by Deb Kastner
Full stop.
Not a relationship. Not a friendship. Nor even acquaintances, as far as he was concerned.
He didn’t think he’d ever be able to completely forgive Ange for what she’d done, but he had put it all behind him. He’d made his peace and had moved on with his life.
Why dredge it up now?
To be completely honest, Rowdy hadn’t been sure how he would feel if he ever saw Ange again—or if he’d feel anything at all.
Well, now he knew.
And he didn’t like it.
As his past rose to meet him, anger and indignation waged a war in his chest, like dueling pitchforks, parrying back and forth, jabbing sharp points into his heart.
Then he took a breath and the stabbing pains morphed into an ache so deep it left a gaping hole in its wake.
How could merely seeing Ange again so easily stoke to flame all the emotions he’d thought he’d tucked away long ago?
He was an even-keeled man. Not much threw him off-balance one way or the other.
Except for one thing—one person.
Ange had the singular ability to knock him off-kilter.
She’d always been able to do that.
In the past, he’d thought that was a good thing.
Now he knew better.
He remembered his helplessness and hopelessness when he watched her ride off on her horse after their wedding rehearsal—one of the matched set of horses meant for them to depart on after their wedding—leaving him quite literally in the dust.
She hadn’t even had the courtesy to look back and wave goodbye.
And now she’d suddenly returned...why?
Rowdy was desperately attempting to corral the emotions stampeding through him like a herd of wild buffalo with a pack of wolves on their heels. It took all his effort to keep his voice low so he wouldn’t startle the baby.
“What’s the deal here, Ange? Why did you buy me at auction?” he whispered, his voice low and raspy.
Her blue eyes widened, her expression sincerely stunned.
Hurt even.
As if she had the right to be.
“Before I answer that question, I think we’d better take Jo’s suggestion and head back to where the picnic basket is located. It’s not a lot of privacy, but it’ll give us a little more than we have standing here. I don’t know about you, but I’m not feeling very comfortable right now with everyone’s eyes on us and all of them listening to every word we say.”
She nodded toward the crowd. True, many had turned back to watch the next bachelor take the stage—the twentysomethings who didn’t remember the night Ange had single-handedly ended her tumultuous relationship with Rowdy.
But there were a few furtive glances and murmurs aimed their direction.
Rowdy shrugged. He wasn’t the one who needed to feel uncomfortable. He hadn’t done anything wrong. If some of the older townsfolk had long memories, that wasn’t on him.
Still, he nodded in agreement and followed her to a bench well out of the main stream of the celebration, where a festive picnic basket bedecked with baby blue pastel ribbons was waiting for hungry picnickers—which Rowdy wasn’t. His gut felt like lead.
An infant car seat and a yellow-giraffe-themed diaper bag covered the rest of the bench, marking it out for Rowdy and Ange’s use.
Ange picked up the car seat and set it aside on the ground next to the bench, and then did the same thing for the diaper bag, gesturing for him to sit in the space she’d opened.
She remained standing, shifting from foot to foot in a slow, rhythmic rocking motion as she pressed a kiss to the forehead of the infant she was holding in her arms.
“Okay,” she said, blowing out a breath. “I have no idea what just happened back there. Though I expect Jo might be able to answer that question, eventually.”
“You aren’t the one behind this—whatever this is? You didn’t buy me behind everyone’s back?”
“Absolutely not. Why would I do that? I only came to town to settle Granny’s estate.”
He wasn’t sure he believed her, no matter how adamant her refusal. And though he didn’t like it, the way she’d worded her statement about not wanting to buy him stung his ego.
“Well, you didn’t bother to come to Granny Frances’s funeral.” He knew it sounded like an accusation, and maybe it was. “So I have to ask myself why you would suddenly show up now.”
Pain flashed across her gaze and she shifted her eyes away from him.
“I couldn’t come,” she murmured.
He waited for more of an explanation, but none appeared to be forthcoming.
“Can you hold the baby for a minute while I set things up?” she asked, pressing the infant into the crook of his arm before waiting for his answer.
“Uh. Yeah. Sure,” he said, seconds after the fact.
He shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t know how to hold a baby—at least a human infant—and he felt like an awkward giant made of all thumbs. His gut churned.
He was used to bottle-feeding little lambs, and this tiny bundle of humanity lying in the crook of his arm was a whole other thing entirely.
“His name is Toby.” Ange’s rich alto was warm and filled with pride and wonder when she spoke of her son. “Toby Francis, after Granny.”
Rowdy pushed the pastel green receiving blanket off the baby’s forehead so he could see his face better, and a jolt of realization slashed through him.
Toby was...
Ange hadn’t said...
“Yes,” she affirmed in a whisper, reading the recognition in his eyes. “Toby has Down syndrome.”
Rowdy’s throat tightened. He was even less familiar with Down syndrome than he was with babies in general, but while this little guy was alert he wasn’t fussy, and after a moment, Rowdy’s heart calmed.
“He’s beautiful,” he said, and meant it.
Rowdy brushed a finger over Toby’s silky white-blond hair, a shade lighter than his mother’s. His almond-shaped blue eyes had popped open at the sound of Rowdy’s deep voice and were now staring up at him with interest. The little guy’s mouth was nearly wide enough to fit his entire tiny fist, and he was loudly sucking on his knuckles.
Ange’s eyes widened at Rowdy’s compliment, as if she didn’t hear kind remarks very often. And maybe she didn’t. People were strange when it came to anything or anyone different than they were.
Special needs freaked some people out, but it didn’t bother Rowdy. As far as he was concerned, all humans carried the same dignity because they were made in the image of God. Different was beautiful.
She smiled sincerely, apparently satisfied that he meant what he said.
Rowdy always meant what he said.
“I know, right?” she whispered after a moment. “He’s such a sweetheart. The biggest blessing in my life.”
As little as Rowdy knew about babies, his being a perennial bachelor, he knew enough to realize infants were a challenge for any new mama or daddy, even the experienced ones. He’d watched all of his friends get married and have babies, and seen their slow adjustments to the learning curve called parenting.
Rowdy’s closest friend, Danny Lockhart, complained nonstop about having to stay up all night with a fussy infant who had her days and nights mixed up—and then in the next breath he’d proudly show her off, forgetting whatever trials he faced at two o’clock in the morning.
So it seemed strange to Rowdy that Ange would choose to return to Serendipity, where she had no real support as a single mother. Her parents had moved away long ago, not that they were ever terribly supportive of her. And he doubted, given the past, that Ange had many friends here, either, as horrible as that was to think.
Was Toby’s father in the picture?
If so, where was he? Holding down the fort in Denver while Ange visited Seren
dipity?
She didn’t have a ring on her finger. Rowdy didn’t have much use for men who didn’t marry the woman they intended to start a family with.
But that was a discussion for another time.
Rowdy had so many questions that he didn’t even know where to begin.
As Ange prepared the picnic lunch, Rowdy studied her face. The telltale dark circles under her eyes and the lines of stress creasing her brow suggested her life hadn’t been easy on her.
She looked older than her twenty-nine years, but she was nonetheless beautiful enough to make Rowdy’s stomach flip as he attempted to rein in the physical attraction he’d always felt toward her.
That much, at least, hadn’t changed. He’d always seen the inherent beauty in her that she didn’t see when she looked in the mirror.
But it was the only thing that hadn’t changed. And he had no idea what she saw when she looked in the mirror these days.
“How’s Toby doing?” she asked as she popped the top on a can of Rowdy’s favorite soda.
“Sleeping again. He’s really cute. Still sucking his fist, even when he’s napping.”
Ange handed Rowdy the soda and took Toby into her arms, landing a soft kiss on his cheek before gently placing him in his car seat so she and Rowdy would have their hands free to eat.
“Still your favorite?” she asked, gesturing toward his soda can.
He lifted the can in salute. “I’m surprised you remembered.”
Another flash of pain crossed her gaze. “I remember a lot, if truth be told.”
So did he.
And he really, really wished he didn’t. Because with every unexpected glimpse into their past, every unanticipated memory, it became harder and harder to catch a breath.
He hadn’t been ready to see Ange again.
And he wasn’t sure he ever would be.
Chapter Two
Angelica settled cross-legged on the bench next to Rowdy and set her plate in her lap.
“It isn’t just the soda.” He gestured with his fork to incorporate all the food on his plate. “This is my favorite meal—barbecued pork ribs, fried okra and mashed potatoes in a thick brown gravy.”
“The meal was my suggestion, but I can’t take credit for the cooking. I can’t cook a thing. On my own, I subsist on deli chicken and pizza made from spaghetti sauce and cheese toasted on a slice of bread.”
It only now struck her, as she was going on and on about her usual diet—which Rowdy could probably not care less about—that she had unconsciously asked for Rowdy’s favorite meal when Jo had asked her what to pack for the picnic today.
Her breath hitched. All these years, and Rowdy’s favorites had still come to mind.
“This delicious meal is all straight from Cup O’ Jo’s. Chance cooked the food and Jo packed and decorated the picnic basket.”
“A baby theme? Clever.”
“It’s cute,” she agreed. “Will you please say grace for us before we start the meal?”
His fork clattered to his plate as he gaped at her in astonishment.
Angelica wasn’t surprised by his response. She had grown up a PK—a preacher’s kid. Back when she and Rowdy were dating, she was as rebellious as the day was long and wanted nothing to do with church.
Or God.
That had all changed the day she found out she was pregnant with Toby. Suddenly God was very real to her. How else could she explain the tiny human being fearfully and wonderfully formed within her womb?
When she’d told Josh, the father of her child, about their baby, he had scoffed at her, called her horrible names and insisted the child wasn’t his. When he walked out the door, he had walked out of her life. And good riddance to him.
Josh had known he was the only man in her life, the only man she had been with ever, because she had only given in to him after months of pressure. But he hadn’t wanted to accept the responsibility of fatherhood or the effects it would have on his freewheeling lifestyle. He didn’t want to be tied down with a family.
So he’d simply denied the truth and disappeared.
In a way, Angelica felt she deserved that rejection and in the long run God had been looking out for her. It was better for her and her baby not to have been permanently locked into what had never been a healthy relationship to begin with.
God alone had been her constant companion after Josh had left her. She had a few work acquaintances from the high-end hotel in which she was a white-gloved banquet server, but by throwing herself into Denver’s nightlife she’d never made any real connections, and she’d let those few friendships lapse when she’d started dating Josh.
Angelica pulled her thoughts from the past and focused her attention on Rowdy.
“I know what you’re probably thinking. Have I really changed, or am I just trying to unsettle you by asking you to say grace?”
His gaze widened and then his brow furrowed, a frown gathering on his lips. He put his plate aside.
“You said it, not me.”
Toby stirred and Ange set her uneaten food aside to scoop him into her arms. She shuffled through the diaper bag until she found a bottle of formula, giving it a good shake to make sure it was well mixed.
“Discovering I was pregnant with Toby changed my world,” she said, glancing up at Rowdy. “And I mean all of it. I realize I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my past. I’ve hurt people—”
Her gaze dropped to Rowdy’s hands. He was clenching the edge of the bench until his knuckles turned white.
She felt bad for him, but unlike with Josh, she had no fear of him losing his temper. Unless time had completely changed him, he wasn’t a man who would fly off the handle. He was self-controlled and even tempered, even with the woman who had broken his heart.
“Hurt you,” she finished, swallowing hard.
His muscles tightened until his shoulders visibly rippled with tension, and her own stress increased.
“Is this some kind of twelve-step program or something? You’re here because you have to make amends?”
“What? No. I’m here to pay respects to Granny, since I was having Toby on the day she passed away. That, and to settle the estate. I already know there is nothing I can do or say that would change how you think about me and what I did to you.”
Angelica knew her words alone would mean nothing to the man sitting next to her on the bench, the man she’d once loved with all her heart and who had once loved her. He had been prepared to commit his life to her.
He would never know how much she’d sacrificed, and all because she’d loved him.
Toby batted the bottle in her hand, reminding her that she had a hungry boy to feed.
“I’m sorry. There you go, sweetheart,” she murmured, pressing the bottle to Toby’s lips.
“He’s a noisy eater,” Rowdy observed, apparently deciding to keep their conversation at a casual level for the time being.
“He sometimes has trouble latching on and getting his lips where they need to be to get good suction.”
“Because he has Down syndrome?”
Ange nodded, but she wasn’t dismayed by the fact. Toby was just Toby, her son. “Every day is a new adventure with this little guy.”
“And your parents? How do they like their new grandson? They must be proud.”
“They don’t know about him yet,” she admitted, her heart clenching and heat rising to her face. “You probably know that they left the parish here in Serendipity for a small town in Wyoming shortly after I left town.
“My dad pretty much disowned me when I acted so awfully to you in such a public way, because in his mind my actions rubbed off on him. And I guess in a way he is right about that. I was the reason he took a new pastorate far away from Serendipity. I’ve tried reaching out to Mom, but she doesn’t dare cross him, not even for my sake.”
“So, you don’t see them then?”
“No. Not at all.”
He shook his head. “That’s a shame.”
“It is.” She shook her head. “It’s frustrating, but I take full responsibility for my own actions. I don’t like to see my family torn apart, but I can’t blame them for distancing themselves from me.”
She scoffed. “I thought I was so worldly, leaving Serendipity behind and going off on my own, but in truth, I was way out of my element from the day I got to Denver. A preacher’s kid from a small town? I had no idea what I was getting into and was practically swallowed alive. At first, I didn’t want to stay at all.
“But of course, there were even more reasons I couldn’t come home—er, back to Serendipity—when things in Denver didn’t turn out like I’d planned. Not after...well...”
His eyes snapped to hers. She held his gaze but then had to look away for a moment as guilt flooded through her.
With a deep breath, she returned her gaze to his.
“Obviously, I had no intention of seeing you today. But here we are.”
“Here we are,” he repeated. He narrowed his eyes on her. “So now what?”
* * *
Rowdy’s emotions were run ragged and frankly, he had had enough. It was all he could do not to bolt from the scene like a skittish lamb.
He lifted his bruised and battered heart to the Lord.
God, help me.
A short, concise prayer that said it all.
Ange had returned to Serendipity, no longer the pretty girl with a chip on her shoulder who he’d once known and loved, but a striking, mature woman—and a mother with a newborn baby who had seen her share of rough times.
She hadn’t said anything about Toby’s father, but Rowdy knew better than to make any assumptions.
Right now, he just hurt, a relentless ache that started in his heart and radiated through his limbs.
“The envelope,” Ange said, digging into her back pocket. “Maybe that will give us a clue.”
He raised his brows. “A clue to what?”
“What we’re supposed to be talking about. Jo slipped me an envelope when she handed me the—er—lariat. It’s from Granny and addressed to both of us. The first one only had my name on it.”