He didn’t say anything. He was just staring at the sketchbook in his hands. Even though her heart was breaking, she was happy she’d saved it for him.
“You’ve already found your perfect job,” she said. “Maybe Ocala is the complete package. Taylor might not be a temporary fling. She likes you, Zane. Maybe someday all of Hidden Rock will be yours.”
He glowered at her. “That’s insulting. You’re making me sound like a gold digger. Or like I’m not capable of making my own way.”
He wasn’t just surly. He was furious. But she was certain most of it stemmed from hurt pride.
“You’re so smart and so very capable. If I made it sound like I thought otherwise, I’m sorry. If you weren’t capable, a man like Rhett Sullivan wouldn’t be willing to trust you with his empire. Now, you need to do the smart thing and take that job. Don’t miss the boat.”
Chapter Ten
Zane had been gone for a week, but it felt like a lifetime. Even though Lucy was swamped, consumed with prep for the Picnic in the Park celebration on the Fourth of July, it was all she could do to keep her mind on her to-do list.
Blake Shelton’s song “Go Ahead and Break My Heart” came up on her Zane playlist. She’d compiled a bunch of songs that either reminded her of Zane or the lyrics pertained to their situation. She’d grouped them together on a playlist, which she streamed through the music app on her phone. Depending on her mood, she could either feel self-righteous, singing along to songs such as Nancy Sinatra’s “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’,” or wallow in her own self-pity to tunes like “Desperado” by the Eagles.
Her favorite songs were a variety of singers and standards, with some fun ’60s and ’80s era music added for spice, but Zane loved country music and she’d added some country tunes that tugged at her heartstrings.
“Go Ahead and Break My Heart” was making her want to wallow, so she shuffled the mix and advanced to the next song. A Brett Eldredge song about going away for a while came up next. At least it was upbeat and not as sentimental as some on the list. She let it play.
When she got home tonight, maybe she should separate the songs into sub-playlists—self-righteous, empowering songs, and songs to wallow in self-pity and feel sorry for herself.
At least she wouldn’t get emotional whiplash each time a new tune played.
She was just settling down and reviewing proposals for her business’s website redesign when her phone rang.
“Campbell Wedding Barn, Lucy speaking.”
“Is this Lucy Campbell?” a man asked.
“Yes, this is she. How may I help you?”
She really should consider hiring someone part-time to help with odds and ends and answering the phone. Every time it rang and she answered, she was pulled out of what she was doing and usually ended up going down some kind of rabbit hole that kept her from getting her work done. That was why her to-do list was so long.
“This is Nathaniel Phillips. I am Zane Phillips’s dad. I’m hoping you can help me track down my son.”
Lucy set down her pen. Oh, boy, she did not want to get in the middle of this. Zane had told her that his father had shown up at Dorothy’s house the night he was moving out the last of her belongings. That was after Nathaniel had made an unwelcome appearance at Dorothy’s funeral.
Now he was calling and asking her to put him in touch with Zane?
No way.
“Hi, Mr. Phillips. I’d be happy to take your number and pass it along to Zane the next time I talk to him.”
The truth was, she and Zane hadn’t spoken since he’d left for Ocala. She kept telling herself it was better that way. Clean break. That was why she hated the way her heart leaped at the thought of having an excuse to call him—even if it was to relay the news that his father was looking for him.
“I have something for him,” Nathaniel said. “Are you sure you can’t give me any information on how I can get in touch with him myself?”
Lucy swiveled in her desk chair so that she was facing the door that looked out into the cavernous belly of the barn. It was not as if the man was standing there in person. So she didn’t need to run. But for some reason it made her feel better to focus on the way out.
“As I said, I’m happy to pass along your number to him. Would you like to give it to me?”
Reluctantly, Nathaniel rattled off some numbers. Lucy repeated them back to him.
“I’ll make sure he gets the message,” she said.
“Will you also tell him that I have something I know he wants. I’d like to give it to him.”
“Absolutely. I’ll let him know.”
She hung up the phone. Nathaniel had something for Zane? What in the world could it be?
Before she could talk herself out of it, she retrieved her cell phone from her purse and dialed Zane’s number. She knew it by heart. When it started ringing, her heart thudded like a staccato drumbeat.
This was crazy. They meant too much to each other to be in a standoff like this. Well, thanks to Nathaniel Phillips, she had a legitimate reason to break the ice. That was ironic.
But soon her optimism slipped a notch when she got Zane’s voice mail. He used to always pick up when she called. In fact, she couldn’t remember him ever not taking her call. In the span of time it took for his greeting to play out, she talked herself out of hanging up and decided to leave a message.
After all, she had promised his father she would let him know. She always tried to keep her promises. Plus, if she left a message, the ball would be in his court to call her back.
At the beep, she said, “Hey, you! It’s me.” That was how they used to greet each other on the phone when they called each other—back in the days when they called each other... When they were talking. She made an effort to infuse as much sunshine and sweetness in her voice as she could muster. “I hope everything is going well and that you’re all settled in and liking your job. We miss you around here. Mrs. Radley is looking for a new benefactor for her tuna-noodle surprise.” Okay, she needed to get to the point. It wasn’t as if the longer she talked, the more likely it would be that he would pick up. That was not how cell-phone voice messages worked. “Also, I needed to let you know that your dad called me today asking for your phone number. Don’t kill the messenger. I didn’t give him your number. I asked for his and told him I would pass it along. So here it is.”
She read the number twice. The second time, she said it slowly.
“Oh, and he asked me to tell you that he has something for you that he is certain you will want. So please call him. That’s part of his message, not me being bossy. Just so you know. And you might give me a call if you can spare a few moments. That is me being bossy. I miss you.”
She hung up before she could say anything else. She wished she could go back and erase that last part where she asked him to call her.
Ugh. That was embarrassing.
Oh, well. It was what it was. Now the ball was definitely in his court.
Peter Gabriel’s “In Your Eyes” came up in the shuffle. Lucy sighed and turned off the music because it wasn’t helping matters. It was only making her sad. Even though some of the music was designed to let her wallow, the overriding effect wasn’t supposed to be this.
She sat in silence for a few minutes, which was hardly better, but at least she didn’t have to listen to Peter Gabriel going on about days passing and emptiness filling his heart.
There was wallowing and there was morose.
She’d made her choice to not move to Ocala with Zane. She needed to live with it.
Lucy had just wrangled herself back into work mode when there was a knock at the barn door.
“Oh, for God’s sake. I am never going to get any work done.”
She clicked over to her to-do list and typed in “hire part-time assistant.”
The knock sounded again, and this time was more persistent. For a split second she worried that it might be Nathaniel Phillips. Then her heart went in a completely different direction—what if the reason Zane hadn’t taken her call was because he was driving on his way back to see her?
She knew it was just wishful thinking, but it didn’t stop the disappointment when she opened the door and saw Carol Vedder standing there with a handsome blond guy in tow.
“There you are, Lucy,” Carol said. “We were just about to leave. But I saw your car over there, so I knew you had to be around here somewhere.”
Lucy had to blink away the stunning disappointment. First because it wasn’t Zane at the door and second because she’d actually let herself hope that it was. She had gone from ridiculous to pathetic in less than sixty seconds. She needed to get ahold of herself.
“I am so sorry to keep you waiting,” she said. “I was in the middle of something. I didn’t realize you were coming by. Did I miss your call?”
She knew Carol hadn’t called, and she should’ve been ashamed of herself for the little dig, but...
“No, I didn’t call. I just picked up my nephew, Luke, from the airport. He lives in Houston, but he was flying in from a veterinarian conference in Los Angeles. Lucy, this is Luke Anderson. Luke, this is Lucy Campbell. The young woman I told you about.”
“Nice to meet you, Lucy.” He shook her hand. “Forgive us for barging in like this.”
Lucy picked up on the note of embarrassment in Luke’s apology and glimpsed the accompanying look in his eyes. He was humoring his aunt and was much too polite to roll his eyes the way Lucy sensed he wanted to.
“That is absolutely not a problem, Luke. It’s nice to meet you. Would you like to come in?”
“If you’re in the middle of something, I don’t want to disturb you—”
“We will only be a minute,” Carol said. “I brought Luke by to help me carry a heavy box. For the Fourth of July picnic.”
Lucy exchanged another commiserating look with Luke. He must’ve known that Carol’s moments could last three weeks. That was when she realized Luke was seriously cute—like Ryan-Gosling-eat-your-heart-out cute. And he was a veterinarian. That meant he was good with animals.
And he wasn’t Zane.
The father of her baby. The love of her life, who didn’t return her feelings. The guy who was gone.
If she wasn’t pregnant, she might’ve tried to be interested in this guy. He was from Houston. Far enough away that she could’ve had her space, but close enough to see occasionally—unlike the prohibitive fifteen-hour drive to Ocala.
But he wasn’t Zane.
“Where is the box, Aunt Carol?” Luke asked.
“It’s in the trunk, dear.” She handed him her keys.
Both women watched him walk to the car. “He’s a good catch, this one.” Carol gestured in Luke’s direction with her thumb.
He came back carrying a large package of paper towels. “This was the only thing that was in the trunk, besides my luggage.”
Carol smiled. “Yes, that’s it.”
Something heavy, huh? Lucy was tempted to ask if she should get the hand truck, but that wouldn’t be very nice. She knew Carol well enough to know she was immune to embarrassment. It would only make this awkward situation more awkward.
“I can take that,” Lucy said.
“No, let Luke carry that for you. How about if he sets it in the kitchen?”
Lucy shrugged and motioned for them to come inside. As they walked toward the kitchen, Carol said, “Luke is going to be here for Picnic in the Park. He is also going to help me with a few handyman tasks around the house, because he’s very handy. But I won’t keep him too busy. He will have plenty of free time. Lucy, maybe you could show him around?”
Her mind raced. On one hand being nice to someone and showing him around wouldn’t even necessarily have to be a date. But who was she kidding? It was obvious that Carol was trying to fix them up. What was she supposed to say? Sooner or later the entire town would know that she was expecting. It was her new reality and she had already accepted it. She’d also come to terms with the very real possibility that she probably wouldn’t be dating for at least the next eighteen years or so.
That was fine. Her baby was all she needed.
What was the use of dating if her heart belonged to her child...and the baby’s father?
* * *
Zane had picked up Lucy’s message, but several days had gone by and he couldn’t bring himself to call her back.
Not yet. The hurt was still too fresh. He got it. He totally understood Lucy’s point of view and he wasn’t going to be selfish. But that didn’t mean he had to like the way things had turned out.
As far as his dad was concerned, there wasn’t a chance in hell that he was calling him. He didn’t want whatever scrapbook or memento the guy had dug up for him. He didn’t need or want anything the jerk had to offer now—now that he and Ian were self-sufficient adults who needed nothing from others.
Nathaniel Phillips obviously thought that he was perfectly entitled to skip the messy parts of child rearing and jump into the hands-off easy part. Zane was having none of that.
He was too busy with his new job. He still hadn’t adjusted to Ocala, to being there alone when he thought Lucy would be by his side. That was such a bastard way to think, that she should give up everything she’d worked for to follow him. One of the things he’d always loved most about her was her strength. She deserved only the best and she deserved the love she was so certain existed.
Hidden Rock was a great job, but it still didn’t feel like his world. He knew he should give a new position a good six months—Hell, with an outfit like this, he’d be better off giving it more like a year.
He was drinking too much and working too hard, too many long hours. One night, when he’d gotten particularly shit-faced, he’d gone out with a bunch of the ranch hands and woken up the next morning with Lucy’s name tattooed on his biceps. He’d never gotten a tattoo before. He didn’t remember much about that night, but he did recall with dubious clarity telling the guy that Lucy was the love of his life. Uh... In his drunken stupor, he had used the L word. He had to laugh—even though it wasn’t funny—because he could hear Lucy saying bourbon was his truth serum. The only other memory of that night that was vaguely clear was of the guy telling him if things didn’t work out with her, he could always have the tattoo changed from Lucy to Lucky.
He was still contemplating whether he wanted to have it removed, though he’d heard that hurt like a son of a bitch. Because it would be more appropriate to have the word UnLucky tattooed on his arm to remind him of all he’d lost.
He was trying, but even though, in theory, Hidden Rock was supposed to be his dream job, he didn’t love it here like he thought he would.
If he’d had this opportunity five years ago, things might have been different, but it didn’t feel like it fit him now. This routine of getting up at dawn, working until sunset, drinking himself to sleep and then getting up and doing it all over again wasn’t the stuff dreams were made of. Even though he was well aware of the theory that new jobs took a good half a year to break in, it didn’t feel like the life he wanted to grow into. Not when another little life that had his blood—and hopefully Lucy’s good looks, brains and charming personality—would be growing and changing every day in Texas without him. His dream job pinched. It just wasn’t the same without Lucy. Instead of feeling fulfilled, he felt empty. And at the rate he was numbing himself, he’d end up working himself into an early grave. Of course, that was the only part of this equation that was under his control. He could stop drinking if he wanted to. Especially since his being healthy was key to him keeping his promise to be a good father to their child.
That was why when the boys asked him if he was going to join the
m at the bar after work on Thursday, he declined. It would do his liver some good to sit this one out. When he got back to the house, there was a man waiting for him on his front porch.
“Can I help you?” Zane asked. “This is a private residence. If you have business with Hidden Rock, the offices are about a mile up the way near the stables.”
The guy had an envelope in his hand. “Are you Zane Phillips?”
Zane looked around warily. “I am.”
“I have a certified letter for you. Please sign here.”
What the hell—
Zane didn’t owe anybody anything. He wasn’t in trouble. Lucy wouldn’t be sending him anything certified, would she? This wasn’t about him not returning her call, was it? Her message hadn’t sounded all that serious. If she needed anything, he definitely would’ve called her back.
“What’s this about?” Zane asked.
“I have no idea. I’m just the messenger.”
Since he had no reason to fear the envelope’s contents and curiosity was getting the best of him, he signed, and the guy handed him the letter.
Zane took off his boots and left them on the porch, then let himself into the house.
The return address indicated the letter was from a Dallas-based law office. Zane picked up a letter opener on the kitchen cabinet and opened it.
The letterhead said the correspondence was from the law firm of Dorsey and Rogers. The content said that they had been retained by Nathaniel Phillips, who had been trying to locate him to bestow a gift upon him.
“A gift?” Zane said out loud.
His first inclination was to crumple up the letter without even reading it, but it dawned on him that if his father had gone to the trouble to hire an attorney to track him down so that he could give him a gift, maybe if he simply accepted whatever token he was trying to give him to appease his guilt, Nathaniel would go away and leave him alone. This might be the only reason that having fifteen hundred miles between him and Texas was a good thing.
But the next paragraph in the letter had Zane pulling out a kitchen chair and sitting down at the table to reread the letter to make sure he was understanding it right. Was his father actually trying to give him and Ian the property on Old Wickham Road?
A Bride, a Barn, and a Baby Page 15
