Page 1 of His Best Friend's Baby

CHAPTER ONE

WHAT AM I doing here? Phoebe Taylor asked herself for the hundredth time, pulling her light coat closer. She could no longer get it to meet in the middle. Bowing her head against a gust of Melbourne, Australia, wind, she walked on. It would rain soon.

She looked at the name on the street sign. Morris Lane. This was the correct place. Phoebe didn’t even have to check the paper in her hand that was shoved into her pocket. She had it memorized. She’d read it often during the past few weeks.

When had she turned into such a pathetic and needy person?

It had happened slowly, over the last eight months as her middle had expanded. She’d always heard that a baby changed you. She’d had no idea how true those words were until it had happened to her. She was even more fearful of the changes she faced in the weeks ahead. The fact she’d be handling them all on her own, had no one to rely on, frightened her.

She started down the cobblestone street lined with town houses. Joshua had written that if she needed anything she could contact Ryan Matthews. But who was she to him? An old army buddy’s wife. People said those types of things all the time but few meant them. But she had no one else to turn to. There were teachers she worked with, but they all had their own lives, husbands and children. They didn’t have time to hold her hand. There were plenty of acquaintances but none that she would call on. She’d take this chance because Joshua had said to. And this was Joshua’s baby.

But would this guy Ryan help her? Be there for her during the delivery afterwards? Take Joshua’s place at the birthing suite? Yeah, right. She didn’t see any man agreeing to that job. Who took on someone else’s widow and unborn child? She could never ask that of him. Would she want to? She didn’t know this man outside of Joshua saying he was an upstanding mate.

When the walls of reality had started closing in on her and panic had arrived, she’d been unable to think of where to turn. Joshua’s letter had called to her. Seemed to offer her salvation. Phoebe inhaled and released a breath. She’d come this far. She wouldn’t turn back now. What was the worst Ryan Matthews could do? Send her away? Act like he’d never heard of her?

What she was sure of was she didn’t want to feel alone anymore. She wanted someone to lean on. Be near a person who had a connection to Joshua. Hear a story or two that she could tell her son or daughter about their father. Joshua and Ryan had been brothers in arms. Been there for each other. Joshua had assured her in his last letter seven months ago that if she needed anything, anything, Ryan was the person to find. Desperate, she was going to his house to see if that was true.

Phoebe located the house number. It was painted above the door in black against the white frame of the Victorian house. The car traveling down the street drew her attention for a second. She pulled the paper out and looked at the address again, then at the entrance once more. Studying the steps to the door, she hesitated. Now she was stalling.

What was she going to say to this guy?

She’d been rehearsing her speech for days and still didn’t know if she could get it out. On the tram coming across town she’d practiced again but couldn’t seem to get it right. Everything she’d planned made her sound crazy. Maybe she was. But she had to say something, give some explanation as to why she’d turned up on his doorstep.

Hi, I’m Phoebe Taylor. You were a friend of my husband’s. He said if I ever needed anything to come see you. So here I am.

That should get his attention. She placed a hand on her protruding middle and chuckled dryly. His first thought will probably be I’m here to accuse him of being the father.

The wind gusted again as she mounted the steps. There were no potted plants lining them, like most of the other houses. Holding the handrail, she all but pulled her way up to the stoop. Could she get any bigger? Her midwife Sophia had assured her she could, and would.

After catching her breath, Phoebe knocked on the door. She waited. Thankfully, the small alcove afforded her some shelter from the wind.

When there was no answer, she rapped again. Seconds went by and still no one came. She refused to go back home without speaking to Ryan. It had taken her months to muster the courage to come in the first place. It was getting late, surely he’d be home soon.

To the right side of the door was a small wooden bench. She’d just wait for a while to see if he showed up. Bracing a hand against the wall, she eased herself down. She chuckled humorously at the picture she must make. Like a beach ball sitting on top of a flowerpot.

She needed to rest anyway. Everything fatigued her these days. Trying to keep up with twenty grade fivers wore her out but she loved her job. At least her students kept her mind off the fact that she was having a baby soon. Alone.

Phoebe never made a habit of feeling sorry for herself, had prided herself on being strong, facing life head-on. She’d always managed to sound encouraging and supportive when Joshua had prepared to leave on tour again and again. When they’d married, she’d been aware of what she was getting into. So why was the idea of having this baby alone making her come emotionally undone?

Pulling her coat tighter and leaning her head into the corner of the veranda, she closed her eyes. She’d just rest a few minutes.

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It was just after dark when Ryan Matthews pulled his sporty compact car into his usual parking spot along the street. It had been drizzling during his entire drive from the hospital. Street lamps lit the area. The trees cast shadows along the sidewalk and even across the steps leading to homes.

He’d had a long day that had involved more than one baby delivery and one of those a tough one. Nothing had seemed to go as planned. Not one but two of the babies had been breech. Regardless, the babies had joined the world kicking and screaming. He was grateful. All the other difficulties seemed to disappear the second he heard a healthy cry. He’d take welcoming a life over dealing with death any day.

Stepping out of the car, he reached behind the driver’s seat and grabbed his duffel bag stuffed with his street clothes. Too exhausted to change, he still wore his hospital uniform. As much as he loved his job, thirty-six hours straight was plenty. He was looking forward to a hot shower, bed and the next day off. It would be his first chance in over two weeks to spend time in his workshop. A half-finished chair, along with a table he’d promised to repair for a friend, waited. He wanted to think of nothing and just enjoy the process of creating something with his hands.

Duffel in hand, a wad of dirty uniforms under his arm, he climbed the steps. The light remained on over his door as he’d left it. Halfway up the steps he halted. There was an obviously pregnant woman asleep on his porch. He saw pregnant women regularly in his job as a midwife at Melbourne Victoria Hospital’s maternity unit. Today more than he’d wanted to. As if he didn’t have a full load at the hospital, they were now showing up on his doorstep.

By the blue tint of the woman’s lips and the way she was huddled into a ball, she’d been there for some time. Why was she out in the cold? She should be taking better care of herself, especially at this stage in her pregnancy. Her arms rested on her protruding middle. She wore a fashionable knit cap that covered the top of her head. Strawberry-blond hair twisted around her face and across her shoulders. With the rain and the temperature dropping, she must be uncomfortable.

Taking a resigned breath, Ryan moved farther up the steps. As he reached the top the mysterious woman roused and her eyes popped open. They were large and a dark sable brown with flecks of gold. He’d never seen more mesmerizing or sad ones in his life.

His first instinct was to protect her. He faltered. That wasn’t a feeling he experienced often. He made it his practice not to become involved with anyone. Not to care too deeply. He tamped the feeling down. Being tired was all there was to it. “Can I help you?”

The woman slowly straightened. She tugged the not-heavy-enough-for-the-weather coat closer as she stared at him.

When she didn’t answer right away he asked in a weary voice, “Do you need help?”

“Are you Ryan Matthews?” Her soft Aussie accent carried in the evening air.

His eyes widened and he stepped back half a pace, stopping before tumbling. Did he know her? She was such a tiny thing she couldn’t be more than a girl. Something about her looked familiar. Could he have seen her in the waiting room sometime?

Ryan glanced at her middle again. He’d always made it a practice to use birth control. Plus, this female was far too young for him. She must be seeking medical help.

“Yes.”

“I’m Phoebe Taylor.”

Was that supposed to mean something to him? He squinted, studying her face in the dim light. “Have we met before?”

“I should go.” She reached out to touch the wall as if she planned to use it as support in order to stand. When she did, a slip of paper fluttered to the stoop.

Ryan picked it up. In blue pen was written his name, address and phone number. Had she been given it at the clinic?

He glared at her. “Where did you get this?”

“I think I had better go.” She made a movement toward the steps. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come. I’ll go.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know for sure what I wanted. I need to go.” Her words came out high-pitched and shaky.

He put out a hand as if she were a skittish animal he was trying to reassure. “Think of the baby.” That must be what this was all about.

Her eyes widened, taking on a hysterical look. She jerked away from him. “I’ve done nothing but think of this baby. I have to go. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have come.” She sniffled. “I don’t know …” another louder sniffle “… what I was thinking. You don’t know me.” Her head went into her hands and she started to cry in earnest. “I’ll go. This is …” she sucked in air “… too embarrassing. You must think I’m mad.”

He began to think she was. Who acted this way?

She struggled to stand. Ryan took her elbow and helped her.

“I’ve never done anything … like this before. I need to go.”

Ryan could only make out a few of her garbled words through her weeping. He glanced around. If she continued to carry on like this his neighbors would be calling the law.

She shivered. What had she said her name was? Phoebe?

“You need to calm down. Being so upset isn’t good for the baby. It’s getting cold out and dark. Come in. Let your jacket dry.” He needed to get her off the street so he could figure out what this was all about. This wasn’t what he had planned for his evening.

“No, I’ve already embarrassed myself enough. I think I’d better go.”

Thankfully the crying had stopped but it had left her eyes large and luminous.

She looked up at him with those eyes laced with something close to pain, and said in a low voice, “You knew my husband.”

“Your husband?”

“Joshua Taylor.”

Ryan cringed. Air quit moving to his lungs. JT was part of his past. The piece of his life he had put behind him. Ryan hadn’t heard JT’s name in seven months. Not since he’d had word that he had been killed when his convoy had been bombed.

Why was his wife here? Ryan didn’t want to think of the war, or JT. He’d moved on.

They had been buddies while they’d been in Iraq. Ryan had been devastated when he’d heard JT had been killed. He’d been one more in a long list of men Ryan had cared about, shared his life with, had considered family. Now that was gone, all gone. He wasn’t going to let himself feel that pain ever again. When he’d left the service he’d promised himself never to let anyone matter that much. He wasn’t dragging those ugly memories up for anyone’s wife, not even JT’s.

Ryan had known there was a wife, had even seen her picture fixed to Joshua’s CHU or containerized housing unit room. That had been over five years ago, before he’d left the service. This was his friend’s widow?

He studied her. Yes, she did bear a resemblance to the young, bright-faced girl in the pictures. Except that spark of life that had fascinated him back then had left her eyes.

“You need to come in and get warm, then I’ll see you get home.” He used his midwife-telling-the-mother-to-push voice.

She made a couple of soft sniffling sounds but said no more.

Ryan unlocked the door. Pushing it back, he offered her space to enter before him. She accepted the invitation. She stopped in the middle of the room as if unsure what to do next. He turned on the light and dropped his bag and dirty clothes in the usual spot on top of all the other dirty clothes lying next to the door.

For the first time, he noted what sparse living conditions he maintained. He had a sofa, a chair, a TV that sat on a wooden crate and was rarely turned on. Not a single picture hung on the walls. He didn’t care about any of that. It wasn’t important. All he was interested in was bringing babies safely into the world and the saws in his workshop.

“Have a seat. I’ll get you some tea,” he said in a gruff voice.

Bracing on the arm of the sofa, she lowered herself to the cushion. She pulled the knit cap from her head and her hair fell around her shoulders.

Ryan watched, stunned by the sight. The urge to touch those g

lowing tresses caught him by surprise. His fingers tingled to test the texture, to see if it was as soft and silky as it looked.

Her gaze lifted, meeting his. Her cheekbones were high and a touch of pink from the cold made the fairness of her skin more noticeable. Her chin trembled. The sudden fear that she might start crying again went through him. He cleared his throat. “I’ll get you that tea.”

Phoebe watched as the rather stoic American man walked out of the room. Why had he looked at her that way? Where was all that compassion and caring that Joshua had written about in his letter? Ryan obviously wanted her gone as soon as possible. He wasn’t at all what she’d expected. Nothing like Joshua had described him. She shivered, the cold and damp seeping through her jacket. What had she been thinking? This wasn’t the warm and welcoming guy that Joshua had said he would be. He hadn’t even reacted to her mentioning Joshua.

He was tall, extremely tall. He ducked slightly to go through the doorway. Joshua had been five feet eleven. Ryan Matthews was far taller, with shoulders that went with that height.

Though he was an attractive man with high cheekbones and a straight nose, his eyes held a melancholy gaze. As if he’d seen things and had had to do things he never wanted to remember, much less talk about.

A few minutes later Ryan handed her a mug with a teabag string hanging over the side. He hadn’t even bothered to ask her what she wanted to drink. Did he treat everybody he met with such disinterest?

“I’m a coffee drinker myself. An associate left the tea here or I wouldn’t have had it.”

She bet it was a female friend. He struck her as the type of man who had women around him all the time. “You are an American.”

“Yes.”

“Joshua never said that you weren’t Australian.”

He took a seat in the lone chair in the room. “I guess he didn’t notice after a while.”

She looked around. Whatever women he brought here didn’t stay around long. His place showed nothing of the feminine touch. In fact, it was only just a step above unlivable. If she had to guess, there was nothing but a bed and a carton for a table in the bedroom.

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