The Bachelor's Baby
Mia Ross
Forging a FamilySingle mom-to-be Lindsay Holland is hoping for a fresh start in her sleepy New England hometown. First on her agenda is finding a way to support herself and her precious baby. But the only job opening is as an office manager to her high-school sweetheart—the man she once ran from. She knows Brian Calhoun needs help resurrecting his family’s blacksmith shop, but can she get him to take a chance on her? Organizing a Valentine’s Day fundraiser together makes Lindsay realize just how much she wants a second chance with the handsome craftsman. As sparks fly, can they transform their rekindled friendship into a new, loving family?Liberty Creek: Love takes root in a New England town
Forging a Family
Single mom-to-be Lindsay Holland is hoping for a fresh start in her sleepy New England hometown. First on her agenda is finding a way to support herself and her precious baby. But the only job opening is as an office manager for her high-school sweetheart—the man she once ran from. She knows Brian Calhoun needs help resurrecting his family’s blacksmith shop, but can she get him to take a chance on her? Organizing a Valentine’s Day fund-raiser together makes Lindsay realize just how much she wants a second chance with the handsome craftsman. As sparks fly, can they transform their rekindled friendship into a new, loving family?
MIA ROSS loves great stories. She enjoys reading about fascinating people, long-ago times and exotic places. But only for a little while, because her reality is pretty sweet. Married to her college sweetheart, she’s the proud mom of two amazing kids, whose schedules keep her hopping. Busy as she is, she can’t imagine trading her life for anyone else’s—and she has a pretty good imagination. You can visit her online at miaross.com (http://www.miaross.com).
Also By Mia Ross (#uc198ad8e-3bc2-5d68-9cca-7fc7dc43ef46)
Liberty Creek
Mending the Widow’s Heart
The Bachelor’s Baby
Oaks Crossing
Her Small-Town Cowboy
Rescued by the Farmer
Hometown Holiday Reunion
Falling for the Single Mom
Barrett’s Mill
Blue Ridge Reunion
Sugar Plum Season
Finding His Way Home
Loving the Country Boy
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Bachelor’s Baby
Mia Ross
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-08033-0
THE BACHELOR’S BABY
© 2018 Andrea Chermak
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
By payment of the required fees, you are granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right and licence to download and install this e-book on your personal computer, tablet computer, smart phone or other electronic reading device only (each a “Licensed Device”) and to access, display and read the text of this e-book on-screen on your Licensed Device. Except to the extent any of these acts shall be permitted pursuant to any mandatory provision of applicable law but no further, no part of this e-book or its text or images may be reproduced, transmitted, distributed, translated, converted or adapted for use on another file format, communicated to the public, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of publisher.
® and ™ are trademarks owned and used by the trademark owner and/or its licensee. Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries.
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
“Can I make a suggestion?”
“You’re the boss.”
“I mean, just as me. Not your boss.”
“Oh.” Resting her hands in her lap, Lindsay gave him a curious look. “Go ahead.”
“How ’bout if we both agree to let the past be in the past, and go on from here? That way you can stop apologizing for what happened years ago.”
“Does that mean you forgive me?”
Until recently, Brian never would’ve thought that kind of thing was possible. But now, sitting here with the woman who’d single-handedly helped him save his fledgling business, he couldn’t imagine anything else. Smiling, he said, “Yes, Lindsay, I forgive you.”
She beamed at him. “If I could get out of this chair gracefully, I’d hug you.”
“No problem. I’ll settle for that smile.”
“Really?”
“Sure. I always loved seeing you happy.”
He hadn’t intended to say that out loud, but when those incredible blue eyes brightened with joy, he decided maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea, after all.
Dear Reader (#uc198ad8e-3bc2-5d68-9cca-7fc7dc43ef46),
I hope you enjoyed your visit to snowy Liberty Creek!
I was watching one of my favorite home improvement shows one day, and there was a guest star who ran a custom metalworking shop. He made that cold, impersonal medium into beautiful works of art, and an idea started forming in my head. I remembered going to a local living history museum and a Renaissance festival and being fascinated by the blacksmiths and how the tools of their trade hadn’t changed much in the three hundred years separating their eras. From there, Brian Calhoun’s vintage forge and the challenges it would face operating in this century came to life for me, and the research was some of the most interesting I’ve ever done.
But as good a metalsmith as he was, he needed some help. Lindsay Holland walked onto the stage of this charming little town, and I liked her right away. Sassy, smart and independent, she’s the kind of woman I admire: one who takes the curveballs life gives her and turns them into home runs. Despite the odds stacked against her, she was able to move past her failures and do what was necessary to build a better future. The world can be a tough place to navigate, and it takes serious determination—and faith—to be successful. Lindsay had the first trait all along, and once she discovered the second, she found the strength to make a good life for herself and her daughter.
If you’d like to stop in and see what I’ve been up to, you’ll find me online at miaross.com (http://www.miaross.com), Facebook, Twitter and Goodreads. While you’re there, send me a message in your favorite format. I’d love to hear from you!
Mia Ross
Love one another.
—John 13:34
For the talented artisans and craftspeople
working to keep our history alive.
Acknowledgments (#uc198ad8e-3bc2-5d68-9cca-7fc7dc43ef46)
To Melissa Endlich and the dedicated staff at
Love Inspired. These very talented folks help me
make my books everything they can be.
More thanks to the gang at Seekerville,
a great place to hang out online with readers—and writers.
I’ve been blessed with a wonderful network
of supportive, encouraging family and friends.
You inspire me every day!
Contents
Cover (#u21b59a46-586d-574a-8743-bcc2c2987253)
Back Cover Text (#u6e00cd0c-1f3b-5c58-b5cf-449b1aa86534)
About the Author (#u15401454-c138-5fa3-91a9-32d7fcd1d5fe)
Booklist (#u6ac230b1-ec3e-5453-9e69-4ca3511d1fbb)
Title Page (#u94e8c2ef-939a-5c71-9881-8b1f37528020)
Copyright (#u490de295-293b-57f8-8af7-ca49ed8a65cb)
Introduction (#uad6cfcf3-b9af-5994-965c-d701f4a73743)
Dear Reader (#uba866cd7-1c42-5707-ad82-e973e3f8d2a6)
Bible Verse (#ub16150a7-2b42-546c-a706-c518f3096a49)
Dedication (#u39012614-74fc-5ec3-b381-cc70d0222bca)
Acknowledgments (#u4c9ca606-8e90-59f3-b9e2-7f4eee6ec7ce)
Chapter One (#u14b20f4f-5cdf-5803-8d0f-ffb0af1e308e)
Chapter Two (#u6422ee41-4173-5b0e-a591-ccbebe9ffcb8)
Chapter Three (#ucf4fb9bd-798e-554e-83c3-0c146c28dd62)
Chapter Four (#u470aff54-d48d-5ca3-afc4-947f8178054b)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#uc198ad8e-3bc2-5d68-9cca-7fc7dc43ef46)
Liberty Creek was the last place on earth she wanted to be.
Lindsay Holland reluctantly dragged her feet up Main Street of the backwater New Hampshire village she’d escaped from five years ago, berating herself for allowing her life to slide so far out of control. As her mind took an unpleasant spiral down memory lane, she resolutely jerked her thoughts out of the past to focus on her immediate—and precarious—present. A long line of bad decisions had landed her here, she reminded herself sternly. Now she was completely out of options, and the only thing she could do was find a job so she could begin digging herself out of the black hole that had engulfed her and swallowed up what had once seemed to her like a promising future.
It was a frigid January morning, and a Monday to boot, neither of which did much to lift her mood. Pausing outside the only place in town that was currently hiring, she couldn’t help smiling at the hand-lettered slab of cardboard hanging in the grimy window of Liberty Creek Forge.
“Office Help Wanted” it had said at one point. Apparently, things were getting more urgent, because someone had crossed out “Wanted” and in bold black marker had written “Desperately Needed.”
Constructed in the 1820s by the founders of the town, the building and run-down cottage beside it didn’t look as if they were capable of housing anything other than a lot of spiders and archaic ironworking equipment. But the ad that had been tacked to the bulletin board inside the post office was dated only two days ago, so she’d decided to take a chance on it. How bad could it be? she mused as she knocked on the door. Worst case, they’d tell her she wasn’t right for the job. She’d heard that so often recently, she’d become immune to the sting of being rejected. Almost.
But this time, she couldn’t let that happen, she reminded herself. She had to make this work because this was the end of the line for her, and as hard as she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to devise a plan B. So Lindsay squared her shoulders and did her best to think positive. It had been so long since anything good had happened to her, she’d almost forgotten what confidence felt like. How depressing.
When no one answered her knock, she inched the door open and realized that whoever was inside couldn’t hear anything over the loud rock music and clanging of steel. She’d been on field trips to the old metal shop during middle school, and as she stepped inside and set down her single duffel bag, it struck her that the lobby probably hadn’t changed a bit in the twenty-six years she’d been alive.
Neat but unapologetically functional, the bare-bones area held four mismatched folding chairs and a battered table that looked as if it could have been left behind by the original owners of the business. The stainless steel coffee maker on top of it looked decidedly out of place, and the collection of teas and coffees alongside it was an encouraging sign. Despite the rustic environment, it was clear that someone thought enough of their staff to provide them with some creature comforts.
A set of wide sliding doors stood at the rear of the entryway, and even though they were closed, she could hear the muffled hard-driving bass from a rock classic. Funny, she thought as she edged one of the doors open, it had been one of her favorite songs since high school. Unfortunately, that brought up more unpleasant memories, and she batted them aside as she strode into the production area of the metalworks.
As tidy as the front was, this section of the building was a step short of a disaster. A tall man wearing a protective mask and leather apron was welding one old piece of equipment to another, possibly even older, machine. Really, he should just call a scrap metal firm to haul everything out so he could start over. Then again, this was her prospective new boss, and in her situation she couldn’t afford to be picky.
Before she could lose her nerve, Lindsay crossed the dusty floor and waited for an opportune moment to tap him on the shoulder. Clearly startled, he whipped around so fast, she had to dodge the glowing torch in his gloved hand.
“Oh, man,” he muttered as he turned away and doused the flame. “I’m sorry.”
He’d scared her half to death, but she forced a bright tone to avoid coming across like a baby. “No harm done. I’m pretty light on my feet.”
For some reason, he kept his back to her and very carefully peeled off the gloves, setting them beside the torch before turning to her. And then, as if in slow motion, he swiveled the welder’s mask back to reveal the very last person she’d expected to see today.
“Brian Calhoun?”
Framed by a riot of brown hair, his deep blue eyes narrowed in the expression she recalled only too well. Those chiseled features hadn’t changed at all over the years, and his jaw clenched a bit before he nodded. “Lindsay.”
“What are you doing here?” she demanded in a near panic, any thought of making a good first impression gone. There was no point in dancing around the issue. After what she’d done to him, she suspected that Brian wouldn’t hire her if she was the only unemployed office manager left in the universe.
“I own this place,” he informed her coolly. “What’re you doing here?”
“Looking for a job,” she blurted before reason kicked in to remind her that there wasn’t much sense in pursuing this any further. Then again, it had been a long time since she’d left. It was possible that he’d forgiven her. “I was surprised to see your ad at the post office. My understanding was that it was more your grandfather’s hobby shop than anything.”
“It was. He had a heart attack four years ago and wasn’t able to keep the place up the way he always did, so he closed it down. He died not long after that.”
“I’m so sorry... I know how close you two were. You must really miss him.”
“This was where he taught me about metalworking, so I decided to try running it as an actual business again. Kind of as a tribute to Granddad.”
Having moved from pillar to post throughout her childhood, Lindsay couldn’t relate to feeling that kind of connection to anywhere in particular. She’d never considered it a problem, but she’d been kicked around more than she would have liked, and now she envied him of those deep, stabilizing roots. Realizing she should say something, she searched for a response that wouldn’t betray how dire her own circumstances were. “That’s nice.”
He didn’t say anything to that, just stared at her with the penetrating gaze that had once fallen on her with such warmth, she’d almost believed that she deserved his affection. Now there was no sign of anything in it other than icy contempt, and after what she’d done, she couldn’t blame him.
Just when she was about to concede defeat, the wording on his sign came to mind. She was pretty desperate herself, and while this situation was far from ideal, it was the only one available to her. So, hoping to appeal to the innate sense of chivalry that ran in the Calhoun boys’ blood, she took a deep breath and summoned what was left of her dignity. “I need a job, and you need someone to handle the administrative end of the business. I worked as an office manager at a small law firm for two years. I’m very organized and will do whatever needs to be done out front so you can focus on production for your customers. I think we can help each other.”
“Do you?” Cocking his head, he assessed her with a skeptical look. After a few long, uncomfortable moments, he asked, “How’s Jeff?”
“Gone.” She sighed, her fleeting bout of moxie evaporating like mist. “You were right about him.”
Brian absorbed that, shaking his head in silent disapproval. Then, to her utter astonishment, he announced, “I always thought he was a snake. You’re better off without him.”
Bolstered by his reaction, she felt a flicker of hope that this awkward reunion might not end up being a complete disaster. “Thank you for saying that. I know I don’t deserve it.”
That got her a short, derisive laugh. “Because you dumped me for a sweet-talking loser who promised to take you to— Where was it?”
“Nevada. For the record, we never made it past Ohio.”
“I’m not surprised.”
Of course not, Lindsay thought morosely. No one was, except for her. Sadly, that had been only the first of many disappointments she’d had to contend with since breaking free of the confines of this Currier and Ives town to explore the world beyond New Hampshire. Her adventures had left her beyond penniless and anxious to find a safe haven that would allow her to gain her bearings and figure out what came next in a life that up until now had been dominated by wanderlust and chaos.
Working for Brian would be difficult, at best, but she really didn’t see an alternative. “Past atrocious judgment aside, I’m an excellent worker and will do things however you want them done.” Gulping down her anxiety, she added, “I really need this job, Brian. I promise, if you give me a chance, I’ll be very professional and you won’t have a bit of trouble with me.”
He pinned her under an unforgiving scowl. “You let me down once. Why should I trust you again?”
“Because that was a long time ago, and I’m a different person now.” He had no idea just how different, she added silently.
Another long pause. Conflicting emotions chased each other like thunderclouds through his eyes, and he seemed to be having some kind of internal debate about her. She wanted to squirm while he thought it over, but managed to stand her ground, holding his gaze with an unflinching one of her own. If he wanted to boot her out the door, fine. But she wasn’t going to turn tail and slink away like a scolded hound. There was too much at stake for her to be timid now.
“I’m ready for a break,” he finally said. “Let’s go talk in the office.”
It wasn’t exactly the “you’re hired” she’d been wishing for, but he hadn’t thrown her out into the snow, either. Feeling more optimistic than she had in months, Lindsay tried not to get her hopes up as she followed him back through the shop and into the small office. The plate glass that used to separate it from the work area was gone, and in its place was a banged-up piece of plywood that had seen better days. Brian started up a space heater in the corner, and once he closed the door, the interior warmed up quickly.
“I’m parched,” he said as he opened a countertop fridge and took out a bottle of iced tea. “I’ve got water, too. Would you like some?”
Considering his earlier comments, his offer of something to drink was a huge step in the right direction, and she nodded. “Thank you.”
After handing her the bottle, he twisted the top off his and took a long swallow. She sipped hers and held it against her cheek, enjoying the coolness against her skin.
“It’s pretty warm in here,” he said, holding out his hand. “Can I take your coat?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
Her stoic comment earned her a chuckle. “Your face is getting redder by the second. If you’re worried about it getting wrinkled, I can probably scare up a hanger for it.”
“That’s not necessary.” Hearing the stiffness in her voice, she tried in vain to come up with a way to explain her odd behavior. Then, figuring that showing him was better than telling him, she set her water bottle down on the desk and took off her coat.
If she lived to be a hundred years old, she knew she’d never forget the look on his face.
* * *
“You’re pregnant.”
His surprise visitor shook long dark curls back over the shoulders of a maternity top that was better suited for fall than the middle of winter. Meeting his gaze with a directness that was a little unsettling, Lindsay gave him a pitying look. As they stared at each other, that all-too-familiar smirk crinkled the corner of her mouth. “Observant as ever, aren’t you?”
Brian had no clue what else he could possibly say. While his brain was struggling to wrap itself around her stunning revelation, his hackles began to rise, and he fought to keep his voice down. “Is Jeff the baby’s father?”
“Of course he is,” she snapped, flinging her coat onto the cluttered desk in a fit of the flash-fire temper that had apparently not mellowed much over the years. After blowing out an exasperated breath, she faced him squarely, the spirit that had always captivated him glittering in those incredible sky blue eyes. “I was with him for almost six years. Only him,” she added crisply.
Brian had a few choice words to say about the length of their noncommittal relationship, but he kept them to himself. At twenty-seven, he was a contented bachelor and far from being an expert on pregnancy. But he knew enough to be aware that upsetting her wouldn’t be good for Lindsay or the innocent child she was carrying. Whatever had gone on since she broke his heart and left him behind, it apparently hadn’t ended well. Piling on the guilt would only make her feel worse, and while the bitterness he felt toward his ex was still alive and well, browbeating her over mistakes she’d made in the past would be cruel.
“All right, I’m sorry.” Motioning to the desk chair, he said, “Have a seat and let’s start this conversation over again.”
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously and she nailed him with a mistrustful glare. “You’ll be nice?”
“Sure,” he replied, doing his best to appear as if it didn’t bother him that the troubled girl he’d once loved more than anything had unexpectedly dropped back into his life pregnant with another man’s child.
“Promise?”
Some of the defiance left her expression, and he heard the slightest tremble in her soft voice. It made her sound vulnerable, like a frightened little girl who was searching for someone who would reassure her that everything was going to be okay. “Yeah, I promise.”
In his memory, Brian flashed back to his junior year in high school, when Lindsay Holland had been the pretty new sophomore every guy wanted to date. One afternoon, he’d run across her sitting in the stands after a football game, crushed by the self-centered quarterback who’d just dumped her for a cheerleader. After comforting Lindsay, Brian had tracked down the arrogant jerk and made sure that he never forgot what breaking her trusting heart had cost him.
And now, they were together again, in more or less the same set of circumstances. Plus a baby, of course. The irony of the bizarre circle they’d made didn’t escape Brian, and those old protective instincts kicked in, making him wonder where he might find Jeff Mortensen these days. “I never liked the guy, but I can’t believe he’d leave you and his own child to fend for yourselves that way.”
“He doesn’t know about the baby. I found out I was pregnant shortly after he took off.”
“Is that right?”
“I know that look, so don’t even think about it,” Lindsay warned, as if she’d read his mind somehow. “I don’t want you getting into it with Jeff. We’re not teenagers anymore, and you don’t have to defend my honor. I got myself into this mess, and I’ll come up with a way to get out of it. Eventually,” she added glumly.
How she knew what he’d been thinking was beyond him, but Brian chalked it up to their shared history and the fact that he wasn’t really all that complicated. So he shrugged it off and waited for her to get comfortable. Or as comfortable as a pregnant woman could in a straight-back wooden armchair. Once she was facing him, he started again.
Deciding humor was the best approach, he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall beside the beat-up table he used as a desk. “So, Lindsay, how’ve you been?”
Amusement twinkled in her eyes, and at last she smiled. “Good. And you?”
“Questioning my sanity ever since I came up with the idea of rehabbing this place and getting into the iron decor business.”
“How’s it going?”
“Nowhere,” he admitted grimly. “I’ve got a few contracts, but the problem with specialty work is that once you’ve filled an order, there’s no more coming in behind it. My cousin Jordan’s planning to come help out once his summer season is over, which will make a huge difference in the range of products I can offer. The problem is, I’m nowhere near the artist he is, so I have to figure out how to keep from going bankrupt before then.”
“Jordan, your cousin who does metalwork for the art fairs?” When he nodded, she said, “I remember him being really talented.”
“He is, but his head for business is worse than mine. Which is why I need someone who’s organized and good with computers.”
Lindsay glanced around, angling to look behind filing cabinets that dated back to the turn of the twentieth century. Then she came back to him and grinned. “I don’t see a computer.”
“I don’t even know what to buy,” he confided with a deep sigh. “I’m a hands-on kinda guy. I can build or fix just about anything, but when it comes to technology...”
“You’re clueless,” she filled in, laughing lightly. “It takes a big man to admit he’s got a weakness.”
“You make that sound like a good thing.”
All traces of humor left her features, and she said, “Being honest is. That’s a very good thing.”
Brian wanted to kick himself for making her sad, and then logic reminded him that he had nothing to do with the decisions she’d made that had landed her in her current situation. As she’d so readily admitted, it was her own fault.
But there was a tiny part of him, way back in the corner of his guarded heart, that still loved the girl she’d once been. The one who’d looked up at him like he was her hero because he’d stepped in to defend her when no one else would. Before she’d cast him aside for the hazy prospect of adventure, without an explanation or even a goodbye. “Lindsay, what happened?”
Instantly, she stiffened and glowered at him. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, you hated it here when we were in high school. When you left, I figured you’d never come back.”
She hesitated, as if she was trying to decide whether to confide in him or not. Strangely enough, that was how he knew that whatever she finally told him would be the deep-down truth.
“Believe it or not, much as I detested this Podunk town, it’s the only place I’ve ever lived where I felt like there were some people who actually cared about what happened to me. That’s really important to me right now,” she added, smoothing a hand over her stomach in a maternal gesture that struck a deep chord in him.
“I get you not wanting to be alone because of the baby, but why didn’t you go to your mom?”
“We had a nasty falling-out, and I haven’t seen or talked to her in years. I don’t even know where she is, and if I did I wouldn’t degrade myself by asking her for anything.”
Brian vaguely remembered Vera Holland, a flirtatious single mother whose behavior had made life miserable for her daughter. Through no fault of her own, Lindsay’s reputation had suffered, and more than once he’d spoken out in her defense when some classmate or another had assumed the worst of her.
Taking a deep breath, she went on in a calmer tone. “I’ve been living in Cleveland, and when it occurred to me to come back to New Hampshire, I found out that the newspaper over in Waterford has a website. In their real estate section I found a room to rent here in town. I sent the landlord first and last month’s rent to hold the spot for me and then took the last of my cash to the bus depot.”
“Let me guess. Jeff has the car.”
“Took it,” she clarified bitterly. “Along with all the money in our joint account. A few weeks ago, a collection agency called and, after some serious legwork, I found out that he’s been running up the balances on the credit cards that were in both our names. The lawyer I used to work for helped me separate my finances from Jeff’s, but my credit’s shot, and the money’s gone forever.”
“But you must’ve been making decent money as an office manager. I don’t understand how things got so bad.”
“I was okay at first,” she confirmed quietly. “Then I found out I was pregnant, and the stress I was under gave me some pretty serious health problems. Because of that, I couldn’t work consistently, and even the temp agency stopped calling. The lease on the apartment was up, and there was no way I could make the payments, so I had to move out. When I left Cleveland, I had just enough in my wallet for the fare to Liberty Creek and a couple of sandwiches.”
Trusting the wrong guy had all but ruined her life, Brian mused sadly. And now, her flair for poor choices and running away when things got tough had left her well and truly alone. Part of him still had a soft spot for the troubled girl he remembered all too vividly and was inclined to help her.
The other part—the smarter one—recognized that once again she’d fled from her problems without much thought about what she’d do when she reached her new destination. That had always been her MO, and apparently her tendency to dodge the hard stuff hadn’t changed.
For all his wild ways, Brian knew he’d been blessed with a large, loving family that supported him no matter what he did. They’d even warmed up to his crazy idea of reopening the archaic blacksmith shop that had lain dormant for so long the equipment was caked with rust and bat droppings. Knowing that Lindsay was slogging through such a difficult time completely on her own made him sadder than anything ever had.
But he wasn’t about to trust his fledgling business to someone who’d shown such poor judgment and was a proven flight risk. He had a large payment due on his business loan in just nine weeks. If the forge didn’t start turning a profit soon, he’d have to stop his improvements halfway through and find another way to keep the place going. He knew that his family would contribute to the cause, but he didn’t want to do it that way. Quite honestly, he’d rather sell everything he owned to pay the bank rather than beg for cash from anyone.
Thoughts of being strapped for funds prompted a sobering thought. “When did you last see a doctor?”
“About a month ago, when I was six months along. I’m not due until mid-March, and he said everything was fine.”
But it wasn’t fine now, Brian thought grimly. Anyone could see that. She was pale, and now that they weren’t sparring with each other, he noticed the tired circles shadowing her eyes. Hopeful and hopeless at the same time, her cautious demeanor got to him in a way that he’d never experienced before. He barely resisted the urge to take her in his arms and reassure her, but he knew better than to let his guard down around her again.
Standing to put some distance between them, he picked up her coat and held it for her. “It’s not a good day for walking anywhere. I’ll give you a ride to that house you mentioned.”
The hopelessness he’d picked up on finally won out, and she frowned. “You’re not going to hire me, are you?”
He felt like a complete heel, but every alarm in his head was going off, and he couldn’t ignore his instincts. “I really think it’d be better if I find someone else.”
“Of course,” she replied as if that was the result she’d been expecting all along. “I understand.”
There was the professionalism she’d promised him, he mused as she slipped her well-worn coat back on. Calm and competent, it was the kind of temperament that he was looking for in the person he would be trusting to run his front office.
Crazy as it seemed, Lindsay would have been perfect for the job. The problem was, he just couldn’t convince himself to trust her.
Chapter Two (#uc198ad8e-3bc2-5d68-9cca-7fc7dc43ef46)
Brian refused to let her carry her bag.
Lindsay couldn’t remember the last time someone had helped her with anything, so seeing him with her oversize duffel slung over his shoulder did something funky to her stomach. Or maybe she was just hungry, she thought wryly. The effects of that stale candy bar she’d bought in Cleveland had worn off long before she reached Liberty Creek.
The town she’d vowed to leave in her rearview mirror, she recalled as they got into his big black four-by-four and headed to the address her new landlord had given her. Well, there was no help for that now. It was the dead of winter, and since she had no car, she was stuck here until the baby was born. After that, she could make some plans to move away, for good this time. Until then, she’d just have to figure out a way to make do.
The house wasn’t far from the forge, in a nice, quiet neighborhood with a clear view of Liberty Creek’s iconic covered bridge. She knocked on the front door of a small Colonial that was typical of the homes in this town that had come into existence shortly after the American Revolution. Tucked in for the winter behind wrought iron fences that were almost invisible beneath the snow, many of the chimneys had smoke drifting lazily up from fireplaces that must keep things warm and cozy inside.
Family places, she thought with a pang of envy. Kitchens filled with home-baked cookies and pot roasts, the kinds of food that her own mother had never made because two waitressing jobs had left her with no energy by dinnertime. Lindsay remembered how her friends’ moms had been—warm and kind, taking care of their husbands and kids every single day. She’d never met her own father, who’d bolted long before she came into the world.
Like Jeff.
More than once, she’d wondered if she was cursed to continue her mother’s path of destruction in her own life. Pushing the gloomy thought aside, she plastered a smile on her face as footsteps sounded on the other side of the heavy door.
A petite woman slowly pulled it open and squinted out at Lindsay. “May I help you?”
“Hello, Mrs. Farrington. I’m Lindsay Holland,” she explained, offering her hand and her friendliest smile. “We talked last week about your spare room, and I sent you a money order for the deposit. When I asked about moving in on Monday, you said that would be fine.”
“And that’s today?” the woman asked, seeming confused. When Lindsay nodded, she shook her head with a slight grimace. “I lose track sometimes. Please come in.”
“Thank you.”
The elderly woman gave Brian a quick once-over that settled on his boots. Grinning, he set Lindsay’s bag down and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll stay on the mat.”
“I’d appreciate that. All this ice and snow makes a mess of the wood floors.”
“When I spoke to you on the phone, you said that you and your husband are from Georgia,” Lindsay commented. “How are you liking New Hampshire?”
“It’s cold and wet,” a man’s voice replied from an open archway that led into a living room that still sported its original wood paneling. He did the assessing thing, too, but while he instantly dismissed Brian, his gaze swept over Lindsay twice, and his jaw tightened. “May I take your coat, Miss Holland?”
The stiff tone seemed to contradict his polite request, and she couldn’t put her finger on what was going on as she slipped out of her coat. When she held it out for him to take, he pinned her with a scowl that was colder than the air outside.
“You’re pregnant.”
“Yes, I am.” Glancing at his wife, she got no help whatsoever, so she focused back on him. “Is that a problem?”
“You didn’t mention that when we spoke,” he reminded her in an accusing tone.
“I didn’t think to. Does it matter?”
“Will your husband be joining you?”
“I’m not married,” she answered, bewildered by the sudden hostility. And again, she asked, “Is that a problem?”
Mr. Farrington’s lips pressed into a flat, disapproving line, and he all but spat, “We don’t rent to tramps like you.”
Lindsay felt Brian step up behind her in the protective gesture she remembered so fondly from her difficult high school years. She could feel the fury pouring off him, and she silently begged him not to do anything that would cause the elderly couple to call the sheriff.
“I guess you’ve got the right to renege on your deal,” Brian began in a tone that made it clear what he thought of that, “but the lady sent you a deposit, trusting that there’d be a room waiting for her. She’ll be needing that back.”
“Didn’t sign nothin’,” the man argued half-heartedly, probably because he knew Brian was right.
The two glowered at each other, the older one defensive while the younger one simply stared back as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. After nearly a minute of that, Brian folded his arms in an obstinate way that announced he wasn’t leaving until the man refunded Lindsay’s down payment to her.
“Ed, just give her the money,” his wife pleaded, obviously anxious to have the whole nasty business over with. “I’m sure we can get by without it for a while longer.”
He didn’t respond but dug a battered wallet from his back pocket and leafed through the contents. Lindsay was fairly certain that he was selecting the most worn bills to give her, and it was all she could do to keep her mouth shut. The whole incident echoed the snobbish way she’d been treated by some of her holier-than-thou classmates, and it was tough not to lash out at the man who’d mashed one of her buttons.
When he finally had the right amount, he pointedly set it on the hallway table before turning and stalking back the way he’d come. It was as if he didn’t want to risk catching anything by handing the cash to her, and Lindsay summoned the tattered remnants of her dignity, fighting to keep her temper in check.
“I really am sorry about this, Miss Holland,” Mrs. Farrington said quietly as she opened the door for them. “We’re in a bad way, and renting that room to you would’ve made a big difference to all of us. I wish we could have helped each other.”
The woman sounded sincere, and Lindsay put aside her own predicament to show some compassion as she retrieved the money that Ed had left. “I do, too. What will you do now?”
“Find another renter, I suppose. It’s not easy in the wintertime because folks are pretty well dug in where they are until spring. When you called about our ad, I thought it was the answer to my prayers.”
Understandably distraught, she waited for them to leave and eased the door closed behind them. The sound of three different locks engaging ended the uncomfortable confrontation with a finality that sent Lindsay’s heart plunging to the snow-covered walkway beneath her feet. Thoroughly soaked from tramping around in her thin flat shoes, they were taking on a decided chill that only made her more miserable. As they headed back to Brian’s truck, she felt her heart sinking a little lower with each step.
“Now what?” she asked, glancing back at the house that had seemed so welcoming but had proven to be the exact opposite.
“Lunch. I’m starving.”
Her hero, she thought with a fondness that startled her. Over the years, she’d often thought of the rakish boy who’d fought so many battles for her, even before they’d become serious about each other. While he’d been—and still was—one of the best-looking guys she’d ever met, his unswerving willingness to defend her had been the quality she’d admired most about him.
“Okay, but it’s on me,” she replied, waving the fistful of cash she now held, thanks to him.
“Not a chance. I’m a Calhoun, and we never let a lady pay.”
“But—”
“Save your money,” he interrupted her as he tossed her bag into the well behind the seat and helped her up into the cab. “You’ve got a baby on the way, so you’re gonna need it.”
Baby on the way and no place to live, she added mentally. Technically, she was in the same predicament as yesterday, although the details had changed slightly. The weather hadn’t, though, and she shivered despite the warmth of the cab.
“What’m I gonna do?” Hearing the whine in her voice, she cringed and closed her eyes before resting her head on the foggy window.
Brian shifted in his seat, a sure sign that she was making him uncomfortable. Considering how she’d treated him in the past, she felt awful for putting him in the awkward position of being her rescuer. That had been okay when they were younger, but she was a grown woman now, and a mother-to-be besides. No matter how many curve balls life threw at her, she’d have to maneuver her way through them.
Alone.
Forcing herself to look over at him, she gathered up her courage. “I’m sorry, Brian. This is my problem, not yours. I’ll figure it out.”
Being let off the hook seemed to ease his tension, and he visibly relaxed. “For now, we’re gonna get you something to eat. I’m sure Gran has something over at the bakery that’ll warm you up.”
Ellie Calhoun was one of Lindsay’s few fond memories of this place, and just hearing the woman’s name made her smile. “That sounds great.”
Brian nodded and headed down Main Street toward the tiny business district. She suspected that it had been pretty much the same since the day the founding Calhoun brothers opened their blacksmith shop next to the winding creek that gave the town its name. The stores were small, but each had a large front window that displayed what was sold inside. There was an old-fashioned confectionary, a bookstore that advertised gourmet coffee and a high-speed internet connection, even a small-town barbershop whose striped pole spun in the wind.
Everything was still the way she remembered it, she mused as Brian parked beside Ellie’s Bakery and Bike Rentals. That might be a good thing. But considering the way her day had gone so far, she doubted it.
* * *
“Lindsay!” When Brian walked her through the glass-front door, his grandmother hurried out from behind the counter to embrace her. Artfully dodging the obvious change in their visitor, she beamed at Lindsay as if she’d been waiting for her all day instead of being surprised to find her there. “It’s wonderful to see you. How have you been?”
“Good, and you?”
Gran laughed. “Oh, you know how it is around here. There’s always something interesting going on, and I just try to keep up.” She turned to Brian with an accusing look. “Why didn’t you tell me Lindsay was coming into town?”
“It was a surprise to me, too,” he answered, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I know it’s a little early for customers, but what’s the chance of us getting some lunch?”
“For my boy? A hundred percent. Since it’s so cold, I’ve got a batch of stew simmering, and I’m just pulling fresh bread out of the oven. You two sit down and I’ll bring you some.”
“I knew I smelled something amazing,” Lindsay commented while she shed her coat.
Suddenly recalling his manners, Brian took it from her and hung it on the rack near the door. Adding his own, he joined her at the table she’d chosen. As far from the front windows as she could get, he noticed. She was either keeping away from the chill near the door or trying to avoid being seen. Considering her condition, he guessed that it was probably some of both.
“I forgot how cold it gets here in the winter,” she said, rubbing her bare hands together to warm them. “Once I find myself a job, I’ll have to buy a pair of gloves.”
“You’ve got some money now,” he reminded her.
“I’ll need that to pay for a room. Assuming I can find one.”
Brian waited for the cheeky grin he remembered to tell him that she was exaggerating. When it didn’t appear, he felt a pang of sorrow for this beautiful, lost woman who’d found herself at the end of her rope and somehow landed on his doorstep. He still wasn’t sure how that had happened, but in view of their rocky history he was grateful that despite the obstacles she’d had to overcome, she’d come back to where there were people who genuinely cared about her.
And her baby, he reminded himself, still trying to adjust to the idea. He’d been on his own for years, so he was pretty good at taking care of himself. Someday he’d love to have a family, but right now the idea of assuming responsibility for anyone else scared him to death. Maybe once his business was solidly in the black, he could think about settling down. But these days, struggling to relaunch the ironworks was giving him all he could manage and more.
“How are things going up at your end of town today?” Ellie asked, ruffling his hair.
“Busy. How ’bout here?”
“Oh, you know how it is when the weather’s so nasty. Folks just want to tuck in at home and stay warm until the snow stops. They’ll be out tomorrow, I’m sure.” Her optimism lifted his own spirits, and then she turned her attention to Lindsay. “I’m so proud of this one. He’s got so many orders, he won’t have time for much else once the forge is up and running.”
She hurried back into the kitchen, and Lindsay gave him an accusing look. “I had no idea you had customers waiting for your stuff.”
If only the contracts were for more than garden gates and fireplace screens, he thought morosely. But his corporate policy was to be positive around the family to avoid worrying them, so he shrugged. “Yeah, well, I hate to brag.”
For the first time since she’d arrived, Lindsay let out an honest laugh. “Since when?”
Since he’d lost three jobs in two years through no fault of his own. He was a skilled machinist, but the shops he’d worked for had been poorly managed, and when they needed to balance the books, he was always the new guy. It had been tough on his ego, and last summer he’d finally had enough of it. Reopening a nineteenth-century business might seem far-fetched to most people, but the effort to resurrect the historic Liberty Creek Forge hadn’t just given him something to do. It had gone a long way toward restoring his battered pride.
Because teasing him had brightened her mood, he opted not to share his sob story and instead dredged up a grin. “Good point.”
After staring at each other for what felt like a little too long, they fell into an uneasy silence. Then she said, “I see Ellie’s still in town. How about the rest of your family?”
“Sam got married just before Christmas,” he replied, grateful for something else to talk about. “He and Holly live on the edge of town with her son, Chase, who’s just about the greatest kid ever. Emma teaches art at the elementary school and lives in our old house. Mom and Dad both work over in Waterford now, so they moved there a few years ago.”
“Have you been here all this time?”
“I moved around a bit, then settled in Portsmouth for a while before coming back. I wasn’t sure about it at first, but it’s really nice to be home.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” she commented as Gran approached their table carrying a loaded tray. “You never struck me as the nomad type.”
Unlike her, Brian added silently. He wondered if that would change now that she had a child to consider.
“Here you go, kids,” Gran announced, setting their lunch out for them.
He’d skipped breakfast that morning, and the aroma of her blue-ribbon cooking actually made his mouth water. He tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into the steaming crock of stew before popping it in his mouth. Registering his grandmother’s questioning look, he chuckled. “You’ve been experimenting again, haven’t you?”
“Maybe. Can you tell what’s different?”
“Delicious as usual,” he replied because quite honestly, he couldn’t detect anything beyond that.
She gave him a chiding look before turning to Lindsay, who smiled. “There’s a hint of cayenne pepper in here, right?”
Gran pressed her hands together in delight. “That’s right! I’ve had a dozen people taste this, and you’re the first one to guess my secret ingredient.”
“I didn’t think you liked spicy food,” Brian said, more than a little confused. Apparently, her pregnancy wasn’t the only thing about Lindsay Holland that was different. It made him wonder what else someone might discover if he tried hard enough to peel back some of those self-protective layers she’d wrapped herself in. Of course, it wouldn’t be him, he amended quickly. She’d burned him once, and he wasn’t about to step into range and give her the chance to do it again.
“The baby does,” she confided with a little grin. “Whenever I eat something hot, she does backflips.”
“It’s a girl?” Gran asked.
“I’m hoping so. I’d have no idea what to do with a boy.”
“You’d figure it out, just like the rest of us. Having a child is wonderful, no matter who we’re mothering.”
“Thank you for saying that. I think it’s wonderful, too, although I have to be honest. Not many people agree with me.”
Gran waved that off as if it was no concern at all. “That’s their problem. Children are a blessing straight from heaven itself, and you’ve got every reason to be happy about this one. There’s a new couple at our church who’s been trying for years to have a baby but can’t. They’ve started the adoption process because they want a family so much, but they’re finding out that it takes a long time to be approved.”
Something sparked in Lindsay’s eyes, and while she didn’t comment, Brian could see the wheels spinning in that quick mind that had always amazed him. Whatever it was, it passed as quickly as it had appeared. He still felt uneasy, because he had no clue what was going on with her.
That thought led to another, more pressing one. “Gran, Lindsay’s looking for a place to stay. Do you know of anyone who’s got a room to rent here in town?”
After thinking for a few moments, she shook her head. “But I’ve got a big house with plenty of guest rooms, Lindsay. You’re welcome to stay with me until you find something more permanent.”
“I don’t want to impose on you,” Lindsay protested.
“Please,” Gran scoffed. “The house echoes like the Grand Canyon, it’s so quiet. I’d love to have some company, even if it’s only for a little while.”
“Well, okay,” Lindsay finally agreed, adding a grateful smile that would have softened a heart made of granite. “Thank you.”
They finished the rest of their lunch in near silence, and Brian figured it was because they really had nothing left to say. More than once over the years, he’d wondered how it would be to see his blue-eyed gypsy again. Needless to say, this really wasn’t the way he’d pictured it.
* * *
She was finally warm.
After a long, difficult day, Lindsay woke up tucked into one of Ellie’s comfy guest rooms, snuggled in blissfully soft sheets beneath a pile of what were surely handmade quilts. She had an entire queen-size bed to herself, and more fluffy pillows than she knew what to do with.
It was dark outside the window, and she checked the old-fashioned alarm clock to find it was almost seven o’clock. And she was starving. Her lunch with Brian had tasted like cayenne-flavored sawdust, so she’d eaten only enough to satisfy his insistence that she should have something to eat. Turning on the bedside lamp, she found her shoes in the closet and stepped into them, only to discover that they were still soaking wet. Beside them was a worn pair of fleece-lined slippers that looked to be about her size, so she pulled them on instead. Padding across the richly colored wood floor, she eased the door open and strained her ears for a hint of the conversation going on below.
“What do you want me to do, Gran?” Brian’s unmistakable baritone demanded in a hushed tone. “This is my business we’re talking about. I’ve put everything I’ve got into it, and then some. I’ve only got one shot at making this work, and I can’t hire someone I don’t have complete faith in.”
“You need an office manager,” Ellie argued in the sensible New Englander way Lindsay recalled from her childhood, “and Lindsay just happens to be an experienced one who’s looking for a job. Do you think she’s capable of doing what you need done?”
After a long pause, he grudgingly admitted, “Probably.”
“If you’re not sure about that, you should call her last boss and ask what he thought of her. Then you can feel more confident about your choice, whatever you decide.”
“I feel sorry for Lindsay, but I’m not hiring her, end of story.” The sound of chair legs scraping across the kitchen floor reached upstairs, and she heard something in his voice she hadn’t expected: regret. “That storm’s getting worse, and the snow is piling up out there. I’ll be back in the morning to shovel the driveway and front walk for you before you go into the bakery at eight.”
“Thank you, honey. I appreciate you taking care of it. Don’t work too late tonight.”
“I won’t.”
The door opened and then closed, and then all was quiet.
Lindsay’s appetite had evaporated during the terse conversation she’d overheard, and she crept back to bed. Despite his earlier refusal to hire her, she’d sensed that he wasn’t completely convinced about it. That had left her with a tiny sliver of hope that he might change his mind, especially when she heard Ellie gently nudging him to reconsider. His comment about not being able to trust her made her more ashamed than she’d ever been, and she buried herself under the covers while tears that she’d held in for days finally escaped.
Working for Brian had been her last—and only—chance at some security for herself and her unborn child. Now that door was firmly closed, and she searched her mind for the window that the old saying insisted would be opened.
But this time, there wasn’t one.
Chapter Three (#uc198ad8e-3bc2-5d68-9cca-7fc7dc43ef46)
After a few hours of restless sleep, Brian finally gave up and decided it was time to start his day. The caretaker’s cottage next to the forge was pretty bare-bones, even for him, and he wasn’t surprised when he poked his head out from under the covers only to discover there was no heat. Again.
He was good with most machinery, but the antique oil furnace bewildered him. No matter what fix he tried, it refused to fire up without some serious coaxing. Fortunately, the small fieldstone fireplace was more reliable. Too bad he’d forgotten to bank the fire before hitting the hay last night.
Rather than waste time building another one, he settled for a steamy shower that not only warmed him up but also eased some of the lingering pain from yesterday. Every muscle in his body ached from wrestling with the archaic equipment he was trying to bring back from the dead, and he faced another long day of the same. His daunting rehab project had been going on for six months now, and sometimes he wondered if he was making any progress at all.
Pushing the doubt from his mind, he strolled into the lobby and silently thanked whoever had invented a coffee maker that could fill up his mug in less than a minute. Wrapping his cold hands around the warm ceramic, he snagged a power bar and opened one of the huge doors to the old-fashioned blacksmith shop that was the heart and soul of his family’s once-thriving business. Repairs to the building itself had taken forever, from the roof to evicting a family of chipmunks that had taken up residence in the flue of the enormous fireplace that had literally forged the existence of Liberty Creek and other small towns for miles around.
Since its opening, everything from wagon wheels to bucket hoops to cast-iron pots were produced here by Jeremiah Calhoun and his brothers, one piece at a time. Now that he was picking up the torch, Brian felt a kinship with them that gave him a tremendous sense of pride. He’d enjoyed the variety of living in other places, and when he first mentioned leaving the bustle of Portsmouth and returning to his sleepy hometown, most of his friends were convinced he’d gone and lost his mind. But as difficult as things could be for him at times, he never doubted that he’d made the right decision.
Well, almost never.
When his cell phone’s old-time telephone ringer sounded, he glanced at the screen to discover that the environmental inspector who’d been assigned to his project was calling. It was just after seven, and he suspected that the man wasn’t contacting him to share good news. Brian recalled hearing once that a smile could be heard over the phone, so he forced one onto his face before answering. “Hello, Mr. Williams. What can I do for you?”
“I’ve found a conflict with the appointment we made for the final inspection of your air scrubbing system at the end of the month. I apologize for the short notice, but there’s no way around it. I have an opening at nine on Thursday morning if you can do it then.”
Brian had installed the equipment, but the complicated job had gobbled up all of his time for more than a week. That meant the mound of paperwork that he was supposed to fill out was still sitting on his desk, blank as the day the inspector had handed it to him. “That’s the day after tomorrow, so I’m not sure. Is there another option?”
“May.”
“Really?” Brian blurted without thinking. “That’s a long time to wait.”
“There aren’t many people in the country who do what I do, so my calendar is booked solid until then. Should we schedule something in May?”
The tourists that were the lifeblood of the local economy typically started visiting in late spring, and if something went wrong with an inspection in May, Brian wouldn’t be able to fix it in time to welcome customers to his shop. That would jeopardize not only his current plans, but might also dissuade Jordan from leaving his successful artisan career and joining the company. If that happened, Brian couldn’t possibly hope to meet the high expectations of the discerning clients he wanted to reach. Without the benefit of Jordan’s contacts and expertise, Brian knew that he might as well save himself the aggravation and close the doors now.
“Thursday’s fine,” he gritted out, hoping his irritation wasn’t too obvious. “I’ll see you then.”
He hung up, then closed his eyes and held the phone against his forehead. There were days when he wondered if the crazy scheme he’d concocted was worth the overwhelming effort he was putting into it. This was one of them, and to make it worse, setbacks like this made him doubt whether it was even possible for him to bring the long-dormant shop back to life.
Lifting his head, he took in his outdated surroundings in a more critical fashion than he had so far. The tools of his trade hadn’t changed all that much over the centuries—fire and force were still the essential components of metalworking. Above the fireplace, currently out of sight, was the problematic—and very expensive—air scrubber that was the key to him being certified to operate his coal-fired forge the old-fashioned way.
Aside from that, the vast collection of hammers, snips and anvils of various shapes were all he needed to fill his customers’ orders. But none of that mattered if he didn’t pass Mr. Williams’s inspection in two days, he reminded himself grimly. A rebel at heart, following other people’s rules had never been his strong point, and recalling the intimidating stack of forms made him want to scream in frustration.
Doing something physical was usually the cure for that, and he’d promised to dig Gran out this morning, anyway. His four-by-four crawled out of its spot without a problem, and he made the quick trip across town through a gray, frigid dawn that didn’t feel very promising. When he arrived at her house, he grabbed a shovel from its spot in the old carriage house and got to work.
One shovelful at a time. In his memory, he heard Granddad’s voice telling him that when he was a little boy doing his best to help with the wintertime task. That’s how even the biggest job gets done.
Stunned by the clarity of the message and how well suited it was to his current problem, Brian stopped and rested his gloves on the handle of the shovel. Listening closely, he didn’t pick up anything other than the rumble of a nearby plow and the rustling of bare tree branches in the breeze.
Had it been his imagination? he wondered. Tired as he was, it was a definite possibility that his mind was playing tricks on him, conjuring up some reassuring words from his grandfather to help him through a crisis.
“Is everything okay?”
Startled by the sound of an actual voice, Brian whipped around to find Lindsay standing inside the open front door, head tilted while she stared at him in obvious concern. In her hands she held an oversize coffee mug, steaming in the chilly air.
“Yeah, just taking a breather. What’re you doing up so early?”
“I couldn’t sleep anymore, so I’m making breakfast for Ellie. When I heard you out here, I thought you might like something warm to drink.”
It was a thoughtful thing to do, especially considering that just a few hours ago, he’d flatly refused to hire her. The faint pang of guilt he’d been feeling grew stronger, and he began to second-guess his decision. “Thanks for thinking of it. You shouldn’t be out here, though. It’s freezing.”
That got him a wry grin. “I’m tougher than I look.”
Yeah, she was, he remembered with more fondness than he would have preferred. Her delicate appearance masked a headstrong temperament that had proven to be more than a handful in their younger days. It was good to know that her current predicament hadn’t completely shattered the spirit he’d once admired so much.
“I’ll come in and thaw out,” he said, climbing the snowy steps to join her. “I’m ready for a break, anyway.”
After shedding his ice-caked boots and coat in the entryway, he followed Lindsay into the warm, welcoming space that was his grandmother’s little kingdom. Gifted with culinary talent and a knack for inventing new dishes, Gran had fed hundreds of family and friends over the years from the bright, unassuming kitchen that was her domain.
Lindsay opened the warming drawer of the commercial oven, and the scent of fresh pancakes made Brian’s empty stomach growl. She laughed, pulling several out to set on a plate for him. “It sounds like you’re hungry.”
“Starving. Thanks.”
He slathered on butter and drowned them in syrup that had come from maple trees outside of town. He was demolishing them when his grandmother came down the creaky wooden steps and into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” she greeted him, pausing to kiss the top of his head as if he was ten years old.
“Mmmng,” he mumbled around a mouthful of pancakes.
She laughed and crossed the floor to pour hot water from the teakettle into a flowered china cup. “He sounds happy. How are you feeling this morning, Lindsay?”
“Fine, thanks.”
Brian quickly swallowed and asked, “Feeling? Were you sick yesterday?”
“Tired more than anything, I think. It comes with the territory,” she added, smoothing her hands over her plump waistline. “Growing a person is hard work.”
Brian had all he could do growing his business, and he couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult her task was. Thinking of the forge reminded him of the impending deadline he now faced, and he realized that the solution to his problem was standing in his grandmother’s kitchen, spooning batter onto the griddle.
“Lindsay?” When she turned to glance at him, he swallowed his pride with some coffee and prepared his stomach for a bitter helping of crow. “I’ve got a major problem at the ironworks.” He explained it to her, ending with, “I’m still finishing up the installation of the unit, and there’s no way I can get everything done on my own. Would you consider taking that office manager job, after all?”
“Yes.”
Her answer came without hesitation, and he could hardly believe it. He’d anticipated her yanking his chain a little, perhaps making him grovel for entertainment’s sake. She didn’t even ask him how long their arrangement would last. It told him just how desperate she was, and he felt awful for the way he’d handled things with her yesterday. He didn’t want them starting off with any illusions about the position, so he cautioned her, “I’m not sure how much work I’ll have for you after that.”
“That’s okay,” she responded brightly. “Once you see what I can do, you might decide you can’t get along without me.”
“And you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want,” Gran assured her with a smile. “I really enjoy having the company, and I can drop you off at the ironworks when I drive into the bakery.”
“That’s sweet of you, and I’d be happy to take you up on it. As a tenant.”
“Oh, posh,” Gran scoffed, waving away the offer. “That’s not necessary.”
“It is for me,” Lindsay insisted, sitting in the chair beside his grandmother. “I’m going to be a mom soon, and I need to be more responsible than I have been in the past. That means not letting people do things for me that I can do for myself.”
Gran sent him a questioning look, and he shrugged slightly. It was up to her, really, but he had to admit he was impressed by Lindsay’s insistence on paying her own way. Prompted by Jeff’s behavior, no doubt. In Brian’s opinion, it was definitely a change for the better.
The skunk may have actually done her a favor, he mused while he mopped up his syrup with the last of his pancakes. Maybe she’d needed to hit rock bottom to realize just how bad things had gotten.
Now there was no place for her to go but up. And if anyone he knew had the will to make that happen, it was Lindsay Holland.
* * *
Lindsay was in the middle of the daunting stack of paperwork when a tiny elbow poked her hard enough to snag her immediate attention. Massaging the spot, she kept moving in a circular motion until the little troublemaker inside her rolled over into a different position that was more comfortable.
For a few minutes, anyway.
She’d been feeling the baby move for weeks now, but sometimes she still marveled at those simple reminders that there was a small person growing inside of her. The jabs came at all times of the day, so they were always a surprise to her, making her wonder if the restlessness was a hint at the personality to come. And if it was, how would she cope with raising such an active child all by herself?
Her own mother hadn’t managed the task all that well, and while Lindsay recognized that she’d been a handful, she’d often felt that Mom could have tried harder to bond with her independent-minded daughter. After all, Lindsay had come by her stubbornness innocently enough, inheriting not only her mother’s looks but her headstrong attitude, as well.
It seemed disloyal to feel that way, and as she’d matured, Lindsay had come to understand that Mom had done the best she could. Too bad it hadn’t even come close to what an insecure teenage girl needed.
The baby was now resting calmly under her hand, and she smiled down to where her palm rested. “I promise to always be there for you, little one, no matter what.”
She sensed a flutter of movement, as if her child had heard the vow and was acknowledging it. It was times like these when she—as nonreligious as a person could get—honestly believed in miracles.
A motion in the doorway caught her attention, and she glanced up to find Brian leaning against the jamb, arms crossed while he gazed curiously at her. “How’s it going in here?”
“Good,” she replied, patting the growing pile of finished paperwork proudly. “I just went past halfway.”
“So it’s downhill from here, then?”
In her experience, that wasn’t how things worked. But Brian was up against a nearly impossible deadline, and she decided that there wasn’t any point in being negative about their chances of actually finishing in time. “Like a snowball picking up speed.”
Cocking his head, he grinned at her. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
Stunned that he’d seen through her attempt at levity, she blinked. Either he read her better than most people did, or she was losing her ability to smooth over difficult situations with a little well-placed deceit. Whichever was accurate, it didn’t bode well for her continuing to work with someone who’d hired her out of desperation and had no reason to keep her on once this crisis had passed.
“Don’t look so panicky,” he said in a reassuring tone as he came into the office. “I’m not judging you or anything. Since we’re gonna be working together, I was thinking it might go better if we’re straight with each other.”
Relief washed over her, and she forced a shaky smile. “Oh. Okay.”
Spinning a rickety-looking folding chair around, he crossed his arms on the back and sat facing her. “So, whatta you really think?”
“It will be tight, but I’ll get it done.” Bravado aside, she got the feeling that it was time to finally put their difficult history in the rearview. For both of them. “I know I haven’t always been trustworthy in the past, Brian, but I’m working really hard to change that.”
“Because of the baby?”
“Mostly.”
“What about for yourself?” She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, and after a few moments, he continued, “You deserve better than you’ve gotten, Lindsay. You’re smart and funny, and you’ve got a good heart. Have you ever thought about what you wanted, just for you?”
“College would’ve been nice,” she admitted shyly, hesitant to voice a wish that had proven to be too far out of reach for her. “I always wanted to— Never mind. It’s too crazy.”
That made him laugh, and she saw the humor lighting his eyes in the way she remembered so fondly.
“Look around,” he said, holding his arms out in emphasis. “I’m restoring a business to run the way it did in the 1800s. Anything you come up with won’t be half as crazy as what I’m doing here.”
His confidence and reassuring words eased her hesitance, and she decided to go for it. At the worst, he’d laugh. At the best, he’d understand how it felt to have a dream that everyone else thought was unattainable. “I’ve always wanted to be a family therapist. You know, counsel kids and their families who are having a tough time, help them learn a better way to handle things.”
“You’ve got some experience with that,” he said gently, sympathy warming the blue in his eyes to something she could almost feel from across the desk.
“Yeah, and I’ve often wondered if Mom and I would’ve done better if someone had taught us a better way of dealing with each other.”
“Life gets harder all the time, it seems,” he commented in a pensive tone. “My childhood here was awesome, but the older I get, the faster the world seems to spin. I can’t imagine how tough it is for kids these days.”
“It’s hard for grown-ups, too,” Lindsay added, hearing enthusiasm in her voice for the first time in what felt like forever. “Struggling families aren’t good for anyone, but especially for the kids involved. I really believe that a little help at the right time can make all the difference.”
“So why didn’t you pursue that? You were always a great student, and you were definitely smart enough to do well in college.”
“Money, for one.”
“There’s all kinds of scholarships out there,” he argued, as if him saying it was enough to make it happen. And for Brian, someone full of talent and self-confidence, it was probably true.
But for her, the real problem had been something she’d never been able to define. With him sitting there, urging her to seriously consider the dream she’d abandoned so long ago, she finally had to admit the truth. To herself.
“Jeff didn’t think I should do it,” she said in a meek, doormat voice that made her want to cringe. “He said we couldn’t afford to lose my salary and waste money on something that might not pan out. After a while, I guess I started to believe him.”
Brian’s jaw clenched around something he was clearly dying to say but wouldn’t because he respected her feelings. She couldn’t recall the last time anyone had kept an opinion to themselves out of concern for how it might hurt her.
It was comforting to know that—unlike so many people who’d run through her chaotic life—Brian Calhoun hadn’t changed. He still cared about her, and even though she’d blown her one chance with him, he’d make a great friend, she realized. A girl in her situation could never have too many of those.
“He was wrong,” Brian finally spat, his words heavily salted with disdain. “You can do whatever you set your mind to, Lindsay. Now that you’re away from him, I hope you’ll forget everything he ever told you and be able to focus on what’s best for you and the baby. Anything else is just noise, as far as I can see.”
“Focus,” she echoed, tilting her head while she considered his advice. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I need. What I always needed,” she admitted, shaking her head as things crystallized in her mind. “I just never found a way to get it.”
“You were too distracted, trying to get past your mom’s reputation and make people like you. Then you met Jeff, and you lost sight of everything else.”
Lost was exactly how she’d felt her entire life, she realized with a clarity so sudden it felt like a starburst in her mind. Except for when a small-town boy had reached out and offered her not only his attention but his love.
And how did she repay his generosity? She turned away from everything he represented, leaping into an uncertain future with a man who’d later stolen her ability to provide for the innocent child he’d abandoned when he left her.
When her morose thoughts receded, she realized that Brian had stood and was leaving the office.
“Brian?” When he glanced back, she swallowed hard and forced herself to do something she now knew she should have done years ago. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I never meant to.”
A brief flash of affection lit his eyes, and he gave her the crooked grin that brought to mind the way he’d looked the very first time she met him. “I know.”
With that, he left her and returned to the baffling array of equipment waiting for him out in the shop. As he went, she could faintly hear him whistling the same song he’d been listening to when she showed up at the forge yesterday. He knew it was her favorite, so she didn’t doubt that he was making the musical gesture very much on purpose.
And for the first time in ages, Lindsay allowed herself to believe that after years of wrong turns and bad decisions, things might finally be okay.
Chapter Four (#uc198ad8e-3bc2-5d68-9cca-7fc7dc43ef46)
“That’s what you’re wearing?” Lindsay demanded when she met Brian in the office the morning of their all-important inspection.
“You’ve been working for me less than a week,” he reminded her with a grin. “If you wanna critique my wardrobe, you’ve gotta stick it out for a whole year.”
He did notice, however, that she was wearing a pretty maternity dress that tied in the back and polished black shoes instead of the tired ones she’d had on yesterday. She’d confessed that she didn’t have much in the way of mom-to-be clothing, and he’d already seen the extent of it. Or so he thought.
“That’s pretty,” he complimented her as she handed him a mug of what smelled like hazelnut coffee. “Is it new?”
“To me it is.” She gave him a long, suspicious look. “Someone told your sister-in-law, Holly, that I needed maternity clothes, and she dropped off four bags of them at Ellie’s house last night.”
“I didn’t say anything, so don’t look at me like that. Must’ve been Gran.”
“Well, whoever it was, I appreciate it,” she commented, smiling as she ran a hand over a long sleeve. “This is a lot warmer than anything I had before, and Holly has excellent taste. I haven’t had anything this nice in years.”
The wistful tone did something wonky to his stomach, and Brian caught himself wishing there was something he could do to erase those bad times from her memory. Then he heard his father’s wise advice.
If you’re not the problem, you can’t be the solution.
Simple but true, those words echoed in his mind even as he worked his way back to what had started the conversation. “Speaking of nice, what’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”
“You’re meeting with the environmental inspector today, remember?”
“No, that’s on Thursday.”
Lindsay gave him a quizzical look, then shook her head with an irritating smirk. “Today is Thursday.”
“Seriously?” When she nodded, he checked his wrist, which was empty because he’d never worn a watch in his life. “Huh. How ’bout that? Guess it’s a good thing I hired you to keep me up to date on stuff like that.”
“I’d say so,” she agreed. “Now, march back over and put on your Sunday best. He’s due here at nine.”
“It’s only eight.”
“You need to crank up the heat in the shop and fire up the forge to show him that the air scrubbers are working properly. While you’re doing that, I’ll make a carafe of coffee and set these out,” she added, patting the top of a pink bakery box imprinted with Ellie’s Bakery and Bike Rentals in burgundy script. “He’s already on the road, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s hungry when he gets here.”
“Man, you think of everything,” he said as he headed for the door.
“Isn’t that why you hired me?”
Pausing, he turned and noticed the hesitant look on her face. After all she’d been through, it wasn’t a surprise to him that her confidence had taken a knock. Sure, she’d left him hanging and basically run away rather than work things out with him. It had taken him a while to get over her, but in the end, he’d accepted that things had turned out the way they were meant to be.
Until the morning she showed up at the forge, out of options and hoping for a job. He hadn’t recognized it until now, but that day had changed everything. For both of them.
He wasn’t interested in a relationship right now, especially not with someone toting around as much baggage as Lindsay Holland. Fortunately, his own personal baggage was pretty light these days. Based on their experience so far, he thought it was possible that he could be the friend she so clearly needed. “It sure is. Now that you mention cold, it’s not exactly warm in here, either. Did that space heater conk out on you?”
“No, I like it this way,” she replied in a thoughtful tone as her eyes drifted toward the mullioned window that looked out on the side yard covered in snow. “I love winter.”
He remembered that about her. How she adored ice-skating and was always game for a snowball fight or an afternoon at the community sledding hill just outside of town. The first real snowfall was her favorite, and he recalled her insisting that those snowflakes were the most delicious ones of the season because they were fresh.
“Brian?”
Dragged back to grown-up reality, he met her stare with what he hoped came across as casual interest. “Yeah?”
In answer, she tapped the antique watch on her wrist. Brian recognized it immediately, and an emotion he didn’t recognize flooded his chest. “You still have that?”
“Of course, I do,” she replied with a shadow of the beautiful smile he still remembered. “The antique show we went to on my birthday that year was one of the best afternoons of my whole life. No one had ever gone to so much trouble to make sure I had a good time. That you bought me such a gorgeous present was just icing on the cake.”
“I just thought that since you were so strapped for cash, you would’ve sold it by now.”
“Not a chance,” she assured him, tilting her chin in a defiant gesture that hinted at the spirit that had once enchanted and aggravated him. “I sold off everything I had, which wasn’t much, but I’d never give this up. It’s really special, because you gave it to me without expecting anything from me in return.”
Knowing that the watch he’d given her was the only jewelry she still owned emphasized the sobering fact that if he failed this environmental inspection and his business faltered, this vulnerable woman and her child would be in major trouble. Prodded into action, he hurried back to his house to change.
He really had to get a grip where Lindsay was concerned, he warned himself while he shrugged on his nicest shirt and quickly did the buttons. If he wasn’t careful, the blue-eyed gypsy who’d broken his heart all those years ago was going to get under his skin and cause him all kinds of problems.
Again.
Shrugging away the past, he went through the side door of the forge and cranked the old heating furnace to full power. Then he snapped on all the lights and scaled the narrow metal steps that led to the catwalk running along the west end of the shop to ensure that everything was in place. The crucial piece of equipment that would—hopefully—allow him to operate his dinosaur of a forge in the modern world was as he’d left it early this morning. From its size and basic-looking construction, you’d never have guessed that the metal box and the pipes leading to it were going to make or break the future of his business.
Pass the inspection, it was full-steam ahead. Fail...
He wasn’t going to think about that, he decided firmly, batting the very real possibility aside. He was taking his shot at the moon, and fly or crash, he knew he’d done everything in his power to make it work. Well, almost.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/mia-ross/the-bachelor-s-baby/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.