Название | The Pregnancy Plan |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Grace Green |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon Cherish |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474014564 |
“For their cosmetic line, then,” Felicity said. “Oh, how thrilling!”
“Fingers crossed,” Lacey said. “It’s always been my dream, to be the face of GloryB!”
She smiled as she stood by her silver convertible and looked out over the dark waters of the inlet. “If it all works out, I may be asking you to find a house for me, Jordan. Something really deluxe, up here on the hill.”
But as she drove away a few moments later, her smile faded and she was left with her thoughts. Desolate thoughts about Alice, and the baby who would never be born.
Alice had done so much for her after their mother died, and had made many huge sacrifices. Lacey had thanked her many times, but mere thanks had never seemed adequate.
If only, she reflected, with a sense of grief and great loss, she had ever been able to do something to repay her beloved sister, but the occasion had never arisen.
“Aunt Lacey, this is Jack speaking…”
Lacey stood in her kitchen, making coffee as she listened to her nephew’s voice on her answering machine. She’d been in the shower and hadn’t heard the phone ring, but now, on this gray Thursday morning, with her wet hair wrapped in a towel, she gave his message her attention.
“Aunt Lacey, nobody knows I’m phoning—I’m in Uncle Jordan’s study, he’s at work and Aunt Felicity’s busy with the baby. Here’s why I’m calling. Can you come and drive me home? I’m just itchin’ to get back. So…will you call me if you can come? Please? Love, Jack.”
Lacey gave a wry smile. Who could have resisted that earnest “Love, Jack”?
She phoned Deerhaven and when Felicity answered, she asked to talk to Jack. When he came on the line, she said, “I got your message, and I’d be happy to take you home. Can you be ready to leave in about an hour?”
“Sure! And thanks, Aunt Lacey!”
“Now talk to your aunt. Come clean, tell her you’re homesick, she’ll understand. And I’ll pick you up at ten.”
Jack was ready when she arrived at Deerhaven, and they drove straight out to Horseshoe Bay. The morning was still overcast, and by the time they boarded the ferry, rain was drizzling down.
But it cleared up after a while, and by the time they reached Nanaimo, sunshine and blue skies greeted them.
Jack had chattered happily on the ferry trip, but on the drive to the ranch, he lapsed into silence. Slumping back in his seat, he stared glumly out of the window.
“Is something wrong?” Lacey asked as they turned off the highway and onto the side road leading to the ranch. “I thought you’d be so excited to be home, but—”
“I am.”
“You don’t sound very excited!” She glanced at him and saw his little face was drawn down in lugubrious lines. “I know you wanted to surprise your dad, but maybe we should have called and told him you were coming back early—are you afraid he’ll be away somewhere?”
Jack shook his head. “If he wasn’t here, Arthur would be around. It’s just…well, I’m glad to be back, but…”
“But what?”
“They’re lucky,” he muttered. “Mandy and Andrew and Todd and the baby. All these kids to play with, they’d never be lonely. I just wish I had a brother—or a sister—but I’m never going to have one. My dad was sick a long time ago and now he can’t have any more kids. It sucks.”
“I know,” she said gently, “that it must be hard, being an only child. But at least you have cousins, and you get to see them quite often.”
“Yeah,” he said. “I guess.”
But it was obvious he felt they were a poor second-best to actually having a brother or sister of his own.
By now they were approaching the house, and she saw Arthur emerge from the back door.
A confirmed bachelor and shy around women, the man had worked with Jordan for many years, and was now a permanent fixture at the ranch.
“Look,” Lacey said, hoping to divert Jack from his forlorn musings. “There’s Arthur!”
Jack bounced up in his seat, waving.
Arthur loped toward the car, and gave Lacey a respectful salute. “Hi, there, Ms. Maxwell.”
Jack snapped open his seat belt. “Where’s Dad?”
“Inside, throwin’ a few things in a bag. He’s going to Toronto, flyin’ out from Vancouver this evenin’.”
“I thought,” Lacey said, “he was going on Friday?”
“Too impatient, he was, too restless, to wait.”
“Arthur!” Jack opened his car door and hopped out. “Did Molly May have her cria yet?”
“Yup, yesterday, like clockwork. Cute as a button, too…your dad called her Molly Maybe.”
Jack said, “I can’t wait to see her—come on, Aunt Lacey. You gotta see this!”
Heavy rain must have fallen here earlier; the track was still muddy in places. But even if it had been dry, Lacey wouldn’t have jumped at the chance to traipse off looking at animals. That had been Alice’s life. It certainly wasn’t her idea of a good time.
“No, thanks,” she said. “I’ll pass.”
“Okay. But thanks for taking me over!” Jack ran around to her side of the car, and put up his arms for a hug.
She leaned over and gave him a warm one. “I enjoyed the trip,” she said. “It’s always fun to have an outing with such a cool young dude!”
Jack beamed with pleasure. Then turning to the ranch hand, he said, “Let’s go, Arthur!”
Arthur put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’d better nip inside first and let your dad know you’re back.”
“Aunt Lacey will. Right, Aunt Lacey?”
She’d intended to leave without seeing Dermid. It still rankled that he hadn’t included her in the private talk he’d had with Jordan. But Jack was hopping around impatiently, eyes eager as he waited for her response.
How could she refuse? “Yes, I’ll tell him.”
“Just go in,” Arthur said. “The doorbell needs fixin’, and he’s upstairs, won’t hear you if you knock.”
While he and Jack headed off, she got out of the car and walked toward the house, stepping carefully so’s not to muddy her cream leather pumps.
To her right was the terraced bank that Alice had transformed into a picturesque garden. While she’d been alive, it had been a joy to behold at this time of year; now weeds flourished, crowding out the once-vibrant perennials that Alice had so lovingly planted and tended.
But it wasn’t only the garden that had a desolate air; the house itself looked sad. Paint was peeling off the green front door and the brass fittings cried out for a polish. Where once the windows would have been open to the fresh spring day, with crisply laundered curtains billowing in the breeze, now they were shut…closing out the world.
Lacey opened the door and walked into the entryway. Stepping over mud-caked boots, noting the grit on the formerly gleaming slate floor, she felt her spirits sink.
And they sank further as she looked around the front hall. This would break Alice’s