Nesting in North Carolina

by Kirsten Osbourne

  She’d gotten around Archer noticing her clothes by asking Harper to take her into Asheville. She’d picked up three new pairs of jeans with no holes in them, four soft sweaters in pretty colors, new cute shoes, pajamas, socks, and underwear, and a new robe. Since she’d gone to an outlet store, the total was only two hundred and fifty dollars. She still felt guilty about the expense, but at least she could tell Archer that she didn’t need Lavinia’s help buying anything.

  Not that Archer noticed whether she was wearing new clothes or potato sacks. He was out of the house by half after five in the morning and didn’t usually get home until after ten o’clock. And as soon as he came through the door, they usually headed upstairs right away. Archer teased that they’d both waited so long for each other, they should make up for lost time every chance they got.

  Becca was in love with her husband. There was no doubt about that. And it was even starting to seem like he might love her back. They definitely had fun together, even if it was only at night.

  But, she thought in frustration, she hadn’t really spent enough time with him to find out. And she was going insane with boredom. She missed her family. She missed Emily. Spring was coming, and she wanted to see her side of the mountains, with all the rhododendrons in bloom. She wanted to show them to Archer.

  When he came home that evening, she was sleeping soundly on the couch. She woke to his warm hand caressing her cheek. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Busy day?”

  She laughed tiredly. Her day had consisted of baking a batch of cookies with Jackie and doing the weekly dusting. Hardly busy. She wasn’t sure why she was so sleepy—normally she had no problem waiting up for Archer. She held his hand as they climbed the stairs together, a warm feeling suffusing her chest. It was always so good to see him, especially when their time together was so brief. “I don’t know why I’m so tired,” she admitted. “I didn’t do much today.”

  He led her into the bedroom, and she sat down on the bed. The mattress sank under his weight as he settled beside her to undo her braid. It had become part of their nightly routine. He loved the feel of her hair beneath his fingertips. So silky and fragrant.

  “You’re not sick, are you?” he asked, suddenly concerned. Becca was so fair-skinned, but lately, he realized, she’d been even paler than usual.

  “Oh, no. Just tired. May I ask you for something?” Her sweet face was serious, and he felt a pang of dread. Their marriage had been perfect so far. Was something wrong?

  “Of course. Do you need money?” To his experience, money solved everything for everyone. Whenever any of his relatives came to him with a problem, a check always took care of the issue.

  “No. I was just wondering . . . well, hoping, really . . .” Becca twisted her fingers in her lap, playing with the ring that he’d placed there just a couple of months before. It seemed like they’d been together forever already, and it occurred to him that, whatever it was, he’d get it for her. Becca meant the world to him, and he didn’t want to remember how lost and lonely he’d been without her.

  “Whatever it is. Just tell me.”

  She raised her head, her blue eyes shining hopefully in the lamplight. “Can we go home? You and I? I want to spend time with you. I want you to get to know my family. Meet my friends. Show you the place I grew up. Just for a few days? A week, maybe?”

  Instantly, a denial sprang to his lips. He had a board meeting next Tuesday. He had an upcoming seminar to prepare for, and he was presenting. Hayes Investments was coming into the end of their fiscal quarter, not to mention that it was nearing tax time—their busiest season. He hadn’t said a word when her face fell.

  “Yes,” he found himself saying. Anything to put that enchanting smile back on her lips. “I’ll make the arrangements, and we’ll go on Monday.” It would mean a very long, work-packed weekend, for him, but he realized suddenly that he actually wanted to make this happen.

  “Really?” Becca’s face lit with joy, and she tackled him, knocking him backward on the bed and winding her arms on his neck while she rained kisses on his face. “I can’t wait! I want to see Granny Jones and my mom and dad, and you and Brody, Emily’s husband, will get along great. Maybe Emily’s baby will be born while we’re there,” Becca squealed. “Plus, I already checked the forecast. We can do some hiking—the weather’s supposed to be beautiful. Thank you!”

  Archer rolled her over so quickly she squealed, pinning her beneath him.

  “You, my wife, are too easy to please. Thank you.” And he proceeded to show her just how much she meant to him. Not in words, but in the only way he knew how.

  “’Bout time you brought my grandbaby to see me,” Granny Jones huffed. She smacked her cane down with a thump for emphasis and nearly took off Archer’s pinkie toe. He hugged her quickly and jumped backward, out of the range of the cane, but he wasn’t bothered by Granny’s antics.

  “You’re right,” he grinned. “Between all the work on my plate at the office and my demanding new wife, I just haven’t had a minute to myself, much less time to plan a getaway.”

  “Granny,” Becca hurried to placate the old woman. “Archer works so hard—you have no idea! Wait, what? I’m demanding?” She rounded on him, hands on her hips, but his eyes were sparkling with a teasing glint, and she huffed.

  Becca’s mom laughed. “You two certainly seem happy.”

  Her dad grunted in agreement. He was a man of few words, but he saw the happiness radiating from his daughter. If Archer put that glow on her face, that was good enough for him.

  Dinner capped off a wonderful first day of their vacation. Becca’s family were settled around the dinner table, the late afternoon sun shining in through her mom’s faded, but clean curtains, sipping after-dinner cups of coffee. Her brothers and Archer were deep in discussion about baseball, since opening day was approaching, and she grinned when the topic turned to cars. Her brothers wanted to drive Archer’s. They headed out to the driveway to be manly and talk about motors.

  Becca offered to help her mom clear the table. She’d worried that pot roast wouldn’t be good enough for Archer, but he’d cleaned his plate twice over and turned down thirds only because he said he was saving room for dessert—her mom’s famous caramel cake.

  “No, hon,” she’d said. “Keep your granny company. Your dad will help me.”

  Her dad grumbled good-naturedly but hefted himself to his feet and started clearing the table. Becca helped Granny Jones to the living room and her favorite chair and settled a patchwork quilt over her knees.

  “So, girlie,” her grandma cackled as soon as she was seated to her satisfaction, her eyes sharp on Becca’s face. “You didn’t waste any time, did you?”

  Becca cocked her head and sat down in the worn recliner beside her. “What do you mean?”

  “Gettin’ pregnant!”

  Becca bobbled her coffee cup so hard at that she sloshed a little bit of the hot liquid on her jeans. Granny just handed her a handkerchief and nodded knowingly.

  “You’ve got the look about you. I can always tell,” she added sagely. “My grandmother on my father’s side had a bit of the second sight.”

  It was true. Granny always predicted babies with amazing accuracy. Becca’s mind raced, calculating, as she sat back in her chair. She felt dizzy. Her periods were never what you’d call predictable, but now that she thought about it, her last one had been the week before her wedding. She’d been terrified at the time, afraid “Aunt Flo” wouldn’t leave town quickly enough and she’d end up having an embarrassing accident and ruin her wedding day. “Aunt Flo” hadn’t made an appearance since.

  “Took you by surprise, didn’t I? By my figuring, I should have a great grandbaby to dandle on my knee around about Christmas.” She beamed, showing off her gleaming white dentures. “Congratulations.”

  A baby? Becca’s heart thumped uncomfortably. She wanted children so badly, but now? She and Archer were just discovering what this marriage thing was all about. Was it such a good id
ea to throw a child into the mix? They could afford a houseful of babies . . . but, she thought with a pang, would she basically be a single mother? Archer worked so much. They could afford those babies financially, but she wasn’t sure their marriage could handle the weight of them! But Granny Jones was still watching her intently, so she pasted on a brilliant smile.

  “A baby is a blessing,” she decided. “And babies come on God’s time schedule. I was just surprised, is all. Please keep it a secret for a little while, though? I want to plan something special for when I tell Archer.”

  The rest of their time together in Tennessee flew by too quickly. The idea of being pregnant was always at the back of Becca’s mind. When they were hiking in her beloved Smoky Mountains, the rhododendrons blooming around them. When they were with Emily and Brody, admiring their small herd of Thoroughbreds. When they got a call later that night, at three a.m., that Emily was in labor and reached the hospital just in time to meet little Jennie Joy, an adorable, chubby-cheeked, wailing newborn with a shock of bright red hair.

  Becca plotted and planned. Maybe she’d do it on their last day of vacation? Ask Archer to take her to a fancy restaurant . . . no, that wasn’t her style. A picnic? She wished she knew if he wanted children, but they’d just never talked about it.

  She was still trying to decide on Thursday, when their vacation came to an abrupt end.

  Archer wanted to ignore the phone buzzing in his pocket, but he pulled the phone out and read the display out of habit. “Sorry,” he whispered apologetically to Becca. She just smiled distractedly, browsing through hand-sewn quilts and artfully designed coffee mugs at the artisan craft store he’d stopped at.

  The yelling on the other end of the phone gave him an instant headache. His mother. He took the call outside, listened to her ranting about him leaving work unattended and not letting her know. She broke the news that she had gone into the office and fired his secretary, since the girl had a “snippy attitude.” That made him angry but not too angry. She’d already fired Jessica three times before and never seemed to realize she was firing the same person. It had become sort of an in-office joke. He’d just call and offer her the job back, with a salary increase for her time and trouble. Jessica looked forward to being fired by his mother. He was sure she’d be laughing as she waited for him to hire her again.

  But when Lavinia, still a major shareholder in the company, had called a meeting of the board without him, his anger jumped to fury. She’d done it, she said, because of concerns that his recent marriage was affecting his job performance.

  “I’ll be home tomorrow,” he finally said, cutting her off mid-rant. “We’ll talk about this then.” He disconnected the call, feeling like throwing the phone to the ground and grinding it beneath the heel of his brand-new hiking boot.

  This week had been amazing. Archer was falling a little more for his sweet wife each day, and seeing her with her family and friends, comfortable in the little area of the mountains where she’d grown up, he felt like he was really getting to know her as a person.

  And now, he thought in disgust, going back into the shop to find Becca, he was going to have to cut their trip short. She was chatting quietly with the older woman behind the counter when he found her, and they both looked up from a pretty quilt spread over the counter when he approached.

  Becca’s eyes immediately went to his face, and he just managed to glimpse the hint of disappointment that crossed her features.

  “Duty calls?” she asked Archer, making an effort to keep her voice light. It was obvious from his face that the phone call hadn’t been a good one. She looked down and ran her fingers over the wedding ring quilt she’d fallen in love with. It would look incredibly out of place in her rich new surroundings, but she couldn’t help coveting it a little.

  “Yeah,” he grumbled. “I’m sorry, Becca.”

  “That’s all right,” she said, smiling at him. It wasn’t his fault. He looked so regretful. “I’m starting to miss Jackie’s cooking.”

  He put a strong arm around her and squeezed gratefully.

  “Does my wife want this quilt?” he asked the saleswoman, throwing a teasing smile at Becca.

  The saleswoman grinned at him widely, showing a space where a molar used to be. “I think she does, sir. It’s one of my best.” She raised her hands, gnarled with age and hard work. “And worth every bit of money I charge. Takes real effort to make these wedding ring quilts the old-fashioned way.”

  Over Becca’s protests, he told the woman to box up the quilt. “I’ll pay you three times what you’re charging,” he told her. “You do beautiful work.”

  He couldn’t give Becca the rest of the vacation he’d promised her, but if he could, he’d buy her the moon.

  Six

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” Archer said for maybe the fifth time as they pulled under the portico. The skies had opened up on their drive home, and the cloudy sky lit up briefly with a flash of lightning.

  “Don’t apologize,” Becca said. “I know how hard you work. And we did get four days away. I had a wonderful time.”

  Archer smiled at her tenderly and touched her cheek. “You’re so sweet and understanding.”

  Becca didn’t feel sweet at the moment, but she knew that she didn’t want to argue with her husband either. “Can I ask you for one more favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “Is there any way you’ll be home in time for dinner tonight? Around seven-ish? I have a surprise for you.”

  Archer grinned wickedly. “A surprise? Count on me. I’ll be home by seven.”

  He pulled her bags out of the trunk and set them in the foyer for her. Becca kissed him goodbye and stood under the overhang as she watched him drive away, sad that their “honeymoon” was officially over and exhausted now that she was back home. Her little red and white room was calling her.

  She kicked off her shoes and took her small bags upstairs. The house was quiet—Jackie wasn’t expecting them back for another few days, and they had given her the time off to go spend with her own family in Chattanooga.

  Her room soothed her as it always did, warm and welcoming and whimsical, with the feminine, pretty colors and the rain tapping gently against the glass. Archer teased her for insisting it was still hers, since she’d only spent one night in it, but having a place for herself was lovely after having shared a bedroom at home all her life, and she used it for the occasional nap or reading. Now, she spread the new wedding quilt across the bed. It had red and white in the pattern, and surprisingly, it fit right in with the room’s décor.

  Becca set an alarm on her phone and crawled into bed, pulling the beautiful quilt up to her ears. Being pregnant, she was starting to realize, meant being tired all the time, and it was heavenly just to relax. Moments later, lulled by the growl of thunder moving off to the distance, she was asleep, her hand cupped over her belly.

  Archer’s afternoon wasn’t nearly as peaceful as Becca’s. The closer he got to the office, the more he felt his shoulders tensing. He’d been able to put his business out of his mind for the last few days, but now, the stress was rolling back at him in waves. Why couldn’t his mother leave well enough alone? He’d been married to Becca more than two months now, and it was like she didn’t even acknowledge his marriage. She was still stopping by the office to stir things up, making snarky comments about his “ill-bred” wife . . . at least she’d stopped parading Harper in front of his nose. Who knew what the poor girl felt about his mom’s plotting. She never said a word. She wasn’t strong, like his wife.

  That thought gave Archer an uncomfortable feeling.

  Was his wife really strong? Dr. Lachele seemed to think she was, or she never would have matched them, but so far, his Becca seemed sweet and yielding. She never raised her voice. Never voiced a complaint. She always seemed to do what he asked of her without question . . . except drive the car he’d bought for her.

  Archer chuckled as he turned into the driveway of Hayes Investments. He knew she
hadn’t driven it. There were only sixteen miles on the odometer. Of course, he noticed she moved it around. One day it would be parked in the detached three-car garage. Another day it would be in the driveway. But it was obvious the little Mini Cooper had never left the property. Becca was unused to a life of luxury. She’d adjust eventually.

  Thoughts of Becca were pushed out of his mind as soon as he entered the building. His secretary—hired back already—met him at the doors with a worried expression and a handful of phone messages. From there, it was a downward spiral.

  Lavinia had been very busy while he was gone.

  He spent two hours on the phone just placating the other shareholders. Yes, he was back from vacation. No, he wasn’t planning on abandoning his place as CEO and moving to Idaho. Yes, he was still fully capable of running the multimillion-dollar company, and no, being married hadn’t caused him to “go soft.”

  An emergency board meeting was scheduled for five o’clock, and Archer’s head was pounding by four. He was on his fourth cup of coffee when his cousin Derek showed up, full of bluster and swagger. Derek didn’t bother to knock, but then, he never did.

  “Hey, Arch,” Derek drawled, sinking down into a chair across from Archer’s desk and crossing one leg casually. He was tall and handsome, dark haired like most of the Hayes family, and spoiled rotten. “I heard your mama’s been sounding the war drums.”

  “What do you need, Derek?” Archer asked tiredly. “I’ve got my hands full here.”

  “Why don’t you just hand everything over to me, cousin? Did you hear I just finished up my degree? I can take over the family biz, and you can run off and enjoy your backwoods bride.”