by Ann Yost
Table of Contents
Excerpt
About A Baby
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Thank you for purchasing this publication of The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
She was bent over a treatment table,
obviously deep in concentration. The curls, light brown and shot with golden highlights, as always, seemed to have a life of their own. He couldn’t see her soft lips, but he knew they’d be slightly parted, her teeth unconsciously grazing her tongue. He inhaled her unique scent, a mixture of peaches and vanilla and summer flowers.
He wanted to come up behind her, to press his lips against her soft neck, to rub his raging erection against her round bottom.
Hallie.
He didn’t realize he’d spoken her name out loud until she turned. “Baz. What’re you doing here?”
The husky words triggered another surge of lust. He fisted his hands to keep from touching her. “I wanted to talk to you.” His voice was husky, too.
She turned back to the table. “Not a good time. I’m working.”
He moved closer and peered at the creature under her gloved hands. “That’s a bat.”
“He broke a bone in his wing. I’ve splinted and taped it.”
“You’re treating a rodent?”
“The family lives in my attic. He must have flown into something in the dark.”
“Bats are supposed to be able to see at night.”
“Maybe he didn’t read the fine print in his contract.”
He smiled. He’d forgotten her delicious humor.
He placed his hands on either side of her rib cage.
“Don’t,” she said, as if she meant it.
Baz stilled. She was still mad.
About A Baby
by
Ann Yost
The Outlaws of Eden, Maine
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.
About A Baby
COPYRIGHT © 2016 by Ann Yost
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author or The Wild Rose Press, Inc. except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
Contact Information: [email protected]
Cover Art by RJ Morris
The Wild Rose Press, Inc.
PO Box 708
Adams Basin, NY 14410-0708
Visit us at www.thewildrosepress.com
Publishing History
First Champagne Rose Edition, 2010
Second Champagne Rose Edition, 2016
Print ISBN 978-1-5092-
Digital ISBN 978-1-5092-
The Outlaws of Eden, Maine
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my own babies,
Adam, Ben, and Emily,
who grew up perfectly in spite of me.
Chapter One
Basil Outlaw stopped at Eden’s only traffic light and watched last minute shoppers hurry along the sidewalks of Main Street, heads bent against the falling snow. Shop fronts were outlined in white twinkle lights. Evergreen wreaths with red ribbons, a fund-raiser for the Eden High Band, decorated most front doors.
The Presbyterian and Methodist churches, each constructed with Maine’s indigenous pearl-gray fieldstone, still faced one another kitty-corner on Main and Cedar Streets like a couple of teenage boys marking their territory. Callaghan’s Market still anchored the small business district.
Nothing much had changed since he left twenty years ago, but he wasn’t here to see the little town or even his family. He was here to make restitution to the sunny, glass-is-half-full, golden-eyed woman whose hopes he’d crushed one year ago tonight.
It was Christmas Eve, the perfect time for making things right. Just ask Ebenezer Scrooge.
Of course the old guy had been able to do it with some coins, a goose, and a trio of bad dreams. It would cost Baz a whole lot more to re-capture the trust of Hallie Scott. He felt a familiar emptiness in his chest as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel of the rented Malibu.
He was ready to give her exactly what she wanted: marriage and a baby. He just hoped he wasn’t too late.
****
Tiny ice crystals melted on Dr. Halliday Scott’s red wool coat as she dawdled along the path between her snug apartment above the Outlaw Veterinary Clinic and the Outlaw family’s massive stone house.
She wanted to savor the magical night.
In just a few minutes, all but one of the Outlaw family members would gather around a festive table to enjoy their traditional Christmas Eve supper of clam chowder. It was only because of Basil Outlaw’s absence that Hallie had a place in the Outlaw family circle. The man who had filled her heart and crushed her dreams a year earlier was the means of giving her the best Christmas of her life. Just one of life’s little ironies.
She sucked in the winter air and took a moment to compose herself. The disappointment that lived inside her would never completely go away, but she’d learned how to work around that. She was happy in Eden. She caught a snowflake on her tongue and mounted the back porch steps to the brightly lit house.
The door swung open, and a familiar wail nearly eclipsed a frantic masculine voice. “Thank God you’re here.” Cameron Outlaw grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her into the kitchen. “We have a crisis.”
Hallie couldn’t help smiling at Baz’s brother. Surely, the crisis centered on Cam’s small, determined daughter, Daisy. She was right.
Another high-pitched squeal and a miniature battering ram hit her at the same time. Hallie caught the distraught five-year-old up in her arms.
“I’m not gonna be in the pageant!”
“What’s the problem, kitten?”
Tears streamed out of baby blue eyes and rolled down chubby pink cheeks.
“They can’t make me do it. I’m not gonna be a stupid shepherd.”
Hallie looked at Cam who shrugged helplessly.
“She’s not supposed to be a shepherd,” Hallie reminded him. “I talked with the choir director. It was all arranged.”
Cam arched a dark eyebrow. Hallie noticed, not for the first time, how much he resembled his tall, dark-haired, broad-shouldered brother. And how little. Basil’s rugged face was an unfocused version of Cam’s well-defined features. The elder brother carried more muscle on his large form and his hard, cold, gunmetal gray eyes contrasted with Cam’s sparkling blue gaze. Cam’s openness, outgoing nature, and commitment to family and community underscored Baz’s isolation. The latter truly was an island. It had started with the parents’ bitter divorce that split the family all those years ago.
Cam’s deep voice jerked her back to the present. “The choir director said she was sorry, but somebody’s cousin came in from out of town and Daisy’s costume was given to her by mistake.”
“Get it back,” squawked Daisy from her perch in Hallie’s arms. “I pra
cticed being a angel. I want to be a angel!”
“What costume did they have left?” Hallie asked.
“Shepherd,” howled Daisy, throwing her head back like a dog baying at the moon. “Dirty, brown shepherd. It’s a boy costume.”
Hallie swallowed a smile. Even if she could have retrieved the angel costume, Daisy needed to learn to compromise. Her doting father and extended family indulged her on every point, and the little girl had become a tyrant. But she was an intelligent tyrant.
Hallie tried logic. “Is it a boy job to be an animal doctor?”
“You mean a vet?” Daisy quieted for a moment.
Hallie had caught her attention. “Yes. Can only boys be vets?”
Daisy’s eyes widened. “No. You’re not a boy.”
“That’s right. And not all shepherds are boys.
Shepherds take care of animals, just like vets do. In fact,” said Hallie, warming to her theme, “I bet you could take Wilbur with you.” She glanced at the pot- bellied pig lolling on his Miss Piggy pillow. “He can play a lamb who has come to see Baby Jesus.”
“Couldn’t I take Wilbur if I was a angel?” Hallie bit back a smile. A person had to be on her toes to outwit Daisy Outlaw. “No. Sheep need a shepherd to take care of them. Angels have a different job.”
The little girl appeared to weigh the advantages of taking her beloved pet versus the disappointment of the drab costume. “Okay,” she said, at last. Hallie breathed a sigh of relief and let Daisy slide to the ground. The child tugged her hand.
“Come on, Hallie. Let’s get Wilbur ready.”
“Not so fast, princess,” said her father. “Eat some supper first. Then we’ll give Wilbur the bad news. I don’t know how much he’ll like hoofing it to the church in ten-degree weather. Besides, his show will be on soon.” Wilbur was devoted to cable cooking shows. His favorites were reruns from The Galloping Gourmet. On the screen, the dish of the night was a bacon and spinach quiche. Bacon. Hallie grinned.
Maybe Wilbur wouldn’t mind missing this particular show.
Cam’s eyes found Hallie. “Think Wilbur will behave?”
“As well as the golden retriever playing a camel.”
Cam hugged her.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.” The familiar voice struck Hallie’s nerves like a sledgehammer hitting a china teacup. Its deep, rough timbre stripped her of a year’s worth of hard-won peace. She blinked back tears as pain, sharp and unexpected, ripped through her.
The snake had invaded paradise.
Despite his promises, Baz had returned to Eden.
Hallie forced herself to remain calm as she turned to look into fog-colored eyes. As always, his gaze acted on her like a match to dry tinder. In the past, he’d kindled desire. Now that longing was diluted by pain and anger. And fear. What the heck was he doing here? Maybe if she closed her eyes he’d disappear. She tried it.
He didn’t.
Instead, his hard gaze skewered her like a fish on the end of a spear. She noticed new lines radiating out from his eyes, and her heart twisted.
He looked older, she thought, tired and more remote than ever, though, unfortunately, no less devastating. Had he missed her? She rejected the idea immediately. She’d never forget the pea-green color of his face when she’d proposed. He wasn’t here about that.
A good thing, too, because it was too late. Much too late.
Her fingers itched to touch him, though. She wanted to smooth the severe planes and ridges of his dark face. She jammed her hands in the pockets of her forest green corduroy dress and ground her teeth.
Twelve months, thousands of miles, and a new life, and yet nothing had changed.
No, that was wrong. Everything had changed.
Cam stepped between them like a boxing referee. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you, Hal. Dad invited Baz for Christmas.” He spoke as though a visit from his brother was a routine occurrence instead of what it really was: the return of the Prodigal Son.
The question was, why had he come back?
She’d like to believe it had nothing to do with her, but the prickles on the back of her neck and the hollow in the pit of her stomach said otherwise.
Regardless of his agenda, his presence here would disrupt her calm, pleasant life. It already had.
Her Christmas spirit turned as dry and brittle as a discarded Christmas tree. She flashed on the Charlie Brown tree she’d decorated for him last year.
Afterwards they made love on the thick gray carpet in his condo. And then she’d asked the fatal question.
“Aren’t you glad to see me, Halliday?”
The deep voice resonated in her lower body as it was meant to, and she lowered her lashes trying to mask both her involuntary arousal and her sudden, violent anger.
He’d promised to stay away.
Her eyes narrowed on him. It was another Christmas Eve. Was he planning to cut her legs out from under her again? She had to remind herself that, when all was said and done, this was his home, not hers. She’d taken a terrible risk coming to Eden.
If it came to a showdown, his family would pick Baz.
She had no choice but to suck it up.
“Welcome, home,” she said, tightly. “Merry Christmas.”
His eyes met hers; she read the apology in them.
Okay, so he hadn’t shown up just to hurt her. It wouldn’t matter in the end. Not if he decided to stick around. Suddenly, she had to know. “How long are you staying?”
Something flickered in the slate-colored eyes. “That depends. I have some unfinished business to attend to. You look thinner. Have you been ill?”
She’d looked just fine a few minutes ago. “No.
But thanks for asking.”
She watched a muscle work in his jaw. It should have given her some satisfaction, but it didn’t. Hallie didn’t like being cruel. Not even when someone deserved it.
The doorbell echoed in the big front hall. A moment later the rest of the family burst into the room amid boisterous laughter. Hallie’s stomach tightened.
It was Norman Rockwell time.
****
Ezra Cobbs, with his thick white hair and his kind, crinkly eyes, looked every inch the caring country pastor. If he had a failing it was his sermons. They were relentlessly uninspiring.
Tonight he managed to make even the Christmas Story tedious.
Hallie focused on the candles reflected in the arched windows and the magic of the evening service. Wilbur was drugged on sugar cookies. She heard his faint snore in between Pastor Cobbs’s words. The golden retriever, after bestowing a tongue bath on the plastic baby Jesus, had curled up next to the manger.
Hallie gazed out at the pews from her seat in the small choir loft behind the pulpit. Over the past year, she’d come to see the familiar faces with a sense of security. Eden had begun to feel like the home she’d always wanted.
Jolene Thompson, owner of the Pink Poodle Beauty Salon, sat next to Hallie in the choir stall. Jo was one of Hallie’s two close friends. She spoke under cover of the rambling sermon. “Why’s the Prodigal Hunk here?”
“Beats me,” Hallie whispered back.
“He can’t stop looking at you.”
She knew. His intense stare was having its usual effect on her even in church. She was so short of breath she’d had to mouth the words to “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel.”
Her friend frowned. “I’ll bet you a blimpy burger he’s here to get you back.”
Most of the bets in Rockfield County involved mouth-watering blimpy burgers from Little Joe’s Café on High Street.
“I wish he’d just crawl back to where he came from.”
“He came from here,” Jo reminded her.
Hallie made a face.
“It took a year but maybe he finally realized he missed you.”
Hallie dismissed that possibility. “He never called or wrote. Why would he just turn up on Christmas Eve? That doesn’t make sense.”
Jo shrugged. “Who can un
derstand men?”
“Not me. That’s why I work with animals.”
Pastor Cobbs nodded at the octogenarian organist who launched into “Angels We Have Heard on High.” As usual she chose the key of C. The old lady was a purist and didn’t believe in sharps and flats.
Hallie stood with the rest of her friends and neighbors. She tried to lose herself in the music, but the heat of Baz’s stare seemed to melt her core. She shot him a glance. He was pretending to sing, too. She’d have laughed if she hadn’t felt so nauseous. She wanted to shout at him. Why are you here?
Hallie glanced at Baz’s father. Dr. Jesse Outlaw’s grin outshone all the candles in the little church. The man was thrilled to have his eldest son home at last. Hallie swallowed around a lump in her throat. She couldn’t begrudge her boss his happiness. She reminded herself that Baz’s visit wouldn’t last more than a few days. Seventy-two hours at the most. Surely she could tough that out.
“He’s still looking at you,” Jolene whispered, as Pastor Cobbs began his long, long benediction.
“Yeah.”
Hallie wished she could ignore her instincts. She just knew Baz’s agenda had something to do with her.
“Maybe it’s just a family reunion,” Jolene whispered. “After all, it’s Christmastime.”
Hallie smiled at her friend. Jolene was right.
She could be worrying over nothing. The organist’s fingers struck a series of white notes and the congregation began to sing. Hallie felt the warmth of Baz’s intense focus. Against her will, her eyes found his. When he winked her stomach somersaulted.
Joy to the World.
****
It was after nine when Daisy finally agreed to let Hallie tuck her into the four-poster white bed with the Petunia Pig comforter.
“Remember who’s coming tonight,” Hallie whispered.
“Uncle Baz?”
Hallie wrinkled her nose then tried to turn the sour expression into a smile. The man-who-never wanted-to-be-a-dad had already made a warm impression on his niece.
“I was talking about Santa. Sweet dreams, Sugar Plum. See you in the morning.”
Hallie had already declined an invitation to join the family by the massive stone fireplace in the old-fashioned parlor. She slipped down the back staircase, grabbed her coat, and crossed the snow-covered yard to her apartment. This time she ignored the fluffy flakes. Her mind was intent on two questions: how soon would Basil Outlaw leave Eden and could she hang on until he did?
