Always Dakota - Debbie Macomber [120]
“I said I don’t want a drink.”
She frowned at him over her shoulder. “You might not, but I do. Frankly, I need something to help me relax. I was up half the night with the baby. She’s already showing signs of a temper. Can you imagine? You should see her lower lip quiver when she doesn’t get what she wants.”
Sheryl poured herself a drink, then went into the bedroom.
Matt sank down on the edge of the sofa, but immediately stood as she returned with the baby. His heart pounded so loud, it echoed in his ears. Automatically he held out his arms for his child; Sheryl placed Hailey there, then stepped back as he took his first look at his daughter.
She was a tiny thing, he noted, just like Sheryl had said—so small she almost fit in the palms of his two hands. Her hair was dark and there was a lot of it. She didn’t look like him, but she didn’t resemble Sheryl, either.
“Don’t worry, she isn’t going to break.”
Matt sat down and carefully folded open the blanket, then bent to kiss her forehead.
“You wake her and you get to put her back to sleep,” Sheryl told him, taking a large gulp of her drink.
“I’ll do my best,” he whispered, awed by the strength of his emotions. He’d dreaded this for months and knew now that he had nothing to be afraid of. His daughter was incredible, beautiful, perfect.
“Pretty, isn’t she?” Sheryl asked proudly.
“Beautiful,” Matt whispered, using his index finger to brush a soft wisp of hair from her small face. This was the child who’d caused him such grief, yet all he could feel in that moment was love.
“People say she looks a lot like me.”
He grinned, unwilling to fall into that trap again. “Time will tell.”
Sheryl moved close and perched on the edge of the coffee table across from him. She leaned forward, pretending to study Hailey. Matt knew what she was really doing, and that was offering him a look at her generous breasts. He centered his concentration on his daughter, counting her fingers and toes.
“You want me to open the gifts?” Sheryl asked, gesturing at the bags.
Matt had purposely left them unwrapped. They weren’t gifts for Sheryl. Everything he’d purchased was for Hailey. “Margaret and I picked up a few things we thought you’d need.”
“How nice,” she responded, but sounded more perturbed than grateful.
Enthralled as he was with Hailey, Matt didn’t watch as Sheryl inspected the baby outfits and supplies he’d brought.
“So cute,” Sheryl said.
“She really is, isn’t she?”
“I was talking about this dress,” Sheryl told him.
Matt looked away from the baby. “Margaret picked it out.”
“Margaret, Margaret, Margaret! Is she all you can talk about?”
At Sheryl’s shrill voice, Hailey woke and started to fuss. Matt didn’t know much about babies, but he gently bounced her in his arms. That didn’t seem to help, so he placed her ever so carefully on his shoulder and patted her back.
“Answer me, dammit,” Sheryl demanded.
With Hailey wailing in his ear and Sheryl haranguing him, it took Matt a minute to compose himself. “Margaret’s my wife.”
“You’d never have married her if it wasn’t for me,” Sheryl said furiously. “You weren’t supposed to fall in love with her, you idiot. Why am I surprised? Why?” She stood and slapped her sides. “That woman’s no woman. I can’t believe you actually fell for her.”
Again Matt resisted correcting her. Insisting that Margaret was more woman than Sheryl could ever be wouldn’t improve the situation. As much as possible, he wanted to keep his relationship with Sheryl neutral, for Hailey’s sake.
“You were supposed to marry me,” Sheryl shouted. “How could you do this?”
The baby wailed louder still, and nothing Matt did seemed to comfort her.
“I’m sorry,” he said in an effort to appease Sheryl.
“Not sorry enough. What’s going to happen to us?” She glared at him, her eyes spitting anger.
“I’ll make regular child support payments and—”
“Not me and the baby,