by Gina Wilkins
Andrew’s chuckles sounded a bit strained—understandably. She figured her own smiles would look forced to anyone studying her too closely, but she was fairly confident she was getting away with them for now.
She was going to have a firm talk with her grandmother later. This situation was difficult enough; it would be untenable if Mimi decided to try matchmaking between Hannah and Andrew while he was here. Mimi meant well of course, and she had no idea Andrew was the father of Hannah’s baby. Once she found out the truth, the pressure would intensify. If there was one overwhelming thing Hannah did not want, it was for Andrew to feel obligated to propose to her just because her family—or his, for that matter—expected him to do so. The very idea depressed her.
Even though the family usually sat around chatting after meals, Hannah didn’t linger long. She helped clear away, then claimed weariness, having started that day much too early. Her sister walked her home.
“Thanks for the rescue during dinner, Maggie,” Hannah said when they reached her door.
Maggie chuckled ruefully. “You’re welcome. I saw the look Mom shot at Mimi. I’m sure she’ll ask her not to make future gatherings so awkward for you.”
“I hope so.”
Laughing a little, Maggie shook her head. “You have to give Mimi credit for nerve. She’s determined to find you a husband. Could she have been any more blatant about trying to fix you up with Andrew?”
“I thought I was going to slide right under the table.”
Maggie patted her arm. “I’m sure you did, but you have to admit Mimi has good taste. Andrew’s a catch.”
Hannah shot a frown at her sister. “You aren’t suggesting—”
Maggie held up both hands in a quick gesture of surrender. “No agenda at all here. Just saying. It seemed like there was a little chemistry between you last year.”
“Chemistry? You mean when he was helping us stop my jerk of an ex-husband from bankrupting the resort? When I had to tell him that my judgment was so bad that I’d married a man who cared only about what I or my family could do to make his life easier? That I was so stupid and naive I let my head be turned by flattery and empty promises?”
Maggie’s amusement had faded during Hannah’s bitter tirade. “Um, sis—”
“Or maybe I look better to him now,” Hannah continued on a roll, gesturing meaningfully toward her midsection. “Accidentally pregnant at my age. Still paying off the bills my jailbird ex left me responsible for. Still so freaking angry and mortified that I—”
Hearing her own words, she stopped and shook her head. “Would you listen to me? Sorry, Mags, I guess the pregnancy hormones just kicked into overdrive. Seriously, I’m not interested in getting romantically involved with Andrew or anyone else. I tried the happily-ever-after thing and I failed miserably at it. Now all I need, all I want, is to make a home for my child, to ensure that he or she is loved and safe and happy while I continue with my work here. I really just don’t have the time or the energy to take on anything else for the foreseeable future. So let’s just drop it, okay? I’m turning in now.”
Still looking concerned, her sister gave her a hug. “You’ll call if you need me?”
“Of course, but I’m fine, really. Just tired. See you in the morning, okay?”
“Sleep in. We’ve got everything covered in the office.”
“I’m ready to get back to work. Too much free time is obviously bad for my mood.”
Only partially mollified, Maggie turned toward her own place, leaving Hannah to lock herself in her trailer, where she promptly covered her face with her hands and burst into tears, overwhelmed by the events of the day.
* * *
Andrew waited until both sisters were closed in their homes before turning and walking silently down the road. He stayed in the shadows, not wanting to be seen. He’d had enough experience with undercover work to be assured he was successful. His brother was preoccupied with Shelby, having moved into her trailer only that very afternoon, and the rest of the Bells were getting ready to turn in before starting another busy day early in the morning. Hoping to have a chance to talk privately with Hannah without anyone being the wiser, Andrew had told everyone good-night and said he wanted to take a walk before returning to his room for the night. That was how he’d ended up an unintentional eavesdropper on Hannah’s conversation with her sister.
Making the half mile or so walk from the family compound to the motel, he took in the sights, sounds and smells of a summer evening in a camping-and-fishing resort. Only a few boats were still on the water at this hour. He heard the muffled roar of motors accompanied by glimpses of red, green and white running lights he spotted through the trees. Wisps of smoke from campfires drifted through the resort, and he fancied he could smell toasting marshmallows on the breeze. A few cars and pickups entered and exited the main gate, some towing boats after a day’s water play. Muffled sounds were just audible from the campgrounds—bursts of laughter, the occasional high-pitched squeal from a child, a couple of yaps from what sounded like a small dog. An idyllic, slow-paced haven, it seemed far away from the hustle and bustle of the real world, a long way from Andrew’s busy life in Dallas.
He paused at the intersection of the main road and the private drive, looking back over his shoulder at the dark stretch where Shelby had been taken. Proof, he thought grimly, of how easily the outside evils could invade even this diligently maintained paradise. While he was here, maybe he’d look over the resort’s security practices. He wanted to make sure she—um, the whole family—was safe here, he quickly corrected himself.
That was the least he could do for Hannah for now. She’d made it clear enough that she wasn’t interested in anything more from him.
* * *
It felt good to Hannah to be back at work after visiting her mother’s family in Louisiana for the past ten days. She’d gone there to break the news to her extended family about her impending motherhood and had been gratified that her relatives on that side were as supportive as the Bell family. Her widowed grandmother was already busily crocheting a delicate baby blanket that she’d promised to mail as soon as it was completed.
She spent Tuesday morning taking reservations by phone, updating the resort’s social media pages and website with new photos her sister had snapped around the place and checking in a few guests. Three thirtysomething men with a three-day reservation for Cabin 5 wandered in just before noon, dressed in board shorts, T-shirts and sandals, ready for a few days of fishing and beer drinking. Judging by their behavior, Hannah suspected two of the three had gotten an early start on the latter; she hoped the other man had been the designated driver.
A tall, lanky man with a thinning mop of brown hair and beer-glazed brown eyes did an exaggerated double-take when he saw Hannah sitting behind the reception desk. He made a point of checking out her bare left hand, then smiled at her with what she assumed was meant to be irresistible charm. “Wow, when the owners of this place advertised beautiful scenery, they weren’t kidding.”
His two companions groaned in response to the outrageous pickup line. Well-accustomed to fending off passes from overly optimistic guests, Hannah merely smiled, looked at the reservation on her computer screen and asked, “Which of you is Nathan Burns?”
“That would be me,” the supposedly sober man said. “Need my signature?”
She slid a form toward him. “Yes, please.”
Skinny Romeo, as she’d mentally dubbed him, rested a hip on a corner of the desk. “The guys and I brought some big ol’ steaks for the grill and plenty of beer and wine. Maybe after you get off work, you could join us for dinner?”
“Thank you,” she said, barely glancing at him, “but I have plans. Linens and household items are provided in your cabin, but please let us know if you need anything. The convenience store, marina and grill in this building are open until seven.”
“We brought Stu’s fancy ski boat—it’s a honey. Maybe you’d find a little time to go out on the water with us
while we’re here? We’ll take a cooler full of beers on ice, have a great time.”
“No,” she said simply. “And please remember to have a designated driver when you’re boating. BWI laws are strictly enforced on the lake. Let me get your keys for you.”
She stood and opened the locked cabinet in which the keys to the cabins and motel rooms were stored. She heard a snort and a snicker behind her.
“Way to go, Bill. You’ve been hitting on a woman who’s preggers,” Stu said in a mocking whisper she probably wasn’t supposed to hear.
“Not only that, he was shot down by her,” Nathan added with relish.
Three keys dangling from her hand, Hannah turned to see Skinny Romeo—Bill—flushed with embarrassment, his eyes sparking with irritation. “You could have said something,” he muttered to Hannah, who resisted pointing out that her condition was none of his business. And then he pasted on a forced, self-deprecating grin for the sake of his companions and shrugged. “Just practicing for all the bikini babes we’ll be seeing on the beach the next three days.”
Stu gave him a rough shove toward the door. “Like you’ve got a shot with any of them. Not to mention your fiancée would serve your innards to the dog if she found out. Now go on so we can get unpacked in time to do some fishing before dinner.”
“Steffie’s not my fiancée,” Bill grumbled on the way out.
“Yeah, well, she sure seems to think she is,” one of the men retorted. Hannah didn’t notice or care which because she’d already turned her attention to the next customer, an unaccompanied woman with faded red hair, heavy-lidded green eyes and frown lines carved around her unpainted mouth.
The woman was probably in her early thirties, pear-shaped, dressed in a too-tight T-shirt and denim capris with flip-flops. Her only attempt at makeup seemed to be the mascara that had smudged beneath her eyes. Hannah’s instant impression was that of a woman who’d given up on her appearance for some reason. It was almost as if a gray cloud accompanied her into the building, a fanciful impression Hannah shook off impatiently.
“May I help you?” she asked with a welcoming smile.
“Jerks, huh?” the newcomer asked with a vague gesture toward the door through which the men had just departed. “I couldn’t help overhearing some of what they were saying to you. You were pretty nice considering how pushy they were being.”
Hannah didn’t gossip about guests with other guests. “What can I do for you?” she asked without directly responding.
Accepting the hint, the woman nodded and tightened her grip on the red handbag she carried beneath one arm. “I’m looking for a motel room for a couple of nights. Someone in town told me this is a nice place to stay. I don’t have a reservation.”
“We have a few vacancies. Single or double?”
“Single. It’s just me—I needed to get away from everything for a little while.”
Hannah nodded and handed the woman a check-in form. “And how long will you be staying with us?”
“A few nights, I guess. Three, maybe four. Do I have to tell you now?”
Assuring the woman, whose name turned out to be Patricia Gibson, that she could stay as long as she wanted, Hannah completed the check-in and assigned her a lower-floor room in the motel. “We provide daily maid service unless you hang the do-not-disturb sign on your door. Linens, a mini-fridge and a flat-screen TV are also provided. Feel free to use the pool or lake swim beach, and there are grills and picnic tables in the day-use area by the beach.”
She added the usual spiel for the diner and convenience store located on opposite sides of the reception desk. “Do you have any more questions?”
“It sounds real nice,” Patricia murmured, picking up the key on a big plastic tag marked with her room number. “What was your name again?”
She had neglected to introduce herself, Hannah realized. She smiled apologetically. “I’m Hannah Bell.”
The key clattered noisily on the tile floor when Patricia dropped it. Making a face, she laughed softly and bent to scoop it up. “That’s why I needed a break. I’m so tired from working that my hands have gone clumsy. I’m sorry, I missed your name. Did you say Anna?”
“Hannah. Hannah Bell.”
“Bell. So you own this resort?”
“It’s a family business.”
“I see.” Tucking the key into an outside pocket of her purse, Patricia turned toward the door, but said over her shoulder, “This summer heat is a killer when you’re pregnant, isn’t it?”
“It can be,” Hannah agreed lightly.
“I was pregnant this time last year. I had a miscarriage, though.”
“Oh.” Hannah struggled to think of something to say in response to the unexpected confidence. “I’m sorry.”
Patricia shrugged. “It was for the best, I guess. I wasn’t married. Hard to do it on your own.”
Fortunately, she left before Hannah had to respond. It seemed to be her day for disconcerting encounters, a thought reinforced when Andrew wandered in.
He greeted her with one of his faint smiles that did not lighten his dark eyes, which were focused intensely on her face. “How’s your day going?” he asked.
“It’s been pretty weird so far,” she replied candidly. “Yours?”
“I’ve been talking with your dad and your uncle about some new security measures for the resort. They’ve asked me to do a full analysis and make some suggestions.”
Hannah nodded. “That sounds like a good plan. I hope you’re charging them your standard consultation rates.”
He merely gave her a look.
She sighed. “Andrew, you don’t owe my family any favors. It’s the other way around actually.”
“We’re not talking about money right now, though you and I need to make some arrangements soon.”
She looked around quickly to make sure no one had overheard, but while she heard voices from the diner and the store, the reception area was deserted for now. “Andrew—”
“Well, hello, there.” Mimi bustled up with a bright smile at finding Andrew talking with Hannah. “What are you two chatting about?”
Andrew turned easily to greet Hannah’s grandmother. “I was just about to have lunch in the grill. Thought I’d stop in to say hello to Hannah first.”
“Hannah can join you for lunch,” Mimi said, beaming. “I just came to relieve her at the desk for a while. I’ve already eaten. I think I saw some of the other family in the diner, so you two run along and join them.”
“I was going to have lunch a little later, Mimi,” Hannah protested weakly.
“You need a break, sweetheart. No need to rush back, I’ll be fine here if you young folks want to take a walk through the resort after lunch. There’s a nice breeze down by the water today.”
So either her mom hadn’t yet spoken to Mimi about her matchmaking scheme for Hannah, or the talk hadn’t been successful. Hannah sighed, but knew there was no use arguing with Mimi now, especially in front of Andrew. She stood and smoothed the loose pink summer top she wore with thin khaki slacks. “Okay, fine. I’ll take my lunch break now.”
Nodding in satisfaction, Mimi took her place behind the desk, pulling a thick paperback out of her bag to occupy her until she was needed. Hannah knew her grandmother would be quite content to spend the rest of the day sitting in that comfortable chair with her book, especially if she believed her granddaughter was being courted by a respectable man in the meantime. She didn’t even want to think of the pressure Mimi—and probably the rest of the family—would put on them once they learned Andrew was her baby’s father.
“Listen, maybe we could cut out of here and eat lunch somewhere else?” Andrew asked in a low voice as soon as they were out of her grandmother’s sight and hearing. “We really need to—”
“Oh, hi, guys.” Shelby slid in between them, looping her hands beneath their arms. “Heading in for lunch? So am I. I’ve been working on the books all morning without a break and now I’m starving. Aaron’s supposed to
meet me in the grill. Why don’t you two join us?”
Andrew gave Hannah a look over her cousin’s curly blond head, and she might have been amused under any other circumstances. It was rare to see Andrew looking totally flummoxed, but she thought that word was a good description for the expression in his narrowed eyes. He was probably beginning to wonder if they would ever have a chance to talk in private. She supposed she should be working harder to make arrangements for that discussion, rather than putting it off. But to be fair, he’d shown up only the day before. There hadn’t been a lot of time for her to come to terms with all of this yet.
“Sure,” Andrew said to Shelby, his tone completely bland. “We’d love to join you, wouldn’t we, Hannah?”
She gave him a weak smile. “Why not?”
* * *
Andrew had not been this frustrated in a long time. He sat in his room Wednesday night at almost ten, uninterested in watching television. His computer screen displayed work-related data he should be looking over but wasn’t. More than twenty-four hours after Shelby dragged Hannah and him into the diner for Hannah’s lunch break, Andrew had yet to speak with Hannah alone again. Every time they’d been even close to a private conversation, one of her family members or a resort guest had interrupted them. Had he not been close to tearing his hair out with exasperation, the comedy of errors might have been wryly amusing. Or was Hannah deliberately using those seemingly random interruptions as an excuse to continue delaying their talk?
Too restless to stay put any longer, he let himself out of the room and headed out into the still-warm night air. He liked walking through the resort at this hour as campers and guests settled in for the night, making it possible to hear the crickets and frogs coming from the lakeside. He passed an older couple walking hand in hand along the road and swapped greetings with them. They, too, seemed to be enjoying the cooler temperature of evening. They looked comfortable together, he thought, glancing over his shoulder at them. Content to be spending their twilight years together.
