“Do you know if Will...has his condition changed?”
“No,” Caroline said from behind him. “Dialysis and prayers are still the status quo.”
He acknowledged her words with a curt nod and stepped inside the house, trying not to feel as though the life he’d known there had been an illusion.
* * *
ARDEN HAD EXPECTED a polite interrogation, but Brandon wasn’t asking her any questions. Was he waiting until they were seated at the lunch table, or until he’d had a chance to discuss the facts with his son first? At some point, Brandon or Caroline would ask Arden how far along she was or when she was due and they’d be able to piece together that Arden had jumped into bed with him immediately after meeting him. Would they mentally brand her a shameless hussy? Would they assume it was typical behavior of hers, sleeping with men she didn’t know? Might they even worry she was some kind of gold digger who’d schemed to entrap a cattle baron?
Oblivious to her inner monologue, Brandon Frost seemed content to squire her through the long hallway leading to the dining room. The walls were covered with pictures of Garrett through the years. The Frosts obviously doted on their son.
Her mood brightened when she spotted an eight-by-ten of Garrett in elementary school, grinning at the camera with that mischievous smile Arden knew. In the photo, the smile revealed that his two top front teeth were missing. “That is so cute! He’s adorable.” Since she had no idea whether she was carrying a boy or girl, she rarely imagined what her child might look like. But suddenly she had a visual. Oh, how she’d love to have a miniature version of this face glowing up at her as he told her about his day.
“Adorable?” Garrett echoed from down the hall. “Hale, hearty cowboys such as myself are not adorable.”
She tapped the frame. “This picture says otherwise. I may have to start calling you cutie-pie.”
“You may also have to walk back to Cielo Peak,” he responded.
Brandon clucked his tongue. “No talk of leaving yet! You two just got here.” He gave Arden a knowing smile. “When he took off last week, with very little explanation, I wondered what was so important in Cielo Peak. Guess now we know. Reckon you’ve been meeting him on those periodic weekend trips he takes?”
“Actually, no,” Garrett said. “There’s nothing romantic between me and Arden.”
Her face flamed. She’d entertained the far-fetched notion that springing her on his parents like this was minor revenge for his mother’s affair. It was slowly dawning on Arden that she might have had the right idea but the wrong target. At the moment, it seemed an awful lot like a vindictive response to her hiding the pregnancy.
She wasn’t the only person who’d gone red in the face. Brandon’s expression had also grown ruddier. “Oh. But I thought...” His gaze, full of confusion, fell to her stomach.
“It’s your son’s baby,” she confirmed, raising her chin imperiously. Irritation with Garrett bolstered her confidence. “Perhaps the more accurate statement would have been there’s nothing romantic between us now.” Or ever again. She blasted Garrett with a fulminating glare, then—proud of how serene she sounded—told Caroline, “Something smells wonderful.”
“She made Garrett’s favorite,” Brandon said.
Seeming eager to move on and dispel the tension, he led them into the dining room. A dark cherry oval table had been set with plates and silverware. Goblets of ice waited to be filled with beverages, and the sweet buttery aroma of cornbread wafted from the woven basket at the center of the table.
“I’ll get the sweet tea while Caro checks on the casserole,” Brandon said pointedly. He might as well have held up a sign declaring that he was giving Garrett and Arden a moment alone.
She wasted no time. Maybe some women employed the silent treatment, but she’d been raised by two brothers who’d taught her how to stand up for herself and, when the occasion called for it, swear like a sailor. “You ass,” she hissed. “Is this why you didn’t want to tell them ahead of time that I’m pregnant? Because you thought it would be more fun to make everyone uncomfortable and paint me as some kind of skank with loose morals?”
“Fun?” he echoed in an incredulous whisper. “Explaining a baby I knew nothing about until this week to a mother I can barely look in the eye and a father who’s no relation to me? Yeah. Good times, Arden. Fine, maybe I could have used a smoother approach—”
She snorted.
“—but I will not lie to them about us. They deserve better. And so do you,” he said unexpectedly. “I could mislead them about our relationship, but, trust me, you don’t want that. Feeling like someone’s secret, waiting for the other shoe to drop...”
Her anger slipped a notch. Garrett had been wonderful at the doctor’s yesterday and for most of today. She’d known this homecoming would be challenging for him. Maybe it shouldn’t have caught her off-guard that his terse explanations had been so graceless.
“And nobody who spent as much as thirty seconds with you could think you’re a skank,” he said earnestly. “I meant what I said to my parents. You’re special. My dad never takes to people that quickly.”
Bemused, she took her seat at the table while Brandon filled everyone’s glass with tea. Sometimes there was such tenderness in Garrett’s tone, yet other times, contempt flashed in his eyes. She recalled what he’d told her after the dinner with her brothers, that he didn’t want to be a bitter, angry man. She could see him wrestling with the ways he’d been wronged. She hated that she’d contributed to that inner struggle.
Caroline returned with some kind of cheesy chicken casserole that made Arden’s mouth water. The two women sat across from each other, while Garrett and his father sat on either end. Both men had removed their hats for the meal and set them on a side table.
Settling her napkin in her lap, Caroline looked at Arden. “I probably should have thought to ask before now—you don’t have any food allergies, do you? Or foods you can’t tolerate during pregnancy?”
“I’m avoiding shellfish and a few other items for the time being, but mostly, I can eat everything. And this looks delicious.”
“Thank you.” Caroline ladled a portion of the casserole onto her husband’s plate and passed it back to him. “There are so many people in our church now with dairy or nut or gluten allergies. I never know what to bring to potluck anymore.”
“I feel terrible for the Sunday school teacher, Bess Wilder,” Brandon said. “Poor woman’s allergic to chocolate. She’s never once been able to eat Caro’s award-winning brownies. Our friend Will has it worse. Diabetic.” His expression grew shadowed. “’Course, now he has more to worry about than just missing out on dessert.”
Arden noticed that Garrett had gone stock-still, his entire body rigid. And Caroline’s gaze darted between her husband and son—she looked like a trapped animal that didn’t know where to run. Garrett had said his biological father was diabetic and a family friend. Her heart squeezed in sympathy. It couldn’t be easy to bite back the truth whenever Will’s name was mentioned.
She wished she was sitting closer to Garrett so she could hold his hand or rub his shoulder. A silly impulse, perhaps, since patting his shoulder would do nothing to improve his circumstances, but she wanted to lend him strength. The way he had at her doctor’s appointment yesterday.
Arden couldn’t help stealing glances at Garrett throughout the meal. He’d barely eaten a bite, even though the recipe was supposedly one of his childhood favorites. Brandon ate almost absently, spending most of his time studying his wife, a concerned frown creasing his brow.
It seemed up to the women to make conversation, and Arden wasn’t surprised when the first question came.
Caroline set her fork down. “So, the two of you met at Hugh’s wedding? Are you a friend of—what’s his wife’s name?” She glanced toward Garrett, who acted as if he hadn’t heard the q
uestion.
“Darcy,” Arden related.
Brandon chuckled. “Freckled Hugh Connor, the kid who used to squeal in terror if his folks tried to make him ride a pony at the fair. Can’t quite picture him as a married man.”
“Well, he’s grown now.” Ostensibly, Caroline’s reply was for her husband, but her gaze was locked rather desperately on Garrett. “His pony phobia was years ago. The past isn’t always relevant to the present. I’m sure he’s a much different person.” Her every sentence and gesture seemed an attempt to reach out to her wounded son, who continued to silently stonewall her. It was painful to watch.
Arden wondered what the future held for her and her own unborn child. Would she ever do anything her son or daughter couldn’t pardon? That would cut a mother to the quick. “I wasn’t actually there as a guest,” she told Caroline. “I was the photographer.”
“Photographer, huh?” Brandon asked. “That an interesting line of work?”
“Some days, it’s more interesting than I’d like. I learned early on that any portrait sessions including children or animals tend to be unpredictable.”
“And do you like working with children?” Caroline asked. Her voice was tinged with sadness. Because of the current strain between herself and her now-grown child?
Arden squirmed in her chair, trying not to dwell on her tortuous afternoon with the Tucker twins. “I love it.” Mostly.
“If you don’t mind my asking, will this be your first child?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Our first child,” Garrett said unexpectedly. “I should have figured out sooner a better way to tell you that I’m going to be a father. To be honest, I’m...still adjusting to the idea myself.”
“Well, becoming a father is momentous. And becoming a grandpappy?” Brandon looked delighted at the prospect. “Hell, Caro, we’re getting old.”
“Speak for yourself.” She sent him a mock scowl, and he grinned back at her. Despite today’s undercurrents of tension, it was evident the two of them were crazy about each other.
“How about your folks?” Brandon asked Arden. “Are they excited to have a baby on the way? Do they have grandchildren already?”
Her eyes burned with emotion. “My mother died when I was five, and my father followed her into heaven a few years later.”
“Oh, you poor dear.” Caroline’s tone was distraught. “You’re all alone, then?”
“Not completely. I have two older brothers. I’m sure they’ll be good uncles.” Assuming Colin was around. His growing restlessness scared her. What if he jumped on that damn motorcycle and disappeared, convinced his siblings were better off without his gloom and damaged psyche?
“We’ll love the baby enough for two sets of grandparents!” Caroline vowed.
“We plan to register for baby stuff soon,” Garrett said, “so you’ll have opportunities to start spoiling your grandchild even before he—or she—gets here.”
“You don’t know the gender?” Caroline asked. “How soon can they tell that?”
“I wanted to wait until the baby’s born to find out,” Arden said. “I don’t care if it’s a girl or boy, as long as the little peanut’s healthy.”
Brandon nodded. “I’m proud to have a son to carry on the ranch and the family name, but I would have loved a daughter, too.” He gave Arden a smile so welcoming that her throat constricted. For a split second, she felt a wave of utter belonging.
She was confident these two people would love her child, and she wanted that for the baby. The chance for grandparents was a gift she wouldn’t have been able to offer as a single mom. But it hurt, the Frosts’ acceptance of her. It was a cruel tease, showing her something she hadn’t had in a long time but couldn’t keep.
Or was she, as Layla would say, borrowing trouble? Life was short. Perhaps she should try to appreciate the blessing of this day and take the future as it came.
“Caroline, can I help you with the dishes?” she offered, wanting to repay their hospitality.
“Absolutely not!” Garrett objected. “There were multiple reasons I brought Arden home with me this weekend, but a major one was to keep an eye on her and make sure she doesn’t overexert herself. Dr. Mehta says her blood pressure is too high. He didn’t go so far as putting her on strict bed rest, but she’s supposed to stay off her feet.”
Brandon studied her, seeming to sense her frustration. “Don’t you fret. Maybe I can’t give you the standard walking tour of the ranch, but we can take the Gator.”
She stared at him blankly.
“All-terrain vehicle,” Garrett clarified. “We’ve got several kinds of transportation on the ranch, from tractor to snowmobile, but my favorite mode has always been horseback. I’m getting up early tomorrow to ride the perimeter and check fencing. See if there are any repairs we need to make before the serious winter weather rolls in.”
“I’ve never been riding,” she said. “I think I sat on a horse to get my picture taken at a birthday party when I was little, but that’s about it.” Justin and Colin had loved skiing and snowboarding. They’d been more eager to get her on the slopes than in a saddle.
“After the baby comes, maybe we—” Garrett stopped, catching himself. Whatever the future held, Arden doubted his girlfriends down the road would be thrilled about him spending recreational time with his former one-night stand. Even if—especially if—she was the mother of his child.
He recovered admirably, making it look as if he’d interrupted himself to say something else. “Hey, Dad gave me an idea. You wanted to register for baby gifts, but the doc said to stay off your feet. Don’t most big stores have those motorized carts now? You can drive from one end of the store to the other.”
She knew he meant well, but the suggestion highlighted the grating powerlessness she’d felt ever since the doctor said she had to cancel her jobs this weekend. It was mortifying to feel helpless, prohibited from simple tasks like dishes and shopping. Plus, though she was reluctant to admit to such pettiness, motoring around on one of those carts would chafe her ego. She was a young, comparatively athletic woman in the prime of her life! It had been bad enough standing next to Garrett while that crop-topped blonde with the bejeweled belly button flirted with him. She could just imagine following him around like some giant parade float while lissome salesgirls fawned over him and offered their assistance.
“Another option,” Caroline said, “is to register online. We like not living in a city, clogged with traffic and malls, but I have to admit, being able to use the internet for shopping makes it a lot easier.”
“Oh, yeah,” Brandon grumbled good-naturedly. “She can whip out a credit card and buy anything her heart desires at any hour of the day. Hurray.”
“So I suppose you want me to cancel those gifts I ordered for your birthday in November?” Caroline teased. She swung back to Arden. “Speaking of November, do you have plans for Thanksgiving, dear?”
“Only if you count having a baby,” Arden said, trying not to gulp. She couldn’t wait to meet her child, but thinking about the birth process was still daunting. She kept trying to skip over that part in her mind and look forward to Christmas. Last year had been the first holiday season since Natalie’s and Danny’s deaths; Arden hadn’t even dredged up the energy to put up a tree. She and Justin had exchanged gifts and toasted each other with heavily spiked eggnog. Colin had insisted on being alone. This year, she planned to celebrate the biggest gift of her life.
“I’ve read all the recommended books,” Arden said, “and I’m signed up for classes through the hospital, but I’m a nervous wreck.”
“I understand completely,” Caroline admitted. “The whole time I was carrying Garrett, I was convinced something would go wrong again.”
“Again?” Arden asked.
“Oh! I...is that what I said?” Visibly shaken, Caro
line bolted from her chair and carried her plate to the kitchen.
Brandon excused himself, gathering up more dishes and leaving to check on his wife.
Arden glanced at Garrett, who seemed confused. Had Caroline been pregnant before she had him? “Do you know what that was about?” she asked softly.
He shrugged. “Not a clue.”
“Maybe we should give them some space,” she suggested.
When Caroline returned a few minutes later to ask if anyone had room for dessert, Arden shook her head. “Actually, I’m more tired than hungry. I was just asking Garrett if we could take our stuff to his house. I may stretch out and take a nap.”
“Of course. You two just come back when you’re ready this evening. We’ll have dinner and maybe play some card games.” Her smile lacked its previous luster, but she was obviously trying to project cheer. “Have you ever played pinochle, dear? Brandon and I are formidable. Regional champs.”
“Never tried it, but good to know I’ll be learning from the best,” Arden said.
“Thank you for lunch, Mom.” But Garrett didn’t so much address Caroline as the pale blue wall over her left shoulder.
As they left, Arden snuck one last glimpse at Mrs. Frost, who stood alone in the center of the dining room, shoulders slumped in dejection. She was staring down, so Arden didn’t get a look at her expression, but her body language was clear. She was a woman with a broken heart.
* * *
“MY HOUSE ISN’T very big.” Garrett pulled their bags from the truck, feeling foolish for having stated the obvious. His house had always been more than adequate, focused on the exact luxuries he wanted and none of the unnecessary extras his mother had given up suggesting—like vases or “curio cabinets.” What the hell was a curio? “It’s kind of like yours, actually. So the peanut should feel right at home.”
HER SECRET, HIS BABY Page 11