Without thinking it through, she walked over to Troy and put an arm around him. “Honey,” she said. “Can we spill the beans a tiny bit early and tell Daisy and Susan our news?”
* * *
When Angelica put her arm around him, Troy almost fell off his crutches. She was so resistant to getting physically close that her act of affection stunned him. It took another moment for him to realize what she’d said.
Really? She wanted to tell his sister, who knew everyone in town and loved to talk, about their pseudoengagement?
Troy blinked in the dark kennel. Automatically, he hobbled over—his leg was bad today—toward one of the barking dogs in the front, a fellow named Crater for the ugly scar in the middle of his back, and opened the gate of his kennel. Crater leaped with joy and Troy knelt awkwardly to rub and pet him.
Then he looked back at Angelica.
She cocked her head to one side and raised her eyebrows. She must have had a reason for what she’d done; she wasn’t one to playact for no reason. And if he was going to marry her, maybe even to make it a good marriage, he needed to show her his trust. “Are you sure about this?”
“I think we should tell them.” She was communicating with her eyes, willing him to say something, and he only hoped he’d get it right.
“Okay,” he said, pushing himself to his feet and limping over to drape an arm around Angelica’s shoulders. “Guys...Angelica and I have decided to get married.”
There were no happy hugs, no shouts of joy. Daisy’s lips pressed together. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Of course,” he said. “We’ve...settled our differences.” He tightened his arm around Angelica for emphasis and noticed that she was shaking. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s Daisy. She’ll be happy for us!” He glared at his sister. “Won’t you?”
“Are you kidding?” Daisy was nothing if not blunt. “I can’t be happy to watch you setting yourself up for another fall.”
He felt Angelica cringe.
“Daisy!” Susan put a hand on her hip. “Be nice.”
Troy rubbed Angelica’s shoulder a little, still feeling her tension. “Look, the past is water under the bridge. We’ve started over, and we’d appreciate it if you would be supportive.” He frowned at Daisy. “For all of us, especially Xavier.”
He watched as his opinionated sister struggled with herself. Finally she nodded. “All right,” she said. “I’ll do my best.”
Angelica chimed in. “You said you’d always wanted to be an aunt. Well, now you’ll be one. Xavier will be thrilled to have a bigger family. We’ve been pretty much...” She cleared her throat. “Pretty much on our own, since my aunt passed away.”
For the millionth time, he wondered what had happened to make her leave him and leave town. And what had happened to Xavier’s father.
Apparently he wasn’t the only one. “One thing I’ve got to know,” Daisy said. “Who’s Xavier’s father if it’s not Troy?”
The question hung in the air. It was what Troy had wanted to ask but hadn’t had the guts to. Trust Daisy to get the difficult topics out into the open.
Angelica didn’t speak. She was staring at the ground as if the concrete floor held the answer to Daisy’s question.
“Well?” Daisy prompted. “If we’re all starting fresh, what better basis than honesty?”
Angelica looked up, shot a glance at Troy and then lifted her chin and met Daisy’s eyes. “I’m not at liberty to share that information,” she said. “It’s Xavier’s story, and when he’s old enough, he’ll decide who he wants to share it with. Until then, it’s private.”
“Does he even know?” Daisy blurted.
“No!” Angelica stood, crossed her arms and paced back and forth. “And I’d appreciate all of you avoiding the topic with him. He’s not old enough to understand, and I don’t want him to start questioning. Not yet.”
Something ugly twisted in Troy’s chest. He wanted to know, if only so he could watch out for the guy, keep him away from her in the future, know his enemy. To have that unknown rival out there made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.
“I guess that makes sense,” Daisy said doubtfully.
“Thank you for respecting my son’s right to privacy.”
As he accepted the forced hugs of his sister and pretended to be an excited, normal fiancé to Angelica, Troy had to wonder whether they were doing the right thing.
* * *
“I don’t know, man.” Troy’s friend Dion, the police chief of Rescue River, sat across from him at the table of the Chatterbox Café later that afternoon. They were drinking coffee and Troy had confided the truth about the marriage of convenience, knowing Dion could keep a secret. “I just don’t know. You say you’re doing it for Xavier, but Father God has His plans for that boy. What if He takes him young, him being so sick with leukemia? You going to divorce Angelica then?”
“No!” Troy’s coffee cup clattered into the saucer, liquid sloshing over the sides. “I wouldn’t leave her, not in her time of need, not ever.”
“Think she’ll stay with you?”
Troy drew in a breath and let it out in a sigh. “I hope so, but I can’t know for sure. She left me before.”
“And she won’t tell you who the daddy is?”
Troy shook his head. “Says it’s between her and Xavier, and she doesn’t want the whole town to know before he does. Says it’s his story to tell.”
Dion shook his head. “That’s a nice theory. But a man and his wife shouldn’t have secrets.” He rubbed a hand over his nearly shaved head. “Secrets destroy a marriage. I’m living proof of that.”
Troy nodded. Dion didn’t talk much about his marriage, but Troy knew there had been rough patches. Then they’d straightened things out, and then Dion’s wife had passed away. Dion had turned to God and he had a deeper faith than anyone else Troy knew, which was why he’d come to his friend with his own issue. “Do I try to force it out of her, though?” he asked. “Is it even my right to know?”
“All kinds of reasons to know about paternity,” Dion pointed out. He paused while the waitress, a little too interested in their conversation, poured them some more coffee. “Thanks, Felicity,” he said to her. “We won’t be needing anything else.”
After she left, Troy chuckled. “She’s curious what we’re talking about, and she’s even more curious what you’re doing Friday night.”
Dion shook his head. “Got a date with the baseball game on TV, just like usual. Anyway, what if something happened to Angelica? You’d need to know Xavier’s story. For his health, if nothing else, it’s important to know who his daddy is.”
“I guess.”
“Something else. Everybody in town gonna think you’re the daddy. Some already do. You okay with that?”
“What people say doesn’t matter.”
Dion looked out the window, a little smile on his face. “Maybe not,” he said finally. “But you won’t look like the good guy anymore. People might think you’ve been neglecting your duties.”
“What the gossips say doesn’t matter. Period.”
“Okay.” Dion studied him. “I believe you. Still, you gotta know.”
“You’ve convinced me of that.”
“Talk to her, man. But pray first. Because it’s not easy to be calm about the guy who got your girl pregnant, but in this situation, calm is what you’ll have to be.”
Troy nodded thoughtfully. How was he going to bring this up? One thing Dion was sure right about—he needed every bit of help the good Lord could offer him. Only thing was, he hated asking for help of any kind. Even from God.
Chapter Seven
Angelica was in the kitchen washing breakfast dishes when she heard the screeching of brakes out on the road.
“Zavey?”
She grabbed a dish towel on her way out the door, drying her hands as she climbed the slight rise to where she could see the road.
Her heart seemed to stop. Xavier was on his knees beside the road, screaming.
She practically flew over the ground until she reached him and saw the situation.
In front of Xavier, a couple of feet from the edge of the road, Bull lay in the gravel, his sturdy body twisted at an odd angle. A car was pulled halfway into the ditch across the road, and in front of it, a middle-aged woman pressed her hand to her mouth.
Heart pounding, Angelica knelt by her son, patting his arms and legs, examining him. “Are you okay?”
Xavier gulped and nodded and pointed toward Bull. “I’m... It’s my fault... I let him off his lead. I wanted him to play fetch.” His voice rose to a wail. “I think he’s dead.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” The driver came over and sank to her knees beside them, her voice shaking, tears streaking her face. “I didn’t see the dog, he came running out so fast...”
And suddenly Troy was there, kneeling awkwardly beside Bull.
“Oh, honey.” Angelica scooped Xavier up into her arms, reached out a hand to pat the stranger’s shoulder and leaned toward Troy and Bull, her heart aching at the sight of the still, twisted dog. “Is...is he alive?”
Busy examining Bull, Troy didn’t answer, so she set Xavier down and instructed him to stay out of Troy’s way. She took information from the distraught driver and walked her back to her vehicle, promising to call and let her know how the dog was, making sure the woman was calm enough to drive and able to back her car out of the ditch.
And then she knelt beside Troy and Xavier, putting her arm around her son.
“I’m sorry I let him off his lead! It’s my fault!” Xavier buried his face in her shoulder, weeping.
“Shh. It was an accident. You didn’t know.” She bit her lip and touched Troy’s arm. “Is he breathing?”
Troy took one quick glance toward them and then went back to examining the dog. “Yes, but he’s pretty badly injured. I’d like to do surgery right away. Here. No time to get to town.” He scanned the area. “Can you grab me a big board out of the shed? There’s a stack beside the door.”
“Of course. Xavier, stay here.” She ran to the shed and came back with a piece of plywood.
“Give me your hoodie,” Troy was saying to Xavier. “I’m going to wrap Bull up in it. T-shirt, too, buddy.”
Xavier shucked his hoodie and started pulling off his T-shirt, shivering in the chilly morning air.
Her son was so vulnerable to colds. “But, Troy, he shouldn’t—”
“I can do it, Mom!” Xavier’s trembly voice firmed up and he sniffed loudly and wiped his face on the T-shirt before handing it over to Troy.
“We need to keep Bull warm,” Troy explained in a calm voice, slipping out of his own much larger T-shirt and kneeling to cover the old bulldog. “And,” he said, lowering his voice so only Angelica could hear, “Xavier needs to help.”
Gratitude spread through Angelica’s chest. “Thank you.” She knelt and helped him ease the dog onto the wide wooden plank she’d found.
Bull yelped once and his old eyes opened, then closed again. His breathing came in hard bursts.
Together, Angelica and Troy lifted the makeshift stretcher. Once, Troy lurched hard to one side, and it took both Xavier and Angelica to steady Bull. Angelica’s heart twisted when she saw that a smear of blood had gotten on Xavier’s hand. With his medical history, he was oversensitive to blood.
But he just wiped his hand on his jeans. “Where are your crutches, Mr. Troy?”
“Dumped ’em. Come on.”
Worry pinged Angelica’s heart. Troy had been to the doctor just yesterday and had gotten another full cast and a warning that he was putting too much weight on his leg.
“Can you fix him?” Xavier asked as they walked toward the kennel building.
Troy glanced down at Xavier. “They say I’m good,” he tried to joke, but his voice cracked. He was limping badly now.
Angelica gulped in a breath. “Who can I call to help?”
“Buck’s my only trained surgical assistant, but I’m not having him on the property. I’ll manage.”
“I’ll help as best I can.” But how would she do that? she wondered; Lou Ann wasn’t here and Xavier needed her. He couldn’t watch the surgery.
They got Bull to the kennel and onto the small examining table Troy had for emergencies.
“You’ve gotta fix him, Mr. Troy! I love him!”
“I know, son.” Troy turned to Xavier. “Watch him, and if he starts to move, hold him while I wash up and prep. Angelica, you help him.”
“Okay. But I don’t think Xavier should stick around.”
By the time Troy had assembled his instruments and gotten back to the dog, he had to lean hard on the operating table, and Angelica saw his face twist with pain.
How would he stand, possibly for several hours, and do delicate surgery without help?
Angelica hurried Xavier outside and pulled out her phone. Buck had given her his number when they were going to go out, and hopefully... Good, she’d never deleted it. She hit the call button.
“Hey, Angie,” he said, sounding sleepy.
“I’ve got an emergency,” she said, not bothering to greet him. “Listen, are you sober?”
“Yeah. Just woke up.”
“Can you come out to the farm and help Troy with a surgery? Bull is hurt.”
“Be right there.”
She went back in and helped Troy hold Bull still and administer something with a needle. As he ran careful hands over the dog’s leg, his face was set, jaw clenched.
“Is he gonna be okay, Mr. Troy?” Xavier asked from the doorway.
Angelica and Troy met each other’s eyes over the table.
“I don’t know,” Troy said, his voice husky. “I’m going to do my very best. You’ve been a big help.”
The dog’s laceration looked bad, but as Troy continued to examine it, his face relaxed a little. “I don’t think any internal organs are affected, though we can’t be sure about that. It’s the leg I’m worried about. I’ll try to pin it, but I’m not sure it’ll work.”
“You can fix him. Right?” Xavier’s voice was hopeful.
Troy turned to her son. “It’s hard to tell,” he said. “He’s an older guy, and I had to give him strong medicine to make him sleep. That’s hard on him. And his leg might be the more serious injury. We just don’t know, buddy.”
The anesthetic had set in and Troy was just starting to clean the wound when a car sounded. “Can you see who that is?” Troy said without looking up.
She went out, opened the door and let Buck in. “He’s just getting started,” she said. “Let me walk back with you. He doesn’t know you’re here.”
Buck, already dressed in scrubs, followed her in.
“Troy, I have Buck here to help you.”
Troy’s shoulders stiffened. “How’d you manage that?”
“I have his number from before.”
No answer.
“Stone-cold sober, man, and ready to help.” Buck pulled on some gloves. He glanced up at Troy’s face. “Whoa, chill. I’m here by invitation. And truth is, you look like you could use the help. Sure you didn’t get hit, too?”
Troy’s glance at Angelica was as cold as ice.
She swallowed hard. “I’m going to tend to Xavier. He needs to get inside, get cleaned up and rest.”
“Fine.” He turned away.
Letting her know things were anything but fine.
* * *
The surgery took longer than Troy expected, and operating on his own pet threw professional ob
jectivity right out the window. Armstrong’s help was crucial, but even with it, the outcome was touch and go.
Discouraged, his leg on fire with the pain of standing without support for several hours, Troy cleaned up while Buck finished bandaging Bull. Troy watched the younger man easily manage the heavy dog in one arm while he opened the crate door with the other, and the anger he’d shoved aside during the delicate surgery rushed back in.
Since when was Angelica in touch with Buck? How often did they talk, get together? Why hadn’t she mentioned the friendship if, in fact, it was innocent?
He could barely manage to thank Buck, and the other man’s cheerful “Anytime, my man” rang as guilty in Troy’s ears. When they walked out together, Buck held the door for him and then checked his phone and jogged off toward his Jeep and swung in. Leaving Troy to hobble toward the house on both crutches, wanting nothing more than some pain medication and a place to put his leg up.
Angelica greeted him at the door. “How is he?”
Just looking at her made his stomach roil. “The dog or your boyfriend?”
She paled. “What?”
He clenched his jaw. “Bull is resting peacefully, but it’ll be a few days before we know how well he does. He did come out of the anesthesia, so he’s at least survived that.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful.” She backed away from the door to let him by. “But, Troy, what did you mean by that other crack?”
He spun, faced her down. “Why did you keep Armstrong’s phone number? How long have you had something going on with him?”
Her forehead wrinkled. “I don’t have anything going on with anybody.”
To Troy’s ears, her denial sounded forced. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned away from her. “I’m beat. I’m going to get some rest.”
“I’ll take care of the dogs,” she said, her voice hesitant. “But I don’t want to have this stand between us. I had Buck’s phone number because I never deleted it from before. Not because I’m seeing him.”
Engaged to the Single Mom Page 8
