Ian slapped his thigh for Lulu. “Okay. If you’re okay with this, it works for me.”
“Then let’s do it. Go along with the line for now, tell the truth once they’re gone, find a place for me and Cady.”
His usual grin tugged at his lips. “I’m still selling tickets for that one. Especially now that Moxie can play the ‘you lied to me’ card.”
“Excuse me? Weren’t you listening when I told her that I wasn’t going to promise to come back here before winter?”
“That was good, I agree. But she wasn’t even trying then. She was just taking your measure, seeing what she had to work with.”
“Well, she had better measure high, because much as I like you, Ian, there’s no way I’m staying here tonight.” Tingling lips be damned.
“Not that I’m on Moxie’s side, Darce, but seriously?” He grinned and grabbed a bag. “This, I’ve got to see.”
* * *
IAN HAD SPENT a good deal of time over the past months wondering how it would feel to walk back into the family homestead. He never had expected to do it while dodging a fur ball, lugging a portable crib and jiggling a baby who had decided that his nose made a great teething toy.
“Ow!” His howl of pain was muffled by Cady’s chin in his mouth. “Cady, no!”
He came to a dead stop in the hall. He didn’t dare go farther, not with Lulu doing laps around his legs and his vision blocked by a tiny face. Darcy was behind him. Her laughter pealed around him.
“Hang on,” she gasped. “I’ll be right—”
A few maneuvers and an unsettling amount of giggles later, he was free—not that Cady seemed too happy about it.
“Shh, killer,” Darcy said. “Mommy will find you something else to bite on.”
“Don’t mind me. I’ll just stand here and bleed.” He was pretty sure he was speaking to the walls at this point—hard to tell, what with the way his eyes were watering—but apart from wondering if his nose was still intact, he was surprisingly cheerful. He was in the house. He’d survived the first reunion with Carter and Taylor. He hadn’t even been thrown by the probably pregnant thing.
Maybe he could do this after all.
“Hey, Ian. You need some ice for where that mean old baby bit you?’
That was Carter, and the son of a bitch seemed to be laughing as he walked down the stairs.
“Very funny.” Ian blinked to clear his vision—damn, those little teeth were sharp—and focused on the dog. “Lulu, sit.”
She did, for about a half second before popping back up to sniff Moxie’s feet.
“That dog is going to have to learn some manners if you expect her to stay in this house, Ian.”
God help Lulu if Moxie decided to reform her.
“Lulu will be fine once she gets the feel of the place.”
“Well, we’ll give her a little longer.” Moxie gave him a sideways look. “’Course, training a dog is a lot like teaching a baby, and it doesn’t look like you’re earning any gold stars for that right now, either.”
“Hey,” he began, but Darcy cut him off.
“Ian is amazing with both Lulu and Cady. They hang on everything he says. He can make Cady stop crying just by walking into the room, and as for Lulu, well, you should see how he’s trained her to follow his instructions when he’s working around the forge. He keeps her perfectly safe with nothing more than a word. Believe me, once Lulu has a chance to run off the trip, he’ll have her behaving perfectly.”
Her smile was meant to soften her words, he knew, but his mouth wasn’t the only one left hanging slightly open at the way she’d rushed to his defense. It was almost enough to make him hope she lost to Moxie when it came time to confess and find another place to stay.
Almost.
But as unexpectedly comforting as it was to have Darcy running interference between him and everyone else, she was right. They couldn’t share a room. He couldn’t even think about sharing the big king bed that he knew was in Hank’s suite. That thought made him even dizzier than he’d felt when Cady’s teeth had sunk into his nose.
“Now,” Darcy continued, bright and sunny as always despite the child crying in her arms, “if someone could direct me to the kitchen, I think we’ll all be safer from Hannibal Lecter here if I get some food into her.”
“It’s this way,” said Taylor, pointing down the hall. “Do you need any of these bags?”
“The pink diaper bag, please. Ian, are you and Carter okay with everything else?”
Wait a minute. Darcy had had her claws pointed in Carter’s direction since last night’s confession. And now she was suggesting that they do this together, just the two of them? His arms tensed. Sure, things were easier than he’d expected, but that didn’t mean he was ready to be alone with Carter. Maybe Darcy had meant...
But no. This would have to happen sooner or later. If he moved back and took the job, he would have to work with Carter regularly. Might as well start off the way he intended to go, as the saying went.
“We’re fine,” he said at last. “You go ahead and take care of the Bug. I’ve got this covered.”
He grabbed Darcy’s bag. Carter hefted the crib.
“Correction. We’ve got this covered.”
Oh, crap.
With a last glance at Darcy—who seemed far too willing to be swept into the kitchen on a wave of estrogen—he whistled for the dog.
“Upstairs, Lulu,” he said to the panting bundle of fur. She immediately trotted ahead of him.
“Whoa. Darcy wasn’t lying. She really does listen to you.”
“You don’t have to sound quite so amazed.” Ian kept the words light but refrained from adding the dumbass that he would have tacked on without thought in the old days. Not yet.
“Still can’t believe Moxie unbent enough to put you both in here,” Carter said as he set down the crib at the entrance to the room.
“Yeah, well, you never can predict what people are going to do, can you?”
He’d meant it to be innocent. Truly. But the way Carter grimaced was proof that he hadn’t interpreted the words that way.
“Ian,” he said, his gaze fixed on the patch of sunlight streaming through the stained glass window on the landing. “I-it’s good to have you back. It’s been killing Mom, having you gone, especially the way things, you know, shook out. Dad doesn’t say much. Sometimes, though, I know he’s thinking... Anyway, I know it had to be hard for you to come back, and I just want to say, you know, if you need us to stay away, or lay low, whatever, say the word. Whatever we can do to make this easier for you.”
Well, that wasn’t a speech Ian had expected to hear. And even though he knew he should do the big and generous thing and assure Carter that all was well, he found he wasn’t quite ready to say those words. Maybe because it was too early in his trip. Maybe because hearing Darcy rush to his defense had felt so good that he wanted to see if it would happen a few more times before he did the Mr. Forgiving thing.
“Thanks,” he said after a second. “I’m okay. You don’t need to do anything different because I’m around.”
“If that changes—”
“Right. I’ll let you know.”
Carter’s grin was more like his usual one. “’Course, I have a feeling that if I step out of line, even by mistake, Darcy will grab me by the ear and drag me down to the river and boot my ass into the water faster than I could say I’m sorry.”
Now, there was a picture Ian liked. A lot.
“I think you might have that one right,” was all he trusted himself to say, before adding, “What’s up with Hank and Cash these days?”
Discussing their brothers was safe. Still, Ian didn’t linger, but walked slowly to the stairs as they talked. Misery wasn’t the only emotion that loved company.
“Cash—who knows? He’s always at work or out with a tourist, but Ma thinks he has a secret life. You know, an online girlfriend, an illegal hobby, whatever.”
Great. Just what this family needed—more
secrets.
“Hank, though, no mysteries there. He doesn’t have time. Running the cabins keeps him hopping. But he’s happy. Marrying Brynn was the best thing he ever did. He even laughed out loud the other day.”
“I thought the youngest kid was supposed to be the wildest. When did he turn into the boring one?”
Carter snorted. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Ian, but rumor has it we’re all boring ones these days. I mean, look at us. Kids and wives and—”
Carter must have realized that he was heading down a road best left untraveled, for when the sudden silence made Ian glance over his shoulder, he saw his brother frozen on the stairs, his mouth clamped shut and his expression unreadable.
Ian drew in a deep breath, hoping to channel some of that okay-ness that he’d felt earlier, but it seemed to have slipped out the door. Maybe he just wasn’t ready to be buddies with Carter again. Maybe he wasn’t over things as much as he’d thought.
Maybe he and Darcy should speed up the confession before everyone got too comfortable and forgot that, in some ways, the past wasn’t all that long ago.
CHAPTER SEVEN
DARCY HAD GROWN UP learning to read emotions and react accordingly. She had made a career out of anticipating her mother’s needs and ensuring they were met even before Sylvie articulated them. But she had no idea how to read and measure someone who was doing the same to her, and who had a good forty-plus years experience in doing just that.
Taylor had politely asked about the drive and the baby while leading Darcy into the sunshiny kitchen overflowing with light wood cabinets, white furniture and touches of bright yellow. But no sooner had Darcy opened the container of Cady’s favorite chunky beef and vegetables—the mess Ian referred to as the Hangover Special—than Taylor turned green, excused herself and dashed from the room.
“Wuss,” Darcy proclaimed in a soft voice to Cady. Usually she had nothing but empathy for the less-than-joyful symptoms of pregnancy, but this time she felt that excessive nausea, bloating and fatigue were simply karma. “Maybe we should make sure we slip her a diaper or two, huh, Bug?”
“I don’t remember you having such a vindictive streak when you were a girl.”
Crap. Busted.
Moxie approached with her arms crossed and the ultimate poker face.
There were two ways to play this. Darcy could choose to fall over herself with apologies and justifications—or she could make her position clear from the start.
“I don’t think it’s vindictive to want to see some balancing of the scales.”
“Is that what you’re here for?”
Darcy shrugged and focused on fastening a bib behind a bobbing neck while keeping little fists out of the bowl. Not an easy feat with one hand.
“I’m here because my grandmother isn’t home. Other than that, I have no agenda.”
“Really?”
“Really.” The Velcro closings on the bib finally connected. Darcy spooned up some food and slipped it into Cady’s mouth. “Here you go, big girl.”
“Interesting that after all this time, you suddenly show up with Ian.”
How to handle that one without telling the truth? “As I said outside, I know I should visit more often, but I’m sure you understand that it was easier to make the trip with someone else.”
“I’ll grant you that one.” Moxie lowered herself into a chair across the table. “But I get the feeling there’s more to it than that.”
It would be wrong to tell this woman, who was opening her home to Cady and her, to mind her own business. There was drawing a line, and there was plain rudeness. Not that Moxie seemed to be differentiating between them, but still. It was always better to take the high road.
Darcy decided to let the implied question pass unanswered, focusing instead on Cady, who was doing her best to dive off Darcy’s knee and bury her face in the bowl of slop.
“She wants to feed herself,” Moxie said.
“I know. At home I let her have her own spoon and some finger food, but I didn’t want our first minutes here to end up with your kitchen decorated in beef glop.”
The corner of Moxie’s mouth twitched. “This room has seen worse than that over the years. I’ll have Ian bring the high chair up from the basement. She’s a fine baby. She shouldn’t have to stifle herself for us.”
“Thank you.” The mention of a high chair and all it implied created a lump in her gut, but nothing could be done about it at the moment. She hoped to hell that Taylor and Carter weren’t planning to stay a long time tonight. The sooner she and Ian could get the truth on the table, the better for everyone.
“Could you grab that pack of wipes from my bag and hand me one, please?”
Moxie rose from her chair and did as requested, lingering for a moment and making fluttering motions with her fingers. Cady’s eyes followed the movements in fascination.
“Anything you need, let me know. I don’t want this little one having a hard time because you don’t want to speak up.” Moxie tapped Cady’s cheek with one finger, earning a wide-eyed stare. “And I know it’s rough when they’re teething. Don’t you worry about keeping people awake in the night. My room’s down here, and as for Ian’s folks, well, I think it’ll take another decade or two for Robert and Janice to catch up on the sleep they lost when the boys were little. You wouldn’t disturb them unless you marched into their room and dropped the baby on the bed beside them.”
Darcy repressed a shudder. “Not planning on doing that, thank you.”
“There’s a mini fridge in your rooms. I’ll put some juice and such in it. If you’re up with her in the night and need anything else, there’s tea and cocoa in that cupboard.” Moxie pointed above the double sink. “Cheerios down there if she wants a snack, and you can help yourself to anything in the fridge. Or freezer. One good thing about working at a dairy is we always have milk and ice cream in the house.”
“Sounds lovely. I hope we won’t need any of it, but it’s good to know just in case.”
“Prepare for the worst, hope for the best. That’s the way to go.” Moxie returned to her chair. “Now, then, how long have you and Ian been together?”
Crap, crap, crap. Where the heck was he?
“I—”
“Because it’s interesting that he never mentioned it.”
Ooh, that one she could handle. “Given the way his last relationship blew up in his face, I don’t think it’s unreasonable at all.”
Moxie shook her head. “You don’t mince words, do you?”
“Actually, I’m usually very mild-mannered.”
“Are you, now?”
Cady chose that moment to smack her hands together, sending bits of glop flying through the air. Darcy would never have imagined she would welcome being showered with goo, but it seemed there was indeed a first time for everything.
“She has your eyes.” Moxie, who of course was untouched by the spray, sat back and grinned. “But her mouth...not yours. Does she favor her father?”
Good Lord. Was there any topic that Moxie couldn’t twist into a land mine?
“So, did Nonny go on this cruise by herself?”
Was that a chuckle?
“Nope,” Moxie said at last. “There’s a group from church that went together, and a few others from the senior center. I thought for sure she would have told you about it.”
“She might have mentioned it.” Probably had, too. But Darcy spoke to Nonny so infrequently these days that it could have been months since their last real conversation. Part of it, of course, was simply the hectic pace of Darcy’s life now that Cady was on the scene.
But Darcy couldn’t deny that lately, every interaction with Nonny was spent braced for—not attack, never that—but there had been a major shift in their relationship ever since the call when Darcy had said, “I’m pregnant,” and Nonny had uttered a low, disappointed, “Oh, Darcy.”
Yep, that had been just the response she needed when she was already dealing with guilt and wor
ry and other fun.
But there was no way Darcy would dare say anything against Nonny to Moxie, of all people.
“I wish I had remembered about this trip.” She dabbed at Cady’s chin. “But it sounds like something she’s dreamed of for years. I’m sorry to have missed her, but I would have hated to make her lose out on this.”
“Oh?”
“Well, yes. I mean, she’s the reason I came.” One of the reasons anyway.
Moxie made Eensy Weensy Spider motions with her fingers, prompting Cady to stop eating and stare. “Since you seem to appreciate plain talk, Darcy, that’s what I’m going to give you. I think Helene told you all about the cruise. Lord knows it’s all she’s talked about for months. You might think you didn’t know about it, but I’m betting if you stopped and thought a minute, you’d remember something.”
Darcy stopped waving the spoon in front of Cady’s face and gave Moxie her full attention. “Are you saying that you think I chose this time deliberately, because I knew Nonny wouldn’t be around?”
“I wouldn’t say it was deliberate. But I wouldn’t say it was a total coincidence, either.”
Thank heaven Taylor returned at that moment, a little whiter but smiling nonetheless. “Well, I’m back. Did I miss any excitement?”
Only if she thought the Inquisition was nothing more than a fact-finding mission.
“All better?” Moxie asked.
“Fine.” Taylor reached toward Cady before hesitating, her hand hovering in the air. “Oh, listen, I don’t... I’m not contagious or anything. I swear she won’t catch anything from me, but you know, I had something for lunch that didn’t sit quite right and—”
“Taylor.” Moxie’s smile was probably as close to indulgent as she ever came. “You don’t have to spin stories. We understand perfectly. Congratulations, child.”
“Oh.” Some of the color returned to Taylor’s cheeks. “Oh. I... Well... When we pulled in and saw Ian, I...”
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