by Judy Duarte
“All done?” Monique stood at his elbow.
“Yeah. It was terrific, as always.”
She took his plate. “Wait till you see the dessert cart. On the house for you, Seth.”
“Thanks, Monique. Just the check.”
And off she went, returning in no time with the bill. He gave her his credit card. Not three minutes after that, she set down the leather check folder on the white tablecloth. He put his card away and picked up the pen.
“So. Jody seems to be doing great, don’t you think, all round and rosy?” It was Monique. For some reason, she’d remained standing right behind him.
He added the tip and scratched in his signature. “Jody?”
Monique leaned a little closer and spoke very softly. “Jody Bravo.”
He remembered then. Jody Bravo. Pretty brunette. Daughter of Frank Bravo, deceased, and Frank’s second wife, Willow Mooney Bravo. Willow Bravo was a piece of work. She’d carried on a decades-long affair with Frank while his rich first wife, Sondra, was still alive. Sondra had given Frank four children. Pretty much simultaneously, Willow had given him five. Including Jody, who owned a flower shop on Central.
Jody and Nick had been friends there for a while, at the end.
Monique said, “She’s due next month, right?”
This was getting weird. “Due to...?”
“Have the baby, of course.”
Evidently, Jody Bravo was pregnant. Given that she’d been a friend of Nicky’s, he probably should have known that.
But why, exactly, did Monique Hightower think she ought to bring it up to him?
He dropped the pen on the open check folder. “Monique.”
“Yeah?”
“Come on around here where I can see you.”
She sidled into his line of sight looking uncomfortable now, giving him big eyes and a sweet never-mind of a smile. “So. Can I get you anything else?”
He hit her with his lawman’s stare, dead-on with zero humor. “You went this far. Better finish it, whatever it is.”
“Ahem.” She slid a glance toward the kitchen, scoping out the location of her boss, no doubt. “I...thought you knew, that’s all.”
“Knew what?”
“Well, I mean that the baby Jody’s having...” The sentence wandered off into nowhere.
“Go on.”
“Well, Seth. It’s, um, Nick’s baby.”
Nick’s baby.
Seth heard a strange roaring in his ears, as though the ocean were right outside the window, giant waves beating on that pretty shaded patio. “Did you just say that Jody Bravo is having Nick’s baby?”
Monique’s curly knot of hair bobbed frantically with her nod. She leaned close and whispered, “I can’t believe you haven’t heard. I mean, I know he was your stepbrother, but you two were closer than most blood-related brothers. And it’s not as if Jody’s been keeping it a secret. Everybody knows that baby is Nick’s, that it’s a girl, due at the end of May.”
The roaring of the invisible ocean got louder.
...it’s a girl. Everybody knows...
Everybody but him.
Come to think of it, Nicky’d had a crush on that Bravo woman, hadn’t he?
That was back in the late summer and fall, not long before Nick died. Nick had told Seth he had a thing for Jody, but that Jody didn’t feel the same, so they were “just friends.”
Just friends. That had pissed Seth off. He’d wondered if that Bravo woman was leading his little brother on. After all, she had to be, what, eight or nine years older than Nick?
And Nicky had always been too easy, too tender and open, his big heart just begging for someone to break it. Maybe Jody Bravo had some idea that Nick wasn’t good enough for her because he was a simple guy, happy to work the family ranch for a living, a guy who hadn’t been to some fancy college.
If so, she was a fool. There was no man better than Nick.
And wait a minute. She came to the funeral, didn’t she? Walked right up and shook Seth’s hand, said how sorry she was.
But she didn’t say a single word about any baby.
“Oh, look,” Monique piped up nervously. “One of my other customers needs more coffee. Good to see you, Seth. Have a great day...” She was already bouncing away.
Seth let her go. He needed more information, but he knew better than to seek it from Monique. The invisible ocean still roaring inside his head, he rose, pushed his chair back under the table and headed for the door.
Once back in his cruiser, he started the engine and got out of there, turning back onto the highway going east, away from town. For a while, he just drove, tuning out the chatter on the scanner, willing his blood to stop thundering through his veins.
Had he planned to go home? Kind of. But he didn’t. He blew right by the turnoff to the Bar-Y.
Maybe it wasn’t even true. Monique was hardly a reliable source, after all; she could so easily be wrong about everything, or even lying.
But what if it was true?
Was that Bravo woman ever planning to tell him?
Halfway to I-25, at the small town of Lyons, he did turn the cruiser around. He went back the way he’d come. But he didn’t take the turnoff to the Bar-Y then, either. He drove on past it and straight into town, where he found a parking place right on Central a few doors down from Jody Bravo’s flower shop.
At twenty past six, he stood between the tubs of bright flowers and thick greenery that flanked the shop’s glass door. His pulse thundering louder than ever, he went in. A little bell tinkled overhead, and Jody Bravo, behind the counter across the room, glanced his way.
Even with the counter masking her body from the waist down, he could see she was pregnant. And pretty far along, too. That belly looked ready to pop.
He let his gaze track upward to her face. Did she pale at the sight of him? He couldn’t be sure. But she definitely looked wary, her soft mouth drawn tight, a certain watchfulness in her eyes.
“Sheriff,” she said coolly. “I’ll be right with you.” And she turned a friendly smile to the older man she was waiting on. “Roses and lilies.” She passed him a paper-wrapped cone full of flowers. “Excellent choice. I know she’ll love them...”
Seth hovered near the door, not sure what to do with himself. Another customer came in, and he moved to the side to clear the entrance. And then he just stood there, surrounded by greenery, breathing that moist, sweet smell created by so many flowers and growing things pressing in close.
“Seth?” asked the Bravo woman as the second customer went out the door.
He realized he was staring blankly at a hanging basket full of cascading purple flowers. “Right here,” he answered, though she was standing directly behind him and no doubt looking straight at him. He turned around and met those wary eyes. “We need to talk.”
Resigned. She looked resigned. His certainty increased that Monique had not lied; that giant belly cradled his brother’s child.
Nicky’s baby. He didn’t know what he felt. Joy, maybe. And something else, something angry and ready for a fight.
She said, “It’s time to close. I need to bring in the stock from out in front and deal with the register.”
“I’ll help.”
“No, it’s fine. I can—”
“I said, I’ll help.” It came out as a growl.
She stiffened, but then she answered calmly, “Well. All right, then. If you’ll bring in the flowers.” She gestured at a section of bare floor space not far from the door. “Just put them there for now.”
“For now?”
“I’ll take them to the cooler in back later.”
“As long as I’m bringing them in, I can take them where you want them to go.” He put out a hand toward the glass-doored refrigerato
r full of fancy arrangements that took up much of one wall. “You want them in there?”
She bit her lip like she was about to argue with him. But then she said, “No, there’s a walk-in cooler in back.” She pointed at the café doors near the check-out counter. “Through there.”
“All right, then. I’ll bring everything in.”
They got to it. She turned off the Open sign and closed out the register while he carried in the tubs of flowers, trekking them through the inner door to the other fridge. Once all the tubs were in, she locked the shop door. There was an ironwork gate between her shop and the one next door, but it was shut, the shop on the other side dark and quiet.
She must have seen him glance that way. “My half sister Elise owns Bravo Catering and Bakery through there. She closed at six.”
And so they were alone, with no chance of interruption.
He got to the point. “I heard a rumor that you’re having my brother’s baby.”
He didn’t know what he’d expected. Denial? Nervousness? An apology for holding out on him?
But all he got from her was the barest hint of a shrug, followed by a quietly spoken confirmation. “Yes. Nick was my baby’s father.”
The soft words struck him like blows. All at once, his ears were burning. His stomach clenched, and he really wished he hadn’t eaten so much steak.
Sucking in a long breath through his nose, he accused, “You were at the funeral.”
“Yes.”
“You stepped right up to me. You shook my hand. You had to know there was a baby then.”
“Yes, I did.”
“But you said nothing.” He gave her a look meant to make her knees shake and waited for her to explain herself. When she only regarded him steadily, he demanded, “What is the matter with you? Why am I the last to know? My brother has been dead for almost six months, and until Monique Hightower shared the news today, I had no idea there was a baby involved.”
That seemed to get through to her. Scowling now, she whipped up a hand, palm flat in his face. “Don’t you get on me, Sheriff. I thought you knew—and didn’t care.”
Didn’t care? That knocked him back. He took a moment to gather his composure. And then he said, deadly calm, “You thought wrong. Did Nick even know?”
Slowly, she lowered her hand to her side. Her diamond-shaped face was all eyes at that moment, eyes of a blue so deep they looked black. Those eyes stared right through him. “He knew.”
Seth couldn’t help but scoff when she said that. “Oh, no. Uh-uh.”
“Why even ask if you’re not willing to accept my answer?”
“I guess I had some crazy idea you might tell me the truth.”
“That is the truth.”
“How long did he know?”
“I told him a few days after I found out myself. That was about six weeks before he died.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Twin spots of color flamed high on her cheeks. “Keep calling me a liar, and I’m just going to have to ask you to leave.”
Was he out of line? Probably. A little. But she should have told him that his dead brother had fathered a child. And that she’d told Nicky? He couldn’t see it. “Nick was a stand-up guy. If he’d known there was a baby, he would have wanted to marry you. That was who he was, a simple man with a big heart and high standards, a man whose own natural father deserted him and his mother. Nick wouldn’t do that. If he knew about that baby, you’d have a ring on your finger—and there is no way that he would have...” His throat locked up. He swallowed hard to loosen it and then tried again. “If Nick knew he was going to be a father, he would’ve told me.”
Copyright © 2017 by Christine Rimmer
ISBN-13: 9781488014284
The Bronc Rider’s Baby
Copyright © 2017 by Judy Duarte
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