by Gina Wilkins
“Good to meet you, too, Stuart.” Tate had forgotten to ask Kim if her stepfather and her brothers had been told the truth about her marital status; judging by Betsy’s words to her younger son, Stuart, at least, was still in the dark.
The teen nodded, then redirected his attention to his computer.
Betsy sighed in exasperation, and turned to Tate with a little moue of apology. “Stuart’s not much of a talker, I’m afraid. But I’m sure he’s delighted to welcome you to the family.”
Tate shared a baffled look with Kim. “Um. Okay.”
Sounds from the doorway announced the arrival of the final two members of the family. Tate summed up the newcomers in a sweeping glance. Bob Shaw was a meek-looking man in his late forties with thinning, sandy hair, a ruddy face, a potbelly and a warm smile. Julian was of medium height and weight, somewhere in his mid-twenties, dressed in a red T-shirt and jeans.
Of Betsy’s three offspring, Julian Cavanaugh bore the strongest resemblance to their mother. Dark blond hair spilled over his forehead, dipping into eyes the same clear blue as Betsy’s. Kim and Stuart must have inherited their brown eyes from their fathers. Tate couldn’t say whether Julian’s smile, as well as his coloring, resembled his mother’s. The way the guy was scowling now, it was hard to picture him smiling at all.
Betsy slipped a hand beneath her husband’s elbow. “We’re all here now. Isn’t this lovely? Bob, Julian, this is Kimmie’s husband, Tate Price the Third. And look how much our little Daryn has grown since the last photographs I showed you. Isn’t she adorable?”
Bob kissed Kim’s cheek, tickled Daryn, then stuck out a hand to Tate. “It’s nice to finally meet you—Trey, is it?”
“Tate,” he corrected. “I’ve decided I prefer to be called that.”
Betsy giggled softly in response to his quote of her, and he winked at her.
Bob nodded knowingly. “Thanks for coming with Kim to the reunion, Tate. It means a lot to Betsy.”
Apparently, Bob was in on the secret. “My pleasure.”
Julian eyed Tate with open suspicion. “Took you long enough to get around to meeting us. This is the first time Kim’s been home since you got married.”
So Betsy had lied to both of her sons. As amused as he was by the woman, Tate could understand why Kim had wanted to put some space between herself and her wacky mom. It had to be both frustrating and exhausting to try to keep up with Betsy’s whims and schemes.
Kim didn’t make it necessary for Tate to come up with a response to Julian’s accusation. “That’s not Tate’s fault. I’ve been very busy. Between my work and the baby, I’ve had very little free time. This long weekend is the closest I’ve come to a vacation since the last time I saw you.”
“That was at the reception for Mom and Bob,” Stuart mumbled without looking up from his computer. “It was the day after my fifteenth birthday. We were going to have a cake for me at the reception but no one remembered to order one.”
He didn’t sound particularly resentful, Tate decided. More matter-of-fact, as though he were accustomed to being overlooked. Tate wondered if Stuart, too, would separate himself from his family as soon as he felt comfortable being on his own. It sounded as though Julian came around somewhat more often than Kim now that he’d gotten out of the service, but from what he’d observed thus far, Tate certainly didn’t fault Kim for her different choice.
If Betsy even heard Stuart’s comment, she gave no sign. Instead, she patted Bob’s arm and said, “Sweetie, why don’t you help Tate bring in their bags and show him to their room? The boys and I will catch up with Kim and Daryn until you get back.”
Tate looked at Kim with a slightly lifted eyebrow, but she nodded for him to go ahead. As he followed Bob from the room, it occurred to him that he and Kim would be sharing a room for the night. Of course her family would assume they shared a bed—besides, he doubted there would be an unfilled bedroom with the whole family here.
Bob seemed to follow the direction of his thoughts. “There are three bedrooms upstairs,” he explained, motioning toward the staircase on their way out. “Ours and Stuart’s and the guest room. Julian has an apartment not far from here, so he’ll be sleeping there tonight. Betsy said you were bringing a portable crib for the baby?”
Remembering seeing the folded crib in the large trunk, Tate nodded. Daryn would bunk in the same room with them like a teeny-tiny chaperone, but it could still be awkward. He’d just have to do his best to put Kim at ease, even if it meant sleeping on the floor himself.
“There’s a lot of stuff,” he said, opening the back of the car. “I’ll probably have to make a couple of trips. It’s amazing how many supplies one little baby requires for only a weekend.”
Bob chuckled. “I remember.”
In response to Tate’s questioning look, he explained, “I’ve got two kids of my own, both college-age now. They live with their mother, my ex-wife, in Texas, but I see them quite often.”
“They won’t be here this weekend, then?”
“No, they haven’t exactly bonded with Betsy’s family.” He sighed lightly and gave a little shake of his head. “Can’t really blame them for that.”
Giving Tate a rueful little shrug, he reached into the car and pulled out the travel crib and a heavy bag. “My in-laws are…complicated. It’s no wonder my poor Betsy has to resort to rather extreme measures when dealing with them.”
“Like inventing a husband for her daughter, you mean?”
“Well, yes. I must say, you’re being a good sport about all of this.”
Tate shrugged. “Just helping out a friend.”
“Is that all you and Kim are? Friends? Because when you smiled at her, I thought maybe…”
Scooting around the older man, Tate grabbed a couple of bags and hefted them out of the car. “We should get these things inside. Kim might need something for the baby.”
Bob took the hint immediately. Hefting his own load a bit higher, he turned toward the house. “I’ll help you get the rest on the next trip.”
Rather relieved, Tate followed with his own armload. The one thing he did not want to do before spending a night in the same bedroom with Kim was to overanalyze his feelings about her.
* * *
“Well?” Betsy demanded of her sons almost the minute Bob and Tate left the room. “What do you think of your brother-in-law? Didn’t I tell you he was a great guy?”
Kim sighed and gave her mother a chiding look over Daryn’s head. She saw no need to keep lying to her half brothers about this fake marriage—not that there was really any need for Betsy to lie to anyone about it, but especially not her own sons. At least she seemed to have told Bob the truth.
Still reluctant to humiliate her mother publicly, Kim vowed to draw her aside at the first possible opportunity and request that they find a way to let Julian and Stuart in on the secret. Maybe they could just call it a big joke on the rest of the family.
“He seemed okay.” Stuart answered his mother’s question with a shrug, again without looking up from his screen. “Better than I expected, I guess.”
What was that supposed to mean?
Before Kim could ask for clarification, Julian spoke up. “Seems kind of cocky to me. Just because he’s an architect or whatever doesn’t mean he’s any better than the rest of us.”
“Tate isn’t an architect, he’s a landscape designer. A very talented one,” Kim correctly mildly, though she felt her defenses rise in response to the criticism.
Stuart shot a look at their mother. “You told me, too, that he was an architect.”
Was the game already over? Whatever else they might be, her brothers weren’t dumb, and they’d already been taken aback by the apparent name change. Kim figured there was no way her mother was going to be able to cover all the fa
brications she’d told them.
Betsy gave a sad sigh, and for a moment Kim thought her mother was actually going to come clean.
She should have known better.
“That was my mistake.” Looking somewhat mournfully toward Kim, Betsy explained, “When Kim mentioned that Trey—I mean, Tate—was a landscape designer, I thought she meant an architect. I can be so scatterbrained sometimes.”
When everyone merely nodded in response to that comment, she added, “I would have been corrected much sooner if my daughter ever found time to call—or better yet, to actually visit her mother occasionally.”
Both her brothers looked at her somewhat reproachfully, and Kim scowled. All of a sudden, it was all her fault? How did Betsy keep getting away with these antics?
“Look,” she said firmly, “there’s something you need to—”
“So you married a gardener, not an architect?” Julian nodded in satisfaction, as if that explained something that had puzzled him. “That makes more sense.”
Her frown deepened. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged. “Well, it just seemed odd that you’d be married to a successful architect and still be working all the time, rather than staying home with your daughter. I figured Mom had exaggerated some about your husband’s financial success, but now I get it.”
“You get what?” Kim asked, studying him through narrowed eyes.
Looking back down at his computer, Stuart mumbled, “He’s saying you’re probably supporting the guy while he plays around at being a ‘landscape designer.’”
Kim gasped in response to Stuart’s cynical translation. Before she could make an indignant response, Julian spoke again. “I figured something had to be keeping him around. You make pretty decent money as an occupational therapist, don’t you?”
Kim had to clamp down on her tongue with her teeth to stop herself from saying things that were entirely inappropriate for her daughter’s tender ears. She reminded herself that twenty-four-year-old Julian had recently been through an ugly divorce and was probably still bitter about it. Following their mother’s repeated examples, he’d rushed into an impetuous, infatuation-based marriage, and it had been no surprise to anyone when the union ended in flames. Grandma Dyess had not offered her ring to the couple.
Still, Julian’s resentment and disillusion was no excuse for him to attack her—and especially not Tate, who’d done nothing at all to deserve this level of cynicism.
She made herself speak with icy dignity. “I work because I love my job, and I’m good at it. As for Tate, he has a degree in urban horticulture and landscape design, and the business he and his partner established in Little Rock is doing very well. They’re in growing demand, and they’ve already made quite a reputation for themselves in both residential and commercial circles. I’m very proud of what they have accomplished in a relatively short time.”
“Why, thanks, honey. I’m proud of you, too.”
Hearing Tate’s amused drawl from behind her, Kim looked around with a strained smile. She hadn’t intended for him to overhear, of course, but she had spoken quite honestly. She was impressed with how hard Tate and Evan had worked to establish their business, and with the success they had enjoyed thus far.
“We’ve brought in everything from the trunk,” he said. “Is there anything else in the car I should grab?”
“No, that’s all, thanks.”
Daryn was beginning to fuss and chew her fist, which made a perfect excuse to escape for a while. “If you’ll all excuse me, I’m going to feed Daryn. Tate, would you mind bringing her bag for me?”
She nodded toward the large, flowered bag sitting on the floor beside the diaper bag. She was capable of carrying both bags and her daughter, but she didn’t want to leave Tate alone to her family’s mercies.
“Of course.”
“Do you need help?” Betsy made the offer rather vaguely, and Kim wasn’t surprised that her mother didn’t argue when assured that her assistance was not required.
The cheery, yellow-and-white kitchen sat at the back of the house, with a big window over the sink overlooking a nice-size backyard planted with more colorful flowers and an inviting patio designed for entertaining. Kim took in the details at a glance, then turned to Tate, who stood behind her, smiling sympathetically.
“Deep breath,” he advised.
She filled her lungs and let the air out slowly, but the exercise did little to relieve her irritation.
“I was thinking my brothers deserved to be told the truth,” she said in a low voice. “Maybe I’ve changed my mind. Judgmental brats.”
“You looked annoyed when I came in. I heard you defending my business to them. I appreciate what you said, but you know you really don’t have to leap to my defense with your brothers. I’m pretty good at standing up for myself.”
“I know. It still made me mad.” Balancing Daryn on her left hip, she warmed baby food in the microwave and filled a sippy cup with cold milk. Daryn was already reaching eagerly for the cup when Kim sat at the table with the baby on her knee. “They had no excuse for being so snotty about you when you were perfectly nice to them.”
Sitting across the table, Tate shrugged as he watched her spoon strained peas into Daryn’s open mouth. “No big deal, they don’t know me. She puts that away pretty well, doesn’t she?”
Kim wiped a smear of green from her daughter’s chin with a paper towel. “She loves her veggies. And by the way, she is a very healthy weight.”
She didn’t know why she was letting her mother’s little digs get to her. It didn’t bother her so badly when they were aimed at her, but she found herself getting very defensive about her daughter. She would have to work on that.
Tate smiled at her in a way that made her suspect he knew exactly what she was thinking. “She looks perfect to me.”
For only a moment, she was caught up in his warm amber gaze, her hand frozen with the spoon of peas halfway to her daughter’s mouth. Daryn made a sound of impatience and Kim jerked her attention back to the task at hand, chiding herself for getting distracted by Tate’s pretty eyes. This was no time to allow her thoughts to drift into that territory—not that there was ever a proper time for that, she reminded herself sharply.
Her mother swept into the kitchen on a faint cloud of floral perfume. “Honestly, Kim, couldn’t you have offered Tate a cold drink? What can I get for you, Tate?”
He shook his head, the faintest of creases between his brows as if he were holding back a frown. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“You’re sure? I have fresh-squeezed lemonade in the fridge.”
“Maybe I’ll have some later.”
Her hostess duties out of the way, Betsy turned again to Kim. “I should have thought to get a high chair. It would be much easier for you to feed her if you didn’t have to hold her in your lap. I’ll send Bob to buy one right now.”
“That’s not necessary, Mom. This is fine. Besides, we’re only going to be here one night.”
“For this visit, yes, but I was rather hoping you’d come back more often now.”
Refusing to be swayed by Betsy’s plaintive tone, Kim looked from her mother to Tate and back again. “You’ve made that rather difficult for me, haven’t you? I can hardly drag Tate back after this. It’s bad enough that I let you talk me into this crazy scheme this time.”
Her mother glanced quickly toward the doorway, then looked relieved that no one was there to have overheard. “Your husband doesn’t have to accompany every time you visit your family,” she said carefully. “We all understand that he’s quite busy with his business.”
Betsy’s next words reminded Kim why she wasn’t likely to visit even without the awkwardness of the marriage lie. “I’m surprised to see you feeding the baby solid foods and milk from a c
up. I nursed my babies for a full year, you know. It’s a much healthier start than jars of commercial baby food and regular milk.”
Because she didn’t want to fight with her mother in front of Tate, Kim drew a deep, steadying breath before replying evenly, “I nursed and pumped for as long as I was able and still work full-time, Mother. I also prepare most of Daryn’s food myself, using fresh fruits and vegetables and a food processor. Daryn’s pediatrician recommended I start her on solid foods and whole milk a month ago when her weight was beginning to drop. She has thrived ever since.”
She did not add that she well remembered her mother bottle-feeding Stuart formula; Betsy had been too busy playing at being a high-society charitable volunteer to spend time nursing the baby who’d been raised by nannies until the acrimonious divorce had caused a drastic change in Betsy’s financial standing. Kim doubted it would do any good to call her on the discrepancy. Her mother was so skilled at deception that she seemed to believe her own tales, and she would argue heatedly if disputed.
“You needn’t worry about your granddaughter, Mrs. Shaw. Kim is an amazing mom. She always puts Daryn’s needs first. She’s totally committed to making sure Daryn has a good life. I’ve always admired that about her.”
Kim felt her cheeks warm in response to the unexpected and very sincere-sounding compliment.
Eyeing Tate appraisingly, her mother said, “Please call me Betsy, dear. After all, we are family.”
Kim rolled her eyes. Tate smiled, but she noted he didn’t look quite as charmed as he had before.
* * *
After feeding Daryn, Kim decided to take her out for a walk, saying that the baby needed a daily dose of fresh air and Kim needed the exercise. Suspecting it was primarily an excuse to get away from her family for a bit, Tate offered to walk with her. He needed to stretch his legs, himself, after their car trip, he said.
Though Betsy seemed a little miffed that they were so eager to escape so soon after their arrival, she hadn’t tried to detain them, though she had asked if her sons wanted to join the walk. Both Julian and Stuart had declined, to no one’s surprise.