Fletcher's Baby!. Anne McAllister

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Fletcher's Baby! - Anne  McAllister


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Everything will be fine. I’ll get things sorted out.”

      Cletus looked stern. “Damn right you will.”

      “I’m sure you’ll do the right thing.” Benjamin gave Cletus a satisfied nod.

      Sam was glad someone had faith in him. “Of course I will,” he said stoutly. He looked at Clews to see how he’d taken Benjamin’s support. The glance netted him an uncompromisingly steely stare.

      “We’re counting on you,” Cletus said at last. What the hell was going on here? Did they think he was going to sell the place out from under them?

      “I’ll see that you’re both taken care of,” he promised.

      “Tain’t us we’re worried about,” Cletus said. “It’s Josie.”

      “I’ll take care of Josie,” Sam promised.

      It was apparently the right thing to say. Both men beamed.

      “Knew it,” Benjamin said.

      “Good lad,” Cletus agreed, and clapped him on the back.

      Sam allowed himself a moment to bask in their approval, then asked, “Where is she?”

      “In the kitchen. She didn’t say you were comin’.”

      Sam shifted from one foot to the other. “I didn’t call.” And he wasn’t explaining why. But there was one thing he wanted to know before he saw her. “Is...she married?”

      Benjamin stared at him. “Married?”

      Cletus took off his spectacles and wiped them. Then, setting them back on his nose, he looked squarely at Sam. “Not yet.”

      Sam sighed. He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. He’d never had much appreciation for Kurt’s finer qualities. He might be God’s gift to deep thinkers everywhere, but he seemed entirely too cavalier about the woman he loved for Sam’s taste.

      “I’ll go talk to her now.” He started around the house toward the back door.

      He could have gone to the front, but that would have meant ringing the bell and waiting for Josie to let him in. It would have meant she could see him before she opened the double leaded glass doors. The advantage would have been hers.

      He wanted the advantage to be his.

      He saw her through the kitchen window. There was a long island counter just inside the door and she was behind it, arranging flowers. Josie was tall, a good four inches taller than Izzy, with long, lush brown hair that had always glinted red in the sun. Sam remembered wanting to run his fingers through her hair from the first day he’d met her when she was barely more than a child. He’d always restrained himself until—

      He jammed his hands in his pockets.

      She could have seen him coming if she’d been looking up. But she was concentrating on putting flowers in a variety of vases. Daffodils, baby’s breath, carnations—bright fresh bouquets that brought the outdoors into each room, as she’d once told him. Sam remembered the drill.

      She’d been doing it the day of her birthday, the day Kurt had stood her up, the day he’d invited her to his room for a drink, the day—

      Hell! The only thing now was to apologize, admit he’d made a mistake—that they’d both made a mistake—then, like the civilized individuals they were, they could put it behind them. And go on.

      He opened the door.

      Josie looked up over the vases, a smile on her face. It faded at the sight of him. All the color in her face faded, too.

      Sam’s jaw clenched. He drew a careful breath. “Josie,” he said, with what he hoped was the right blend of distance and camaraderie.

      She swallowed. “Sam.”

      He felt as if he’d been slapped.

      He was used to seeing Josie’s face light up when he came in the room. He was used to a sparkle in her eyes, a grin on her face. There was no grin now, no sparkle. The look she gave him was shuttered. As remote as if she were standing behind a steel wall. He wasn’t even entitled to the cheerful innkeeper persona that so endeared her to The Shields House clientele.

      Well, fine. Sam pressed his lips together, then gave a curt jerk of his head, acknowledging the distance she’d put between them.

      If that was the way she wanted it, so be it.

      “I came as soon as I could,” he said briskly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get to the funeral. I was in Hong Kong and I had to go to Japan before I came home.”

      “Of course.” Josie picked up a carnation and with great care added it to one of the bouquets. She didn’t look at him. She didn’t say anything else. Not, How are you? Not, I’ve missed you.

      The clock ticked. An airplane thrummed overhead. Sam drummed his fingers against his thigh.

      “I should have been here for her. I should have come at Christmas. I didn’t because...because...” Of you.

      No, he couldn’t say that. He sucked in a breath and tried again. “The last time I was here... I’m sorry about...”

      He stopped there, too.

      He owed her an apology, certainly. But she hadn’t exactly been unwilling! He remembered that much. He wished to hell she’d look at him now, give him some indication of what she was thinking.

      Sam Fletcher, who had once been told he “oozed charm through every pore,” felt that at the moment he was oozing only sweat.

      “About that night,” he said finally, deciding that bluntness was the best policy. “It was a mistake. A big mistake...asking you to have a drink with me. And af ter...well, after...” He paused. Damn it, at least look at me.

      She did. It was no help. Her face was so expressionless he didn’t have a clue what she thought. Still, whatever he’d said so far, clearly it wasn’t enough.

      “I didn’t mean... I never meant for what happened to... to happen.” He stopped, flushing in the face of her total silence. “It was the whiskey talking...”

      “I assumed as much.” Josie’s voice was flat. toneless. She turned to stare out the window.

      “I tried to see you the next morning. I got a call from Elinor. I went to see you then, to tell you, before I left...but Hattie said you’d gone out with Kurt...” He looked at her for confirmation.

      Her profile nodded.

      So he hadn’t screwed up her life. Thank God for that. He grinned shakily and breathed an enormous sigh of relief. “I’m glad.”

      “Are you?” She picked up the two vases in front of her and moved to put them on a cart. Sam watched, hoping she was wearing shorts so he could see those long, wonderful long legs—legs that had once wrapped around him and—

      He didn’t even notice her legs.

      Only her belly.

      Josie was pregnant!

      And not just a little pregnant, either. She was huge.

      “You’re having a baby!”

      Josie set the vases on the cart.

      She was having a baby and—“And Kurt still hasn’t married you?”

      Suddenly Sam was furious. It was bad enough the jerk stood her up all the time! It was worse that he expected her to drop everything to type his damn papers! But this was ridiculous! “Just exactly how irresponsible is he?”

      Josie turned to face him. “Why should he marry me? It’s not his child.”

      “Not—?” Sam gaped, stunned. Not Kurt’s child?

      He scowled furiously, his mind ticking over, processing this new bit of information,


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