The Bachelor's Baby. Mia Ross

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.”

      The door opened and then closed, and then all was quiet.

      Lindsay’s appetite had evaporated during the terse conversation she’d overheard, and she crept back to bed. Despite his earlier refusal to hire her, she’d sensed that he wasn’t completely convinced about it. That had left her with a tiny sliver of hope that he might change his mind, especially when she heard Ellie gently nudging him to reconsider. His comment about not being able to trust her made her more ashamed than she’d ever been, and she buried herself under the covers while tears that she’d held in for days finally escaped.

      Working for Brian had been her last—and only—chance at some security for herself and her unborn child. Now that door was firmly closed, and she searched her mind for the window that the old saying insisted would be opened.

      But this time, there wasn’t one.

       Chapter Three

      After a few hours of restless sleep, Brian finally gave up and decided it was time to start his day. The caretaker’s cottage next to the forge was pretty bare-bones, even for him, and he wasn’t surprised when he poked his head out from under the covers only to discover there was no heat. Again.

      He was good with most machinery, but the antique oil furnace bewildered him. No matter what fix he tried, it refused to fire up without some serious coaxing. Fortunately, the small fieldstone fireplace was more reliable. Too bad he’d forgotten to bank the fire before hitting the hay last night.

      Rather than waste time building another one, he settled for a steamy shower that not only warmed him up but also eased some of the lingering pain from yesterday. Every muscle in his body ached from wrestling with the archaic equipment he was trying to bring back from the dead, and he faced another long day of the same. His daunting rehab project had been going on for six months now, and sometimes he wondered if he was making any progress at all.

      Pushing the doubt from his mind, he strolled into the lobby and silently thanked СКАЧАТЬ