Free Baby On The Way by Sandra Paul Page B

California,” Libby admitted. She pushed the napkin pieces into a small white pile. “And I don’t want to do that.”
    “Then accept my help,” Del said firmly. When she didn’t answer, he sighed. “C’mon, Libby. Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
    She added a few more pieces to her napkin mountain. “I just don’t want to depend on you—or anyone.” She glanced up fleetingly. “I don’t want to be…weak.”
    He looked as if he was about to argue, but she didn’t give him the chance, adding fiercely, “Do you knowhow hard it is to summon ambition when there’s always someone there to pick up the bills? Would you have worked so hard to get where you are in your job if you hadn’t needed to provide for Christine and your mom?”
    He frowned. “Okay—maybe you’ve got a point. But the situations aren’t the same.” Reaching over, he caught her fidgeting fingers in his big hand. “I have a moral and financial responsibility to help you-and the baby-that can’t be ignored.” His grip tightened a little as he added, “I’m not trying to weaken you, Libby. I’m trying to do what’s right.”
    Her fingers clung to his. “You’ll interfere—”
    “I swear I won’t. How could I when I have to go back to work soon?”
    The remark sent a wave of desolation through her—and the feeling frightened her. She pulled her hand away from his grasp. She didn’t want to miss him when he was gone.
    He frowned. “What’s the problem? I don’t understand.”
    Of course he didn’t understand. He hadn’t built foolish dreams around one night. He hadn’t spent days—all right, weeks!—waiting for the phone to ring.
    She glanced at him. He’d leaned back in a corner of the booth, resting one arm on the table and the other along the seat. His tanned face wore a concerned look and the deep blue Oregon sky framed in the window behind him was no more intense than his azure eyes.
    She stared down at the napkin pieces, and then pushed them aside, scattering the pile she had made. She wanted him gone. She wanted to regain some of the serenity she’d worked so hard to find the last timeafter he left. She wanted to feel in control of her life again.
    So maybe she should quit arguing. Del wasn’t like her mother, who used money to tie people to her. For Del, the opposite was true. The sooner she agreed, the sooner he’d leave. She’d simply make sure she accepted his help on her terms. “You’ll let me pay you back as soon as I can?” she asked.
    He bit back an expletive. “Fine.”
    “And I still don’t want anyone else to know you’re the father.”
    She saw a muscle tense in his cheek, but he didn’t argue.
    Libby clasped her hands tightly in her lap and drew a deep breath. “Okay, then, I’ll quit work. For the next few months only, I’ll accept your financial help.”

7
    H e’d won, Del realized, meeting her brown eyes. Not only had he gotten her to agree to tell the doctor he was the father, but now she’d also agreed to accept his financial help. “Good,” he said shortly. “Let’s head back.”
    It wasn’t until they were on the road and halfway home that Del admitted to himself that he still felt oddly discontented. He frowned, thinking deeply while Libby gazed out the window by his side. He felt as if he should do something more. Maybe buy her something before he left. Like a crate of diapers…or formula. He suddenly remembered the article he’d read.
    “Are you going to breast feed?” he asked abruptly.
    She whirled around, her eyes wide and startled. “Whether I breast feed or not is none of your business.”
    “I didn’t say it was. It’s just that breast milk—”
    “I know all about breast milk, Del, and you have to stop this before you drive me crazy,” she said firmly. “I’ve agreed to let you help me financially—and we’ve told the doctor you’re the father—but that’s where it ends. You promised me you wouldn’t interfere.”
    She was right, of