A Sweet Life-kindle

by Andre, Bella

  “Delaney could have cooked this entire meal and done an excellent job of it,” she told Conner, “but Sunday’s her day to sell pies.” She guided him to a seat at the table opposite Delaney. He sat down, and Millie took the chair beside him, no doubt so she could continue to bend his ear with Delaney’s many attributes. “And she can clean, too.”

  “Being able to cook and clean is definitely a plus,” he said. “But domestic abilities fall far behind honesty, in my book. I don’t think I can work with anyone I can’t trust.” Delaney let her gaze dart to his face, but he didn’t add anything and pretended to settle for Lula’s response, which was a supremely confident “Oh, you can trust our Laney. There isn’t a dishonest bone in her body. To tell you the truth, we don’t know how she even got herself in this... predicament. She’s never been one of those—” her voice fell to a whisper “—loose women.”

  “So she’s pregnant,” Ruby said, waving her hand as though they were making a big deal out of nothing. “At least she’s not doing drugs.”

  A muscle had jumped in Conner’s cheek at the word pregnant. “I’m sure I can trust her,” he said smoothly, but the undercurrent in his voice made Delaney squirm.

  The conversation turned to the fact that Delaney could ride a horse and had experience with animals, since she’d been in 4-H and had done some barrel-racing as a teenager. But Delaney kept her eyes on her plate, purposely ignoring the funny anecdotes and comments Conner chose to share as other topics arose. He pretended to be enjoying himself as much as Aunt Millie and everyone else, but Delaney knew better. She could see that he was making a concerted effort to win everyone over, which he did with ease. Why he’d bother, she couldn’t say.

  “What’s wrong?” Uncle Ralph asked, looking concerned as she helped him carry the dishes into the kitchen. “Nothing,” she muttered, pushing through the swinging door.

  “You hardly touched your food.” He put his load of dishes in the sink. “And you’ve been quiet as a mouse. Why are you letting those old ladies out there do all the talking?”

  “Conner’s been doing his share,” Delaney grumbled, resenting Conner’s easy charm and quick wit because she knew he was using them as some kind of weapon.

  “Don’t you like him?” Uncle Ralph asked.

  “He’s okay, I guess,” she said, but at the moment, she didn’t like him at all. Obviously she’d made a mistake in telling him about the baby. She should’ve listened to Rebecca and forgotten her scruples about having forgotten her scruples.

  “Nice of him to let you take over Dottie’s position. He hasn’t even started interviewing yet.”

  “I’m not sure we should count on his help,” Delaney said.

  “Why not?”

  “Because he probably won’t last long around here. Roy, out at the ranch, says he’s going back to California soon.”

  Uncle Ralph raised his eyebrows. “That’s odd. He’s not talking like he’s going back anytime soon.”

  Delaney had noted the same thing, and it worried her more than anything else. She didn’t want to live with his hostility for years to come. “I can find another job,” she told him, infusing her voice with false confidence as she rinsed the plates and loaded them in the dishwasher. “I don’t want to bank on something that’s still so tentative.”

  “All we have to do is ask him. A woman in your situation can’t be too choosy.”

  Aunt Millie yelled for the pie server, and Uncle Ralph immediately grabbed it and left the kitchen.

  Delaney took as long as she possibly could with the dishes, but the time still came when she had to return to the dining room.

  “Conner said you can start Monday,” Ruby told her the moment she appeared, passing her a piece of pie.

  “I can’t start on Monday,” Delaney said. “I’m working at the library for another two weeks.”

  “Then, start when you can. I’m not in a big hurry,” Conner said.

  Delaney gritted her teeth at the self-satisfied smile that curled his lips and shoved a bite of pie into her mouth, stalling until she could think of a refusal Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph might accept. Now that they felt they’d found the perfect solution, they weren’t going to give up. And Conner was taking full advantage.

  “I’d be better off looking for something closer,” she said. “The ranch is several miles out of town, and the roads will be icy that early in the morning. My tires aren’t great,” she added, hoping for a little support from Uncle Ralph, who was always worried about the tread on people’s tires. “It’s nearly spring,” Ralph said instead. “You don’t have to worry about the roads.”

  “And you could do what Dottie does—spend the week at the ranch and go home only on weekends,” Conner suggested.

  “We were just saying that having you stay would probably be the best solution,” Aunt Millie chimed in. “You know, to cut down on the driving.”

  Delaney folded her napkin, unable to take another bite. “Actually, I still have my pie business. I’d need to come home at night to bake—”

  “It would be smarter to bake at the ranch,” Conner said, sounding downright solicitous. “You’ll have a big kitchen and lots of time.”

  “See? It’s ideal!” Ruby said. “And he’s promised to match the salary you’ve been making at the library. With what you’ll be getting from the city besides, you won’t have to sell pies if you don’t want to and you’ll still be able to save for the baby.”

  Delaney managed a weak smile, but the thanks that sprang to her lips was too sarcastic to utter. “That’s very generous, but—”

  Conner looked up at her, hitting her with the full force of his amber eyes and the dark emotion that lurked behind them. “Is there a problem?”

  Aunt Millie rushed to reassure him. “Of course there’s no problem,” she said. “She’ll start week after next, as soon as the library closes.”

  “What a nice young man you’ve turned out to be,” Vern told Conner.

  Yeah, what a guy, Delaney thought. Conner believed he had her cornered, and he wasn’t about to let her escape. But she’d show him. She’d show them all with a quick and absolute refusal.

  Except, she couldn’t think of a single objection they couldn’t easily override. Conner was being too reasonable. And she was afraid that if she pushed him, he’d end up telling the room at large that he was the father of her baby. Worse, he might explain exactly how he had come to be the father of her baby and destroy everyone’s good opinion of her in one fell swoop.

  All over one mistake...

  “Why not come out to the ranch tomorrow so we can show you around?” he asked, his manner deceptively casual.

  “Will Dottie be there?” Delaney asked.

  “For another few weeks.” His grin made her feel unsettled. “After that, we’ll be on our own.”

  Delaney nodded weakly. “Great.”

  “No problem,” he said. “Happy Easter.”

  HER HEAD WAS GOING TO EXPLODE if the ringing didn’t stop. Shooting out an arm from beneath the comforter Rebecca must’ve thrown over her sometime during the night, Delaney almost fell off the couch as she fumbled around on the coffee table, searching for the telephone. She sighed in blessed relief when she succeeded in disconnecting it from its base and restoring silence.

  A few seconds later she remembered that the ringing of a telephone generally meant someone was on the other end of the line.

  “’Lo?” she mumbled, barely managing to bring the receiver to her ear without knocking herself on the head with it.

  “Rebecca?”

  Aunt Millie’s hearing was getting worse all the time. Delaney squinted at the clock above the television, surprised to find it after ten, then promptly squeezed her eyes shut in an effort to stop the room from spinning. Morning sickness on top of a bad night. Wonderful.

  “Hi, Aunt Millie,” she said. “It’s me, Delaney.”

  “You sound funny. Did I wake you?”

  From the dead. “No, I mean, yes, but I have
to get up, anyway. I need to do some housework before I go to the library.”

  “I was just wondering what time you were going out to the Armstrong ranch.”

  The ranch. Conner. God, it hadn’t been a dream. “I’m not sure. I’ll have to give him a call.”

  “Want me to arrange it for you?”

  “No!” Delaney shoved her tangled hair out of her face and struggled to a sitting position. “You’ve done enough, thanks. I’ll handle it from here.”

  There was a long silence, during which Delaney realized, rather belatedly, that Aunt Millie was treating her in an almost normal manner. Yesterday, she’d even given her a hug goodbye. “I know you’re trying to help,” she added. “And I appreciate it.”

  “Well, I love you, you know that.”

  “I do.”

  “I still don’t agree with what you’ve done, though.”

  “Of course not.” Even Delaney didn’t agree with what she’d done. But she was left with the consequences of it, and those consequences just seemed to keep coming and coming and coming.

  “You’ll probably lose your job over this.”

  “Maybe.”

  Another pause. “So that’s not good. But I think I’ll enjoy having a grandbaby. I’m not getting any younger. Sooner’s probably better than later, huh?”

  Delaney smiled in spite of the ball of nerves that had lodged in the pit of her stomach at the mention of Conner. “I needed to hear that,” she said. “Tell Uncle Ralph I wouldn’t mind if he were to forgive me, too.”

  “Ralph thinks you’re about the best thing since sliced bread. He’ll come around.”

  Delaney felt her throat tighten at this matter-of-fact pronouncement. They still loved her, bless their wonderful old hearts. “You two have always been there for me.”

  “And we’re not going anywhere, least not till we don’t have any choice in the matter.” She chuckled. “Call Conner Armstrong and make sure you get that job. It’s exactly what you need, especially since you’re having a baby.”

  His baby. Conner’s job was the last thing she wanted, but Delaney wasn’t going to argue now that Aunt Millie had decided to let bygones be bygones. She promised to call back once she’d talked to him, then hung up and sat staring at the phone while the ball of nerves in her stomach turned to acid.

  Hi, Conner. We don’t know each other. We have nothing in common. So maybe you’d be willing to go about your business and just forget about me and our baby....

  Hi, Conner. Just calling to say there’s no need for you to get involved in my life. I can take care of this baby just fine on my own.

  Yeah, right. Like he was going to buy that. He knew she didn’t even have a reliable job.

  Taking a deep breath for courage, she picked up the receiver, hoping something brilliant would occur to her—or that Conner would already be gone for the day. But Dottie answered on the first ring and assured her that he was just out in the barn.

  “I’ll get him,” she said. “He’s been expecting your call.” Don’t throw up...don’t throw up, Delaney encouraged herself while she waited, but as soon as she heard Conner’s voice, she had to dash for the bathroom.

  Unfortunately, he was still there when she returned. “Where’d you go?” he asked.

  She tried to catch her breath and ignore the nausea so she could think straight. “I’m not feeling very well.”

  “I hear pregnancy will do that to a woman.”

  “So I’m learning.”

  “Sorry if I’m having a difficult time dredging up much sympathy. When are you coming out here?”

  Delaney grimaced as the unrest in her stomach increased. Not again...”I’m not coming out,” she said. “I think we should talk.”

  “Isn’t it a little late for that? Talking’s not going to solve anything at this point.”

  “Any chance you’d believe this baby isn’t yours, after all?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. What about the possibility that you might forget about us and go on your way?”

  “Next to nil.”

  Delaney released her breath. “That’s what I thought.”

  “At least we understand each other.”

  “In what way?”

  “In the only way that matters. We’ve played the game by your rules up till now, but that’s about to change.”

  He sounded like a stranger to her—an angry, unfathomable stranger. And he very nearly was one. “Listen,” she said. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”

  “Right. Well, you might be really, really sorry, but sorry’s not going to cover something like this.”

  “You have every right to be upset, but please know that I wasn’t trying to trap you into marriage, if that’s what you think. And I wasn’t planning to go after you for money—”

  “Oh, no? Were you planning to go straight to my grandfather, instead?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Delaney said. “I’m not out to cause any trouble.”

  “You’re defi correct there, Miss Delaney from Jerome with the big family living on the farm with the fresh milk and all that other bullshit,” he said. “Because I plan to make sure of it. How much did Stephen pay you, anyway?”

  “I don’t know any Stephen.”

  “Of course not. It doesn’t matter, anyway. You’re going to stay out here at the ranch until you have that baby, then you’re going to turn it over to me and walk away. You got that? We’ll deal with this little problem my way.”

  Terror shot through Delaney’s veins. Regardless of what she’d done in Boise, she should’ve realized the risks she was taking when she told Conner about the baby. “I won’t ever walk away from my baby,” she said. “That’s something you need to understand.”

  “Well, we’ll see about that,” he said. “For now, just pack your bags as soon as the library closes for remodeling, and come on out.”

  “I’m not going to stay with you out there in the middle of nowhere.”

  “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re already in the middle of nowhere. Or is that what you liked about me—did you think I’d be your ticket out?”

  “I don’t want a ticket out! I’m staying right here.”

  “Not there, exactly. You’re going to move to the ranch with me, or you won’t be able to live in this town for the scandal I’ll cause. Poor Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph and your dear old friends won’t be able to hold up their heads in public when I’m finished with you.”

  Delaney imagined the embarrassment Conner could heap on Aunt Millie’s already stooped shoulders because of her, and hesitated. Conner was angry—or maybe livid was a better word—but he’d calm down, and then he’d have to listen to her. She’d make him listen, convince him that she’d had no intention of involving him or his grandfather in her baby’s future. Convince him she wasn’t interested in his family’s money.

  “Fine.” She relented. “I’ll fill in for Dottie until she gets back, but that’s all I can promise.”

  “See you in two weeks, sweetheart,” he said, then the phone clicked in her ear.

  She was still holding the receiver when Rebecca appeared at the end of the hallway, wearing a pair of boxers and a T-shirt.

  “I thought that might be Buddy,” she said, her hair sticking out on all sides.

  “No.” Delaney hung up and covered her face with her hands. What was she going to do?

  “So who was it?” Rebecca asked. “Conner.”

  Delaney peeked through her fingers long enough to see Rebecca’s surprised expression. “What did he want?”

  “He said I’d better move out to the ranch as soon as the library closes or all hell will break loose.”

  Rebecca shook her head. “I told you that you should’ve stuck with the cancer story,” she grumbled, and shuffled back to bed.

  Then Delaney called Aunt Millie to tell her the good news.

  Chapter Twelve

  TWO WEEKS LATER, Delaney was on
her way to the ranch. Encompassing most of two mountains and a good portion of the valley between, it looked beautiful with the green of spring. Yellow wildflowers waved on the hillsides and the trees were just regaining their leaves. But she hadn’t come to enjoy the scenery.

  Slowing at the gate that led to the house, she wiped away the moisture on her lip, wondering how she could be sweating in forty-degree weather. She tossed a nervous glance at the suitcases she’d piled in the back seat. She had enough clothes in those bags to spend all of spring away from home, and probably summer, too, but she didn’t intend to stay with Conner any longer than it took to gain his confidence and cooperation. It was just that packing had been therapeutic—all those neat folds and familiar steps to and from her closet—so she’d gotten carried away.

  As she turned into the rutted drive, she recognized the white pickup that had been parked in front of Aunt Millie’s house when she’d come to dinner on Easter Sunday, and wished she had the nerve to ram it. She’d always weighed her actions carefully, stifled the dramatic, avoided anything that would make her look bad, anything that would make others look bad, anything that would be hurtful or foolish or require an apology. Anything, in short, with even the slightest negative consequences. But she was tired of all that. For some reason, she wanted to throw the biggest tantrum anyone had ever seen. All she’d ever wanted was a baby of her own. She’d lived a good life, followed the Golden Rule, gone to church, sacrificed for the good of the community. Was one baby too much to ask?

  Evidently it was. Since that night in Boise, everything had started rolling downhill and was only gathering speed. Now she was a hostage to her baby’s father. Judging by the cryptic message he’d left on her answering machine last night, saying she’d better report for work by eight o’clock sharp, Conner planned to make the most of whatever power he imagined he possessed.

  If he thought he’d take her baby, however, he had another think coming! She put a hand to her belly. No one, no one, was going to stand between her and this child.

  Delaney parked to the side so the other vehicles in the drive—an old Chevy Suburban and a brown pickup truck with the tailgate down—could still get past her. Shoving the gearshift into park, she got out and collected her luggage. She dragged all three pieces to the front step, then punched the doorbell about ten times without pause, feeling vaguely satisfied when Conner answered, looking harried and still in the process of buttoning his flannel shirt.