Small-Town Girl (Mills & Boon Vintage Superromance) (Mills & Boon Superromance)

by Carmichael, C. J.

  Watching the flurry of emotions on her mother-in-law’s face was almost amusing. After years of suppressing her true thoughts, Betty was obviously itching to let loose. But she also had to realize that once spoken, her words could never be retracted.

  “I never said that.”

  “No, you didn’t.” But neither did the older woman offer any contradiction.

  Julie felt oddly calm as she waited for Betty’s next move. In truth, she didn’t care what Betty did. The two of them had never had a decent relationship. They’d lost nothing today.

  “Well, you’ve made your position clear. I’ll be leaving and you can be sure I won’t be back.”

  At least we both know exactly where we stand now. Julie closed the door gently. Then, unexpectedly, started to cry.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  RUSSELL SAT ON THE EDGE of the bed and watched Julie pack. She had to leave early the next morning, by five, to arrive in Regina in time for her eight o’clock flight. He hated the idea of her going, even for only a few days. The house always seemed to expand when she was gone. He noticed empty spaces that never got to him when she was there.

  She smoothed a wrinkle from a pale-blue silk shirt that he loved her in. “Your mother stopped by today.”

  “And how was she?” he asked tentatively. His mom and Julie had never hit it off. He’d hoped by living in the same town they’d have the opportunity to get to know each other. To like each other.

  “She seemed fine.” Julie placed the blouse into her suitcase, then stood tall. She wasn’t looking at him exactly, but hadn’t focused on anything else, either. “I don’t know how to put this. We had words, I guess.”

  “Words.” He digested that a moment. “You mean you fought?”

  “Or you could say we actually spoke the truth to each other for the first time since we met.”

  “The truth? God, surely not.” His effort to inject a little humor fell flat, as had his effort to foster a good relationship between the two women he loved. Obviously, asking his mother to drop over to visit Julie every now and then hadn’t been such a great idea.

  “My relationship with your mother was doomed from the start. She wanted you to marry Heather. You must have known that.”

  Oh, no… He didn’t want the conversation to turn in this direction. He’d had different plans entirely for this evening. Making love. Talking. Falling asleep with his wife in his arms.

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  Julie sighed. Because he’d avoided her comment about Heather? Or because he’d sounded like a petulant child with that last statement?

  She tucked a pair of navy shoes into the corner compartment of her suitcase, then lowered the lid. “It’s only for a few days.”

  But was it? Suddenly he was filled with panic. What if Julie was lying? What if she intended to leave and never come back?

  He longed to ask her for reassurance. Instead, he helped her do up the zipper to her suitcase.

  RUSSELL AWAKENED BEFORE DAWN to see Julie off. He’d gassed up the car last night, checked the oil and the tire pressure. Now he watched her reverse the car out of the garage onto Lakeshore Drive. She paused for a moment, waved, then headed west toward the Yellowhead highway. Soon the car was nothing but a speck…then gone. The wooden porch floor felt cold against his bare feet.

  He ducked inside and went to the kitchen. Julie had already brewed coffee for her travel mug. He helped himself to a cup and sat at the table, overlooking the lake.

  Julie’s complexion this morning had been terribly pale; her demeanor, unhappy. So many unspoken words had hovered between Julie and him as they’d kissed goodbye—a polite, chaste kiss that didn’t express nearly what he wanted it to.

  “Love you, Jule. Drive carefully.” That was all he’d said. Not Please come back. I can’t live without you.

  He’d asked too much of her to move here. He’d expected her to leave behind a job, a house, a city and friends, all of which she’d adored. He’d asked for Ben’s sake; that was the lie he’d told himself. But actually his motives had been selfish. He’d used Ben’s accident as an excuse to relocate his family to this town where he’d grown up.

  He’d been happy here once, and he was again. Ben and he had taken to the place like a duck in a lake.

  Only Julie was miserable. And now she’d left.

  At eight, Ben wandered into the kitchen. Russell had fallen asleep, his head cradled in his arms on the kitchen table. He awoke with a stiff neck and pushed aside the cup of cold coffee.

  “How are you doing, buddy?”

  “Hungry.” From the cupboard, Ben pulled out the box of his favorite cereal. “Is Mom gone?”

  “Yeah, she left hours ago. Her flight should be leaving about now. Before noon she’ll be in Vancouver.”

  “Wow! It took us two days of driving to go that far.”

  Ben dumped cereal into a bowl, then milk. Sitting next to his father, he asked, “Can we have burgers tonight? And homemade French fries?”

  Russell always served the same menu when Julie was out for the evening. Julie hated burgers. And she preferred to bake strips of potatoes in the oven, rather than use Russell’s deep fryer.

  “Sure. Why not?”

  Ben grinned and Russell thought how little it took to make a nine-year-old boy happy.

  “Oh, and Craig asked if I could go to his place for a sleepover tomorrow night.”

  Tomorrow was Friday. “I guess that ought to be okay.” He knew Craig’s family operated a dairy farm out beyond the golf course. The experience would be good for Ben. A real eye-opener.

  But that would leave him alone for the evening, and the next morning, too. Something he hadn’t been since they’d moved to Saskatchewan. Considering his options, for the first time Russell felt a tinge of regret for the life he’d left behind in the city.

  Chatsworth didn’t offer a host of recreational activities. He didn’t want to hang out at the local bar. Curling and hockey hadn’t started yet. And there was no nearby movie theater.

  He could always drop in on his mom and dad. Without Julie or Ben around, though, his mother would be sure to fill him in on her side of the conversation she’d had with Julie the other day. And he wasn’t ready to deal with that yet.

  So he would rent a movie and heat up a frozen pizza. He could handle one lousy night on his own. It would probably be good for him.

  FROM HER SEAT IN THE BACK of a taxi, Julie reflected on the differences between the town she’d just left and the city she’d returned to. In Chatsworth the trees were now bare of leaves and frost came every night, even though that first snow had long since melted. Here in Vancouver, autumn had no stronghold. Julie saw green grass, a few still-blossoming marigolds and petunias, green leaves clinging on many trees and vines.

  As the taxi lurched from one red light to another, Julie window-shopped along the long stretch of Granville Street from the airport. Displays of home furnishings, women’s clothing and fine art tantalized her.

  In Kitsilano, Julie had the driver drop her off on Fourth Street. Here, she strolled up one side of the street, then down the other. She purchased books, magazines, a T-shirt for Ben. Finally, at twelve-thirty, she made her way to Quattro, to meet the gang from the magazine.

  As she walked into the Italian restaurant, the scents of garlic and tomato engulfed her in warm, familiar welcome. She thought of Russell—this had been one of their favorite restaurants—then brushed off the nostalgic sadness as she spotted Gina waving from a table by the windows.

  “Julie, over here!”

  Gina had changed her hairstyle—more wispy, fresher. Suzanne had a great suit—purchased for the job interview in Toronto, maybe? Also sitting at the table were Graham, one of the magazine photographers, and Jennifer, the art director. Julie noticed Graham sported new eyeglasses and something seemed different about Jennifer, too, although Julie couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.

  “Oh, I’ve missed you guys!” Julie went round the table, hug
ging them all, before settling at her seat next to Gina.

  “You look great. Small-town living must agree with you.”

  “I look the same. I haven’t bought so much as a new color of lipstick since we left town. You guys are the ones who look terrific. Tell me everything that’s happened since I left. Don’t miss a thing.”

  They all laughed. It wasn’t possible, of course. And yet, Julie wished it were. She hated feeling so out of touch. E-mail was great, but it couldn’t replace personal interaction.

  Over appetizers Gina discussed her new roommate, who just happened to work for a trendy hair salon—hence the new “do.”

  “It’s lovely,” Julie said. She considered mentioning that she, too, had met a hairstylist in Chatsworth. But strangely, turning Adrienne into a joke didn’t feel right and she ended up just listening as Graham recalled a photo shoot they’d recently completed for the spring cover.

  That was the magazine world for you. While everyone around them focused on the upcoming fall and winter holidays of Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas, they were already dreaming of spring colors and furnishing trends.

  Over the main course—slender strips of pasta and fresh mussels—Julie found out what was behind Jennifer’s new glow.

  “Glen asked me to marry him last week.”

  “Oh, that’s splendid! I’m so happy for you.”

  Jennifer held out her left hand and Julie admired the diamond.

  Finally, with coffees, Suzanne discussed the details of her new job with Toronto Life, as well as the future of their own West Coast Homes.

  “You’d be a shoo-in to replace me,” she told Julie. “If only—”

  In the expectant silence, Julie rearranged the cutlery in front of her. “Our plans aren’t exactly definite,” she said finally. “I’m going to talk this over with Russell.”

  “That’s terrific!”

  “I knew you’d never last a year out there….”

  “Wait until I tell—”

  Julie put up a hand to stop the flow of comments. “Nothing’s definite. Please keep this between us.”

  They wouldn’t, though. And she realized it. She should have kept her mouth shut. She hadn’t even mentioned the job opening to Russell, let alone discussed the possibility of applying. And what about her pregnancy?

  Somehow, not thinking about any of those things seemed easier. Managing editor of West Coast Homes was her dream job. And these people were not only colleagues, but dear friends, too. For a little while she wanted to pretend she wasn’t just visiting this world. She belonged again.

  “YOU DON’T SEEM VERY EXCITED about the prospect of pregnancy.”

  “Not this time, Eva.” Her doctor was the one person Julie felt she could be totally frank with.

  “What’s wrong?” Eva removed her stethoscope, then folded her arms across her buttoned-up lab coat.

  “It isn’t a good time for our family. Ben’s still recovering from his injuries and we’re all trying to adjust to life in Chatsworth. Things between Russell and I have been…strained.” Admitting the problems out loud should have been a relief. Instead, Julie felt the knot in her midsection begin to burn.

  She and Russell were having troubles. Not run-of-the-mill marital ups and downs. But real trouble. They’d lost the ability to communicate. To be intimate. Now just a touch or a kiss required so much effort.

  “We’ve had other complications in our life to contend with, too.” She alluded to Russell and Heather’s baby and the subsequent adoption, without going into the actual details.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. I’d hoped this move would be a good thing.”

  “Ben and Russell are happy.”

  “But not you?”

  “No.” Julie stared at her hands, which lay folded in her lap. “Maybe I haven’t tried hard enough. It’s only been a couple of months.”

  “Another baby could be a blessing in disguise,” Eva suggested.

  “Possibly. But it might also be a disaster.” What if the situation between her and Russell continued to deteriorate? She didn’t want him to feel trapped into staying in the marriage for this new baby’s sake.

  And what about the time and energy to work on their relationship? With an infant to look after, they’d have precious little of either.

  Always pragmatic, Eva put her hands on her hips. “So what are you suggesting to me, Julie? If that test comes back positive—and based on everything you’ve told me, it’s certain that it will—what do you intend to do?”

  Eva had beautiful, compelling brown eyes. But Julie couldn’t force herself to look into them. Instead, she gazed at the closed slats on the blind covering the window. A part of her wanted to beg Eva to tell her what to do. But that wasn’t an option. They were talking about Julie’s life here. Julie’s body. No one else could make this decision for her.

  “Do you know of a clinic you would recommend?”

  Eva was silent for a long moment. Then she pulled out her prescription pad and wrote a name and an address. Before handing it to Julie, she jotted something on a second sheet of paper.

  “Vitamins,” she said. “In case you change your mind.”

  FRIDAY’S MEETING in the office boardroom passed in a blur for Julie. She tried to concentrate, but her doctor’s appointment yesterday and the other appointment she’d made for tomorrow afternoon were omniscient worries.

  She couldn’t believe she’d had the nerve to call the clinic Eva had suggested. She wasn’t actually going to take care of this on her own, behind Russell’s back. It was impossible.

  Or was it?

  She felt odd, as if she’d split into two distinct people. The person who wouldn’t dream of terminating a pregnancy, of doing anything important behind her husband’s back—that decent, good person was temporarily gone.

  Someone new, someone harder and colder, was in charge. This new person only cared about one thing: protecting the family she already had. Ben needed her and Russell to stay together. Ben would not benefit from sharing their time with a demanding infant.

  Protecting Ben meant—

  No, even the new woman inhabiting Julie’s body could not actually think the words. But could she show up at the clinic at the appointed time? Could she tell the people who worked there that she didn’t want this baby? That she was certain?

  Julie’s palms were sweating. She glanced at her notes but found them only meaningless scribbles. As the room fell silent, she realized she must have been asked a question, and she quietly said, “Could I ask you to repeat that, please?”

  Stephen Parker, the magazine’s publisher, smiled indulgently. “Not being shy, are you, Julie? Suzanne has indicated you might be in the running for managing editor. Is this true?”

  No logic could help Julie now. Her mind and emotions were in a terrible tangle. Fortunately the new woman, the tough one, was quick to take over.

  “Definitely,” she said.

  And the meeting was adjourned.

  SATURDAY MORNING, JULIE missed her hair appointment. She didn’t even call to let the stylist know she wouldn’t be showing up. In a far corner of her mind she felt guilty about that. But as she wandered the streets around one particular address on Granville, other anxieties took precedence.

  She couldn’t believe she was here. She wasn’t actually going to do this. She couldn’t. The very idea was insane.

  Yet what was her alternative?

  She couldn’t have a second child. Not because of the precarious state of her marriage. She accepted now that that had been just an excuse. The truth was she didn’t deserve a second child. She’d failed Ben and her mistake had cost him so much. All these months of pain and suffering and dogged effort he’d been forced to endure to regain the talents and skills that had been his birthright.

  Was this how fate rewarded a woman who had almost destroyed her first child? By giving her a second?

  Julie paced along the sidewalk, passing the residential homes to the east of Granville Street. A few
times she noticed people giving her concerned glances. Well, she knew she looked odd. This morning she hadn’t showered, so her hair was a mess. She’d just thrown on clothes. At a downward glance, she noticed her silk blouse had come untucked. The hem of her skirt seemed uneven. She remembered feeling something pull when she’d slipped out of the back seat of that morning’s taxi. She must have caught a thread.

  But she didn’t care.

  At ten minutes to one, she found herself in front of the clinic. Thank goodness no protesters were marching at this moment, although she saw a few discarded signs in a parking space that suggested someone had been present already this morning.

  Never had a door seemed like more of a barrier. She wasn’t going to push through and go inside that place. She tried to imagine herself walking up to the receptionist. Hi, I’m Julie Matthew. I’m here to get rid of my baby….

  She started to cry. Out on the street, for God’s sake. What was the matter with her? Oh, why hadn’t she packed any tissues? What was she going to do? Only crazy people stood on the street, crying. But she was afraid to step over that threshold. Afraid that the other woman inside her would take charge. She’d give her name, and she’d wait calmly for her turn in the doctor’s office.

  No! No! She couldn’t let that happen. She had to—she had to—

  Call a cab.

  The concrete, simple solution calmed her. She opened her purse and unzipped the compartment where she kept her cell phone.

  She would get a ride back to the hotel and have a bath. Then, when her chest didn’t feel so tight, when she could breathe again and manage a rational sentence, she would phone Russell. She’d tell him about the baby, about the job, about everything. She’d tell him that she loved him and—

  The cell phone rang in her hands.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  HE’D DRIVEN HER OFF. Why hadn’t he realized earlier what he was doing? Basically he’d forced Julie into this move to Chatsworth. Then hit her with the news that he’d fathered another child with an ex-girlfriend. On top of all they’d gone through with Ben, was it any wonder Julie had cracked and gone running to Vancouver?