Heartsong Cottage (24 page)

There, finally, she allowed her tears to fall. Shannon sobbed out her hurt and disappointment as her hopes and dreams circled the drain and disappeared. The storm eventually ended, helped along by the emptying of her hot water heater. She stepped from the shower and grabbed for a towel feeling as if she'd aged fifty years.

She crawled into bed, hating the scent of him on her sheets, but too bone weary to do anything about it. Immediately, she fell asleep. She dreamed of Key West and sunset on a Mallory Square strewn with decapitated teddy bears everywhere she turned. She awoke with a scream on her lips.

Sitting up, her heart pounding, she gasped for breath. Then the dream faded and reality returned and she buried her face in her hands. “What am I going to do?”

She heard a voice in her head as clear as a church bell.
“Aspiring angels don't indulge in pity parties.”

Whoa, she'd been spending too much time reading Celeste's manuscript if she now started hearing the woman's voice in her mind. And yet, the fact that she had heard it calmed her and strengthened her.

So, her fantasies about happy-ever-after with Daniel Garrett weren't going to happen. It wasn't the end of the world. She'd fallen into love with him quickly; she would fall right out of it just as quickly.

Honestly, she'd dodged a bullet. The man had more baggage than she did—which was saying something. Any relationship attempting to float that much poundage had been bound to sink eventually. Better now than later, when her heart was even more invested.

Oh, she knew he'd be back eventually. At some point—maybe years in the future—curiosity would get the better of him and he'd discover that his blessed vasectomy hadn't taken. He'd come demanding a paternity test. Maybe looking for a relationship with her child. Perhaps even absolution from her. Maybe she'd even give it to him.

Her heart, however, was another matter entirely.

In the meantime, she needed a plan. She'd already decided against running. She'd planted her flag in Eternity Springs. Now to figure out how to make the best possible life here for herself and for her child.

So the question became: what made life good? Family, friends, and financial security were a darn good start. Well, she and the baby would have each other for family, and that would be just fine. She had the means to put food on the table and a roof over their heads, so financially she'd be okay for a little while. No need to cross the child-support bridge now.

Which led to friends. This was where it got complicated. She'd rolled the dice by going public with her relationship with Daniel, and unfortunately, the die had cast snake eyes.

Once her pregnancy grew obvious, her friends would conclude that Daniel was the father. When he failed to own up to it—or followed through with his threat and accused her of trying to pass someone else's baby off as his—what would she do? He said/she said never ended well for anybody.

Maybe she should read through Celeste's advice for aspiring angels to look for an answer for a situation like this.

Her anger rekindled, fueled by hurt. She didn't begrudge him a moment of doubt—well, not too much, anyway—but the fact that he immediately concluded she was a skank and never once asked a single question totally chapped her. Perhaps he was just scared. Fear didn't excuse his behavior, but fear was something she could understand. His immediate doubt in her, however, was unforgivable.

His friends might be her friends, but Eternity Springs was her home. Barring any noise out of Russell, this would be the place where her child would grow up. Her reputation was important to her. Plus, she had the righteousness of truth on her side. Eventually, a paternity test would prove her out, but she didn't want months of suspicious looks and friends choosing sides.

It was time for war.

*   *   *

Daniel closed his eyes and dragged his hand down his face. He was so screwed.

Google is my friend, my ass.
Google was his worst fear come to life. Come to life in May or June, apparently.

He shoved away from his computer. He'd go for a run. After the day he'd had, he either needed to run himself ragged or drink himself into oblivion. Since he didn't want to miss a doctor's call—be it Nic Callahan or his surgeon back in Boston—running was the better choice. Besides, Shannon owned the only bar in town, and she was the last person he wanted to see right now.

“It's me. Us. All three of us. You're going to be a father.”

Been there, done that. Got the casket.

“Oh, God,” he groaned again, dropping his head back and lifting his face toward heaven. Toward Justin. “Oh, God. I can't do this again.”

Pain ripped through him, all but bringing him to his knees. A part of him recognized that if he ever gave in to that urge, he might never get up. So he changed into shorts and a T-shirt, grabbed his sneakers, and tried to outrun his reality. He ran across the grounds of Angel's Rest, through town, and headed up Cemetery Road. He'd never explored this route. Didn't know where it went once it rounded the mountain or what sort of terrain lay ahead, but the name of the road suited him.

He ran hard. Sweat beaded at his temples and dribbled down his spine. Just as he reached the turnoff to the cemetery, he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate.

He checked the number. Boston. “Hello, Jeff.”

“Hey, cuz. How they hanging?”

The two men weren't cousins, but the nickname had stuck since the night they'd first met twenty years ago now when Daniel's cousin introduced them. “Do you ask all of your urology patients that?”

“Not in so many words, but yeah. I do. So, my office manager told me you said it's important. What can I do for you?”

“I have a question. I think I already know the answer, but I have to ask it anyway.”

The conversation didn't take long. Daniel wasn't interested in being scolded. Yeah, he obviously should have gone in for his follow-up, but that ship had sailed. He confirmed what he'd suspected—hell, what he'd known—from almost the moment he'd left Heartsong Cottage. He'd made a really terrible assumption, and he'd reacted badly. Really badly. Beyond bad.

Dumbass.

He'd have to deal with the consequences of that. Deal with her. He'd hurt Shannon and that made him feel like pond scum, but before he did anything else, he had to process this gut-wrenching bit of news.

Because of his job, he was acquainted with more parents who'd lost their children than most, and in his experience, grieving parents ordinarily fell into two camps: those who desperately wanted another child, and those who absolutely didn't. Daniel had known from the moment the funeral director had led him and Gail into the casket room that he was finished with fatherhood. Gail's infertility had been a blessing. The pain was beyond bearing.

And the fear was overwhelming. Ten years later, time had dulled the pain but the fear—oh, the fear—it remained all-consuming.

Evil hadn't changed in the last ten years. If anything, he believed it had grown in scope and number. His experience had proved that evil souls found their way to evil deeds sooner, at younger ages than they had in the past—the influence of the Internet, he suspected.

The thought of needing to protect another child chilled him to his soul. Words pounded through his mind in rhythm with his sneakers pounding the road.
I can't do it. I can't do it. I can't do it.

“Well, guess what, boyo. It's happening whether you like it or not. You don't get a choice.”

The sound of a motorcycle approaching from in front of him had him shifting onto the shoulder of the road. When it rounded a curve and came into view, he recognized the rider. Celeste on her Gold Wing. As she drew closer, he saw she wore a white leather motorcycle jacket with gold fringe on the sleeve. She lifted a hand and waved to him, then pulled off the road and stopped. Lifting her helmet off her head, she gazed at him with compassion. “Daniel. How is your poor puppy doing?”

“So far, so good.”

“I'm so glad.” She tilted her head and studied him for a long moment. “You're troubled about more than Soupy.”

“You remind me of my aunt Sally, Celeste. My mom always said she was a psychic.”

“I admit to being intuitive, but honey, anxiety is rolling off you in waves. May I give you a quick bit of advice?”

“Of course.” Daniel wasn't a fool. He knew that his Eternity Springs friends considered Celeste's advice to be golden.

“When you are lost in life, listen to your friends. Their caring will light the path so you can look inside your heart to where your angel waits—a bright, warm joy ready to light your path and show you the way home.”

Daniel smiled. “Words of wisdom, there.”

“You remember them.”

“I will, Celeste. I promise.”

“Excellent. Now, I'll let you finish your run. I need to get back to Angel's Rest, myself, since we have a busload of knitters arriving this evening for a workshop.”

She gunned her engine as she departed. Daniel watched her go, her words of advice echoing through his mind. The woman had a way about her that he found soothing to his spirits.

He no sooner resumed his run than his phone vibrated once again. He pulled it from his pocket hoping that Nic was calling with an update. A positive news update, that was. A bad report might just have him throwing himself off the mountain. But instead of Eternity Springs' veterinarian, the person on the other end of the line was a former coworker on the Boston force who was calling in a marker. Within minutes, Daniel headed back down the hill.

At Angel's Rest, he took a quick shower, threw clothes in his suitcase, and headed for the vet clinic in order to check on Soupy in person and arrange boarding.

“She's doing fine,” Nic told him. “Resting comfortably.”

“Outstanding.”

“Barring the unforeseen, you can pick her up tomorrow afternoon.”

“About that…” He explained about the unanticipated trip. “Will it be a problem to board her?”

“Oh, those poor parents.” Nic grimaced sympathetically. “I will keep them—and you—in my prayers. Of course Soupy can stay with us. Don't worry about her one little bit. Feel free to check on her whenever you'd like.”

“Thanks, Nic. You're a lifesaver, literally.”

He was headed back toward his car when the Callahan twins blew past him, their mouths running as fast as their feet. They bounded up the steps, calling, “Mom! Mom! Guess what.”

“Girls!” Gabe Callahan called as he sauntered along in his daughters' wake. “Say excuse me to Mr. Garrett.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Garrett,” a pair of voices shouted in unison. “Mom! You'll never believe what Dad did.”

From inside the vet clinic, he heard Nic say, “Oh, I suspect I will too believe it.”

Daniel tore his gaze away from the door through which the twins had disappeared, and when he met Callahan's gaze, the question just popped out. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Move on.” Before Gabe had a chance to reply, Daniel closed his eyes and gave his head a shake. This was Celeste's fault. “I'm sorry. That's a personal question. I shouldn't—”

“I think I know what this is about.” Gabe studied Daniel with a knowing look. “I hear you have a thing going with Shannon.”

A thing?
I guess that's as good a name for this as anything.
“It's something. It's complicated.”

“Women always are.”

His tone wry, Daniel observed, “Now there's an observation for Celeste's book.”

“I heard about that project, too. I bet it'll be a best seller.”

“Look, never mind about the question. I don't know why I asked.” Then, honesty compelled him to say, “Actually, I do know. I did something stupid.”

“Ah, that I can understand. I do stupid all the time.”

“Most men do. But you and I have a bit of a different perspective.”

“We do have a terrible thing in common—the loss of our boys. We've walked in each other's shoes.”

“Exactly,” Daniel said.

“You can talk to me and I'll understand.”

“Except guys don't talk, which I guess is part of the problem.” Daniel's mouth twisted ruefully. “Celeste told me to listen to my friends.”

“She is one smart cookie. So is Hope. After Gabi's wedding she asked me to talk to you if I had a chance. She's been worried about you. Want to go around to my sports shack and let me beat you at a game of billiards? I'll tell you what a dumbass I was when I met Nic.”

“What's a sports shack?” Daniel asked, more to give himself time to consider the question than due to curiosity.

“I think ‘man cave' is a stupid term. I had toy room envy after Cam built his, so I built one of my own.”

Daniel glanced toward his car. Did he really want to do this? Today? When he was so uncertain and confused?

Yeah, he did. Shannon was having his baby. The sooner he came to terms with that, the better for all three of them. “Sports shack. I like it. Yes, I have time to whip your ass on a pool table. Just one game, though. I'm on my way out of town. I'm on the first plane out of Gunnison in the morning.”

Gabe called to Nic to tell her where he'd be, and then led the way around to the stand-alone building in his backyard. Inside, he flipped a power switch and four different pinball games flashed to life. A stained-glass fixture that Daniel pegged as Cicero's work hung above the billiard table. “Sweet,” Daniel said.

“An indulgence.” Gabe grabbed two beers from the refrigerator, handed one to Daniel. “I work on improving my skills whenever I can steal a few moments away. When my brothers visit we have pinball wars. Matt is our family's pinball wizard, but I'm determined to unseat him. Choose your stick, Garrett.”

They lagged for the break and Daniel ended up playing solids. He sank two before turning the table over to Gabe.