Sunflower Lane Page 6

  “It’s gorgeous, Char. Tim did good.” Annabelle broke off a chunk of a cinnamon bun and popped it into her mouth.

  “It’s downright perfect—that’s what it is,” Tess added. Her own left hand rested on her baby bump, while the other held a forkful of warm apple crisp in midair. Tess was the picture of maternal contentment in loose jeans and a bright yellow maternity top, her shoulder-length, burnished red hair curled gently around her lightly freckled, girl-next-door pretty face.

  “Oooh.” Suddenly gasping, she set her fork down with a clatter. Then a huge smile spread across her face. “Wow. That one was something. Anyone want to feel this mini linebacker or ballerina kick?”

  “I do!” Annabelle and Charlotte spoke in unison and reached out at once.

  “That is so . . . awesome.” Annabelle spoke in a whisper as she felt the rolling motion beneath her fingers. Her heart filled at her friend’s rapturous expression. Tess had been pregnant before, a little more than a year and a half ago. But she’d lost the baby late in the pregnancy.

  She and John had been devastated, barely getting through each day for months after. Though Annabelle saw hope and excitement in her friend’s eyes today, she knew Tess was worried, nearly as anxious as she’d been back in seventh grade when her parents decided to divorce. She hid it well, but Tess wouldn’t truly relax until her baby was delivered, alive and healthy and snug in her arms.

  “I can’t believe you don’t want to know if it’s a boy or girl,” Charlotte teased.

  “I like surprises. Good surprises,” Tess amended quickly, a shadow of unease flitting over her face, then vanishing. “It’ll make everything even more exciting when the time comes.”

  “You know, don’t you, that you’re going to be humongous when you walk down the aisle at my wedding?” Charlotte mused; then, as Tess and Annabelle both stared at her, brows raised, she clapped a hand to her mouth.

  “Sorry—how rude am I? I’m sure it’s good luck to have a hugely pregnant woman at your wedding, right? Let me look that up on my phone. There has to be some good karma there—”

  Annabelle laughed as Charlotte’s dainty thumbs danced across the buttons of her cell phone.

  “You understand there’s always a chance he or she will make an appearance before the wedding,” Tess pointed out, then shot Charlotte a puzzled glance. “I don’t understand why you’re getting married in late July anyway. The planning will be so rushed. And if you push it back just a month or so, say to late August or September, I might even be back to my normal size and won’t have to wear a tent down the aisle. Not that I’m telling you what to do or anything.”

  “Forget it. It’s bad luck to postpone a wedding.” Charlotte’s mouth was set with determination. “And it’s very good luck to get married on the night of the full moon, so that’s the date I chose. Besides, I’m not giving Tim any chance to chicken out. Exactly two weeks and five days after the Fourth, I’m dragging that man down the aisle.”

  “Something tells me there won’t be a whole lot of dragging involved.” Annabelle popped another gooey chunk of cinnamon bun into her mouth. “I mean, have you seen the way he looks at you?”

  She’d seen the way Tim looked at Charlotte. With love, with longing, with a kind of softness in his eyes. Sometimes she couldn’t help feeling a tiny twinge of envy.

  She had two best friends whom she’d known since the first grade. One of them was glowing and pregnant, the other glowing and newly engaged. She was so happy for both of them. They’d found good, solid, wonderful men. Men who loved and admired them.

  She, on the other hand, had let herself be deceived by a man with all the charm of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

  Her thoughts broke off as she noticed Charlotte studying her thoughtfully.

  “Something good’s going to happen soon to you, too, Annabelle. I have a feeling.”

  “Oh, man. Again with the feelings?” Tess grinned.

  Charlotte was into horoscopes, good-luck charms, Ouija boards, and “feelings.” She had been since the sixth grade.

  Only she frequently called them “intuitions.”

  “You better believe it. I read Annabelle’s horoscope the other day and according to what it said, a new man is coming into her life. And soon. Then everything will change for the better.”

  “Romantically speaking, it can’t get much worse.” Calmly, Annabelle took a sip of her coffee.

  “I’m serious here. I see you with someone . . . not someone like your dipshit of an ex, but someone good—”

  “Like my grandson?” a voice chirped out of nowhere. Actually, it came from the back of the bakery.

  Annabelle froze. Twisting in her chair, she saw Wes’s grandmother, Ava Louise Todd, seated at a table at the back of the room. Annabelle had been so excited to see Charlotte’s ring after her last dance class ended that she hadn’t even noticed anyone else in the place, but there were about a half dozen other customers at various tables and booths, enjoying fresh coffee, baked goods, salads, and sandwiches. Now she realized that across from Ava Louise Todd sat Ava’s daughter, Diana.

  Wes’s mother.

  Her stomach lurched. Then her glance shifted to another table.

  Marissa Fields and Darby Kenton sat there, nibbling on salads.

  Marissa had been Wes’s eighth-grade girlfriend at Lonesome Way Middle School. Though their “relationship” had lasted only a few weeks, typical for a couple of thirteen-year-old kids, Marissa had later dated Wes in high school for the last five months of senior year.

  And back then, five months had been a record for Wes McPhee to be with just one girl.

  He and Marissa had even gone to prom together.

  Both Darby and Marissa were paying no attention at all to their untouched glasses of iced tea and had apparently been listening to every word.

  “Mom, please . . .” Diana spoke quietly to her mother, but Ava Louise Todd seemed not to have heard.

  “You could do worse than our Wes, you know,” the tiny white-haired woman called out to Annabelle, her soft but commanding voice carrying through the bakery. Her arm was in a cast at her side, and a wedge of blueberry pie sat on the plate before her—forgotten.

  Her expression was as imperious as if she were the Queen of England.

  She raised her voice. “I believe my grandson is staying in the cabin on your property, isn’t he, Annabelle? That’s what he told Sophie when he stopped by at lunchtime. He’s a fine-looking man; don’t you agree?”

  “Gran. Stop, please.” Sophie’s expression was stern as she darted from the kitchen carrying plates of lemon meringue pie. She set them down in front of two women drinking coffee at a booth, then whirled back to her grandmother. “Please, Gran. Not another word.”

  “Well, why not?” Ava dimpled. “Aside from your Rafe and those good-looking Tanner brothers of his, our Wes is the handsomest cowboy in this town. In any town, come to think of it. Don’t you girls agree? Tess, Charlotte, Annabelle, be honest. You must have noticed, my dears.”

  “Wes is . . . very handsome,” Annabelle managed to squeak out.

  “Of course he is. And sexy to boot!”

  “But some of us are already taken, Mrs. Todd.” Tess intervened quickly as Annabelle sat frozen, fighting the temptation to slide beneath the table. “And”—Tess glanced at Annabelle curiously—“some of us didn’t even know that Wes was back in town.”

  “Not to mention staying at your cabin,” Charlotte murmured, her expressive eyes pinned to Annabelle’s face. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “I . . . didn’t have a chance. Besides, it’s no big deal. He needed someplace to stay—”

  “Because he wants to be here while I’m recovering,” Ava announced proudly. “He promised me he’d stay until the Fourth of July. So it occurred to me that perhaps one of our lovely young single ladies in this town might draw his eye and convi
nce him to stay on permanently.”

  She peered carefully around the bakery, her gaze pausing momentarily on Darby and Marissa.

  “That’s what I’m hoping, at least. And if anyone can convince him to stay here, I’d be in their debt.”

  Then her twinkling eyes shifted to Annabelle once more. And softened.

  “Did you hear what I said, Annabelle?”

  “Please don’t look at me, Mrs. Todd. I have my hands full and I’m definitely not in the market for a man.”

  “Even one as handsome and smart and wonderful as my grandson?”

  “Gran!” Sophie choked out the word, then drew a breath. “Wes will take off like a shot if he hears you talking like this. We’ll never see him again.”

  “But he’s not here, dear. This is just girl talk. I’m getting the word out there, as people say. It’s not like I’m going on some online dating site and putting up a profile for him.”

  Diana Hartigan jumped up from her chair. “Mom, let’s take our pie with us and get you home. This is your first day out since your accident. You need to rest. I think your concussion is speaking.”

  “Nonsense. My concussion is gone. But I do want to stop by the Cuttin’ Loose and say hello to Martha, and everyone getting their hair done.” Ava allowed her daughter to help her to her feet as Sophie exchanged speaking glances with her mother and hurried to get them carryout boxes for their leftover pie.

  “You girls have a nice afternoon, now—and don’t forget to spread the word,” Ava instructed anyone listening as Diana bit her lip, her shoulders tense as she tried to hustle her mother out of the bakery without jostling the arm in the cast.

  The moment they were gone, Sophie sank down into a chair beside Annabelle. Her eyes were wide with dismay.

  “I’m so sorry about that! She gets worse with age. I swear, Gran, Martha Davies, and Dorothy Winston think they’re everyone’s fairy godmothers. Now you know why I call them Bippity, Boppity, and Boo.”

  The other patrons in the bakery had been listening in on the entire discussion, and a wave of chuckles ran through the room.

  “Honestly, it’s no big deal.” Annabelle tried to ignore the flush she felt heating her cheeks, and hoped everyone else would do the same. “Your grandmother’s as cute as can be, Sophie.”

  “She’s a handful! Please don’t ever tell Wes about this, okay? My brother might take off for parts unknown even sooner than he already plans to. We hardly ever see him as it is.”

  “Lips sealed,” Annabelle murmured.

  Sophie shot her a grateful smile and returned to the bakery counter as a noisy group of preteen girls crowded into the shop, followed by a couple of older kids in shorts and tees. All of the kids knew exactly what they wanted—the fresh-baked brownies and peanut butter cookies in the bakery case.

  Darby and Marissa strolled over to the table, their faces alight with interest.

  “So give us the scoop. How is Wes?” Darby asked Annabelle.

  She’d been married to Stan Hadley, the assistant principal at the middle school, for the past three years, but she was obviously still curious to hear about her friend’s eighth-grade crush. After Annabelle replied that Wes seemed fine, though she hadn’t really spent any time with him, Marissa broke in.

  “What I want to know is this—is he still in a relationship with that woman?”

  Annabelle stared at her blankly. “What woman?”

  “Last time he was in town—maybe three years ago—I ran into him at the Tumbleweed and he told me there was someone in his life, some woman he worked with. Cara something. It sounded semi-serious.”

  Marissa was petite, with a fluff of short, toffee-colored hair. She was also divorced, supersmart, knew how to apply makeup perfectly, and worked as a stenographer at the courthouse.

  “I . . . have no idea,” Annabelle said truthfully.

  “No biggie.” Darby shrugged, moving off toward the bakery counter. “I’m sure we’ll find out all the deets before long. This is Lonesome Way, after all.”

  Marissa lingered, her gaze thoughtful. “Was he wearing a wedding ring?”

  “I don’t think so.” Annabelle felt like the most unobservant person on the planet. She hadn’t even looked at Wes’s hand to see whether he wore a ring. She’d been too caught up in that rugged, handsome face, that longish hair, that chest. . . .

  “I’m sorry, Riss, I’m not exactly a fount of information, am I?”

  “No problem.” The other woman’s lips curved upward in a confident smile. “By tomorrow or the next day we’ll likely know everything. Every girl we went to high school with who’s still single will be checking him out at the Double Cross and the Tumbleweed—you wait and see.”

  The moment the two women left, Annabelle realized that both of her best friends were staring at her curiously.

  “What? Do I have crumbs on my face?”

  “Wes McPhee, you idiot,” Tess murmured. “Why didn’t you tell us he was staying in your cabin?”

  Charlotte leaned forward, her eyes dancing. “Dish. Is he as handsome as he was in high school?”

  “Give me a break—not you, too.” But a smile curved her lips. “Okay, fine. If you really want to know, he’s even more handsome. But that has nothing to do with me. He’s just a boarder who’s going to fix up Big Jed’s cabin in lieu of paying rent.”

  “Uh-huh.” Charlotte shot her a piercing glance. “Annabelle, what’s wrong with you? I mean, I know you’re gun-shy after what happened with Zack, but that doesn’t mean you can’t move on. Are you going to let Zack Craig control the rest of your life?”

  “Zack has nothing to do with my life anymore.”

  “So why don’t you think about dating again?”

  “I have dated. I’ve dated . . . several men since I came back to Lonesome Way.”

  “Um, that would be two. Two men.” Tess snorted. “That’s hardly several. And you only went out with each of them once. There are plenty more single men in this town—”

  “Yep. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have my hands pretty full with three children and a job.” Annabelle laughed, then swallowed the last bite of her cinnamon bun and reached for her coffee.

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t have any fun—and, you know, get out there a bit more.” Charlotte sent her a look that was part challenge and part smile. “Come out with us tonight. Tim and I want to celebrate our engagement. Let’s all go to the Double Cross.”

  “Yes!” Tess leaned forward. “John and I are in! I’ve been craving pizza all week!”

  She leaned back suddenly, her hand moving to her belly, resting there. Annabelle guessed the baby was kicking again. Tess’s wide smile confirmed it.

  She suddenly wondered with a hint of wistfulness what it would feel like to have a new life growing inside her. A miracle . . . a baby of her own . . . with a man she loved . . .

  “I’ll be the one drinking herbal tea,” Tess said, “but John can toast you guys with a beer or two.” She turned to Annabelle. “So . . . say you’re coming, too! You have to!”

  “I’d need to find a last-minute sitter for the kids—”

  “Very doable,” Charlotte pointed out.

  Annabelle bit her lip. “He thinks I’m bossy,” she muttered.

  “What? Who thinks you’re bossy? Wes?”

  “No one. Forget it.”

  As her friends exchanged raised brows and amused smiles, Annabelle stood quickly, scooping up her purse. “I’ll make a few calls and see what I can do about a sitter.”

  “Seven thirty,” Charlotte said. “First one there gets a table for five.”

  “If I can get a sitter.”

  When Annabelle walked over to the counter to pay her bill, Sophie glanced at her, sympathy and amusement brimming in her eyes. “I couldn’t help overhearing. You need a sitter. And I thought you’d like to
know that Ivy hopes to do a lot of babysitting this summer. She wants to go on an international high school trip next year and is saving up money for it. Now that school’s out, she’s working her tail off for Jake. She’s putting in long hours at his retreat almost every day. As a matter of fact, Rafe and I hardly see her,” she added with a rueful laugh.

  Annabelle knew that Jake Tanner, the youngest of the three Tanner brothers, had turned his cabin and land on Blackbird Lake into a retreat for bullied kids and their families. Groups of kids from all over the country had the opportunity to come to Montana, learn to ride horses, to fish, and enjoy the outdoors over the summer and during winter vacation, too. The rest of the year, Jake rented out the cabins and main lodge he’d built to hunters, hikers, fishermen, and tourists.

  “So I suppose Ivy has a regular babysitting job at night?” Annabelle asked.

  “No regular job. She babysits here and there, but not every night. I happen to know she had a little tiff with her boyfriend and is free tonight, so if you want to go out, give her a call.”

  Sophie’s stepdaughter, Ivy, was fifteen, very pretty, very responsible, and had babysat for Megan, Michelle, and Ethan several times, although not in the last few months. “I’ll do that. Thanks, Sophie.”

  She was fairly certain Sophie had overheard the rest of the conversation, too. The part about her brother. She gritted her teeth as she headed out of the bakery.

  There were definitely advantages to living in the big city, whether it was Philadelphia or LA. There, everyone didn’t know everything about your life, your business. Your dating habits and social life.

  Or lack thereof.

  The truth was, she was nowhere near ready to even think about dating again. She’d gone out only a couple of times, and only because her friends kept pestering her.

  “You have to get your feet wet again before you relearn how to swim,” Charlotte always said, trying to be helpful.

  But dating didn’t seem like swimming. More like diving off the high board with your hands tied behind your back.