And that was Jonathan’s real worry. He wasn’t disgruntled because he would miss her in a romantic sense, but because his business might suffer in her absence. The satellite pod they had sent up six weeks ago—it had been Grace’s idea to name it Podly, because it reminded her of a long pea pod housing several delicate computers—was finally functioning to full capacity. And she was the only person at StarShip Spaceline who could decipher the data Podly sent back.
It was the race into space all over again, only this time it was not the Russians against the Americans. This new race involved private companies competing for the future market of civilian space travel. StarShip Spaceline was in a heated battle with two other private programs, one based in Europe, the other in Japan. And all three of them were on the verge of perfecting alternative forms of propulsion.
Solid rocket fuel, the propulsion used in the NASA space program, was inefficient. Simply put, it weighed too much. The shuttle had to be strapped to a rocket that was several times its size and weight just to get out of the Earth’s atmosphere.
Alternative forms, such as ion propulsion or microwaves or antimatter, however, could make space travel a moneymaking venture and even make possible the colonization of the moon and Mars.
Basically, it all boiled down to mathematical physics.
And that was where Grace fit into the picture. She was StarShip Spaceline’s resident mathematician. She crunched the numbers and was the troubleshooter for the theories. She could look at a schematic and tell, using mathematical formulas, if it was viable or not.
In just the eighteen months that she’d worked for StarShip, Grace had saved Jonathan Stanhope’s company millions of dollars by disproving theories before they were put into action.
Podly was orbiting Earth right now, and there was great hope that the data it sent back would end the race for a new form of fuel in StarShip’s favor.
“I can receive Podly’s data in Maine just as well as I can here, Jonathan,” she assured him. “I have the satellite link and my computer already packed.”
“But what about your other projects?”
“Carl and Simon have been working on them these past four weeks without any problems. I see no reason why they can’t continue.”
She walked over to her closet and pulled down another bag to fill with diapers. She turned to find Jonathan blocking her path again. His features had softened, and his eyes were once again the intelligent hazel gray she had been falling in love with these past eighteen months.
“Grace. About the baby,” he said softly.
“What about him?”
“Is he going to be with you when you return?”
Well now, that was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question, wasn’t it? Grace tried to remember which half-truths she had told Jonathan, as well as which lies she had told the social workers and her brothers.
And what about the half-truths she had told Emma, the kindly nurse from the hospital who had been sympathetic enough to give up her vacation and help Grace with Baby these last four weeks?
“That’s what I’m going to Maine to find out,” she told Jonathan.
“The boy belongs with his father.”
“He belongs with the person who can best care for him,” she countered.
“You promised your sister,” he reminded her. He took her by the shoulders again, but this time his touch was gentle. His expression, however, was not. “You’re not dealing with Mary’s death, Grace,” he said,
“because as long as you continue to hold on to her, you won’t have to keep your promise.”
“That’s not true.”
He reached up and pushed an unruly strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “She’s sitting in the middle of your kitchen table right now. You’ve put your sister in an Oreo cookie tin, and you talk to her.”
Grace stood her ground, refusing to let him see her pain. “She’s my baby sister, Jonathan. You want me sticking her in a closet? Or maybe I should just FedEx her to Pine Creek? Mary loved Oreo cookies. I can’t think of any place she’d rather be right now, until the Summer Solstice, when I’m supposed to put her to rest on TarStone Mountain.”
“The Summer Solstice is four months away,” he said, looking angry again. “I told you last week when you asked for this leave of absence that four months is too long. You’ve had one month already, and that
’s all I can spare right now.”
“I’m taking four more months, Jonathan,” she told him succinctly, bracing herself for a fight. “I owe that much to Mary and to Baby.”
“You need to let go of her, Grace,” he repeated, suddenly pulling her into his arms and hugging her tightly.
Grace sighed into his shoulder. She liked being in Jonathan’s arms—usually. Heck, the few dates they’d been on had been showing great promise for a future together. Why, then, was she feeling disappointed?
Could it be that this thoroughly modern, success-driven man she so admired didn’t have a sensitive bone in his body? Could he really be this selfish, not to understand why she had to make things right with her sister?
“You need to go to Maine, find the kid’s father, and move on with your life,” he continued over her head.
“Your sister has all but pulled you into the grave with her.” He leaned back to see her. “Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re in jogging pants and a sweatshirt, for Christ’s sake. The same ones you were wearing yesterday.”
“They clean easier,” she said, pulling away and stuffing the bag full of diapers. “Baby spit and formula do not go well with silk.”
“And that’s another thing,” he continued to her back. “You’re a scientist, not a mother. You don’t know the first thing about raising a child. Hell, you can’t even get the snaps on his suits right. The kid looks as disheveled as you do lately.”
He took her by the shoulders again as soon as she turned to face him, making her drop the bag of diapers on the floor. “Grace,” he whispered, his expression more desperate than angry. “Don’t go. Not now. Wait until Podly lands in August, then go to Maine. It will be safer then.”
“Safer?”
“It will be better,” he amended. “Once the pod is safely landed and back in our hands, then you can leave.”
“That’s two months too late, Jonathan. I’ll miss the Solstice. And I have to deal with Mary’s estate. I can
’t just leave everything hanging for another six months. People in Pine Creek will wonder what happened to her.”
“Call them,” he said, squeezing her shoulders. “And call the kid’s father and have him come get his son. It
’s the practical thing to do.”
“For you,” Grace hissed, pulling out of his grip and picking up the diaper bag. She straightened and glared at him. “You don’t announce a person’s death over the phone, and you sure as heck don’t call a man and tell him the woman he loves is dead and ‘oh, by the way, she left you a son.’”
Grace left the room before she brained her boss with the bag of diapers. She all but ran into the living room, only to stop at the sight of Emma feeding Baby.
Emma looked up and glared at a spot behind Grace, and Grace knew that Jonathan was standing behind her.
“I’ll put your suitcase in my car,” he said through gritted teeth. “Place whatever else you want to take by the door, and I’ll get it.”
“I’ll put them in my car,” she said, turning to face him. “Emma is driving Baby and me to the airport.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I guess I have no say in the matter,” he said, his eyes still sharp with anger. “You know how much StarShip needs your expertise.” His jaw tightened, and he pointed a finger at her. “I’ll expect daily reports on Podly from you while you’re gone—and it better not be for four months,” he finished with a growl, just before he turned and silently walked out the door and headed for his car parked on the street.