Susan Carlisle – His Best Friend's Baby (страница 1)
SUSAN CARLISLE’s love affair with books began when she made a bad grade in maths in the sixth grade. Not allowed to watch TV until she’d brought the grade up, she filled her time with books and became a voracious romance reader. She still has ‘keepers’ on the shelf to prove it. Because she loved the genre so much she decided to try her hand at creating her own romantic worlds. She still loves a good happily-ever-after story.
When not writing Susan doubles as a high school substitute teacher, which she has been doing for sixteen years. Susan lives in Georgia with her husband of twenty-eight years and has four grown children. She loves castles, travelling, cross-stitching, hats, James Bond and hearing from her readers.
His Best Friend’s Baby
Susan Carlisle
A number of years ago my mother and I visited Australia. It was a beautiful and amazing country and I fell in love with it. I often speak of my visit to this day. When I was asked to join a group of world-class authors in writing the
Ryan and Phoebe’s story is set in Melbourne—one of the many places I had the pleasure of visiting. While in the area, my mother and I drove to the coast. On our way we visited a farm with a café much as Ryan and Phoebe do. We also went to see the Little Penguins come home. It’s one of the most memorable things I’ve ever done. Like my characters, I had a lesson on what even the smallest of animals will do to take care of their young.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t thank Fiona Lowe, one of my sister authors, who helped me—along with making me laugh—to work out the differences between the way Aussies and Americans speak. She was also wonderful in answering my questions about the area around Melbourne.
I hope you enjoy reading Ryan and Phoebe’s love story. I like to hear from my readers. You can reach me at SusanCarlisle.com
Joseph.
Thanks for being a great tool.
Table of Contents
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?
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,
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.
That should get his attention. She placed a hand on her protruding middle and chuckled dryly.
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.
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.