The Bachelor's Baby. Mia Ross
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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.”