Born Innocent by Christine Rimmer

swimsuit because she didn’t want to give the food any more time to get cold. They sat down to her table in the dining area, which was next to the kitchen and marked off from the living room by a wide arch.
    The food was good, and Claire found she had a raging appetite. Neither of them spoke for a few minutes as they each attended to their steaks. Then Joe held the wine bottle over her glass, waiting for her signal to pour.
    She thought of the baby. Alcohol was bad for babies.
    “ Half,” she said.
    He gave her what she’d asked for, and she was careful to take no more than a few sips, though she didn’t know yet what she intended to do about the child. She wasn’t making any decisions until her more immediate problem concerning the unconscious man in the Grass Valley hospital was cleared up.
    Claire reconsidered. All right. Maybe she did know what she was going to do about the baby. But she just wasn’t willing yet to face the myriad upheavals her decision was going to create.
    “ What is it?” Joe asked.
    Claire looked up from her salad. “Hmm?”
    “ What’s going on inside your head?”
    She pushed a bite of salad into her mouth and chewed, mostly to give herself time before she answered.
    Lord, what to say? If she kept the baby, of course he would have to know. Whatever did or did not exist between herself and Joe, it was his baby, too.
    But what would he think when she told him?
    That she was trying to trap him, most likely. She’d finally lured him into bed after years of begging him to give her love a chance. He’d spent one night with her—and guess what? She was pregnant. And after explaining so clearly that it was her safe time, too.
    “ Claire? What’s wrong?”
    Coward that she was, she just couldn’t tell him yet. “Nothing, really. It’s all just a little... overwhelming, I guess.”
    “ Don’t dwell on it,” he advised.
    She forced a brave smile. “I’ll do my best not to.”
     
    Joe slept on the couch that night, as Claire had assumed he would. It was a rough night for her. Across the bridge, they held a street dance, and the music went on into the small hours. And there were even more fireworks exploding than the night before. But more than the noise, her own grim thoughts kept her eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling.
    The next day, Sunday, Joe stayed with Claire all day except for a brief trip to his ranch in the early morning to feed the few animals and pick up more clothes. Both of them tried their best to be cheerful, but there was so much unspoken between them. And Claire found herself grimly sure each time the phone rang that it was going to be Undersheriff Leven asking her for another interview.
    It was Amelia’s regular workday. Claire was relieved when she showed up on time and appeared to be recovered from her hysteria of the day before. She chomped her gum and gave Joe the once-over but refrained from asking exactly what he was doing there.
    Claire, who’d spent her sleepless night determining that adversity would not get the better of her, had also decided she wouldn’t hide herself away. People would talk, of course, but she would not let the stares or the whispered comments interfere with her life in the least.
    Every day, when Verna or Amelia relieved her, she went to lunch at Mandy’s. Today would be no exception—except that she insisted Joe go with her. It would be her treat.
    He gave her one of his most ironic smiles. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
    “ I know exactly what I’m doing. Amelia, no gum while you’re at the desk.” Amelia nodded. Claire turned for the door. “Let’s go, Joe. I’m starving.”
    Mandy’s was full, though not as packed as the day before. Ignoring the slight hush that settled over the room when they entered, Claire and Joe got a booth at the back. They ordered.
    Before their food came, Eaton Slade, the local handyman, shuffled over. “Claire, you got a load for me?” He ran his fingers under the straps