Small-Town Girl (Mills & Boon Vintage Superromance) (Mills & Boon Superromance)

by Carmichael, C. J.

  “But—” He had no chance to argue further. Heather hung up the phone just as Julie breezed in the front door, Watson lagging.

  “I didn’t go as far as usual,” she explained. “Poor Watson is still pooped from the marathon you took him on last night.” She went to refill his water dish, and Russell volunteered to read Ben a story.

  He was trying to assimilate his conversation with Heather when Julie caught him in the kitchen, pouring a glass of water after Ben was asleep.

  “Oh, I’d like some, too, please.” She sat at the table, still dressed in shorts and a sports tank top, her jacket unzipped.

  Normally the sight of Julie in her running clothes was an absolute turn-on. Tonight he only wished she would take her bath and go to bed. Just looking at her brought on a crushing guilt. His brief conversation with Heather tonight hadn’t helped one bit.

  When he passed her the glass of water, she captured his hand and urged him to sit next to her. “Russell. We need to talk.”

  She’d guessed! But no, that was impossible.

  “Can we talk later? I haven’t been—that is, I know I’ve been acting strangely. But please don’t worry, Jule. I’ll sort things out.”

  “Sort what out?”

  Now he couldn’t even meet her eyes. He drank some water and almost gagged. “Give me a few days, okay? I was thinking I might go fishing this weekend.”

  “With Ben?”

  He’d talked about father-son fishing trips. “Not this time.”

  “Russell, you’re scaring me.”

  “I’m sorry. Don’t read too much into this. I promise everything will be okay.” There he went again, making assurances he sure as hell couldn’t keep.

  “Well, fine. We’ll talk after the weekend.” Her back stiff, she rose and headed for the bathroom. He heard the click as she locked the door behind her.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  RUSSELL WAS WRONG. Propped against her pillows in bed, Julie knew that they needed to talk. And now. Whatever had been eating at her husband these past few days would pale in comparison with her news, she was certain.

  She’d been trying to read for thirty minutes, when she finally realized her husband wasn’t going to come to bed until he thought she was asleep.

  She had to talk to him.

  So she turned out her light and waited.

  Another thirty minutes passed before Russell finally crept into the room in his boxer shorts. When he slid in on his side of the bed, she turned the light back on.

  “Julie? I thought you were sleeping.”

  Yeah, she just bet that he had. “We need to talk, Russell. Now. I don’t see what’s to gain by putting this off until after the weekend.”

  “Oh, hell.” He ran a hand through his hair, glanced at the radio alarm clock. “It’s after one in the morning. Can’t this at least wait until tomorrow?”

  When Ben was awake and they’d have to censor their every word?

  “Russell, I found out I’m—”

  “Julie, I don’t want to upset you—”

  Their sentences came out simultaneously, but still Julie heard what he’d said. I don’t want to upset you sounded ominous. She remembered the terrible feeling of foreboding she’d suffered last night. Was it possible Russell’s concerns were more serious than she’d expected?

  “What did you find out?” he asked.

  She waved his question off. She didn’t want to make her announcement until she knew what was going on here. “What are you keeping from me?”

  Suddenly she saw the events of the past few days from a totally new angle. Russell slipping out last evening for several hours, returning distraught and distant. Russell hanging up the phone quickly, with a guilty expression on his face as she came in from her walk with Watson…

  Oh, Lord. He was having an affair.

  She had no doubt it was with Heather Sweeney. Hell, she could hardly blame him. Even to her biased eye, the two of them were perfect together. And old high school sweethearts, to boot.

  “Last night you were with Heather, weren’t you?” It was so obvious now. The hours he’d been missing, his secretive behavior afterward, the sand…oh, God, the sand…

  Russell’s downcast eyes revealed his secret.

  Pain blindsided her, sweeping away the anger. That Russell, her Russell, could do this. “Why? How?”

  “I should have told you, Julie. I hate that I lied to you.”

  When had it started? That first night, she supposed, when Heather had delivered her fresh-baked cookies to their front door. Julie had made love with her husband that night, the first time since the accident. At least, Julie had been the body in the bed. But it was Heather who’d awoken his desire—Julie had sensed as much even then.

  But she’d never guessed he would act on those feelings….

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, Russell. I know I haven’t been the ideal wife. But you are the last man I ever would have expected to have an affair.”

  “An affair? Holy shit, Julie, what are you talking about?”

  His astonishment befuddled her. “You just admitted you met Heather last night.”

  “But not to— Not for—” Russell shook his head. “We met to talk. Just talk.”

  Oh, how she wanted to believe that. But wouldn’t any man deny what had really happened? “Oh, sure, Russell. You met your old girlfriend—who happens to be a very sexy young redhead—secretly in the night just to talk. Perhaps you were comparing lesson plans on the beach? That would explain all the sand in your shoes and your pants.”

  “I guess I deserve that.” He gave her the look he always gave her when he felt he’d been in the wrong. The look that said I’m sorry, but I love you. Will that do?

  Julie hated when her husband gave her that look, diffusing her anger and managing to appear sexy and gorgeous at the same time. She hoped, again, that he could somehow be telling the truth and that all he and Heather had done was talk. But…

  “If your meeting with Heather was innocent, why did you lie about it?”

  “I didn’t want to upset you.”

  “Well, no kidding.”

  “Julie, we weren’t… We just had a…misunderstanding from the past that we needed to clear up.”

  “What kind of misunderstanding?”

  Russell tried to explain. “I had the impression something was bothering Heather and I asked her to meet me at the beach. I was curious about the year she’d taken off between her second and third sessions at university.”

  “I remember you asking her about that when she had us over for dinner. She said she’d planned to travel.”

  “But I knew how eager she was to graduate. Besides, as she admitted, she couldn’t afford to travel.”

  “Maybe she needed a break from studying.”

  “No. That wasn’t it. Julie, she took the year off to have a baby.” He paused, his expression a miserable quagmire of guilt, anguish, shock. “My baby.”

  A baby? Julie’s mind raced with the implications. She’d known Heather and Russell had been romantically involved. But she hadn’t guessed their relationship had been as recent as that. Why, he must have slept with the other woman just weeks before he met her.

  “You didn’t know?”

  “She never told me.”

  “What happened to the baby?”

  “She gave him up for adoption.”

  “Him?” For some reason that stung more than anything. Finding out Russell had fathered another son… Suddenly it felt so real. Russell and Heather had made a baby together.

  “Yes. A son—”

  Julie held out a hand, not able to bear to hear more about the child. Not yet. “Tell me how this happened.”

  “Heather and I had one last fling during that summer before you and I met. Heather wasn’t on the pill anymore, but she didn’t tell me. She didn’t tell me later, either, about the pregnancy or the baby.”

  “But why?”

  “I guess she was waiting to hear from me first. But
I was so busy falling in love with you, I honestly didn’t give her a second thought,” he admitted. “Which is pretty callous when you consider that I’d known her since I was a toddler and dated her for several years.”

  “Oh, my God, what a mess.”

  “Tell me about it. Apparently a doctor and his wife adopted the boy. Heather doesn’t know their names or even where they live.”

  “All this happened before we were married?”

  “Yes.” Russell placed a hand on the space between them. His large, freckled hand stood out against the ivory linens. “If I had known, I would have told you, Jule.”

  “And if you had, I still would have married you.” Julie placed her hand over his. But would he have married her? If he’d been aware of Heather’s pregnancy, wasn’t it likely Russell would have returned to Saskatchewan to see her? And once there, Julie could easily imagine him offering to do the honorable thing and marry Heather.

  She reflected on that careless, joyful year they’d spent together before deciding to marry. Their fate had been hanging by a thread for all those months and neither of them had had a clue. Two words from Heather could have shattered their world—perhaps irreparably.

  “This is unbelievable. I don’t know what to say.” She tried to imagine the situation from Russell’s perspective. He’d just found out he had a child he hadn’t known existed. What a shock, especially for a man like him. He wasn’t the type to walk away from responsibility.

  Julie let her head sink into the pillows. It seemed that the only light in the world came from the small lamp at the side of her bed. At almost two in the morning, she and her husband lay at arm’s length apart in their bed and contemplated a future that had just shifted into something she had never imagined.

  Russell already had a second child. Tonight she could not tell him she was expecting his third.

  THE NEXT MORNING, RUSSELL cut himself shaving several times. He’d thought he’d feel better after telling Julie the truth, but he didn’t.

  True, she hadn’t hurled any accusations at him last night. She’d even claimed she still would have married him if she’d known about the baby. He wasn’t fooled by her attempts to be supportive.

  Finding out about Heather’s pregnancy now was a new stress his marriage absolutely did not need.

  And today he had to face Heather again, after she’d hung up on him last night. Feeling cowardly, he was the one who avoided the staff room during morning recess. As he copied out a newspaper article writing assignment for his class, he listened to the sounds of children playing from the open, third-floor window.

  Then he noticed Heather in the doorway. She’d pulled her hair into a ponytail again. Freckles stood out in tan patches on her pale face. At that moment, she could have passed for a high school student rather than an elementary school teacher.

  “Heather.” He put down the chalk and wiped dust from his hands on his slacks. As he walked toward her, he saw the naked pain in her eyes.

  “Oh, Heather.” She had been crying last night. Her eyes were clear now, but they were still a little puffy. Aware of his scrutiny, she put a finger to the corner of one of them.

  “I’ve told everyone I’m suffering from allergies this morning.”

  His heart crumbled further. “I should never have called you like that yesterday. I’m sorry I cross-examined you on your decision to give up the baby. Of course you did the right thing. Please don’t think I’m judging you.”

  Why had he even asked if she might have considered keeping the baby? He knew Heather so well. She had a tender, loving heart. Giving up her child could not have been easy. Without a doubt the child’s best interests, not her own, had motivated her decision.

  “Russ, this is all new to you. I don’t blame you for questioning why I did what I did. You have every right to ask.”

  “Not if I’m going to upset you.”

  “I wasn’t really upset—more surprised that’s all. When you mentioned being an active father, I misunderstood your meaning at first.”

  Replaying their brief exchange for the umpteenth time, Russell had a disquieting thought. Could she have wondered if he’d meant that he might have married her? The supposition wasn’t unreasonable. If he hadn’t already met Julie, he might have done exactly that. But he’d been totally in love with Julie by then. Marrying Heather would have been impossible.

  He’d have been her friend, yes. Given her whatever support, emotional and financial, she would accept from him. But he would not have married her.

  Was that what she’d secretly wanted?

  Now, seeing her twist her small hands in front of her, her skin suddenly pink with new color, he had an awful realization.

  Their rendezvous that summer had been pleasant, fun, convenient. From his point of view. At the time he’d thought Heather shared the same opinion. Two old friends getting together for a beautiful night, with no strings attached.

  But maybe that wasn’t how the situation had looked from her perspective. Maybe she’d read more commitment into his actions than she’d found in his words. If so, he’d broken her heart. Even before she found out she was pregnant. God, he was a real bastard.

  “Russ, I can tell by looking at you that you’re blaming yourself again. I knew the score between us. Really I did. You never promised me anything, not even a phone call.”

  “You deserved so much more, Heather.”

  “If I did, I didn’t know it at the time. I admit I still loved you then. And yes, I hoped after grad school you’d come back to Chatsworth and be ready to settle down. But it didn’t work out that way, and that’s fine. I met Nick, and we were happy for a while….”

  But only three years. “You’re so young and already you’ve lost so much.” Compared with her, he felt so damn lucky. Yes, Ben’s accident had been a nightmare. But Ben was alive and he was well.

  “I went through a year or two of depression,” she admitted. “But I’m much better now, and guess what—I’ve even got a date for this weekend.”

  “Really?” He immediately regretted the enthusiasm in his voice, knowing Heather would realize he was desperate to assuage his guilt.

  “Yeah. It’s a blind date. Some guy from Yorkton.” She curled her pretty mouth in a half smile. “We’ll see how it goes. I’m trying not to expect too much.”

  “Right.”

  She turned to leave, and his hand automatically shot out to block her way.

  “Russ?” Her face was half in shadow, half in light. He saw the curiosity, and behind that, the faintest spark of something more. Something that seemed suspiciously like hope.

  A thousand thoughts flew through his head. Things he’d like to say to her, apologies, hopes for her future. He wanted to tell her what a terrific woman she was. And how much he valued her friendship. Most of all, he longed to thank her for bearing his child.

  But he couldn’t say any of those things. None of them was appropriate. Not anymore.

  “If I can ever do anything to help you, Heather, I’d really appreciate if you asked.”

  A person inclined to hold a grudge would have thrown his offer back in his face. But Heather wasn’t that way.

  “I’ll keep your offer in mind, Russ. Maybe there will be something. You never know.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  AT THE CAFÉ THAT MORNING, T.J. and Lucky cornered Julie. They’d seen her showing drawings and paint chips to Donna, who had actually cracked another shy smile before scooting back into the kitchen to share the plans with Jim.

  “We want you to spruce up our stores, too.” Lucky had on his ubiquitous denim overalls and a clean white T-shirt. As he slid over to the stool on her left, Julie noticed his grizzled face had been shaven clean and rubbed to a shine with a spicy after-shave.

  T.J., to her right, nodded. “Yeah, let’s freshen up Main Street. God knows, we could all use a little change.”

  Unlike Lucky, T.J. had taken no pains with his grooming today. He hadn’t combed his curly dark hair, and he spor
ted a two-day dark shadow on his jaw that only made him look more handsome than ever. Observing the cynical twist to his smile, Julie wondered why he’d chosen to come back here after his marriage had broken down.

  According to Adrienne, this man was a lawyer. He could work wherever he wanted. Why not follow his wife out East so he could spend time with his kid? What did Chatsworth hold for T.J.? Certainly not a huge pool of available women.

  Considering the man’s diffidence, though, perhaps that was exactly the town’s charm.

  “Tell me, gentlemen, what do you have in mind?” Julie listened without comment as Lucky outlined his plans for installing a neon sign and maybe an electric door that opened when customers stepped on a black mat on the floor.

  When Lucky had exhausted his pool of ideas, T.J. cut straight to the chase.

  “I think what Lucky means is he wants the store to have appeal. Quaint country charm, isn’t that right?”

  “Quaint.” Lucky rolled the word around his mouth for a few moments, as if trying to remember what it meant.

  “I get the picture,” Julie assured T.J. “And I’d be glad to draft a few ideas for both of you. I could have them later this week. Provided you’re okay with my fee.” She mentioned the hourly rate.

  “Why, that’s triple what I pay my staff,” Lucky said. He hired a local boy to stock shelves and deliver groceries to some of the elderly people in town. He also employed a single mother of three to help out behind the till on the weekend.

  “And still a very reasonable rate,” T.J. added. “Thanks, Julie, I’m sure your services are worth much more than that.”

  “Not in Chatsworth, I’m afraid.”

  He nodded acknowledgment. “Yeah. I get your point.”

  “Anyway, I’m happy for the work. I think I’ll have fun.” Drafting the sketches for Donna had been surprisingly rewarding. Even better had been seeing Donna’s delighted reaction.

  T.J. and Lucky were stepping out to the street, on their way to open shop, when Adrienne breezed in, late.

  “Oh, my God, Julie, wait till you hear!” She lowered her voice a notch, only a token whisper. “I just spoke to Cynthia.”