by JoAnn Ross
Returning to the living room of the suite, she found that Matt had taken off his jacket and was sitting on the couch that held too many memories.
Without saying another word to him, she drank the tea, ate the unbuttered toast and even polished off the cinnamon-spiced oatmeal he’d added to her Spartan breakfast.
“I don’t normally eat breakfast,” she said, looking with some measure of surprise at the empty bowl.
“That’s why you’ve been getting sick. You should keep some crackers by the bed and eat them before you get up. Do you have asthma?”
She blinked at the seemingly swift change of subject. “No.”
“Good.” He pulled a pad out of a pocket of his denim shirt and began scribbling out a prescription. “These should help, too.” He put the piece of paper on the coffee table in front of her, along with some sample blister packs of medication.
She frowned at the small blue capsules. “I don’t want to take any medication.”
“That’s commendable. But you’re not helping the baby when you can’t keep anything down. They won’t hurt you.”
“You don’t know that. For certain.”
“Nothing’s for certain, but—”
“I’ll try the cracker therapy.” She smiled politely. “I’m sure that will do the trick.”
He shook his head, eyeing her with a mixture of frustration and admiration. “You really are one stubborn lady.”
“I prefer to think of it as tenacious.”
“You argue a lot, too.”
“That’s funny, most people consider me charming. And agreeable.”
“Is that so?” He gave her another long look, then shrugged. “Maybe it’s the hormone swings.”
“Or maybe it’s because I don’t respond well to men trying to boss me around,” she countered sweetly. Although she had to admit that looking at him in those snug Wrangler jeans and denim shirt made her want to have her way with him—to drag him into the bedroom, or onto the floor for that matter—he really wasn’t her type. In fact, she informed him haughtily, he’d even begun to remind her of the General.
He laughed at that. A rich, deep sound she liked more than she could comfortably admit. He sat down beside her on the couch again.
“I just got back from a medical convention in Sydney, Australia,” he said.
“Oh?” So that’s where he’d been. Although she’d throw herself off the top of nearby Mt. Elbert before admitting it, Shiloh had been miffed by his disappearing act.
“People I hadn’t seen since last year kept asking me what was new in my life.” A ghost of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips. “There were a couple of times I was tempted to tell them that I’d met an angel and was about to become a father.”
The compliment, spoken so casually, should not have made her feel so good. But, heaven help her, it did. “I’m hardly an angel.”
“I’m finding that out for myself,” he agreed easily. “But I gotta tell you, sweetheart, you sure looked like one that night.”
Sweetheart. Even as the lifelong romantic’s heart quickened at the drawled endearment, the General’s daughter sternly reminded herself that it was merely a word to Matt. She’d heard him address at least three women—one who had to be in her eighties—the same way the night of the party.
“My parents were at the convention, as well,” he continued conversationally.
“I thought your father was retired.”
“He is. But he was there to receive a humanitarian award.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“Mom thought so. Pop was underwhelmed, but he’s never set much store in things like awards and trophies. He always said doctoring was a people business and they should save the plaques for insurance salesmen and car dealers.”
This time her smile was as warm as he remembered it. “He sounds sweet.”
Matt considered that for a moment. “I don’t know about sweet. But he’s a pretty good guy.” He took a breath and decided the time had come to drop his own little bombshell. “He’s also pretty keen on becoming a grandfather.”
“You told him about me? About us?”
“I didn’t have much choice, since you’ve decided to stay in Paradise,” he pointed out. “Besides, I would have told them anyway.”
“Terrific.” She leaned her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes. “I can’t wait to see them again.” She could just imagine how they must feel, discovering that the mother of their new grandchild had once played the role of a vixen possessed by the devil.
“I’m glad to hear that,” Matt said, conveniently overlooking her sarcasm. “Because you’re invited to Sunday dinner tomorrow afternoon.”
Her eyes popped open. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Believe me, Shiloh, I wish I were.” He shook his head. “I’m not that eager to undergo my grandmother’s third degree, either.”
“Grandmother?” Her voice rose several octaves. “Your grandmother knows, too?”
“She didn’t when our plane landed this morning. But I’d bet that by now she’s been filled in on the situation.”
Shiloh tried to remember if they had earthquakes in Colorado. She could really use one right now to swallow her up. Anything to avoid being put on display at a McCandless family dinner.
It was ironic, she thought, after Matt had left. After six years of playing the scarlet woman in movies, tomorrow she’d be playing the part for real.
The thought made Shiloh want to throw up again.
* * *
She needn’t have worried. Matt’s mother and father were as warm and friendly as they’d been when she’d first met them on New Year’s Eve. Within minutes of her arrival, Shiloh found herself alone in the kitchen with Catherine McCandless.
They exchanged small talk for a brief time, then Catherine got down to brass tacks. “How are you feeling?” she asked as she began peeling potatoes.
“I’m fine. Really,” Shiloh insisted when Matt’s mother gave her a disbelieving, sideways glance.
“Then you’re lucky. I was sick as a dog with Matt.”
“I’ve been a little nauseated.”
Catherine laughed at that. A bright, breezy sound that reminded Shiloh of silver bells. Although her memories of her mother were admittedly faint, she couldn’t recall ever hearing Margaret Beauregard laugh. “More than a little, I suspect, if you’re carrying a McCandless. My husband’s mother, Augusta, insists she had morning sickness the entire nine months. She even threw up on the delivery table.”
“You’ve no idea how that depresses me,” Shiloh said glumly.
“I felt the same way when Augusta told the story to me.” Catherine handed her a plastic bag of carrots and a peeler with a casualness that made Shiloh feel even more welcome. “But they have wonderful drugs now to take care of that.”
“Matt gave me some samples. But I don’t want to take anything.”
Instead of arguing, Catherine merely nodded. “It’s your child. You need to do what you feel is best. But remind me to give you some ginger tea before you leave. It’s wonderful for morning sickness.”
She smiled at Shiloh’s obvious surprise. “I have tremendous faith in the McCandless men and their miracle pharmaceuticals. But I’ve also studied alternative herbal medicine, and believe me, dear, our ancestors were no slouches when it came to healing.”
“Matt wasn’t real thrilled when I turned down his prescription,” Shiloh admitted.
“I’m not surprised. If you don’t mind a personal observation, everyone is immensely relieved that you’ve come back to town. My son has always been remarkably even tempered, but ever since you left town on New Year’s Day, he’s been decidedly out of sorts.”
Shiloh smiled. “Thank you for sharing that.”
Catherine smiled back. “You’re welcome, dear.”
As they worked together in the cozy, sunlit kitchen, Shiloh, who’d never experienced anything as ordinary as sharing cooking duties with her mother
, found the experience more than a little enjoyable.
Matt’s grandmother arrived precisely as the golden roast chicken was being placed on the table. “You’re a stunningly beautiful woman, Shiloh Beauregard,” she announced to one and all. “I can see why Matt finally took the tumble.”
“Tumble?” Shiloh asked.
“Grandmother,” Matt said at exactly the same time.
Augusta McCandless ignored his veiled warning. “There have been more women than you could shake a stick at trying to get my grandson to the altar. But he’s managed to dodge them all. Guess he was saving himself for you.”
An embarrassed little silence settled over the table. Catherine and Michael exchanged a brief look, Matt pretended a sudden interest in buttering his Parkerhouse roll, and Shiloh began tracing the floral design on the lace tablecloth with a fingernail.
“So,” Michael finally said, with a little too much enthusiasm, “that’s an interesting name you have, Shiloh. It’s like the battle, right?”
She could have kissed the man for changing the subject. “That’s right. My father is a Civil War buff. I’ve got a twin sister named Savannah.”
“Such pretty names,” Catherine said smoothly. “And original. Like their owners.” Once again the warm reassurance in her eyes settled Shiloh’s nerves. And her stomach.
“I’ve seen all your movies,” Augusta announced.
“You have?” all the people at the table responded in unison.
Augusta nodded her dark head. “I get one hundred seventy-five stations with my satellite dish. You’d be amazed at how many of them you show up on,” she told Shiloh. “You’re a pretty good actress. And you sure can scream the house down.”
“She’s a pretty good swooner, too,” Matt said. Shiloh knew she was in deep, deep trouble when the simple words of praise caused a rush of pleasure.
“That was the best part of Night Bites,” the elderly woman agreed. “But my favorite movie was Gentlewoman from Another Land. Where you played the seal woman.”
“You played a seal?” Matt looked at her with renewed interest.
“A silkie,” Shiloh elaborated. “From Celtic myth. They supposedly become partly human.”
“Of course, they’re so gorgeous and mysterious, the men want to keep them,” Augusta continued the explanation, “so the husbands hide their skins so they can’t return to the sea. The woman in the movie discovered hers after she’d given birth to twins.” She turned to Shiloh. “You did a bang-up job showing her dilemma of whether to return to her family in the sea, or to stay with her human one. Had me bawling like a baby.”
“Thank you.” Shiloh beamed at the praise for the one performance she’d hoped would catapult her into the role of a serious actress. Unfortunately, the distribution had been so limited that the film had gone unnoticed by the Hollywood elite.
The ice broken, the conversation flowed easily, allowing Shiloh to learn a lot about Matt. She discovered he’d been a junior rodeo bareback riding champion, which, she supposed, was part of the reason she kept thinking of him as a cowboy. She also learned he was valedictorian of his high school and made the dean’s list every semester in college, while playing shortstop for the UCLA Bruins baseball team. His favorite dinner was steak, his favorite dessert apple pie, and he preferred beer to champagne.
“Although,” he said, slanting Shiloh a wicked, sideways grin, “under the right circumstances, champagne can taste pretty good, too.”
Remembering him licking the wine off her body made her turn scarlet, and once again Shiloh was more than a little relieved when his mother changed the subject.
“Shiloh,” Catherine said thoughtfully, “I just had an idea I’d like to run by you. But I want you to feel free to turn me down.”
“All right.” Shiloh worried where this might be leading.
“I’m chairman of the local preservation society. We’ve been struggling to raise money to save the old Orpheum Theater, but it’s difficult to find something that will draw people from outside Paradise. What would you say to us putting on a Shiloh Beauregard film festival? A two-day event, perhaps—”
“It’s going to take more than two days, if you’re going to show all her movies,” Augusta broke in.
“Three days, then,” Catherine said, switching gears easily. “And perhaps you could give a short dinner talk about life in the movies? I realize you’ll need to think this over, but—”
“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Shiloh grinned. Eat your heart out, Woody Allen. “And I’d love to do it. Especially if it will help save a theater.”
“Of course she will,” Augusta said. “The girl’s got community spirit. Just like all the McCandless women.” She gave Shiloh a stern look that included Matt, who was sitting beside her. “I expect a beautiful, brilliant baby from you two.”
Matt didn’t exactly smile. But his lips twitched at the corners. “Yes, Grandma.” He took Shiloh’s hand beneath the tablecloth and squeezed.
Shiloh didn’t speak on the way to the hotel. She just kept reliving the surprisingly enjoyable dinner in her mind. When she’d first learned she was pregnant, she’d thought of the baby as hers alone. Then she’d broadened her view to include Matt. But now she realized how many lives were being touched by her pregnancy. The baby she was carrying would be a McCandless. It would come into this world with warmhearted grandparents and a wonderful, forth-right great-grandmother waiting to love it.
But it would also have Beauregard blood running in its veins. Which meant that it was time to call the General and break the news that he was going to be a grandpa.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Shiloh was relieved when she called the military academy and was told that the General had taken the senior cadet corps on a training exercise off the coast of Florida. Three weeks’ breathing room wasn’t much, but she’d take anything she could get.
Having grown up in the military, Shiloh was accustomed to fitting into new places, and she soon began to feel as if she’d lived in Paradise all her life. After she’d been working at the Silver Nugget for a month, she mentioned, during a conversation with the head guitarist for the band—Fletch’s brother, Kevin—that she’d written some country music. Immediately interested, he’d asked to see her work, and before she knew it, she was moonlighting as a songwriter for the Outlaws.
Rather than being standoffish, the people of Paradise welcomed her with open arms—a fact she attributed to Matt’s popularity—although she’d overheard more than one patron of the Silver Nugget grumble that Matt ought to just “marry the girl and make an honest woman of her.”
Not that Matt wasn’t proving supportive. He dropped by the hotel every evening to check on her, and on those nights when she wasn’t working, he’d buy her dinner in the hotel restaurant. He made the appointment for her with Dr. Susan Lucas, then surprised her by not only insisting on driving her to Aspen, but accompanying her into the doctor’s office to discuss her pregnancy. On the day of the ultrasound exam, Matt was also at her side.
“Looks as if it’s a boy,” the doctor said.
Matt leaned forward. Experienced with ultrasound images, he recognized the vital parts immediately. “It sure is.”
“A boy?” Shiloh squinted, trying to make out what the other two were seeing.
“Right here.” Matt was holding her hand. He used his free one to point out the baby. “See?”
“Oh!” Shiloh murmured, “Is that a—”
“It sure is,” Susan agreed. “And quite a nice one, too.”
Matt grinned wickedly. “Of course it is. We McCandless men have always been known for our—”
“Oh, my,” Susan interrupted him. “Look at this.”
Matt whistled. Shiloh felt his fingers tighten around hers. “What?” she asked, suddenly nervous. What if something was wrong with her baby?
“We’ve got a little girl.”
“Instead of a boy? But I thought—”
“Not instead,” Matt said.
Shiloh’s mouth went dry as comprehension sunk in. “Twins?”
“Got it on the first try.” Matt smiled down at Shiloh, his eyes filled with that same tender warmth she remembered from their night together. “We’re having a son and a daughter, Shiloh.”
Tears sprang to Shiloh’s eyes. This was too, too much.
Later, as they sat in Matt’s truck in the medical building parking lot, he turned toward her, his arm resting along the back of the bench seat, his fingers playing with the ends of her hair.
“Feeling better?”
Embarrassed at having wept at the news, Shiloh looked straight ahead out the windshield and nodded stiffly.
“You know, it’s not the end of the world,” he tried again. “Granted, twins are going to be double trouble, but people manage. And so will we.”
“It’s not that,” she murmured, still not looking at him.
He put a long finger beneath her chin and turned her head to his. “Then what’s wrong?” Other than the fact that she was now about to be an unwed mother of two, Matt thought, mentally blasting himself for being so insensitive.
“Nothing. No, really,” she insisted at his disbelieving look. “It’s just that all my life, whenever I thought about having children, I envisioned a little boy and a little girl. And now it’s coming true. Just as I dreamed.” Of course, in the dream, there’d always been a husband.
Matt watched the shadow drift across those expressive eyes, read the thought that was emblazoned on that lovely face and felt lower than a snake in a rut.
“So why don’t you just marry the girl?” everyone had been asking.
Although he knew that he had lots of legitimate answers to that question, right now, he couldn’t think of a single one.
* * *
When she’d first discovered she was pregnant, seven months had seemed very far off, but Shiloh was amazed at how fast the time flew. Of course, she was keeping busy, working with Catherine’s preservation society during the day and serving drinks at the Silver Nugget at night. She was also attending childbirth classes with Matt, who, running true to form, had insisted on being her coach, never mind the fact that Susan Lucas predicted he’d pass out in the delivery room.