Summer's Moon

by Lacey Baker

“Just wait a minute,” Michelle said, extending her arms and standing between both men. “I want to know what’s going on here.”

  “What’s going on is I’m about to sue this establishment for allowing its guests to behave in such a reprehensible manner. I was minding my own business when this guy came out of nowhere and hit me,” Jared argued.

  “He had his hands on Drew and she asked him to remove them. I told him to remove them and he didn’t listen. Case closed,” Parker said, flexing his fingers at his side and then going to Drew.

  Without a word, he moved Raine out of the way and touched Drew’s shoulders. “Are you okay?”

  Still shocked from seeing Jared and having him touch her again, Drew was trying to regain her composure. She’d been watching what was going on, at the same time feeling like an outsider looking in on a really bad television drama episode. Years ago, she’d been the star of that same show. Now, with her hands still shaking, she wanted to run, to go as far as she could again, because obviously the first time she hadn’t gone far enough.

  “Yes,” she finally whispered to Parker. “I have to go.”

  But he merely tightened his grip, which made her heart beat wilder. She knew he wasn’t Jared, knew quite easily the differences between these two men. Still, his hands on her right now wasn’t a good thing. “Please,” she said, closing her eyes. “Please let me go, Parker.”

  He looked hesitant, then he looked angry, but Parker removed his hands from her shoulders. Drew took a step back and turned. Then she was moving fast. She was out the door in no time, the warm air brushing over her face. Her legs moved, her body followed, but she didn’t speak. And best of all, she didn’t cry, not this time.

  * * *

  “So where’s your brother?” Deputy Farraway asked Michelle about fifteen minutes later when he’d sauntered into The Silver Spoon.

  Michelle was not in the mood for Carl’s foolishness. When Jared Mansfield had yelled at Natalie one time too many, the already jittery woman had picked up the phone and called the sheriff’s office before Michelle could convince him that there was no need. Besides, the red bruise on the man’s jaw was a dead giveaway that something had happened.

  In no time at all, things at The Silver Spoon had spun out of control. One minute she’d been talking to her family about a new guest, and the next said new guest was chasing after Drew and getting punched by Parker. Now the police were here and both Parker and Drew had stormed out of the house.

  “I don’t know where he is, Carl,” she said, not bothering to mask her irritation that he was in her house at all.

  Carl had been present at the Brockington house when Nikki was being questioned by the Easton police a few months back. He’d behaved himself well enough, as it had been Deputy Jonah Lincoln who had been nursing a longtime crush on Nikki, only to be thwarted by Quinn’s quick courtship of her. But when Heaven had been kidnapped, Carl had shown his true colors and behaved obnoxiously to Heaven’s parents—who rightfully deserved it—then to Preston, Quinn, and Parker (mostly Parker), about the way they’d all ultimately handled the situation. If memory served her right, which for Michelle it always did, Parker and Carl had exchanged pretty heated words a few days after Heaven’s rescue, and it had taken Quinn and Preston to hold Parker back from slugging the man then. Jonah had also been there, but he hadn’t acted as fast as Quinn and Preston to stop the possible physical altercation. Michelle figured that after being Carl’s partner for more than five years, Jonah might feel the man deserved to get hit.

  “Do I need to search the house?” Carl pressed.

  “Do you have a search warrant?” asked Savannah, who had appeared just as Parker had walked out. She stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring at Carl.

  “He left after Drew did. I think you should go out and look for him. He’s mighty dangerous and I’m afraid of what he might do to her,” Jared said in a tone that even Michelle recognized as fake.

  Now, true, about half an hour ago she had swiped this man’s credit card and smiled brightly as she’d welcomed him to The Silver Spoon; but at this moment she was ready to get all of his many suitcases and bags and toss them—with their owner—out onto the sidewalk.

  “Parker’s not going to hurt Drew,” Mr. Sylvester said. “That’s just plain nonsense. Now, you, on the other hand, I don’t know about you, son.”

  Jared scowled in Mr. Sylvester’s direction. “I’m not your son, old man. And you can just mind your business. I’m filing a report for assault and I want this officer to go out and find Drew and bring her back here to me ASAP.”

  “A report? Really, is that necessary, sir?” Raine asked. “After all, you were physically assaulting Drew. Parker was just defending her and he did ask you nicely to take your hands off of her.”

  Raine was always the peacemaker. She hadn’t even raised her voice as she tried to reason with this jerk, who was not only threatening her brother, but ordering their deputy to do something. Michelle wasn’t going to be as diplomatic.

  “Mr. Mansfield, I think it’s time for you to leave The Silver Spoon,” she said sternly. “And Carl, you can follow him out.”

  “I’m here to make an arrest,” Carl said with more pleasure than Michelle cared to hear in his voice.

  “Then arrest this idiot and get it over with,” Savannah told Carl, moving so that she now stood directly in front of him.

  Carl was a man. He was a man who loved women. And all men, especially the ones who had grown up in Sweetland and witnessed the blossoming of Savannah Cantrell, girl to woman, loved Savannah. Today she wore a lavender dress that wrapped around her body in gentle yet alluring folds. Her heels were at least four inches high—Michelle was sure she’d hadn’t seen Savannah in flat shoes since she’d turned thirteen—and her hair was pulled back from her face, cascading down her back like a glorious dark mane.

  Carl just about drooled when Savannah was right up on him. She didn’t touch him because she didn’t like him, probably liked him even less now that he was threatening her brother. But Carl was too besotted to figure that out.

  “He’s not welcome here, Carl. And if you’re not careful, you won’t be either,” she said in a tone just a touch softer than before.

  “That’s bull!” Jared yelled again.

  The man obviously had no problems raising his voice at women and law enforcement. Michelle had thought he had a privileged air to him when he’d checked in, but she’d chalked that up to his being a ballplayer. In her mind she’d also dismissed any privilege he thought he might receive at The Silver Spoon. That wasn’t the type of establishment they ran. He would get the same treatment as the couple in the Blue Room that had come up from South Carolina with their two adorable daughters.

  “I’ve paid my money to stay here and I’m not leaving,” he continued.

  “I can fix that for you right now,” Michelle said. She moved around the front desk and quickly ran her fingers over the keyboard. “I’m refunding your money. I suggest you get started removing your bags and call yourself a cab.”

  “You can’t do that!” he yelled back at her.

  “She can and she is, sir,” Quinn said as he walked into the room. “And I’ll warn you against raising your voice at my sister again.”

  Michelle had no doubt Natalie had also buzzed back to Nikki’s office when all the commotion had kicked off. Nikki would not have hesitated to call her fiancé, who was now standing in the doorway looking and sounding as foreboding as he actually was. As the oldest of the Cantrell siblings, Quinn took his role very seriously. He felt responsible for all his siblings as well as for the success of the B&B. Right now, he was most likely feeling protective of both.

  “Fine! I’m sure there’s someplace better in this hick-assed town that I can stay!” Jared said. He was about to walk away when he stopped in front of Carl. “I want him arrested and her brought to me.”

  Carl at least had the guts to push away the finger that Jared had been jabbing into his chest. Glaring at t
he man, he said, “Assault, of any kind, on an officer is a crime. I’ll investigate the incident between you and Parker Cantrell. But as far as Drew goes, I don’t want to hear of you bothering her again. We understand each other?” The last was said as Carl’s hand moved down to his sidearm and rested on his hip.

  Jared followed Carl’s movement with a frown and stepped back. “I’ll find her myself,” he said before walking away.

  “What was that all about? Who was that guy and why is he looking for Drew?” Quinn asked.

  “I don’t know who he is, but Drew definitely knows him. She took off running the moment she saw him. That’s when he chased her and that’s when Parker intervened,” Raine told him.

  “Sounds like self-defense to me,” Quinn said, eyeing Carl.

  “It’s self-defense if he assaulted Drew and she was the one to clock him. But if Parker hit him, it’s assault and I’m going to bring him in.”

  Carl made that announcement with a smirk before turning to leave. “I’ll wait for Mr. Mansfield to leave the premises, then I’m going to go find your brother.”

  He was gone when Quinn cursed.

  “What the hell was Parker thinking hitting this guy?” he complained.

  “He was probably thinking that some stranger had his hands on the woman he loves, and usually, for a Cantrell man, that’s just not acceptable,” Savannah said with a smile.

  Quinn didn’t smile, but Michelle suspected he knew Savannah’s assessment was right.

  Chapter 13

  “How’ve you been feeling, Drew?” Dr. Amelia Lorens asked as she gently pushed around Drew’s abdomen.

  Drew was lying on the exam table, staring up at the ceiling light as if it were the light welcoming her to eternity. She was biting on her lower lip, trying desperately to keep her breathing steady, her mind focused on the exam instead of the events that had occurred just before it.

  “I’ve been a little tired,” she said, letting out a deep breath.

  “Really? Are you eating enough?” she asked.

  “I guess. I mean, I’m eating three meals a day now. Before, I’d work straight through lunch, but once the morning sickness kicked in I figured out it was best if I didn’t go hungry for too long.”

  “Right,” Dr. Lorens commented. She moved away from Drew, glancing at her chart once more.

  Drew noted the woman seemed more than competent. The many degrees and commendations hanging on the wall in her office supported that fact. She looked to be in her early thirties, with a pretty smile and a calm demeanor. Her hair was short and curly, her eyes light brown and compassionate, and her hands soft; she was a far cry from Dr. Stallings, whom Drew had seen last year for a strep throat.

  “What about exercise?” she asked just as there was a knock on the door.

  Dr. Lorens looked surprised, then shrugged. “Excuse me.”

  Drew went back to looking at the ceiling. She could hear whispering but wasn’t paying it much attention. Until Dr. Lorens spoke to her.

  “Drew, there’s someone here who says he’d like to come in. Is that okay with you?”

  She turned her head and wasn’t half as surprised as she should have been to see Parker standing in the doorway. As she’d walked toward the doctor’s office, she’d thought a navy-blue SUV had been driving pretty slowly behind her. But a few times she’d turned back and hadn’t seen the SUV at all. Seeing Parker now connected the dots. Preston had a navy-blue SUV.

  He looked at her imploringly and she nodded her agreement. After all, hadn’t she gone to The Silver Spoon to ask if he wanted to join her for this appointment?

  Now a new anxiety assailed Drew, and she clenched her fingers in the top of her shirt, which Dr. Lorens had pushed up above her slightly protruding belly.

  “Okay, then let’s finish up the exam,” Dr. Lorens continued cheerfully, leading Parker inside and closing the door behind him. “We were just about to listen for the little one’s heartbeat.”

  “Oh,” Drew mumbled. “We weren’t able to hear it the last time because you said it was still too early.”

  Parker had come to stand right beside her. He didn’t touch her, as she almost thought he would. There was a war going on inside her where part of her prayed he would touch her and another part feared the result of that same action. Her heart was racing, and she hoped they could hear the baby’s over her own.

  “Let’s see,” Dr. Lorens said, referring to her chart. “You’re at eighteen weeks and three days’ gestation today. We should be able to hear the heartbeat loud and clear.”

  Dr. Lorens reached for a tube off the shelf, then moved back to the table where Drew lay. She applied the cool gel to Drew’s stomach, then frowned down at Drew. “A little chilly.”

  Drew nodded and replied, “A lot chilly.”

  “Is it painful?” Parker asked.

  “No,” she answered. “I guess I’m just a little nervous.” That was a lie. She was a lot nervous. In a few seconds she would hear her baby’s heartbeat for the first time. Parker was standing right beside her—looking, of all things, interested. And Jared Mansfield was in Sweetland. Nervous didn’t accurately describe what she was feeling.

  Parker frowned. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

  She looked up at him then, and the frown shifted to an awkward smile before he returned his focus to her stomach.

  Dr. Lorens touched a smooth probe to the lubricated area of Drew’s stomach, then moved it along slowly. In her other hand, she held what looked like a speaker that was attached to the probe by a spiraled cord. The first sounds were loud, like wind blowing over a telephone connection. Seconds later, it was joined by another sound, a quick rhythm that sounded too fast to be a baby’s heartbeat. Drew looked at the doctor, ready to voice her concerns.

  Dr. Lorens nodded, a smile spreading quickly. “That’s your baby, breathing very strong and steady.”

  Drew gasped, her fingers clenching in her shirt even tighter. This time Parker did touch her, his hand going to her shoulder.

  “That’s our baby’s heart beating?” he asked, his voice sounding as bewildered as she felt.

  Dr. Lorens nodded. “It sure is.”

  For the next few seconds nobody in the room spoke, they simply listened. Tears welled in Drew’s eyes, and Parker moved so that his other hand touched her stomach just above the lubricated area.

  “Our baby’s in there, breathing strong and steady,” he whispered.

  “That’s right,” Dr. Lorens told him as she removed the probe and reached for a tissue to wipe the lubricant from Drew’s stomach.

  “I’ll see you again in four weeks, Drew. But feel free to call me with any questions or concerns in the meantime.”

  Drew was still grappling with the sound of her baby’s heartbeat and her baby’s father’s hand on her stomach. Emotions swirled inside her like a brewing storm. She felt like crying, then she felt like running again. Fear and elation didn’t mix well.

  “About the fatigue,” Dr. Lorens continued. “I want you to break up your meals into six smaller ones instead of three. Make sure you’re staying hydrated, especially since it seems we’re not out of summer’s clutches just yet. Exercise is good, but don’t overdo it. And be sure you’re getting enough rest, not too much. The fatigue should subside, but if it doesn’t in a couple of weeks, give me a call and we’ll see if something else is going on.”

  “Okay,” Drew said.

  “You’re fatigued?” Parker asked, looking up at her once more.

  Drew finally released her grasp on her shirt, pushing the now wrinkled material down to cover her stomach. Parker moved his hand but stayed beside her. When she attempted to sit up, he hurried to help her, and when she slid off the table, he kept her standing right in front of him.

  “What’s going on?” he continued when she hadn’t answered his first question. “Can I help?”

  She absolutely loved the way his eyes softened when he looked at her. She’d noticed it that night they’d kissed and the last t
ime they’d slept together. Her heart did something funny in her chest when he looked at her that way, a sort of jump start and then skid to a stop, as if it couldn’t possibly be true.

  “I’ve just been really tired. Remember I said I was ready for bed by eight every night,” she told him.

  “And that’s not a bad thing,” Dr. Lorens chimed in. She’d been moving around the exam room, replacing the Doppler she’d used and scribbling notes in Drew’s file. “I’m sure you’re up pretty early before opening the shop. A solid eight hours’ sleep is good for everyone. For a pregnant woman a nap at some point during the day might be helpful. Do you have someone who can help you out at the flower shop?”

  “I can handle the shop for now,” she protested. “But I was thinking of looking for an assistant as the pregnancy proceeded.”

  “We’ll hire someone soon, Dr. Lorens. And she’ll get the rest she needs,” Parker said adamantly.

  Drew looked up at him to protest, then decided it was probably best not to argue in front of Dr. Lorens. The last thing she wanted was word getting out that she and Parker had argued in the doctor’s office—even though she was almost positive Dr. Lorens wouldn’t be spreading rumors around Sweetland, especially not about her patients. She’d come highly recommended by Quinn, which to Drew meant she was a damned good doctor practicing with the same morals and discretion as the uncle of her child.

  But when Parker ushered her out of the room and into the waiting area of the medical center, which from the outside looked like a beautifully restored folk-style Victorian house on the corner of Elm Road, her thoughts about morals and discretion came to a screeching halt.

  “Fancy meeting you two here,” Marabelle Stanley said, hurriedly getting out of her seat and coming to stand in front of them.

  Parker had his hand on Drew’s elbow, and she’d been adjusting her purse on her shoulder. Dr. Lorens’s office and exam rooms were adjacent to Quinn’s. They both shared the same waiting room, the one where Marabelle had been sitting with her husband, who had already pulled the magazine up to cover his face. It was a shame the man hated to be seen with his wife, but considering who his wife was and her reputation around town, Drew couldn’t really blame him.