silverware and napkins.

“I do have a job, though. Starting Friday, I’m going to be taking shots of animals with Santa at that big pet store across from the mall.”

Chance’s heart sank for her, and he wasn’t sure which left a worse aftertaste—her news or the bad wine. He tried to force some enthusiasm into his voice. “Well, that should be…interesting.”

“It’ll get me through until I start at the magazine.”

That was the most chipper he’d heard her since he walked in, and it coaxed a genuine smile from him. “What are you doing for Thanksgiving?” He decided to keep up the small talk figuring eventually he’d hit on whatever it was that had put this bug up her ass.

“Jaci’s having me over.” She concentrated on pouring some olive oil into two dipping bowls and getting them safely to the table. “You can sit here,” she instructed, as if he’d forgotten the seat he’d occupied for two years in this kitchen.

Chance ignored her order and got the drinks, while she put the hot bread in a basket and brought it and the lasagna to the table.

When all was ready, he pulled out her chair and got her settled before he sat down. Raising his glass, he had to think fast to come up with something not-too-corny, yet appropriate. It came to him—the perfect toast for tonight. “To life.” He clinked his glass to hers and watched her bottom lip quiver so hard she caught it between her teeth. She sat her glass down without drinking and ran her hand over her face.

“What is it, Kyndal?” He leaned forward and brushed his fingertips across her hand that sat on the table now, visibly trembling. “Tell me.”

She locked her eyes with his and blew out a long breath. “I’m pregnant.”

The force of the word pushed him to the back of his chair. “Pregnant?” he repeated, as if it were a foreign word he wasn’t familiar with.

“Six weeks.”

He did the math. “The…the cave.”

She nodded.

“You told me you were on the Pill.” Her pained expression made him regret his accusing tone.

“I was, but I didn’t have them with me those four days. I didn’t think it would matter.” She shrugged. “It did.”

“Hell, yes, it did.” He drained his glass of wine, keeping the last bit in his mouth so he had a reason to not speak as he gave his brain time to adjust.

Oh, my God…a baby. As of that moment, his world changed forever, and she handed him the news with a pan of lasagna, a glass of wine and a freakin’ shrug? He remembered how she’d waltzed into his hospital room and presented him with a release. Hell! He was the attorney! Then she’d traipsed out of his room with a nonchalant, devil-may-care, to-hell-with-the-world ta-ta…or its damn equivalent. A blasé attitude seemed to be her modus operandi these days. Was she even ready to be a mother or he, a father? His world teetered.

“I’m sorry, Chan—”

“Sorry?” He fought the rising tide of panic in his chest. “You didn’t step on my toe or scratch my car. This is a baby we’re talking about. My baby.”

Kyndal lifted her chin. “It’s our baby. And I’m not sorry about the baby. I’m sorry about telling you this way. I just found out for sure yesterday…”

“You’ve been to the doctor?”

She nodded. “I did a home pregnancy test Saturday and called the doctor Monday morning. They got me in right away.”

“So you’ve known this since Saturday and didn’t tell me until now?”

She gritted her teeth. “I didn’t know for sure until yesterday, and if it turned out to be a false positive, there was no point in getting you all riled up.”

“I’m not ‘all riled up’!”

She quirked an infuriating eyebrow.

“How can you sit there so calmly? We’re going to have a child.” He poured another glass of wine and took a swig, his brain lurching from one extreme to the other, from excitement to anxiety…from joy to trepidation. The responsibility she’d just placed in his hands was mind-blowing. “You’re going to need prenatal care, healthy food…” He looked around the kitchen wondering if she had enough to eat in the cabinets. “Doctor’s appointments. Furniture. Clothes.”

He tried to estimate the cost in his mind. Would he need to cancel the contractor working on the house?

“Don’t worry. I’ll manage.”

She obviously hadn’t thought this through, and her complacency irritated him. “How are you going to take care of all that and yourself and the baby? You don’t even have a job to speak of. Taking Christmas shots of pets? What kind of half-assed job is that?”

Her breath stuttered. A tear slid from the corner of her eye, but she swiped it away, hurt quickly replaced by an angry glare.

“I’m sorry to be so blunt, Kyn, but you know it’s the truth, and one of us has to be logical about this.”

Logic was all he had to hang on to at the moment because it felt like the floor had dropped out from under him. His career in politics…his future judgeship. Everything suddenly slipped out of focus and all he could think about was the baby. Shared custody? Passing the child back and forth and somehow making it all jive with his work schedule? He didn’t want to be a part-time dad. He wanted the baby in his life at all times. Being in a constant state of worry about where Kyndal and the child were and if they were safe…he couldn’t stand the thought.

“There’s only one way for us to be certain the baby’s taken care of the way it should be.” He used his closing arguments’ voice. “We have to get married.”

* * *

IT WASN’T SUPPOSED to be this way.

Chance’s wording set off warning sirens in Kyndal’s head. It was the same phrase her mom always used to rationalize Mason Rawlings’s disappearance from their lives. “Your dad and I had to get married. He just wasn’t ready to settle down yet.”

Chance’s admission in the cave screeched into her brain. He’d felt the same way…not ready to settle down…smothered by their relationship…unable to breathe. Trapped.

And at his house that day before they went to the cave, he’d talked about having a family someday, but had reacted with horror at the idea of now. By his own admission, he wasn’t ready.

Kyndal remembered what it felt like to be trapped, constantly searching for the way out.

And there was a way out. Mason Rawlings had taken it. All of her stepdads had taken it. Even Chance had taken it years ago.

They had to get married? No talk of love. No talk of commitment. All he wanted was a way to get everything taken

care of.

Hell, he had one foot out the door already.

“Marriage is out of the question.” She kept her face and tone carefully neutral lest he think she was being overly emotional.

“Out of the question? I don’t think I posed it as a question.”

“Regardless of how you posed it, I don’t want to marry you. I won’t marry you. Not for the baby and certainly not for the convenience.” She took a relieved sip of her drink when he showed no awareness of her slip of the tongue.

Since Saturday, all kinds of scenarios of telling him about the baby filled her dreams.

In her favorite one, Chance was ecstatic at her news. He swept her into his arms and twirled her around. He swore his love and undying devotion before dropping to his knee and proposing. She saw the conviction in his eyes when he swore he’d never, ever leave her again, and she knew he was telling the truth.

In the worst one, he turned around and walked out the door without a word or a look back.

This was somewhere in between and hadn’t shown up in any of the dreams. She would have to wing it.

Chance’s mouth opened, but he snapped it shut. The muscle in his jaw twitched with tension.

She composed herself and spoke again. “It’s very kind of you to offer, but—”

“Kind of me?” He leaned forward, his dark eyes blazing. “Who in the hell are you? Where is the Kyndal Rawlings I know? The one in the cave who…who…”

“Go ahead and say it. The one in the cave who seduced you. She promised there would be no clinging. No strings attached.” She leaned back to gain some distance from his penetrating eyes. “That’s me. That’s who I am. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time if you haven’t noticed, and I don’t need you or anybody else taking care of me and my baby now.”

“Our baby.”

“Yeah, our baby. We’ll be a team until you start feeling ‘smothered.’” She punctuated the word by forming quotation marks with her fingers. “Before long, you’ll be running for that judgeship or some other office. You’ll feel me holding you back and stifling you. You’ll have to step out for some fresh air so you can breathe and poof!” She blew out an exaggerated breath. “You’ll be gone just like before.”

“That’s not fair, Kyndal. I was young then—a kid.”

It was her turn to be incredulous. “It has nothing to do with age. It has to do with me! I’ve never been good enough for you, and my love has never been enough to hold you. You said I was your everything, which sounds like love, but you still left. If that was love, it was pretty ineffectual. And you think we can base a marriage on it?”

Chance stood up and pointed a finger in her face. “You wouldn’t know love—ineffectual or not—if it jumped up and bit you in the ass!”

Kyndal rallied from her chair and swatted his finger away. “Oh, really? And you would? Where would you have learned that? From your dad? The man who may not have left physically, but withdrew emotionally from your mom at the time when she needed him most? That may even be worse.”

“Seriously, Kyn? You want to talk about dads?” He leaned his face close to hers and held his chin in a thoughtful pose. “Well, you’re the expert, I guess. How many have you had?” He pretended to count on his fingers. “Hmm. Let’s see. Four legal ones and how many that stayed for a week or two? That string of men your mom paraded through your life has you royally screwed up!”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, William Chance Brennan.” Oh! She wanted to wipe that smart-ass smirk off his face, but she restrained herself and gave him a shove instead. “Get out.” She pointed toward the door.

He met her glare with an unwavering stance and silence.

Her body trembled, shaking her words loose on a shout. “I…said…get…out!”

A shadow darkened his face. Without a word, he turned and stalked across the room, slamming the door behind him.

Kyndal hobbled into the living room, her breath coming in ragged spurts as she watched Chance’s car back out of the driveway.

Anger and hurt and frustration all bubbled to the surface at the same time, converging into hot tears that scalded her cheeks.

“This isn’t the way it was supposed to be.” The grief of sudden loss made her dizzy, and she reached out to steady herself against the sofa table. Her hand fell on something soft and lumpy.

A yellow bag of peanut M&M’s.

In a gesture of raw emotion, she flung it across the room against the closed door. The force shattered the wrapper and sent a spray of rainbow-colored candy in all directions.

A perfect reflection of my life.