Читать книгу The Baby They Both Loved - Nikki Benjamin - Страница 8

K it Davenport eyed the clock on the kitchen wall of the Dinner Belle Diner as she dumped handfuls of freshly chopped vegetables into the pot of stew meat already simmering on the six-burner stove. It was almost ten-thirty, and her part-time waitress, Bonnie Lennox, wasn’t scheduled to start work until eleven.

Normally Bonnie came in when the diner opened its doors for breakfast at seven in the morning, but that day her young daughter was graduating from kindergarten, an event Kit hadn’t wanted her to miss. Unfortunately, the diner’s crusty old cook, George Ortiz, had called to say he, too, would be late that day due to a painful flare-up of the arthritis that occasionally crippled his gnarled hands and creaky knees but never his indomitable spirit.

Handling the Dinner Belle single-handedly wasn’t a new experience for Kit. Since her mother, Dolores, had owned and operated the little diner in the small town of Belle, Montana, until her death this past December, Kit had literally grown up there. So early in the tourist season, with nearby Glacier National Park’s Logan’s Pass not yet open to vehicular traffic, the breakfast crowd, made up mostly of locals she knew on a first-name basis, had also been relatively undemanding.

Kit had been able to take orders, fry eggs, flip pancakes, bus tables and wash dishes without a problem. But getting a head start on the lunch specials she and George had agreed upon for that Tuesday afternoon had been a bit of a challenge. Following even the simplest of her mother’s recipes involved a lot more time and mental energy than she had to spare, especially when she also had to keep an eye on her two-year-old godson, Nathan Kane.

Though easily entertained by the constant activity going on all around him, as the morning wore on the little boy had been growing more and more unhappy with his confinement in the playpen she had set up for him in a corner by the counter.

Taking a peek at the pans of lasagna, a Dinner Belle favorite, baking in the double oven, Kit made a mental note to start defrosting the loaves of garlic bread still in the freezer. But first she had another breakfast plate to serve up. She slid the eggs out of the cast-iron skillet, added several rashers of bacon, a scoop of hash-brown potatoes and two freshly baked biscuits, then made a beeline for the kitchen doorway.

“Just a little longer, sweet boy,” she cooed to Nathan, shooting a smile his way as she hurried past the playpen.

He called after her in his own special brand of gibberish, his high, young voice more aggrieved than it had been the last time she’d walked through the kitchen doorway. He also waved his favorite stuffed teddy bear at her in an attempt to draw her attention to him rather than her customers. She didn’t dare stop to acknowledge the gesture, though. That would only cause his fussiness to escalate another notch.

“He’s such a good child,” Winifred Averill commented as Kit set the plate on the elderly woman’s table. “Shame about his momma, but that Lucy Kane always was a wild thing. Lucky for her she had you for a friend. Otherwise there’s no telling what might have happened to that little boy.”

“Yes, ma’am, Nathan is a good child,” Kit agreed, trying not to bristle at Winifred’s judgmental tone. She was well into her eighties, had lived her entire life in the small town of Belle and hadn’t ever had a shy bone in her body. Her tendency toward plainspokenness could often be unsettling, but she had never been intentionally malicious. “And I was the lucky one to have had Lucy for my friend. She brightened my life with her fun-loving ways, and she truly cared about Nathan. I was honored when she asked me to be his godmother and named me as his guardian in her will.”

“Hard to believe how his daddy’s shirked all responsibility, and him coming from such a fine family, not to mention seeming like such a fine young man himself.”

“Yes, it is hard to believe,” Kit replied.

“Too bad he can’t grow up here in Belle. But you were never as happy in this little town as your momma, or his momma, for that matter. Always had a yen for the big city, didn’t you, Miss Kit?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“You were dead set on going away to college and you found a way to do it. Won a scholarship, got your undergraduate degree, then started working on a master’s degree, your momma said. Majoring in psychology so you could listen to folks talk about their problems. Just like your momma did here at the Dinner Belle, and she didn’t need any fancy college degree to give good advice. “Chuckling softly, Winifred Averill stirred her eggs into her potatoes, adding, “I sure am going to miss this place when you close up at the end of the summer.”

“I’m hoping to have a buyer before then so closing up won’t be necessary. In fact, I’ve already had a few inquiries,” Kit said.

Two, to be exact, and neither couple had pursued their interest in the diner beyond an initial inquiry. But she wasn’t about to set Mrs. Averill off again by admitting as much aloud.

Kit didn’t want to have to close the Dinner Belle for good. But neither did she want to give up the life she’d made for herself in Seattle to run a diner in a small Montana town for the rest of her God-given days. She had gladly taken a leave from her graduate studies at the University of Washington to help out at home when her mother first became ill, and she had stayed on after her mother’s death for the sole purpose of keeping the diner going until it could be sold. Then Lucy had been killed in a tragic accident on an icy back road, and suddenly Kit had also had a precious little boy to raise all on her own.

“Couple of years ago I would have bought the place myself,” Winifred continued, interrupting Kit’s reverie. “But I don’t have as much energy now as I did when I was eighty-five.”

“That’s understandable, ma’am.” Kit hid a smile as she met the woman’s gaze. “Would you like more coffee?”

“Just a smidgen to warm up my cup, if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all.”

As Kit turned to get the coffeepot from the warmer behind the counter, the tinkle of the little bell on the diner’s front door announced the arrival of another customer. Likely just another local, she thought, eager to refill Mrs. Averill’s coffee cup and get back to the kitchen.

She hadn’t gone very far when the murmur of voices among the other customers sitting in the diner stilled, and into the silence Winifred Averill’s voice rang out, loud and clear.

“Well, well, well…speak of the devil,” she said, sounding not only amazed, but also quite pleased.

Curious as to why everyone’s attention had been caught so completely, not to mention what had prompted Winifred’s comment, Kit glanced over her shoulder, checking out the newcomer as he closed the door, then paused a long moment to survey the friendly faces turned his way.

It took Kit only a moment to recognize the tall, dark, handsome man, his curly black hair a shade too long, his bright blue eyes vivid in his tanned face, not a spare ounce of fat on his rangy body. So, too, it seemed, did all the local residents in the diner. Hearty greetings echoed around the room, accompanied by handshakes here and there, as one of Belle’s most favored sons moved slowly down the diner’s center aisle, a charmingly boyish grin on his smoothly shaven face.

Simon Gilmore took his own sweet time responding to one and all in a low voice laced with good humor. Standing near Winifred Averill’s table, all but frozen to the spot, her hands clenched at her sides, Kit eyed him with a growing sense of dread. In that instant she wanted more than anything to take Nathan from his playpen and hurry out the back door of the diner just as quickly as she could.

Her more sensible self knew that taking such action would be foolhardy, though. She could run from Simon Gilmore now, but she wouldn’t be able to hide from him forever. Behaving in a cowardly manner would only give him a weapon he could use against her. And, she reminded herself as she took a steadying breath, he could very well have any number of reasons for returning to Belle that didn’t involve Nathan Kane.

Three years ago, Simon hadn’t been able to get out of town fast enough when he’d found out Lucy was pregnant. And he hadn’t been back since. More importantly, neither he nor his wealthy parents had ever acknowledged their relationship to the little boy. They hadn’t contributed to his support while Lucy was alive. And in the three months since her death, neither Mitchell and Deanna, owners of one of the largest and most prosperous cattle ranches in the state, nor their only child, Simon, had come forward to claim the little boy.

There was Lucy’s last will and testament to consider, as well. She had wanted Kit to be the one to raise her child should she be unable to do so herself, and in a surprising act for one normally so happy-go-lucky, she had stated as much in her will.

Although Kit’s formal adoption of Nathan had yet to be finalized by the court, as far as she was concerned, he was already her child in every way that counted. Anyone who tried to take him away from her—including Simon Gilmore—would be in for a fight.

No amount of determination could completely overcome the shock of seeing Simon again, however. The steely core of resolution that had developed deep within her over the years wouldn’t allow Kit to be intimidated by him. But at the same time she couldn’t deny a lingering sense of vulnerability toward him—a vulnerability firmly rooted in the past.

Lucy hadn’t been the only one attracted to Simon Gilmore all those years ago. But the memory of how Simon had toyed with her best friend’s affection on and off for several years, only to dump her unceremoniously when he found out she was carrying his child, was all Kit needed to gather her scattered wits about her. With a grim twist of her lips, she straightened her spine, unwilling to be intimidated by someone so callow and insensitive.

Almost upon her, Simon finally met her gaze for the first time since he’d entered the diner. He stopped dead and did a double take that Kit would have actually found amusing under other circumstances. Then he moved toward her with a determined glint in his eyes, his grin suddenly wolfish.

Her stomach fluttering unnaturally, Kit stared at him, her mind suddenly muddled, unable to move or to speak.

Halting again only inches from her, Simon put his hands on her shoulders and drew her even closer.

“Well, hey, Miss Kit Davenport…what a surprise to see you here, and a damned nice one, too,” he said, his deep voice shooting up an octave in seemingly honest amazement. “I do believe I’ve missed your pretty face, little darling.”

Then, to Kit’s utter dismay, Simon Gilmore bent his head and kissed her smack on the mouth as if they were long lost lovers blissfully meeting again. And so shocked was she that for just the merest instant her eyes closed instinctively and she almost, almost, kissed him back.

Only Winifred Averill’s delighted cackle saved Kit from demeaning herself that completely. Going rigid, she jerked her head back at the same time she put her hands on Simon’s chest and shoved him forcefully away.

“Don’t,” she said, her voice low, making no attempt at all to hide her anger. “Just don’t do that, okay?”

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he hastened to say, the look on his face now one of confusion as he tucked his hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “I didn’t mean any harm. It’s just so good to see you again, Kit. I guess I got a little carried away.”

“No harm done,” she replied in a calmer, slightly conciliatory tone as she took another step away from him. Not quite able to meet his gaze, she added, “You just caught me off guard.”

She didn’t want to cause any more of a scene in front of Winifred Averill and the other locals than she already had. Nor did she want to behave toward Simon in an overtly hostile manner. She couldn’t afford to make an enemy of him until she knew exactly why he’d returned to Belle.

“I apologize,” he said meekly enough, though his smile was wholly unrepentant. “It’s just so good to see you again. Are you helping out at the diner for the summer, or just making a quick visit home?”

Doing her best to ignore the obvious appreciation in his bright blue eyes as he looked her up and down, not to mention her own womanly response to him, Kit considered instead the question he’d asked. Hadn’t Simon heard about her mother’s death? And if he didn’t know about Dolores’s death, was it possible he didn’t know about Lucy’s death, either?

It was, Kit realized. His parents traveled a lot, especially during the winter months. In fact, she couldn’t remember seeing them around town much after the holidays. Although she had run into Mitchell Gilmore at the hardware store about a week ago, and she’d had Nathan with her then.

Never one to believe in coincidence, Kit had to fight the urge to look over at the playpen sitting in a corner near the counter. Instead she directed her gaze Simon’s way, trying not to seem either completely welcoming or unwelcoming toward him.

“I’m here for the summer,” she said, then gestured to an empty table, hoping to ward off any more questions. He could catch up on the latest news when he got to the Double Bar S. “Why don’t you have a seat and take a look at the menu while I bring you some coffee?”

“I’d rather sit at the counter if you don’t mind.”

“Suit yourself.”

Kit shrugged and turned away, but not before she saw Simon’s smile fade, and a puzzled look replace the admiration that had brightened his brilliant blue eyes.

As he slouched onto one of the stools, Kit moved behind the counter. She still didn’t dare to risk a glance in Nathan’s direction for fear she would direct Simon’s interest that way, as well. She couldn’t hide the little boy from him forever, but there was no sense doing anything to stir the pot any sooner than absolutely necessary.

“What can I get for you?” she asked, adopting a matter-of-fact tone.

“Coffee, please,” he requested, then added with the barest hint of sarcasm, “but only if it isn’t too much trouble.”

“No trouble at all,” Kit replied.

Taking the coffeepot from the warmer, Kit remembered guiltily that she’d said the same thing to Winifred Averill and had yet to refill the elderly woman’s cup. But then, Mrs. Averill had probably been so entertained by Kit’s exchange with Simon that she hadn’t even noticed.

“Do you want to order breakfast, too?”

Trying to sound a little friendlier, she set a sturdy white china mug on the counter. She wanted Simon out of the diner as soon as possible, but she was afraid that she’d rouse his suspicion if she acted too much out of character.

“No, thanks. Just coffee will do. I’m expected at the ranch before noon, but I couldn’t drive through town without stopping here first.” He paused a moment and looked around the diner, a thoughtful expression on his face. “This place sure does bring back a lot of good memories.”

“I’m sure it does,” Kit agreed, unable to avoid injecting a note of sarcasm into her tone.

Turning away, she grabbed the handle of a freshly brewed pot of coffee and a couple of packets of creamer. She tossed the packets on the counter and tipped the pot to fill Simon’s mug.

At the same instant, Nathan let out a mighty squall of discontent, signaling that he’d had just about as much time in the playpen as he could handle. Startled, Kit splashed hot coffee on the counter, barely missing Simon’s hand. A moment of silence settled over the diner, followed by a ripple of laughter among the customers still left there, most of whom were used to Nathan’s occasional and understandable demands for attention.

“Sorry,” Kit murmured, taking a damp cloth from under the counter.

As she mopped up the mess she’d made, she watched Simon surreptitiously from under her lowered lashes. He had been as startled as she by the child’s cry, and quite naturally he had looked over at the playpen, seeming to notice it for the first time since he’d sat at the counter.

Initially, the expression on his face was one of curiosity. But then his features shifted, reflecting surprise, and then genuine confusion.

It was one thing to see a little boy standing in a playpen, in a place where you’d never seen one in the past, waving a teddy bear at you. It was something else altogether to see a little boy with silky black curls and brilliant blue eyes—a little boy who was, obviously and undeniably, a much smaller, much younger image of your very own self.

Kit clutched the coffee-soaked cloth in both hands, now staring openly at Simon as the color drained from his face. He made a sound, low in his throat and unintelligible to her ears. Finally he shifted his gaze to her once again. Still seemingly bewildered, he stared at her wordlessly for several interminable seconds.

To Kit, the resemblance between father and son was impossible to miss. Yet Simon didn’t seem to get the connection. Or maybe he just didn’t want to get it, she thought with a hot flash of anger.

“So, Kit, you’ve had a new addition to your family?” he asked at last, an odd croak in his voice as he gestured in Nathan’s general direction.

“In a way, yes,” Kit replied, barely managing to hide her annoyance.

He had to be in deep denial to think Nathan was her biological child. That kiss on the lips he’d given her a few minutes ago was the closest she had ever gotten to having sex with him. How could he possibly think she’d produced a child who looked just like him?

“The little boy in the playpen is your son, then,” he said, visibly relaxing as he sat back on his stool.

“He is now.”

“What do you mean by that? Is he your son or isn’t he?” Again, Simon seemed confused and just a little exasperated.

Her anger flaring once more, Kit directed a hard look Simon’s way. He just didn’t get it—more likely didn’t want to get it. But eventually he would, now that he was back in town.

Though Lucy had never broadcast the identity of Nathan’s father, once Nathan had begun to develop distinctive features it was clear that the baby could, in fact, be Simon’s. It wouldn’t take long for someone to yank Simon out of his blissful, self-indulgent ignorance. Disgusted as she was with him, Kit didn’t see any reason why she shouldn’t be that someone.

“Nathan is my son now,” she said again. “But Lucy Kane was his birth mother. Unfortunately, she was killed in an automobile accident at the end of February. I’m his legal guardian and I’ve been taking care of him ever since.” She took a deep breath, trying to shake the nervous quiver from her voice. “I’ve also taken the necessary steps to adopt him, and according to my attorney, Isaac Woodrow, the court will likely approve my petition within the next few weeks.”

“That little boy is Lucy Kane’s son?” Simon repeated slowly.

His astonishment was more than evident as his gaze shifted from Kit to Nathan, then back to Kit again. She doubted he had heard what she’d said about the adoption.

“Yes, he’s Lucy’s son.”

“But Lucy was killed in an automobile accident in February?”

Simon repeated her words yet again, appearing to be even more stunned.

“She was out late at night, heading home from a party at a house on Flat Head Lake. Her car hit a patch of black ice. She skidded off the road and hit a tree.

Simon looked as if he’d been dealt a physical blow. His face paled even more as he gripped the counter with both hands. Undeniable anguish shadowed his vivid blue eyes. He seemed to be not only stunned, but also badly shaken as his gaze shifted to Nathan yet again.

He tried to speak and failed. Then, without another word to Kit, he pushed away from the counter, turned on his heel and strode to the front door of the diner. He paused there, head bent and shoulders slumped, his hand on the knob. Finally, he glanced back at Nathan one last time. Then he opened the door and walked out.

Kit wasn’t sure how she had expected Simon to respond to her revelations. Listening to the echo of the door slamming shut, she knew only that the pain shadowing his gaze in those last moments before he’d left hadn’t been feigned. In fact, the honesty of his anguish had taken her totally and completely by surprise.

She had already acknowledged the possibility that he hadn’t heard about Lucy’s death. And considering his past history with her, Kit had assumed the news would cause him at least a small measure of dismay. But the look on his face had revealed a much deeper torment.

How could that possibly be when he had abandoned Lucy almost three years ago, then hadn’t shown the least bit of interest in her welfare or that of his child any time since?

In fact, Simon’s reaction had been more in line with that of a man who had not only just discovered that he had a son, but also that the love of his life had died. That level of devastation didn’t make the least bit of sense to Kit. She knew that Lucy had told Simon she was pregnant. Lucy had said as much to Kit three years ago. And instead of providing for Lucy and the baby, Simon had left her to cope alone.

How could he now act like the injured party? It just didn’t make any sense.

And, of course, he would walk away without a single word of explanation. Although that particular response wasn’t quite as surprising to Kit as it could have been. He had walked away from his responsibilities once already, and he had stayed away three long years.

Only this time Kit had a feeling Simon Gilmore wasn’t going to disappear completely. There had been something about the look in his eyes before he’d finally left the diner that had warned her he would be back again. He would want to think before he acted, but when he acted—

“So the prodigal son has come back to town, and about time, too,” Winifred Averill said as she stepped up to the counter. “Can’t say I’m surprised. ’Course, he didn’t stick around here very long once he caught sight of the youngster, did he?”

“Not very long at all,” Kit agreed.

Drawn from her reverie, she tossed the damp cloth into the sink under the counter and crossed to the cash register to ring up the elderly woman’s bill.

“Sorry I never got back to your table with the coffeepot.”

“I didn’t really need any more caffeine. I’m jittery enough as it is. Anyway, you had your hands full.” Mrs. Averill chuckled as she dug her coin purse from the pocket of her denim jacket.

“Yes, actually I did.”

“I expect he’ll be back soon enough. Best you be prepared,” the elderly woman advised with a knowing look, as she paid her bill.

The ding of the bell over the diner’s front door as Winifred turned away from the counter had Kit looking up with apprehension. She knew she would have to face Simon again eventually, but she had hoped it wouldn’t be quite so soon.

To her relief, it was Bonnie Lennox, her friend and part-time waitress, who sailed into the diner, her blond curls bouncing on her shoulders, her brown eyes bright and cheerful.

“Hello, all,” Bonnie called out.

The few remaining customers sent out a chorus of greetings, while Mrs. Averill gave her a friendly pat on the arm as she passed by on her way out. Kit shot her friend a grateful smile, then crossed to the playpen, scooped Nathan into her arms and gave him a hug.

“Busy morning?” Bonnie asked as she grabbed a red apron from the hook just inside the kitchen doorway and tied it over her denim skirt and navy T-shirt.

“Not too bad. How was Allison’s graduation?”

“She looked so cute in her little cap and gown, and she won an award for best artwork.” Bonnie’s grin couldn’t have been any prouder, but then a worried frown creased her forehead as her expression turned serious. “I thought I saw Simon Gilmore sitting in a black SUV parked at the curb half a block down the street. Were my eyes deceiving me, or has he dared to show his handsome face in town again?”

“Oh, he’s definitely back in town. In fact, he was just in the Dinner Belle a few minutes ago,” Kit said.

“And?” Bonnie prompted, eyeing Kit with obvious dismay.

“He didn’t know about Lucy.”

“Did he see Nathan?”

“Yes, he saw Nathan, but he seemed really…shocked. Like he didn’t know his own son existed.”

“How could that possibly be?”

“I don’t honestly know. But the way he acted today didn’t jibe at all with the way Lucy said he acted three years ago.”

“What did he say?” Bonnie asked.

“Not a lot,” Kit replied. “Mostly he just asked questions. He seemed surprised by my answers, too. Very surprised. But he didn’t offer an explanation of any kind. He just got up and left without a word.”

“Do you think he’ll cause a problem with Nathan’s adoption?”

“I don’t know,” Kit answered, averting her gaze as she headed back to the kitchen, Bonnie trailing after her in sympathetic silence.

Only she had a feeling—a bad feeling—that she did know, and what she knew had her holding on to Nathan just a little tighter and with a lot more anxiety than she ever had before.