“Two weeks earlier. So I’m sewing like crazy now because I’m going to be really busy come summer.”
Seth heard the conversation. His brain registered the words, but what he wanted to hear was what had happened to the father of these babies.
Why did people consider fathers an inconsequential part of their children’s lives these days? His pulse thrummed higher in his veins. The headache he thought he’d squelched hours ago started inching up his spine.
He moved to go back downstairs but stopped dead as Piper went straight to the point in typical style. “You’re doing this alone, Gianna? Oh, honey, that’s hard. I’m so glad your grandmother’s here. I helped raise those two.” She jutted her chin toward the porch, where Dorrie and Sonya were busy building a Lego castle with Aiden, Martin and Connor. “And I don’t know how I would have done it without their grandmother around.”
“Gram’s amazing.” Gianna made a face of chagrin. “Unfortunately my choices were limited. I’m a widow, so these guys have me and only me. And a whole lot of prayer.”
A widow.
Seth’s first reaction was remorse. How could he have thought the worst about her? Why would he jump to a conclusion like that?
But common sense made him rethink the situation. Timing made her explanation implausible. She didn’t fit the profile of a grieving widow. She’d been in town for a month and she was due in five months.
The impossibility of that equation grated on his nerves. Was she lying? Covering something up?
Or did she not care that her husband had died?
Impossible, he decided. No matter what else, Gianna held raw emotion in her expression, her sweet smile. But Seth was a cop first. When things didn’t add up, it was usually because someone fudged facts to fit the case.
“I’m so sorry.” Piper took one of Gianna’s hands in both of hers. “If there’s anything you need, or you just want to talk to someone going through the same thing, call me. I’m only minutes from the village, and our winters can be cold, long and lonely.”
“Thank you.”
“But don’t call us if you need help with the nursery,” Zach drawled. “Because we can’t seem to make up our minds on what room or what color. We decided not to find out if the baby was a boy or a girl, so we’re mulling a ridiculous number of paint chips in random shades of green and yellow.”
Piper made a face, but Gianna met Zach’s gaze. “I actually went across the street to see Seth about painting the second bedroom upstairs a soft yellow. But we were interrupted and never got around to discussing it.” She flicked a quick glance his way, as if unsure how to approach him about painting a bedroom because he’d been a first-class jerk.
She’d come to him, seeking help. Wanting advice. Maybe wanting a friend.
And what had he done?
He’d been cool and unreachable, then guilt-ridden because he knew his behavior was rude, and all because he assumed she’d given some guy the shaft.
A widow. With child. Trying to make it on her own. He’d need to do some up-front redemption with the Holy Spirit because he’d jumped to conclusions and treated her badly, all because of his baggage with Jasmine.
He moved back toward the sofa, knowing he needed to make amends. “Gianna, would you like some tea? Mom’s got that same stuff I’ve seen at your place.”
“I’d love it. Thank you.”
He read awkwardness in her gaze and realized she hadn’t come to his parents’ house prepared to explain her condition. The wave of sickness “outed” her, leaving little choice. But she’d handled the moment with a confidence that said she would do whatever proved necessary to make things right, and that was a mind-set Seth admired.
* * *
“And the truth shall set you free.”
Was John’s gospel correct? Would truth offer an exit from the cloak of secrecy she’d worn for months?
Gianna prayed that would be the case as she opted away from the smells of the Campbell-filled family room. She’d hated lying to her family, keeping them in the dark about the treatments to prepare her body for these babies, but she’d picked her battles carefully.
She’d chosen silence because it was a rarity in the sprawling family. Various factions had opinions about everything. Family discussions were most often done at the top of their lungs, followed by food.
She crossed the Campbells’ living room to study the array of family photos on the far wall. A host of Campbells smiled back at her, but her attention was drawn to three distinct siblings.
Clearly the Campbells hadn’t looked for clones of themselves when they put out applications for adoption. One girl, tall and thin, sported milk-chocolate skin and thick, curly hair, much like Gianna’s. The smaller woman, distinctly Asian, flashed an infectious smile at the camera in every pose, the kind of grin that invited laughter and repartee. And the single, dark-haired brother? Latino, tough, stern-faced and taciturn marked every picture but one. Someone had gotten a candid shot of him talking to his mother, and the look on his warm, smiling face said he loved Jenny Campbell with all his heart.
Other than that, the tough-guy gaze stayed firmly in place.
A small voice interrupted her perusal, and she turned. The twin with pink ribbons tiptoed up to her as the kick-off claimed most people’s attention. “I made a little castle for my prince and princess. Would you like to see it?”
The child’s peaceful gaze lightened Gianna’s heart. As cheers for the underdog erupted from the sunken family room, Gianna stretched out a hand. “I’d love to.”
She followed the child onto the heated front porch overlooking the lake. Darkness robed the grounds. From above the porch windows, streams of light spilled into the trees, but the lights could penetrate only so far. Beyond them lay snow and ice, inhospitable this time of year. She bent low and reached an arm around the girl’s shoulders. “I love this. It’s the perfect size for your little prince and princess.”
“I know.” The little girl whispered the words as if they were too special to say out loud. “This is Princess Stacey and Prince William. They’re probably going to get married someday when Prince William comes back from fighting the horrible dragon.” She held up a toy dragon designed to perch on a castle turret. “There’s an army of little guys to defend the castle, and Uncle Seth lets us play with all of them.”
She stressed the word all, but it was the other part of her phrase that made Gianna smile. “These are Uncle Seth’s toys?”
A throat cleared behind her.
She turned, amused at the thought of the big, burly policeman playing with miniature houses and villages. “It’s nice that you share your toys with others. Very kindergarten-friendly.”
“Yes. Well.” Seth sat down on the porch rocker and raised a brow to his soon-to-be niece. “Since Sonya ratted me out, I must confess—I am a Legoholic.”
Sonya—pink ribbon. Gianna noted that for future reference because she couldn’t discern a visible difference between the girls even though she’d tried every time they’d raced past her.
“He has tons of them at his house,” explained Sonya. “But he brought a bunch over here for us to use.”
“I’ve been collecting them since I was a kid,” Seth explained. “Every Christmas and birthday that’s all I wanted. Legos and zucchini bread.”
“Not cake?”
He shrugged. “Never was much of one for frosting. But zucchini bread? I love it. And your grandmother’s lemon cake was just as good.”
His reference to yesterday’s meeting made her wince inside. He seemed more relaxed now, but she wasn’t in an emotional place to deal with anyone else’s mood swings. Hers were quite enough for the moment.
“Now I watch for Lego sets on the internet,” he continued. “Mom checks out garage sales for me. And so the collection grows.”
“I think it’s neat, Uncle Seth.” Sonya slanted him a grin of pure admiration. “A lot of grown-ups forget how to play. You didn’t.”
He smiled, but veiled sadness weighted his eyes. “Sometimes it’s hard to stay in practice. But I try.”
“And that’s good,” Sonya decided. “May I come visit soon?”
“Yes. Check with Mom and Luke, okay? We’ll figure out schedules. I’m working next weekend, but then you guys are off for winter break, so that would probably work.”
“Cool!”
She ran off to tackle her parents for a definite date, and Seth took a seat on the rugged bench pulled up to the table. “Cute kid.”
“Beautiful. So sweet and soft-spoken.”
He laughed. “Well, Dorrie got enough noise factor for both of them, so they balance each other out. Sonya’s quiet common sense keeps Dorrie and Aiden out of trouble. Some of the time.”
Gianna smiled. “I love big families. I love being from a big family, even though I only have my brother. Most of the Bianchis live within three miles of our family home, so everything requires a family gathering. And family approval.”
“Ouch. My mother’s just the opposite, like one of those birds that pushes their young out of the nest with both wings flapping.” He made a squawking bird sound while he did a mock shove with both hands.
Gianna burst out laughing, imagining the small woman shoving her big sons out the back door. “Sink or swim.”
“Exactly. I still carry the bruises.”
She made a face at him. “Poor baby. My mother can be a sweetheart, but she worries everything to death. Then she gets frantic, picks up the phone and calls friends, family and passing strangers to tell them what’s going on and ask their opinion. By the time she’s done she needs a heart pill and a coffee klatch so they can dissect our lives even further.”
“But you love her.”
Gianna smiled. “Oh, yes. She’s been there for me through thick and thin. We lost my dad when I was young, and she managed to raise Joe and me on her own. With advice from Aunt Rose, of course, her slightly younger, slightly thinner sister. And Aunt Rose has been praying for me nonstop ever since I lost my husband. They’re amazing women, very strong but crazy dramatic. I don’t do drama well.”
“Me, either. Aren’t they worried about you being five hours away with these babies?”
Should she pretend they knew? Carry the pretense further? One look at Seth’s honest face made her realize the time for honesty had come. “They don’t know. Gram is the only one who knows I’m pregnant. It’s a complicated story, but for the next few weeks I’m going to keep it quiet, because once I come clean there will be family everywhere. Right now I’m clutching the moments of calm and holding them close to my heart.”
His face shadowed as he absorbed her information. He aimed his gaze outward, as if watching the water, seeing the waves, but the cold, frozen night allowed no such thing. Then he turned. His expression had relaxed but his eyes—“Campbell blue” she’d named them when she’d seen his father’s eyes of similar color—looked older. Troubled. “How hurt will they be?”
His question startled her. And made her think hard. Then she shrugged and met his look pragmatically. “They’ll be hurt at first, but once they realize that I’ve moved forward, they’ll be happy. I was...” She didn’t know how to say this next, how much to explain, but something about Seth made it almost easy to share things she’d never told anyone. Although she hadn’t exactly felt that way yesterday. “I went a little crazy after Michael died. There were times—” Her throat choked because thoughts of self-destruction didn’t sit well in the midst of faith, family and friends. The mental anguish that swelled after losing her husband and child put a serious hurt on her, heart and soul. “—that I didn’t want to live. I think I crawled under the covers and stayed in bed for a long, long time. And even when I was pretending to be awake, my spirit stayed under those covers.”
His face softened. “Grief’s a heartbreaker.”
“Yes.”
“So.” He stood and reached out a hand. “I know you haven’t eaten a thing since you got here, and from the look of you, you’re not eating enough for one these days much less for three people. How about my kitchen specialty? Campbell Grilled Cheese? Easy on the stomach, and my mother has homemade bread that makes the sandwich a meal.”
Grilled cheese had never sounded so good before. Or was it the big guy’s empathetic look? His calm gaze? The strength that came through the touch of his hand to hers? A strength she could lean into.
Except she didn’t dare lean on anyone’s strength but her own and God’s. And certainly not another man wearing a badge and a gun. But when Seth’s hand clasped hers and pulled her up, when they came face-to-face for just a moment, a tiny stretch of time that felt like it should last forever, part of her wanted to stay right there, caught in the moment. Hand in hand. Heart to heart.
He tugged her forward and she went willingly, wondering what it was about this man that attracted her.
You want a list? Let’s start with the good looks. The broad chest. The way he carries himself, tall but thoughtful. That easy smile. The depth of character. The strong way he stands, legs braced—the wolf looking after the sheep. And if that’s not enough for you, try the sweet nature that lies beneath the gruff exterior.
She’d had enough of the gruff exterior yesterday, but the rest of the list was spot-on. She perched on a kitchen stool and chatted with him as he put together a wonderful, thick grilled-cheese sandwich. And when she took the first bite, she knew he was right—she’d never had a better grilled cheese. But part of that might be the company she kept in the kitchen, the calming effect of the man’s ease. As a cheer erupted from the family room two levels down, she looked up at him, chagrined. “Seth. I forgot about the game. Go down and watch it,” she ordered, sounding a lot like her mother. That thought made her cringe inside, but she didn’t desist. “You’re missing everything.”
A slow smile worked its way across his face as he contemplated her, a smile that said maybe the game wasn’t all that important, but being here was.
She was crazy to think that. Foolish.
But then he reached out one of those big hands and grazed her cheek ever so gently. “There’s always another game.”
Her heart went soft. His look. His touch. The warmth in his face alongside the pain he tried to hide.
She understood that ploy all too well.
She smiled up at him, determined to play nice but keep her distance. He didn’t know her issues. He’d find out soon enough, because once her family arrived in town nothing would be kept secret.
She loved their honesty but couldn’t handle the theatrics that went hand in hand, not just yet. For now she was content with her sewing and the feelings of a successful pregnancy to date. That was enough to thank God for at the moment.
Seeing Seth’s profile as he washed up the griddle, humming lightly, a tiny longing grew inside her, a small, yawning hole of emptiness.
Michael should have been here caring for her. Helping her. Through no fault of his own he was gone.
But watching Seth make quick work of the kitchen chores, including washing up the dishes his mother had left behind, expanded that tiny window of hope. It felt good being here with Seth in the quiet of the kitchen. Maybe too good, but she’d figure that out tomorrow. Right now, it felt right, and Gianna hadn’t been able to say those words for a long time.
Tonight she could.
Chapter Seven
Yesterday had turned out much better than he’d expected.
Seth mulled over the big game party at his parents’ as he steered his SUV along the winding road circling Kirkwood Lake after working the afternoon shift on Monday. And with every thought of family and football came a more intriguing image of Gianna.
He’d glimpsed the woman behind the story. Hurting. Toughened. Forged by life.
But he also saw the gentility in her decisions. Her timeline was skewed, and Seth might not have gone through an actual pregnancy with Jasmine, but he had learned enough to know that science could perform some amazing feats these days. But that thought drew him up short, because shouldn’t God be in command?
Yes. Which meant arbitrarily creating children for a one-parent home wasn’t part of God’s plan.
He pulled into the driveway, did a K-turn in the turn-around and stopped short when his headlights caught a person in the twin beams. Small. Long, brown hair. Probably frozen solid sitting on his back porch.
Tori.
He shoved the car into Park and leaped out in one motion. “Tori!”
“Dad?”
Her voice broke. Her eyes filled as he approached, the house lights bathing the yard in welcome-home brightness. He grabbed her in his arms and held on tight.
His girl. His beautiful child. Back here, with him, tonight. “Honey, come in. Let’s get you warm. How long have you been here? And why didn’t you call me and tell me?”
He hustled her into the house, tossed a few extra logs onto the fire and then bundled her in blankets next to the woodstove.
She was shaking from cold. Tired and worn. But she was here, and they’d figure out the rest later. Right now he simply wanted to care for her.
And then he’d figure out what to do about Jasmine.
“How are we doing?” He brought her a mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows. “Careful, it’s hot.”
“Okay.” She breathed over the surface of the drink, and her expression told him she was exhausted. Worn-out from the cold and who knew what else.
“How’d you get here, honey?”
“Mom dropped me off.”
“She dropped you off in the cold?” Callous, unfeeling, self-absorbed... Had she ever put Tori first?
No. And he should have recognized that years ago. Feeling his way, he gave Jasmine the benefit of the doubt. “She thought I was home?”
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