Penelope (18 page)

She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back in her chair again. She could feel the heat in her cheeks and her heart had kicked up its pace.

Both Vivian and Amelia stared at her and then both began to laugh.

“That’s the grandmother of your baby you know,” Vivian reminded her with humor still lit in her voice.

“Oh no she’s not. There is nothing that says I have to share my baby with that woman. And I won’t. This is my baby. Mine! I’d bet Brock’s mother wouldn’t treat my baby like that and she’ll be a good grandmother.”

Both sets of eyes that stared at her grew wider and both women inched over the table at her.

“What did you say?” Amelia was smiling as she asked.

Penelope had to think about what she’d said. Then she realized she’d all but married Brock in one sentence.

“Oh,” she sighed and rested her hands on her stomach. “I just meant…”

Vivian and Amelia exchanged glances.

Vivian looked out the window to where Brock played Ring Around the Rosie with the girls in the yard. “I don’t think you could do better.”

“I didn’t mean what I said. I mean I like him. I really do. And he’s nice. And he likes me. But I’m pregnant with another man’s baby. My baby. My husband’s baby.”

Now her thoughts were coming as quickly as her heart was beating.

Amelia reached for her hand and covered it with hers.

“You were never married, remember?”

“So I just have some bastard baby?” The words came out inflicted with as much insult as she felt they’d been said with.

“No. That’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying that your
husband
isn’t coming back. There isn’t any reason you can’t move on.”

“Out of respect,” she snapped out.

Amelia smiled. “I’ve seen you two together and Vivian says she’s seen you kiss him a few times.”

“Sure but that doesn’t make a life.”

Again, Vivian and Amelia exchanged glances and smiled.

“You never know,” Amelia said. “Maybe it will.”

That didn’t even make sense to her. Why did they even care? She would expect them to think she was some kind of hussy kissing a man while she was pregnant with another man’s baby.

Vivian put the letters she’d taken out back in the box. And just as quickly as she’d gone from crying to laughter she looked sad again as she looked up at Amelia.

“He’d asked me for a divorce before Ava was born,” she confessed looking back down at the letters.

“He did?”

“He accused me of having an affair and he didn’t think Ava was even his.”

Penelope covered her mouth when a gasp escaped.

Vivian shrugged. “After finding out your own mother had an affair and a baby, wouldn’t it cross your mind? And obviously he never got any of my letters and I never got any of his. It would look odd that your wife never communicated with you and then she was pregnant.”

“Why didn’t he get your letters though? And why didn’t he say something? I mean obviously you two were together a few times. That doesn’t make sense.”

Vivian let out a long breath. “After he left his mother gave me his
new
address.”

Amelia shook her head. “As in she gave you the wrong address.”

Vivian nodded. “It doesn’t match the return on these.” She sighed as she rubbed the envelope between her fingers. “I guess my girls were meant to be in this world, because he’d come home and we’d be in such a heat…” She trailed off and her cheeks grew pink. “A few days in, he’d want to know why the house was falling apart and what was he throwing his money away on. Of course that didn’t make sense to me, so we’d fight.”

Amelia leaned in toward her. “He never hurt you did he?”

Vivian’s head popped up. “Of course not. Why would you say that?”

Amelia sat back. “Because I’ve seen it and that’s why I trained those women. These men are sent away and moved around and you have to figure they don’t know what’s going on in their own lives. It builds up.”

Penelope rubbed her stomach. “I guess his outlet was to move on,” her voice dripped in sadness.

Vivian put the lid on the box. “It’s over. There is nothing I can do. I can’t even apologize or make things right. He’s gone,” Her voice quivered. “He did tell me about you.” She looked toward Amelia.

“Me?”

“After he asked for a divorce and I didn’t obviously give him one, he said he’d met someone.”

“And when I found out about you, I asked him for a divorce.”

Penelope scooted to the edge of her chair. “So he really
wasn’t
marrying more women?”

“He was. There were no divorce papers between any of us, and there was an enormous lack of marriage licenses too.”

Amelia nodded as she thought about what was being said. “So it happened—exactly like you said it would. You opened the letters and now we don’t hate him like we thought we would.”

The three of them were quiet. Penelope wasn’t sure she ever had hated him. But what she knew was she’d never even known him. The baby she carried was from a perfect stranger.

She looked out into the yard where Brock chased the girls around and they laughed. What harm would it be to give her baby another father then? Would Brock Romero want to take on something like that? Was he the right man?

It was true she knew him better than she’d known Adam.

Did he feel the same way about her as she did about him?

Maybe she would ask him what he thought about it. After all, they weren’t starting out
normally
as it was. Maybe they could grow from a family into a couple. It was obvious to her that stranger things had happened to people she knew.

After Penelope, Amelia, and Vivian had gone through the letters it hadn’t left much time for a nice dinner since Penelope was obviously so tired.

“I should get you home,” Brock remarked as Penelope yawned again.

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t think of one reason you should be. You spend all day working on that house and you’re growing a person. So you yawn during my dinner. Not something to be sorry about.”

By the widening of her eyes he realized he might have snapped that out a bit harder than he’d meant to. But he wasn’t one to go for the overly apologetic woman. To her credit she’d been through a lot, but he wasn’t going to have her be sorry for being pregnant and being tired.

Penelope fidgeted with her napkin. “I’ve been more tired lately.”

“The baby is growing at nearly double the rate daily.”

“Did your sister do this?”

Now he smiled. Who’d ever have thought he’d be the one dishing out pregnancy advice? “Yes. So imagine that she did this three times. I can’t even imagine how she made it through the third time with two small kids running around.”

“That makes me tired just thinking about it.”

Brock reached his hand across the table and captured hers. “My mom was right there to help out. And of course she has a very attentive husband too. She made it because she had a support system.”

He could see it in her eyes that she didn’t have that and he wanted to make sure she understood that she did.

“You have Amelia and Vivian. And Sam,” he added with a quick thought.

She raised her head and nodded. “I still can’t believe I have them. They really should hate me and have turned me away.”

Brock shook his head because he didn’t believe that for one moment. “They are some classy ladies and one upstanding man.” When she only nodded again he let go of her hand and set his napkin on the table. He scooted out of the booth and walked to her side of the table to sit by her. He pushed the plates back and put an arm around her shoulders while taking her hand with his.

Her blonde curls hung to her shoulders and gave her a soft angelic look as she gazed at him with those blue eyes that haunted him in his sleep. “You also have me. Don’t forget that.”

She finally looked up at him and locked those blue eyes on his. “I’ve been thinking about that. Did you decide to stay here in Parson’s Gulch because of me?”

She got it, he thought and he rested his forehead against hers. “Yes.”

“Because you owe me?”

Brock closed his eyes and left his head pressed to hers. “No, because I began to fall in love with you.”

Penelope pulled back and Brock raised his head to look at her. Shock would best describe the look on her face. Her eyes had opened wide and her lips had parted into an “Oh.”

She processed it. “I guess that would be the best way to say it. It certainly gets your point across. You wouldn’t have just made this decision if you felt obligated or…”

“Don’t analyze it. And don’t go shooting yourself down either. You’re as worthy of being loved as Amelia is. And Sam loves her.”

“She’s not pregnant.”

“And you are.”

“That really shouldn’t be a bonus point for a man.”

“Maybe most men are stupid,” he explained as he lifted his hand into her hair. “Give me a chance. Let me love you and the baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

He could feel her begin to shake. How could she not have expected him to feel like this? He thought he’d been pretty obvious.

“What will your family say?”

“I guess we should find out.”

“You can’t just take home a girl who’s carrying someone else’s baby.”

“Of course I can. And it’s not like you’re just some girl. And it’s not just some man’s baby. You’re carrying your husband’s baby—your husband who happened to save my damn life. Without him I wouldn’t be here and I’m very grateful that I’m here and I’m sitting here with you.”

That seemed to stop the argument she wanted to have with him. Good. He didn’t want to argue with her. Situations weren’t always cookie cutter. It wasn’t always meet, date, fall in love, marry, and have kids. Sometimes things started for a couple in different ways.

“My family would like to meet you. Would you like to meet them?”

Her eyes were wide, but she nodded and that was a very good sign.

Brock moved in and pressed his lips to hers. “Good. They want to meet you too.” He rested his forehead to hers again.

“Will you come home with me tonight? Stay with me,” she offered softly.

Had he willed it so hard that she felt it burning inside of him, this need to hold her all night long?

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I don’t mean anything sexual by it, I…”

“I didn’t assume you did.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and pulled back. “If I stay, can I hold you all night?”

Penelope went soft against him and rested her head on his shoulder. “That’s exactly what I wanted.”

The text message to Vivian telling her that Penelope had decided to stay in her own place tonight was responded with,
Be careful. Don’t do anything you don’t want to. Call me. I’m here if you need me.

Penelope tucked her phone back into her purse as Brock pulled up in front of the house.

Illumination from the light on the front gave the house a welcoming glow. She was home, her home now. There was a warm joy that filled her when she considered that.

She liked thinking that she belonged somewhere and as she watched Brock turn off the car she realized it was nice to belong to people too.

It was a different feeling than when she “belonged” to her mother. Now she had people who cared for her, more than shelter and food. She had a family who wanted only the best for her—and her baby. And this man, this fall from the sky kind of blessing of a man, was falling in love with her and she’d certainly not given him any reason to. She’d reconsidered everything he mentioned to her. She contradicted all of his thoughts. But he was proof. There were decent men out there.

As he opened his door she caught his arm. “Did you mean what you said back at the restaurant? You don’t feel obligated to be here, but you’re here because…” she trailed off.

“Because I was falling in love with you?”

Penelope nodded. At least he’d said it a few times.

Brock turned toward her, the glow of a streetlight filling the cab with shadows and warmth.

“Yes. I mean that.”

“Do you think when the baby gets here you’ll feel the same way?”

He let out a breath and climbed out of the car.

Well, that wasn’t what she thought would happen. She figured he’d put up an argument. They seemed to be good at that. She just wanted to know…

The door opened to her side and there he was turning her toward him. He took her hands and pulled her from the car, adjusting her slightly to press her back to the cold metal once her feet hit the ground.

His mouth came to hers in such a fevered rush that she reached for his shoulders just to hold herself up. Brock’s tongue sought out hers in a fire, his fingers tangled in her hair, and his body pressed against hers—firmly but cautiously.

Penelope’s fingers dug into the cloth of his shirt as he continued to kiss away any doubt that had built in her mind.