by Day Leclaire
“Thank you. I wish I could take the credit, but one of our first residents suggested it.” Emma gestured toward the doorway leading to the inner workings of the shelter. “Have you been given the grand tour?”
“Maybe this would be a good time to confess that I’m not with the women observing you. I just sort of attached myself to the group so I could watch you in action.” Emma must have looked confused because the woman tossed out an engaging smile. “I’m sorry. I haven’t introduced myself, have I? I’m Penny Cameron, Chase’s mother.”
“Oh, dear,” Emma murmured before gathering herself up. “I mean, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” The polite, practiced words sounded just like Lacey, minus the self-esteem.
Penny laughed and linked arms with her. “I’d feel the exact same way if I were in your shoes.” Her dark eyes sparkled with undisguised mischief. “Actually, I was in your shoes about thirty-four years ago when I discovered I was expecting Chase.”
Emma closed her eyes. “This just keeps getting better and better.”
“Chase didn’t warn you he’d told me about your pregnancy, did he?”
“Not even a little,” Emma said faintly.
“Don’t worry,” Chase’s mother reassured companionably. “Bob and I aren’t here to put any additional pressure on you. I’m the last person in the world who’d do that.”
“Rafe’s dad is here, too?” she asked, dismayed.
Penny patted Emma’s hand. “Don’t you worry about Bob. The only thing Rafe and his father have in common is their last name and a deep love and respect for one another.”
They joined Chase and Penny’s husband, Bob Cameron, a short time later outside the Bistro. Apprehension filled Emma. She couldn’t help but remember Chase’s claim that her father had fired Rafe’s parents at a crucial juncture in their lives, when they both needed their jobs quite desperately. Did Bob despise her as much as he must despise her father?
Curiosity edged aside her nervousness while introductions were made. Emma searched for some resemblance between Rafe and his father and found very little to compare. To her relief and delight, Bob proved to be nothing like his hard, ruthless son, either in looks or personality. And if he felt any resentment toward her, it didn’t leak into his voice or face.
Though the alpha shone like a beacon in both men, as did the sharp intelligence, she appreciated the more laid-back quality Bob exhibited and the overall kindness he portrayed. He stood right around six feet, with strong, ruggedly good-looking features and a frame of compact muscle. His graying hair remained thick, and he regarded her with direct, piercing eyes that were an interesting shade of hazel.
His quick laugh and rapid-fire wit caused her to relax after only a few minutes in his company. And the protective manner he assumed toward Penny made Emma melt a little inside. Rafe must take after his mother in both appearance and mannerisms, she concluded.
“What do you say we all head over to the street fair downtown?” Penny suggested. She swung around to face her son with a swift, birdlike motion. “Do you remember my taking you there each year when you were little?”
Chase slung an arm around his mother’s shoulders, towering over her. Emma suddenly noticed that he wore jeans. She hadn’t seen him so casually dressed since the morning she’d confirmed her pregnancy with a full dozen tests. He’d paired the jeans with a casual long-sleeved shirt that did drool-worthy things to the powerful expanse of his chest, as well as to an impressive set of biceps. “I loved it almost as much as you.” He winked at Emma. “Her favorite part is eating her way through the fair.”
“Oh, Chase. I’m not that bad.”
“She’s that bad,” Bob confirmed. “You watch. We won’t pass a single food stand she doesn’t sample.”
Though Penny denied it with a laugh, she proved them right by “just nipping over to grab a quick taste” of whatever delicacy the vendors offered for sale, much to everyone’s amusement. Emma found the indulgent air of the two men fascinating to watch and so different from her father and his attitude toward her.
While all of Vista del Mar considered her the Worth Princess, she’d only been a princess at home so long as she remained within the tidy boundaries her father set for her. Heaven help her if she strayed too far out of her box. All hell would break loose. And how had she ended up? Pregnant and unwed. Guaranteed some psychologist somewhere would consider it a classic case of rebellion. Yet, that wasn’t what she’d intended at all.
Chase waved a hand in front of her face. “Hey, you. Where’d you go?”
Emma blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Sorry. I drifted, didn’t I?” She tucked her hand into the crook of Chase’s arm. “I like your mom. She’s…”
“Quirky?”
“Good word for it,” Emma answered. “I like quirky. She’s quirky and sweet and compassionate. Everything a mother should be.”
“Thanks. I think so.” He inclined his head toward Bob. “And my stepfather?”
She hesitated before answering, choosing her words with care. “He’s not like Rafe, is he?”
“They have some things in common.”
“But Bob isn’t holding a grudge.”
“I wouldn’t put that to the test if I were you.”
She paused beside a booth offering honey and homemade jellies for sale and played with one of the jars. “What do you mean?” she asked, troubled.
Chase folded his arms across his chest. The material of his shirt stretched, aligning itself to the angular dips and curves of well-toned muscle and sinew. “I mean that I don’t see any holiday dinners occurring where the Worths, Camerons, Larsons and Barrons all sit down like one big, happy family. It’s just not going to happen.”
She tore her gaze away from the distracting expanse of brawn Chase normally kept buried beneath a suit and tie. He was right, she admitted, as much as that reality saddened her. Their son or daughter would become an instant bone of contention between warring families. “How are we going to handle the problem?” She lowered her voice, but didn’t bother to conceal her anxiety. “We can’t allow all these different factions to dump their issues on our baby.”
Chase lowered his voice, as well. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. No one is using the baby to advance their personal agenda. I’ll protect our son.” He lifted a shoulder in a quick shrug. “Or our daughter.”
She loved the calm certainty in his attitude. She didn’t doubt for a minute that he meant what he said. She only had one question. “How? How will you stop people from using the baby?”
“Easy. If they want access to us—any of us—they’ll have to cooperate.”
“Even your brother?”
Chase’s expression turned grim. “Especially my brother.”
“It’ll be interesting to see you try, if nothing else.”
“Don’t worry, Emma. You and our children will always come first with me.”
“Our children? Plural?”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he dropped a swift kiss on top of her head and she couldn’t resist relaxing into sweet comfort. If they’d been alone and in a less public setting, she’d have offered him a more intimate kiss. Soon, she promised herself. Very soon. Because his promise filled her with a longing for something more, something permanent, to share a place with him that offered substance and roots. A place overflowing with the warmth of a man and the echoes of a child. Not just any man or any child. Chase. Their baby. A real family. A real home.
“Emma?” Penny waved to her, gesturing toward a large tent. Even with the canvas canopy, the sun sparked off of bits of gold and silver. “Come take a look at this.”
Sparing Chase a quick smile that combined promise with regret, Emma joined his mother beneath the shade of the tent. Jewelry glittered from Lucite stands. “What have you found that I can’t resist?” she asked with a grin.
Penny fingered a selection of bracelets. “What do you think of these?”
Emma leaned in and studied them. The bracelets were an amalgamation of bea
ds, stones and beaten copper cut and rounded into intriguing contours that took on the shape of various animals. “I don’t wear a lot of jewelry, but these are very clever. Whimsical and creative with just enough silly to make me smile.”
“Do you like them?”
“I do,” Emma confessed. “Particularly this one that looks like a cougar. It reminds me of Chase, of all things.”
Penny nodded in agreement. “I can see why you say that. The bits of lapis lazuli match his eyes and it has his lithe, muscular shape, doesn’t it?”
“I think I’m offended,” Chase muttered. He glanced over his shoulder at Bob. “Am I offended at being compared to a bracelet?”
“Definitely.”
“Okay, yes. I’m offended.”
Emma waved him silent and continued to debate the merits with Penny. “These shouldn’t be my style, if you know what I mean. But they are.”
“Why aren’t they your style? Too offbeat? Not worthy of a Worth?”
Emma chuckled at the teasing note in Penny’s voice and assumed her haughtiest tone of voice. “Certainly not. A Worth only wears diamonds or gold.” She dropped the act and lifted the bracelet off the rack. “No, I meant I wasn’t sure I could do it justice. That I could wear it with the sort of flair it deserves. But I really do like it.”
“Well, I think the bracelet suits you,” Penny insisted stoutly, “and that you have more than enough flair to pull it off.”
“You’ve convinced me.” Emma opened her purse and pulled out her wallet. “I’m going to take it.”
“Put that away. I’d like to buy it for you,” Penny offered.
Emma drew back. “Oh, no, I can’t let you do that. I’m happy to pay for it myself.”
“You’re carrying my grandchild.” It was said so quietly, so gently. “Please let me buy this for you. It’s a small thing and not very expensive. And it would make me very happy.”
Emma softened. “Of course. Thank you.” She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and admired it. “I really do love it.”
“Of course you do. I’m sure I must have made it with you in mind. I just didn’t realize it until we met.”
Emma froze. “What?”
Penny chuckled. “I’m afraid I set you up. I make these bracelets in my spare time and have a friend who sells them at the various fairs and tradeshows. Here, I’ll show you.” She turned Emma’s arm to show her the copper penny that had been beaten and shaped into the catch. “I use pennies as my signature.”
“Oh,” Emma said faintly. “I guess it’s a good thing I said I liked your bracelets.”
Penny shrugged. “If you hadn’t, I wouldn’t have dreamed of embarrassing you by admitting I’d made them.” She smiled warmly. “But I had a feeling they’d catch your fancy. And, as a matter of fact, I made the one you’re wearing with Chase in mind.”
“Then I’m thrilled it’s the one I chose.” She gave Penny a quick hug. “Thank you for giving it to me. I’ll treasure it even more knowing you made it.”
The four of them continued on their way and Chase glanced down at Emma. “You okay?” he asked, taking her hand in his.
It felt good to have him hold her hand, his strength communicated through that simple act. “I’m fine. I feel like I just escaped a minefield, though.”
“You didn’t. Seriously. Mom wouldn’t have been offended, even if you hated the bracelet. She’s really laid-back about stuff like that.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Did you really like it or were you being polite?”
“I love it,” she said with absolute sincerity. “I was serious when I said I didn’t think I’d do it justice.”
“Sweetheart, you could wear Tarzan’s loincloth and make it work.”
Her mouth quivered. “Tarzan’s loincloth? Not Jane’s?”
“Definitely Tarzan’s. And the bracelet.” He shot her a hungry look. “Or maybe just the bracelet.”
After another delightful hour together, the two couples parted, Bob claiming they had a long drive home. “We took the coast road on the way here,” Penny informed them. She nudged Chase with her elbow. “I saw a place just north of Busted Bluff with an open house sign. You and Emma should check it out. Remember how we used to play the game?”
“Sure. If we find time, Emma and I will drop by.”
She waited until his parents left before regarding him with a lifted eyebrow. “Was that a suggestion that we find a place and move in together, or did she really mean a game?”
“She really meant a game.”
Intriguing. “How do you play?”
He stopped by a vendor on the outskirts of the street fair and bought them each an ice cream cone. She could see him debating how much to explain. “We didn’t have a lot of money during those early years,” he admitted. “Mom refused to accept any support from my father. Or to be exact, she refused the strings that went along with the money. So, after church on Sunday, wearing our one good outfit, we would stop by open houses and pretend.”
“Pretend?” She didn’t understand. “Pretend…what?”
“Pretend that we could afford to buy the house we toured. We’d talk about where we’d put our furniture or what changes we’d make.” He smiled reminiscently. “We’d spend that hour fantasizing about what it would be like to live in a big, fancy house.”
“It’s not always what it’s cracked up to be,” Emma murmured.
Chase leaned in and kissed a smear of ice cream from her chin. “No, it’s not. But those childhood fantasies are part of what gave me the drive to succeed in life.”
“And to exchange fantasy for reality?”
“Of course.”
She eyed him shrewdly. “For you? Or for your mother?”
“It didn’t hurt that I could give Mom all the material things she couldn’t afford when I was little. For a while it got to be a competition between me and Rafe. Who could give the bigger, more outrageous gift to our parents.”
“I’ll bet your mother and Bob didn’t let that go on for long.”
“Nope. They finally told us the only gift they’d accept from either of us was the gift of our time.”
“That’s so sweet.” Emma gave serious attention to her ice-cream cone while she framed her next question. “Do you suppose going to open houses would be as much fun now that you’re older and can actually afford any house you toured?”
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out.”
Startled, she looked at him. “Find out?”
“Do you have other plans?”
“No.” Emma considered, then nodded. Why not? “Sounds like fun.” Well, maybe fun wasn’t the right word, Emma decided when she stepped across the threshold of the open house. Mind-boggling. That would be one word she’d use. Eye-popping. That would be another. Some crazed decorator had taken a nice, solid home with excellent flow, light and balance, and had deliberately done their best to crush it beneath the most opulent and garish furnishings she’d ever seen.
“I can’t seem to wrap my head around it,” she whispered to Chase. “My eyes won’t settle on anything.”
“Mine are settling on everything and I think my head’s going to explode.”
“There’s something else, though…” She wandered into the living room and paused on the threshold. Someone had stuffed far too much oversized furniture into far too small a space. “Something almost familiar about the place. I just can’t put my finger on it.”
“You’ve been to a bordello?” he asked politely.
She struggled to control a laugh, unwilling to attract anyone’s attention. Bordello. It perfectly described the gold-and-red wallpaper stamped with black velvet fleurs-de-lis. “I have now,” she murmured.
“Do you have any questions I can answer?” A woman in her sixties appeared behind them. She smiled in a friendly fashion. “I’m Mrs. Strickland, the owner.”
Chase stuck out his hand. “Pleased to meet you. My fiancée and I were just commenting that we’ve never seen anything like this before.”
The older woman beamed. “Oh, well. I tried.”
Emma felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, it didn’t seem so funny, anymore. She glanced at Chase and gave him a worried look, hoping he wouldn’t say anything insensitive. He noted her concern and nodded to let her know he’d caught the silent message. “You decorated this yourself?”
“I did, though I can’t take all the credit. I duplicated a magazine layout of the Worth estate.” The woman examined her living room with intense satisfaction. “Everything you see here is exactly what they have. So, if you buy the house, you’ll be living in the same luxurious comfort as the Worth family.”
“Oh.” Emma stiffened in dawning horror. “Oh, my. You’re right.”
“You saw the layout? You must have been very young since it’s been years ago now.” The woman stepped forward and ran her hand along the back of the sofa in an affectionate manner. “This is identical to the one the Worths own. All the furniture is. I simply improved on it a little. Tweaked some of the duller bits.”
“Duller bits?” Emma repeated weakly.
“The late Mrs. Worth liked more neutral colors. Surprising, considering she was an artist. I decided to brighten it up a bit.” She leaned in and lowered her voice. “A vast improvement if you ask me.”
They allowed the woman to take them on an extended tour of the house, proudly showing them all the improvements she’d made so that her standard of living matched or exceeded the Worths. Once she satisfied herself that they’d seen every detail the house had to offer, they returned to the car.
“Well, that didn’t go quite as planned,” Chase observed.
Shell-shocked, Emma slid into the passenger seat. “No, not at all.”
“Are those the same furnishings that are out at your dad’s?”
“When my mother was alive, yes. Not anymore, thank God. We’ve remodeled over the years. Otherwise I’d have to gut the entire estate.”
He glanced at her in concern. “Are you all right?”
She took a deep breath. “To be honest, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”
“You’re lucky she didn’t recognize you.”