Jackpot Baby

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Jackpot Baby Page 18

by Muriel Jensen


  “You’re very special, Shelly,” he said, touching her cheek with paternal benevolence. “You learned all the skills your parents had for running a good, welcoming place, but you acquired other skills they sometimes let slip in the interest of the business. I know they loved you very much, and I mean them no disrespect, but there should have been more fun in your life and less restaurant. There were times when you should have come first.”

  He pinched her chin. “But you’re smart enough to put your family first, to give, even when it isn’t convenient. To open your heart to people as well as your place. What you did for that little girl and that baby was heroic. I’m so proud of you.”

  “It was just…right,” she said, waving off the praise.

  “Right is often the hardest thing to do.” He kissed her forehead and zipped up his coat. “And sometimes—” he bumped his knuckle against her chin “—you have to think hard to know what the right thing is for you.”

  “And I suppose you know what that is for me,” she said, walking him to the door.

  He nodded. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’ve gotten so smart lately. See you tomorrow.”

  Everything ready for the following day, Shelly counted out the till, put the deposit in the safe and was about to call Connor, when he knocked on the door.

  She let him in, whatever security she’d once felt in their relationship rushing out as the cold night air rushed in.

  “Valerie and Max get home okay?” she asked, pulling off her apron.

  “Yes. They went to bed early.”

  “Did she bring you your coconut cream pie?”

  “She did.”

  She’d walked into the back as they talked. She hung up her apron, reached for her coat and turned to find him right behind her.

  “I saved it to share with you,” he said.

  “You did?” She clutched the coat to her as her heart began to race. She mustn’t read too much into that. He’d said he loved her. He just didn’t want to marry her. Well, she had to straighten him out on that score. “Did you know that sharing coconut pie is a betrothal ritual to the seagoing natives of Burundi?”

  He took her coat from her and held it open. “There are no seagoing natives in Burundi,” he said. “It’s a long way from the ocean.”

  “Hmm.” She buttoned her jacket and dug into her pocket for her hat. “National Anthropology Magazine has misinformed me.”

  In a move she didn’t see coming, he snatched the hat from her, took her into his arms and kissed her until she had to wriggle free and gasp for air.

  “You can shine me on about that,” he said, holding her close by the collar of her coat, “but don’t lie to me about this. Do you love me?”

  “Yes,” she answered breathlessly.

  “And do you think of us as bricks held together by mortar, or as—”

  “Two flowers in a vase,” she supplied quickly. “I’m a rose and you’re a sort of…snapdragon.”

  He kissed her again and she knew without understanding why he had just been waiting for her to be ready to marry him.

  “Then…” he said when he drew away, as breathless as she was “…I’d like to hear that proposal again.”

  She could barely muster the air to form the words. “Will you marry me?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “Did you know that in the betrothal rituals of the snowbound Laplanders, though it’s traditional for the woman to propose marriage, the prospective bridegroom still offers her a ring of engagement?”

  “I didn’t know that,” she breathed. “They must be in collusion about the proposal.”

  “Or he carries a ring in his pocket to be prepared.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  He walked her to the door. “There’s a second step to that tradition.”

  “What’s that?”

  “They seal their promise to each other with gewürztraminer at the Heartbreaker.”

  Her eyes widened. “How did you know I like that?”

  “I read it,” he said, leaning close enough to kiss her again, “in National Anthropology Magazine. Come with me.”

  “Anywhere,” she said as they stepped out into the cold night air. She locked the door, pocketed her keys, and he caught her hand and led her across the street to the Heartbreaker.

  When he pushed the door open, she was a little surprised to see almost everyone she knew there. They each came through at some time or other, but seldom all at once.

  She suddenly understood why, when they shouted, “Surprise!”

  Connor drew her to the middle of the room where a large white sheet cake and plates sat, the cake bearing the words Congratulations Shelly and Connor in red frosting. Two large entwined hearts crowned by a diamond ring were drawn above the words.

  Dev came to stand behind the table, while her friends crowded around—Dean, Finn and Henry, Jack Hartman, Amanda Bradley, Gwen Tanner and all the ladies from the boardinghouse, Luke McNeil, Ruby Cade and Honor Lassiter. The mayor was there with his wife, but there was no sign of Paula Pratt.

  “Sorry about the mayor,” Dev said quietly as the conversation rose to a deafening roar. “He just happened to be here.” Then he clapped his hands for quiet.

  “Let’s have your attention,” he said. “Dr. O’Rourke has invited us all here because he has something important to say. And he wants witnesses.”

  There was a roll of laughter, then quiet when Connor reached into the breast pocket of his jacket. He held up a sparkling round-cut diamond in a simple gold setting. “Shelly,” he said with a gravity that made her focus on his eyes. “Will you marry me?”

  “But I just asked you,” she pointed out in a whisper.

  “As Dev said,” he whispered back, “I want witnesses.”

  “Yes,” she replied as their friends laughed.

  He took her left hand and slipped the ring on her third finger. Then he took her in his arms, dipped her sideways with theatrical flair and kissed her.

  Cheers rose and shook the rafters of the Heartbreaker.

  “When’s the wedding?” Amanda asked as Dev began to slice and serve the cake.

  “Valentine’s Day,” Connor replied.

  Shelly hugged him tightly at that. “You certainly have all the answers,” she said.

  “Where you going on your honeymoon?” Nathan asked.

  Shelly looked up at Connor, wondering if he had an answer to that, too.

  He reached into his breast pocket again and withdrew an envelope that he handed to her. “You can answer that one,” he said.

  She opened the envelope, pulled out two round-trip tickets and gasped when she read their destination.

  “Tuscany!”

  Breathless, she opened a brochure for an Italian cooking course at Casa Ombuto included with the tickets. Pictures showed a beautiful villa, a swimming pool, students eating around a candlelit table.

  “‘Learn pasta to pastries,’” she read. “‘Fifty kilometers south of Florence. Saturday to Saturday. Four hands-on cooking sessions, a visit to the vineyard, to a local producer of olive oil and a shopping trip.’ Connor!”

  She couldn’t believe it. The trip she’d dreamed of.

  “But,” she asked worriedly, referring back to the brochure, “are you going to be one of the ‘nonparticipating partners enjoying the sights and golfing?’ On our honeymoon?”

  “No.” He wrapped his arms around her again. “I’m enrolled, too. I want you within arm’s reach, even if I’m a poor student and have to be the class ‘go-for.”’

  “I don’t think that’ll happen.” She laughed and hugged him. “Put the two of us together and we’re cooking, even without a stove.”

  Epilogue

  “What’s happening to the church?” Barbara O’Rourke asked, pointing to the scaffolding surrounding it as she, Shelly and Max occupied the back seat of Seth Hollis’s old Buick. Seth was Finn’s grandson, a tall, lanky redhead who now managed to have at least one meal every day at The Brimming Cup.
The attraction, Shelly knew, was Valerie, though the girl maintained she had no romantic interest in Seth, simply enjoyed talking to him. Seth, Shelly was sure, felt differently. Barbara, Connor’s mother, was petite in a dark green coat over a matching dress, and a wispy hat perched atop her head at a jaunty angle. She was kind and funny and, after just two days in her company, Shelly already loved her.

  “It’s one of the ‘Shelly Projects,”’ Valerie explained from the front passenger seat next to Seth.

  “Oh, I heard about those yesterday at the bookstore,” Barbara said. “It’s sort of Shelly’s personal urban renewal.”

  Shelly laughed at that description. “It’s just a little financial aid to a very supportive community. I guess we can’t actually roof until the spring, but in preparation, they’re fixing a few other things—the chimney, the fascia boards, repairing the stained-glass window.”

  After making two circuits of the block the church occupied and finding no parking place, Seth stopped in front of the church and let them off. “I’ll park in front of Shelly’s and run back,” Seth told Valerie. “Save me a place.”

  Amanda ran out to greet them in a royal-blue suit, her parka pulled on over it as protection against the cold. Snow flurried from a leaden sky. She clutched a nosegay of irises and white rosebuds in one hand.

  “They’re waiting for you, Mrs. O’Rourke,” Amanda said, pointing her toward Jack, who stood in the open doorway, serving as usher.

  Barbara gave Shelly a quick hug. “I’m so happy, Shelly,” she said. Jack waved at Shelly as he met Barbara at the bottom of the steps to escort her inside.

  Valerie, too, wrapped Shelly in an embrace. “Good luck,” she said. “It’s going to be a wonderful wedding!” She held Max up for Shelly’s kiss.

  Dressed in a snowsuit patterned like a tuxedo, Max smiled widely, showing his two perfect bottom teeth. Shelly took his little face in her hands and kissed his cheek.

  “No screaming until after the ceremony, okay?” she said.

  “We’ll do our best.” Valerie reclaimed him and shooed Shelly away. “Hurry. I hear the organ. See you after.”

  “You nervous?” Amanda asked, hooking an arm in Shelly’s and walking her around to the side door.

  “No,” Shelly replied honestly. She felt wonderful. She, Connor, Valerie and Max were coexisting beautifully. The sting of having to abandon her plans to adopt Max had been replaced by satisfaction at the new happiness in Valerie, and at the anticipation of starting her own family with Connor. Valerie and Max, of course, would always be part of it.

  And she was about to leave for three weeks in Tuscany. Life was about as perfect as God would allow.

  “Good. Because everything’s under control in the church. Mary Kay and Paula are devouring Jack with their eyes, the mayor was sort of campaigning before he went inside, trying to generate interest in some announcement he’s going to make early in March, Wyla predicted you and Connor will never last, sour grapes, of course, because she stopped playing the lottery before you all became millionaires. She’s been so vocal about it, whatever sympathy we might have had for her is gone. And the hospital in Pine Run paged Nathan and he had to remind them that he’s serving as a best man today.” She grinned at Shelly as she pulled the door open for her. “All’s copacetic in Jester. Oh. And Harvey Brinkman’s here, but Connor pulled him aside, and I’m not sure what he said to him, but his color still hasn’t come back.”

  Life in a small town, Shelly thought. Why would anyone want to live anywhere else?

  She walked into the dark, quiet hallway where Dan, almost unrecognizable in a suit, waited for her. He caught her hands, smiling with a pride that was almost paternal. “You’re beautiful!” he said.

  She’d gone back to Pine Run several days ago for a simple ivory wool suit she’d tried on on her shopping trip with Connor. She’d loved its simple lines, small gold buttons and tulip neckline, but thought it impractical. It was perfect, however, for a wedding.

  She’d topped it with a little ivory derby with pearls in the hatband.

  “Thank you,” she said, squeezing his hands. “You look handsome, too. Watch out for Mary Kay and Paula.”

  He smirked. “I’m a little over the hill for them.”

  Amanda nudged him with her shoulder. “I’m into older men. Would you promise to treat me like a queen and indulge my every whim?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. Then, never mind.”

  Shelly tapped her punitively with her bouquet of white rosebuds. “Quit cruising for hunks at my wedding.”

  The squeak of the opening side door turned them all in that direction. Connor peered around it.

  Amanda tried to close the door on him. “You’re not supposed to see the bride!”

  Shelly shooed her away and went to join him in the doorway. He looked heartbreakingly handsome in a dark suit. “Something wrong?” she asked in concern.

  He smiled warmly. “Not a thing. I just had to see your face. How are you?”

  “Wonderful,” she replied. “How are you?”

  “I’m wonderful, too. No second thoughts about getting married?”

  “Not one. You?”

  “No. Just wanted to be sure. A lifetime’s a long time.”

  She put a hand to his cheek. “I was just wondering if it’d be long enough.”

  His eyes ignited and he lowered his head to kiss her lightly. “I promise you I’ll make you happy.”

  She brushed lipstick off his bottom lip with her thumb. “Connor, you already have. I’m already yours in my heart.”

  The organ music took on a suddenly louder, purposeful tone.

  “I’m going,” he said, as Amanda threatened to push him out the door.

  Shelly peered around Amanda to keep eye contact with him. Her heart was bursting with the perfection of her life—loving Connor, seeing Valerie and Max thrive, watching small, positive changes take place in Jester while its people remained comfortingly the same. It was more than anyone deserved, but she had it, and she was running with it before anyone noticed and tried to take it away.

  “See you at the altar!” she said as the door closed.

  Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Muriel Jensen for her contribution to the MILLIONAIRE, MONTANA series.

  ISBN: 978-1-4603-6854-1

  JACKPOT BABY

  Copyright © 2003 by Harlequin Books S.A.

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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  * Mommy & Me

  ** Who’s the Daddy?

 

 

 


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