by Cindy Kirk
Smart man that he was, Owen obviously saw where this was headed and didn’t appear eager to travel that path. “It was that way with me and Tessa. We were in love and marrying felt right. It ended up being a huge mistake. Except, as painful as the divorce was, I’d do it all over again, because otherwise I wouldn’t have had Mindy.”
Lindsay wondered if he still loved Tessa. Could love end as easily as flipping a switch when you left a room? “Tessa has done well for herself professionally.”
Everyone in Good Hope knew the Slattery family had never done anything to support Tessa or Krew. In fact, it was amazing both kids hadn’t ended up in prison.
“Tessa had an intense drive to succeed.” Owen’s lips lifted, telling Lindsay not all memories of their time together were bad. “The woman had great instincts.”
Lindsay forked off a bite of pizza but didn’t bring it to her mouth. “How so?”
“She was a master at qualifying for grants and scholarships.” He paused as if not certain how to explain. “Like, if she were in your situation, she’d know every small-business grant for entrepreneurs available.” Owen cocked his head. “Have you thought about seeing what grants are out there?”
Lindsay tightened her fingers around the fork. Now that he mentioned the possibility, she recalled reading something about such grants. “I haven’t looked into it, but I will. Thank you.”
“Happy to be of help.” Grinning, he lifted a slice of pizza to his mouth and munched happily.
The food Lindsay had eaten sat in the pit of her stomach like one of her mother’s leaden matzo balls. Anita might be a master baker, but the woman was a horrible cook.
Lindsay didn’t know if Tessa excelled at cooking, and she wasn’t about to ask. No doubt, if Owen’s ex had pursued the culinary arts, she’d be a master chef by now.
“Did you and Tessa ever connect in high school?” The second the question slipped past her lips, Lindsay wished she could pull it back. The last thing she wanted to do was spend the evening talking about the woman who’d broken Owen’s heart.
“I kissed her one night at a beach party. There was always lots of kissing at the bonfires.” Owen waved a dismissive hand. “Along with the consumption of endless amounts of alcohol.”
“Ami and I attended just one of those parties.” Breathing suddenly became difficult. “She lost control of the car on our way home, and we hit a tree.”
Lindsay didn’t need to elaborate. The accident had been big news in the tightly knit community.
“That’s where you got this…” Owen trailed a finger down the scar on her cheek.
Lindsay sat back, suddenly self-conscious. “I-I have makeup that does a good job covering it, but it’s expensive. I reserve it for special occasions.”
Grasping her hand, Owen brought it to his mouth and pressed a kiss into the palm. His gaze never left her face. “You survived injuries that nearly took your life. The scar is a symbol of your strength.”
Lindsay dropped her gaze as tears threatened.
“I’m thankful you lived.” His thumb caressed her palm. “If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you now. We wouldn’t be having a baby together.”
“Your life would be easier.”
“My life would be empty.” He swallowed. “I can’t imagine my life without you.”
She searched his hazel eyes. “Really? You aren’t just saying that?”
“I mean every word.” His gaze remained locked with hers.
What she saw in those hazel depths had her heart flip-flopping. “Maybe we can make this work.”
Lindsay didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Owen gripped her hands. “Trust me. There’s no maybe about it.”
“Well, isn’t this cozy?”
Instead of releasing her hand at the sound of the unwelcome feminine voice, Owen held on.
For a second, Lindsay considered jerking back, but refused to give her mother the satisfaction.
Lindsay looked up and discovered it wasn’t just her mother at their table, but also Leonard Swarts.
Though her mother wore a V-neck sweater with her dark pants and heels tonight, this top didn’t show off as excessive an amount of cleavage as her sweaters had in the past.
Len, appearing comfortable in jeans, a gray sweater and cowboy boots, offered them a warm smile.
“We were waiting for a table to open up when your mother spotted you.” Though retired, Len had a lawman’s face, with an expression that gave nothing away.
Lindsay caught Owen’s sideways glance. It was up to her, she realized. “Won’t you join us?”
“We wouldn’t want to intrud—” Len began, but Anita had already pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Are you two dating again?” Anita demanded as the waitress hurried over.
“Darlin’.” Len placed a hand over Anita’s and gave it a pat. “How ’bout we order and exchange a few pleasantries before you begin the interrogation?”
To Lindsay’s surprise, her mother, who didn’t like anyone calling her out, blushed. Perhaps it was the way Len had phrased the question. Or maybe it was the word darlin’ said with such obvious affection.
“Of course.” Anita looked at their glasses of iced tea, then back to the pizza. “Chianti would do a better job of enhancing the flavor of the pepperoni.”
“Probably.” Owen answered before Lindsay had a chance to respond. “Tea just sounded better to both of us.”
“Well, we’re going to imbibe.” Anita smiled coquettishly at Len. “The usual?”
The usual? Her mother and her new boyfriend had a usual?
“Great minds think alike.” Len turned to the waitress with the same air of quiet command and kindness Lindsay remembered him showing when he’d arrived at their house after the Bernie episode. “This little lady and I will have a medium barbecue chicken pizza and a Guinness for each of us.”
“Thank you, sir.” The waitress, a pretty blonde with pink-tipped hair, hurried off.
Owen cocked his head. “Guinness with pizza?”
“Try it sometime,” Len urged. “The dark roasted characteristic of an Irish stout is fantastic with chicken and the sweetness of the barbecue sauce.”
Lindsay decided appearances really could be deceiving. She’d never pegged the tall, broad-shouldered sheriff with the bushy silver mustache as a chicken-pizza man, much less one into food and drink pairings.
Anita lifted her hands, spreading her fingers. “I was skeptical. Frankly, I couldn’t see that particular combination working.”
“Once I got Muffy to try it”—the older man shot her a wink—“she was hooked.”
When the two exchanged a smile, Lindsay felt as if she’d stepped into an old Twilight Zone episode.
Owen’s lips twitched. “Muffy?”
Anita straightened in her chair. The look she shot him was ice. “My maiden name was Muff.”
“It’s a pet name.” Affection wove through Len’s words like a pretty ribbon.
“I love it.” Anita stroked his arm, then brushed a kiss across his cheek.
Owen rubbed his chin and studied Lindsay for so long her cheeks began to burn. “I should come up with one for you, Lin.”
Before she could respond, the waitress returned with extra plates and two Guinness-branded glasses, each filled with the deep reddish-brown stout boasting a white foamy head.
Lindsay gestured to the half-eaten pizza in the center of the table. “There are extra slices of pepperoni if you’d like to munch while you wait.”
The horrified look that appeared on her mother’s face told Lindsay a person didn’t pair pepperoni and Guinness. At least, not in Anita Fishback’s well-ordered world. “Pepperoni needs the bitterness of an India Pale Ale to offset the saltiness of the meat.”
Len smiled approvingly. “Your mother has become somewhat of an expert in such matters.”
“Thanks to your tutelage.” Anita circled a hand in the semblance of a bow.
Lindsay could only st
are.
“I appreciate the offer, Owen, but I think I’ll save my appetite for our pizza. I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” Len glanced at Anita.
“Yes, ah, thanks for offering and for, ah, letting us share your table.” Anita might have needed a nudge from Len, but she sounded surprisingly sincere.
Lindsay relaxed against the back of the chair. Perhaps sharing a meal with her mother wouldn’t be so difficult.
Then Anita’s gaze fixed on her. “Did you happen to read the Open Door today?”
Something in her mother’s assessing gaze had unease traveling up Lindsay’s spine. She tried to imagine what could have been in the e-newsletter. Did it involve Cassie? Or one of her children?
God, she hoped not. Cassie and the boys had been doing so well lately. Cassie had embraced the added responsibilities Ryder had given her at the Daily Grind, and the boys had both made the honor roll last quarter.
Surely the news didn’t involve her niece. Dakota was back in Good Hope for the semester, hoping to earn enough money to return to college in the spring. Of course, Lindsay reminded herself, gossip didn’t have to be bad. Perhaps one of the many scholarships her niece had applied for had come through.
Realizing her mother was still waiting for a response, Lindsay smiled.
“I saw the newsletter in my in-box, but time got away from me this morning. I haven’t had a chance to open it.” Like most Good Hope citizens, Lindsay enjoyed reading the feature stories and pursuing the advertisements and sales. And she always scanned the gossip section. “Good news for someone, I hope.”
“That depends.”
Her mother’s cryptic comment had Lindsay glancing at Owen. Surely he’d have told her if he’d seen some good news about one of her family or friends. “Did you read it today?”
Owen shook his head. “I don’t usually get around to it until right before bed.”
Lindsay turned back to her mother and found Anita staring intently at her, eyes sharp and assessing. Something in the newsletter had captured her mother’s attention and piqued her curiosity. It had to have been in the gossip section. Anita would never be this excited over a feature article.
Because it was apparent—at least to Lindsay—that her mother expected her to press for details, Lindsay simply lifted her glass of iced tea to her lips.
“Well, don’t keep us all in suspense, Muffy.” Len’s tone held a teasing edge. “Tell us what’s got you so fired up.”
Lindsay doubted the ex-lawman read the gossip section and cared even less what Katie Ruth had written. But it spoke to his affection for Anita that he played along so amiably.
Anita leaned slightly forward, as if about to impart news of great importance rather than simply spreading a bit of gossip. “Katie Ruth said a certain young woman she knew from high school is pregnant.”
Lindsay’s mind somersaulted. She’d gone to school with Katie Ruth. Then she reminded herself that so had any number of young women. Including Eliza, who hadn’t yet publicly announced her pregnancy. “Did she give any clues? It could be anyone. I can think of several pregnant women in Good Hope. Ami, for one.”
“Ami Cross being pregnant is old news.” Anita brushed that possibility away with a quick flick of her wrist, then narrowed her gaze on her daughter.
A chill traveled up Lindsay’s spine. Had her mother found out about the baby? But how? Owen wouldn’t have said anything, and she trusted Ami and Eliza implicitly. Had someone seen her at the pharmacy picking up the prenatal vitamins? Or leaving Dr. Swanson’s office that first time with baby-related samples?
Or, and this seemed more likely, was her mother simply on a fishing expedition? If Anita suspected Katie Ruth had been referring to Lindsay, wouldn’t her mother simply ask her if she was pregnant?
As thoughts swirled and worry tried to take hold, it hit Lindsay just how profoundly weary she was of the subterfuge and evasions. She wouldn’t be able to hide her pregnancy for much longer. The truth was, she didn’t want to hide it.
She wanted to enjoy every moment of the experience. She wanted to go to Swoon, the cute boutique in town that had just started carrying maternity clothes, and shop with Eliza and Ami. She wanted to compile lists of names and sit with Owen in Muddy Boots and come up with their top five without worrying about being overheard.
Though a pizza parlor hardly seemed the place for any momentous announcement, Lindsay knew relaying the news in her mother’s living room would be too reminiscent of the Cassie fiasco. No. It was best to do it now.
Lindsey set down her tumbler of tea. She met her mother’s gaze head on. “I’m pregnant.”
“I think Fin’s pregnant.”
She and Anita spoke at the same instant.
Her always composed mother’s hands fluttered in the air. She cleared her throat. “What did you say?”
Len, sweetheart that he was, didn’t make Lindsay repeat the announcement. A broad smile lifted his mouth, the edges of his lips disappearing into his mustache.
“Well, I’ll be.” Len cast a glance at Anita. “This is wonderful news. Congratulations. When’s the baby due?”
“The end of March.” Owen spoke when Lindsay’s tongue decided to go on strike.
“I take it you’re the daddy.” Len’s tone remained jovial.
“I am.” There was pride in Owen’s voice, but also a warning directed at Anita.
Like Lindsay, her mother seemed to be having difficulty finding her voice.
“You’re a lucky man, Owen.” A shadow passed briefly over Len’s rugged features. “My wife and I weren’t able to have children. Last weekend, Anita and I watched Axl while Cassie was working. Little boys are a lot of fun.”
“We’re having a girl,” Owen told the older man.
Len turned to Anita. “Looks like we’ll have us a girl to spoil in the spring.”
“Yes.” Anita reached over and chugged a long drink of Guinness. “It appears so.”
Lindsay braced herself when her mother set down her glass. While she believed Len’s presence could be a mitigating factor, Anita Fishback was a woman who never shied from saying exactly what was on her mind.
“Katie Ruth knows?” Anita asked.
A reprieve came in the form of the waitress returning with a piping-hot barbecue chicken pizza. Obviously thinking ahead, in case they needed to make a quick escape, Owen asked for the rest of their pizza to be boxed up.
“I don’t believe so,” Lindsay told her. “The only ones I’ve told are Eliza and Ami. And, of course, Owen.”
“Perhaps Katie Ruth was referring to Fin.”
Lindsay blinked. She’d just told her mother she was pregnant, and Anita wanted to speculate on who else might be pregnant?
The comment must have hit her mother as odd, too, because she shook her layered mane of auburn hair as if clearing her head. “That’s not important. What’s important is you. How are you feeling?”
“Ah, fine. Actually, I’m great.” Lindsay felt as if she was picking her way through a minefield. The tension of waiting was almost worse than the explosion to come. “Why are you being so nice about this?”
“That’s an odd question.” Her mother raised a perfectly tweezed dark brow. “Did you expect me to throw my hands up in the air? Rant and rave simply because my unmarried daughter is pregnant?”
Lindsay had to hand it to her mother. Anita’s bluntness was a finely tuned blade.
“Yes,” Lindsay said. “That’s exactly what I expected.”
Was that pain that sparked in her mother’s hazel eyes?
Anita appeared to be gathering her thoughts when Len took her hand and gave her an encouraging smile. “Time to speak from the heart, Muffy.”
When Anita shifted her gaze from him back to Lindsay, a sheen glimmered in her hazel depths. “I don’t know if you’re aware, but I recently participated in a family counseling session with Cassie and Dr. Gallagher.”
If Anita had announced she’d sold her business and was moving to Tahiti,
Lindsay couldn’t have been more surprised.
“Really?” was the best she could manage.
Anita nodded. Her fingers tightened around Len’s. “Cassie is determined to get her life back on track. She’s accepted responsibility for her choices and actions. It’s time I do the same.”
When Anita didn’t immediately elaborate, Lindsay narrowed her gaze. “What exactly does that mean?”
“I wasn’t there for Cassie after Richard died.” Anita expelled a ragged breath. “She was Daddy’s girl. You and I both accepted that theirs was a special bond. His heart attack and death rocked her world.”
Lindsay slowly nodded.
“My world was thrown upside down, too. Richard was my rock. Then, one day—without warning—he was gone, and I was left with two grieving girls and a world that no longer made sense.” Anita’s chuckle held a harsh edge. “There’s a reason they say to hold off making big decisions for at least a year after a loved one’s death. Of course, I didn’t listen.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Understanding filled Len’s tone. “I made plenty of mistakes myself that first year after Margaret died.”
“I should never have brought Bernie into our lives. I was lonely. I didn’t love him, not the way a woman should love her husband. I realize that now.”
“Without love, a marriage is doomed to fail.” Len’s eyes took on a distant look as he no doubt thought of his beloved wife who’d passed on several years earlier.
“Cassie saw the marriage as a betrayal of her father and withdrew into herself. Worse, we all bore the brunt of Bernie’s temper and mood swings during the years we were married.” Tears, actual tears, glistened in Anita’s eyes.
Lindsay couldn’t recall ever seeing her mother cry. Even at her husband’s funeral, she’d remained stoic.
“I should have kicked him out long before he destroyed Cassie’s sense of self-worth and struck you.” Anita reached across the table and surprised Lindsay by clasping her cold hand. “I should have supported my daughters when they needed me most.”
Lindsay didn’t know what to think. This was a side of her mother she barely remembered. “What are you saying?”
