Laughter caught her attention as she bent to check on Lottie, but the baby had already settled herself back to sleep in her car seat carrier. Caitlyn lugged her over to the next rack which was filled with jeans and looked for a couple of pairs to try on, trying not to let her gaze stray to the two young women looking at jewelry on the far side of the store.
“…still hasn’t told anyone who the father is,” she heard Lilian Frank say.
“Maybe she doesn’t know who he is.” That was Brittany Wallace.
They were talking about her. Gossiping about her. It hurt, even though she told herself to ignore it. She’d never been friends with either of them, so maybe she should have expected it, but she didn’t deserve that kind of treatment. She hadn’t slept around; she’d just lost her head once. Both she and Lottie would pay for it for a long time.
“Want me to start a fitting room for you?”
Caitlyn handed over the pairs of jeans she’d found to Storm Hall, who owned the store. With her waist-length blond hair and penchant for sarongs and halter tops, the California native always seemed out of place in Chance Creek, but the women in town were in her debt for offering them a new venue for shopping. “Thanks.”
“I saw you looking at this dress. Isn’t it cute? Why don’t you try it on, too?” She lifted the pretty garment from the rack and held it out.
“I don’t have anywhere to wear it.” But Storm had already added it to the pile and Caitlyn followed her to the fitting rooms, carrying Lottie’s car seat along with her.
“Let me keep an eye on Lottie. You go try things on.” Storm held out her hand and Caitlyn passed her the car seat.
“Thanks.” She appreciated the chance to change without fear of bumping Lottie’s seat and waking her up. She hurried, though, afraid to take up too much of Storm’s time. She didn’t know the woman well, and while she’d always been friendly, she did have other customers to wait on. Including Lilian and Brittany.
She tried on the jeans first, and was relieved when one pair fit like they were made for her. She’d been lucky with her figure, which thankfully bounced back after she’d given birth to Lottie, and she liked her thick chestnut brown hair, too, although these days she never had time to do more than shove it up into ponytails and messy buns. She was less fond of her face. Wide set eyes made her look too innocent and her smile always seemed crooked to her. She wouldn’t have minded a more patrician nose, either, but like her mother said, the one she had got the job done.
Satisfied with her choice, she tried on the dress next. As soon as she pulled it over her head, she knew it had been a mistake to let Storm hang it in the fitting room. It was perfect, as she’d known it would be. As she twisted and turned to take in her reflection from all angles, she swallowed the resentment that rose within her. It wasn’t fair that Lottie’s father got off scot free while she raised her daughter alone. She wouldn’t give up Lottie for the world—it was just so lonely sometimes.
“Come out and let me see that dress,” Storm said.
“Okay.” She bit back a sigh and opened the door.
“Wow! That looks fantastic on you. Look at your legs—they’re a mile long!”
Caitlyn grew aware of Lilian and Brittany’s silence and realized they were looking at her too. Brittany leaned over and whispered into Lilian’s ear. Lilian tittered.
Caitlyn’s face grew warm. To hell with them. They were too bored with their own lives to do anything but pick on her. She was allowed to have something pretty even if she’d made a mistake once. A mistake that had brought the most precious thing she’d ever known into her life. “I’ll take it.”
“Good! Get changed and I’ll ring you up.”
Caitlyn’s defiant mood lasted long enough to get her out the door, but once she was back in her second-hand Chevy Geo, her bravado deflated. What good was a dress that would sit forever in her closet?
No matter how pretty she was, no man would look at her now.
Chapter Two
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“TAKE AARON FOR a second, would you?”
Ben gripped the squirming bundle Mason suddenly thrust into his arms and held it at arm’s length. “What am I supposed to do with him?”
“Hold him!” Mason’s frustration was evident and Ben knew why. The tractor he was supposed to use for the morning’s chore had quit working, and his wife, Regan, had passed him the baby just moments ago on her way to a dentist appointment.