Baby Blues and Wedding Bells

by Patricia McLinn

  “Kay, Zach sees me as a friend, especially as the friend who’s helping him get to know Nell.”

  “No way.”

  Fran shook her head. “You don’t understand. Zach… Zach is…”

  “What? The hottest thing Tobias has ever seen? Not to mention a Corbett. I haven’t been here long, but I’m a quick study. I understand that. What I don’t understand is why you think that would mean he couldn’t be nuts about you. Have you looked at yourself lately?”

  Fran smiled. “I don’t hide from mirrors, Kay.”

  “But do you look? You know, Rob’s given me grief about wearing black all the time. You could use a wardrobe makeover, too.”

  That surprised a laugh from Fran. “You don’t pull your punches, do you?”

  “Why waste time?” Kay eyed her. “Why don’t you look through the boxes of clothes you’re letting me leave in the attic.”

  “I couldn’t wear your clothes—they’d be too small.”

  “Depends on whether you want to show your figure or hide it. The size you’ve been wearing is all about hiding.”

  “That’s not—”

  “Hey!”

  Fran jumped as Zach called from the porch. Heat pushed into her cheeks, and Kay grinned.

  “Hey!” He called again. “I could use some help out here. We’ve got runaway pups and I only have two hands.”

  Chapter Eight

  Zach sat on the back steps, ridding his shoes of their daily portion of mud, when Kay came out with a sweater wrapped around her and sat next to him. She said nothing.

  He finally looked over, even though he wasn’t in the mood to talk. He’d been working all day at the gardens, getting ready for bringing the trees in tomorrow. He hadn’t seen much of Fran.

  She’d acted skittish last night, although that could have been from chasing puppies. Apparently all the puppies had figured how to get out of the box at once, and he’d nearly taken a header avoiding stepping on them as he’d come in from dinner with Walter.

  Walter had had interesting things to say about Steve’s leadership in bringing Tobias into the twenty-first century. And less interesting things to say about Lana mellowing. Right.

  Zach had wanted to talk to Fran about it. But between AWOL puppies and Kay’s, then Rob’s presence, there’d been no chance.

  Today Fran had met with the other members of the Bliss House committee well past lunch. He’d caught sight of her with the rest of them, doing a walk-through of the house. Then she’d gone to work filling planters spotted around the gardens. They’d never been in the same area at the same time, and he had to wonder if that was a coincidence.

  “I have a couple of things to tell you,” Kay said now. “First, after Rob leaves Sunday, I’m going to stay a few days with Miss Trudi.”

  Why tell him?

  “So you and Fran will have the house to yourselves,” she added, as if she’d read his mind.

  And now he could read her mind. “You’re full of it.”

  “Right.” She gave no sign of being the least put off by his comment. “Like that tabloid jerk was full of it saying he recognized you.”

  “He was.”

  “No, he wasn’t.” Before this could get into a was-too-was-not, she added, “You know, Zach, I’m disappointed in you.”

  That got him to look at her. But he kept his mouth shut.

  “Even in the brief time I’ve been here,” Kay said, “I’ve heard the tales of Zach Corbett the Wild One. But you’re a total flop as the town’s bad boy.”

  “You’re getting your information from the wrong source. Try talking to my mother. Or my brother.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know about Lana, but Steve? He’d agree with me. Especially if he knew what you’re doing now.”

  He went still. “What do you mean?”

  “The task force, that’s what I mean. Zach Corbett belonging to an urban search-and-rescue team that goes all over the world helping people. I won’t tell them, but I don’t get why you haven’t. If you think Fran can’t handle it—”

  He laughed. “Like there’s anything I could tell Fran Dalton that would disturb that serenity of hers.”

  Kay snorted. “Serene like a tiger.”

  “Fran? Are you kidding?”

  “No. Are you blind? She protects her own. I was told in no uncertain terms not to hurt Rob or I’d answer to her. But she didn’t hesitate to give him grief, either. If you hurt one of Fran’s chicks, you’ll feel those tiger claws. I know I’m mixing animals, but— Oh, wait. I’ve got that wrong.” She gave a wide, wicked grin. “Unless you are one of her chicks. In which case, you’re off the hook and everybody else better watch out.”

  “C’mon, that’s—”

  “No, you’re right, I missed another element. You’re still not off the hook. If you hurt her, then Rob’ll get you, and I’ll help. So, you might as well tell.”

  “There’s nothing—”

  “Zach, our sleazy tabloid friend remembered where he’d seen you, and in an attempt to win my confidence—a totally misguided attempt,” she inserted with a blissful smile, “he told me. I’ve done some interesting Internet searches.”

  “Kay…”

  “I don’t understand why you’re not telling your family, but I respect that that’s your choice.” She stood, brushing off her jeans. “But you know the one person you should tell, and now. She deserves to know, Zach. She deserves to know the kind of man she’s falling for.”

  “I’ve had two great ideas,” Kay announced. “Phenomenal, actually. I can’t believe I didn’t think of these before.”

  Everyone else gathered in the Daltons’ family room groaned, but Zach noticed none of their hands slowed in the parallel assembly lines as they placed Bliss House labels on seed packets—one line set up on the couch, the other along easy chairs across from it. They’d been at it for more than an hour and weren’t yet halfway done.

  Nell had arrived along with a friend. She’d taken one look at him and declared she and Laura Ellen couldn’t help because they had a school project to work on. Fran had set them up in her bedroom with a movie in the DVD player and popcorn, so he had his doubts about the project.

  Fran sat on the opposite side of the room, as distant from him as possible.

  She deserves to know the kind of man she’s falling for.

  Right, like Fran was falling for him.

  “So what’s the first idea, Kay?” Rob asked.

  “We’re not going to give the seed packets away.”

  “Yes, we are,” Fran said firmly. “After all this work we most certainly are giving them away.”

  Kay laughed. “Relax, relax. I don’t mean we’re going to keep them. And we’re not going to sell them, because I know the agreement you made with the seed company. And even though they didn’t exactly keep their end of the deal, I know that you will. But nothing says we can’t put out the seeds right next to a box asking for donations.”

  “That’s a good idea,” Max said. “What’s the other one?”

  “We need ideas to keep Bliss House in front of people after it opens.”

  “We’ve created a monster,” Annette said.

  Rob laughed. “You guys voted to put her in charge of PR.”

  “It’s all Miss Trudi’s fault,” Suz said.

  “Well, that’s true,” Kay said. “I’d’ve been long gone if it hadn’t been for Miss Trudi.”

  Miss Trudi nodded graciously. “I am most pleased to be assigned responsibility for Kay being here.”

  “God bless you and your interfering ways.” Rob smiled as he looked at Kay.

  “Interfering? I have no idea what you could mean, Rob.”

  Over the chuckles that greeted Miss Trudi’s comment, Annette said, “So what’s your idea, Kay?”

  “We’re going to get lots of questions about the gardens, so we need signs out there, explaining what’s in each garden and why.”

  “Oh, God,” Fran groaned.

  “You are t
he logical person,” Kay said cheerfully. “You know what the plants are and why you chose them. You could add a bit of history of Victorian gardens and the connection with Jan Jansen.”

  “Jensen—Jens Jensen. But how on earth could we get all that on signs?”

  “Oh, no, we only put enough on signs to whet their appetites for the book.”

  “What book?”

  “That’s the truly inspired idea. I told you the gardens will be what make Bliss House famous. You could put all the information in a book, along with photos of the gardens. We’ll have the mural my grandmother painted on the cover and we can sell it.”

  “You’re asking too much of Fran,” Zach said.

  He was aware of everyone staring at him, but the only face he noticed was Fran’s. Her serenity rippled and ruffled like a pond in a wind.

  “That—” she started. But it was all she got out.

  The front doorbell rang. People looked at each other; everyone who was expected to be here was already here. And anyone getting up to answer the door would disrupt the assembly lines.

  A ragged chorus of “Come ins” sounded.

  The door opened, closed, followed by light footsteps.

  Lana Corbett appeared in the archway from the hall, and people out-and-out gaped—with the exception of Miss Trudi, who sat there with an enigmatic serenity like a Wisconsin Buddha.

  Zach couldn’t remember his mother ever being in the Daltons’ home, and from the others’ expressions, neither could they.

  Lana nodded at the group like a royal in a parade. But her imperious gaze centered on him.

  “The weather is turning cool, Zachary. I have brought three of your coats.”

  Folded over her arm were a cashmere winter coat, a top-of-the-line ski parka and a raincoat with the famous lining. He’d rarely worn them.

  “Thanks, but those won’t fit me now. Better give them to somebody who needs and wants them.”

  He almost thought she suppressed a wince. If so, it was at having an audience to this exchange.

  “Very well.” She shifted the carefully folded garments to her other arm. “Zachary, I wish to speak to you.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “In private.”

  “After the past couple of weeks,” he said dryly, “I can’t imagine there’s anything about us these people don’t know.”

  Her stiff, expressionless face told him she wasn’t pleased.

  “Very well, I shall say what I have to say,” she said coolly. “You have been cruel, Zachary.”

  “Me, Lana?”

  “Yes. How could you go off like that and let us—let your brother—think you were dead?”

  Zach looked toward Steve, who sat motionless, a label suspended over a seed packet, his head turned toward Lana. Zach couldn’t see his brother’s expression.

  “Did you know that Steven hired detectives to search for you?” Lana continued. “That he placed ads in newspapers? Month after month, hoping for some word? And when no word came, he ran checks of hospitals and morgues and cemeteries? Did you know that? Did you?”

  He had never heard his mother this emotional except for that day on the porch, the day he’d told her he’d be damned if he’d stay her son, the day he’d left. Interesting that she didn’t know what he’d already told Steve and Annette—that he’d seen some ads, that he’d eluded the detectives.

  “I knew.”

  Her hand rose as if to go to her throat, but dropped to her side.

  “How could you…never to answer them…?”

  All faces turned toward him.

  “I needed to be away. From here, from…”

  Lana drew herself up, head high. “From me.”

  He didn’t look away. “Yes. From you. And from what you demanded I be.”

  “You are a Corbett. You have a responsibility, an obligation.”

  “Responsibility? Obligation? Why? For being born into this family? For that I’m supposed to abdicate any thought of being myself or deciding what I want my life to be? Like hell.”

  “Your father—”

  “No, don’t lay this on Ambrose. This is all you, Lana. Always has been. Some bizarre cult of the Corbetts that exists more in your mind than anywhere else. Why it’s so damned important to you I’ll never—”

  “To make Ambrose proud.” Her voice rose. “To give him the one thing I could give him after all he’d given me.”

  Silence dropped onto the room. And with it, Lana Corbett’s icy control returned. With perfect posture she pivoted. She reached toward the table behind the sofa, as if she might steady herself, but snatched her hand back without touching it. Only after she’d turned down the hall out of sight did Zach realize that her hand had been shaking.

  He became aware of the room slowly digging out of its shock.

  “Only you can make that woman fall apart, Zach,” Steve muttered.

  “That is not fair, Steve,” Fran snapped.

  Every eye went to her. Color marked her cheeks, and she sat straighter. Zach’s mouth twitched. His calm, cool Fran had some serious fangs. Maybe Kay was right about her being a tiger underneath.

  Steve stared at her as if she’d grown another head along with the fangs. Miss Trudi took a sip from her teacup, but he thought he’d seen her smile.

  Annette stepped into the breach.

  “Steve didn’t mean that as criticism, I’m sure. Did you, Steve?” At her prompting, Steve came back to life.

  “No—no, I didn’t mean… It’s that the only times I’ve ever known my mother to lose her temper have been with Zach. And that’s a skill—to make Lana Corbett lose her temper and be honest.”

  “That sounds almost as if you envy Zach the ability,” Fran said.

  Zach stared at her. What the hell? Steve envying him?

  “You might be right,” Steve said.

  This time the silence was the uncomfortable kind that came when people have said or heard too much.

  Suz was the one to break it. “We better get back into gear or we’ll never finish this.”

  In a flurry of relief, they returned to their assembly lines. But Zach caught sight of a shadow flitting across the darkened kitchen area. A shadow about the size of a nearly eight-year-old who’d been listening to everything.

  Rob and Kay headed upstairs after helping with the cleanup, giving Fran her opportunity.

  “Zach, I’d like to talk to you.”

  “Seems like you’ve been doing your best to avoid talking to me.”

  Protests and denials bubbled up. She pushed them back where they belonged. “We can sit on the porch.”

  “Okay.” He stopped at the door. “You need a jacket or something.” He’d taken the trash out and still wore a denim jacket.

  Swallowing the temptation to argue, she took an old barn coat from a peg inside the basement door.

  On the porch she sat on the loveseat beside the whelping box and gestured for him to sit across from her. He sat beside her on the loveseat instead. She refused to let that dent her calm determination.

  “I’d like to talk to you about something that happened tonight.”

  “If it’s about Lana—”

  “It’s not. Although you were very hard on her, Zach. Maybe you have some justification for being cruel after the way she treated you growing up, but what does it accomplish? And if she was doing what she thought was best…” She let it die, because of his mulish expression and because she had something else to say. “But that isn’t why I asked to talk with you.”

  “Good. It’s too nice a night to talk about Lana.”

  Since it was cool and damp, she suspected he considered any night too nice to talk about his mother.

  “What I want to talk to you about was your jumping into the conversation about the garden book and—”

  “They’re asking too much of you. You should tell them no.”

  “Don’t you tell me what I should and shouldn’t say yes to. That’s exactly what I want to tell you not to do. You
’re as bad as Rob.”

  “What does Rob say you shouldn’t say yes to?”

  “I’m not going to get into that with you.”

  “Because you know I’ll agree with him?”

  “I don’t care if you and Rob and all of Wisconsin line up and agree—I’ll decide what I want in my life.”

  “Okay. What do you want?”

  He’d handed her an opening. She wouldn’t be passive Fran waiting for him to walk away. She would say the words that would send Zach Corbett running for the hills.

  Before she could get any more foolish ideas.

  She cleared her throat and wet her lips, but his gaze dropped to her mouth. She had to start over. This time without looking at him. If she didn’t see his eyes, it wouldn’t matter if he looked at her mouth.

  Except that his look had left a sparkling tingle on her lips, and she desperately wanted to slide her tongue over them again to taste it.

  Nonsense. Absolute nonsense.

  “I’ll tell you what I want, Zach Corbett. I want a baby.” There, she’d said it. “I want several babies. I want to be a mother.”

  “And a wife? Do you want to be a wife? Does a husband fit into this?”

  “Yes.” She said it fast. No turning back. “I want a husband, too. And I might just want a white picket fence.”

  She waited. She had the strangest feeling he was waiting for something, too. But what? She’d said her piece. He should be backing out the door, if not running full tilt. Instead he sat and looked at her.

  She sat up straighter. “So what have you got to say to that?”

  “Sounds like good things to want.”

  “Is…is that all you have to say?”

  “Well.” He drawled the word out the way he did sometimes now. “I might mention there are a fair number of picket fences in Virginia.”

  Though her lips parted, no sound came out.

  He brushed two fingers into the hair at her temples, his eyes trained on the movement as the strands slid free. She shivered as the ends tickled her skin.

  “Zach…”

  He feathered his fingers down the side of her throat.

  “Hmm?” he murmured against the sensitive skin below her ear.