Falling For The Mom-To-Be (Maple Springs #1)

by Jenna Mindel

  She glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty. The sun wouldn’t set for another two hours. Lifting a stack of scraped plates, she headed for the kitchen.

  “Oh, here, let me take those.” Erin reached for them.

  Annie shook her head. “No worries, I have them. I’m not an invalid yet.”

  Erin laughed. “No. I guess you’re not. You’re a dancer right?”

  Annie set the stack of plates on the counter. “An instructor now, but yes, I was. I own Marshall’s Movement.”

  “Nice. I’ve heard you give some great classes there.” Erin gave her a sweet smile. “No wonder you have an awesome figure.”

  “Thanks.” Annie chuckled. She’d always been too thin for an awesome figure. “Not for long, though.”

  Monica’s gaze wasn’t so sweet. She had a protective gleam in her eyes that made Annie nervous. “Will you stop your classes then?”

  Annie shrugged. “I hope to work as long as possible, with my doctor’s approval. Classes slow down toward the holidays. I’m not working with the community dance theatre this year, so the timing is right.”

  Monica rinsed and loaded the dishwasher while Erin hunted for plastic containers to store the leftovers. “So, you waited quite a while then, huh?”

  “Monica!” Erin looked horrified at such a personal question. She patted her hand. “You don’t have to answer that.”

  Annie didn’t miss the hint about her age. “It’s okay. Jack and I tried for years, but nothing happened before...this.”

  The hard stare softened. “I’m sorry for your loss. I met your husband once when he was here with Matthew. Seemed like a really nice guy.”

  “He was.” Her heart burned.

  “You’ve known Matthew a long time. I guess it’s no wonder you’ve grown closer.” Monica looked straight through Annie as if reading the book of her soul and not liking its secrets.

  Annie didn’t flinch. “Your brother’s a good friend.”

  Monica nodded, clearly not believing that answer.

  Annie retreated for the last stack of plates.

  Erin followed with a tray to gather up the condiments and gently touched her arm. “Don’t mind her. She and Matthew have always been tight. Marcus, too, I suppose. The three M’s of the family.”

  “Oh, no, it’s fine.” What else could she say? That she got it? Matthew’s family wanted someone else for him, someone younger who could give him a whole houseful of kids.

  Monica joined them and gathered up a bunch of glasses. “Thanks for helping. We usually wait a little while before serving dessert.”

  Annie held her belly. “No worries there. I’m stuffed.”

  “Me, too,” Erin echoed. “I hope you like strawberry-rhubarb pie.”

  “I do.” Not that she made a habit of eating sweets, but a small slice wouldn’t hurt. She’d already wolfed down half of a cheeseburger.

  “Good, because Mom makes the best.” Erin gave her a conspiring wink. “And its Matthew’s favorite.”

  “Good to know.” Annie pretended to tuck that knowledge away for future reference.

  “We’re pretty much done here, if you want to go relax or play horseshoes.” Monica latched the dishwasher and hit the on switch. “We team up and play against each other hoping to beat Dad.”

  “I’m not much of a horseshoe thrower, but I’d love to sit by the fire.”

  Monica looked relieved. She obviously didn’t want Annie anywhere near their family tradition. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll tell Matthew.”

  Annie nodded and made her escape.

  Finding the perfect chair near the fire pit, Annie plunked down. Helen had joined the rest at the horseshoe pits along the side yard near the tree line, so Annie was relatively alone.

  A welcome relief, too. Ten minutes later, she still stared into the flames of the campfire, gathering her thoughts. The metallic clinks and clangs of horseshoes lulled her into a sleepy state, but she didn’t close her eyes. For the first time in over a month, they were finally wide-open. And she knew what needed done.

  Later, though. She stretched out her legs onto the Adirondack-style lounge and yawned.

  “Tired?” Matthew leaned over her.

  Her pulse skittered. “Yeah.”

  “Monica said you weren’t interested in horseshoes. I could use a partner. Or would you rather head for home?”

  Dear, kindhearted Matthew. She didn’t want to take him away from his family, or deny him a slice of his favorite pie. With Matthew and his siblings wrapped up in their horseshoe tournament, she wouldn’t have to answer any more questions about the baby.

  “You go ahead. I’m fine right here. I might even close my eyes.”

  He rubbed her shoulder. “Everything okay?”

  It wasn’t, but now wasn’t the time for all that. “I’m a little sleepy. Need-a-short-nap sleepy, not done-for-the-night, you know?”

  He hesitated and then stripped off the long-sleeve shirt he wore over a T-shirt. He draped it over her and then braced his hands on the armrests of the chair. “So you don’t get cold.”

  Glancing up into his eyes, her heart broke. “Thanks.”

  He looked troubled, too, like he wanted to say something. “Annie...”

  She managed a smile. “Don’t keep your family waiting.”

  He leaned closer and gave her a featherlight kiss. “Have a good nap.”

  The thickness in her throat made it impossible to respond, so she nodded. As she watched him walk back to his family, Annie knew their brief kiss had been seen. It didn’t matter. No one had bought into the claim that they were just friends, anyway.

  And everyone had believed her baby was Matthew’s. And that had been the final blow. Sure, they’d been corrected, but if Matthew’s own family questioned them—questioned her—what chance did she have with anyone in town?

  Annie replayed Marie’s words through her mind. It’s what everyone will think.

  There was no escaping that truth. Not anymore.

  * * *

  Matthew ignored his mom’s concerned expression. He’d walked on thin ice before. “Annie’s going to nap for a bit.”

  “Babies tire a person out.” Monica gave him a pointed look, along with two horseshoes. “You know that, right?”

  Did she think he was stupid? He’d changed his share of Luke’s diapers. Even Erin’s. “You got something to say?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Then say it.” Matthew challenged.

  “Monica, stop it.” Their mom intervened.

  “And you wonder why I’ve never brought anyone home before,” he muttered.

  His mom cuffed the back of his head. “Knock it off and play.”

  “Oww.” He stepped into the sandpit and glared at his sister.

  Monica stuck her tongue out.

  “You’re both soooo mature.” Erin stood with arms folded at the opposite horseshoe pit. As Monica’s partner, the two of them would get crushed like always. “Let’s go.”

  Matthew threw his shoe. It hit the pole with a clang and bounced off. No points there.

  Erin was only twenty-three and the baby sister. The one everyone had looked after and made sure stayed on the straight and narrow. Having six older brothers made it impossible for her to bring anyone home.

  The last fellow had been the kid who’d picked her up for senior prom. Erin still hadn’t forgiven Marcus and Ben for sticking a rotten fish in the backseat of the kid’s car while it was parked during the dance.

  Matthew had been the one elected to console her after the date ended too soon. He’d had to explain that their prank had more do to with keeping Erin out of trouble than anything else. Not the most comfortable conversation he’d had with a sister, but a necessary one.

  He threw a
nother shoe and it bounced on the ground and rolled away.

  “Nice one.” Luke was his partner and not very pleased with his shoe-tossing performance thus far.

  “Get your head in the game,” Monica ground out.

  “What’s with you?” He pushed her shoulder before she released her shoe, knocking off her aim.

  She whirled on him. “Do that again, and you’ll find out.”

  He laughed as he always did. Monica was four years his junior and the prickly one in the family.

  Their mom rolled her eyes. “Do I have to separate you two?”

  They’d heard that before, too. Millions of times. He and Monica had fought the most, but she was the sister he felt closest to. Maybe because of the scratchy exterior she hid behind. Monica might be twenty-eight and successful with a web design and marketing business, but she wasn’t as confident as she portrayed. As the middle sister, Monica got lost between their sister Cat’s achievements and Erin’s easygoing sweetness.

  Monica looked at him and grinned. Then she threw her second horseshoe and landed a ringer.

  They played for half an hour, but Matthew and Luke couldn’t manage a win. Beaten. By their sisters. The four of them exited the horseshoe lane to make way for the next two teams.

  “That’s it for us.” Matthew wiped his hands on the front of his T-shirt.

  “Too bad,” Monica said.

  Matthew nodded toward the fire. “I think I’ll check on Annie.”

  Monica gave him a stern look. “So, what’s the deal with all that?”

  “Don’t you like her?” Matthew couldn’t imagine what reason Monica might have, but her expression was far from approving.

  “My opinion has nothing to do with it.”

  He grinned. “Never stopped you before.”

  “Ha-ha. Seriously, though, isn’t this a little fast? You weren’t interested in settling down, and now you’re ready to raise someone else’s kid.”

  “Things change.”

  Monica shrugged and then gave him a gruff hug. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.”

  “Same with me for you. The right guy’s out there for you.”

  Monica’s eyes grew stormy. “He’s taking his sweet time!”

  That sounded a lot like she had someone specific in mind. But before he could ask, Monica had moved out of conversation distance. He’d let it go for now. She wouldn’t tell him, anyway.

  Matthew looked around.

  Darren and their dad against Cam and Marcus were the last two pairs to play. He’d seen this matchup many times before and could easily predict the outcome. No one beat Darren and Dad.

  Walking toward the dying fire close to the sandy beach, he slipped into a chair next to Annie. Her eyes were closed and she rested folded hands across her middle. His shirt lay draped over her, and her thick hair tumbled around her shoulders.

  She looked peaceful in sleep.

  He felt anything but. Tomorrow morning he’d travel hours to catch ship for his next rotation. He wanted a future with Annie, but his mother’s words nagged that it wasn’t the right time to press that. Monica’s concern with timing increased his doubts.

  Was he pushing too hard?

  Annie opened her eyes and stared at him. “Hey.”

  “This is getting to be a habit, watching you sleep.” He chuckled. “Have a good nap?”

  “Actually, I did.” She sat up and yawned. “Where is everyone?”

  He jerked his head toward the sound of clanging metal. “Still playing shoes.”

  She nodded and looked away, staring at the glowing embers of an old fire.

  “What’s wrong, Annie?”

  She blew out her breath. “We need to talk.”

  True, but hearing her say it didn’t sound good. He offered his hand. “Let’s walk, then.”

  She took it and stood, then held out his shirt.

  “You can wear it.”

  She slipped it on and folded her arms.

  Even her body language didn’t bode well. She was shutting him out. Self-protective because he was leaving or something more? He aimed to find out.

  They walked the shoreline in silence, along a well-worn path.

  “It’s pretty here,” Annie finally said.

  “I think so.” Matthew knew small talk when he heard it. Annie’s attempt at inane chatter spoke volumes. Something bothered her.

  Looking out over the small lake, he saw a kingfisher swoop down and nab a minnow. Frogs belched out their evening songs and a dog barked in the distance.

  She stopped walking and looked up at him. “Your rotation came at a good time.”

  His gut tightened. “Why’s that?”

  “I think we need to call it quits for a while.”

  He narrowed his gaze. “Why?”

  Annie rubbed her forehead. “I need to figure some things out. If we make a clean break, if we agree not to call each other, it’ll give us both time to think things through, find out what we really want.”

  Matthew considered her request. It wasn’t as if he had time or cell coverage to call her much, anyway, so there had to be more to it. “Annie, what’s really bothering you?”

  She took a deep breath. “I need time.”

  “Okay, I get that. When I get back we can—”

  She held up her hand, stalling him. “I’m not talking about a couple of months. I’m talking about real time like well after the baby’s born, after I settle into being a mom. Right now I need to focus on that. Expecting you to fill Jack’s shoes isn’t fair to either of us.”

  “What makes you think that’s what you’re doing?”

  Annie shrugged. “I heard about the seagull on the William Lee Block. I saw the picture of you and the baby raccoon. Monica even admitted that you have a soft spot for orphans and widows.”

  His stomach churned fire. “You think this is about me feeling sorry for you?”

  “Face it, Matthew. You feel responsible for me because you’re the one who found Jack. Maybe deep down you feel guilty.”

  His guilt stemmed from feelings for her. Feelings he’d had for a long time now.

  “Sure, I feel a level of obligation to Jack. But why is that a bad thing? We’ve known each other a long time. It should be no surprise when our friendship turns into something deeper.”

  She struggled for composure, then stepped closer and cupped his face. “I’m not a young woman. I pray I’ll have this child just fine, but there’s a good chance this is it for me. There won’t be any more.”

  He let that sink in. Jack’s boy may be the only son he’d ever have. The only child. He hadn’t given much thought to having a family because that limitation had never been a reality. At thirty-two, he had plenty of time. Annie, at forty, didn’t.

  He placed his hands on her hips and let his forehead fall to hers. “Something to consider, I suppose.”

  She pulled back. “Not having kids gnawed at Jack.”

  “I’m not Jack.”

  She faced him. “I know, but—”

  He pulled her back to him. “Annie, look at me.”

  She did.

  “I’m not Jack.”

  Then she lowered the boom with a shrill sound to her voice. “And that’s part of the problem, don’t you see?”

  He didn’t.

  Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m pregnant and I need to honor Jack’s memory. Alone.”

  “You are. We both are. How do we dishonor Jack by being together?”

  She looked at him like he was an idiot for not following her. “Your family believed this baby was yours.”

  “After I put my foot in my mouth and said ‘that’s my boy.’ They know the truth, Annie.”

  “But others don’t and they
won’t. If we continue seeing each other, they’ll always wonder.”

  Irritation ripped through him. “You care too much what other people think. If the ones that count know the truth, what difference does it make?”

  “It makes a big difference to me,” she growled. “I won’t have anyone question where my son comes from.”

  Once again, the gossip and whatever Jack’s mom had said dogged her thoughts. He’d hoped meeting his family, especially his mom, might have trumped that. Obviously it hadn’t. And he’d made things worse with his offhand remarks.

  He searched her eyes. She cared more about what people might think of her than what they had. Maybe his mother was right. Annie wasn’t ready for his love. Might never be ready.

  “It’s too soon,” she whispered.

  He’d really grown to hate that statement. “Says who?”

  “Me.” She lifted her chin.

  Stubborn woman.

  That wasn’t true. If it was, she’d never have spent so much time with him. “So you’re going to let what others think get in the way of something that might last a lifetime?”

  “I have to, Matthew. I have a business to run.” She sighed and walked away from him.

  “But, I love you, Annie. I always have.”

  She whipped around, her face pale. “Don’t say that.”

  He wanted to shake sense into her, tell her that breaking off all contact was yet another loss. An unnecessary one. “Did you ever wonder why there was never anyone else? No one compared to you.”

  She covered her ears. “Stop it! We were friends—I never wanted anything more!”

  “I’m not blaming you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You were simply being you, and I—”

  “I love Jack—” Her voice cracked as tears ran down her flushed cheeks.

  He reached for her.

  “Don’t.”

  He might be a navigational whiz on the lakes, but he’d never been good at emotional warning signs. He never should have admitted what he couldn’t take back. Angry, because of her stubborn pride, Matthew had pushed ahead. Not fighting fair, he’d admitted his feelings before she’d been ready to hear them.