The Bachelor's Baby

by Mia Ross

  Brian shifted in his seat, a sure sign that she was making him uncomfortable. Considering how she’d treated him in the past, she felt awful for putting him in the awkward position of being her rescuer. That had been okay when they were younger, but she was a grown woman now, and a mother-to-be besides. No matter how many curve balls life threw at her, she’d have to maneuver her way through them.

  Alone.

  Forcing herself to look over at him, she gathered up her courage. “I’m sorry, Brian. This is my problem, not yours. I’ll figure it out.”

  Being let off the hook seemed to ease his tension, and he visibly relaxed. “For now, we’re gonna get you something to eat. I’m sure Gran has something over at the bakery that’ll warm you up.”

  Ellie Calhoun was one of Lindsay’s few fond memories of this place, and just hearing the woman’s name made her smile. “That sounds great.”

  Brian nodded and headed down Main Street toward the tiny business district. She suspected that it had been pretty much the same since the day the founding Calhoun brothers opened their blacksmith shop next to the winding creek that gave the town its name. The stores were small, but each had a large front window that displayed what was sold inside. There was an old-fashioned confectionary, a bookstore that advertised gourmet coffee and a high-speed internet connection, even a small-town barbershop whose striped pole spun in the wind.

  Everything was still the way she remembered it, she mused as Brian parked beside Ellie’s Bakery and Bike Rentals. That might be a good thing. But considering the way her day had gone so far, she doubted it.

  * * *

  “Lindsay!” When Brian walked her through the glass-front door, his grandmother hurried out from behind the counter to embrace her. Artfully dodging the obvious change in their visitor, she beamed at Lindsay as if she’d been waiting for her all day instead of being surprised to find her there. “It’s wonderful to see you. How have you been?”

  “Good, and you?”

  Gran laughed. “Oh, you know how it is around here. There’s always something interesting going on, and I just try to keep up.” She turned to Brian with an accusing look. “Why didn’t you tell me Lindsay was coming into town?”

  “It was a surprise to me, too,” he answered, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I know it’s a little early for customers, but what’s the chance of us getting some lunch?”

  “For my boy? A hundred percent. Since it’s so cold, I’ve got a batch of stew simmering, and I’m just pulling fresh bread out of the oven. You two sit down and I’ll bring you some.”

  “I knew I smelled something amazing,” Lindsay commented while she shed her coat.

  Suddenly recalling his manners, Brian took it from her and hung it on the rack near the door. Adding his own, he joined her at the table she’d chosen. As far from the front windows as she could get, he noticed. She was either keeping away from the chill near the door or trying to avoid being seen. Considering her condition, he guessed that it was probably some of both.

  “I forgot how cold it gets here in the winter,” she said, rubbing her bare hands together to warm them. “Once I find myself a job, I’ll have to buy a pair of gloves.”

  “You’ve got some money now,” he reminded her.

  “I’ll need that to pay for a room. Assuming I can find one.”

  Brian waited for the cheeky grin he remembered to tell him that she was exaggerating. When it didn’t appear, he felt a pang of sorrow for this beautiful, lost woman who’d found herself at the end of her rope and somehow landed on his doorstep. He still wasn’t sure how that had happened, but in view of their rocky history he was grateful that despite the obstacles she’d had to overcome, she’d come back to where there were people who genuinely cared about her.

  And her baby, he reminded himself, still trying to adjust to the idea. He’d been on his own for years, so he was pretty good at taking care of himself. Someday he’d love to have a family, but right now the idea of assuming responsibility for anyone else scared him to death. Maybe once his business was solidly in the black, he could think about settling down. But these days, struggling to relaunch the ironworks was giving him all he could manage and more.

  “How are things going up at your end of town today?” Ellie asked, ruffling his hair.

  “Busy. How ’bout here?”

  “Oh, you know how it is when the weather’s so nasty. Folks just want to tuck in at home and stay warm until the snow stops. They’ll be out tomorrow, I’m sure.” Her optimism lifted his own spirits, and then she turned her attention to Lindsay. “I’m so proud of this one. He’s got so many orders, he won’t have time for much else once the forge is up and running.”

  She hurried back into the kitchen, and Lindsay gave him an accusing look. “I had no idea you had customers waiting for your stuff.”

  If only the contracts were for more than garden gates and fireplace screens, he thought morosely. But his corporate policy was to be positive around the family to avoid worrying them, so he shrugged. “Yeah, well, I hate to brag.”

  For the first time since she’d arrived, Lindsay let out an honest laugh. “Since when?”

  Since he’d lost three jobs in two years through no fault of his own. He was a skilled machinist, but the shops he’d worked for had been poorly managed, and when they needed to balance the books, he was always the new guy. It had been tough on his ego, and last summer he’d finally had enough of it. Reopening a nineteenth-century business might seem far-fetched to most people, but the effort to resurrect the historic Liberty Creek Forge hadn’t just given him something to do. It had gone a long way toward restoring his battered pride.

  Because teasing him had brightened her mood, he opted not to share his sob story and instead dredged up a grin. “Good point.”

  After staring at each other for what felt like a little too long, they fell into an uneasy silence. Then she said, “I see Ellie’s still in town. How about the rest of your family?”

  “Sam got married just before Christmas,” he replied, grateful for something else to talk about. “He and Holly live on the edge of town with her son, Chase, who’s just about the greatest kid ever. Emma teaches art at the elementary school and lives in our old house. Mom and Dad both work over in Waterford now, so they moved there a few years ago.”

  “Have you been here all this time?”

  “I moved around a bit, then settled in Portsmouth for a while before coming back. I wasn’t sure about it at first, but it’s really nice to be home.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” she commented as Gran approached their table carrying a loaded tray. “You never struck me as the nomad type.”

  Unlike her, Brian added silently. He wondered if that would change now that she had a child to consider.

  “Here you go, kids,” Gran announced, setting their lunch out for them.

  He’d skipped breakfast that morning, and the aroma of her blue-ribbon cooking actually made his mouth water. He tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into the steaming crock of stew before popping it in his mouth. Registering his grandmother’s questioning look, he chuckled. “You’ve been experimenting again, haven’t you?”

  “Maybe. Can you tell what’s different?”

  “Delicious as usual,” he replied because quite honestly, he couldn’t detect anything beyond that.

  She gave him a chiding look before turning to Lindsay, who smiled. “There’s a hint of cayenne pepper in here, right?”

  Gran pressed her hands together in delight. “That’s right! I’ve had a dozen people taste this, and you’re the first one to guess my secret ingredient.”

  “I didn’t think you liked spicy food,” Brian said, more than a little confused. Apparently, her pregnancy wasn’t the only thing about Lindsay Holland that was different. It made him wonder what else someone might discover if he tried hard enough to peel back some of those
self-protective layers she’d wrapped herself in. Of course, it wouldn’t be him, he amended quickly. She’d burned him once, and he wasn’t about to step into range and give her the chance to do it again.

  “The baby does,” she confided with a little grin. “Whenever I eat something hot, she does backflips.”

  “It’s a girl?” Gran asked.

  “I’m hoping so. I’d have no idea what to do with a boy.”

  “You’d figure it out, just like the rest of us. Having a child is wonderful, no matter who we’re mothering.”

  “Thank you for saying that. I think it’s wonderful, too, although I have to be honest. Not many people agree with me.”

  Gran waved that off as if it was no concern at all. “That’s their problem. Children are a blessing straight from heaven itself, and you’ve got every reason to be happy about this one. There’s a new couple at our church who’s been trying for years to have a baby but can’t. They’ve started the adoption process because they want a family so much, but they’re finding out that it takes a long time to be approved.”

  Something sparked in Lindsay’s eyes, and while she didn’t comment, Brian could see the wheels spinning in that quick mind that had always amazed him. Whatever it was, it passed as quickly as it had appeared. He still felt uneasy, because he had no clue what was going on with her.

  That thought led to another, more pressing one. “Gran, Lindsay’s looking for a place to stay. Do you know of anyone who’s got a room to rent here in town?”

  After thinking for a few moments, she shook her head. “But I’ve got a big house with plenty of guest rooms, Lindsay. You’re welcome to stay with me until you find something more permanent.”

  “I don’t want to impose on you,” Lindsay protested.

  “Please,” Gran scoffed. “The house echoes like the Grand Canyon, it’s so quiet. I’d love to have some company, even if it’s only for a little while.”

  “Well, okay,” Lindsay finally agreed, adding a grateful smile that would have softened a heart made of granite. “Thank you.”

  They finished the rest of their lunch in near silence, and Brian figured it was because they really had nothing left to say. More than once over the years, he’d wondered how it would be to see his blue-eyed gypsy again. Needless to say, this really wasn’t the way he’d pictured it.

  * * *

  She was finally warm.

  After a long, difficult day, Lindsay woke up tucked into one of Ellie’s comfy guest rooms, snuggled in blissfully soft sheets beneath a pile of what were surely handmade quilts. She had an entire queen-size bed to herself, and more fluffy pillows than she knew what to do with.

  It was dark outside the window, and she checked the old-fashioned alarm clock to find it was almost seven o’clock. And she was starving. Her lunch with Brian had tasted like cayenne-flavored sawdust, so she’d eaten only enough to satisfy his insistence that she should have something to eat. Turning on the bedside lamp, she found her shoes in the closet and stepped into them, only to discover that they were still soaking wet. Beside them was a worn pair of fleece-lined slippers that looked to be about her size, so she pulled them on instead. Padding across the richly colored wood floor, she eased the door open and strained her ears for a hint of the conversation going on below.

  “What do you want me to do, Gran?” Brian’s unmistakable baritone demanded in a hushed tone. “This is my business we’re talking about. I’ve put everything I’ve got into it, and then some. I’ve only got one shot at making this work, and I can’t hire someone I don’t have complete faith in.”

  “You need an office manager,” Ellie argued in the sensible New Englander way Lindsay recalled from her childhood, “and Lindsay just happens to be an experienced one who’s looking for a job. Do you think she’s capable of doing what you need done?”

  After a long pause, he grudgingly admitted, “Probably.”

  “If you’re not sure about that, you should call her last boss and ask what he thought of her. Then you can feel more confident about your choice, whatever you decide.”

  “I feel sorry for Lindsay, but I’m not hiring her, end of story.” The sound of chair legs scraping across the kitchen floor reached upstairs, and she heard something in his voice she hadn’t expected: regret. “That storm’s getting worse, and the snow is piling up out there. I’ll be back in the morning to shovel the driveway and front walk for you before you go into the bakery at eight.”

  “Thank you, honey. I appreciate you taking care of it. Don’t work too late tonight.”

  “I won’t.”

  The door opened and then closed, and then all was quiet.

  Lindsay’s appetite had evaporated during the terse conversation she’d overheard, and she crept back to bed. Despite his earlier refusal to hire her, she’d sensed that he wasn’t completely convinced about it. That had left her with a tiny sliver of hope that he might change his mind, especially when she heard Ellie gently nudging him to reconsider. His comment about not being able to trust her made her more ashamed than she’d ever been, and she buried herself under the covers while tears that she’d held in for days finally escaped.

  Working for Brian had been her last—and only—chance at some security for herself and her unborn child. Now that door was firmly closed, and she searched her mind for the window that the old saying insisted would be opened.

  But this time, there wasn’t one.

  Chapter Three

  After a few hours of restless sleep, Brian finally gave up and decided it was time to start his day. The caretaker’s cottage next to the forge was pretty bare-bones, even for him, and he wasn’t surprised when he poked his head out from under the covers only to discover there was no heat. Again.

  He was good with most machinery, but the antique oil furnace bewildered him. No matter what fix he tried, it refused to fire up without some serious coaxing. Fortunately, the small fieldstone fireplace was more reliable. Too bad he’d forgotten to bank the fire before hitting the hay last night.

  Rather than waste time building another one, he settled for a steamy shower that not only warmed him up but also eased some of the lingering pain from yesterday. Every muscle in his body ached from wrestling with the archaic equipment he was trying to bring back from the dead, and he faced another long day of the same. His daunting rehab project had been going on for six months now, and sometimes he wondered if he was making any progress at all.

  Pushing the doubt from his mind, he strolled into the lobby and silently thanked whoever had invented a coffee maker that could fill up his mug in less than a minute. Wrapping his cold hands around the warm ceramic, he snagged a power bar and opened one of the huge doors to the old-fashioned blacksmith shop that was the heart and soul of his family’s once-thriving business. Repairs to the building itself had taken forever, from the roof to evicting a family of chipmunks that had taken up residence in the flue of the enormous fireplace that had literally forged the existence of Liberty Creek and other small towns for miles around.

  Since its opening, everything from wagon wheels to bucket hoops to cast-iron pots were produced here by Jeremiah Calhoun and his brothers, one piece at a time. Now that he was picking up the torch, Brian felt a kinship with them that gave him a tremendous sense of pride. He’d enjoyed the variety of living in other places, and when he first mentioned leaving the bustle of Portsmouth and returning to his sleepy hometown, most of his friends were convinced he’d gone and lost his mind. But as difficult as things could be for him at times, he never doubted that he’d made the right decision.

  Well, almost never.

  When his cell phone’s old-time telephone ringer sounded, he glanced at the screen to discover that the environmental inspector who’d been assigned to his project was calling. It was just after seven, and he suspected that the man wasn’t contacting him to share good news. Brian recalled hearing once that a smile
could be heard over the phone, so he forced one onto his face before answering. “Hello, Mr. Williams. What can I do for you?”

  “I’ve found a conflict with the appointment we made for the final inspection of your air scrubbing system at the end of the month. I apologize for the short notice, but there’s no way around it. I have an opening at nine on Thursday morning if you can do it then.”

  Brian had installed the equipment, but the complicated job had gobbled up all of his time for more than a week. That meant the mound of paperwork that he was supposed to fill out was still sitting on his desk, blank as the day the inspector had handed it to him. “That’s the day after tomorrow, so I’m not sure. Is there another option?”

  “May.”

  “Really?” Brian blurted without thinking. “That’s a long time to wait.”

  “There aren’t many people in the country who do what I do, so my calendar is booked solid until then. Should we schedule something in May?”

  The tourists that were the lifeblood of the local economy typically started visiting in late spring, and if something went wrong with an inspection in May, Brian wouldn’t be able to fix it in time to welcome customers to his shop. That would jeopardize not only his current plans, but might also dissuade Jordan from leaving his successful artisan career and joining the company. If that happened, Brian couldn’t possibly hope to meet the high expectations of the discerning clients he wanted to reach. Without the benefit of Jordan’s contacts and expertise, Brian knew that he might as well save himself the aggravation and close the doors now.

  “Thursday’s fine,” he gritted out, hoping his irritation wasn’t too obvious. “I’ll see you then.”

  He hung up, then closed his eyes and held the phone against his forehead. There were days when he wondered if the crazy scheme he’d concocted was worth the overwhelming effort he was putting into it. This was one of them, and to make it worse, setbacks like this made him doubt whether it was even possible for him to bring the long-dormant shop back to life.