Angel's Rest (19 page)

They sat in silence then for a long moment. Gabe tried to think the situation through, but he was having trouble thinking at all. A baby. She was having a baby! Finally, he asked, “What do you want from me, Nicole?”

“Only what you’re willing to give. Freely and without rancor. It’s important to me. I was illegitimate, and my father didn’t want me and he made sure I knew it. I won’t expose my child to similar hurt.”

“Wait a minute,” he protested, annoyed at the implication. “I would never be cruel to a kid.”

“I’m not saying you would be. It’s just, well, children are easily disappointed. Their hearts are fragile and easy to break.”

She sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled in a rush. “Look, Gabe, I’d like you to be part of this baby’s life, but if you choose otherwise, that’s okay. I don’t need you. But I do need you to make a choice and stick to it. I know from my own experience and watching Sarah raise her daughter that it’s better for the child if no ambiguity exists. Unless you can commit to being a real father to our baby, she’s better off without you. We’ll get by just fine. I don’t want you to feel trapped.”

Our baby
. He rubbed the back of his neck and grimaced. “I don’t know what I feel, to be honest.”
Other than scared
. “One thing I can tell you now, though, is that you need not worry about money. I’ll take care of you in that respect.”

She nodded. “Thank you. I admit that eases my mind. I was a little worried about how we’d make it financially when you disappeared on me. I figured that if I had the chance to tell you about the baby, you’d come through
in that respect. I always knew you were a good guy, Callahan.”

“I’m an idiot. I got drunk, had unprotected sex, and got caught.”

“Gee, thanks.”

Again he winced. “Hey, that’s not a dig at you. You got caught, too.”

“True. I don’t even have alcohol for an excuse. I let emotions carry me away. You’d think a woman my age would know better.”

“It was Christmas Eve. It’s an emotional time for everyone. I was mourning my family. You walked in and …” He shrugged.

After that, neither of them spoke. The moment drew out.

Eventually she picked up a knife and resumed decorating her cookies. Though outwardly calm, telltale little signs betrayed her emotional turmoil—the slight tremble of her fingers as she moved cooled cookies ready for decorating onto wax paper, a deepening of the little worry line between her brows, the nervous tap of her foot.

Gabe watched Nic and thought of Jennifer, mourned Jennifer. The night she’d announced her pregnancy, he’d been over the moon. They’d both been thrilled. They’d celebrated with sparkling water and chocolate ice cream, then they’d gone to bed and made love. That’s the way it was supposed to be. Not like this.

He swallowed a lump the size of a baseball in his throat and watched Nic spread white icing across the surface of cooled, heart-shaped cookies with hands that trembled. Unexpectedly, a little wave of compassion lapped at his heart. This was her first pregnancy. Her first baby. She must have had some tense weeks. What had she thought when she realized she’d conceived and the father didn’t answer his phone?

His gaze settled on her stomach. A baby. Their baby.
His
baby.

No. Matt is my baby. Sweet little Matt, who loved to growl like Cookie Monster
.

The memory hit like a sucker punch to his gut. He had to get out of here. Had to get away. Grief forced out his deepest feelings in words just above a whisper. “No. I can’t, Nic. I’m sorry, but I can’t be part of this baby’s life. You deserve better and so does this child, but I can’t do it. Not again. I buried a child. I can’t do this again. I won’t do this again. I don’t want another child.”

With that, there was nothing more to say. He rose and fled like the low-down, yellow-bellied coward that he was.

Two days later, on the evening of February 14, light reflected off a seventies-era mirror ball hung from a rafter on thirty-pound-test fishing line in the center of Eternity Springs Community School gym. Crepe-paper streamers swagged the bleachers, and pink and white helium-filled balloons rose from the backs of folding chairs set at round tables covered with white cloths. Candles floating in clear glass bowls served as centerpieces. Music selected by the disc jockey, Reverend Hart, ran the gamut from Sinatra tunes to country and western to hip-hop and the bunny hop.

Nic stood behind the refreshment table dipping pink punch into paper cups. She poured herself a cup of punch and tossed it back as if it were whiskey. She
so
didn’t want to be here.

Sarah sidled up beside Nic and said, “Am I glad you made cookies for us, Nic. The cakes are almost gone.”

“If you weren’t a master at baking, your treats would last longer.”

“Thank goodness we have yours, then. They’ll last.”

“Bite me.”

Sarah laughed and gazed around the gym, her violet eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Doesn’t everything look pretty tonight? The mirror ball is inspired. The kids love it.”

“Where did it come from?”

“Bear brought it by.”

“Bear?” Nic shook her head. “You’re kidding. Where did Bear get a mirror ball?”

“I don’t know. Even more curious is where he keeps it. He lives in a yurt.”

Nic pictured a year-round universal recreation tent with its circular wooden platform, lattice framework, and conical roof covered with heavy wind- and waterproof canvas. “If his yurt has a mirror ball, I want to see it.”

As Nic and Sarah shared a grin, Reverend Hart introduced Maurice Chevalier singing “Thank Heaven for Little Girls” and the dance floor swelled with daddies and daughters. Nic watched Alton Davis lift his five-year-old into his arms and twirl her around, and from out of nowhere, emotion hit her like a truck. She closed her eyes and fought back tears.

“Nic?” Sarah touched her arm, concern clouding her eyes. “What is it? Are you okay?”

“Sure. I’m fine.” She tried to smile, but her lips began to tremble and she finally gave up. A tear spilled from her eyes and trailed down her cheek. She grabbed a napkin off the refreshment table, wiped it away, and began to babble the disjointed thoughts that spun through her mind. “You’ve done such a great job. I can do it, too. I love my mom. Truly, I do. I just never wanted to be like her. At least I won’t have to worry about the cost of braces.”

Sarah frowned. “I saw you drinking punch. Someone must have slipped past you and spiked it. You’re talking nonsense.”

“I’m not drinking spiked punch,” she replied, a hint of hysteria in her voice. “I can’t. I’m pregnant.”

As her friend’s jaw dropped in shock, Nic fled, pushing past Sarah and heading for the gymnasium doors. Out in the hallway, she spied a group of people congregated
in front of the building’s exit, so she turned in the other direction and walked toward the classrooms.

Eternity Springs Community School served grades K–12 and currently had a student body of 102. The building was new, less than five years old, with three separate wings that housed younger grades, middle grades, and high school, each wing connected to the gymnasium. Nic had fled into the high school wing.

She turned a corner so that she wasn’t visible from the gym doors, stopped, and put her back against the wall. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth, trying to find her composure and will away the tears. She’d held it together after Gabe left and all day yesterday, but now it appeared that her composure had evaporated. She hung on the brink of a full-fledged meltdown.

“Here she is, Sarah,” she heard Sage say.

Of course they’d followed her. Sarah, Sage, and Celeste rounded the corner, looking worried. Well, good. Maybe they could talk her down off this ledge. “Approach at your own risk,” she warned them. “I’m borderline crazy at the moment.”

Celeste said, “In that case, I suggest we find a more private place to talk. Sarah? You know the school, do you not? Where can we go?”

“Right here.” Sarah nodded at the nearest door as she dug in her pocket and pulled out a large ring full of keys. She searched their labels, saying, “It’s the chem lab.”

“Why do you have keys to the chemistry lab?” Sage asked as Sarah fitted a key into the lock.

“I’m here so much doing such a variety of volunteer work that the principal figured it was more efficient just to give me a set of keys.” She opened the door and flipped the light switch.

Sage took hold of Nic’s arm and pulled her into the classroom, then froze. “Oh, my. This is frightening.”

Celeste clicked her tongue. “I’m glad I didn’t wander into this room alone.”

The note of alarm in her friends’ voices distracted Nic and made her smile. “This is part of the local wildlife collection Bear donated to the school. He’s a taxidermist.”

Celeste made a slow visual survey of the room. “Why do they keep the animals in the chemistry lab? Why not the biology lab?”

“They do keep them there,” Sarah explained. “This is the overflow.”

“Bear is one interesting man,” Sage observed, approaching the stuffed bear standing on its haunches.

“Yes,” Sarah agreed. “But I’m more interested in a polecat. Nic? You ready to talk?”

“Yes. No.” She grimaced. “I think I need to sit down.”

“Of course, dear.” Celeste took Nic’s arm and guided her over to a table with four chairs. “Can I get you some water?”

“No, thank you.”

Sage took the chair next to Nic, saying, “I’m gonna sit here where I can keep an eye on that bear.”

Nic recognized Sage’s comment as an attempt to lighten the mood and she appreciated the effort. Celeste sat catercorner to Nic, and Sarah took the opposite seat. She reached out, took Nic’s hand, and said, “Talk to us.”

“I’m gonna have a baby.”

“Gabe’s?” When Nic nodded, Sarah gave her hand a squeeze. “I didn’t know you were seeing him.”

“I wouldn’t call it ‘seeing.’ It was a onetime thing.”

As Sarah and Sage shared a look, the story poured out. Her friends, being her friends, punctuated the tale with comments throughout.

“I could tell he had his eyes on you.”

“You liked him from the first.”

“Christmas is tough under normal circumstances.”

“In the foyer!”

“I’ll bet you were worried, not knowing how to reach him after he left.”

“Dodging your calls? What a jerk!”

“My blood pressure pills? Oh, dear.”

Then, finally, all three of her friends spoke at once. “He said no?”

“That’s right. He doesn’t want to be part of my baby’s life.”

Sarah’s eyes flashed. “That sorry skunk. I thought better of him than that.”

Nic tugged a tissue from the box Celeste offered to her and dabbed at an escaped tear. “It’ll be okay. We will be okay.” After a moment’s hesitation, she asked, “Won’t we?”

“Absolutely,” Sarah declared. “And I ought to know because I speak from experience. I won’t lie and say it’s not a struggle being a single parent, but you’re a strong woman, Nicole Sullivan. You’ll do just fine.”

“If that’s how it shakes out,” Sage said. She drummed her fingers against the table. “I think he’ll come around.”

“He said—”

“I don’t care what he said.” Celeste gave the surface of the lab table a little slap. “The news was undoubtedly a shock to him. I agree with Sage. Don’t give up on him yet.”

“I don’t know. He seemed pretty certain.”

Celeste dismissed her argument with a wave. “You caught him off guard. Be fair to the man. I am certain he simply needed a little time to process the information. Gabe is a good man. Once he’s had time to think it through, he will do the right thing.”

Turning to Sarah and Sage, she continued, “Now, that
puts us under the gun if we are going to make Nic’s wedding the thing of her dreams. Nic, you attend St. Stephen’s, don’t you? Such a lovely old church. I can see the altar decked out with wedding flowers now.”

“Whoa. Stop.” Nic shook her head. “Wait just one minute. No one said anything about a wedding.”

“Do you want your child to be illegitimate?”

“No, but it won’t be the end of the world. This isn’t the 1950s, you know.”

“Or Regency England,” Sarah added. “He’s not going to lose out on a title or a fortune.”

Sage sighed heavily. “Reading those historical romances again, aren’t you, Sarah?”

Nic rubbed her eyes. “Mostly I don’t want my baby to be hurt. If Gabe can’t be in our lives all the way, then we’re better off if he’s not in them at all. Rejection by one’s father is a cruel burden to bear. I won’t have this child feel unwanted and unloved.”

“I understand your caution,” Celeste said, reaching out and patting Nic’s hand. “I just think you’re a bit premature. Gabe Callahan is not your father. He has a good and loving heart, but it’s been damaged. It’s still healing. And you know what the best medicine for a wounded heart is, don’t you?”

When Nic didn’t respond, Sage answered, “Love.”

Celeste nodded. “Allow yourself to love him, Nicole. That’s one of the greatest gifts a mother can give to her child, you know. To love her child’s father. I firmly believe that once Gabe’s heart heals, he’ll discover that you and your child already have a place there.”