by Shirley Jump
“We need to leave or we will be late for court. Come along, Kincaid.”
Kincaid stood his ground. But inside, his mind was reeling, his heart shattered. Darcy had lied to him. Again. And he’d been the fool to fall for the fairy tale all over again. “I’m not going, Father.”
“What choice do you have? Stay here with the woman who lied to you? The woman who is very likely using you for your money?” Edgar waved toward the car. “Come to court with me. The hearing should take no more than three days. Then you can return, talk some sense into your sister about going back to the city, where they have hospitals and maids, and you can put this entire distasteful incident behind you.”
The driver stepped out of the car and opened the rear door. Kincaid looked back at the cottage. Abby was standing on the porch again. Her face was sad, and her eyes kind. “I’ll be okay, Kincaid. It’s only a few days and I have a couple weeks left. Whit and Grace will be right here, if I need anything.”
Kincaid glanced down the street. A quarter mile away was Darcy and his daughter. Darcy, who had lied to him from the start. He’d held her in his arms last night and thought he was in love again. How many times did he need to learn the same lesson? How many times did he need to let that woman break his heart?
Kincaid gave his sister a kiss, then got in the Mercedes and went back to the life that had never been happy, but had also never disappointed him like the one he thought he had on Fortune’s Island.
Two days.
Jillian had made it two days since she’d broken her engagement with Zach. She kept telling herself it would get easier. But every time she looked at him, or heard his deep voice singing a ballad, her heart broke a little more. He hadn’t come after her—or at least he hadn’t tried very hard—and that alone told her that she had made the right decision.
She woke up the next morning, closer to lunchtime than morning. She lay in bed, exhausted still from the night before, and thought Darcy had to be a zombie or something, because she slept so little and accomplished so much. Jillian liked her sleep, and tried to get as much as possible.
She padded out to the kitchen, put on a pot of coffee, then headed out to the porch to grab the Sunday paper. There was nothing like curling back into bed with some coffee and that thick, heavy newspaper to read. That was her weekend routine with Zach, only she was usually the one who was awake while her musician fiancé slept till almost supper time. In the beginning, he’d slept less, spent as much time with her as possible. He’d talked about moving in, though he never had made that final leap to living with her, opting to keep his apartment. Then as the months wore on and they grew more comfortable in their relationship—translation: sank deeper into a rut—he’d spent less and less time with her, to the point where the most hours she saw him were the ones he spent playing at The Love Shack.
Just as well she’d ended it, she told herself for the hundredth time.
She opened the door, still half asleep, and started to bend down for the paper when she noticed a familiar pair of jeans and scuffed Converse sneakers. Jillian popped back up. “What are you doing here?”
Zach offered her the sheepish grin that had once made her fall in love. He held out her paper. “Bringing you the paper.”
She yanked it out of his hand. “Thanks.” She stepped back and started to shut the door when Zach brought his other hand around to the front of his body.
“And these.”
Jillian stared at the white daisies and told herself that she wasn’t going to be swayed by her favorite flowers. Or the fact that for the first time ever in their relationship, Zach had brought her the flowers she loved instead of the roses she didn’t like. That he was trying to show he’d paid attention. That he cared. Or maybe he just grabbed the first bunch of flowers he saw in the store and got lucky. “I don’t want any flowers.”
“Come on, Jill. Give me a second chance.”
She shook her head. “We are done.”
“Why? We had something good going.”
“Had is the operative word, Zach. We had something good. A long time ago. Then it died. Like a plant that we forgot to water.”
“Well, put these in water and they won’t die.” He held out the flowers again.
“Not right away, but they will in a few days. That’s the reality, Zach. And you just didn’t see it.” She started to step back again, but he moved forward.
“Wait, Jill. Let’s talk.”
She wanted to let that smile and those eyes convince her. She thought of how easy it would be to let him into her house, then into her heart again. She could climb into bed with the paper, her coffee, and Zach, and all this aching emptiness would go away.
But then she thought of what would come in a week, a month, six months. How she would lie in that bed on a Sunday morning while he went on sleeping, how she would come home to an empty house, because he was “unwinding” with the guys after the gig, how she would call him and get his voicemail, over and over again. How she would need him—and he wouldn’t be there. He’d be at a bar or at his place or just…not there.
“We don’t have anything to talk about, Zach.” She pressed the flowers back into his hands. “Goodbye.”
Then she stepped inside her house, shut the door, leaned against it and let the tears fall. She had closed a chapter in a book that she wasn’t done reading, and that hurt. But she already knew how it was going to end, and she’d rather be disappointed now instead of years down the road.
*~*~*
Darcy spent a solid hour agonizing over what to wear, then what to dress Emma in. She took time to tame her curls with some gel and a curling iron, then touched up Emma’s hair, too. All the while she thought about Kincaid and how it had felt to fall asleep in his arms. How much she wanted to wake in them, too, to build that family she’d always wanted. It seemed like he desired the same thing, and the realization made Darcy happier than she could remember feeling in a long time.
Today, she had decided, she would tell him about his father. Then they could get off to a true beginning without any lingering secrets. Somehow, she’d find a way to pay back the money she’d accepted from Edgar Foster, and then his control over her and Emma would end. Especially once he saw that Kincaid wanted to be a part of his daughter’s life. And maybe, just maybe, she could finally have that happy ending she’d never dared to hope for.
Finally, a little after eleven that morning, Darcy took Emma’s hand, and they started down the road. Emma had Elsa clutched under one arm. She’d carried the stuffed dog everywhere, ever since Kincaid gave it to her. “Where are we going, Mommy?”
“To see Mr. Foster.”
“I like him.” She gave the dog a little hug. “He’s really nice. And he has a nice doggie.”
“He does, indeed. I was thinking we could invite him to lunch today.” Then maybe he’d come into The Love Shack again for dinner, and stop by her house again late that night. That was a routine Darcy decided she could get used to. She smiled to herself, and rounded the corner onto the street where Kincaid and his sister were staying. Her heart leapt, knowing she would be seeing Kincaid soon.
“Can he bring Mooch?” Emma asked. “I can feed her some of my lunch.”
“Real puppies shouldn’t eat people food,” Darcy explained. “But how about we stop at the store and buy Mooch some dog biscuits?”
Emma agreed, and started to skip forward. Darcy was half tempted to do the same, because her heart sure felt as light as Emma’s skips. As they neared the house, Mooch roused herself from her nap on the porch, and trundled down the stairs, then over to Emma, tail wagging. Emma broke free from Darcy and ran toward the dog, dropping to her knees and giving Mooch a big hug. Darcy started to tell Emma not to do that because she’d dirty the pretty butter yellow dress she was wearing, then decided Emma looked so happy hugging that dog that it wouldn’t be fair to make her stop.
Darcy gave Mooch a pat on the head as she passed, then headed up the porch stairs. Emma let go of the dog and th
e two of them followed behind Darcy. Darcy knocked, and Mooch plopped down beside Darcy. The dog let out a bark. Darcy laughed. Seemed the dog was just as anxious as she was for Kincaid to answer the door.
But it wasn’t Kincaid who answered the door. It was Abby. His sister’s face softened when she saw Darcy. “I thought he would have called you,” Abby said.
The words sent a flutter of warning through Darcy. “He didn’t call. Is he busy?”
“He…” Abby shifted her feet and looked away. She bit her lip, then turned back to Darcy.
Before Abby even said anything, Darcy knew. Her heart began to break, the hurt running through her like an earthquake. “He…he left?” Darcy asked, then made a mental plea for Abby to disagree.
Instead, Abby nodded her head. “He went back to New York. But just for a few days. Our father needed him to argue a case and…”
But all Darcy heard was he went back to New York. He’d said he was going to stay. He’d talked about forever. And just like that, he was gone. Again.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, wasn’t that what Kincaid had done the first time, too? He hadn’t stayed and fought for her. He hadn’t bucked his father’s rules. He’d accepted her breakup and boarded the first ferry leaving Fortune’s Island. Just as he had today.
Just when she’d fallen in love with him all over again.
*~*~*
Kincaid stood in court in a custom Armani suit, wearing shoes that cost more than some people made in a month, and performed like the circus seal he’d been bred to be. He laid out the case against Lennox Pharma with clear, decisive points, and when he was done, the opposing counsel had gone a little pale. The jury was already nodding their heads, and even the judge’s resigned face made it look like this was a slam dunk.
His father had been right. A few days, at most, and they could wrap this up. If they were successful in their settlement with Lennox, for overcharging customers for years, then there were two other suits waiting in the wings, ones that could net even bigger profits for the firm. The kind of cases that would strengthen the Foster Law Firm as a big player.
Kincaid glanced at the second row of the gallery. His father sat there, with a smile on his face. That was the only time Kincaid ever saw his father smile—when his son towed the family line and did the Foster bidding. But inside, Kincaid felt sick to his stomach. He’d come back to the firm, caved. Instead of going after the life he wanted.
Kincaid took his seat behind the table, and while the opposing counsel launched into his opening argument, Kincaid’s mind wandered to Emma. He wondered what his daughter was doing right now. If she was on the beach or back at Darcy’s house. If she was playing with the stuffed animal he bought her or if she’d already forgotten about the day he’d spent with her.
And most of all, he wondered if Darcy would ever tell her that Mr. Foster was actually her father.
Just the mere thought of Darcy’s name made his heart ache in ways he couldn’t even begin to quantify. He missed her, like he had lost a limb. He’d thought it would be easier this time, after all his father had told him, but no, it was worse. A thousand times worse.
Not just because he had fallen for her again, and fallen so deep, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get over her. But because of the betrayal. He thought he knew Darcy, knew her better than anyone he’d ever known in his life, but he’d been wrong. That knowledge still stunned him.
How could Darcy, one of the most honest people he’d met, turn into someone so cold and calculating? Someone who would use his child to set herself up with a house, a bank account, a future?
Sullivan, seated on Kincaid’s left, nudged him and leaned over to whisper in Kincaid’s ear. “Did you hear that? That idiot attorney of theirs just opened the door to allow us to bring in that evidence about price fixing that we thought the judge would disallow.”
That should be cause for celebration. Yet another nail in the coffin against Lennox. But Kincaid merely nodded, the fire for the argument already cold in his chest. But when the opposing counsel took his seat and it came time for Kincaid to begin his case, he got to his feet in the expensive suit and the expensive shoes and played the role he’d been destined for. Because it was what he knew best.
*~*~*
The divorce petition came to Abby’s doorstep shortly after breakfast on Tuesday morning. Gordon had already included the draft of a hefty settlement and a generous alimony and child support package. Whatever her father had said to Gordon or threatened him with had clearly worked.
Abby put a hand on her belly. “We’re moving forward, kiddo. What say we go look at some houses today?”
The baby kicked, little gentle nudges against Abby’s hand. Abby smiled, then put on some comfortable shoes, grabbed her purse, and called out to the dog. She headed down the stairs and bypassed the car Kincaid had left her, opting to walk downtown instead. It was a beautiful day, with low humidity, and Lord only knew how many more opportunities she’d have to take a long walk in the next couple weeks.
Mooch started barking and ran off as they neared the downtown area. Abby cursed herself for not putting a leash on the dog. Ever since she entered the final month of her pregnancy, her mind had become a jumbled mess, and she forgot things more often than she remembered them. Maybe it was the restless nights, where she barely slept because she couldn’t get comfortable. Or maybe all the extra chocolate she’d consumed in the last couple days.
“Mooch!” Abby called, but the dog kept going, rounding a corner ahead of her. Abby picked up the pace, then slowed when her stomach cramped. She winced, let out a low breath, and pressed a hand against her abdomen. “Whoa, there, cowgirl. I’m just walking fast.”
The pain lingered a moment more, then passed. Abby started walking again, though not as fast this time. “Mooch! Get back here!”
Abby rounded the corner, and saw why the dog had taken off. Her tail was wagging at double speed, and she was licking the face of a very delighted six-year-old. Little Emma giggled and hugged the dog, her stuffed dog forgotten on the sidewalk beside her. Abby grinned at Darcy. “Looks like they are friends for life.”
“Emma loves dogs.” Darcy gestured toward Abby’s belly. “How are you feeling?”
“Sick and tired of being as big as a house. I’m ready for this baby to make her appearance. But not before I find a house to buy.” Abby swiped at her brow. Geesh, when did it get so hot out today? “I was just heading over to the local real estate office to ask about a little house I saw on Bayberry Lane.”
“If you want, I’ll walk with you,” Darcy said. “That way, Emma can spend more time with Mooch.” She bent down, picked up the stuffed dog and tucked it under her arm. “Come on, monkey, let’s take Mooch for a walk.”
“Okay, Mommy.” Emma put a hand on Mooch’s collar and started walking, lecturing the dog about staying close to Mommy and not going too fast, and not crossing the street without looking first.
Darcy ruffled Emma’s hair, and her face softened as she watched her daughter with her canine friend. “You are such a good dog walker, Emma. Mooch is going to be super safe with you.”
Abby had always liked Darcy. She was friendly and open, and real. So unlike the prep school kids Abby had known all her life, and the society women who made up her social circle back on the mainland. Abby hoped that when she had her baby, she’d be half as good a mother as Darcy seemed to be. Regardless of what Father had said or what Kincaid believed to be true, Abby saw a woman who loved her daughter fiercely, and would do whatever it took to put that child first. It was a feeling Abby understood and had from the day she had gotten pregnant. It was what had driven her to finally leave Gordon.
Abby hoped Kincaid realized what an amazing person Darcy was very soon. Before he decided to do anything stupid. Like stay in New York.
“Do you have names picked out?” Darcy asked as they strolled downtown. They passed an ice cream parlor, a dress shop with teeny tiny dresses Abby couldn’t imagine ever fitting into
again, then a deli. The real estate office was just a few more doors down, its jaunty red and white awning like a beacon ahead of them.
“Caroline if it’s a girl. And if it’s a boy…I haven’t thought about that yet. I’m banking on a girl.”
Darcy laughed. “Well, if you do have a girl, I have plenty of baby clothes from Emma that I can give you.” Then Darcy shook her head and her cheeks colored. “What am I saying? You can buy all the baby clothes you need. You don’t want my hand-me-downs.”
Abby touched Darcy’s arm. “I would love to have Emma’s old baby clothes. I think it would be wonderful if my baby wore some of the things that my niece wore when she was little.”
Darcy’s eyes welled and the smile on her face wobbled. “Okay. If it’s a girl, I’ll be by with lots of stuff.”
“I can’t—” Another pain hit Abby. This one harder and faster than the one before. She let out a low moan and stopped walking. She pressed one hand against her stomach, then gripped Darcy’s arm with the other. “I…I think I overdid it with the walking today. Damn that…oh, that hurts.”
Darcy clasped Abby’s hand with both her own. Then a knowing smile curved across her face, and she waited for Abby to breathe again before she spoke. “Honey, that’s not overdoing it. I think that’s labor. Let’s get you to the clinic.”
“Labor? But the baby isn’t due for—” The pain hit her again. This time, she started to curse, then bit off the word when she realized Emma was there.
“Apparently your little girl or boy is reading a different calendar.” Darcy smiled, then put one arm around Abby. “And luckily, we’re only a block away from the doctor. Let’s get you checked out.”
Abby leaned into Darcy as she walked. Darcy talked the whole time, keeping Abby calm, helping her to remember to breathe. She rubbed at Abby’s back, supported her weight, even took her purse from her arm and slung it over her shoulder. Emma walked a few feet ahead of them, glancing back often, while the dog padded along at her side. “You’re going to be fine,” Darcy said to Abby. “I’m right here, and I’ve done this before. If I have, and I’m the biggest wimp ever when it comes to being in pain, then you’re going to be just fine. And think about how amazing it’s going to be to hold that little baby girl in a few hours. Breathe, Abby. You’ve got this.”