Enchanting Baby

“That’s why I am here.”

“The day the lab received your son-in-law’s samples, my samples from Colorado arrived in California in the same shipment. We used the same doctor in Denver.”

“I see. If I may ask, why did you elect to freeze your…sperm.” Maureen felt genuinely uneasy, having this highly personal conversation with a stranger. “If I may ask.”

Greg swallowed. He shot a look at the back of the cop’s head that told Maureen he was as uncomfortable about having this conversation as she was. “I’d rather not say,” he spoke quietly. “It’s not important now. The point is my samples were somehow confused with Chad’s.”

“But the lab in California told my daughter that they took extra precautions. Each client was given their own separate storage unit. Each storage unit had a duplicate in another location, in another part of the state.”

“Yes, the same process was explained to me.”

“Then how…” Maureen’s voice trailed off. It seemed pointless to argue this. No matter what he said, there would have to be paternity testing when the baby came.

“They didn’t discover the error until the brownout at their main site. When they went for retrieval of the backup samples at the alternative site, they discovered that the ones in both my storage unit and in Chad’s storage unit were actually Chad’s.”

“Which means that both the samples at the main storage facility were yours.”

“Exactly. When they went back and checked the containers that had gone bad during the brownout, they found that both storage tanks—mine and Chad’s—indeed had had my samples in them.”

Maureen covered her mouth with a shaky hand, suddenly seeing how the mishap had happened. “So,” she whispered through her fingers, “they kept all of your samples at the original facility, and sent all of Chad’s samples to the backup facility.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“And Ashleigh was impregnated with…”

“Mine.”

Maureen’s tears were hot and angry. “How could they make such a horrid mistake?”

“It’s very rare.” His voice was gentle with compassion. “Like I said, Chad and I used the same doctor in Denver. Our samples were shipped together and they got confused when they divided them up to create the duplicate containers. We would never have known any of this if the brownout hadn’t occurred.”

“Why not?” She dabbed at her eyes. “Weren’t you planning on using your…samples someday?”

“No.” His look became slightly bitter before he amended. “Not unless I remarry.”

“You’re single?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“May I ask why you were storing…do you have some kind of health problem? We are talking about my future grandchild here. It’s something Ashleigh will want to know. She knows all about babies, including all the things that can go wrong.”

“No, ma’am. I’m perfectly healthy, except for this altitude sickness.” His disparaging smile might have been engaging, but Maureen wanted no part of it. His expression grew serious again. “My reasons for storing my sperm—it’s a long story. Let’s just say I wanted to be sure I could have children if that ever became possible.”

“But now…” Maureen drew a sharp breath, realizing another horrible truth.

“Now,” he confirmed sadly, “I have no samples left. All of my…material was destroyed in the brownout.”

“But we still have Chad’s.”

“Yes, ma’am. That’s true. And I hope that will be some comfort to your daughter in all of this. But this baby…this baby is mine.”

Maureen sat as still as a stunned bird, staring at the Plexiglas shield, blinking while she absorbed the awful truth. And it was the truth, she was convinced of that now. Something else occurred to her then, and the thought made her angry. “How did you know Ashleigh was the patient who was impregnated with your last remaining sperm? The lab should never have told you that!”

“They had to tell me they…used it. But they wouldn’t tell me her name, at first. I figured it out from all the publicity about her pregnancy. Seems your daughter’s decision to carry her dead husband’s child made quite a human interest story.”

Silently, Maureen damned the media again for what they had done to Ashleigh’s life. “The publicity, I’m afraid, has exposed my daughter to an undesirable element.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Unfortunately, Ashleigh’s situation with this baby has drawn a stalker. And I’m afrai—”

“Wait a minute.” Greg thrust a palm up. “Wait just a damn minute. A stalker? What stalker?”

At the anger in his voice, Maureen flinched.

“I’m sorry.” He immediately softened his tone. “But when somebody uses the word stalker in the same sentence where she’s talking about my baby, my alarm bells go off.”

Maureen understood perfectly.

“What kind of stalker?” He kept his voice calm now.

She supposed, if the baby really was his, he had a right to know about this threat.

“The police think it’s some kind of fanatic. They only know his first name. Simon. We don’t have a last name. He first called in to the Q and A segment of Ashleigh’s show months ago. He seemed obsessed with the topic of babies and fertility. He started saying strange, startling things, trying to engage Ashleigh in an on-air debate. He expressed some truly bizarre attitudes about things like fertility treatments and surrogate mothers and human cloning. The producers figured out he was a nutcase and wouldn’t take any more of his calls. You have to understand—” she gave Greg Glazier a pleading look when she saw that his jaw was tightening in anger “—almost every media personality attracts these types.”

“When did he start to bother her?”

“A couple of months ago. He’s the reason Ashleigh finally took herself off the air and let someone else do the show. At least for now.”

“Why do the police think he’s stalking her?”

“Well, when Ashleigh’s pregnancy became public, this Simon tried to call the show for one reason or another almost every week. He seemed to think Ashleigh had no right to become a single mother. Of course, her staff never let him get through to her, except once when he used a different name.”

“Did he call himself John?”

“Yes.” Maureen was surprised. How did he know this?

“I, uh, I taped her last show.” He seemed embarrassed, admitting that. “When I became suspicious about the mix-up. So this guy is the caller Ashleigh had to cut off.”

Maureen nodded. “Mr. Glazier, do you have any idea how distressing it is to be a public figure, having your privacy invaded all the time?”

“What else had this stalker done?”

“E-mails. Calls to her home phone. Notes.”

“What kind of notes?”

“Messages left at the front desk at the studio, on the windshield of her car, in her mailbox at her condo. It seemed like he was trying to show her that he knew her movements and that he could get very close to her if he wanted to. And the content—very creepy stuff. Simon, or should I say whoever wrote the notes, seems to think that what Ashleigh has done is evil. He threatened Ashleigh…and her baby.”

“Threatened?”

“I can’t remember the exact words. But this person is deranged—some kind of pseudoscientist. He seemed to think that what Ashleigh was doing was unnatural, that she should be punished. That she doesn’t deserve to be the mother of her baby. The police seemed convinced that he could do her real harm.”

“So, that’s why she’s hiding up here in the mountains.”

“Yes. We had to choose our hiding place carefully, given Ashleigh’s condition, but we also hoped to get far enough away that he couldn’t locate us.”

“Oh, man,” Greg sighed. “It must have freaked you out when I showed up in town.”

“Yes. It alarmed the people at The Birth Place, too. But though the police have no real idea what this Simon person looks like, they do know his voice, and it’s nothing like yours.”

“I’m so sorry for the stress I’ve caused you.” He turned his kind, sincere eyes on Maureen. “I thought she might have chosen this remote place because she was hiding from me—because she already knew about the baby.”

“No. This is the first we’ve heard of you.”

“So the people in California didn’t tell her there’d been a mistake, or even about the brownout?”

“No. The lab most certainly did not contact my daughter.” Maureen eyed Greg Glazier. “Why didn’t they?” She had a feeling this young man knew the answer to that question.

“I, uh, managed to convince them to agree to let me be the one to tell the mother. I thought it might be easier if she met me—”

“Exactly how did you convince them?” Maureen interrupted, thinking he’d probably used money or influence or some such thing.

“I agreed not to sue them for the mix-up in exchange for letting me find Ashleigh in my own way and tell her the truth in my own time.”

Maureen’s eyes went wide, as the whole situation became suddenly clear to her. This young man had been as injured as Ashleigh had been. Ashleigh was not carrying Chad’s child as she believed, but this Greg Glazier would never have any other children. At least Ashleigh could still have Chad’s child in the future if that’s what she chose. Both Ashleigh and this man had been robbed of their dreams. Both would be completely justified in seeking legal recompense.

Greg Glazier looked up at her with an apology in his eyes, waiting for her to speak. Here was a man who valued his child, and perhaps even her daughter’s feelings, more than money, more than winning, more than being justified or proved right in a court of law.

“Mr. Glazier, forgive me for being so personal, but you have to admit this is a highly personal situation here.”

He swallowed and nodded.

“You are obviously a handsome, successful person.” Like my daughter, Maureen thought, and a fleeting notion occurred to her that this man might be a good match for Ashleigh. “Someday, surely, you will marry and build a life with some equally attractive and successful young woman. Surely, under the circumstances, you don’t want to complicate your future by laying claim to the baby of some other woman, a woman you don’t even know.”

“This is not some other woman’s baby.” A fierce determination undergirded his words. “This is my baby.”

“This baby means that much to you?”

“This baby…” He swallowed again and the sound was dry, desperate. “Mrs. McGuinness, this baby is the only person I have left in this world.”

Maureen stared at the young man who threatened to turn her daughter’s life inside out. “I have to think about this,” she said, finding she was barely able to draw a full breath. “I have to discuss the best course of action with Ashleigh’s doctor, if that’s possible without her consent.” She rubbed her brow.

“I understand,” he said very quietly, with a slight frown forming between those dark brows. “But you have to understand that I also have to do what I think is right. I’m still going to try in every way I can to make contact with your daughter.”

Maureen stared at him, hoping he wasn’t remembering that she’d said Ashleigh was at the clinic. As she stared at his strong profile, it struck her again that it was a shame Ashleigh couldn’t have met him under different circumstances.

“I have to go,” she said.

There were no door handles on the inside, so Greg tapped on the Plexiglas barrier and Officer Eiden got out and opened the door of the cruiser. Maureen scrambled out like a fleeing prisoner.

“Goodbye” was all she said to the cop before marching down the sidewalk.

“I’ll get in the front,” Greg told Eiden as he scooted across the plastic-covered seat.

Maureen looked back before rounding the corner of the café. She saw Greg Glazier unfold his long frame and step out into the New Mexico sunshine with the slow, steady movements of a man who could wait forever, if necessary, to get the one thing he really wanted.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE FIRST THING SIMON FISCHER did when he got to Enchantment was locate the clinic called The Birth Place. On the way here from Denver, his car, a battered old Ford Crown Victoria, had started smoking from the tailpipe, and he wondered how far he would be able to make it once he hit the road with the baby. Mexico? That would be good.

In his trunk he had baby things he’d bought at a thrift store. He’d made up a fake e-mail address and sent one last message to Lydia Kane at The Birth Place before he had emptied his bank accounts and sold his only item of value—his computer. Then, he’d bought some photography equipment at the same pawn shop.

None of that mattered now. Simon was on a mission.

He sat in his car in front of the clinic, while the oily exhaust pumped out of the tailpipe and his tortured mind pumped out his risky, thrilling plans.

Simon felt his mind was his best weapon. When he’d discovered that Ashleigh Logan had left Denver, like a computer quick-searching files, his mind had fed him the name of this place. And then Simon remembered—oh, Simon Fischer had a great, long, ferocious memory—the All About Babies episode where that Lydia Kane woman and the two midwives had been guests. They were from this remote birthing clinic in the New Mexico mountains. A small town called Enchantment. With only a little time on the Net, Simon’s search efforts were richly rewarded. He printed the maps to Enchantment, counting on two things: Ashleigh Logan would feel safe in this remote place; and these women at the clinic wouldn’t mind a little publicity.

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