Читать книгу Her Secret, His Baby - Tanya Michaels - Страница 11

Chapter Two

Six months later

Justin Cade shuddered at the brochures on the kitchen table. “I will paint nursery walls, I will assemble the crib, I might be wheedled into a few hours of babysitting once the peanut is born, but no way in hell am I attending birth classes with you.” Then he flashed his trademark grin, a mischievous gleam in his blue-green eyes. “Unless you think there will be a lot of single women attending?”

Arden ignored the question. He’d already proven he wasn’t comfortable dating a single mom. Justin, the middle Cade sibling, had raised casual dating to an art form and steered clear of women with complicated lives. The ski patrolman didn’t like being stuck in a relationship any more than he liked being stuck indoors.

Thank God he’s a more dependable brother than he is a boyfriend. “I didn’t pull out the brochures to show you, dummy. I’m going to ask Layla to be my labor coach. She’s coming over for dinner in a couple of hours.”

Back in June, when the “first trimester” nausea Arden had thought would disappear actually intensified, she’d hired a temporary assistant to keep up with the administrative side of the studio. High school Spanish teacher Layla Green had been happy to make some extra money over the summer. The women’s friendship continued to grow even though Layla had quit to prepare for the new school year.

“Layla, huh?” Justin crossed the small kitchen to pour another glass of iced tea. He frequently joked that the desert theme of her red-and-yellow kitchen made him extra thirsty. “She’s good people. Cute, too.”

“Hey! We’ve talked about this. You are not allowed to date my friends. Your one-hit-wonder approach to relationships would make things awkward for everyone. I was even a bit nervous when Natalie...” She trailed off, the memories bittersweet.

The sharp sting of missing her best friend had lessened over time. As Arden progressed through the trimesters, she found herself thinking of Natalie as a kind of guardian angel for her and the unborn baby. After losing so many loved ones in her life, it seemed cosmically fitting that Arden had conceived on Nat’s birthday.

“You wondered if it would hurt your friendship when Natalie and Colin first started dating?” Justin asked. “To be honest, I thought the age difference would be a problem, that they wouldn’t have enough in common for it to be long-lasting. But she made him damn happy.”

While Arden was finally healing after the deaths of her sister-in-law and young nephew, Colin had withdrawn further. Not only had he taken a sabbatical from his job as a large-animal vet, but he’d also recently announced that he was putting his house up for sale.

She leaned an elbow on the table, propping her chin on her fist. “I’m really worried about him.”

“Colin will be okay.” But the way Justin avoided her gaze proved he was equally concerned. “He’s always okay. He’s the one who holds us together.”

Their mother had died the winter Arden was in kindergarten, their father a few years later. Although a maiden aunt had come to live with them, it had been Colin who had essentially raised his younger brother and sister. He’d been so strong. But this most recent shattering loss—burying his wife and child? It seemed as if something inside him had broken beyond repair.

Justin dropped down next to Arden’s chair, squeezing her shoulder. “He will be okay. Maybe selling the house will help him let go, give him a chance to move forward with his life.”

Arden placed her hands over her distended abdomen. “Do you think this makes it harder, my having a baby? I’m sure it reminds him of Danny.” Her voice caught on her nephew’s name. He’d been a wide-eyed, soft-spoken toddler with an unexpectedly raucous belly laugh. His deep laugh had caused double takes in public, usually eliciting chuckles in response.

“If you’re happy about Peanut, then we are happy for you,” Justin said firmly. “But if you want to offer Colin some kind of distraction, I’m sure he’d be eager to track down the jerk who knocked you—”

“Justin!”

“The jerk responsible for your being in a blessed family way.”

“He wasn’t a jerk. He was...” A gift. Even after six months, she vividly recalled Garrett’s ability to make her temporarily forget everything else in the world, the power of his touch.

Justin recoiled with a grimace. “Seeing that look on my little sister’s face is disturbing as hell. You sure you won’t tell us who he is so we can punch his lights out?”

“He doesn’t live anywhere near here.” Thank God. Most of the locals hadn’t been brazen enough to ask outright who the father was, but the mystery had caused whispers behind her back. Some of the teachers in the district had begged Layla for information, but Arden—who’d shared only the vaguest details—had sworn her to secrecy. The first time Arden had encountered Hugh Connor in town after her pregnancy began to show, she’d held her breath, wondering if Garrett had ever mentioned their night together to his friend. But Hugh had merely asked for a business card because he planned to recommend her to a business colleague looking for a good photographer.

Meanwhile, Garrett lived in a different region of the state, on a ranch he’d told her had been in his family for generations. He had deep roots there. Maybe even a girlfriend by now. Arden didn’t plan to repay the kindness he’d done her by upending his existence. They’d used birth control during their night together, and the news that it had failed would most likely be an unwelcome shock.

It had taken her weeks to process the news that she was expecting, but she knew firsthand that life was precious. She chose to see conceiving this baby as a miracle. Her miracle.

* * *

GARRETT FROST HELD his parents in the highest regard. An only child, he worked alongside his father running the Double F Ranch and was impressed with the man’s drive and integrity. Garrett’s mother, the one who’d spent many afternoons giving him advice in their kitchen while she baked, had always been wise and articulate. So why, today, had Caroline Frost lost the ability to string together a coherent sentence? Ever since the restaurant hostess had seated Garrett and Caroline at a small booth, she’d been spluttering disjointed, half-finished thoughts.

“Breathe, Momma.” He took the breadbasket out of her hand. As jittery as she was, she was about to send the rolls flying to the floor. He gave her a cajoling smile. “You wanna tell me why you’re as nervous as a kitten in a dog pound?”

Her gray eyes clouded with worry. “You’ve always hated surprises,” she muttered. “Not that it’s your fault if you take this badly! Anyone would.... I don’t— Lord, I’ve messed this up before I even started. But I don’t know how to make it better. Easier to hear.”

Okay. Now he was nervous. Garrett waved away the approaching waitress. Something was very wrong. He doubted his mom wanted an audience for whatever she needed to explain. Although, if she had something personal and difficult to tell him, why had she suggested going to a restaurant?

They could have easily had a conversation in his parents’ main house or in the luxurious cabin Garrett had built on the back forty. The most logical explanation for her dragging him this far from home was so they could speak freely without any risk of his father overhearing. Was something wrong with him? Long, arduous days of ranch work could take a toll, and Brandon wasn’t getting any younger. But his father was direct to a fault. If there was bad news to be delivered, he would have told Garrett himself, not delegated the job to someone else.

“Momma, is everything all right with you?” he asked slowly. “Is there some irregular test result or something I should know about?”

“With me? I’m fit as a fiddle.” But she’d gone completely pale.

“Oh, God. Then it is Dad?”

Caroline did something he hadn’t witnessed since the day of his high school graduation. She burst into tears. “No. And y-yes. Your father’s quite ill. B-but it’s not wh-wh-what you think.” Taking deep gulping breaths, she clutched the edge of the table in a visible effort to regain her composure. “I’m so sorry. Brandon isn’t your father.”

* * *

GARRETT PUNCHED UP the volume on the music in his truck, but it was pointless. Not even the loudest rock and roll could drown out his tumultuous thoughts. He pounded his fist on the steering wheel, rage rising in him like a dark tide. Tangible enough to drown him.

For the first day after his mother’s avalanche of revelations, he’d been too numb to feel anything. Once emotion rushed in, he’d realized he had to get away from the ranch. Away from her. She’d had thirty years to tell the truth but had never said a word—not to him and not to the man he’d always believed was his father. Now she’d made Garrett an unwilling accomplice in keeping her adulterous secret. “I swear it was only the one time,” she’d sobbed. “A lifetime ago. Confessing my sins to Brandon might ease my conscience, but why wound him like that?”

Her single indiscretion had been with a longtime family friend, recently hospitalized Will Harlow. Complications from Will’s diabetes had irreparably damaged his kidneys. Though his condition was currently stable, renal failure was inevitable. Without a kidney transplant, his prognosis was grim. Caroline insisted they couldn’t tell Brandon now. “If Will died with animosity between them, your father would never forgive himself!”

How had Brandon remained oblivious to the truth for all these years? He was an intuitive man. Certainly perceptive enough that he would notice the awful tension between his wife and son. So Garrett impulsively announced that he was spending Labor Day weekend with Hugh Connor.

“I don’t know exactly when I’ll be back,” Garrett had warned his dad. “With calving season behind us and time before we need to make winter preparations, can you spare me?”

Brandon had readily agreed that he and their hired hands could cover everything, adding that Garrett didn’t seem himself and maybe a week of R & R was just what the doctor ordered. Garrett’s sole motivation had been escape; he hadn’t consciously chosen Cielo Peak as his destination. Had he named the town because he knew it wouldn’t sound suspicious, his visiting an old friend?

Or was he lured by the heated memories of a glorious night spent with Arden Cade?

Their encounter had left such an impression it was haunting. She appeared in his dreams at random intervals. He’d developed a fondness for brunettes and had caught himself unintentionally comparing a date to her. Over the summer, while packing for an annual weekend with some cousins, he’d discovered Arden’s note stuck to the lining of his suitcase. I’ll never forget you. Was that sentiment invitation enough to look her up while he was in town?

She was a beautiful woman, and over six months had passed. Even if she still resided in Cielo Peak, there was likely a man in her life. Unless, like Garrett, she was between relationships? Maybe he could casually broach the subject with Hugh.

When Garrett had phoned his friend, it had been to ask for suggestions of a not-too-touristy rental cabin that wouldn’t already be booked for the holiday weekend. He hadn’t actually planned to stay with Hugh and Darcy, who were practically newlyweds. Learning of his mom’s infidelity had soured Garrett’s opinion of wedded bliss, and he doubted he’d be great company. But Hugh was stubborn. Besides, Garrett secretly questioned whether too much time alone with his thoughts was healthy. After all, he was having trouble surviving just the drive, battered by emotional debris from Caroline’s bombshell.

He fiddled with the radio dials again, trading his MP3 playlist for a radio station. A twangy singer with a guitar droned on about his misfortunes. You think you have problems, pal?

Garrett faced not only bitter disillusionment about the woman who raised him and unwilling participation in her long-term deception, but also a monumental medical decision.

Despite Caroline’s emphatic vows that her fling with Will was an isolated event, that they didn’t harbor any romantic feelings for each other, the man had never fallen in love with anyone else. He’d remained a bachelor with no children. Garrett was his best hope for a close match and voluntary organ donation, which would drastically shorten the wait.

“I know you need to think about this,” his mother had told him. “No one wants you to rush a decision.” But they both knew Will didn’t have forever.

If Garrett agreed, would he feel as if he were betraying his father? If he said no, was it the same as sentencing a man to die?

He was mired in anger and pain and confusion. Little wonder, then, that his mind kept turning to that night he’d shared with Arden, the perfect satisfaction he’d experienced. Right now, it was difficult to imagine he’d ever feel that purely happy again.