A Bramble House Christmas (Carrigans of the Circle C Book 6) (12 page)

“How would that work, exactly?”

“You’d need to get a kit—you can order them online. Then you and Eliza send in saliva swabs. The lab would come back with a kinship index. The higher the value of the index, the greater the likelihood the two of you are cousins.”

“Interesting. Thanks Keelin. I might just do that.”

But how was he going to convince Eliza to give him a sample of her saliva?

F
inn had just returned from his walk and grabbed himself a cup of coffee, when Willa entered the breakfast room wearing an ivory sweater that flattered her coloring and blue jeans that made the most of her slender legs. With her long hair swept up in a messy ponytail, she looked carefree and...hot.

He lowered his gaze quickly. He’d presented himself to her under false pretenses, he had no right to feel this way. And the situation had only become more complicated after what he’d learned last night.

Safer to focus his good mornings on her son, who battered him with a series of questions about the
Everyday Sam
books that were squarely in Finn’s comfort zone.

A few times he sensed Willa’s puzzled gaze on him, and knew she was wondering why he was giving her the cold shoulder.

He didn’t blame her. Most of the time he was with her he forgot she was the woman who’d taken advantage of his sick father. Then, when he did remember, he felt like a jerk for not telling her who he really was. This was so not playing out the way he’d imagined it.

Finally through with breakfast, and once everyone had gone their separate ways, Finn asked Eliza if he could talk to her privately. “I finished your book last night. I thought it was a fascinating read.”

Her face brightened. “Seriously? I hoped my family would like it, but I wasn’t sure if it would be something other people would enjoy.”

“Well, that’s the thing, Eliza. I was intrigued by a footnote in your chapter about Steven Bramble.”

She set down her tray of dirty dishes and gave him her full attention. “You’re talking about the alleged affair Steven had before he was married?”

“Yes. And the baby...” Since his call with Keelin he’d been struggling with the right way to put his idea to Eliza. But the situation was so awkward, all he could do was plunge on and hope for the best. “This is going to sound weird, but I’m wondering if that baby might have been my father.”

For a long moment Eliza stared at him. “What makes you think that?”

He’d already decided he couldn’t tell her that his father had been the patient who had given Willa her ring. “It was sort of a family secret that my grandmother had my father out of wedlock. My dad never even knew his father. Then recently, right before he died, my father started talking about Marietta. I know it’s a stretch. But...I hoped you might help me prove whether my hunch is right or not.”

Eliza didn’t look convinced. “Is that all you have to go on? Because it seems pretty tenuous to me. Do you even know if your grandmother spent time in Marietta when she was a young woman?”

“No. But once when our family was planning a trip to Yellowstone she said neither hell nor high water would ever get her to step foot in Montana again. We all assumed something painful must have happened to her, but she never told us what it was.”

“Montana’s the fourth biggest state in the country. That’s hardly a compelling clue.”

“I know.” Finn wished he could tell her about the ring. But until he told Willa the truth—and he had no idea how or when he would do that—he just couldn’t.

“I would dearly love to get to the bottom of that rumor about Steven Bramble,” Eliza said longingly. “But this is just more speculation.”

Here was his chance. “You and I could do a DNA test to find out if we’re related.”

“A DNA test could tell us that?”

Finn relayed the information his sister had shared over the phone. “I could order a kit today,” he concluded. “We’d probably have the results back by Christmas.”

“It’s such a long shot. Is there any point?”

“Maybe not. But it’s not as if it would hurt, either. I’m willing to cover the cost of the test.”

“In that case, sure, I’ll go along with it.” She looked at him thoughtfully. “If by some chance we
are
related, it would make a great addition to my book.”

S
omething strange was going on with Finn. After several days of hanging out together, for at least a few hours each day, he suddenly withdrew. Willa wracked her brain trying to figure out what went wrong, but all she could think was that she’d read his interest in her all wrong. Tears welled at the thought. Even during breakfast he rarely spoke to her, though he cheerfully answered Scout’s endless questions about Everyday Sam.

Finn spoke very little to any of the adults, actually. A few times Willa caught him staring at both Mable and Eliza with an intensity that seemed excessive and inexplicable.

Once, when he noticed her watching, his face flushed as if he felt guilty.

Clearly he had his mind on more than just illustrating his next picture book. But she had no idea what had him so captivated. It sure wasn’t her. She’d obviously imagined those romantic moments between them.

Turned out the only one attracted was her.

And every day she felt the pull toward him more strongly.

She’d find herself staring at his hands, his long elegant fingers. Or at the broad expanse of his shoulders beneath the fine wool sweaters he liked to wear. Most captivating of all was the way his mouth curved so winningly when he smiled.

Something he wasn’t doing as often, lately.

About a half hour after breakfast Willa would see him leave the B&B with his camera, presumably to shoot more pictures for his book.

Pictures that obviously didn’t require a little boy in them.

That must have been the reason he’d befriended them those first few days. To get the photos of Scout as a stand-in for Everyday Sam. Willa was glad for her son. He was thrilled and when the new book came out he was going to be over the moon telling his schoolmates how he’d posed for the pictures in the book.

But for herself, she was crushed. Which was silly. She’d only known him a short time. His abrupt cold shoulder shouldn’t matter so much.

Thankfully she had distractions. She and Sage were developing a real friendship, helped along by the fact that Savannah and Scout really seemed to enjoy playing together. A few times their play dates extended into dinner invitations that included Willa.

Being invited into Sage and Dawson’s world was amazing for Willa. Her parents were kind and caring with one another. But Sage and Dawson loved to tease and flirt. There was so much laughter in their house.

Willa especially admired their approach with their children. They were both loving and responsible. But they were so relaxed, as well.

In the far distant past Willa could remember a time when she, too, had been that sort of parent. And Jeff may not have been the most practical father, but at least when he was around their home had been filled with music. He would bring his guitar into the kitchen and play while she cooked. And times when Scout was crabby, Jeff could usually make him smile by singing silly songs.

She had to try harder to be that person again. The mother she had been before the cancer. Watching Sage she began to believe it was possible.

And then, about ten days after they’d arrived in Marietta, Scout woke up with a sore throat and a running nose.

“I’m afraid you caught a cold,” she told him, after checking his temperature and finding it normal. She tried to sound like this was no big deal, but inside she was panicking.

Perhaps it was just a cold now. But what if it developed into something worse...bronchitis or pneumonia? They were so far from Scout’s pediatrician. Yes, he’d given her a recommendation for someone in Bozeman, but that was such a long drive away.

Maybe she should book tickets home now, before Scout got too sick to travel.

Just in case.

Willa shut herself in the bathroom and stared at her reflection.
You’re crazy. Don’t overreact.
But no matter what she told herself, tension seeped into every cell in her body, and a dark, impending doom pervaded the very air she breathed. It was a feeling she’d lived with for years...

She splashed water on her face, then took a deep breath and went out to take her son downstairs for breakfast.

They were the last to arrive in the sunny dining room. Mable Bramble was at her usual chair, sipping tea from her fine bone china cup. Next to her was Finn, looking incredibly appealing in a dark gray sweater the same color as his eyes. Marshall and Eliza had been waiting for them before serving the waffles and sausages they’d prepared for that morning’s feast.

Scout pumped his arm. “Waffles!”

Then, abruptly, he sneezed. Willa leaned over him with a tissue. “I’m sorry,” she apologized to the others. “Scout isn’t feeling well today. Maybe we should have our breakfasts in our room so we don’t risk infecting anyone”

“It’s just a cold,” Mable said. “Don’t be silly.”

“It’s fine,” Eliza added her assurance. “Two weeks ago we all came down with head colds. Scout probably picked up the same bug. I think the virus is making its rounds.”

Since Scout was already pouring maple syrup on the waffle Marshall had just given him, Willa decided to give in and stay for the meal. After she’d settled into her chair, she noticed Finn looking her way. She gave him a smile, and after a brief delay, he smiled back.

Conversation focused on a new dump of snow that had fallen during the night.

“Should be great skiing up in the mountains,” Marshall said to Finn. “Want to rent some equipment and check it out?”

“I might just do that.”

“We can head to the shop after breakfast and I’ll get you outfitted. If you want something that can charge just as hard on powder days as on hard-pack I’ve got a great suggestion for you.”

“Awesome. I’d like to see that.”

Scout took in the conversation with interest. “Can we go skiing today, too, Mom?”

Willa paused for a moment, noting that Finn did not jump in to invite them to join him. Not that she wanted him to. She was definitely not ready to send her six-year-old son careening down a bona fide mountain, even if he wasn’t sick. “Since you have a cold we should plan an indoor activity. Want to see a movie?”

Scout’s face fell. “Nah. Can we phone Savannah? Maybe she’ll go sledding with me.”

Even as he spoke, his nose was running. Willa reached over with another tissue. “Sledding is not an indoor activity young man.”

He sighed, then picked up his fork and resumed eating.

Willa monitored every bite he took. She was relieved when he put away most of two waffles, a sausage and a glass of orange juice. The fact that his appetite was normal had to be a good sign. He did look a little pale, though, and his nose just wouldn’t stop running.

The fifth time she reached over to him with a tissue, he scowled at her.

“Mom...”

“Stop fussing over the child,” Mable said. “He has a common cold, not the black plague.”

Willa flinched at the sharp comment, and Eliza was clearly not impressed either.

“Aunt Mable, please.”

“Please what? Refrain from stating my opinions in my own home? I simply don’t understand why today’s parents must constantly dote and fuss over their children.”

Mable folded her napkin and placed it beside her plate. “Excuse me. I’d like to take my tea to the library now, Eliza.”

After the elderly woman made her regal exit, Eliza reached over to touch Willa’s hand. “I apologize for my aunt. She can be quite...caustic.”

“It’s fine.” Willa put on a smile hoping to smooth over the moment, even though it did hurt to have her mothering criticized so openly.

“Thank you for being so understanding.” Eliza sighed, then pushed away from the table. “I’d better put together her tea tray before she gets really crabby.”

“Funny how the people who don’t have kids often have the most advice on how to raise them,” Marshall observed, as he, too, rose from the table and began clearing the dishes.

“Those who can’t do, teach,” Finn agreed.