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Absentminded Angel [Divine Creek Ranch 20] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

Page 2

by Heather Rainier


  “He’s my good boy,” Presley Ann murmured, lifting his head a little higher as Leah moved the pillows to her other side. “Look,” she said as she flicked at the screen on her smartphone. “This is how flaky I am. I need an app to help me remember to nurse him on a schedule, otherwise I’ll forget and lose track of time.” Her cheeks warmed as she showed Leah the schedule, set up with alarms that went off every two hours.

  Leah grinned. “Sure, you’ll need help until you get your feet under you. This is actually kind of ingenious. I didn’t mean to upset you, sis. I think they’re just trying to show they care. It’s always nice to know someone cares, right?”

  “It is. I don’t want to hurt them…but I don’t want to be hurt either.”

  “Here, drink your smoothie and please don’t worry about it. You can talk to them if they come by. They wouldn’t be callous about the stress you’re under, learning to take care of the peanut. Have you decided on a name yet?”

  Presley Ann grinned as she ran her fingertip over the baby’s cheek, and he gave a little shudder and squeezed her breast in his tiny grip. “I thought of one. You tell me if I’m off base. I don’t want him getting beat up at school because his mama didn’t name him right.”

  “What is it?” Leah asked as she gazed at the baby and stroked his hair, too.

  “Whitman Merritt Woodworth.”

  A smile spread across her sister’s face. “Our grannies’ maiden names. Whitman Merritt Woodworth. It has a nice ring to it. All his buddies can call him Whit.”

  “I thought so, too.”

  “Well, I need to get to work. Is there anything I can bring you on my lunch break? Or if you need it sooner, I could have one of the guys swing by.”

  Presley Ann smiled and shook her head. “I’m fine for now. We’re just taking some time and getting used to each other. If he falls asleep later I’ll nap with him.”

  “Got all the pillows and blankets you need? I know you get cold sensitive.”

  “I’ll be okay. Don’t be late because of me. Make sure and show Evelyn the pictures and tell her what we named him.”

  After Leah left, Presley Ann found herself just gazing at her son. “Whit. I hope you like it, honey.”

  Her dad called from out of town and told her he’d be home by that evening. He sounded like he was about to bust with happiness and asked her to send him pictures on his phone.

  Tracey offered to take Whit when she came in to check on them and saw him dozing, but Presley Ann shook her head and held him closer. In the quiet of the room, she gazed at her beautiful son.

  The dark blue eyes of a raven-haired cowboy hovered in her memory. She’d met him at O’Reilley’s while waiting for tables to become available. Her dad was supposed to join her, but he’d called and cancelled on her because he had to work late. Not a big surprise coming from her dad, and she’d decided to stay and eat on her own anyway, since it beat cooking at home alone. Their eyes met across the lobby and the spark between them had been so powerful, so perfect. He’d greeted her, and once he found out she was on her own he’d invited her to be his guest at his table for the evening. There was no way perfection like that could last, so she’d refused to give him her name and cut him off gently when he tried to introduce himself. He’d smiled and played along.

  “Why did I do that? It was so stupid.” Not only because she was pregnant, either. He’d been different toward her. She had been used to men taking what they wanted, and she was mostly okay with that as long as she got what she needed first.

  His hair had been cut short but would be curly if he let it grow longer. His black eyebrows had arched any time he laughed, and his neatly trimmed beard had given him a rakish look that reminded her of a pirate. His chest had been broad, covered with a dusting of black hair that had peeked out over the top button of his shirt during that one evening they’d had, until he’d finally taken it off, along with everything else.

  His lips were perfect, full and sensual as he’d smiled, and so warm as he’d kissed her all over. His hands had mesmerized her as he’d stroked her flesh, his fingers long and gentle, rough at the very tips.

  The night hadn’t ended with dinner, or with their evening spent at the Dancing Pony. Perhaps knowing it would end had made the flame burn brighter and stronger, at least in her memory. He’d invited her back to his hotel and made love to her with skilled abandon, bringing her to orgasm so many times she’d lost count. And when he’d held her afterward, she hadn’t felt used or disappointed. She’d felt a connection with him.

  It’d been on the tip of her tongue to tell him her name so that perhaps they might somehow meet again, but by then he’d drifted off to sleep, still holding her close. She’d fallen asleep debating about telling him the next morning.

  But when she woke, it was to find his note on the pillow next to her, telling her that he’d had a wonderful night and he hoped like crazy that someday his life would bring him back through Divine again. And that maybe then she’d tell him her name.

  Crestfallen, she’d showered, dressed, and gone home. The memory of his winsome smile and sparkling eyes created a fresh rush of tears. She wasn’t always the best judge of character, but she knew in her heart that he would want to know about his baby.

  An uncomfortable wave of shame wrenched her heart. She scoffed and whispered, “Two ships passing in the night. What an idiotic plan.”

  * * * *

  Presley Ann had no idea how long she’d been asleep when a noise awakened her and she opened her eyes to find three people, including her Aunt Dorothy, standing at her bedside. She gasped and sat up so quickly she jostled Whit and he began fussing.

  Her aunt had a smile pasted on her lips, but the rest of her face looked as if she smelled something stinky as Presley Ann patted Whit’s back and soothed him. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

  “Sorry,” her aunt said ingratiatingly. “I forgot to call. We came as soon as visiting hours allowed.”

  Presley Ann frowned as she looked at the middle-aged couple standing beside her aunt. The tall man had salt-and-pepper hair, and he stared at Whit as if he was evaluating him. He wasn’t dressed like a doctor, though. The woman, who had dark, close-set eyes and thinning hair smiled at the baby as if he was all she could see, sending a cold chill down Presley Ann’s spine.

  “Aunt Dorothy, who are these people?”

  Dorothy sat down on the edge of the bed, forcing Presley Ann to move her leg or have it squashed. The expression on her aunt’s face was a familiar one as she framed her reply. Her father’s sister was a master manipulator, and Presley Ann braced herself, wondering what she was up to.

  “Dear,” she started out, pinching the fabric of the blanket draped over Presley Ann’s calf before smoothing it out as though she was unconsciously smoothing the way to get what she wanted. “I know how you must long to get back into the swing of things, back into your life.” She waved her hands around her head as if in a daze. “Back into your social whirl. I’ve been trying to broach the subject but…just haven’t known how and now…here we are,” she said with a little laugh as though she was a little embarrassed as she settled her gaze on Whit.

  “Here we are…where? Up until now you’ve given no indication you took any interest in my pregnancy.” Presley Ann darted another glance at the couple. “And you still haven’t answered my question. Who are these people?”

  Aunt Dorothy lifted the birth certificate form from the tray table where Presley Ann had placed it earlier, and then put it back down and scooted it several inches away from her. “Dear, I’ve known you since your birth. You’re a simply lovely girl, so full of potential, but I fear this child may be the end of all that. I see hardship ahead for you. Sacrifice.”

  “No doubt. But I fail to see what that has to do with you being here with two strangers.”

  A conversation she’d had the previous day with her cousin, Wilhelmina, Dorothy’s daughter, came to mind. She was cut from the same cloth as her mother. She’d told Presl

ey Ann to not expect a baby shower, since her baby was born on the “wrong side of a wedding ring” and had mentioned that she knew of a couple who were looking to adopt a baby. A cold shiver swept up her spine and she bundled her baby close to her as Whit started to root.

  Dorothy said, “Let me be blunt, then, dear. Your tendency toward forgetfulness and self-centeredness is known far and wide in our family. What was it your father called you when you were little?”

  Presley Ann held back a growl. “I’ve forgotten.” Little dingbat.

  “Ah, my point exactly.” Her aunt’s face broke into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she darted a glance at the couple. “Rather conveniently, for your sake, Jules and his wife Marvelle, here, wish to adopt a baby. They’d be willing to pay all your expenses and take it off of your hands. They’re not from around here. You’d never see them—or it—ever again. No muss. No fuss.”

  Whit’s fussing grew worse and Presley Ann’s hands trembled as she grabbed a receiving blanket, praying to God that she didn’t fumble in front of these imbeciles. She draped her shoulder, tugged at her snaps, and put Whit to her breast to ease him. The unusual sensation from earlier shimmered through her so powerfully she flushed.

  She felt a small amount of satisfaction when Dorothy fanned herself and said, “Oh, dear, oh my goodness. So earthy. I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Perhaps a nurse could bring you a bottle while we talk.” She continued to chatter but Presley Ann focused her attention on Whit. Her aunt’s blathering had a way of making her glaze over.

  Presley Ann glanced at the couple and caught Jules staring at her as if he hoped to see her breast through the receiving blanket, which she’d trapped securely behind her shoulder. Pervert.

  Dorothy caught her breath and said, “Anyway. You could go back to your life. Get busy and lose all of that copious baby weight you’ve gained, and Jules and Marvelle can take that burden completely off your hands.”

  She ignored the dig about her weight as another emotion superseded any hurt feelings. Presley Ann had heard about mama bears before. She believed in that animal instinct because it was roaring to life inside her right there in her hospital room. She held up a finger and stopped her aunt in mid-syllable.

  Looking up at the couple, who were both frowning now, Presley Ann said, “Get out before I ask the nurse to call the police.”

  Dorothy halted the couple when they took a step back. “Now wait just a minute, missy—”

  Presley Ann cut her off. “This is my son, Whitman Merritt Woodworth. He is not an it, or a burden. I love him and he is mine. I’m not giving him up to your friends or anybody else. Aunt Dorothy, you and I are done.” She glared at the couple and had to quell the urge to climb from the bed and chase them from the room. “You are still standing there.” The couple backed up another step and glanced nervously at Dorothy.

  Dorothy faked another smile. “A mother’s instincts can be very strong. I was much the same way with my Wilhelmina. But let’s wait and see how you feel when you haven’t slept for three days. You’ll find out how expensive formula is when the newness of this…practice”—she waved her hand at Presley Ann suckling her son—“has worn off and you’re tired of having him at the tit night and day. I’ll never understand why a lovely woman would want to do that to herself…like a milk cow or something. Unsanitary.”

  Presley Ann was reaching for the call button, when a deep, masculine voice from the doorway said, “Actually, ma’am, nursing is the healthiest thing she can do for either of them, and it’s more sanitary than using a bottle. I think Miss Woodworth has made it clear that you’ve worn out your welcome.” Jared and Kendry McCulloch stood in the doorway with fire in their eyes.

  “And who might you be?” Aunt Dorothy asked as she looked down her bulbous nose at them.

  “We’re friends of Miss Woodworth’s.”

  An ugly gleam shone in her aunt’s eyes, and she smiled and nodded as if proving her point. “Ah, I see. Both of you, eh?” She pointed at Whit under the blanket and smirked. “That baby is neither brown-haired nor blond so I’ll hazard a guess neither of you is the father.” Turning to Presley Ann she said, “I see this as a win-win situation, dear. My acquaintances get their heart’s fondest desire and you”—she waved a negligent hand behind her at the men—“get to have yours.”

  Jared and Kendry’s eyes were trained on Presley Ann, but she could see the anger glowing in those blue gazes as Dorothy kept speaking.

  “Don’t you understand, dear?” Dorothy said, as if speaking to a simpleton. “If it’s them you want—both of them—just give up the baby and go your merry way. And I speak from experience that even if you do everything right, he’ll still disappoint you. That’s just how it is for mothers. Why burden yourself and your poor, dear overworked father with an out-of-wedlock grandchild? He’s on the school board, the business man’s association man of the year for three years running, and a fine upstanding member of this conservative community. The shame. Why do that to him?”

  “She really pulls out all the stops, doesn’t she?” Kendry asked in a rough voice unlike the teasing tone she was used to.

  Jared took a step forward, his hands balled up into fists. “Lady, she can have us any way she wants us, and that invitation includes her baby. Looks to me like you’re leaving here disappointed.”

  Persistent as ever, Dorothy curled her lip and waved her hand as if shooing a pesky fly. “Well of course they could always swoop in and save you, and then you’d have all the built in help you need. Just like your daddy swooping in to save you, only with a few added benefits.”

  “Wait,” the man, Jules, said. “You’re both wanting this gal? What in Sam Hill is goin’ on in this town?”

  Presley Ann held up the remote call button for the nurse. “You’ve got two seconds before I ask the nurse’s station to call the sheriff and my brothers-in-law, who are city cops. I asked you to leave nicely. They asked you to leave nicely. I’m done being nice. Get out!”

  “Well!” Marvelle gasped as she clutched her handbag to her and grabbed her husband’s arm nervously. “I never.”

  “I can understand why,” Presley Ann said as she looked from one individual to the other. “But that’s not my concern. This baby is mine and you can’t have him.”

  Tracey burst in through the doorway. “What’s going on in here? This is a new mother and infant. Honey, are you okay?” she asked, rushing over to stand next to Presley Ann. “I heard what you said. If someone’s taking a baby, they’ll have to come through me.” She glared at the entire group, looking ready to growl herself and said, “You need me to clear the room, honey? I will clear this damn room.”

  Presley Ann wanted to hug Tracey for her kickass loyalty. “No, just these three,” she said, pointing at Jules, Marvelle, and her aunt. “And Aunt Dorothy, taking your advice over the years has brought me nothing but heartache and disappointment. Go now, before I call James and Vincent myself. I can’t believe you thought I would just hand my baby over to strangers.”

  Tracey said, “Sheriff Hank is down the hall. I can get him right now.”

  Marvelle and Jules lit out of the room so fast they practically left a vapor trail.

  Tracey eyed Dorothy. “There are laws protecting new mothers from situations like this. You don’t just walk in with prospective adoptive parents and expect to walk out with a baby—at least not here you don’t. Mrs. Perkins, are you branching out from running a temporary employment agency to baby brokering? You’d better skedaddle before I call Hank. He’d love to hear all about your plan, I’m sure.”

  Dorothy stood from her seat on the bed and cast an angry, bushy eyebrowed look at all of them. She hmphed at Presley Ann and said, “We’ll see how devoted a mother you are when you’re forced to spend money on that baby you’d rather spend on designer fashions for yourself. Good day!”

  With her nose up in the air, she sailed out of the room, practically knocking Kendry and Jared out of the way with her girth.

 
Tracey snarled at her back and mimicked her. “Good day!” After Jared and Kendry closed the door, Tracey turned concerned eyes on her. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry they upset you.” In a whisper, she added, “Who are the hotties? Can I have one? I won’t break him, I promise.”

  Presley Ann laughed so hard she nearly choked and Whit unlatched and started hollering.

  “I’ll leave you be, honey. Hit that button if those people come back,” Tracey said with a wink and then gave Jared and Kendry big smiles. “Don’t you two tire her out now, you hear?”

  Kendry’s eyes twinkled and he drawled, “Yes, ma’am.” After Tracey exited the room, he turned back to Presley Ann. “Looks like our kitten has claws. You okay?” All trace of humor left his eyes as he and Jared came close. She self-consciously lifted Whit to her shoulder while trying to maintain her modesty with the receiving blanket.

  Reaching for the snaps on her hospital gown, she heaved a sigh of relief as they lined up and she pressed them into place. “They snuck in on me while I was napping with Whit.”

  A smile broke out on Jared’s face. “Whit?”

  Presley Ann nodded, all doubt about her son’s name gone, and said, “Yes. I’d like you to meet Whitman Merritt Woodworth, also known as Whit.”

  The baby punctuated his introduction with a burp, and she felt a little more accomplished when she didn’t feel his meal running down the back of her shoulder. She repositioned the baby in her arms so they could see him, and the men’s eyes widened and they shared a glance.

  “What?” she asked as she stroked Whit’s cheek. “You think he’ll get beat up on the playground with a name like Whit?”

  Kendry shook his head. “Nah, we’ll teach him self-defense tactics so he can take up for himself. He’ll never have to worry about being called Ken-Dry or Ken-Doll.”

  “Or Jar-Head,” Jared said with a chuckle.

  “Or Elvis Presley Ann,” she said with a giggle. “Kids will always find reasons to be jerks, huh?”

 
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