by Cindy Kirk
With quick, efficient movements, David changed into the workout clothes he kept in his locker, then joined Clay and several other men he recognized as teachers on the court.
He caught his brother staring a couple of times when he drove in hard for a lay-up, or stole the ball from someone who wasn’t paying close enough attention.
By the time the pickup game ended, he had to wipe the perspiration from his face with a towel. The rapid beat of his heart began to slow as they left the court and headed for the showers.
David felt more like himself. Calm and in control. He still didn’t know what to do about Hadley, but eventually he’d make a logical, rational decision based on what would be best for his daughter.
Their daughter. If, and that was a mighty big if, what Hadley had told him was the truth. He’d know about that soon enough. The DNA kits should arrive later today.
Lost in his thoughts, David showered and dressed, leaving the sweat-soaked clothes in the private locker where they would be freshly laundered by staff.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clay walk up, hair damp and sticking up on one side. His brother dropped his gym bag on the floor. “You were on fire, bro. I believe that was a record number of three-pointers.”
David shrugged. “Sometimes you’re hot.”
“And lucky.”
David’s smile vanished as he thought of Hadley. “I don’t feel lucky.”
“Where are the girls?”
After pulling his keys from his pocket, David inclined his head.
“Hadley and Brynn. You know, daughter and girlfriend.”
“Hadley isn’t my girlfriend.” David tried for casual, but the words came out stiff and unyielding.
“Ah.” A smile lifted Clay’s lips, and a knowing glint filled his eyes. “You had your first fight. It was inevitable. What did you do to piss her off?”
“I wasn’t the one who lied.” David spat the words. “She isn’t who I thought she was.”
The comment garnered his brother’s full attention.
David cursed. With a couple of thoughtless comments, he’d piqued Clay’s insatiable curiosity. The last thing he wanted to talk about was his issues with Hadley.
Which was why it made no sense to walk out of the building with his brother to the parking lot. Or why, instead of continuing on to his car, he paused by Clay’s Land Rover. “Thanks for letting me join the game.”
Clay put a hand on the side of his vehicle. “Tell me what’s going on with you and Hadley.”
David had opened his mouth, not certain of the exact words he would use to put his brother off, when his cell rang. Ready to let it go to voice mail, he remembered Brynn. Sick. At home.
He held up a finger and jerked the phone from his pocket. His breath caught at the name on the display.
Clay was listening, of course he was listening, but right now David didn’t care. “Jerome, appreciate you getting back to me so quickly.”
His fingers tightened around his phone as Jerome reassured him Brynn’s adoption records remained sealed. “I need to know if Hadley Newhouse is the birth mother. You met with her. You arranged all this. Just tell me yes or no.”
David huffed out a frustrated breath as the attorney went into a spiel about confidentiality. He listened until he couldn’t take it anymore. “I already ordered a blasted DNA kit. Is that my only option?”
More legalese.
“One last question, and I’ll let you go. Does she have any legal right to my daughter?” Everything in David relaxed at the assurance that the birth mother—Jerome carefully avoided using her name—had given up all rights to Brynn when she’d signed the adoption papers nine years ago. “Thanks. If I come up with more questions, I’ll be in touch.”
David clicked off, shoved the phone back into his pocket and faced his brother.
The expression on Clay’s face had changed from one of curiosity to watchful waiting.
“Now you know. Hadley is claiming to be Brynn’s birth mother.”
“You’re talking to your attorney about all sorts of legal stuff, yet she’s the one watching Brynn while you’re here.”
Though said as a statement, a question lurked beneath the surface.
“Brynn is sick. She came down with the same stomach bug that had Hadley down for the count this past weekend.”
“Even more interesting.” Clay’s eyes remained focused on David. “You left your sick child with her.”
“She would never hurt Brynn.” Of that, David was one hundred percent certain. “She loves her.”
Not likes, David realized. Loves. He’d told himself he was lucky to have a nanny who liked Brynn, who cared about Brynn. Like and care were too weak to describe the emotion that swirled in Hadley’s eyes whenever she looked at his daughter.
Loved. Hadley loved Brynn. And if he wasn’t mistaken, Brynn loved her back.
Which made for a helluva mess.
David closed his eyes for a second as emotion surged.
His brother’s hand settled on his shoulder. “Are you afraid she’ll try to take Brynn away from you?”
“No. But she wants to be a part of her life.”
“Would that be so bad?”
At David’s incredulous look, Clay shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like Whitney would care. It’s obvious Brynn likes Hadley.”
“She lied to me, Clay.”
“Let me get this straight. The fact she’s Brynn’s mother doesn’t bother you, it’s that she lied to you?”
David scrubbed his hands over his face, as if that would somehow clear his muddled brain. “I don’t know. At this point, I just don’t know.”
“If it were me, I’d be happy.”
Whatever David had expected his brother to say, it wasn’t this. “Are you crazy?”
“Think about it.” Clay rested his back against the side of his vehicle, ignoring the wet sheen on the glossy black paint. “You had to be wondering if you’d ever find a woman who could love not only you, but your daughter. Hey, you’ve found her.”
“She lied to me,” David repeated, with less surety.
“How did you find out?”
“What?”
“How did you find out she’s Brynn’s birth mother?”
“I don’t know that for certain,” David began, but Clay waved that argument aside with an impatient slice of the hand. “Okay. She told me.”
“Why now?”
Had his brother asked, or had the question simply been circling so long in David’s head it had had to come out?
“Things between us were heating up.” David pulled his brows together. “She said she didn’t want things to go any further without—”
“Coming clean.”
David slowly nodded.
Clay clapped him on the shoulder as huge rain droplets splatted at their feet. “An admirable thing to do, but that’s my opinion. I’d vote for giving her a chance. What do you have to lose?”
Sliding into his car, Clay shut the door and drove away as thunder boomed and rain began to fall in earnest.
“My heart,” David muttered to himself as he hurried across the parking lot to his vehicle. “That’s what I have to lose.”
Hadley glanced at the clock on Ami’s kitchen wall. Now that Brynn was back to her perky self, Hadley had decided to do her baking at Ami’s house. While David had yet to order her out of his home, things had been strained between them the past couple of days.
Brynn hadn’t appeared to notice—yet—and Hadley didn’t want her to worry. Giving David space seemed wise. As had agreeing to do a DNA test. Her sample, and she assumed one from Brynn, were already on their way to a lab for expedited processing.
He was only being cautious, she told herself. Though she had to admit his lack of trust stung just a little. Which was ridiculous, considering she’d lied to him about her identity for years.
Sighing, she started wiping down Ami’s kitchen counters, her last task before heading home. Karin had picked up the la
st of the bakery boxes only minutes earlier.
The doorbell rang, then rang again.
Only then did Hadley remember she was alone in the house. She hurried to the door.
Flashing a bright smile, Prim stepped into the foyer. Hadley waited for the twins to race each other through the door. But today, there were no redheaded boys and no pounding footsteps, only Prim and her baby.
Hadley liked Prim. She admired her strength. When her first husband had died, leaving her a widow at twenty-six with twin toddlers, Prim didn’t buckle. She stayed strong and made a new life for her and her sons, eventually moving back to Good Hope.
“I’m afraid Ami and Beck aren’t here.” Hadley lowered her voice in deference to the infant with wisps of strawberry-blond hair sleeping peacefully against Prim’s chest.
“You don’t need to whisper. Addie is used to her brothers’ loud voices. This girl can sleep through anything.” With gentle fingers, Prim brushed the top of her daughter’s head.
A text tone from the depths of Prim’s massive bag had the baby’s eyes springing open.
Hadley lifted a brow. “Who Let the Dogs Out?”
“A brief error in judgment. I let the boys pick it.” Prim gave her daughter’s back a few soothing strokes and murmured something. Whatever she said must have worked, because Addie’s eyes closed.
Slipping her hand into the bag, Prim rummaged around for an extra chorus before pulling out the phone. She glanced at the screen.
“Everything okay?”
“Max and the boys are putting up the rock-climbing wall in the town square.” Prim dropped the phone back into the bag. “He’ll text me again when they’re ready for lunch. Apparently, the food trucks are set up and ready to go.”
Since Ami’s house was located near the business district, Hadley had noticed the fully equipped vehicles encircling the town square. There were hot dog trucks and ones specializing in grilled-cheese sandwiches. There was even a vegetarian truck serving a particular favorite: rosemary fries.
“Your sister left an hour ago for the café.” Hadley hesitated as Prim shifted the baby in her arms. “I don’t expect her back.”
“That’s okay.” Prim waved a dismissive hand. “I just need a quiet and cool place to sit for a few minutes.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place. I’ll be out of your way in five minutes.”
A startled look of surprise skittered across Prim’s freckled face. Then she smiled. “I didn’t mean you. Actually, I’d love some adult conversation.”
The warmth of Prim’s words wrapped around Hadley like a favorite sweater. When she’d arrived in Good Hope, Hadley had tried to keep from forming any attachments.
Ami would have none of it. At the time, none of the other Bloom sisters lived in Good Hope, and Hadley had become a surrogate sister. Then, one by one, the others had returned. Instead of having one good friend, Hadley found herself with four.
While chatting with Prim, Hadley fixed a pot of herbal tea and carried it to the living room. Moments later, she returned with two pretty china cups and a plate of cherry shortbread cookies.
Prim took a bite of cookie and shut her eyes. “These are absolutely fabulous.”
“They’re a relatively new offering and very popular.” Hadley didn’t say the recipe was hers, or that she was the one who’d suggested Ami give them a try.
Prim gestured with one hand toward the floral plate. “You have to help me eat these.”
Hadley reached for a cookie, but couldn’t stop her gaze from drifting in Adelyn’s direction. “You’re lucky. You have a loving husband, three wonderful kids and a flexible career you enjoy.”
Like her husband, Prim was an accountant who did much of her work from home.
Prim studied her for a long moment. “There was a time, after Rory died, I thought I’d never be happy again. I certainly never expected to marry or have more children.”
“Then you met Max.”
The woman’s hazel eyes softened, and her lips curved. “I’d known Max my whole life. But we reconnected when I moved back to Good Hope.”
“Meant to be,” Hadley murmured and crunched on the shortbread.
“I think so, but”—Prim’s gaze turned thoughtful—“we came so close to letting it all slip away.”
“You did?” Hadley remembered when Prim and Max had started dating. They’d been neighbors and co-chairs of the Independence Day parade. “From the outside, it looked like smooth sailing.”
Prim’s gaze settled on Hadley. “Most of us bring some sort of baggage into a relationship. Being honest about your fears, not only with yourself, but with your partner, can be difficult.”
Prim stared expectantly, and a chill traveled down Hadley’s spine. She shifted uneasily in her seat. Hadley had agreed to cookies and tea. She hadn’t agreed to bare her soul.
When the silence lengthened, Prim cocked her head. “How’s it going with David?”
Hadley waved an airy hand. “It’s not serious.”
“Do you want it to be?”
Hadley could see why Prim was such an effective parent. When her firm gaze landed on you, you couldn’t lie.
Not to her. Not to yourself.
Hadley had done a lot of soul-searching the past couple of days. She’d looked hard at her feelings for David. The fact that he was a good father added to her admiration. But she didn’t love him because he was Brynn’s father, she loved him for who he was as a man.
The kind of man who hadn’t kicked her out of his house when he found out she’d lied, because that would have traumatized his daughter. The kind of man who didn’t scream or call her names or hit. The kind of man who remained civil and courteous under extreme duress.
This was the man she’d fallen in love with, and she wanted, oh, she wanted so very much, to be a part of his life.
“Hadley?” Prim prompted. “Are you in love with David Chapin?”
“Yes.” Hadley met her gaze. “But I don’t think he feels the same.”
Not anymore.
Chapter 18
“A Frito-dog?” David read the list of ingredients and frowned. “They come with onions and jalapeños. You don’t like either of those.”
A pleading look blanketed Brynn’s face. “They can leave them off. I’m sure they would, if you ask nicely.”
David rocked back on his heels. Hot dogs weren’t the most nutritious of foods. Wasn’t part of a father’s job making sure his child ate well?
The trouble was, other than the vegetarian truck—which Brynn had turned up her nose at—most carried items with no better nutritional value than the Frito-dog.
“It’s only once a year.”
David turned. Prim, Max and their two boys stood behind them in line. “Is that your subtle way of telling me I should let her have the Frito-dog?”
Max grinned.
“We’re having one,” Connor, one of the twins, announced.
“Maybe two.” His brother, Callum, cast a speculative look in his mother’s direction.
“One is enough.” Prim offered David a warm smile before shifting her attention to his daughter. “Hello, Brynn.”
For the first time, David noticed the baby clasped to Prim’s chest in some kind of wrap. He started to ask about it when he realized he’d lost her attention.
Seconds later, her gaze returned to him. “Where’s Hadley?”
David had known someone would ask. It was inevitable. These Friday events leading up to Founder’s Day were big deals in Good Hope. A man would be expected to bring the woman he was dating.
“Hadley is baking,” Brynn piped up, and her smile faded. “That’s why she’s not with us.”
David had been glad for an excuse he could give his daughter.
“I stopped by Ami’s house earlier, and Hadley was there. The house smelled wonderful.” Prim smiled at Brynn. “She and I enjoyed some of the cookies she baked this morning. They were—”
“What kind of cookies?” Callum stepped
close, crowding his mother, an accusing look in his eyes. “We didn’t get any cookies.”
The boy glanced at his twin, who confirmed the oversight with a head shake.
“Why didn’t you bring—?”
His father’s hand on the boy’s shoulder stopped Callum midsentence. “We’ve spoken about this before. You don’t interrupt adults when they’re having a conversation. And you never speak to your mother in that tone.”
Connor gave his brother a you’re so busted smirk.
“What do you say to your mother?”
Apparently familiar with the drill, the child didn’t hesitate. “I’m sorry, Mommy.”
Prim tousled his hair, then turned back to Brynn. “I’m sure Hadley would be here if she could.”
David and Brynn ate at a picnic table with the Brody family. For all their high jinks, Brynn appeared to genuinely enjoy being around the boys. When Adelyn woke up, Brynn sang silly songs to the baby, who watched her intently.
The boys were more interested in trying to shove each other off the bench than in their sister. After the third time of reprimanding them, Max announced they would be skipping dessert and the climbing wall.
“Not listening and acting up is a sign you need some quiet time at home.” He silenced the boys’ pleading with one glance before his gaze shifted to David. “Are you coming to Jeremy’s on Sunday?”
David lifted his hands. “I’m not sure a croquet tournament is my thing.”
“Fin wants us there. As many people as we can manage to round up.” Prim shot a pointed glance at her husband, clearly wanting him to give a little push.
“Fin is considering having Good Hope host a vintage croquet tournament around the May Day festivities next year. Sort of like what we do with the baseball game around the Fourth.” Max’s tone turned persuasive. “It should be fun. Who doesn’t like hitting a ball with a mallet?”
The desire to decline brought an excuse quickly to David’s lips, but he swallowed the refusal. Keeping busy might be a good thing. “What about Brynn?”
“Kids are welcome.” Prim smiled at Brynn. “Fin has hired Dakota and a couple other college girls to entertain the younger ones.”
Prim’s gaze shifted to her sons, who stood kicking the ground with the tips of their sneakers. “Rumor is the climbing wall will be moving to Rakes Farm after tonight.”