A Camden's Baby Secret (4 page)

Read A Camden's Baby Secret Online

Authors: Victoria Pade

It had been such a good plan...

Until she'd missed her first period.

And now her second.

Until the nausea had started.

And her fingers had swelled too much to wear her rings.

It had been such a good plan, until she'd seen Callan again today...

The front door opened just then and her cousin Seth came in, calling her name.

“I'm right here,” Livi answered, her voice weak as she opened her eyes once more.

But she couldn't let Seth think anything was wrong, so she got up from the chair and pasted on a smile.

“Hey there!” Seth greeted her, coming with open arms to hug her. “Sorry I had to be gone when you got here.”

“You're here now,” she said feebly, wishing he wasn't, that he had stayed in Texas, where she knew he'd left his wife and baby to visit longer with his father-in-law.

“I'm here, but kicking myself because I just remembered that I have a Cattlemen's Association dinner tonight and I'm gonna have to turn around and leave again.”

There was some relief in hearing that. She had too much on her mind to socialize even with her cousin, who was like a brother to her.

“Don't worry about it. Do whatever you need to do. I'm fine on my own.”

“There's plenty of food in the fridge, or if you want to wait until I get back around eight I can bring you a pizza or something.”

“I'll find something in the fridge. I was going to go to bed early, anyway.”

“Tomorrow, then...”

Livi nodded, again not altogether tuned in to what was going on. “I promised to pick up my new charge, Greta Teller, after school tomorrow, and I was going to go to the store in town before that for a few things I didn't pack. But I'm free until about two or so.”

“I meet with my ranch hands on Monday mornings to schedule out the week, but how about lunch?”

Which would give her time to stop being sick.

Unless she woke up tomorrow with her period and without the nausea, and everything was okay...

Apparently she still had a little denial left.

“Lunch would be good,” she said.

With that settled, Seth dragged his suitcase in from the foyer and began to rummage in the side pockets. “So you must have found the Tellers' farm without me,” he said.

“Yeah, I did. I just got back from there a few minutes ago.”

“You met everyone? The Tellers and their granddaughter? The guardian?”

“Callan Tierney,” she informed him.

That halted the search and Seth glanced up at her with arched eyebrows. “
Callan Tierney
is the girl's guardian? You know who he is, don't you?”

“Why would I know who he is?”

Seth went back to searching through his bag, but said, “I've never met him, but Callan Tierney is CT Software.
We
use his software and so do a slew of other businesses around the world. He's worth more than we are. I wonder how someone like him ended up the guardian of a kid in Northbridge?”

“I don't know,” Livi said honestly.

“Ah, that's what I need for tonight!” Seth exclaimed, pulling a tablet out of the suitcase. Then, turning back to her, he said, “You'll have to fill me in when you find out.”

“Sure. When I find out,” she parroted.

Seth continued chatting with her, telling her about his time away. Livi did her best to keep up with that conversation. But she was still reeling inside and thinking more about the next day than anything he was saying.

The next day, when she would go into town before picking up Greta Teller.

When she would take the first step to putting denial to rest once and for all.

And buy a home pregnancy test.

* * *

After lunch with Seth on Monday, and a solo trip to the personal care section of Northbridge's general store that made Livi cringe inside, she picked up Greta from the local school.

The little girl was wearing the scarf Livi had given her the day before, and immediately asked her to tie it “better” because on the playground Jake Linman had pulled on it.

Livi obliged her as Greta launched into another outpouring of admiration for the ballet flats Livi was wearing today, the small leather cross-body purse she was using and the pin-tucked white blouse she had on over a pale blue tank top with navy blue slacks.

But Livi was only partially listening. Her mind was still on that pregnancy test and the results it might show when she took it.

“There you go,” she said when the scarf was retied.

“Dumb Jake Linman,” Greta grumbled. “He's always bothering me.”

“Maybe he likes you. Sometimes that's how boys show it,” Livi responded without much thought.

“That's what my gramma says,” Greta said, as if she was hoping for something else from Livi. Then she added under her breath, “Doesn't matter. Tomorrow is my last day.”

The last day for what?
Livi wondered, before remembering that Greta was being made to move to Denver. That meant leaving her school, her friends, the town that was home to her.

And Livi had been thinking so much about her own problems that she hadn't recognized Greta's.

But that's the reason I'm here!
she chastised herself.

She genuinely liked this little girl now that she'd met her, and not only had GiGi assigned her this make-amends project, Livi honestly wanted to help.

So regardless of what was going on in her own life, when she was with Greta, it had to be all about the girl, she realized. She had to take her own problems out of the picture. Greta had to be the center of things.

Which was exactly what Livi did for the remainder of the afternoon as she bought her ice cream and then a pair of new shoes and a matching purse that Greta admired in a shop window.

Apparently new shoes and a new purse had the same effect on little girls as big ones, because by the end of the afternoon Greta was in better spirits, and Livi felt as if she'd done some good.

It was after five when she drove up the dirt lane to the Tellers' house, passing a truck loaded with bales of hay going in the opposite direction.

She could see Callan in the barn behind the house and that was when her vow to focus only on Greta hit a snag. One look at him and Livi stopped hearing what her young charge was saying.

He was rearranging hay bales, pivoting back and forth, facing her, then facing away.

She wasn't sure if Callan hadn't noticed her arrival or if he was merely ignoring it, but he didn't so much as look in her direction.

And that gave her the opportunity to watch him freely for a moment.

Like the day before, he was dressed in boots, jeans and a work shirt—this one plaid flannel. He looked every inch the cowboy, all rugged and strong. And watching him, she found it hard to think he was anything
but
a cowboy.

The weather was warm and he had the sleeves of his shirt rolled above his elbows, leaving a hint of biceps and impressive forearms bare to where suede gloves encased big hands. She could see the shift of muscles as he hoisted the bales. Muscles like nothing she'd ever seen in any other computer whiz.

Long legs braced the weight, with thick thighs testing the denim of his jeans. His shoulders were broad and straight and seemed more likely forged by backbreaking farm work than sitting behind a desk.

And that face that had so impressed her alter ego in Hawaii—clean-shaven that evening—was made only sexier with a scruff of day's beard shadowing his sharp jawline, making him look just gritty enough to be a turn-on.

Not that she was turned on. Livi was clear about that.

But still, there was no looking at Callan, watching him do what he was doing, without appreciating the undeniable appeal of a fit man's physique.

In a purely analytical way.

Until her traitorous brain zoomed somewhere else.

Back to Hawaii. To that night. She'd insisted on complete darkness, so she hadn't really seen him naked.

Something she suddenly regretted...

She realized belatedly that she'd completely missed whatever it was that Greta was talking about. She tuned back in as the child unfastened her seat belt and opened the car door, saying, “Let's go show Uncle Callan my new stuff!”

Oh.

Livi swallowed and got a grip on herself, coming totally into the present again.

What do I do now?
she thought.

What was the protocol for two people in this situation?
Was
there a protocol?

Yesterday had been awkward, but there had been the Tellers and the nurse and Greta to serve as a buffer between her and Callan, plus so much going on that they'd both addressed only what was happening.

But now? If she followed Greta to the barn—as it seemed she should—then what?

Did they just go on acting like strangers?

Or did they, at some point, talk about Hawaii?

Did she tell him what a jerk she thought he was for ditching her in the middle of the night after sleeping with her?

Or was she supposed to act as if it hadn't fazed her? As if it was par for the course—sleep together, go your separate ways, it happened all the time...

Was that what he thought of her? That she slept around so much that it wouldn't be any big deal for a guy to slip out after the fact, without a word? That that
was
a common occurrence to her?

What an awful thought.

It made her want to shout that until him she'd slept with only one man in her life: Patrick. The man she'd loved and been devoted to. The man who had loved and been devoted to her. Her soul mate and the person she'd expected to spend her entire life with.

But if she did shout that she would just sound defensive, and Callan probably wouldn't even believe it.

What
did
people do in a situation like this?

For the second time in two days Livi just wanted to hide or run the other way.

But by then Greta had reached the barn and alerted Callan to the fact that they were there, and he was looking straight at Livi across the distance.

She took a deep breath and decided that, at any rate, she wasn't going to act as if she'd done something wrong.

Yes, she
felt
like she'd done something wrong—something terribly wrong—by sleeping with him, but in spite of that, people
did
hook up with someone they'd just met for one-night stands.

If anyone should be embarrassed, it should be him, for the way he'd treated her—slithering silently out like a snake.

If either of them needed to hang their head in shame, it was him!

So she got out of the car and followed Greta's path to the barn.

She had barely exchanged hellos with Callan when the little girl announced that she was going to show her grandparents her new shoes and purse. Thinking of that as a reprieve, Livi turned to follow.

Until Callan said, “Can you hang back, Livi?”

And off went Greta. Leaving Livi alone with this man she'd never wanted to see again as long as she lived.

“I wanted to talk to you yesterday, but then I had to come out and load that truck. John Sr. won't let me let anything slide...” Callan stopped short, as if to keep himself from saying more on that subject, and then started again. “And before I got back inside, you were gone. But we do need to talk.”

“Okay,” Livi said, with a note of challenge creeping into her tone. She was unwilling to give him any help.

“Hawaii...” he said. “I need to apologize to you for that.”

For the night they'd spent together? Or for leaving?

She raised her chin and gazed at him.

“My phone was on vibrate, so it woke me but not you a couple of hours after we fell asleep.”

Livi had thought yesterday was awkward, but this had it beat.

“I definitely didn't hear anything,” she said with accusation in her voice, thinking that he was just making up some excuse.

“The call was to let me know that Greta's parents, J.J.—John Jr.—and Mandy, had been in a car accident here,” he said, knocking some of the wind out of Livi's sails. “Mandy had died on impact. J.J. was still alive but in critical condition. No one was giving him much time...”

Callan's deep voice got more and more ragged as he spoke, and Livi could see that even now this was difficult for him.

And she'd thought that
she
was the one entitled to the emotions...

For the second time today she had to make an adjustment, suspend her own feelings and just listen.

“I had to get to J.J.,” he went on. “I had to make sure everything that
could
be done for him
was
being done. I had to see him...”

Callan cleared his throat, and realizing how hard-hit he still was somehow made Livi feel guilty for all the nasty things she'd thought about him and his impromptu departure from that hotel room.

“Mandy, J.J. and I grew up here together,” he explained. “We were close. And always stayed close. They were more family to me than my own...”

As if he needed a diversion, he looked down at his hands and pulled off his gloves, slapping them against his thigh.

And Livi hated that her brain was once again thinking about how glorious those hands and thighs were. What in the world was wrong with her?

“So when I got that call,” he continued, “I was only thinking about getting to J.J. Everything went to that. I was in the air an hour later, and halfway here before I realized—”

That not even a thought of her had entered his mind? That fact still stung, even though he'd had a good reason to be otherwise occupied.

“—that I'd just rushed out on you without a word,” he was saying. “By then, when I called the hotel, you were out of the room. And since I didn't even know your last name, I didn't have any way to track you down. I did try, I swear to you...” He paused, then added, “Anyway, I'm sorry.”

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