by Addison Fox
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” came winging back from the other side of the room.
Loretta kissed Ben first, then crossed to Charlie’s bed, pressing her lips to his forehead. She’d done very little in her life that she was proud of, but without question she was proud of her boys.
What would it have been like if Jamie waited for her down the hall? Or even better, sat in the room with her, tucking the boys in? If these were his sons and the four of them were a family.
If things had been different.
An image of Reese Grantham standing close with Hoyt Reynolds, their heads bent toward each other in intimate conversation, filled her mind’s eye.
Jamie never got a future, but Reese sure seemed to. One that had her obviously ingratiating herself with the Reynolds family while she screwed Hoyt Reynolds every chance she got.
Oh, she’d been kind enough tonight, playing to her position on the board and being all nicey-nicey after the meeting. But it was fake. The ice queen didn’t do nice.
And what was that weird thing about Reese’s mother? She kept her ear to the ground and she hadn’t heard a damn word about anyone wanting to buy the home of a former serial killer.
No way.
Which meant Reese had slipped and her mother was looking forward to something else.
A wedding?
Regardless of what it was, Reese had lied. Straight to her face. And Loretta would do well to keep that in mind.
Chapter 17
Reese placed a hand over the bulging closure to her shorts and knew she had to give in to the inevitable. On a small sigh, she pushed back from her kitchen table and hunted up a safety pin in her utility drawer. It wasn’t the best solution, but it would have to do until she could get a few new items.
Her pregnancy might not be evident to others, but it was more than evident to her. Flowy blouses had served her well so far at work and she figured if anyone noticed she’d gained weight they’d think she’d gone on a few too many ice-cream benders over the summer months. But soon, everyone would know ice cream had nothing to do with it.
And then she’d no longer be able to hide the truth.
It had been three weeks since school started. There hadn’t been any further incidents, nor had Belle and her team found any clues. Which was more than a little disconcerting as the heat of August gave way to an even hotter spell in September, but what could any of them do?
And while it might be disconcerting, life had to go on, Reese thought as she took her seat again and returned to the stack of essays that needed grading. As each day passed, she’d gotten herself back into a rhythm.
Even if the beat was different from anything she’d ever experienced.
Was she living with Hoyt? Was he living with her? Since they spent every night together, either at her place or over at the ranch, it was hard to convince herself differently, but they also hadn’t declared what they were doing with each other, either.
In fact, both of them seemed determined not to put a name on what was between them.
While it flew in the face of everything she wanted for herself, another part of her was unwilling to upset the status quo. Because the status quo meant Hoyt was a part of her life. If she started unsettling things, he might go away, and then where would she be?
Even if she was miserable where she was.
Her mother had broached the subject a few times but hadn’t pressed too hard. Although Serena was still struggling with the loss of Reese’s father, as Reese had hoped, the news of the baby had her mother looking more toward the future than the past. She’d even gotten a laugh from Serena when she’d heard about the slip to Loretta at the PTA meeting. Oddly, the story seemed to have put a notion in her mother’s head and just the prior weekend Serena had mentioned maybe looking for a new house.
Yes sirree, they were definitely moving to a new beat.
The sound of the front door opening and closing sent a shot of excitement through her and Reese imagined the tall, rangy cowboy that was about to come down her hallway and around the corner into her kitchen.
She wasn’t disappointed.
The jeans that seemed custom-made for his hips and long legs molded to his frame. A faded old T-shirt with the Reynolds Station brand over the chest would, she already knew, be soft to the touch. And, in a surprising departure, she saw a pair of flip-flops on his feet.
“Arden getting to you?”
“Hmm?” he asked as he set dinner—a loaded pizza—down on the counter.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen your bare feet outside of bed.”
“These?” Hoyt stared down at his feet and flopped the heel a few times. “A necessary evil.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because my boots are covered in a sizeable layer of cow dung I haven’t had a chance to wash off. My sister banned them from the house and, seeing as how I now have half a stable, they’re in there waiting for a good cleaning.”
“I know you own more than one pair of boots.”
“My other pair are currently covered in rattlesnake venom and are even now lathered in a homemade solution Arden has insisted I use to clean them off.”
“Snakes?”
He was reaching for plates in the cabinet but turned at her question. “Well, yeah.”
“You deal with snake venom often enough to have a cleaning solution?”
“Of course we do.”
The sweet images of her child running wild and free over Reynolds land came to a crashing halt. “How often do you deal with snakes attempting to feast on your boots?”
“Reese. This is south Texas. Don’t tell me you’ve never dealt with a snake before.”
“Yes. With a shotgun and a dead-eyed aim. Not attempting to sink its teeth into my shoes.”
“I’m sorry if it bothers you but it’s fairly routine.”
“Don’t the horses get upset?”
“Stink usually senses them well before I do.”
She shook her head, not sure if she was horrified or impressed that his horse had more sense and awareness than he did. Daft man.
“What are you working on?” He set their two plates opposite where she had her papers laid out before his hand snaked out and grabbed one of the essays on top. His eyebrows rose higher and higher as he read the title. “Slut Shaming in Puritan Times.”
Reese added napkins to their place settings from a small wicker basket in the center of the table. “We kicked off the year with a bang. The Scarlet Letter’s up first and the kids seemed awed I used those exact words.”
“Times sure have changed. Did old Mrs. Rovner even know the word slut?”
“Our English teacher was far more sly than we gave her credit for.”
“And how would you know that?” Hoyt asked around a big bite of his pizza.
“She was an adult. As kids, we can’t imagine that they know more, especially anything having to do with sex. And then you hit an age when you realize they knew it all a whole lot longer than you did.”
“Seems like you’ve made a study of this.”
“How can’t I? I’m going to be that big sly surprise when the kids find out I’m pregnant.”
The words tumbled out, one after another, all the fear and concern that had dogged her since the day she discovered she was pregnant spilling out.
Hoyt laid down his pizza, his green gaze penetrating. “What’s this about?”
“The reality of what’s about to happen. My pants barely fit. I’m gaining weight. And it’s only a matter of a few more weeks where gauzy blouses aren’t going to cover me any longer.”
“So you tell them. Talk to your boss and tell him what’s going on. You’re pregnant, not contagious. They certainly can’t fire you.”
“No, but they don’t have to be happy about having an unwed p
regnant teacher on staff. The PTA went to bat for me after the events in August. I can’t see this ingratiating me in their eyes, especially after they put their necks on the line.”
“So what do you want to do about it? Marriage is still on the table. In fact, I don’t recall ever taking it off.”
On the table?
Just like a box of pizza or the papers she was grading?
On. The. Table.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Seemingly oblivious to the quiet tenor of her voice, Hoyt pressed on. “It means the same thing it meant a month ago. Let’s get married. Our child will have my name and so will you.”
“Oh, my heart’s aflutter. How romantic, Hoyt.”
“What do you want from me? You’re the one sitting here saying it’s some sort of crime to be an unwed pregnant woman. I don’t fully understand why, but I have the solution to this problem you seem to think is so huge. Let’s get married.”
Reese fought against the rising tide of panic that swelled through her midsection like a tsunami. Didn’t she want the status quo? Wasn’t she all about not rocking the boat and changing the dynamic between them?
More, those swirling dreams that haunted her in the middle of the night—the ones where she and Hoyt made a family—were right here, just in reach.
Didn’t she want that?
Hell and damnation, wasn’t the man giving her exactly what she’d asked for?
When a resounding, miserable no echoed through her mind, Reese knew the truth. Yes, she wanted to marry him. And yes, she wanted her child to have his name.
But she couldn’t do it without love. Great, sweeping, forever kind of love.
It’s what she wanted—all she’d ever wanted, really—and she’d be damned if she was going to settle for less.
“I think it’s time to take it off the table.”
* * *
Hoyt knew he’d messed up, but almost eighteen hours later, he still couldn’t figure out exactly where he’d gone wrong. It had all gone off the rails when he’d mentioned marriage, but hell if he could figure out why. Wasn’t that what she wanted?
Marriage fixed her problem.
And damn it all, it was what he wanted. Why had that gotten lost in all this?
I think it’s time to take it off the table.
What was that even supposed to mean?
Although he’d left her to finish grading papers in the kitchen and set himself up in the living room to watch a ball game, he refused to leave her alone for the night. They might not like each other very much right now but he wasn’t leaving her to fend for herself.
Which had made cleaning his boots the perfect antidote to a sleepless night and aimless day. His boots were caked and smelly and he attacked them with a wire brush over a heap of newspaper, satisfied to have something to take his anger out on. The past few weeks had been full of long tiring days as they all did double duty, keeping up with all the normal work of the ranch while trying to get the stables rebuilt as fast as possible.
He’d initially resisted the idea of bringing in hired hands—it invited too many strangers onto the property—but finally had to give in when the extra work had gotten overwhelming for everyone. Belle’s promise to background-check the contractor they’d found, along with the construction company’s reputation for fully vetting their employees, had finally put his mind at ease.
And it meant he had a halfway functional barn, the frame up, the roof even now over his head and about half the stalls rebuilt.
Ace had taken the fire as an opportunity to upgrade and institute state-of-the art cameras and computers, an updated feeding system and a new way to manage the locks and security. They couldn’t ensure there’d never be another disaster, but the fire had hit far too close for comfort and they were going to do everything in their power to protect their animals.
Even now, the thought of Stink locked in his stall filled him with a cold, bone-wrenching fear that ate at him in his quiet moments.
Or at least the quiet moments that didn’t involve him doing his level best to figure out Reese Grantham.
“Those boots look pretty good. But they might not if you keep scrubbing them that way.”
Hoyt looked up from where he attacked his boot, pleasantly surprised to see Belle. “You look pretty as a picture. But I don’t usually see you at three in the afternoon. Playing hooky?”
“Sort of. I got an afternoon off and decided I’d like to enjoy it at home. What will officially be home in two more months.” She did a little twirl and Hoyt smiled in spite of his bad mood.
Two months.
His brother would be a married man and Hoyt would gain a new sister.
Things had moved fast, but that was after they’d moved incredibly slow. Like a ten-year glacier that finally came unmoored back in April.
Since then, he’d gotten his brother back. The happy-go-lucky persona Tate had projected all these years had actually become happy. No longer a facade. Tate had a new lease on life. It was an amazing testament to his love for Belle and the reality of finding true and lasting happiness.
“Arden said you were in here in the laundry room with that delightfully smelly footware and I figured it was a good time to poke my nose in where it doesn’t belong.”
Hoyt avoided a sigh and settled in, seeing as how Belle was about to give her new sister status a test-drive.
He dropped a lone, now-clean boot on the ground next to the other one, prepared to listen.
“Arden said you looked upset when you came home.”
“She thinks anyone not in touch with their chakras or their twelfth eye or their personal Zen state has a problem.”
“Usually I’d agree with her, but I saw Reese this morning, too, when I made my rounds at the school. She looked pretty miserable, too.”
Okay, Reynolds, settle in. This wasn’t just a test-drive, but a race around the whole damn track.
“We had words last night. It’s fine. It’ll blow over.”
“You proposed to her?”
Hoyt did look up then, his patience at an end. “She told you that?”
“Not at first. I had to drag it out of her. To be fair, the woman’s gone without her morning caffeine for over three months. It was a weak moment.”
Some small part of him knew Belle was trying to lighten the mood, but he was hard-pressed to find any measure of understanding.
And what was wrong with Reese?
It wasn’t bad enough she’d rejected his offer of marriage, but now she was running her mouth to everyone else? He already felt like a rejected fool, and now his family knew about it. Who else had she told?
Even as he thought it, Hoyt knew that was unfair. Whatever the two of them might have, it wasn’t about gossip or innuendo or exposing one another’s privacy.
But damn, he wasn’t ready to have this conversation. Especially not with a well-meaning Belle who was looking at him like some poor, abandoned kitten mewling on the side of the road.
“Look. I—” He broke off at the hard shake of her head.
“I’m sorry. My phone’s been buzzing like a hive of angry bees. You mind if I answer this?”
“Sure. Fine.”
He’d nearly turned away when he saw her frown as she read the face of her phone. But it was a few moments later when the bottom absolutely dropped out from beneath him.
“Yes, this is Detective Granger...What happened at the high school?...Is the building on lockdown?...I’ll be right there.”
* * *
Aimless words filled Reese’s mind as she sat tied to her desk chair. Words like why and how and this is impossible screamed through her mind, even as she remained silent. More purposeful words followed. Three, actually.
I love Hoyt.
While she wished she had screamed them over and over when she’d h
ad the chance, Reese still remained silent. Silent and wary as twenty-five pairs of eyes stared solemnly back at her from their desks, their attention swinging from her to the woman who stood in front of the whiteboard, a gun in hand.
No one dared to move.
A few kids cried silently at their desks, but all had taken their seats when the announcement had gone out to shelter in place.
And it had been Reese herself who’d let in the enemy. She’d assumed Loretta Chapel needed a place to hide and had let the woman in, barring the door behind her.
How could she have known Loretta was the one everyone was hiding from?
“Loretta.” Reese kept her voice calm, trying again to initiate the woman in conversation. “Please let the children go. They’ve done nothing.”
Loretta didn’t move. She just kept staring at the windows covered by drawn shades, occasionally muttering to herself.
Reese assumed there was movement outside. The police and the FBI and SWAT had to be out there. Preparing. Watching. Doing something useful.
But for the past half hour, all she knew was the horror of what lived inside. Here. In her classroom.
This was meant to be a safe place. A haven for learning and camaraderie and youth. People built their futures here. They found who they were going to be here.
They didn’t have to sit staring at a deranged woman with a gun pointed at their heads.
“Loretta. Please talk to me. Tell me what this is about. You’re a mother of two beautiful boys. You’re on the PTA. Surely you can tell me what’s wrong?”
Reese wasn’t sure if it was the mention of Loretta’s children or the fact that she’d attempted conversation every few minutes, but it finally seemed to work. Loretta turned dull eyes toward her, even as the gun never wavered in her hand. “You really don’t know?”
“No,” Reese sputtered, taken aback by the question. Know what? “What should I know?”
“Typical.” A harsh laugh accompanied the assessment but that was all Reese got.
Buoyed by the fact she’d gotten anything, she pushed once more. “Loretta. Please. Let the kids go.”