His Twin Baby Surprise Page 13

  “I should have known I’d screw this up,” she muttered, brushing tears from her eyes while trying to focus on her driving. “Should have known coming back was a bad idea.”

  Her encounter with Dorcas Poole the day before had unnerved her. Even though she knew how vicious the other woman could be, Maureen had been devastated by her words. They were the same things she thought about herself. Dorcas was only saying aloud what Maureen had been saying to herself all these years. She had some nerve coming back and expecting to have a relationship with Lisa.

  She had let Violet extract a promise from her to see Lisa, but that had been a mistake. Maureen hated that she had tried to make up for thirty-three years of neglect in a few weeks. She’d ended up hovering over Lisa and annoying her.

  Ever since she’d run away when Lisa was a baby, she’d had it in her mind that she would be able to go back and make things right, but it had never happened. She had to accept that. Although Lisa hadn’t said so, she probably wanted nothing to do with the mother who had showed up and offered too little too late.

  Maureen looked down at the gas gauge and was alarmed to see how low she was. A glance at the dashboard clock told her she had been driving for two hours. Although she wanted to run as far and as fast as she could, she simply didn’t have the money. She had enough for a few days, at most, but then she would have to get a job.

  The next town she came to was one she’d never heard of before. Peachdale, Oklahoma, was typical of the small towns in the state. The highway ran through the middle, doubling as the main street. She slowed to the twenty-five-mile-per-hour speed limit and looked around.

  Perhaps eight or ten side streets branched off from Main Street. There was a small grocery store, a Laundromat and a few other stores, and at the edge of the town, which couldn’t have been more than a couple of miles square, she saw the school complex, redbrick buildings with neatly manicured lawns beginning to show their spring color. Across the street was a new-looking combination gas station, convenience store and café. Maureen pulled in, filled her tank and then went into the café, whose door held a hastily scrawled Help Wanted sign.

  Although she wondered briefly what kind of help they wanted, she sat and ordered eggs, bacon and toast from a grumpy-looking man with a gray buzz cut and few words to offer.

  To distract herself, she examined the café, which held about a dozen tables and four booths along a wall of windows. She was the only customer.

  She’d been in more places like this than she cared to count. Worked in more places like this than she cared to remember. This one, the Peachdale Café, appeared to be a cut above the rest. The wooden tabletops gleamed, as did the floor, and the windows were adorned with crisp, red curtains tied back with white bows. Still-life watercolor paintings featuring fruits, vegetables and flowers graced the walls, giving the place a homelike, welcoming feel.

  The waiter brought her a cup of coffee and the worst-looking breakfast she’d ever seen. The bacon and toast were the next closest thing to burned, and the scrambled eggs were hard enough to bounce on the floor.

  Maureen gave him a you’ve-got-to-be-kidding-me look.

  “The cook quit,” he said. “And my regular waitress has a sick kid, so I’ve been filling in on both jobs.”

  Ah, that explained what kind of help was needed. “For how long?”

  “A couple of weeks.” He shrugged. “Lost all my best customers. But I never claimed to be a cook. I know how to run this place, and I’m good at a lot of things, but cooking isn’t one of ’em.”

  Maureen observed him for a second. He appeared tough, probably ex-military, but he had a self-deprecating air she liked.

  “My wife was the cook. When I got out of the Marines, we built this place. I ran that side of things—” he nodded toward the gas station and convenience store “—and Carol ran this place, did most of the cooking. Did the decorating...”

  His voice trailed off as his gaze ran over the paintings. His tough face softened as he looked at them, and Maureen guessed his wife had also done the artwork. His obvious affection for Carol was touching. He had been almost silent when Maureen had walked into the café, but thinking about his wife had made him chatty.

  “When did she die?” she asked quietly.

  His gaze snapped to her and he was all business again. “Two years ago. Cancer.”

  “I’m sorry. It must have been very hard.”

  He nodded, his mouth firming into a hard line.

  Maureen had the sudden, disturbing realization that there probably wasn’t anyone who would mourn her if she were to die suddenly. Her mind veered away from that sad thought.

  “I’m a cook,” she said impulsively. “I’ve worked in kitchens all my life, as a short-order cook, sous chef, you name it, and I need a job.”

  He frowned. “Do you live around here?”

  “I also need a place to live.”

  “There’s a little apartment out back you can use, but I’ll need some references.”

  “Of course, but in the meantime, why don’t I fix us both a decent breakfast?”

  “Okay.” He picked up the plate of sad-looking food. “My name is Clive Forrest. Like I said, I own this place, along with the convenience store and gas station. Don’t have any problems keeping good help over there. Just here. Only open from 6:00 a.m. till 2:00 p.m. and I still can’t keep a cook.”

  Maureen introduced herself and followed him into the kitchen, which she was glad to see was as spotless as the dining room itself. Of course, with few customers, there was too little cooking going on to create a mess.

  Clive handed her a clean, starched apron, which she tied around her waist, then he pulled up a stool and watched her fix golden toast, crisp bacon and fluffy eggs.

  “I watched Carol cook a million times, but I just don’t have the touch.”

  Maureen liked this tough-looking, candid Marine. He seemed as if he would be an honest boss. With a flourish, she handed him a plate of food. “Try this and see if I’ve got the touch.”

  After a few bites he said, “You’re hired. As soon as we’re finished eating, I’ll show you where the apartment is.”

  “Oh, okay. Thanks,” she said, blinking in pleased surprise. She’d never landed a job so easily.

  Clive was as good as his word, showing her where to park her car around back and then helping her carry her things inside. The apartment had a combination living room and kitchen, as well as a small bedroom and bath. The place was clean, with worn but serviceable furniture. It only needed a good airing out. She’d lived in worse.

  “Can you be ready for work in about an hour?” Clive asked.

  “Certainly. I just have to look at the menu, check the supplies and find everything I need in the kitchen.”

  “Good, because once I put out the sign, we’ll have a lunch rush.”

  “The sign?”

  “Yup.”

  Curious, she followed him outside and around to the side of the building. He pulled a canvas tarp off a wheeled marquee with an electrical cord looped over its top. He began pushing it toward the street side of the café. Snap-in letters read Hired A Cook!

  * * *

  TWO WEEKS AFTER Maureen’s departure, Lisa stood by Reston Lake, enjoying the sparkle of light on the water, breathing deeply of the fresh air and then sitting gratefully on the tailgate of Roland Hall’s truck, which he had thoughtfully backed up near the spot where the investors from Oklahoma City were holding a discussion.

  The group had arrived that morning to walk the complete property for the first time and to get the particulars they’d need to go ahead with the development. They had brought along a survey crew and she had brought along Bunky and Roland.

  To her delight, the two council members weren’t arguing today. Instead they were ready to answer any of the investors’ que
stions. The only problem was, they didn’t know much about the project and continually ran back to her to find out what was needed.

  “So the title is clean on the property the city is selling and what the Burleighs are selling, but not from the Masons, right?” Bunky asked, holding up a finger to indicate each parcel of land.

  Lisa smiled at the investment group even as she tried to keep from gritting her teeth at Bunky. “Yes, I told you that, but it can easily be obtained. The Masons are eager to sell and are taking full responsibility for clearing up the title. They don’t want any impediment to this deal any more than the rest of us do.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Just making sure. You’re the only one who knows this stuff since you’re the only Realtor in town.”

  As he trotted away, Lisa’s smile grew genuine and she shook her head. Bunky was only doing his job. The city council, the county supervisors, almost everyone in Reston County, in fact, was anxious to see this development happen. And it looked like it really would. Between the resort itself and its infusion of tourist dollars, the golf course, the fishing and the possibility of water sports in the future, the place would provide dozens of jobs.

  Her smile faded when she considered Bunky’s words. She was the only Realtor in town and that had been a good thing for her business, but wouldn’t be for this deal. Since she was acting mayor, she couldn’t also be the broker—that would certainly be a conflict of interest. However, she could be involved in every other way.

  From what she’d seen of the investment group so far, they seemed sincere in their desire to create a quality development. And she liked them personally. The two women were the reason she was sitting on the tailgate of Roland’s truck. When the ladies realized she was pregnant, they had been so horrified at the idea of her standing around on the hillside during endless discussions, they’d sent Roland scurrying to get his truck.

  At last, the group seemed satisfied and headed back to the city with assurances that she would be hearing from them soon.

  Talking excitedly about the development, Bunky and Roland hurried to their vehicles.

  Lisa climbed into hers and sat sipping water from an insulated bottle and rubbing her tummy. She’d been having odd twinges all morning. They had been coming and going for days. Gemma said they were perfectly normal for a mom who was well into her fourth month and for Lisa to stay off her feet when they started, but that simply hadn’t been possible today. She made a mental note to put a folding chair into the trunk of her car for the next time she had to spend hours on a grassy hillside answering questions.

  As she rested and prepared to return to town, she idly watched the surveyors and thought about all that had happened in the past week.

  She had gone online and ordered some actual maternity slacks. It was as if her waistline had suddenly exploded. Gemma said that, too, was perfectly normal, but had scheduled Lisa for her first ultrasound at the hospital in Toncaville. Reston didn’t have a sonographic machine yet.

  Lisa was eager to have the exam and see the results, an actual picture of her baby, and so were Ben’s parents. One or the other of them called every day to see how she was doing.

  She hadn’t heard a word from Ben since the day they had felt the baby move. What had been a delightful surprise for her had seemed like a terrible shock to him. She tried not to judge him too harshly because he’d never made a secret of his reluctance to be a father. Still, she couldn’t help feeling disappointed in him.

  That feeling warred with her disappointment in herself when she thought about how she had treated Maureen. She had called and left messages of apology, but there had been no reply except for a terse text message from Maureen saying she was okay and had found a job. Lisa knew she needed to let her mom go, at least for now, but it was hard to do so.

  When her need for a bathroom became more urgent than her need to sit and stew over Ben, Lisa headed back to town. She had far too many things to think about. There was no time to worry over Ben or Maureen.

  By the time she got home that evening, she was too tired to make it past the living room sofa, where she lay down and propped up her feet, falling instantly asleep.

  A knock on the door startled her awake and she jumped up to answer it. A moment of dizziness made her stagger as she swung the door open and she shook her head to clear it.

  Ben waited on the porch with an envelope in his hand. He held it up, but froze in midair when he saw her face. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, of course.” She put a hand to her head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  He stepped forward and grabbed her arm to support her. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because you’re white as a sheet.”

  “I...think I stood up too fast.”

  “Well, then, sit down.” Ben didn’t even wait for an invitation. He stepped inside, put a supporting arm around her and walked her to the sofa. Lisa leaned into him, resting on his strength, enjoying the comfort of depending on someone else, even for a moment.

  He sat her down and looked at her with concern.

  Ben straightened. “I’ll get you some water.”

  He tossed the envelope onto the coffee table and hurried to the kitchen. She looked down at the envelope, which had her name written on the front and the return address of a law firm in Tulsa printed in the corner.

  Ben walked back into the room with a glass of water, which he handed to her. Standing over her, he waited until she’d finished the glass before he sat.

  Finally he said, “I went to a law firm, started making the arrangements to provide for the baby. Have your attorney look it over. If you think it’s fair, we’ll sign on the dotted line and it’ll be a done deal.”

  Lisa looked the documents over and then glanced up. “You took that spreadsheet seriously, didn’t you? This seems more than fair.”

  Even if the unthinkable happened and her career tanked, she would always be able to take care of her child. Her heart warmed as she looked at Ben. He sat, relaxed in a chair, looking around her living room as if unaware of the wonderful gift he’d given her.

  When he felt her gaze on him, he smiled in a way that emphasized his dimples, and gave her a wink—reminding her of why he was called the Reston Rascal.

  “More than fair,” she repeated, corralling her thoughts back to the business at hand. “Generous.”

  “Good.” He stood. “But I’d feel better if you had an attorney look it over.”

  “I will, although I don’t think you have any plans to cheat me, Ben, or our child.”

  “No, of course not. I only want to get things settled. I’m flying to Arizona tomorrow. I’ve got a board meeting in Phoenix for one of the charities I support and then I’ve got a golf tournament in Tucson. It would be good if we could get this signed as soon as I get back next week. I’ll give you a call to set up a time.”

  Done and dusted, Lisa thought. Put a checkmark beside the line item that said Provide for Child, which, no doubt, was on the line right after Board Meeting and Golf Tournament.

  She reached up to sweep unexpected tears away. “O...okay,” she said.

  “Hey, what’s the matter?” Ben asked. “Are you in pain?”

  “No. I’m fine. I was out at Reston Lake with the investment group who’s considering building a resort, and I think I got too much sun. Now, if that’s all, I’m sure you need to go and...pack your golf shoes or something.”

  She stood, ready to usher him out the door, but another wave of light-headedness had her reaching out to steady herself.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “LISA!” BEN LEAPED forward to grab her but she tried to shrug him off. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s nothing. Just need to catch my breath.” She blinked at him and glanced around as if trying to remember something. “Shouldn’t you be playing golf?”

  “What?” Ben helped h
er to sit on the sofa. He should have known there was something wrong when she answered the door looking as pale as milk. When her face didn’t take on any color within a minute or so, he bent over and gently urged her to lie down while he pulled off her shoes and stacked cushions beneath her feet. He watched her closely until her complexion appeared normal. “Golf isn’t for a few days.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, frowning.

  Realizing she was disoriented, he said, “Never mind. Are you in pain?”

  “No, a little dizzy.”

  “Come on, I’m taking you to the emergency room.”

  “There’s no reason for that. I can call Gemma—”

  “Good. Then do it.” He glanced around, spied her things on a table and grabbed her purse. “Here. Get your phone and call her. I’ll wait.”

  She gave him an annoyed look, but he only stared her down until she punched the speed dial to call Gemma. In less than a minute she hung up and said, “She’s coming right over. It isn’t necessary for you to stay.”

  “Sure it is. She’s a medical professional. I want to hear what she has to say. I’ll stick around until I hear her diagnosis.”

  “I’m pregnant,” Lisa said testily as color rose in her cheeks. “That’s the diagnosis.”

  He grinned. Better to have her getting snippy with him than looking as though she was going to pass out.

  “Do you mind if I stick around?” he asked, retaking an easy chair opposite the sofa.

  “Of course I do, but it’s not as though I can pick you up and throw you out, even if that is what I’d like to do.”

  “Instead of that, why don’t you lie back, relax, close your eyes—”

  “And imagine you disappearing.”

  “That’s my girl,” he said approvingly.

  Gemma was there within a few minutes. Ben would have been okay staying in the living room while she conducted the examination, but both women had given him a no-nonsense look that sent him to find refuge in the kitchen.