She moved around to where the footholds were and tapped the lowest one with the toe of the Castleton cowboy boots she’d purchased while killing time in Red Rock. Since her whereabouts weren’t remotely a secret, she’d also visited Charlene’s boutique with her credit card, and stocked up on clothing, including a black silk dress for the Cantina’s grand opening. She’d also had lunch with her cousin Wyatt and his wife, Sarah-Jane. And even though Amelia had found Red Rock surprisingly sophisticated and quite lovely, she knew she still preferred the rugged, much smaller Horseback Hollow.
“Fancy boots. You buy them before or after meeting up with that Red Rock lawyer?”
She looked from the detailed stitching over her toe up into the leaves and met Quinn’s hazel gaze. “As usual, news is traveling at the speed of light.” She ran her palm over the rough tree bark. “Can you come down?”
He swung down from the floor he was constructing and climbed down several footholds before jumping the rest of the way to the ground. He straightened and looked down at her, his expression unreadable. “You going to tell me anything I want to know?”
“I don’t know,” she said huskily and handed him the folder. “Considering everything that happened last week, you might not welcome anything to do with me.”
His lips thinned and he made no attempt to open the folder. “A hundred reporters camped out on my front porch wouldn’t change the fact that you’re pregnant with my baby.”
“They didn’t cause you any more problems, did they?” She tucked her hands in the front pockets of the narrow, black trousers she’d bought at the boutique. There’d been a small selection of delightful maternity clothes, though she hadn’t had the nerve to purchase any. Not with the other customers there who’d watched her, somewhat agog, as she’d shopped.
“Guess you’d have seen it on the news if they had.” His tone was flat. He gestured with the folder. “You bring this here to settle the fact I can’t prevent you from going back to England? Already found that out myself from three different attorneys over in Lubbock.”
A pang drove through her. “If that’s what you think, you really don’t know me at all.”
“Saw your earl’s press conference.”
“Evidently not,” she countered, “if you still have the impression that James is my anything.”
“‘Amelia Fortune Chesterfield’s support during this difficult time has been steadfast,’” Quinn said, quoting almost verbatim the brief statement that James’s staff had released. “‘And though we are not betrothed,’” his lips twisted, “‘we remain loyal friends.’ Didn’t exactly say you were never engaged to marry him in the first place.”
“People in James’s positions don’t explain,” she said. “They don’t complain to the media and they never lend credence to speculation by commenting on anything that smacks of scandal. Which is not to say they won’t use the media if it serves their purposes. James’s father certainly proved that.” She exhaled. “I didn’t come here to talk about him.” She nodded toward the folder. “I came here to give you that.”
Looking even more grim, he flipped open the folder.
His eyes narrowed as he read, his frown coming and going as he flipped slowly through the pages.
“It’s a shared custody agreement.” Of course he could read for himself what it was, but his silence was more than she could bear. “With stipulations that the baby will bear your name and be raised here in Horseback Hollow.”
He finally looked at her. “Why would you do this?”
She lifted her chin. “Why wouldn’t I? I’ve told you more than once I don’t want that life.” She unconsciously pressed her hand to her abdomen. “I didn’t want it for myself and I don’t want it for our child. I don’t know how else to prove it to you.”
“You’ve already signed it.”
“Yes. Duly witnessed by the appropriate individuals.” She pressed her tongue to the back of her teeth, hunting for strength. “Go back to your Lubbock attorneys and have them review it. They’ll tell you it’s exceedingly fair. And once you sign it, there’ll be no need for a justice of the peace or a minister.”
His jaw canted to one side. He closed the folder and tapped it against the side of his jean-clad thigh. “You really don’t want to marry me.”
“No.” She suddenly jabbed her forefinger into his unyielding chest. “You really don’t want to marry me. You’re stuck in the past with the one who did betray you. The only reason you want to marry me is to ensure the baby has your name.” She gestured at the folder. “Well, happy tidings. Sign it and neither one of us need worry about that a moment longer.”
“I don’t have a pen.”
She felt like her heart was turning to dust inside her chest. She looked up into the leaves above their heads.
He’d build a magical place for their child.
But he wouldn’t let himself believe in love.
At least not love with her.
“I’m sure you’ll find one somewhere,” she managed. “You can send me a copy of the agreement once you do.”
“And then?”
“And then I guess we’ll figure out what to do next.” She lifted her hands, feeling helpless. “At least things can’t possibly get any worse.”
Then she turned on her boot heel and walked away.
Chapter Thirteen
But Amelia was wrong.
Things could get worse.
And they did.
“She is pregnant?” Jess’s screech could have been heard around the world.
It was certainly enough to wake Quinn from his stupor where he was sprawled on his couch, and he bolted upright, rubbing his hands down his face as his sister stormed into his house brandishing a magazine over her head.
“What?”
She slapped the glossy tabloid on top of Amelia’s custody papers that were sitting on the coffee table and picked up the bottle of whiskey he’d tried working his way through the day after Amelia had left him. “Oh, my God.” She was clearly disgusted. “You’re drunk.”
“No. I was drunk.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Now the term would be hungover. So if you’d take your hysterics and leave me the hell alone, I’d appreciate it. And give me back your key to my front door while you’re at it.”
She sat down on the coffee table in front of him and caught his chin in her hand, giving him a look that was unreasonably similar to their mother’s. “You’re a grown man who’s going to be a father,” she tsked. “Start acting like it!”
He brushed her hand aside. The fact that she knew about Amelia’s pregnancy was seeping into his throbbing brain. “How’d you find out?”
She shifted and tugged the magazine from under her hip and waved it in front of his face. “Same way everyone on the planet did.”
He snatched it from her and stared at the cover of the international tabloid. It contained only a single photograph of a positive pregnancy test stick, with a question mark and the words The Real Cause Behind the End of Jamelia? superimposed over the top.
Disgusted, he threw it aside and shoved off the couch. “Why the hell won’t everyone just leave her alone!”
Jess narrowed her eyes and studied him. “It’s true, then. Amelia is pregnant.”
“Whatever happened to people’s right to privacy?”
“Privacy’s an illusion,” Jess said. “I think somebody famous said that. Or the government did. Or—” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I’m asking you, Quinn. Is that story true?”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t read the damn story.”
She made a face and straightened. She tilted her head slightly, studying him. “Quinn.”
“Yes,” he said grudgingly.
“Is it yours?” She quickly lifted her hands peaceably when he glar
ed at her. “I’m just asking!”
“It’s mine.”
“How do you know? I mean, a week and a half ago, she was supposedly engaged to marry Lord Banning.”
“She wouldn’t lie to me.” His head was clanging and he headed blindly into the kitchen. There was still coffee in the pot from the day before and he dumped it in a mug and drank it cold and stale. Amelia wouldn’t lie, yet how many times had he accused her of it, anyway?
Jess had followed him into the kitchen. Her eyes were concerned. “What are you going to do?”
“Not much I can do,” he said wearily. “She won’t marry me.”
His sister’s eyebrows disappeared up her forehead. “You, Mr. Never-Get-Married-Again, proposed?”
“She refused.” More than once and the memory of each time felt engraved on his throbbing brain. He turned on the faucet and stuck his head under the cold water.
When he came up for air, Jess stuck a dish towel in his hand. “Did you tell her you loved her?”
He jerked. “This isn’t above love.”
“Oh, Quinn.” Jess shook her head, looking disgusted all over again. “When it comes to a woman, particularly a pregnant woman, everything is always about love.”
“Maybe for you.” He ran the towel over his face and tossed it aside. “And Mac.” His brother-in-law had grown up in Vicker’s Corners. “You two’ve been together since high school. You’re the same. Hell, you even teach together at the same school!”
“So? Carrie and you had the same backgrounds, too, and that wasn’t exactly a stellar success!”
“There’s no comparison between Carrie and Amelia.” His voice was abrupt. Carrie had never made him feel half the emotion that Amelia did.
She gave him a look. “Well, duh. It’s about time you realized it.”
He shoved his fingers through his hair, slicking the wet strands back from his face. He hadn’t been talking about the other similarities, despite what his sister obviously thought. “Where’d you see the tabloid?”
“It’s front and center on the racks in the Superette.”
He exhaled. “This’ll send her off the rails.” He reached for his Resistol and headed for the door, but his sister grabbed the back of his shirt.
“Hold on there, Romeo,” she drawled. “Might want to at least brush your teeth before you go after the fair maiden.”
He yanked away. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“Yeah.” She patted his cheek like he was ten. “But nobody loves you like I do. And I kinda fancy the idea of getting some blue blood in our family gene pool.” Then she shoved his shoulders, pushing him toward the living room. “And clean clothes wouldn’t go amiss, either.”
The fact that she was right annoyed the life out of him. He headed toward the steps. “I don’t know how Mac puts up with you.”
“He loves me,” she assured blithely and patted her flat belly. “Which is why we’re trying for a girl again.” Her eyes were revoltingly merry. “According to that tabloid, your baby and mine will be born right around the same time next January.”
Quinn squinted. “You’re pregnant, too? Again?”
Jess smiled. “Isn’t life grand?”
* * *
Amelia stared at the cover of the magazine that her mother had presented the second she’d walked into Aunt Jeanne’s house.
The pregnancy stick in the picture was not the same brand Amelia had used either time, but some portion of her mind knew that it didn’t really matter.
The message was still the same.
“Well?” Josephine propped her hands on her slender hips and raised her eyebrows. She’d arrived a full day earlier than expected because of the dreadful magazine, and her blue eyes were steely. “Is it true?”
Amelia rubbed her palms down the thighs of her cropped slacks and nodded. Then she gestured at the cover. “I don’t know how they found out. Were you contacted for a comment?”
Her mother just gave her a look. “As if we would have offered one to such a disreputable publication? My senior social secretary gave me a copy when no one else on my staff seemed to have the nerve to show it to me.” She sighed and sat down on the couch next to her. They were alone in the house only because Jeanne Marie and Deke had gone to see Toby and his crew for a while. “We’ll have to release something officially at some point, but I wanted to see you for myself, first. Darling, why didn’t you tell me?”
Amelia’s throat tightened. “I was going to. I just wanted to clean up some of the mess I made after the whole Jamelia business exploded.”
Her mother closed her cool hands around Amelia’s and squeezed gently. “Are you feeling all right? I hate knowing you’ve been dealing with this all on your own.”
“It’s about time I finally dealt with something on my own,” she murmured thickly. She met her mother’s eyes. “I’m sorry I’ve done such a poor job of it.”
“Amelia.” Josephine sighed. “I love you. The only thing I am concerned about is that you’re happy. I knew you weren’t happy in London even before this ridiculous betrothal business with James came about.” She tucked Amelia’s hair behind her ear the same way she’d been doing since Amelia was a tot. “Had you confided in me, perhaps we could have prevented some of this outrageous publicity.”
Amelia chewed the inside of her cheek. “Molly knew,” she whispered. “She’s the only one other than Quinn who knew I was pregnant.”
Josephine’s expression cooled. “My Molly?”
Amelia nodded miserably. “I don’t want to believe she would have said something, but who else was there?” James hadn’t known she was returning to Horseback Hollow, much less that she was pregnant with Quinn’s baby, so the information couldn’t have come from his quarter.
“And your Quinn,” Josephine said gently. “He wouldn’t have—”
“No.” Amelia shook her head, adamant. He might have threatened that one time to out her pregnancy during Jeanne Marie’s and Deke’s family dinner, but he never would have gone beyond that. Certainly not to the very type of strangers he’d threatened off the Rocking-U. She reached for the hateful tabloid and flipped it open to the main article that turned out to be only a few paragraphs, accompanied by two pages of photographs obviously meant to chronicle the rise and fall of her and James’s supposed romance.
There were also a startling number of images of Quinn that had to have taken some effort to collect. One was even of him as a solemn boy, standing next to an easily recognizable Jess and a woman she could only assume was their mother, given the casket they were looking at. She trailed her fingertip over his young face then made herself look at the text.
“‘Sources close to Amelia Fortune Chesterfield and her baby daddy, Horseback Hollow Homewrecker Quinn Drummond, confirm that the stick turned a big, positive blue,’” she read aloud. Then she made a face and flipped the magazine closed, tossing it aside. “Ophelia Malone finally gets her big payday,” she muttered. “And Quinn didn’t do a thing to deserve her trashy comments.”
“I’ll have to deal with Molly.” Josephine rose and paced around the parlor. Her silver hair was immaculately coiffed and despite her day of travel, she looked impeccable in a black and white pantsuit. “I’ll have Jensen look into her finances.” She referred to Amelia’s third-eldest brother. “If there’s proof she was compensated, we can take her to court since it’s a violation of her confidentiality agreement. Jensen knows how to be discreet.”
“Whereas I don’t.”
Her mother sent her an exasperated look. “Stop reading between the lines, Amelia. I wasn’t implying any such thing.”
“I want it all to go away.” She twisted her hands together. “You always said if we ignored rumors and gossip, they’ll die of starvation.”
“Well, that used to be truer than it is n
owadays. People don’t depend on news to come from reputable newspapers and the nightly news.” She sighed. “It’s become quite exhausting in the past few years.” She brushed her hand down her silk sleeve. “Either that, or I’m just getting too old to want to put up with it.”
“You’re not old, Mum.”
Josephine’s lips twisted a little. “I’m sixty-two, darling. I’ve divorced one husband and buried another. Now I’m going to be a grandmamma again, and maybe I would like to slow down my schedule and enjoy that more this time around than I was able to do with Oliver Junior.”
She sat down beside Amelia again and hugged her arm around her shoulders. “I don’t want you worrying about Molly. She’s my secretary and I’ll see that matter is handled appropriately. In the meantime, you can tell me more about your Mr. Drummond.”
Amelia’s nose burned. “Quinn is anything but my Mr. Drummond,” she said thickly.
“Do you love him?”
Amelia nodded. “I knew he was special the first time I saw him. When we were here for Sawyer’s wedding. Remember?”
“I remember.”
“I couldn’t get him out of my head. When I came for Toby’s wedding, I made the excuse that I just wanted some space from James pressuring me about marrying, but I had to see Quinn again.”
Her mother smiled softly. She rested her head against Amelia’s. “I felt the same way the first time I saw your father.”
Tears collected and squeezed out her eyes. “He’d be so ashamed of me,” Amelia whispered.
Josephine tsked. “He’d have been ready to put Quinn’s head on a spike,” she allowed, gently teasing. “Because you were his baby girl. But then he’d have come to his senses, the way Simon always did, and start campaigning for the baby to be named after him.”
Amelia smiled through her tears. “Yes.” She wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck. “Yes, he would have. I love you, Mum.”
“I love you too, darling.” Josephine squeezed her back. “And everything is going to be all right. You’ll see.”
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