Stormy Vows - Iris Johansen [7]
Brenna had cradled Janine's slender body, and rocked her in an agony of sympathy. “It'll be all right, honey,” she had whispered huskily.
“He doesn't want to see me anymore,” Janine had cried, her eyes wild. “He said I was a stupid fool not to protect myself. He said if I caused any trouble, he'd say the baby wasn't his… that I should get rid of ‘the little bastard.’” She shuddered convulsively.
Brenna felt a rage so terrible, that if Chadeaux had been in the room she would have killed him. “Forget him, Janine,” she'd said fiercely. “He's not worth another thought.”
“He's so evil,” Janine had said with childlike wonder, “I've never known anyone so evil. He wants to kill my baby. I can't let him do that, Brenna.”
“No, I know you can't, honey,” she'd said slowly, a chill running through her at the pathetic expression on Janine's face. Always balanced on the thin edge of reality, had this blow been too much for her? “We'll work something out. I promise you. Why don't you go to bed now?”
Janine rose obediently to her feet. “You're so strong, Brenna. You'll help me keep my baby.”
In the following months, the thought of the child growing inside her seemed to be the only thing that kept Janine from a complete breakdown. It would have been impossible for her to continue at Chadeaux Wineries, so Brenna insisted that Janine quit her job, and let Brenna assume the burden of responsibility for both of them. Janine obeyed with the docility of a child, and didn't even object when Brenna dropped out of school, and took a job in a neighborhood pharmacy. Brenna had some clerical skills that probably would have paid better, but it would have meant searching further afield for a job and leaving Janine alone too long.
Janine's obsession that Paul would harm her child continued. No amount of gentle persuasion on Brenna's part could convince her that Chadeaux would not suddenly appear and take the child away from her.
It was only after receiving a bill from the prenatal clinic in Janine's eighth month of pregnancy that Brenna realized the full extent of her sister's fear. The bill was for services to Brenna Sloan not Janine Sloan. When confronted with the bill, Janine had smiled tranquilly. “I had to do it, Brenna,” she'd said calmly. “It's the only way to protect my baby. I've thought it all out. I've been very clever.”
“What have you done, Janine?” Brenna had asked tiredly. “Why is my name on this bill?”
Janine had leaned forward and whispered confidentially, “Don't you see, we're going to pretend the baby is yours. Then Paul will have no legal right to the baby. It'll be your name on the birth certificate as the mother, not mine.”
“Janine, it won't work,” Brenna had said hopelessly, knowing her protests would do no good.
“Of course it will,” Janine had insisted serenely. “You'll see, Brenna. Everyone will think the baby's yours.” Her eyes clouded. “But the baby will really be mine, you know,” she had said jealously. “It's just pretend, like when we were children. You won't try to take my child away from me too?”
Tears had closed her throat as Brenna leaned forward to stroke her sister's thin cheek. “No, it will be just pretend, Love,” she'd said huskily.
Janine had never lived to enjoy her baby. Three days after giving birth to Randy, she had died of complications.
An indignant yell caused Brenna to sit bolt upright on the couch, dabbing quickly at her eyes. She was on her feet and into the other room with lithe swiftness. Randy broke off a yell and stretched out his arms invitingly. “Mama carry?” he wheedled, smiling angelically.
“Some nap, young man,” Brenna said sternly. She lifted him from the bed and held him close for a brief moment. He felt so good.
“Too tight, Mama,” he protested, wriggling vigorously.
In the two years since Janine's death she had never tried to deny the natural assumption that she was Randy's mother. Somehow she had felt that she