3. Harris
3
HARRIS
“ Y ou’re trembling. What’s wrong?”
I’d barely got the words out before Rachel was talking, rattling on like she hadn’t heard me at all. “Harris! You’re back. I wasn’t expecting, uh… How was the funeral?” Her strained smile vanished, and she did a facepalm. “ God, I’m so stupid. It was a funeral . What?—”
“It was a lot,” I said, and that was the truth. The last month had been a whirlwind, almost too much to take. Which was why?—
“You should come in,” Rachel said, but she didn’t step aside. I shut the door and leaned up against it.
“You look?—”
“Your brothers?—”
We both chuckled awkwardly. I waved her on.
“Sorry. Go ahead?”
“I was just going to ask, how are your brothers?” She cocked her head to one side. “It’d been a while, hadn’t it? Since you all got together?”
I nodded. “Uh-huh.” Rachel was shivering, hugging herself. I wanted to swoop in and cradle her to my chest, rock her and soothe her till her fears drained away. But maybe she wouldn’t want that. Was she scared of me ? I’d probably startled her, barging in like I had.
“Chance is good,” I said. “Got a new job. A new woman, too, or make that an old one. I mean, not an old lady. His high school sweetheart.”
Rachel laughed, shaky. “And your kid brother? Lee?”
I smiled. “The two of us actually ended up taking Dad’s car, heading to Vegas. A road trip, you know? We’d probably still be there, but he got a job offer. He flew out to California, and—hey. Hey . Rachel!”
I surged forward to catch her as she swayed on her feet. She crumpled in my arms, and I pulled her against me. Rachel clung to my shirt and made herself small, ducking her head to hide her face in my chest.
“Sweetheart,” I crooned, adjusting my hold so I didn’t hurt her. She felt fragile as a sparrow, all trembling limbs. I tilted her face up. “Tell me what happened.”
“My mom—it’s been…” She shuddered. “I need to sit down.”
“Okay,” I said. I could’ve stepped back, let her lead me inside. But I could feel her heart racing, so I gathered her up instead, carrying her in my arms to a big room decorated with flowers. The couch looked comfy, so I set her down there, by the window with the sun in her hair. Her hair was blue now, a bright peacock shade, and she’d painted her fingernails and toenails to match. She wasn’t wearing much, just shorts and a tank top, and the morning sun dappled her brightly inked arms. A fairy , I thought, and pushed the thought aside. That way lay fantasy, and Rachel was real, and really in need of my comfort. My help.
“What happened?” I asked again.
Rachel buried her face in the side of my neck. I stroked her hair, worry tightening my throat. I’d never seen her this vulnerable—or vulnerable at all. Now she curled into me like I held the key to her survival. I pressed my palm to her back and held her tight.
“Rachel? Hey, talk to me.”
She took a deep breath and let it out slow, a warm gust against my chest. “It’s been, uh…it’s been a confusing day.”
“Confusing?” I tried to peer down at her but couldn’t see anything with her face still hidden. This reaction seemed over the top for confusing . “How so?”
A long shudder rippled through her. Her hand burrowed into the short hairs at the back of my head. Her touch felt good, soothing, but I ignored that, especially when Rachel raised her head at last. Her blue eyes were wounded, swimming with tears.
“If I tell you, you’ll never look at me the same way again.”
“Hey.” I jostled her gently and offered a smile. “I think you’re amazing. Nothing’s going to change that.”
A grimace flitted across her face. “Nothing, huh? You’re not from around here. You don’t know about my family, our reputation.”
“Your reputation?” I almost laughed. “You think us McCallisters are part of some country club set?”
A small smile tweaked the corner of her mouth.
“We weren’t exactly high class. Honestly, it was all we could do to make ends meet. It didn’t help that my dad drank,” I continued, hoping to draw her out by sharing first. “Especially after Mom died—cancer, y’know.” I frowned. My heart still hurt, remembering Mom. “He tried—Dad, I mean—but Mom’s medical bills tapped him out. He was too proud, or maybe just too stubborn, to reach out to anyone for help. Wouldn’t take it, even when it was offered. Instead, he worked two jobs just to keep us fed, and I guess all the stress…it had to come out somehow. So he’d drink. It got pretty bad.”
Rachel nodded. “Mom, too. Dad died, and she’d drink. But she’d barely hold one job, let alone two.” She found my hand and gave it a squeeze. “That must’ve been rough on you guys, growing up.”
I let out a snorting sound, not quite a laugh. “You could say that,” I said. “Dad and Chance, they’d fight. Lee’d just go quiet. I was the peacemaker, stuck in the middle.” I sighed. “I thought I’d be the one with him—with Dad—at the end when his liver finally gave out. But Chance was the only one who made it in time.”
“I’m sorry.” Rachel stroked my arm, slow and careful.
“So.” I shot her a wry smile. “We’ve established that your family’s no worse than mine. Tell me what happened and why you’re bringing them up.”
“Mom came by to see me, with her new boyfriend, Darryl. He’s obsessed with this property. You see, there’s this legend…” Rachel started to fidget, drawing patterns with her fingertip on my pec and shoulder. “Involving my land.”
“Okay.” I shifted to keep my leg from falling asleep. “You’ve got me intrigued.”
“You’ll laugh, but rumor has it that three hundred years ago, a pirate buried his treasure somewhere on this property.” Her eyes twinkled.
“Seriously? Pirate booty?” I sat up straighter. I couldn’t help the grin that spread over my face. How cool would it be to dig up actual buried treasure?
“I see what you’re thinking.” Her finger pressed against the crease between my eyebrows. “And you can quit it right now.”
“Can’t help it,” I said, my grin growing wider. “Just thinking about a big ol’ treasure chest brings out the kid in me. Hey, you got a shovel?”
Rachel elbowed me, none too gently. “Well, it’s a myth. I’ve researched it to death and found nothing but vague stories—no names, no dates, nothing solid to go on. But Mom believes in the treasure, and she wants it badly. Wants to dig up my yard, and?—”
“Well, it’s your yard, right? Can’t you just tell her no?”
Rachel sighed. “I can and I have, but she won’t stop nagging. The thing is, technically, we’re equal owners.”
I frowned. “How’d that happen?”
Rachel explained, with mounting frustration, how up till a year ago, she’d lived with her mom, cramped up together in a run-down single-wide. Then the lawyers had showed up with the answer to both their prayers: this house, an inheritance from some distant third cousin.
“You should’ve seen the place.” Rachel shook her head. “No one had lived here for, God, thirty years. It was full of dry rot, rats and mice, the whole deal. Mom wanted to sell it, get the cash for the land, but I took one look, and I saw, well, all this.” She gestured around her, at the warm, sunlit room. “I told Mom I’d do it, all the work, all by myself. I’d take out a mortgage to cover the repairs. She said okay, on two conditions: one, she’d get a percentage of the B&B’s earnings. Which, fair enough. She’s entitled to that. Two, if the business fails, I’ll agree to sell the property and we’ll split the proceeds, fifty-fifty.” Rachel went stiff in my arms. “She was fine cashing the checks and staying out of my way until Darryl convinced her the treasure was real. Now she thinks we’re sitting on bags of easy money.”
“Darryl.” I felt my good mood draining away. “Where’d he come from?”
“Some treasure hunting forum. They met online.” Rachel rolled her eyes. “He touts himself as a treasure hunter, but he’s just a bum. I’m sick of him. Sick of having to chase him off my damn land. Now he thinks he’s going to buy me out. I told him no, and he got pretty nasty.”
I felt myself bristle. “Nasty how? Did he hurt you?”
“Just my feelings.” Rachel looked away. “Called me white trash. Not that I care what he thinks of me, but it still stings after hearing that all my life. It’s hard not to believe it, when…”
“Uh-uh. No way.” I took her by the shoulders and turned her to face me. “Let me make one thing clear: you’re amazing. You’re priceless. Look in my eyes now and tell me you’re not trash.”
“I-I’m…” Rachel drooped where she sat. The light fled her eyes, and she bit her lip. The next thing I knew, she was up on her feet. A clamor of warning bells was clanging in my head as I reached out to her, but she pushed me away.
“Harris. I— Something else happened today.” She visibly swallowed and the color drained from her face. “I’m…I’m pregnant and the baby is yours.”
White noise filled my ears and my vision shorted out. Had she just said— what ? Pregnant? A baby?
“Hey! Hey, ease up.” Rachel squirmed in my grasp, and I relaxed my grip. When had I grabbed her? How long had I checked out?
Rachel paced up and down. “You don’t believe me?”
I couldn’t think straight enough to believe or not believe her. I was still stuck on pregnant , and baby , and yours .
Rachel stepped over to the window and stood looking out. “I only found out right before you showed up. I’m still processing, too, but the baby is definitely yours. I haven’t been with anyone but you in the last year.” She tossed the words at me like a grenade. I held up my hands, as though to ward them off. I needed a moment to get my head to quit reeling.
“It’s yours,” she said again, quieter this time. “But you don’t have to worry about it, if you don’t want to. I don’t expect you to upend your life for a baby you never expected.”
I opened my mouth, but Rachel kept talking, the words spilling out almost too fast to catch.
“We barely know each other. We aren’t together. And I know your career is important to you. You?—”
“Wait.”
Rachel didn’t wait. She’d started pacing, flip-flops snapping her heels. “I know your unit spends a lot of time off base and that you have to go wherever you’re deployed.” Pace, pace. “I don’t have any expectations and I’m fine doing this on my own. If the most you can offer is visits when you’re in town, then that’s not a problem.”
“A problem?” I gaped at her, but Rachel wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“I’m willing to raise the baby by myself. You don’t need to worry. We’ll be okay.”
I blinked. Lee had said the same thing— I’m okay. I’m fine. He’d said it over and over in just the same way, angry, defiant, a challenge to the world. He’d said it, but what my little brother meant was this sucks . But Lee’s anger was aimed at the injury that disqualified him from staying in the military. Rachel was angry at…what was Rachel angry at?
“Are you mad at me?” I said. “Or at the situation?”
Rachel stopped pacing. “Mad? I’m not mad.”
“Then why are you yelling?” I conjured a smile. The shock of hearing “I’m pregnant” had finally worn off. “Listen, my brother—my kid brother, Lee. He went through something too. He’s still going through it. Took some shrapnel to his eye, and he’s out of the Rangers. His whole life in the Army, finished like that.” I snapped my fingers. “At first, he couldn’t see anything past what he’d lost. But I think, now?—”
“I’m not mad,” Rachel said. “I’m just saying, I don’t need anything from you.”
Lee had said that, too— I don’t need you. I don’t need your pity, so back off. Back off! Was that what she was saying? She didn’t need me ? My jaw tightened. “Are you pushing me out the door?”
Her pacing ground to a halt and her head shot up. “What?”
Hurt laced with anger curled in my gut. “I don’t want to assume anything,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “Maybe you’re trying to reassure me, but that’s not what I’m hearing. What I’m hearing is, you don’t want me in your life. You don’t want me involved in raising our child.”
Her blue eyes widened, and she blinked.
“Is that what you’re saying?” I asked.
“Of course I’m not saying that.” Rachel snapped her mouth shut and cringed. “I see how you heard that, but that’s not what I’m saying. I’m not even saying I don’t want your help. I just don’t want you to think I did this on purpose. I’m not trying to trap you into marriage, or even fatherhood.”
My head still felt foggy, but I loosened my tense muscles, took a deep breath, and pushed through the shock, down through that numbness to the feelings underneath. I edged toward Rachel, giving her plenty of time to stop me if she didn’t want me near her. “Look, we’ve got time to figure this out.” I swiped a lock of blue hair over her shoulder. A bright pink chrysanthemum decorated across her shoulder, a tiny, plump bee perched at its center. I touched the tattoo and found myself smiling, a warm spark of fondness lighting in my chest.
“We’ve got time,” I said again. “My CO’s deactivated me temporarily because, well, they do that sometimes. Watch your best friend get blown up, and the brass gets worried about where your head is. I’m off active duty till I pass a mental health evaluation.” I cleared my throat. “That’s why I showed up here out of the blue. I got the news just this morning, and it hit me pretty hard. I thought…I don’t know. I just wanted to see you.”
“I’m sorry,” Rachel said. “You don’t need this on top of everything else.”
“Hey.” I grasped her shoulders, trying not to focus on the smooth skin beneath my palms. “You didn’t need to find out you’re pregnant while you have your mom and some treasure hunter sniffing around your place.” I cupped her cheek. “Way I see it, this baby makes us a team. It’s a two-man mission: a mom and a dad. So, how about some team building? We’ll spend time together. I’ll help set up the nursery, make sure everything’s in place. We’ll get to know each other, if that’s okay with you?”
A hesitant smile parted Rachel’s lips. The light that had vanished from her eyes sparked up anew. “I’d like that,” she said.
I grinned. “We’re going to be parents.” Parents. Holy shit. Had I really just uttered those words? “I think the least we can do is learn to work together.”
“Work together. You’re right.” She slid her slim fingers around my wrist. “Want to come by tomorrow morning? We can get started then.”
“Absolutely.” I pulled my car keys from my front pocket. “Be prepared for me to spend the whole day.”
Rachel hugged me—a good hug—and I got in my car, but I didn’t remember driving back to the base.
I’m going to be a father kept circling in my head.