by Brenda Novak
“No, it’s too late for me to go over to Mrs. Higgins’s. Especially since she isn’t expecting me. I don’t want to give her a heart attack thinking someone’s breaking into her house.”
“Why not go back to my place?”
“And strand you here?”
She gestured at the room full of people. “I can get a ride.”
He wanted to pull her to him, to rest his chin on her head and close his eyes for a few minutes. He would have, except he was already getting too many curious looks from the people he hadn’t met until this evening. “I won’t leave you.”
“But it might be a while yet. I feel bad, now, that I asked you to come.”
“It’s fine,” he insisted.
“What time is it?”
He checked his watch. “Midnight.”
“Baxter should be here by now.”
“Baxter? Is that the baby’s name?”
She laughed. “No. That’s a friend who’s coming from San Francisco.”
“As long as he arrives soon, he should make it. This baby doesn’t seem to be in any hurry.”
“A baby’s always on its own clock.”
Was she pregnant? As much as he’d tried to forget about the possibility, he couldn’t entirely avoid it. She hadn’t said anything when he’d used a condom since then, hadn’t told him the effort was futile. But he had no idea what she was thinking. Neither of them had planned to be in their current situation.
“Will you be in here in nine months, doing the same thing?” He hadn’t intended to ask. He’d told himself he’d leave without knowing, that he’d ask later, when he’d adjusted to the changes ahead of him. He wasn’t any good for Eve. But the words had slipped out and they’d caught her unawares, too. Her eyes flew to his face and her lips parted, but before she could answer, Baxter walked in and, following a slight hesitation, Eve hurried off to greet her friend.
After that, there was too much commotion to talk about anything serious. Everyone was eager to catch up with the newest addition to the group. Then their friend Gail called from Los Angeles and she and her movie star husband spoke to everyone on someone’s speakerphone. An hour or so after that, Baxter managed to separate himself from the others and walked over to the corner Rex and Eve were occupying.
Rex smiled because they’d already been introduced, but Baxter didn’t speak directly to him. He gave Rex a once-over before shifting his attention to Eve. “This guy looks like he could model for Armani, doesn’t he?”
Eve went a little red. Rex could tell she wasn’t quite comfortable with Baxter’s approach. “He’s definitely handsome.”
Rex wasn’t quite comfortable with the compliment himself. He had no idea what to say. “Thank you” seemed awkward, since Baxter hadn’t been speaking to him. But he couldn’t exactly pipe up with something self-deprecating like “Yeah, well, you should see how screwed up my life is,” either.
Fortunately, he didn’t need to say anything because Baxter didn’t give him the chance. “Where’d you find him? Because if he has a twin brother who happens to be gay I want his number.”
“What?” Eve said. “You have a partner, remember?”
A hint of sadness entered his face, but he quickly masked it with a sneer. “Yeah, well, maybe not anymore.”
Eve sobered instantly. “What does that mean?”
“Scott stormed out while I was trying to get packed so I could come here.”
“Why?” Eve cried. “Did you get into an argument or—”
“It always causes an argument when I want to see you guys. He didn’t want me to come. Said I should wait until morning, and then we would both drive out for a few hours to see the new baby.”
“For a few hours,” she repeated. “He doesn’t like us.”
“He doesn’t like that you mean so much to me. And he hates staying with my parents.”
“Do you hate staying with them? Because I could always give you a room at the inn, if there’s an opening.”
“I could never stay anywhere else. It would break my mother’s heart. She doesn’t understand that it’s still a bitch to be around my father. He’s trying so hard to be accepting—or at least his version of accepting, which isn’t quite accepting at all.”
Rex felt he shouldn’t be part of such an intimate conversation. He’d barely met “Bax.” But he couldn’t walk away without seeming rude.
“Are you okay?” Eve asked.
Baxter nodded. “I’m fine. I think. Scott’ll be back. Maybe.”
“Do you really want him to come back if he’s that possessive?” Rex asked. He wasn’t sure where that had come from. He’d just decided he had no business contributing anything. But he saw how much these people meant to one another and hated to see any of them dragged away from the group.
Baxter didn’t seem to mind that he’d involved himself. He glanced over his shoulder to where a guy named Noah was talking to his wife.
“It’s better to be wanted than not, right?”
Eve clutched her friend’s arm. “There’s got to be someone out there who’ll love you for you and embrace your family and friends,” she said. But she didn’t get the chance to say more. Dylan appeared in the doorway at that moment and announced that he was the proud father of a healthy, strapping nine-pound, two-ounce baby boy.
After everyone had clapped and hugged one another, Baxter wandered across the room, drawn in by the excitement—and probably eager to avoid the subject that had just been broached. Chaos took hold for a few minutes, until Dylan raised his hands for silence. Then he looked at his brother—Eve had clued Rex in on who was related to whom, but that one was pretty obvious—and choked up a little.
“Cheyenne insisted that I name the baby,” he told everyone.
“So what’s it going to be?” someone called.
“Kellan Aaron Amos,” he replied. “Actually, she suggested Kellan because she saw it on some baby-name site and we both liked it, but...you know where I got the rest.”
When Eve whispered, “Oh, God!” and her gaze cut across the room to Aaron, who went white as a sheet, Rex wasn’t sure that honor was everything it was meant to be. But Dylan was so caught up in all the additional back-patting and good wishes, and assuring everyone that Cheyenne had come through labor and delivery like a champ, he didn’t seem to notice.
The awkward moment passed so quickly Rex was almost convinced he’d imagined it.
* * *
When they finally left the hospital, it was after four. Eve was tired but happy. She’d had a chance to see her best friend, who looked relieved and every bit the excited new mother. Eve had also had the chance to hold the baby, who’d been so exhausted from the ordeal of his birth that he’d hardly whimpered.
After that, everyone had taken turns holding Kellan. Even Aaron had held his namesake, although Eve hadn’t gotten the impression he was too thrilled when Dylan thrust the baby into his arms. He’d smiled and congratulated his brother but passed the newborn off as soon as possible.
Eve had glanced at Cheyenne, but Cheyenne had refused to look back at her. She’d kept a stubborn smile on her face as if nothing was wrong—as if she genuinely believed the baby was Dylan’s and nothing would ever convince her otherwise. And Presley had rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
Eve supposed that was how Cheyenne would have to handle what had to be a trying situation. It was too late to tell Dylan now. For better or for worse, she’d made the decision and would have to keep the secret for the rest of her life.
After the first few months, maybe it would get easier. It would have to get easier—
“Why did you say what you did when Dylan announced the name of his son?” Rex asked as they walked from his rental car to her house.
That made her miss a step, but she acted as if the loose gravel in the drive had caused it. “I was...happy for Aaron, you know?”
“‘Oh, God’ is happy?”
“In this case.”
“How so?”
“What’s interesting about that? The same can be said for most brothers.”
“In this case, there’ve been some...extenuating circumstances. When they were young, their mother killed herself. Dylan’s father couldn’t handle it. He started drinking, let his business go and eventually got into a brawl at a bar in the next town, where he stabbed a guy who ended up dying.”
“This place seems far too innocent for that.”
“People are people. They make mistakes and create problems. It’s the same wherever you go.”
“So Dylan’s father wound up in prison.”
“He did. For a good long while. And that meant Dylan had to take over as head of the household when he was only eighteen, or his four younger brothers would’ve been split up and put into foster care.”
“His father was there tonight, wasn’t he? Didn’t you introduce us?”
“Yes.” She got out her keys to let them in.
“When was he released?”
“Last summer. Everyone’s been trying to adjust ever since.”
He held the door so she could pass through. “How did he meet that woman he’s with?”
“Anya?”
“I couldn’t remember her name, but she seems a bit young for him.”
“She is, and they fight like crazy. Dylan thinks she only stays for the free rent. And she claims he’s good in bed.” She grimaced to show her distaste. “Which is information we’d all rather not have, of course. Dylan and his brothers don’t know what to do with her. They’d kick her out—they’d probably like to kick their father out, too—except they feel sorry for Anya’s daughter. The poor girl doesn’t stand much of a chance with that mother dragging her down.”
He locked up and checked the house to make sure it was secure. That reminded her of the danger he was in, but it also felt protective, as if he belonged in her house and had taken responsibility for her in some way he hadn’t before.
“There isn’t always a correlation,” he said as he followed her to the bedroom. “I had a good mother.”
“You’re saying how you turned out is not her fault?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“You’re not very generous to yourself.”
“I’m honest.”
She thought he was far too hard on himself. But she was so surprised that he’d volunteered anything about his family, she focused on that instead. “Tell me about her.”
He didn’t avoid the question as he usually did. “She was tall, thin, beautiful. My father adored her. We all did.” He shook his head. “She lived with a houseful of boys, each more eager than the last to protect her.” He was silent for a second, then finished more softly. “Which is why it tears my heart out every time I think of how badly I hurt her.”
She moved closer to him. “Like I said before, everyone makes mistakes, Rex. We all need second chances.”
He shrugged off her hand as if he couldn’t bear her kindness. “That sounds good—in theory. But some things can’t be fixed.”
“Sometimes the hardest person to forgive is ourselves.”
He took off his shirt. “That might be true. But forgiving myself wouldn’t be quite so hard if I hadn’t caused so much damage. I can’t blame my family for how they feel toward me. I earned that—and more.”
She unbuttoned her own blouse. “But isn’t that where love comes in? Love can compensate for anything.” They hadn’t bothered to turn on the light, but she could see the gleam in his eyes from the light spilling into the room and wondered what he was thinking. But he didn’t answer her; he just walked over and slid his arms around her waist, and she rested her cheek against his chest.
“You make me feel...”
“What?” she prodded when he let his words trail off.
“Fresh hope,” he said.
She wasn’t sure how to take his response. Those words should have given her some reassurance. But he’d said it as if that was the most attractive and yet painful thing of all.
26
The following morning, Rex was up and working on his computer when Eve’s alarm went off. She saw him at the kitchen table when she shuffled out to pour a glass of orange juice. She could smell the coffee he’d made, and wanted a cup, but had, of course, given it up for the pregnancy.
Just as she entered the kitchen, she realized it was Sunday, her day off, and she didn’t need to get up quite so early. “Damn.”
He glanced up. “What is it?”
“It just occurred to me that I could’ve turned off my alarm last night, but I forgot to.”
“No work this morning?”
“I switched a few shifts around at the inn so I can be there for Victorian Days tonight.”
“How long does that run?”
“Four days—Thursday through Sunday. What have you been doing this morning?”
He grimaced at his computer screen. “Trying to finish restoring all my files and taking care of a few things for Marilyn.”
“She’s your assistant, right?”
“Yeah. With me gone, she’s having to backfill a job I had this week. Christmas is a busy time of year. Lots of events that require security.”
“Did you tell her you were going to close down the office and relocate?”
He had his hair pulled back with one of her ties again, which accentuated his good bone structure. “No. I can’t give her bad news during the holidays.”
“It must be hard to let your employees go.” She knew what that felt like. When she was struggling to stay afloat, she’d had to consider laying off Pam and working those additional hours herself. In the end, she hadn’t been forced to do that, but it had been a close call. “Do you think one of them might be able to buy the business?”
“No one has much money. It’s not like they could give me a down payment. But I’ve got some savings, so maybe they could just make payments.” He pursed his lips. “I’ll see if one or more of them might be interested. Marilyn’s husband has a good job, which gives her some security. Maybe she’ll do it. She certainly knows how to run the place. The only problem would be the loose threads....”
“What loose threads?”
“The money could be traced to wherever I go next.” He sat back and stretched out his legs. “And this is it, Eve. Wherever I go, this is the last time. I can’t start over again.”
The fatalistic note in his voice concerned her. “There’s got to be some way to make the arrangements.”
“I’ll check it out, see what I can do. But...I don’t want to leave anyone vulnerable. Come take a look at this.”
Nervous about what she might see, she edged around the table as he fiddled with a video on his computer. When it started, she realized immediately what it was. The Crew, trashing his house. Those few minutes had been recorded by security cameras. One hooded intruder even spun around to a camera, giving it the finger and then took a baseball bat to the walls and windows.
It was one thing to hear about what had happened, quite another to see it. “They’re filled with hate,” she murmured.
“Only my death will satisfy them.”
She couldn’t watch anymore. These images made her sick. She turned away, but he caught her hand and gave her an imploring look.
“What?” she said.
“Aren’t you going to tell me?” he asked.
She knew that he was talking about whether or not she was pregnant. She hadn’t let herself think about the baby. The realization of how much her life would change, and what those changes would involve, crept into her mind in the quiet moments—like before she fell asleep. She couldn’t ward them off forever. Sometimes she’d feel a trickle of excitement, sometimes a trickle of unease. But there was no going back now. She had to take one day at a time, and right now she was falling i
n love with the father of her baby, despite the fact that he was a man she couldn’t have.
Even if they could figure out a way to be together, he might not be able to love her as deeply as she wanted. She had to face the possibility that he’d been through too much, was too damaged.
There had to be someone less complicated out there. Someone who could help her build a good life without the serious challenges Rex faced.
Maybe, but her heart argued with her constantly, always taking his side.
“Are you sure you want to know?” she asked.
His eyes probed hers, searching for the answer. “It’ll be easier to move on if I’m not aware of everything I’m leaving behind.”
“Of course.”
“But you would’ve told me if you weren’t.”
She bit her lip. “Are you upset?”
Her question served as confirmation, of course. If she wasn’t pregnant, what would he have to be upset about?
Dropping his head into his hands, he began to massage his temples.
“Rex?”
“I’ll cover the cost of the delivery—the doctor and the hospital and whatever else you need. And I’ll send you money every month.”
Eve lifted her hand. “I don’t want you to do it because you feel obligated.”
“That’s not it. I want to participate in some way.”
“Why?”
“I will not leave it all on you,” he replied. Then he lowered his voice. “And I want to be a better father than I’ve been a son.”
He needed to succeed at something besides business. Eve understood that. Maybe being a father would help him heal, help him understand how a parent could still love a child who made mistakes, even serious ones.
“Okay,” she said, and bent to kiss his head.
* * *
Ted came over while Eve was making breakfast. She hesitated when she saw him at the door, wasn’t sure whether he’d be civil to Rex, but ultimately let him in. She couldn’t turn away one of her best friends. He’d just spent several days, and probably a couple thousand dollars, tracing down Harriett Hatfield’s descendants for the benefit of her B and B and the other historical buildings in town.
