Chapter Seven

Charity sat beside Jack’s hospital bed, doing her best to finish reading the storybook without getting hit in the face with whatever projectile the toddler was heaving at her. Good thing he was too little to have good aim.

“Good one,” she said, leaning to dodge an empty juice box. “Your dad was backup, backup quarterback, I think. That’s a nice way of saying he was a benchwarmer.” She tried smiling at the red-faced toddler. “I liked him. Then. He always liked me.”

Jack didn’t look like he believed her. Or like he cared. He stretched and flailed but when he couldn’t reach another missile from his bedside table, he burst into tears. Even with her limited knowledge of babies and toddlers, she knew a tantrum when she saw one.

“I know the feeling,” Charity said, setting the board book on the bed and standing. Should she comfort him? Talk to him? Run from the room? Honestly, the last option was the most appealing. “Grams is coming, okay, little dude. I get it. You don’t want me here.”

Felicity had received a surprise call from Matt’s lawyer and, since Grams was running late, she’d been forced to sit with baby Jack. She was pretty sure the kid hated her. He was staring at her, white-blond curls standing on end, flushed cheeks and quivering lips. Poor little guy was pathetic.

“Come on, Jack. I’m really not that bad, I promise.” She smiled.

He threw the board book at her.

“What’s all the racket about?” Grams asked, waddling into the room with her massive knitting basket hooked onto her arm. “You torturing the boy or what?”

Charity smiled down at her grandmother. At eighty-one, the woman was just as feisty and active as women half her age. “You know me.”

“I know you’ve never been fond of children,” Grams answered, reaching up to pat her cheek. “Which is why I’ve given up hoping you’ll provide me any great-grandkids. Guess I’ll have to count on your brother for a good half dozen—to make up the difference.”

Charity swallowed. Oh, Grams, you have no idea. “Think Zach is a little busy saving the world right now, Grams.”

“He’ll come home eventually. I told him to get a move on. I’m not going to live forever,” Grams argued.

“Yes, you will,” she sassed right back. “Jack’s in a bad mood. Maybe it’s just me. But the nurse is bringing him some applesauce and Jell-O.” She tried to mimic the singsong voice she’d heard both Felicity and Honor use. “Yum-yum.”

Jack peeked through his fingers at her.

“And it’s not that I don’t like kids,” Charity argued. “They don’t like me.” Which was true. Even Nick and Honor had been wary of her when they were really little. But then, she’d been wary of them. Once they were walking and talking, it was cake. Which meant the baby growing in her stomach was in serious trouble for the first two or three years of life.

“Charity?” Grams was looking at her, waiting.

“What?” she asked. “Sorry.”

“I’m the one hard of hearing, girlie.” Grams paused. “I asked if you’d gone to see Maudie at the travel agency. You know, to get a job. I bet she’ll sell you her business, too. She’s been wanting to retire for years.”

“Why hasn’t she?” Charity asked. “Who even uses a travel agent anymore?”

“Not everyone likes putting their financial information into those dang computers, Charity Ann.” Grams was incredulous. “All those hack-men out there, stealing your identity and crashing your credit goals. I travel all the time, and Maudie O’Meara is the only person I trust to make sure I’m safe and taken care of.”

Charity couldn’t stop smiling at her grandmother. She was a piece of work. Exactly the way she wanted to be when she was eighty-one years old. “I love you, Grams, you know that?”

“What’s not to love?” she asked, grinning up at her. “But don’t change the subject. If you’re staying put, and I hear you’re thinking about staying put for a while, might as well make yourself useful—especially if you’re going to be another mouth for Felicity to feed.”

Charity paused then. Grams was right. She needed a job. Preferably one with benefits. Even though the idea of being caged behind a desk in a small office right off Pecan Valley’s quaint and cliché Old Town Square made her skin crawl, there weren’t a ton of options. It wasn’t just her anymore.

“Do you have Maudie’s number?” she asked.

“You go on down and see her.” Grams waved her aside. “She’s been hoping you’d stop by since she heard you were in town.”

“Okay.” It’s not like she’d been back that long. What had it been? Two weeks? Not quite? Was that all?

“Good.” Grams sat beside the bed and dug through her bag. “I finished her doilies, too, so you can take them with you.” She held up a brown paper sack.

“Anything else?” she asked.

“I’ll text you if I think of anything.” Grams smiled as the nurse came through the door. “Well, lookee here, Jack. Snack time. I hope they brought enough for me.”

“I did, Mrs. Otto.” The nurse smiled. “And I have good news. The doctor thinks little Jack will be released soon. Maybe a day or two.”

Charity was pretty sure that wasn’t necessarily good news. “I’ll tell Felicity.”

“He’s not going home with Filly, is he?” Grams asked, shaking her head and making the same disapproving click she’d made since Charity could remember. “His mother had no people?”

“So far, no one has popped up. But I think they’re looking.” If there was any justice in the world, someone suitable would turn up. Hopefully her sister would come home tonight with good news. “I’ll let you two enjoy your Jell-O.” She pressed a kiss to Grams’s cheek, waved at a glaring Jack, and hurried down the hall.

At the nurse’s station at the far end of the hall stood Braden Martinez—looking solemn and impatient—gauze pressed against his forehead. Before she took the time to consider her actions, she headed straight for him. She hadn’t thanked him for helping her get to the hospital that night. And, right now, he looked like he could use a thank-you or kind word. His heavy-lidded gaze slid her way and briefly widened before he stared straight ahead.

“Well, hi there, Sheriff,” she said, leaning in front of him and forcing him to acknowledge her. “Thanks for the police escort the other night.”

He nodded. “Part of the job.” His gaze shifted her way again. “It was either escort you or arrest you for running a red light.”

She grinned. “Oh, well, now I appreciate it even more.” He didn’t grin back—if anything, he seemed to be intentionally not looking at her. Which made her linger. “What happened to your head?” she asked, wishing he’d look her way. The eyes said so much.

“Domestic dispute,” he murmured.

“The wife got mad at you?” she asked, knowing full well he wasn’t married or her mother, Grams, and the widows’ group would stop mentioning how available and handsome and what a catch he’d be for her.

That got his attention. One brow arched, and those heavy-lidded eyes locked with hers. “Not my wife.”

“Well, that explains why it turned into a domestic dispute.” She smiled at him. “Honestly, Sheriff, I’m surprised at you. Messing around with someone else’s wife.”

He sighed, no sign of a smile in sight. Instead, his posture went rigid and his expression hardened.

She’d have to confer with the widows, but something told her the super-hot, super-broody sheriff might have been cheated on. And she’d just stuck her foot in it. Not that she was into gossip but…if she was going to stay put, she might as well drink the Kool-Aid and get the scoop on the citizens of her home sweet home. And since the baby in her belly—and her belly—were only getting bigger, she was staying put.

And it would be okay. Not at all upsetting. Not a bit nausea-inducing.

“I got caught in the crossfire of a domestic dispute. One I was there to break up. One I had nothing to do with.” His brows rose, and he waited.

“Oh, well.” She wrinkled her nose, eyeing the gauze pad pressed against his forehead. “Crossfire of what? A knife? A gun?” Pecan Valley had become downright dangerous since she’d left.

“A shoe.”

“A shoe?” She laughed, making the churning in her stomach more pronounced.

“Some chunky-heeled thing.” He held the gauze away and looked at it.

“Oh my God, you’re really bleeding.” Her smile disappeared, her stomach tightening. “That was some shoe.” Was she going to throw up? Yes. Soon.

“Solid aim,” he finished.

She pressed her eyes shut and crossed her arms over her stomach. Happy thoughts. Bubble baths. Cookies. Ice cream. Why did most of her happy thoughts revolve around food? Oh, right, because she was pregnant. And nauseous. And he was bleeding. Ugh. No. No blood. She sucked in a deep breath.

“You’re looking a little green. The blood?”

She nodded. “So let’s not talk about it.” Another deep breath. “On your way to get stitches?”

“No. I need to see my father.” His tone was curt.

The only thing she remembered about Braden’s father was what a bastard he was. He’d show up drunk to all their football games, pick a fight, and get kicked out—humiliating Braden and stealing the limelight from his talented son. “He’s sick?”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry.” It was the right thing to say.

He looked at her, a small smile on his face. “Thanks.”

She would have smiled back but the gauze slipped from his fingers and the gash on his forehead, still bleeding, did her in. Running was her only option. She did, dodging orderlies and gurneys and ignoring the stares. Thankfully, she made it to the restroom before she added public humiliation to the day’s accomplishments.

…

“That’s all I know at this point.” Rob-the-lawyer Klein nodded at the waiter refilling his tea glass.

Felicity poked at her cobb salad, not in the least bit hungry. She’d hoped for very different news when he’d called. News in general. Instead, she’d wound up having lunch with Rob, in a very busy café, more deflated than ever.

“I’m sorry it’s not good news.” His voice was low. “I’m not giving up.”

“And I appreciate that.” She did, truly. But learning Amber had been a ward of the state since she was twelve would make tracking down relatives a challenge. Even if they managed to locate someone, how would that work? The person would be more of a stranger to Jack than her family.

“No good?” he asked, using his fork to point at her plate.

“It’s delicious.” She forced a smile and stabbed part of a hard-boiled egg.

“This is nice.” Rob sat back in his chair, his gaze sweeping the lunch crowd—enough of a crowd that her lunch would be noticed and that news likely shared before she was back home. “It’s rare I get out of the office for lunch.” He smiled, his teeth drawing her full attention. “The company is nice, too.”

Felicity did her best not to stare, but her sister’s comments about the man’s teeth had her smiling.

Robert Klein’s eyebrows rose, and his smile grew.

That was the sort of male smile she hadn’t received in a long time. And while it was flattering, she was not prepared for that sort of attention from Matt’s lawyer.

Be honest. You’re not prepared for that sort of attention from any man. Period. Especially while front and center for all of Pecan Valley to see and speculate upon. She stared at her salad, nervously pushing around the lettuce and ham.

“When does Honor leave for college?” he asked.

Good. Neutral territory. “Too soon.” Which was true. This was not the summer she’d wanted. This summer was supposed to be heavy on sunshine, beaches, and laughter.

“Matt was very proud of Honor.” He nodded as two men in suits walked past them. “He was always bragging on her. And Nick.”

“He did?” She hadn’t meant to ask out loud.

“Yes.” Rob’s gaze returned to her, and his smile dimmed. “I guess talking about him is hard. I apologize.”

“No, it’s fine.” She shrugged. “He… That’s nice. Knowing that.”

He cleared his throat. “Talking about the ex probably isn’t the best way to spend our first date.”

Felicity’s fork froze inches from her mouth. This was a date? No, this was not a date. This was a meeting—wasn’t it? Yes. That’s exactly what this was. Or, rather, what she thought it was.

“Felicity?”

She turned, spying Graham a few feet away. Seeing him provided instant relief. “Graham.” It was a squeak.

Rob was on his feet, extending his hand. “Graham, good to see you.”

“You, too, Robert. Felicity. Let me introduce you to Dr. Veronica Luna. She’s just joined the practice.” He stepped aside so Dr. Luna could shake hands.

Veronica Luna was breathtaking. Tall and curvy, a dimple peeking out of her cheek, and a solid fall of thick black hair. “Very nice to meet you both.”

“Congratulations. Are you new to the area?” Felicity asked, seeing Graham and Dr. Luna as the perfect buffer between her and Rob. “Why don’t you join us?”

If Rob was bothered by her suggestion, he didn’t let it show. “Yes, please.”

“Are you sure?” Veronica asked.

“Yes. Absolutely certain.” Please. For a split second, she thought she’d actually said the please out loud. The other three were looking at her wearing a variety of expressions. Robert Klein looked confused. Veronica looked startled. And Graham?

He was trying not to laugh.

They pulled up chairs, and conversation turned to Veronica. Where she’d moved from. Her single, no-kid status. The best neighborhoods for house hunting. And what single, kid-less adults did in Pecan Valley. She and Graham were no help, but Rob was full of suggestions.

Graham’s whispered, “Didn’t mean to interrupt your first date,” made her choke on her ice water. He was enjoying this far too much.

“You okay?” Rob asked.

She nodded, pressing her napkin to her mouth and stepping firmly on Graham’s toes. He was having a hell of a time covering his laugh. “Fine. Water.”

“What’s the house specialty?” Veronica asked, scanning the menu.

“How hungry are you?” Rob asked, leaning closer to Dr. Luna.

“Starving.” She smothered her yawn. “Dr. Murphy didn’t take a lunch—”

“Which is common for me, and the nurses give me grief about it,” Graham argued, shaking his head. “So, save yourself the nagging and headaches and take a lunch.”

There were dark shadows under his brown eyes.

You should be taking better care of yourself.

“I’ll remember that. If the nurses aren’t happy, the office isn’t happy.” Veronica Luna smiled. “I’m guessing the Cobb salad is a no?”

Felicity stared down at her barely touched salad. “No, it’s really good. I’m just not that hungry.” She’d been planning on meeting Robert Klein at his office, but he’d called shortly before their meeting to change the location. Food hadn’t been part of the equation—she had a roast slow cooking for a family dinner. And the word “date” had never, ever been mentioned. If it had, she wouldn’t have come.

Hopefully, Rob was joking. But a quick glance at the white-teethed lawyer had her shifting in her seat. His smile was back—all male appreciation. And, in case that wasn’t enough, he added a wink.

…

There was nothing more awkward than two adults trying to one-up each other. But Veronica and Rob Klein were going toe to toe. And it was exhausting. While he made his way through his burger and fries, the two of them plowed through their academic career, academic accomplishments, and who was youngest upon graduation. Over dessert, they moved on to their favorite travel destinations and why.

Graham noticed how quickly Felicity drained her glass of wine. She seemed to relax—a little. Not enough to look like she was truly enjoying herself, but he could tell she was trying.

When Rob excused himself to take a phone call, Veronica blew out a deep breath and said, “He’s super competitive. That has to be exhausting. How long have you been going out?”

Graham watched as Felicity went from pseudorelaxed to ramrod stiff.

“We’re not.” Felicity’s tone was firm. “This…is a meeting. Only a meeting.”

“Oh?” Veronica grinned. “Does he know that?”

“Absolutely.” But she was chewing on her lower lip.

“Good to know.” Veronica’s gaze bounced between Felicity and Robert, who was animatedly talking on his phone across the restaurant. “Excuse me.” She pushed back her chair and headed toward the restrooms.

When Felicity’s green eyes met Graham’s, he couldn’t stop the laughter.

“Hush,” she hissed, shoving his shoulder. “It’s not funny.”

“It sort of is,” he argued.

“Nope, not in the least.” Her hands toyed with the paper straw wrapper on the table. “We were meeting to talk about Jack, the whole guardianship thing. Period.”

“Well, that’s good. He’s located someone for Jack?” It would make life ten times easier for Felicity and her kids.

But she was shaking her head. “No. That’s the problem. There’s now a question about whether or not Amber has any family. Finding someone to take Jack might be more difficult than expected.” She went back to chewing her lower lip.

“Seems like the sort of thing he could have shared over the phone?”

She nodded. “I know.”

But he knew exactly why Rob hadn’t left her a voicemail. He wanted time with Felicity. Not exactly an ethical or professional way to go about it but definitely effective. But the tension bracketing her mouth made him think laughter might be in order. “I thought I heard him say something about a date?”

“This is not a date.” The drop dead look she shot him faded when she realized he was teasing. “Seriously, Graham, it’s been a while, but I think you have to ask someone out for it to be considered a date.” She waited, a crease forming between her brows. “It still works that way, doesn’t it? Or have I been in mom survival-mode so long the rules have changed?”

“You’re asking me? I’m pretty sure that’s still the way it works.” He shrugged. “I’ve played enough golf with Rob Klein to know how he works. He wants something, he goes for it. Like a human bulldozer.” He shook his head. “In a charming, nonthreatening way, of course.” From the proprietary smiles Rob had been sending her way through the entire meal, there was no misunderstanding the man’s interest. And why not? She was…Felicity. She deserved a man who’d see her for the incredible woman she was.

But Rob Klein? Graham didn’t like it. At all.

She blinked, those emerald green eyes going wider. “I’m sorry. Was that supposed to be helpful?”

He wasn’t sure. Was he trying to warn her away? Why? Rob wasn’t a bad guy.

But Rob returned before Graham could say anything else. “As much as I’d like to stay and have coffee, there’s been a hiccup in a deposition I’m working on. I’ll see you in a few days, both of you, to finalize as much of the paperwork as possible.”

“Sounds good.” Graham nodded.

Veronica joined them. “You leaving?” she asked Rob. “I should go, too. It’s been a long day. You can walk me out.”

“I can do that,” Rob agreed—while looking at Felicity.

Graham was always fascinated by human nature. Sometimes it was amusing; sometimes not so much. At the moment, it was a toss-up. Now that Veronica knew Rob was available, she was turning on the charm. But Rob only had eyes for Felicity. And Felicity… She looked ready to crawl under the table.

“See you tomorrow, Graham.” Veronica waved, collecting her purse. “It was nice to meet you, Felicity.”

“You, too. I’m sure I’ll see you around. Pecan Valley isn’t that big a town.” Felicity smiled.

“Sorry to run out on you, Felicity.” Rob edged around the table to stand by her chair.

Either the man was clueless about Felicity’s level of interest or he was determined to win her over, Graham wasn’t sure. But if she leaned any farther away from Rob Klein, she would end up on the restaurant floor.

“No problem.” She held her hand out. “I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me.” She swallowed. “To discuss my…Matt’s…the case. I appreciate the work you’re doing.”

“I appreciate you having dinner with me. Let’s do it again soon.” Rob cradled her hand in his. “I’ll call you.”

Once Rob and Veronica were out of earshot, Graham said, “That was awkward.”

Felicity nodded. “Yes. It was.”

“No second date?” he asked, smiling.

Her brows rose. “You think you’re funny, don’t you?”

“Maybe.” He chuckled. “A little.”

“You’re not. Not in the least.” She sighed, propping herself on her elbow and smiling at him. “Do I smell an office romance in the works?”

He frowned.

“Graham, she’s gorgeous.” Her gaze searched his. “Veronica. Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed.”

“She was by far the most qualified.” His frown grew.

“Yes, I heard all about her credentials over dinner tonight.” Her nose wrinkled. “Qualified and gorgeous.”

He shrugged. Whether or not his new hire was attractive hadn’t factored into his decision to hire her. “Her résumé was all that mattered. And her references. Besides, my only competition in town is an all-female clinic. Hiring a woman was a smart move.”

“Graham.” Felicity sighed. “What is wrong with us?”

“What do you mean? There’s nothing wrong with us.” He paused. “With me, anyway.”

“Ha ha.” She glanced at the door. “Rob’s a nice guy. Let’s face it, there aren’t a lot of men to choose from for a woman my age. So what’s wrong with him? Rather, what’s wrong with me?”

You have standards? Shit. She was right. Rob might be a little pushy and not in the least bit intuitive, but he was decent. “If it makes you feel any better, the same thing happened to me.”

She burst out laughing. “Rob Klein tricked you into going on a date with him?”

“Now who’s the comedian?” He grinned. “Two words: Widow Rainey.”

“Ooh.” She leaned forward, waiting. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

He snorted. “She gave my cell number to Romi Takahashi—told her I was too nervous to call and ask her out for coffee.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table.

“Are you?” Felicity studied him.

“No.” He met her gaze. “I’ve never thought about getting coffee with her.” To be completely honest, he hadn’t thought about going out with any woman. And, until now, he hadn’t stopped to ask himself why.

“Is there something wrong with this Romi Takahashi?”

“Aside from the fact that she expelled Diana from St. Thomas?” Not that she had a choice. When a student was caught with marijuana at school, action was required. But, besides her name, he didn’t remember a thing about her. Maybe he’d been too preoccupied with Diana. Or maybe he wasn’t interested in the woman.

Hell, in dating. How could he be when every one of Adelaide Keanon’s warnings were burned into his brain. His daughter was a danger to herself. She needed help.

“Maybe… Maybe we should go.” She wrinkled her nose again, looking young and uncertain. “You take Romi for coffee, and I’ll, maybe, try this date thing with Rob. If he calls.”

Oh, he’ll call. And it bothered him. That she was considering officially dating Rob bothered him. He swallowed. “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to be alone for the rest of my life. And I don’t think you do, either. I’m not saying you’ll wind up with Romi or I’ll elope with Rob—it doesn’t even have to be Romi. What about Dr. Luna? Or ask Widow Rainey, she’d love to help. I’m just saying we have to start somewhere. We have to put ourselves out there, right?”

From first dates to eloping? Where the hell had that come from? That was some leap. One he wasn’t ready to contemplate.

“Right?” she pushed.

“Right.” What the hell was the question?