An Accidental Mom

by Loree Lough

  No answer.

  He knocked again, then steeled himself, because if she opened that door and she stood there, eyes red-rimmed from crying…

  Still no answer.

  Max pressed an ear to the door, knuckles banging a third time. “Lily?” he called quietly. “You in there?”

  A bellhop walked by, shoving a cart laden with soiled dishes. “If you’re lookin’ for the lady who was in that room, I think she checked out.”

  Max stiffened. “Checked out?”

  “Saw her pulling one of those wheely suitcases down the hall.” He thought about it a moment. “Must’ve been ten, fifteen minutes ago, when I delivered room service at the other end of the hall.”

  “Are you sure she checked out?” He’d floored the sports car, risking a speeding ticket or an accident to get here as fast as he could. How could she have had time to pack and—

  “I remember her,” the young man said, “because she nearly bumped into me.” He tugged the sleeve of his white jacket. “Looked like maybe she’d been cryin’.”

  “Thanks,” Max said, slipping the kid a five.

  “Hope you catch up with her,” he called, as Max raced toward the bank of elevators.

  “So do I,” he said under his breath. “So do I….”

  Lily decided enough was enough. No more tears. Period. She sat woodenly on the black vinyl chairs at gate nine, hands folded primly in her lap, waiting to board the plane.

  She’d been lucky today—catching a standby flight coming into O’Hare, getting another going out.

  But luck had nothing to do with it, and she knew it. The Good Lord had orchestrated things.

  She learned the hard way, and God had made sure she’d get to Chicago so she could see for herself that things could never work out between her and Max Sheridan. And He’d arranged quick passage home so she could lick her wounds in the bosom of her loving family.

  She should have known better. Because, really, what more could she expect from a man who’d abandoned his faith…who, despite his many blessings, questioned the Almighty more often than he questioned local politicians. If he couldn’t trust the Lord, how could he be trusted himself?

  He can’t, she admitted, remembering the sight of him with Susan.

  Lily closed her eyes, hoping to block the image from her mind. But it seemed just as vivid, just as painful behind that curtain of darkness.

  She focused on the young couple seated across from her. Newlyweds, no doubt. She could tell by the way the girl kept holding her hand up, trying to catch a beam of light in her diamond wedding band. By the way they sat, shoulders touching.

  She looked away, unable to watch a moment more of their bliss, because the truth was, she’d never have a moment of it for herself.

  True as that was, she couldn’t put all the blame on Max’s shoulders. Half belonged to her, for convincing herself he cared for her, that maybe he was falling in love with her. He had never said anything of the kind, had never made a single promise, had not so much as hinted at a commitment.

  She’d read far more into those kisses than he’d intended. From Max’s point of view, they’d probably just been for sport. Trivial. To give meaning to them had been a mistake. One of the biggest she’d made. Ever.

  She inhaled a gulp of air, exhaled slowly.

  Life was pretty good, right?

  She had her dad, her sisters, her animals, right?

  Lily remembered a day from long ago…

  “Where’d you get that black eye?” her dad had asked, pulling her onto his lap.

  “Jimmy Peters dumped my book bag on the school bus floor. And when I was crawling around picking them up, he kicked me. So I socked him. I hate him!” she had said, burying her face in the soft flannel of his plaid shirt.

  “Now, now,” he said, drying her tears with the pads of his thumbs. “Let me tell you a story. It’s about an old Navajo and his young grandson. ‘There is a great battle going in within me, a war of two wolves,’ he told the boy. ‘The first wolf is evil, and symbolizes worry, hatred, bitterness, anger, superiority, laziness—all the worst of human emotions.

  “‘The second wolf is good, representing kindness and love, hope, faith, trust, helpfulness—the best things man can be.’

  “The grandson thought about this for a long, long time, and then he said, ‘Grandfather? Which wolf wins?’”

  Lamont had taken Lily’s face in his big callused hands at that moment, had looked deep into her eyes and finished the story: “‘Whichever wolf I feed,’ said the grandfather. ‘Whichever wolf I feed….’”

  Lily hadn’t fully understood the moral, not as a ten-year-old.

  But she knew its meaning now, and held it close to her heart.

  God had blessed her with free will, had given her the ability to choose how she would react to things that happened to her, throughout her life.

  She would have to choose now, between feeling disappointed and angry with Max, or forgiving and forgetting. She knew which decision the Lord expected her to make.

  So she’d pray, hard, for the strength to get through this quickly, quietly, without complaint.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Flight number three-five-seven is now boarding at gate nine. If you’ll have your boarding pass ready, please…”

  Lily stood, grabbed her carry-on bag, and got into line with her fellow passengers. As she shuffled, one slow step at a time closer to the airliner’s entrance ramp, she decided to pray, too, for the wisdom to remember that Max hadn’t guaranteed anything but friendship. In that regard, he hadn’t let her down at all.

  That was the truth she’d hold on to until the pain lessened.

  And it would only subside, for it would never leave her.

  Max wished he’d left his coat in the car, because as he ran through the terminal, he could feel the sweat running down his back. He checked the monitors, looking for any flight bound for Amarillo International, and saw one, scheduled for takeoff in less than fifteen minutes.

  Maybe it would be late and he’d reach her in time, stop her from getting on that plane. He couldn’t have her thinking there was any truth in what she’d seen in Wilkes’s library.

  He tried her cell phone again, hoping she’d finally turned it on. But it rang and rang before a pleasant-voiced woman instructed him to leave a message after the beep. “Lily,” he said, breathing hard as he ran toward gate nine, “don’t get on that plane. Please. You have to let me explain—”

  His cell phone cut out on him. Max slapped the mouthpiece shut. “No-good piece of worthless trash,” he grumped, shoving it into his shirt pocket. “Of all the times for it to die on me…”

  He encountered a throng of people, milling through the security check-in point. Max hadn’t thought of this. He’d never make it through the system without a boarding pass. Even if he’d managed to book a last-minute flight, he couldn’t leave Chicago. Not with all the paperwork he’d put into motion before Wilkes’s party. There was no turning back. Not that he wanted to. But if he didn’t stay, scribble his John Hancock at the bottom of every document, he’d have to start the whole process over again. No…better to stay put, clean things up, and then put the Windy City behind him, once and for all.

  Then he had an idea.

  He backtracked a few yards, until he found an available agent at a ticket counter. “Miss,” he said, “I need to have a passenger paged. It’s an emergency.”

  Seconds later, the woman’s voice echoed throughout the terminal: “Will a Miss Lily London please pick up the nearest airport telephone. Miss Lily London…”

  Max waited, pacing back and forth near the security area. There was no other exit from the airport; she’d have to come this way.

  The plane was scheduled for takeoff within minutes. Surely she’d already boarded. And, in that case, no way would she have heard the message.

  In the unlikely event that she’d arrived moments ago, Lily would be passing through the final leg of security right about now. If
she figured out who’d inspired the announcement, would she pick up the phone?

  Max rubbed his eyes. No, she wouldn’t. And he could hardly blame her.

  He walked to the wide wall of windows in time to see an east-west jet taxiing toward the runway. Somehow, Max knew Lily was on that plane.

  The best he could hope for now was to redouble his efforts, get the real estate papers signed and get the partnership documents filed. Making a profit was the last thing on his mind.

  He took his time heading for the parking lot. No need to hurry now. Just as he stepped into the biting night air, a jetliner screamed overhead, its nose pointed toward the sky. A departing flight, Max thought. Lily’s?

  “Keep her safe,” he whispered sadly into the blackness, “always.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Lily felt like a silly schoolgirl, avoiding Max’s calls this way. Better that, she thought, than to answer the phone and let him hear her bawling on the other end like a starving calf. He’d been tying up loose ends in Chicago for the past few days now. Would he ever tire of leaving messages that never got returned?

  She’d learned from Georgia that Max had sold his house in Chicago, that he’d let the partners buy him out of the accounting firm. Which meant that this time, he was coming home for good. According to Georgia he was flying in to Amarillo today.

  Lily had to get a handle on her emotions before she talked to him again, because now that he was a full-time Amarillo resident, she’d likely run into him often. When that happened, she wanted to conduct herself with an air of dignity and pride…instead of running off to blubber over unrequited love.

  It was as she’d spooned the last of a can of dog food into the one-eyed owl’s bowl that the phone rang.

  “Lily, Cammi’s asking for you. Can you come to the hospital, quick?”

  Hospital? Why was Reid at the hospital?

  “She lost the baby, kiddo, and she needs you.”

  Oh, Lord, Lily prayed, please let it be a mistake!

  “I’m on my way,” she told Reid, banging down the phone. “Missy,” she told the dog, “you stay here and guard the rest of the guys, okay? I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  The golden retriever smiled and wagged her tail as if in agreement.

  Lily began backing out of the driveway when the biggest pickup truck she’d ever seen pulled in behind her, blocking her in. A tall, lean man got out of the driver’s side, strolled up to her car. “You Lily London?”

  “Yes,” she said tentatively.

  “Rangers at Lake Meredith told me you’re the gal who’s got my dog.”

  Her heart felt as though it had dropped into her stomach. No, she thought, it can’t be. Not after all these months.

  “Come to fetch her,” he said, when Lily didn’t respond.

  She turned off the car, stepped onto the blacktop. “I posted signs, placed ads, even advertised on the radio. But that was months ago.”

  The man shrugged one bony shoulder. “Been busy.”

  Lily looked at the truck. A woman sat in the passenger seat, looking every bit as grim-faced and stubborn as the man.

  Missy came bounding toward them, stopping several yards away when she spotted the visitor. She wasn’t “smiling” now, Lily noticed.

  “She never did cotton to me,” he said, rolling a toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. With his thumb, he gestured toward the truck. “Belongs to my wife.”

  “I’ve grown very fond of Missy….”

  At the sound of her name, the retriever’s ears perked. Still, she remained a safe distance from the man.

  “Missy? Her name ain’t Missy. It’s Yella Gold— Goldie for short.” He inspected grimy fingernails. “Tell you what,” he said, chomping on the toothpick, “since you’re so smitten with the mutt, I’ll sell her to you.”

  Lily had her checkbook, right there on the front seat of her car. She reached over the console to grab it. “Name your price,” she said, opening it up and clicking the ballpoint she kept inside its case.

  “Ten thousand dollars.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Ten thousand…” She looked at Missy and knew that if she had that kind of money, she’d gladly pay it. But Lily poured every penny of what she earned managing River Valley Ranch into the care and feeding of her animals. “I…I don’t have that much.” She glanced at the register, saw the dismal total on the bottom line.

  She narrowed her eyes, suddenly suspicious. “How do I know she’s your dog?”

  He smirked, pulled a sheet of folded paper from his shirt pocket. “Kinda thought you might ask that,” he said, handing it to her. “That’s her pedigree you’re holdin’.”

  She glanced at it, tried to hand it back. “This is still no proof that you’re her owner.”

  He wouldn’t accept the paper. “So, it’s proof you want, is it?” The man faced Missy and snapped his fingers. Her fur bristled as she bared her teeth. A low, ferocious growl echoed from deep in her chest as she lowered her head. “Goldie,” he ordered, “come!”

  Missy’s snarling intensified. She hadn’t shown any signs of being vicious, not once in the months since Lily had pulled her out of Lake Meredith. “Where’d you lose her?” she demanded.

  “Me an’ the missus was fishin’ on Lake Meredith. She fell in the water.” He shrugged again. “We thought she drowned. Then I found this.”

  The paper he handed her this time was one of the Lost Dog posters she’d hung on every telephone pole in Amarillo. “I still haven’t seen any proof that you’re her owners.”

  “Kinda thought you’d say that, too,” he said, “bein’ that you’re Lamont London’s baby girl and all. Here’s the check I wrote to the kennel, and the one I wrote to the American Kennel Club. See? The numbers jibe. She’s my dog.”

  Now Lily understood. They’d heard that her father was one of the wealthiest men in the Texas Panhandle; they’d put two and two together, and come up with ten thousand.

  Well, she couldn’t ask her dad for the money. Lamont had always been generous to a fault. But he’d been born and raised a rancher, with a practical, down-to-earth mind-set about money. To him, animals were a family’s bread and butter. No dog, not even his beloved Obnoxious, would be worth ten thousand dollars.

  “I can give you five hundred now, five hundred more if—”

  “Nope. Ten grand. Take it or leave it.”

  It made sense, suddenly, that they’d named her Goldie. Who knows how many times they’d pulled this scam?

  Maybe if she could buy some time… “Could you give me a few days?”

  He glanced at his wife, who gave one slow nod.

  “You have a week.” He checked his watch, then climbed into the driver’s seat of his truck. “Ten grand,” he repeated, “or the mutt goes home with us.”

  With that, he backed down the drive and headed north.

  Trembling, heart hammering, Lily hugged Missy. “Those terrible people!” she said, kissing the dog’s head. “What have they done to you?” Ruffling the retriever’s long, shiny ears, she added, “Don’t you worry, girl. I’ll find a way to keep you.” She kissed her again, this time on her snout.

  Lily got back into the car and headed south, toward the hospital. “When it rains, it pours,” she muttered. With Cammi in the hospital and Missy’s future in jeopardy, she’d have plenty to worry about….

  Her father’s wolf story came to mind.

  Which wolf are you going to feed? she asked herself.

  Cammi had always been Lily’s rock. Since they lost their mother when Lily was four and Cammi twelve, her sister had been more like a mom. Now it was Lily’s turn to be the supportive, nurturing one.

  Cammi would need her to be strong. So would Reid, for that matter. Could she do it?

  She could…if she fed the right wolf.

  Home. Max had thought about it as he signed the real estate papers, as he scribbled the bottom line on the documents that would free him from the partnership, as he read the in-fligh
t magazine during the trip home.

  It sure would be good to unpack in Amarillo, never to live anywhere else again.

  But there were more important things to consider than his suitcase. He had to straighten things out with Lily—the sooner, the better.

  He must have called her fifty times since she left Chicago the other night, must have left half that many messages. But she hadn’t answered one. Maybe he’d been wrong on Thanksgiving when he’d speculated which of Lamont’s daughters had inherited his fiery temper. Maybe it was Lily, not Violet, after all. Because if she wasn’t mad at him, what kept her from answering the phone!

  Hurt feelings, that’s what. In her shoes, he’d have been humiliated, witnessing what looked like a passionate love scene. But unlike Lily, Max would have confronted things, head-on.

  Wouldn’t he?

  He’d driven straight from the airport to River Valley Ranch, fully expecting to find Lily in the barn, mothering her animals.

  He’d been wrong.

  Missy had been there and, strange as it seemed, hadn’t acted like her usual happy self. “What’s wrong, girl?” he asked, ruffling her soft fur. “You missin’ your mama?”

  The dog whined, broke free of his hug and began pacing. Something had agitated her, and Max couldn’t help but wonder what. Missy was the most laid-back dog he’d ever met.

  He knocked on the back door of Lamont’s ranch house.

  No answer.

  He tried the front door.

  Same result.

  That was almost as weird as Missy’s behavior, because not once in all the years he’d come here as a boy had the place been deserted.

  It was like a ghost town. No Lamont. No Lily. Not even a ranch hand he could quiz.

  Puzzled and worried, Max left.

  “I don’t get it,” Max said, a short while later in Georgia’s diner. “What do you mean, someone wants ten grand for Missy?”

  Georgia shrugged. “I’m only repeating what I heard in town. Strangers showed up, put papers under Lily’s nose to prove they’re the dog’s rightful owners. She has a week to come up with the money or Missy goes with them next time they leave.” She pointed to the bulletin board near the phone. “That’s their number.”