Even the best laid plans are subject to the whims of fate—and a soft heart. Jenny Harrison grabbed her list and the gallon-size baggie of cookies, whistled for the dog and rushed through the hedge separating the driveway from their neighbor's. With the golden retriever prancing at her heels, she breezed through Steve's back door, calling out, “Hey, Grant?”

“Kitchen.” Steve Grant leaned over his sink and bit a pickle. With his maroon silk tie tucked into his white dress shirt, he saluted her with the dill. “Lunch?”

“No thanks, we'll catch something on the road. Save room; I made your favorite, pecan chocolate chip.” She held up the cookies.

Steve took the bag and groaned. “They're still warm. You didn't have to do that.”

She waved aside his thanks. “Yes I did. We really appreciate your taking care of Ritz and the house. With the trial ramping up, I know you're really busy.”

“No problem.” He polished off the pickle and reached for a cookie.

Jenny winced. Dill pickle and chocolate? Gross. Shaking her head, she lay down the list. “Here's the number of the Saugatuck Inn—in case of an emergency—though we'll both have our cells.” She frowned and craned her head to read the upside down list. “And . . . you have a key to the house—we won't set the alarm, there should be plenty of dog food in the garage, I stopped the newspapers, but need you pick up the mail.” She looked up. “Questions?”

“Jen, you're only gone three and a half days.” Then at her steady look, he sighed. “Got it.”

“Gotta run. I'm late.” Jenny whirled and tossed over her shoulder. “Thanks.”

“Have fun. Hey, Jen,” she turned and looked at Steve. “Good luck.”

Out of the corner of her eye she glimpsed her husband's red station wagon pulling up their driveway.

“Thanks.” Jenny rushed out the door and trotted to her jeep. She faced Gabe with a big smile. “Hi.”

Gabe walked over and planted a quick kiss on her lips. “Ready to go?”

She reached out and took his hand. “Car's all packed, but first I have a tiny favor to ask.”

“Tiny, eh?”

She nodded. “Hardly anything at all.”

“Great. Shoot.”

“Would you mind very much stopping by the clinic on the way out?”

“Be-cause . . .”

“Because . . . I sort of promised Tommy you'd take a look at his little brother.”

“Tommy?”

“The fourteen-year-old boy I interviewed for the foster care article. His little brother and sister live with their grandma and Tommy's little brother's been sick for the past week. Grandma works as a cleaning lady and doesn't have insurance, so she won't take the boy to the doctor.”

“So you told Tommy I'd examine him.”

“I did.” Jenny scrunched up her face. “Do you mind very much? It shouldn't take very long and it's on the way. I was hoping that if I got a chance to talk to the grandma, I could help her to see the clinic isn't such a bad place.”

Gabe put a warm hand to the back of her neck. “Of course not. Why aren't the kids all living together?”

“Mom's a druggie living on the streets. The boys have different fathers and Grandma is the little guy's not Tommy's.”

“So? If she's willing to take all the kids . . .”

“Grandma thinks he's better off with the foster family.”

“What time are we supposed to meet them?”

Jenny looked at her watch. “Eleven forty-five—shoot, we're late.”

Jenny ran around the jeep and jumped in. They drove down Lakeshore drive, from the huge century-old elms shading the Grosse Pointe neighborhoods into the stark, concrete city streets of Detroit .

Settling back in her seat, Jenny's eyes traveled the neighborhood, pausing on the occasional abandoned home where peeling white-framed windows highlighted dark gaping holes. A few windows had unbroken, grimy glass, but most held jagged broken panes looking like sharp wicked teeth in a monstrous dirty brick face. Green bushes and weeds grew three feet tall around the decaying buildings as if trying to hide the dangerous eyesores.

Jenny turned to Gabe wondering if the worn dereliction saddened him as it did her, or, since he drove this route once a week, had he become immune to the neglect? His expression gave nothing away.

Outside the one-story red brick clinic, Tommy stood beside an elderly lady with white hair and a ramrod straight back. She wore a dark woolen coat and no-nonsense shoes. A little girl, about five years-old clutched her hand while a boy about seven slumped against the woman as if exhausted.

“Hi guys.” Jenny smiled broadly and held out her hand to the woman. “You must be Tommy's grandmother, I'm Jenny and this is my husband, Gabe.”

The woman stared at her a minute, then looked at her hand, before slowly raising her own and shaking Jenny's. “Abigail Johnson. Tommy said you might could help Sammy here.”

“Why sure we can.” She smiled reassuringly at the little boy. Poor little guy's eyelids drooped over eyes dulled with pain. “Hi Sammy, I'm Jenny.”

“Miss Jenny,” Grandma corrected and gave the boy a raised eyebrow and a telling stare for emphasis.

Sammy's head rolled up and the edges of his lips rose in a weak smile. “Miss Jenny.”

Jenny turned and bent until she was face-to-face with the little girl. “I like your pigtails. What's your name?”

“Clarisse,” she whispered.

“Isn't that a pretty name?”

Gabe rested a hand on Jenny's back. “Why don't we move inside? Jenny will get the paperwork from Sharon, while I find us an empty exam room.”

Gabe urged the group towards the Plexiglas, bullet-proof door and they were quickly buzzed in by a thin, bespeckled guard sitting behind a scarred desk.

“Hi Doc. You workin' today?”

“Nope, just got a friend here I need to take care of and then we'll be out of your hair.”

Jenny ushered them towards the receptionist, stopping when she felt a tug on her arm. Abigail Johnson looked her in the eye. “I don't have money for this. Wish I did, but with the two little ones and . . . well—I just don't.”

“Grammy J, I told you, Miss Jenny said it's free,” Tommy broke in.

She scowled at him. “Hush now. I'm talkin' to Miss Jenny.”

Jenny leaned close. “Please, it's just Jenny. Don't worry, Mrs. Johnson, he's right; it is free. We just need you to fill out some forms, but there's no charge.”

She nodded and put a bony hand on Jenny's arm, squeezing. “You can call me Grammy J.”

Jenny smiled. She'd never had a grandma she remembered, and this stern old lady warmed her heart. Jenny seated her charges and got the new patient forms from the receptionist. She handed the clipboard of papers to Grammy J.

Her nostrils flared wider than push pins and her knee bounced so hard Jenny imagined little Clarisse's eyeballs rattling around in the poor mite's head would give her permanent eye damage—that is if she didn't catapult off her grandma's knees. After a few seconds, Grammy J passed the clip board to Tommy. “I can't concentrate.”

Tommy obediently took the forms and slowly, with meticulous hand writing began to fill them out. Occasionally he whispered a question to Grammy J, who murmured an answer. Gabe came out and ushered Sammy into an examine room.

“Mrs. Johnson, would you like to come too?”

“No I'll keep an eye on this one. Tommy'll go along.” She grabbed Sammy's thin arm. “You do what the doctor says, hear?”

“Yes, Ma'am,” he muttered. Sammy slipped his hand into his brother's and followed Gabe down the hall.

“I can watch Clarisse if you want to go with Sammy,” Jenny offered.

“Tommy'll do fine.”

“You've done a wonderful job with the children; they're very polite and sweet.”

Grammy J sighed, her eyes never leaving the hall her grandson disappeared down. “I try. It about tore me up to have to send Tommy away, but he's better off outta that neighborhood.” She looked at Jenny. “You know, you try to do the right thing. You take ‘em to church and try to raise them right, but with the gangs and the drugs, they just won't let ‘em be. Them kids were after Tommy for weeks to join up, but I sent him away. He's better off.”

“I'm sorry. It sounds like you're doing the right thing. I know Tommy misses his brother and sister, but the Thompsons are nice people and they make sure he visits with his siblings every couple of weeks.”

“Not enough,” Grandma J whispered. She looked sideways at Jenny. “You got kids?”

“Me?” Jenny's eyes popped wide and her mouth dropped open. “Stepchildren. But they're older and off at college.”

“None of your own?”

Jenny paused. “I . . . ” Not really. Not yet . “No. Children are a lot of responsibility.”

Her wooly head bobbed. “Amen to that.”

Jenny threw an arm around the older woman's shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze. “You're doing an awesome job, Grammy J.” She smiled and ducked her head to look at the five-year-old. “Isn't she?”

She nodded shyly.

“Would you like a juice Miss Clarisse?” At the enthusiastic nod, Jenny looked at Grammy J. “Can I get you both a juice, or perhaps you'd like coffee?”

“Juice is fine. Thank you, Jenny.”

Jenny went off to the kitchen to get drinks for the Johnsons. On her way back, she ran into Gabe and the boys.

“So will he live?” Jenny asked.

“Should.” Gabe looked at Grammy J. “He's got a pretty good ear infection going, but after a few days of antibiotics, he'll be fine. I'm just going to get the medicine, and then we can be on our way.”

Jenny handed out the juices, then with an arm on Tommy's shoulders, turned him aside. “How come you're not in school today, young man?”

“It's a service day.” He looked her straight in the face and lied.

Jenny raised an eyebrow. “You always wear your uniform on days off?”

Eyes wide, he tried to look innocent. “I forgot?”

Jenny smiled and shook her head, then looked at Grammy J. The older woman sat stiffly in the plastic chair; her knee still sprang fanatically, though Clarisse now sat beside her sipping her juice. She constantly scanned the near-empty waiting room as if expecting an attack. Poor thing couldn't have looked more uncomfortable.

“You know there are free programs to help her learn to read.”

“What?”

“She can learn to read; she's not too old.” Jenny looked in his eyes. “You can't always be there to help her.”

Tommy stood up tall and lifted his chin. “Who says she can't?”

“I says.”

“She's too proud,” he whispered.

“Maybe I can talk to her after I get back from vacation.”

“Maybe.” He gave her a considering look before breaking into a broad smile. “She likes you.”

“I like her too.”

Jenny looked up as Gabe approached. He gave Grammy J the medicine and explained the dosage, before turning to Jenny. “How about we give these nice people a ride home?”

Grammy J frowned. “We don't want to trouble you.”

Gabe held the door open for them. “No trouble at all. I insist.”

“Well, okay. Thank you.” She looked up with solemn eyes and nodded. “For everything.”

“You're very welcome.”

Jenny's heart crushed with pride. She caught Gabe's eye, mouthing, ‘I love you'.

He sent her a wink.

They piled into Jenny's Jeep Commander, dropped the Johnsons home and Tommy at school.

After Tommy disappeared behind the dark wooden doors, Jenny turned in her seat. “You're a good man, Gabriel Harrison.”

Gabe stretched out in the passenger's seat. “I try.”

She smiled at his glib answer. “I know how precious your free time is. Thanks for doing that for me.”

He gave her a warm look. “My pleasure.”

Some husbands would be seriously derailed at starting their vacation several hours late, because their wives committed them to a good deed, but not Gabe. Her husband was a sweetie, a real angel. “What would I do without you?”

He threaded his fingers through hers. “Don't worry; you're never gonna get the opportunity to find out.”

#

Driving down I-94 in her new sapphire blue Jeep, they sped past Detroit Metro airport before Jenny remembered the present. “Oh. With all the commotion, I forgot about your anniversary present. Look in the glove compartment.”

Gabe pulled out the flat, square gift. Though the distinctive shape pretty much precluded the reason for wrapping the CD, Jenny had chosen brightly colored paper and tied a stylish gold wire-rimmed bow around it. “Guess who.”

“Isn't the appropriate gift for a second anniversary, paper or tin foil, or something like that?”

“Close. Guess who.”

“Tim McGraw?”

“Would I get you my favorite singer as a present?”

“You got me headphones for Christmas so you could sleep while I watched TV in bed.”

“That's different,” she dismissed airily. “That was a gift to both of us. You get to watch the whole TV show in bed, and I don't have to harass you to turn it off when I want to go to sleep.”

“And that's different . . . How?”

“It's cheaper than marriage counseling,” she said in mock warning.

Gabe laughed and tore open the wrapping, revealing a classic Chuck Mangione recording. “Jazz. Great. Thanks, honey.” He reached out a hand to massage her shoulder. His fingers lingered at the nape of Jenny's neck and toyed with her hair.

“You're welcome. Why don't you pop it in?”

They drove west across Michigan to the relaxing sounds of the horn, while the tension lines eased from around Gabe's eyes. The hectic pace of his general surgery practice combined with his volunteering at the inner city clinic took its toll.

The breeze from the open window whipped Gabe's short hair. He propped one sneaker-clad foot on the dash and slumped deeper in his seat. He rummaged through the cooler for a Coke, opened it, and handed it to Jenny for a sip.

Before Benton Harbor , they turned north onto a less populated road. They drove up the coast, past near empty beaches, now lying dormant in the off season. Harbors sat quiet, where a few remaining boats waited patiently to be dry-docked and stored for the winter.

“Hey, Gabe?”

“Hmm.”

Jenny kept her eyes on the road. Her fingers flexed around the steering wheel. “What would you think of our having a baby?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his sharp glance. He paused a couple nerve-wracking seconds before answering. “I thought you didn't want children.”

“I know I said that, but . . . what if I do?”

“You were pretty emphatic about not wanting children, Jen.”

“I know,” she said in a conciliatory tone. “But I was a little overwhelmed—what with my job, and the wedding, and the house renovation. I really thought I didn't want kids. I figured I'd be busy enough with my career and being a wife and stepmother, but maybe I was wrong,” she finished softly.

“I got you Ritz.”

“A dog's not quite the same as a child.”

Gabe quietly considered her statement for what seemed like minutes. “So. You want a baby?”

I might already have one . Jenny kept her eyes on the road, afraid to look at him. Afraid of the anger and betrayal she might find in his face. Her grip tightened around the steering wheel until the tendons in her hand raised up and fanned out in four taut lines.

“I . . . yeah. You'd be a great dad. I mean, you're already a great dad to Alex and Ted, but I missed out on sharing those times with you. And being divorced, even you missed out on a lot.” She paused and peeked at him. “What do you think?”

Gabe sat in the seat with his eyes closed so long, she feared he'd gone to sleep. Only a rhythmic clenching of his jaw betrayed his feelings. Damn, this hadn't been the right time to bring it up.

“Gabe?” she ventured softly.

“I'll think about it.”

As if he could think of anything else—and he'd tried. Over the next two days, Gabe tried hard to let the fall country beauty distract him from Jenny's proposal. She didn't press the issue, which in itself made him nervous. Her continued silence indicated how serious she was about wanting this baby.

When Jenny wasn't interviewing the proprietors of the Saugatuck Inn for her article or typing up notes, they took long walks on the beach or in the woods. Hand in hand, they shuffled through the blaze of autumn colors littering the ground, absorbing the earthy scent of dirt mixed with the unmistakable smoky smell of burning leaves.

Fond memories of a radiant Jenny raking the leaves in their yard back home were intruded upon when the images suddenly contained a bundled, runny-nosed toddler waddling across the lawn. Trying to disperse the picture, Gabe spent hours staring at his suspense novel until the words blurred before him and he read the same page at least five times, but even Dan Brown couldn't compete with Jenny's bombshell.

Damn. She wanted a baby.

A part of him was very tempted to experience parenthood again with her. The thought of a tiny newborn nursing at her breast stirred something deep and primitive within him. But a larger part, the selfish part, wanted another child like he wanted a Drano enema.

He'd gone through the long, sleepless nights caring for his sick children. He'd celebrated their freedom from diapers, each lost tooth, and mastery of riding two wheel bikes without training wheels. He'd sympathized at the funerals of six goldfish, three hamsters, and one cat. He'd spent years juggling his schedule to attend soccer, little league games, and tennis matches, feeling guilty when his career proved inflexible making him miss a crucial birthday or school event. Though rewarding, parenthood was difficult, time consuming, and sometimes heartbreaking, and long--definitely long.

Gabe washed a hand over his face. Marriage was about compromises and sacrifices. But in this situation, having a baby was a hell of a sacrifice for him. Then again, he supposed never experiencing pregnancy and parenthood from the conception was a hell of a sacrifice for her.

The morning of their last day of vacation, Gabe suggested they go for a bike ride. He still hadn't come to a decision, but hopefully discussing it with her would stimulate an epiphany.

Waiting out front by their bikes, he watched Jenny skip down the wide porch steps. She'd pulled her brown hair back in a short ponytail, and covered her worn jeans with his blue and gold striped rugby shirt that fell mid-thigh on her. Smiling widely, she looked at him with those translucent blue guileless eyes; Lord she was beautiful. A shiny silver helmet dangled from her finger.

“Glad to see you've come prepared,” he said, nodding to the helmet.

“It's for you. Your other anniversary present. It's about time you retire that old, hot relic.” She stretched out her hand to take his black helmet.

“That's sweet of you, but I like this one.”

“This one's made with a new Kevlar material that's lightweight and breathes. Try it.” She held it out. “I had to go to four stores to find this helmet in a color you wouldn't hate.”

He took it from her and plopped it on his head. Stiff, but it fit. Hand halfway to his chinstrap, he looked at her. “What about you? What're you going to wear?”

“Me?” Not riding often, she obvious hadn't thought about herself. “I'll wear your old one.”

“Take this one.” He held out the new helmet. A sly look crossed his face before he contrived to look innocent. “A really considerate wife would break it in for me.”

Jenny snatched the new helmet. “When we get home, you are going to wear this one.” She glared at him while tugging the chinstraps until it fit snugly, grumbling, “I'm gonna burn that ugly old thing.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. Although your head's a bit big, I know you'll break it in just fine for me.”

Peddling down the deserted black top, they soon reached a designated trail that wound between large oak trees, through a meadow, and around a little pond . The few remaining dandelions relinquished their fuzz to loft above decaying fields of wildflowers and thistle patches, floating lazily about in the cool morning air. Straggling songbirds foraged for one last meal before heading south for the winter.

Gabe breathed in deeply, loving the earthy scent of the lingering summer warmth melding with the inevitable fall decay. Stealing a glance at Jenny, he read the contentment in her expression. Regret weighed heavily on his soul. What he had to do would shatter nature's soothing influence as surely as a rock shatters a windshield. He fervently hoped it wouldn't destroy anything more important—like her heart. Or their marriage.

Spotting a huge log that looked like the perfect resting place, Gabe pulled over and dismounted. Jenny pulled up behind him, straddling her bike. “Tired already, Harrison ? This vacation was supposed to rejuvenate you.”

“I'm rejuvenated.” He snagged her shirt and pulled her close. With a gentle hand at her jaw, Gabe tilted her head up so he could memorize every curve, every nuance of her heart-shaped face, before settling on her intelligent eyes. Good Lord, she was beautiful. She was energy, and laughter, and love—everything he had ever wanted. Jenny filled his heart with warmth and light.

“I love you.”

A smile curved her lips and lit her eyes. “Love you, too.”

Gabe fumbled with the hem of her shirt until he could slip his hand beneath where he caressed the warm silkiness of her waist. He loved her soft skin, could spend hours stroking it like rubbing a good-luck charm. His hand splayed, spanning her small back, pulling her close.

Lowering his head, Gabe feathered light kisses over her lips. Jenny's arms snaked around his neck pressing her closer until he couldn't tell her heartbeat from his. With a little sigh, she toyed with the hair at the base of his neck, sending shafts of delight and heat pooling in his groin.

Gabe kissed his wife long and deeply. Remorse intensifying his passion, he molded Jenny's hips to his, hardly feeling the cold metal of her bike gouging his thighs. Eyes shut, he devoured her lips, as if his love could bend her will to his. A tremor moved through him as he thought about how much of his soul this woman owned. She was his heart. His life. He didn't want to share her—he didn't want to lose her.

Jenny moaned in appreciation. Her bike crashed to the ground.

Chest heaving, Gabe eased away from her. “That's no way to treat an expensive bike.”

She looked at him from beneath passion drooping eyelids and licked her lips. “Then you shouldn't seduce me with a kiss like that.”

“That good, eh?” He stood a little taller.

She stepped over the bike, feigning nonchalance. “Not bad—for an old married man.”

Gabe scanned her open face, having trouble getting started. He took Jenny's hand, so small and delicate, so trustingly curled around his own fingers, and guided her to the large log. Straddling the trunk, he pulled her down to face him. “Jenny. About the baby. . .”

“You don't want to,” she finished quietly.

He looked up. The disappointment deep in her eyes weighted his chest, crushing his heart and conscience. “I don't know what I want. I've thought about little else the past few days. I love you and I completely understand your wanting a baby. I have no doubt you'd make a wonderful mother.” He paused and looked out over the lake. “It's me. I'm a selfish bastard. I can't help thinking of all the negatives. I'd be in my sixties by the time this child graduated from college.”

“That's not all that old.”

“I know. But would the child think it was? And we'd probably have to have two, because it wouldn't be fair to it to only have one. Although Ted and Alex would be half-siblings, they'd be old enough to be our children's aunt and uncle.”

“They adjusted to divorce and to our marrying. They'd get used to having younger siblings.”

“I know they would.”

Hating himself, he had to ask. “Are you sure this is what you really want? Are you sure this isn't like wanting us to become foster parents?” Low blow. It was unfair to throw that incident up in her face, yet he had to know. Had to test her.

“This is different. I know it's not fair to change my mind. But I ache to feel your baby growing inside me.” She cupped her hands over her lower abdomen. “I want to create a new life with you—a legacy of our love.”

He didn't know what to say. “You could've just stopped taking the birth control pills.”

“I don't want it that way.” Jenny frowned. He'd never believe her now.

How could she tell Gabe she was probably already pregnant? It would devastate him. He would feel betrayed—or tricked. Manipulated. Gabe would never believe it'd been an accident.

Even though Jenny took the pill religiously, she was nearly three weeks late. The home pregnancy test she'd taken several days ago had been negative, but her breasts were full and painful. She felt pregnant.

“I could never be happy if you didn't want the baby too.”

He took her hands in his. “How about this. . . we stop using any birth control for six months and see what happens? We'll let fate decide it. No drugs, no operations, no assisted measures,” he warned. “And if you get pregnant, then God meant for us to take that road. If you don't, you don't. We're on our own. What do you think?”

Sounded good given her situation, but on principal alone, Jenny wasn't impressed. “That's not exactly fair. What if I have some medical problem?”

Gabe sighed loudly. “It's a compromise, Jen.”

“Six whole months?”

He stood and threw his arms wide. “Well, what do you want? A year? Two? How long do you want, Jenny? Enough time to have two or three kids? That's really fair.” He planted a hand on his waist and cocked his head. “That's sure leaving it to destiny.”

“Six months is stingy.”

He looked away and swallowed hard. “A year?”

Jenny stood and turned her back on him. “Forget it.”

He vaulted to his feet. “What? I'm trying to compromise here.”

Jenny whirled around, tears glistened brightly in her eyes. “I don't want to compromise,” she shouted hoarsely. “If you don't want it, just forget it.”

This was a disaster. He didn't want their baby and he'd never believe she hadn't gotten pregnant on purpose. She had to get away. Jenny jumped on her bike and wobbled toward the path.

Gabe took a startled step back away from the force of her anger and disappointment. His mouth dropped open as she pulled away.

“Jen, wait. Come back. We can work this out.”

On the path, Jenny quickly gathered momentum. She swiped at the tears blinding her eyes and swerved sideways, narrowly missing a low hanging branch in her determination to put some distance between them. She heard Gabe mount his bike and race after her, but that only served to panic her.

As they broke out of the stand of trees and darted into the street, he pulled along side her. “Jen, stop. Let's talk.”

Peddling furiously, she surged ahead. He moved along side her. “Jenny, I'm sorry. Pull over. We can have the baby.”

God, when he found out, he'd hate her. She had to get away.

Without sparing him as much as a glance, Jenny burst ahead, swinging towards the center of the street to circumvent a long stick blocking the edge of the road. Gabe dropped behind her and rounded the stick.

“Hey! Watch out,” Gabe yelled.

In a mighty surge, he sprang forward and shoved Jenny sideways. Eyes wide, unable to believe that he'd deliberately pushed her; she tumbled off her bike.

* * *