by Mindy Neff
There was more.
‘‘I love you,’’ she whispered.
Chapter Fourteen
Eden was about to wear a hole in the kitchen floor, pacing, debating. Two weeks ago she’d told Stony she loved him. But he hadn’t said it back. He’d just tucked her against his side, held her as though he did.
Eden hoped like crazy she wasn’t fixing to make a big mistake. She picked up the portable phone, stood by the sink where snow piled on the outside windowsill and heat from apple pies in the oven and hot spiced cider bubbling on the stove fogged the glass.
‘‘Hey there, partner,’’ she said when Carrie answered. ‘‘You sound harried. Christmas season getting to you? Only ten shopping days left, you know.’’
‘‘Hush your mouth. I’ve barely started, and the kids want everything they see on every commercial. About the time I think Santa’s got his list checked twice, the dang thing changes! How about you? As organized as you usually are? Bring me up to date.’’
Eden laughed. ‘‘I know something about want lists changing daily. Nikki insists Rosie—a black Irish setter, by the way—is thinkin’ up the stuff. And I’m not quite as organized this year. The snow makes shopping a bit of a challenge. It’s freezing here, Carrie. And driving icy roads is a lesson in humility, though I’m proud to say I’ve only dented the bumper on the truck twice.’’
‘‘Just the bumper?’’ Carrie asked.
‘‘Well, the fender got a little crease in it, but that wasn’t my fault. It was a woman with a runaway shopping cart—thing just pulled her right along like she was waterskiing on ice. I got so tickled, and then I felt really bad when the cart bounced off the fender and she went sprawling.’’
Carrie laughed. ‘‘Dang, I miss you, Will.’’
‘‘So come see me. Mama and Daddy are coming in this afternoon. And Shotgun Ridge is so beautiful, Carrie, with Christmas lights and holly and snowmen wearing all manner of festive garments. It’s all white and sparkly—’’
‘‘And cold,’’ Carrie said.
‘‘Yes, but the smell of wood smoke from all the chimneys is so wonderful, and it just makes you feel warmer somehow.’’
‘‘It does sound tempting, but we’re crazy-busy here. I’ve hired two more people and dragged John and the kids in to help. You should see them, Eden. Crystal and Steven look so cute in tuxedos—if John’s with me, we take the kids rather than trying to find a last-minute sitter. They love it and they’re really a big help. And if I play my cards right, I might be able to sweet-talk John into quitting the factory and coming to work with me.’’
Eden felt a little zing pierce her chest at the realization that she truly was expendable. She shook her head. This was Carrie. Her lifelong friend. And it gave Eden’s heart a lift that Carrie was excited and thriving and had such dedication and love for the business Eden had started out of her own kitchen ten years ago, having to literally drag Carrie into it as a partner.
‘‘Well, I guess you don’t need me, then.’’
‘‘Don’t be silly,’’ Carrie said quickly. ‘‘I didn’t mean—’’
‘‘I know, Mugs.’’
AFTER SHE GOT OFF THE PHONE with Carrie, Eden sat Nikki at the table with a glass of milk and plate of Christmas cookies.
‘‘You sit right there, sugar. I’ll be back quick as a wink. And when the judge gets here, we’ll dump flour all over the table and have us a Christmas cookie cutting party.’’
‘‘Can Rosie help?’’
Eden grinned. ‘‘I’ll see if I can find a job for her.’’
She went into the bathroom off the kitchen, opened the drawer on the left, took out the pregnancy test box, ripped the cellophane off and tossed the instructions in the trash. She wasn’t going to be a ninny about the whole process this time. If she was pregnant, she was pregnant. If she wasn’t, she’d make an appointment and haul herself down to Dr. Hammond’s and find out what the problem was. She wasn’t going to fall apart. She wasn’t going to get her hopes up. She wasn’t going to—
Glass shattering against granite and Nikki’s bloodcurdling scream brought Eden right up off the toilet before she’d finished peeing on the test strip. She slung the stick on the counter, yanking up her stretch pants as she ran into the kitchen, her heart in her mouth, fear nearly blinding her.
Nikki was sitting stock-still on top of the counter, glass slivered around her knees and on the floor, screaming her lungs out.
‘‘Rosie, stay,’’ Eden commanded as she raced across the room, lifted Nikki out of harm’s way and hugged her tight.
‘‘What in the world? Shh. Shh. You’re okay.’’ She could hardly draw in a full breath as panic ran amok through her system. Nikki was crying as though she was mortally wounded, but Eden hadn’t seen any blood.
With her legs clinging like a monkey’s around Eden’s waist, Nikki continued to sob.
‘‘There, doll baby. It’s all right. I’ve got you now. Rosie, come here. We don’t need you cutting your paws.’’
Eden sat at the kitchen table with Nikki in her lap, her little legs and arms still wrapped tight. Her heart still hadn’t settled, and she considered cutting loose and squalling right along with her little girl. ‘‘Hush now, and tell me where you’re hurt, sugar.’’
Nikki sucked in a breath, leaned back and held up her index finger as though she was E.T. Eden’s eyes nearly crossed trying to see so close. ‘‘Cryin’ out loud. All that caterwauling over that little bitty ol’ scratch?’’
‘‘It stings,’’ Nikki said. Amazingly enough, she’d turned off the waterworks as quickly as they’d begun.
‘‘I think you scared yourself is what you did. Scared me right off the pot.’’
Nikki giggled.
‘‘So what happened?’’
‘‘Rosie wanted a glass of milk with her cookies, too.’’
‘‘Sugar, wait for me next time and I’ll help. Okay?’’
‘‘Okay.’’ Nikki wiggled her finger. ‘‘It still hurts.’’
‘‘I bet a Snoopy bandage would fix it right up. Do you know where they are?’’ Nikki nodded, perking up. So did Rosie. The two together were a menace. ‘‘Okay, hop down and get the bandage while I get this glass picked up.’’
A few minutes later Eden dumped glass in the trash can, then lifted Nikki to her lap and wrapped the bandage around her tiny little finger and pressed it to her lips. ‘‘There. I kissed it and made it all better.’’
Nikki twisted in Eden’s lap and plastered herself like taffy to Eden’s chest. ‘‘I love you to pieces.’’
Oh, my gosh. Eden’s heart leaped right into her throat. ‘‘Oh, doll baby, I love you, too.’’ And she did. Now if she could just get Nikki’s daddy to fall in line all would be well.
Except—Oh, Lord, she’d forgotten all about the test!
‘‘Can Rosie and me go play Barbies till the judge gets here and we get to make the cookies?’’
Nikki had a look in her eyes that made Eden suspicious. ‘‘Y’all aren’t gonna play in the fireplace or anything?’’
Nikki giggled and shook her head back and forth with enough force to give herself whiplash.
‘‘Here, now, you’re gonna get dizzy as a doodle bug.’’ She set Nikki on the floor. ‘‘Scoot. Your daddy’ll be back from the airport with my parents in just a bit.’’
When Nikki and Rosie bounded up the stairs, Eden made herself walk into the bathroom. Bravely. As though she didn’t care one way or the other.
‘‘Okay, where the heck did it go?’’ It wasn’t on the counter. She looked on the floor, got on her knees and checked behind the commode. She was starting to feel sick at her stomach with all this fear zinging around. First Nikki, and now the blasted stick had disappeared. Maybe it was an omen. God didn’t want her to find it, if it was bad news. She scooted the trash can out of the way—and there it was. She must have flung it so hard it had slid right across the vanity top and kept on going.
She held her breath, felt her stomach flip, f
elt like a thousand wasps were stinging from the base of her sternum clear up to her throat.
Only one pink stripe.
She swallowed, bit her bottom lip. ‘‘Okay, Eden, deal with it. If it was meant to be, it’d be. And starin’ at the blessed thing isn’t going to make it grow another stripe.’’ She tossed it in the trash, opened the bathroom door and came face-to-face with the kitchen door opening, Stony and her parents shaking snow off their hats and coats.
Stony glanced up at her. His gaze went from the bathroom and back. All within an instant his eyes widened in question, lit with excitement, then settled softly into Oh, baby, I’m sorry.
Eden smiled to let him know she wasn’t about to start bawling, then looked at her mother. And then she almost did start bawling. Beverley Williams opened her arms, and Eden stepped into them and swallowed hard. Darn it, she was not going to fall apart in her mama’s arms. And somehow Beverley understood.
‘‘I know, darlin’,’’ she whispered, her alto voice shaking a bit. ‘‘And I imagine you’ve done enough crying these past months, so we’ll not do anymore today, hmm?’’
Eden gave a watery chuckle and kissed her mother’s cheek. ‘‘I’ve missed you, Mama.’’
‘‘Yes, I’m quite sure you’ve had a time of it without my meddling in your affairs and your daddy tryin’ to tell you how to cook.’’
Eden grinned. ‘‘Well, I have to admit you are pretty good at settling people’s lives when you’re all decked out in your judge’s robes, and Daddy does know his way around the kitchen. I could be worse off.’’ She turned. ‘‘Hey, Daddy,’’ she said softly and hugged him tight. ‘‘Y’all get in here out of the cold. Are your suitcases still in the truck?’’
She looked at Stony, but he merely shrugged. ‘‘I’m just the driver.’’
‘‘We’re staying at that charming boarding house in town, darlin’,’’ Beverley said. ‘‘Didn’t I tell you? Now don’t fuss. We’ve already checked in, and Mildred and Opal are truly hospitable. And your daddy’s already struck a bargain with the lovely couple at Brewer’s Saloon and plans to cook up a storm while he’s here.’’
‘‘My gosh. You certainly got acquainted and acclimated in a hurry.’’
‘‘We had an advantage. Lottie brought pictures and plenty of stories. We feel like folks here are old friends.’’
‘‘Did you bring Aunt Lottie?’’
‘‘No. She and Ray went on to Florida. Evidently your neighbors, the Malones, have people staying down there.’’
‘‘Wyatt’s parents.’’
‘‘That’s it.’’ Beverley took off her gloves and coat. ‘‘Now, let’s get us introduced to the little sunshine in this household—and her cohort, Rosie, an intelligent Irish setter if I’m to understand correctly.’’
Eden grinned. Just like the judge to get all the facts beforehand.
THE FOLLOWING DAY Eden’s heart leaped into her throat again, and adrenaline sent fire ants over her skin, making her feel faint.
Demone was coming up to the back door, Stony’s arm slung around his shoulder. The man, two times older and two times smaller was practically carrying her husband.
Eden snatched open the door. ‘‘What happened?’’ She could hardly get her breath. Panic zinged, and she tried to control it.
‘‘Devil horse kicked him right in the family jewels.’’
Automatic reflex had Eden reaching out to touch. It was instinctive. Stony scowled at her, and she jerked her hand back.
‘‘Doc’s coming,’’ Demone said. ‘‘I called him from the barn half an hour ago.’’
‘‘Half an hour? Where have y’all been?’’
‘‘Took a good while for Stony to get his legs under him.’’
‘‘There’s not a damned thing wrong with my vocal cords, and I’d appreciate the two of you not talking around me as though I’m an oak planted in the middle of the floor.’’
Eden’s gaze darted down, then up again. She knew this wasn’t a laughing matter, but she still had the urge to do so. And he did look a bit like an oak—a terribly upset one—towering over her and Demone the way he was. She swallowed the inappropriate bubble of mirth and closed the door behind them. ‘‘Let’s get him up to bed.’’
Stony took his arm from around Demone. ‘‘I can make it there under my own steam.’’
‘‘Cryin’ out loud, Stony. There’s no call to get so embarrassed.’’ Although, he was looking kind of pale and that worried her.
‘‘Who the hell said I’m embarrassed? I’m madder than spit at myself for not getting out of that son of Satan’s way.’’
‘‘Of course you are.’’ She turned quickly, pressed her hand to her chest, took a deep breath. There. Sober as a judge. Not a dimple in sight. She had no idea what made her want to laugh, when this was a grave situation and her poor husband must be in awful pain. Was she getting hysterical? Had two panics in two days sent her around the bend?
‘‘You go on up. I’ll wait and let Chance in.’’ She imagined Stony would appreciate the privacy. A big guy with a very delicate problem. And she didn’t think a Snoopy bandage would work. A kiss might, but…
WHEN CHANCE CAME DOWNSTAIRS after seeing to Stony, he stopped in the kitchen.
‘‘How is he?’’
‘‘Surly as a bear with a sore—well, you get it. Nothing broken or bleeding. Just bruised. He’ll be out of commission for a bit.’’
‘‘Of course.’’ Always the correct hostess, she took a mug off the shelf, when what she really wanted to do was run up the stairs and check on him for herself. ‘‘Would you like a cup of hot cider?’’
‘‘No. Grace shifted a couple of patients for me when Demone called. I’d better get back.’’ He put a comforting hand on Eden’s shoulder, his professional gaze moving over her skin tone, her eyes. ‘‘How about you? Any changes I should know about?’’
Eden shrugged. ‘‘Um, I was late last month, then just had some spotting. No gully washers like before. I’m a little late right now. But both pregnancy tests have registered negative.’’
‘‘You should come into the office, let me check you over, do some blood work.’’
She nodded. ‘‘I know. After the holidays, okay?’’ She wanted to at least make it through Christmas before she put herself back under the care of a professional who’d likely urge her to see the surgeon.
Right now, if she had to choose between the grim reaper and the knife, she’d choose the knife. She wanted to live. For Stony and Nikki. With Stony and Nikki.
She let Chance out and took a cup of hot cider up to the bedroom. Stony was sitting on the side of the bed wearing only his white briefs. A fire blazed in the fireplace, keeping the room nice and warm.
‘‘What are you doing?’’ She put the cup on the nightstand and pulled back the covers. ‘‘You should be in bed.’’
He shook his head, looked up at her. ‘‘I want you to go.’’
‘‘I told you before, there’s no reason to be embarrassed.’’
‘‘That’s not what I’m talking about, Eden.’’ Stony was aching, both below the belt and in his heart. This was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. But their six months were almost up. ‘‘I can’t make love to you.’’
‘‘I know that.’’ She smiled. ‘‘Honestly, did you think I was going to jump your bones?’’
He didn’t smile. He wanted to yell. He was always the one in control, the one who took care of everybody and everything. He didn’t like giving up that control.
‘‘This is your critical time, Eden. You’ve got to go. Find someone who can…’’ God, he hated to say it. ‘‘You’ve got to find somebody who can get you pregnant.’’
Her brows lowered along with her jaw. ‘‘Come again?’’
‘‘Don’t make this any more difficult than it is. I know what having a baby means to you. I’d give anything in my power to make that happen for you, but I can’t. I haven’t. And now I’m practically useless.’’
&n
bsp; She stared at him for a full five seconds. ‘‘Our six months aren’t up yet.’’ Her tone was chillingly polite, as though she was about to throw a shoe, but was too well-bred to do so.
He raked a hand through his hair. ‘‘I’m releasing you from that, Eden. Time’s running out. You have to try for your dream.’’
She continued to stare at him, and for once he had no idea what she was thinking, feeling. Her body was absolutely motionless; not rigid, but not relaxed, either. He began to sweat, feeling like a big idiot, sitting here in his underwear, admitting that he couldn’t even get his own wife pregnant.
‘‘I know what you’re doing,’’ she said, and simply spun on her booted heal and walked out of the room.
Stony’s heart sank to his toes. How would he ever get along without her? How would he keep his sanity while she packed up her things? Walked out of his life? She’d accumulated a lot more stuff in the past six months. How was she going to fit it all in her little convertible?
And damn it, the roads were still too slippery for her to be zipping around in that sports car, regardless of the snow tires he’d put on it.
He heard the front door slam and frowned. Jaw clamped, wincing, he pushed himself off the bed and slowly moved to the hall. He called her name, didn’t get an answer and felt his heart begin to knock violently beneath his ribs.
Limping, he made it over to the window just in time to see his truck shoot out of the driveway, the back end fishtailing like a sidewinder. He swore. She was going to get herself killed. Damn it, she was upset—he should have seen it—way too upset to be driving on slushy roads.
By God, he’d have to go after her. But where? He managed to get his jeans up, sucked in his breath when he worked the zipper, then pulled a sweatshirt over his head and tugged on socks and boots. Each step of the staircase had him swearing, sweating. In the kitchen he grabbed his coat off the rack and jammed his hat on his head. As he went to slam out the back door, a yellow sticky note stuck at eye level stopped him:
Stony, if you’re reading this, you ought to be ashamed, because the doctor told you to stay in bed. Nikki and I are at the Malones’—if you’ll recall we were due for dinner. However, I’d appreciate it if you’d just stay home. I’m not in the mood to deal with you just yet.
