by Cindy Kirk
Lindsay frowned. “Is one of the boys in trouble?”
When Clint Gourley had been in the house, Cassie’s two older boys had had some behavioral issues. But once Cassie kicked Clint out, things seemed better.
“No.” Cassie cleared her throat. “I didn’t go there about the boys. I went there for me.”
Lindsay didn’t like to pry, but the way she figured it, if Cassie didn’t want to talk about it, her sister wouldn’t have brought it up. “What’s going on?”
“I don’t like who I am.”
Lindsay inhaled sharply, then covered it with a cough. She lifted her tumbler of water and took another drink. Cassie hadn’t had an easy life, but Lindsay thought she’d been doing better.
As if she could read her mind, Cassie smiled. “Seeing Dr. Gallagher is a positive step.”
“Then I’m glad.” Lindsay reached across the table and covered her sister’s hand. “I hope you know you can count on me.”
Cassie’s fingers curved around Lindsay’s for a second, then she pulled back. “I know.”
Lindsay forced herself to breathe normally. “What made you decide to see a counselor?”
“Clint contacted me. He asked me to come to the prison. He wanted me to bring Axl.”
“What did you tell him?” Despite a thousand hummingbirds beating against her throat, Lindsay sounded calm.
“I told him no.” Cassie’s gaze was steady. “I almost said yes. Even after all that happened, I almost said yes. That scared me.”
“You did the right thing.”
“This time. I want to be a good mother. I don’t want to make more mistakes.” Cassie’s lips trembled for a second. “I spoke with Dan. He thought it might be helpful for me to meet with a professional. He suggested Dr. Liam Gallagher.”
Lindsay had never met the man, but she remembered Hadley mentioning him. “Isn’t he a child psychologist?”
“Kids are his specialty, but his practice includes adults.”
“What are you two looking so serious about?” Owen scooped the little boy up and deposited him back into the booster.
“Just sisterly stuff.” Cassie turned to her son. “Did you wash your hands?”
The boy nodded vigorously. “I went potty and poopy.”
“That’s fabulous.” Cassie shifted her attention from her son to Owen. “I owe you.”
“It was no trouble.” Owen lifted his glass of tea and smiled at the boy, who’d grabbed two cars and was reaching for a third. “He’s a good kid.”
Cassie ruffled her son’s hair. “I want to do right by him.”
“That’s what it’s all about.” But Owen’s gaze now rested on Lindsay, not Cassie. “Doing what’s best for your child.”
“How do they make those potatoes?” Owen asked once they’d paid the bill and said good-bye to Cassie and Axl. “I can’t recall tasting anything so good.”
“They’re an Ami Cross special creation. You take a baked potato out of its skin, mash it up, add butter and cover the potato with creamed corn.” Lindsay slowed her steps to the truck, not in a hurry for the evening to end. “The bacon, onions and peppers that top the meatloaf while it cooks are added to the corn.”
Owen’s eyes lit up. “Can you make them?”
Lindsay nodded.
“I could bring over the ingredients one night, and we could make dinner together.”
“With sourdough bread and meatloaf, too?”
“Of course.” He grinned. “And cherry crisp with ice cream for dessert.”
“It’s a deal.” Though everything in Lindsay warned her to keep her distance, Cassie’s words kept circling.
Her sister wanted the best for her children, just as Lindsay wanted the best for her baby girl. That meant she and Owen needed to be cordial and on the same page.
They walked in silence, but neither stopped when they reached the car. The warm air held the tangy scent of drying leaves mixed with pungent evergreen. Streetlights added a golden glow, while banners hawking the Harvest Festival gave a cheerful feel to the business district.
“We haven’t discussed our parenting question yet.” Lindsay was tempted to let it go, but reminded herself this was the sole purpose of her spending time with Owen.
“We could wait, do it next time?”
Lindsay shook her head.
“Okay.” Owen’s warm smile had her knees going to jelly. “Lay one on me.”
“I don’t have the list with me, but I remember one of them was, ‘Where does help from the grandparents fit into our plan?’” Lindsay didn’t want to lead with her mother. “Let’s start with your parents. You mentioned once that they were involved with Mindy’s care when she was an infant.”
“They lived in Good Hope at the time.”
“You said your mother watched Mindy while you worked and Tessa was in class.”
“My mother was finishing her dissertation. Mindy’s birth came at a good time.”
Lindsay’s heart gave a ping. As opposed to this baby’s birth.
She dug deep, determined to get through this discussion without giving way to emotions. “Do you anticipate they’ll come back to Good Hope for our child’s birth?”
Owen frowned. It was apparent he hadn’t even considered the possibility. “I never thought of inviting them.”
Lindsay felt her face warm. She waved a hand. “That’s okay. It isn’t as if—”
He captured her hand in his, and her breath lodged in her throat. “If you want us to discuss these questions, we need to discuss, not shut down when the conversation gets difficult.”
The heat infusing her face spread. Diverting from a controversial or possibly contentious topic had become a specialty of hers.
“You’re right.” She swallowed past her embarrassment. “I’ve played the peacemaker between my sister and mother for so long it’s become second nature.”
“I can’t speak for them, but between us there’s no reason to avoid touchy subjects.” He gave a little laugh. “And my parents are definitely a touchy subject.”
He resumed walking, and Lindsay fell into step beside him. With a comment like that, the ball remained in his court.
“I love them.” Owen shook his head. “But they wanted a different life for me than the one I pursued. They ask about the business, but it’s only for form.”
He paused for so long, Lindsay wasn’t certain he was going to say more. They crossed the street to the town square, where they continued their walk under branches heavy with leaves of gold, orange and red.
“I’m not saying they aren’t interested in my life. But usually when I mention the garage, they always manage to bring up how well my sisters are both doing. It feels dismissive. When Tessa—” He stopped himself. “Doesn’t matter.”
Lindsay looped her arm through his. “Tell me.”
“When Tessa was here, it was different.” Owen slanted a glance in her direction. “My parents admired her drive and her passion for success. That’s why I have no doubt they’ll love you, too.”
Passion for success? Those weren’t words Lindsay would use to describe herself. Little ice prickles of alarm skittered across her skin. Did Owen see her as a driven career woman?
She considered setting him straight, thought about telling him that she’d gone into business for herself only because she saw no other options. But she remained silent. The last thing she wanted was for him to worry she couldn’t earn enough to care for her child.
“As far as them coming back when the baby is born, I doubt it.” He gave her arm a squeeze. “Will it bother you if they don’t? I mean, you’ll have your mother and sister. And, of course, me.”
The flash of a smile didn’t erase the worry in his eyes.
Lindsay ignored his question, swallowing against the rising lump in her throat. “Cassie will be a good resource, but she’s busy with her own kids and her job.”
“What about your mother?” Owen’s voice remained neutral, a huge accomplishment considering he’
d been on the receiving end of her mother’s sharp tongue many times.
“She’ll insist on being involved.” Everything in Lindsay went cold at the thought. “She’ll sweep in and take over and complain how I’m not doing anything right and I’ll feel even more inept.”
The rapid rush of emotion rising inside her had her continuing instead of clamping her mouth shut. “Then she’ll rush off, and I’ll be there alone with a baby who’ll be crying because she feels my stress and—”
“Let me make one thing clear.” Owen turned her head to face him with a gentle, warm hand on her cheek. “You won’t be alone. I’ll be there. If Anita proves a problem, I’ll speak with her.”
Lindsay shook her head. “My mother. My responsibility.”
“Then we’ll speak with her together.” Owen’s eyes held reassurance and a warmth that beat off the chill. “You’re not in this alone, Lindsay. We’re a team. A family. That means neither of us is going down this path alone.”
Lindsay hesitated. Owen appeared sincere, but it was clear he hadn’t looked far enough down the road ahead. “You’ll always be an important part of your daughter’s life.”
“I hear a ‘but’ in there.” Though his tone held a light, teasing quality, a wary watchfulness had invaded his hazel eyes.
“But we won’t be a family. Not in the traditional sense, anyway.” Even as her heart cracked open and began to bleed, Lindsay reminded herself nothing good came from holding on to old dreams. “You’ll be busy building your own life, apart from me and our daughter.”
When he opened his mouth to speak, she lifted a hand. “In time, you’ll fall in love and get married.”
He started shaking his head before she finished speaking.
Stubborn man, she thought with more than a little exasperation.
“You will,” she insisted. “I want that for me, too.”
Puzzlement filled his eyes. “You want me to get married?”
Just the thought had the crack in her heart splitting wide open. When tears pushed against the backs of her lids, Lindsay determinedly blinked them back.
“I was referring to me. I hope one day to find someone special. A man I’ll dearly love who will love me back just as much.”
If she never found that special guy, that was okay, too. She would always have her family, her friends and her career. This spring, she would have a baby girl to shower with love.
No matter how she looked at it, she was incredibly blessed.
After what seemed an impossibly long moment, Owen nodded. “I want that for you, too.”
The second the words left his mouth, Owen wondered how a simple parenting conversation had gotten so far off track. While he wished Lindsay only the best that life had to offer, did they really need to be talking about her future with another man?
Their baby should be her focus and his.
If she wanted to talk marriage and family, he had solid arguments in favor of them forging a family unit. While thoughts of love obviously appealed to Lindsay’s romantic nature, what about friendship and mutual respect? That was a far better foundation for a successful marriage than love.
He nearly brought up that point, but the determined gleam in Lindsay’s eyes had him swallowing the words.
In business, Owen had learned the value of knowing when to push a point and when to let the other person come to a necessary realization in their own time.
Eventually, Lindsay would see that the arrangement he’d proposed was the best option. Not only for them, but for their child as well.
Twelve
The parking spot, reserved for visitors to Good Hope High, gave Lindsay a front-row seat to the mass exodus. The principal had been right. Staff and students didn’t hang around on Friday afternoons. Once the bell sounded, they poured out the doors.
Seeing three girls walking together, arms looped, brought memories of her own high school days. She, Eliza and Ami had been inseparable.
A wave of yearning for those simpler days washed over Lindsay as she slipped from her car and headed inside. She checked in with the office, then returned to the entryway to wait for Owen. Fifteen minutes later, she watched him park next to her car and hop out.
She thought he’d come straight from work, but his sweater and jeans told her he’d stopped home to change. Either that, or he’d been doing paperwork all day.
He moved in long, confident strides up the walkway, the wind pushing his sandy hair in a dozen directions at once. When he drew close to the school and spotted her standing inside the glass entryway, his lips curved.
Lindsay felt a tiny flutter deep in her belly. A visceral reminder that she needed to guard her emotions. She wasn’t yet immune to his charms.
Pulling open the door, he stepped inside.
His eyes held an admiring glint. “You look nice.”
“Back at you.” Lindsay kept her tone light. “I was surprised when Eliza said you’d been assigned to help me with this project.”
“I think the assignment may have been at Gladys’s instigation.”
Lindsay inclined her head. “What makes you say that?”
“When Gladys dropped off the apples, we got to talking about homecoming. It came up that I was on the championship team with Krew.” Owen shrugged. “She asked if I was involved with any of the planning. I told her no.”
“A red cape in front of a bull.”
“What?”
“Gladys believes everyone in Good Hope should be involved in community activities.” Lindsay’s lips quirked upward. “Saying you weren’t, well, it was like waving red in front of a bull.”
“I don’t mind.” Owen rocked back on his boot heels and glanced around. “Especially since being on the committee means I get to see you.”
Lindsay tamped down the surge of pleasure, reminding herself the only reason he wanted to be with her was the baby.
“We’re here today to check on the progress of the homecoming displays.” Lindsay’s tone turned businesslike. “I need to make sure the clubs are on track.”
Owen’s gaze returned to the endless hall. “Where are the displays being stored?”
“In the gym.”
“Let’s take a look at them.” He flashed a smile. “Then you can tell me how I can help.”
“I’m not sure there’s much for you—”
“Being here brings back so many memories,” Owen interrupted and started down the hall. As he walked, his sweeping gesture encompassed the shiny floor tile in a speckled tan pattern and the lockers that lined both sides of the hallway. “How do they do it? Even after being filled with kids all day, the aroma of floor wax and cleaning solvent comes through.”
He was gazing at her so expectantly that Lindsay obediently sniffed. Her lips curved. “Just like perfume.”
“Not a scent I’d suggest.” He winked. “Just sayin’.”
Lindsay laughed. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Somehow, his palm ended up against the small of her back as they meandered down the hall. “I can’t believe we never talked back in high school.”
“You were a year older,” she reminded him.
“That isn’t much.” He studied her face. “Of course, you were way out of my league.”
Lindsay made a scoffing sound. “I was in Cooking Club. You were a football player.”
“Anyone could have been on the team. If a student had a pulse, they were welcomed with open arms.”
“You won the big game when you kicked that field goal.”
“How do you remember that?”
Lindsay shrugged. “I thought you were cute.”
Something in his eyes softened. “I wish I’d gone up and talked to you.”
Their gazes held for several long seconds.
She waved a hand. “Not meant to be.”
“Back then.”
Lindsay opened her mouth, then shut it. There was no point in covering old ground. Owen knew the score. They would never be more than a man and a woman with a ba
by in common.
“Tell me about the displays.”
His request diverted her attention back to the task at hand.
“Each high school club was encouraged to do one.” Lindsay held up her hand and began ticking off her fingers as they continued to the gym. “National Honor Society, Future Business Leaders of America, Chess Club, Cooking Club, Math Club and Photography Club."
“Other than the Cooking Club, those are all ones my dad pushed.”
Lindsay cocked her head. “Which ones did you join?”
He grinned. “The Football Club.”
Then, before she could ask, he added, “My parents weren’t fans of physical sports. They preferred academic pursuits.”
“You were a rebel.”
“It was more a survival thing.” His eyes turned dark. “If I hadn’t asserted myself, my father would have cheerfully run my life. With only the best intentions, of course.”
Lindsay understood parental expectations and pressures all too well. “I’m guessing they didn’t want you to be a mechanic, either.”
“My dad was a college president. My mother was also an academic. The thought of their son being ‘blue-collar’ horrified them.” He offered a humorless chuckle.
“I bet they’re proud of you now. I mean, you’re a very successful business owner.”
“I’m a mechanic.” He met her gaze, his tone flat. “I saw the same judgment in your mother’s eyes when we dated. She wants more for you than a man who works with his hands.”
“Don’t get me started on my mother.” Lindsay jerked open the gym door, but waited for Owen before stepping into the cavernous room. “Believe me, if I dated a primary-care doc, my mom would be disappointed he wasn’t a specialist.”
Owen laughed and followed her across the gym to the far wall.
She paused in front of a scarecrow contemplating a chess move. She wasn’t sure how it related to homecoming, unless that part was yet to be added.
Lindsay moved to the next display. A scarecrow wearing a chef’s hat stirred a big pot. The sign read, “Stirring up a victory.”
“Let me guess.” Owen pointed a finger. “Cooking Club.”