by Diana Palmer
“Violet…” he began softly.
“See you tomorrow, boss man,” she interrupted with a faint smile, and walked away.
Blake watched her go with odd twinges of guilt. If he’d been a proper fiancé, he’d have picked her up and carried her to his own car and driven her home. He’d have stayed with her, too. He didn’t understand his own nebulous feelings. He’d spent a miserable weekend trying to resolve them. The futility of his situation had made him moody. He resented the knowledge that Violet was pregnant. He resented the trapped feeling he’d had all weekend, which had kept him from phoning her, despite their passionate interlude in the office. The baby was as much his fault as hers, of course, but he wasn’t facing facts well. He was being selfish. It was just that his whole life had turned upside down. He was uneasy about being a husband, much less a father. He’d been alone for so long. But that was no reason to let Violet suffer for something that was his own fault. She was sick, and it was his responsibility to take care of her now.
Resolutely, he turned and started toward her car, but it was only in time to see her drive out of the parking lot. She was gone in a heartbeat and he felt like the world’s biggest louse. She was sick and he was letting her go home alone.
While he was debating his next step, and reaching into his pocket for his car keys, Libby stepped to the door to tell him he was wanted urgently on the phone. One of his clients had been arrested.
He went back inside, fate having decided the next move for him.
***
* * *
Violet cried all the way home. She’d hoped that Blake really cared about her, that he wanted her for keeps, that he’d be thrilled when he learned about the baby. But he already knew, God knew how, and he wasn’t thrilled. He was only marrying her for appearances. He felt trapped. He didn’t want Violet in any way at all, except perhaps physically. It was a harsh blow.
She stayed in her car until the tears stopped and she was able to act with some sort of normalcy. She checked her eyes in the mirror to make sure they weren’t red. She didn’t want to alarm her mother. About one thing Blake was right: her mother would be horrified if she knew about the baby.
With a forced smile, she called to her mother as she walked in. Mrs. Hardy looked up from her soap opera and waved and smiled absently, going right back to the action on the screen.
It was a reprieve. Violet went into her bedroom and changed into loose jeans and a sweatshirt. She did lay down for a few minutes, certain that her mother wouldn’t be moved by a hurricane until her program went off.
She had to make a decision, and quickly. She couldn’t hop on a bus and leave town. It would be impossible to move her mother right now, and not only because of the impending legal problems if Janet Collins was ever found and prosecuted for the death of Violet’s father. She couldn’t leave because her mother wouldn’t survive being uprooted. She loved Jacobsville.
That being the case, temporarily Violet had only one possible course of action. She had to get out of Blake’s office. She was uneasy about calling Duke Wright back and going to work for him again, but she didn’t have a list of potential employers. She wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy for a long time, but for several weeks at least she wouldn’t show. That gave her a little time to make decisions.
She picked up the phone and called her former boss.
* * *
Minutes later, she walked into the living room. The credits were rolling on Mrs. Hardy’s soap opera, and the elderly lady was drying her eyes.
“It was so sad,” she told Violet. “Harry had loved Eunice for years and years, and just when he asked her to marry him, he died of a heart attack.”
“Yes, that’s sad, all right.” She bent and kissed her mother gently. “How are you feeling?”
“I should be asking you that, dear,” she replied with a pointed stare. “You look very pale. Are you all right?”
“I think I’ve picked up a bug,” Violet told her. “I came home early. It was okay with the boss man,” she added with a forced smile. “I’m going to fix something nice for supper.”
“If you like,” Mrs. Hardy said, but she looked worried.
Violet wasn’t about to tell her the rest, that she’d just agreed to go back to work for Duke Wright. Her former employer hadn’t been able to replace her, and he was overjoyed that she was willing to come back.
The only bad thing was that she’d agreed to be in his office Monday. Now she had to tell Blake Kemp that she was leaving again, and why. It made her sick at her stomach even to contemplate it.
* * *
Blake phoned her as soon as he’d pacified his worried client, but Mrs. Hardy answered the phone and said she was sorry, but Violet had gone to bed with a headache. He hung up and went home. But he didn’t sleep.
All night long, his selfishness haunted him. Violet was sweet and kind, and she loved him. He could look for the rest of his life and never find a woman half as honest as she was. Ever since she’d come to work for him, she’d nurtured him, cared for him, to the extent that his heart lifted just at the sight of her in his office. Since they’d become intimate, his body ached for her night and day. He knew that he was her first man, that she wanted no one else. And now she was carrying his child under her heart. After all that, he’d proposed to her only because he felt an obligation, not because he wanted her or his child.
Now, with his mind finally functioning again, he realized what a lucky man he was. Why had it taken him so long to know it?
He got up before dawn and made himself a big breakfast. He was going to the most exclusive jewelry store in Jacobsville and he was going to buy Violet a diamond so big that it would blind her. Perhaps he’d felt trapped into proposing before, but he was only beginning to see what a wise thing he’d done. He was going to make Violet believe that she was the luckiest woman on earth. He’d bring her flowers, take her to the theater, buy her presents. He laughed at his own lightheartedness. He’d never felt so happy.
* * *
Violet sat down at her desk, somber and quiet on the following Monday morning. Her demeanor made her co-workers nervous. Especially when she started cleaning out her desk.
Blake walked in the door, smiling.
Violet looked up at him with an expression he couldn’t comprehend.
“What are you doing?” he asked suddenly, when he realized she was putting her things into a cardboard box.
“I’m going back to work for Duke Wright,” she said quietly.
He stood completely still, his mind not working at all as he stared at her, uncomprehending. “You’re quitting, again?” he exclaimed.
She glared at him. “Yes, I’m quitting!”
Mabel and Libby exchanged glances and rose at the same time from their desks. “We’re going over to the bakery for bear claws!” they announced, and ran for it.
“You just came back to work here!” Blake burst out, barely noticing the front door close behind the two women.
“And I’m just leaving!” she said, slamming down a stapler on the desk.
“Why?”
“Why?” she exclaimed. “How can you ask me that? You’re only marrying me because you know about the baby!”
His indrawn breath was all the confirmation she needed.
“Yes,” she said coldly, her anguish in her blue eyes as she looked up at him. “I know, Blake. I heard you talking on the phone.”
Talking on the phone. Talking… His mouth opened as he met her sad eyes. Dusky color tinted his high cheekbones and his teeth clenched. Damn fate for letting her overhear that indelicate conversation with Dr. Lou Coltrain. Why, why, hadn’t he closed the door?
Violet felt her last hope fly away as she saw his guilty expression. He had meant what he said, she thought. He was only marrying her to give their child a name and keep her mother from having a fatal stroke from the shame.
“A lot of marriages start with less than we have,” he said after a minute, choosing his words carefully.
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“But we’d have been starting without what matters most, Blake,” she told him. “Love.”
He almost blurted out that she loved him and he knew it. But that would put the last nail in his coffin. He didn’t dare say it.
He drew in a long breath. “I won’t try to stop you,” he said quietly. “If this is what you really want. But I wish you’d reconsider.”
She shook her head. “I don’t want to stay here with you feeling sorry for me and everybody speculating on why.”
“If you leave, you’ll hear plenty of speculating,” he replied with visible impatience.
She turned back to her desk, feeling empty inside. “I can’t stay.”
“Well, don’t expect me to try to stop you,” he replied furiously. “If you’d rather go out there and tell the whole planet that you’re pregnant and you won’t marry the father of your child, be my guest!”
“And that lovely sentiment is exactly why I’m leaving!” she raged. “You aren’t concerned about me, you’re concerned about what people think! Your reputation might be ruined, isn’t that it? You might lose clients!”
His eyes blazed at her. “What about your mother, Violet?” he shot back, seeing the point hit home as she winced. “How is she going to feel when she finds out?”
She bit her lip. “Mama will understand.”
“Think so?” he replied sarcastically. “How about Duke Wright?”
“Excuse me?”
“When you start showing, what is he going to think? And his employees, not to mention his ex-wife!” He glowered at her numb expression. “They’ll think it’s his!”
She gasped. “They…won’t!”
“Bull!”
She glared at him. It was just too much, all at once. She didn’t want to believe what he was saying, but it was the truth. Her face grew redder by the minute.
He glared right back. His eyes narrowed on her thickening waist. His expression changed. He’d never thought of children. At least, not since Shannon’s death. Now, he began to wonder what a child of his might look like. Would it have dark hair like his and Violet’s? Would it have blue eyes? Would it be a boy, or a little girl?
“You look…odd,” she commented.
“I was thinking about the baby,” he said absently, his eyes still on her waist. “I never really thought about being a father. I’ve been alone most of my adult life.”
“So have I,” Violet confessed.
“What do you want?” he asked, meeting her eyes levelly.
She blinked. “I…haven’t thought about that. Not much anyway.”
He moved a step closer. “What would you like to have?”
She was lost in his eyes. “Little girls are nice,” she ventured. “I like to knit and crochet and quilt. I could…teach her.”
His breath caught. A little girl. He thought about Rey Hart’s little girl. The family had come to see him about a minor legal matter and Celina came with them. She was barely six months old, dark-haired and fascinating to Blake. He’d watched her like a hawk, noting that Rey was a pushover for his daughter, to his wife Meredith’s amusement. The same could be true of Judd Dunn and Christabel’s twins. Everyone in town was indulgently amused at how easily a tough guy like Judd Dunn was reduced to putty when he held those babies.
“Little girls are nice,” he agreed softly.
“But I wouldn’t mind a boy, either. I like baseball and soccer,” she continued. “I can still bat and catch and kick.”
He smiled. “So can I.”
Her face fell as reality came rushing back. “You don’t really want a child, Blake,” she said sadly. “You’re doing the right thing, offering to marry me. But it wouldn’t work.”
“You don’t know that,” he said. “A lot of couples start out with less than we have. I said some stupid things on the phone, and you heard them. But I’m still in the early stages of this. You’ve had time to think about the baby. I haven’t.” He stuck his hands in his trouser pockets. “I don’t react well to change,” he said flatly. “I have to have time to work through what it’s going to mean.”
Violet sighed worriedly. “Yes, but you’d feel trapped.”
He shrugged. “Honestly, maybe I do, a little,” he confessed. “But that’s temporary. I just need a little time, Violet.”
“I know that. So do I.” She turned and went back to her desk, to the box she was packing up. “Duke’s willing to let me come back. I’m going. In a few weeks, when you know what you want, we can talk.”
“In a few weeks, you’ll be showing, Violet,” he replied shortly.
She turned. “I’m plump,” she said without heat. “I won’t show for a while.”
“Plump.” He smiled gently. “Womanly is a better adjective. You look lovely.”
Her eyebrows arched.
“I’m not trying to win you over,” he said when he saw her expression. “I actually mean it. There are a lot of things about you that I like. Besides, the cats like you.”
“Does that win me points?” she ventured.
He chuckled. “They don’t like many people. And they attacked a pizza delivery guy one night, one cat climbing up each leg. I have to pay extra now to get him to come back. And I have to promise to lock up Mee and Yow before he pulls into the driveway.”
“Ouch.”
“It could have been the anchovies, I guess,” he said in hindsight. He eyed her quietly. “All right, if you’re determined to leave again, I won’t stand in the way. But you have to do some thinking yourself. The person we both need to consider is the baby. He, or she, has no choice at all about this.”
She grimaced. “I didn’t think about…precautions.”
He smiled slowly. “We were both a little preoccupied. Both times.”
She flushed.
He laughed. “It was very good. I imagine I could search for the rest of my life and never find a woman who suited me so well, physically.”
She shrugged. “I thought men could find pleasure with anybody.”
“So they say. But I’ve stopped looking.”
The way he was looking at her made her toes curl in her shoes. He seemed to be genuine about his feelings. But he didn’t love her. And she did love him. It would be a poor match.
“I plan to call you, often,” he said. “I’m giving advance notice. Don’t think because I’m agreeing to let you leave, that it means I’m giving up on you. I’m not.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
“And I’d prefer it if you didn’t tell your mother we’re having problems,” he added. “She doesn’t need any more upsets.”
“Yes, I know. I won’t tell her,” she agreed, her head bent over the box.
“There’s a rumor that Duke’s wife may be coming down with their son, for a quick visit,” he added. “It may be for legal reasons, but I think she’s heard about the new lady vet who’s working for Wright.”
Her eyes twinkled. “Jealousy?”
“Who knows? But it would be nice if they could patch up their differences. A child needs two parents,” he added firmly, and he wasn’t talking just about the Wrights, Violet guessed.
“Yes. A child does need two,” she agreed.
He moved forward and picked up the box for her. His eyes were solemn. “I should have gone with you, the afternoon you left sick,” he said unexpectedly. “I was going after you when the phone rang and I had to placate a frightened client.”
“You were?” she exclaimed, surprised.
“I was. Open the door.”
She did, and he followed her through to the outside.
* * *
She eased her mother past the fact that she was going back to work for Duke Wright with a simple explanation—she and Blake weren’t getting much work done staring at each other, so she was solving their problem until they got married and settled down.
Her mother gave her an odd look, but she smiled and let it go.
True to his word, Blake called Violet every day. She was shy
at first, but he related the day’s happenings and the office gossip, and after a couple of days, it was very nice to have someone to talk to who knew everything that was going on around town.
* * *
But then Janet Collins was arrested in San Antonio and charged with the murder of Violet’s father.
As he had when the autopsy results on Mr. Hardy came in, Blake didn’t phone Violet. He went to Duke Wright’s house and delivered the news in person.
Violet’s expression wasn’t easily read. “What now?” she asked slowly, her hands poised over the keyboard of the computer.
“Now she gets formally charged with first degree murder. She’ll be arraigned next Monday in San Antonio.”
“Should Mother and I go, do you think?” she wondered, hoping not. It would be an ordeal to have to see the woman who’d killed her father.
“That’s not necessary,” he replied. “Although your mother will probably have to testify at the trial in order for us to get a conviction.”
“What good will that do?” Violet asked miserably. “It will only upset her. She never saw Janet with my father, anyway.”
Blake held up a hand. “I’m afraid she did,” he replied, watching her expression turn from worry to shock. “She never told you, but she walked in on them in the motel, just before your father collapsed and was taken to the hospital.”
“That’s where police got the trace evidence that linked her to poison,” Violet recalled, still battling shock about her mother’s secrecy all these years.
“Yes, and it was fortunate for us that your mother did walk in on them, because she’s not only an eyewitness, but her very presence shocked Janet into running for her life. In the process, she left behind the glass the poison was in. Her fingerprints are on it,” he added, “although nobody knows that except the crime lab, the police, and me. And now you,” he amended. “There’s more than enough evidence to convict her of murder. Your mother will provide the motive and eyewitness identification that links Janet to the motel room, your father, his bank account and her penniless state. They’ll try to introduce evidence from the previous poisoning of a patient in a nursing home who left her his estate. The old man’s son is more than willing to testify.”
