Daddy in the Making

chapter Three

The next morning, Rita finished putting Kristy in a leotard for “Job Day” at the preschool. It was Dress Up Week, and right now, at least, Kristy was dressed as a ballerina, her dream career for when she grew up. Last week it’d been a cowgirl like her aunt Kim, the week before, an astronaut.

She wrangled her daughter’s curls into a bun using a scrunchy. “Tomorrow you get to wear a princess costume for Royalty Day.”

“Pancake Day comes after.” Kristy was admiring a beaded pink bracelet around her wrist. “What do I wear for that?”

“Your cutest pajamas, my dear.” Rita kissed Kristy’s cheek, lingering, loving the sweet smell of her. She still had that little-girl scent, sugar and spice and everything nice, and she hoped it would never go away.

When Conn had walked with her to the preschool yesterday, Rita had at first been reluctant to have him along while she picked up her daughter. But since she’d told him about Kristy “that night,” a part of her genuinely wanted to see if he would remember. And if he would get the same look on his face that he’d had after she’d revealed that she was the mother of a four-year-old.

But that was where she’d stopped with the honesty. She’d also had a total knee-jerk, ultradefensive reaction when he’d asked about her little baby bump; she’d outright lied to him that the child wasn’t his.

Right afterward, she’d known it wasn’t the right thing to do. He was the father. Yet he was also a very scattered man who wouldn’t be remotely reliable. He might even be another Kevin, so making Conn think that this was someone else’s baby seemed to be the safest choice for both of them.

Even so, Rita kept picturing Conn as he’d been in that bed, while he smiled down at her as if the news about her having a daughter already didn’t bother him at all.

“A little girl with your hair and eyes,” he’d said before caressing her again, leading her into a place where she could hope and love and forget the past.

Would he be able to show that kind of affection for a surprise baby? Kevin sure hadn’t.

Kristy hopped toward her bedroom door. “Can I do the computer now? We brushed my teeth!”

“You sure can.” Kristy often got sidetracked by everything but getting ready in the morning, so Rita had found that dangling the reward of using the laptop computer was incentive for her to stay focused.

They went to the kitchen table where Rita directed the computer to a kid-friendly page with Barbie games and went to her room to finish her own toilette.

The top floor of the hotel had always been the caretaker’s quarters and, even though the property had been handed down, generation after generation, Rita’s own family hadn’t actually lived in the suite, which was decorated with the same Victorian furniture and antiques that gave the rest of the hotel its Old West feel. It’d been too small for two parents and three children when she was younger.

But it was just right for her and Kristy and another one on the way. The three of them.

She didn’t stop to think about how it might’ve seemed a little more crowded with Kevin, had he stuck around. Or with any other man.

As she got to her bathroom, then pinned back her hair with a barrette, she tried not to think about Conn, but it was impossible not to. What would’ve happened if he hadn’t gotten in that accident? Would he have come back?

How long would he have stayed?

Heart muted, she told herself to stop dwelling on it. Instead, she forced her attention to the task of applying a little blush, then eye shadow, mascara, which she seemed low on, and pink lipstick. Then she stifled a yawn as she went to the personal calendar she kept posted on the refrigerator in the kitchen area. It mainly showed Kristy’s upcoming activities: Job Day, a slumber party tonight with Aunt Kim, Royalty Day, Pancake Day, dance and baton lessons.

All this in addition to her own schedule, which included a doctor’s appointment this week, maid-of-honor duties for Violet’s wedding this weekend, then Thanksgiving next week. She would definitely have to begin working in more time for her and her unborn baby—nap time so she wouldn’t be stressed, a little light exercise time...

Rita thought about the looks she’d been getting around town recently as she strolled the boardwalk, her tummy just beginning to show. Some glanced at her and smiled. Others had an expression on their faces as if thinking, “She never learns, does she?”

Another unplanned pregnancy. And the thing was, Rita was such a careful person. Always had been, too.

With Kevin, she’d been engaged. She hadn’t seen him for a while, because he’d needed to relocate near Houston for a job in some natural-gas fields because of the kaolin-mine closure. She’d been so young then, so unsuspecting about how life could go wrong, and she’d thought that she and Kevin would always love each other, that neither of them would ever change.

But he’d grown distant after taking the new job. It’d been a gradual thing, with him being more withdrawn during his weekend visits, with him complaining more and more about the mine closure and how life wasn’t fair. Kevin had never done well with change.

Yet Rita had merely told herself that he would get used to life as she worked her rear off in the hopes of taking time away from the hotel and attending college. She had loved him as she had during high school, when they’d been sweethearts, and after graduation, when they’d kept on seeing each other, saving their money for when they would have a family one day.

Then, one night, during a rushed bout of weekend lovemaking, something had happened. Her diaphragm hadn’t been inserted as it should’ve been—at least, that was the doctor’s guess. She’d gotten pregnant before getting married and...

Dammit, Rita, we’re not ready for a family.

Now, at the memory of Kevin’s reaction to the news, Rita turned away from the calendar. Why did it all have to come back?

Kevin demanding that she rethink their situation in life. Kevin “suggesting” that she “take care” of their “mistake.” Her finding out that their life had been a lie all along when he told her he had been seeing another woman in his “other home,” the one he lived in during the week for his job.

Him leaving Rita as an unmarried mother for that other woman.

Blowing out a breath, Rita told herself that she’d been careful with Conn, too—at least physically. It was just that, when they’d used protection, there’d been one time when the condom had slipped a little after they’d made love and he was pulling out of her...

She rubbed her belly under her work skirt. No matter the circumstances, she was already head over heels for this child. Like Kristy, this baby would be easy to love, to take care of, to hold and kiss and treasure.

I’ll always be here, she thought, softly patting her tummy. But who needs a daddy you can’t trust?

She kept telling herself that Conn didn’t even know who he was, so what kind of father could he be? As far as she even knew, she’d gone to bed with a fantasy—the Conn Flannigan who had seemed just as taken with her as she’d been with him that night.

That fantasy man didn’t exist, though.

Walking down the hall, she heard the sounds from the computer and went over to Kristy, bending down to plant a long kiss on top of her head. “Come on, sweetie. Time to go.”

“One more minute?” the little girl asked.

“Nope. You’ve still got a half hour banked for computer time this week, though, and you can use it later.”

A jaunty knock sounded on the door, and Kristy bounded over to open it. As Rita shut down the computer, Kristy squealed.

“Aunt Kim!”

When Rita glanced over she saw her younger sister, dressed in old boots and jeans and a threadbare blue T-shirt. Kim was wearing her dark curly hair in a ponytail, seeming every inch the tomboy of the family. She lifted Kristy up, twirled her around, then set her back down and used her forefinger to tweak the child’s nose.

“Why, if it isn’t Tina Ballerina,” Kim said.

“Kristy Ballerina.”

Both Kim and Rita laughed. “Thanks for walking her to school,” she said to Kim on the way out the door.

“No problem. It’s my day off, anyway, and Nick’s got everything covered.”

Good ol’ big bro.

As Rita shut the door, she braced herself for what the day would bring. Would wagging tongues be spreading news about Conn, with the way he was following her around and holding on to that R necklace she’d always worn, ever since she’d bought it from the Whitefeather Jewelry Boutique with her first real paycheck from the hotel?

She hoped he’d finally gone home. At least, part of her did. The other part of her was just plain masochistic, she supposed, because it yearned for him, even after all that had happened.

They all went down the stairs, coming to the lobby, which was empty at this time of the morning.

Except for one person sitting in a velvet-upholstered chair.

Wouldn’t you know it, at the sight of Conn, Rita’s belly spun into a whir of desire and anxiety. His hat was perched on one bent knee as he perused a brochure about tourist sites in Houston. His hair was so thick and tempting that she bunched her fists, wishing she didn’t want to touch him so badly. He’d also taken a razor to his face, which was freshly shaven, emphasizing a strong jaw and cleft chin.

She shivered, thinking of how he’d held her, how he’d been inside of her. How he’d looked down at her as the dawn had rolled through the crack in the curtains. She’d never seen a look like that before, not even from Kevin, and it’d seemed so real.

Real enough to make her believe that he would stay forever.

He glanced up from his reading, as if he had Rita Radar. “Morning,” he said ever so casually.

Rita was desperate to make it seem as if he were just another customer. “Morning.”

Kristy wasn’t fooled, though. By the way she was pressing against her aunt Kim’s leg, checking Conn out, she recognized him from yesterday.

Rita kissed her daughter goodbye, then thanked Kim again. There weren’t any employees coming in to cover the front desk this morning, so it was up to Rita to do it.

“So we’ll see you tomorrow,” Kim said, heading for the exit with Kristy in tow. Then to Kristy, “We’re going to have fun at our slumber party tonight.”

“Yeah!” Kristy said.

Since Kristy visited Kim frequently, there was no need for packing this morning—Kristy had a drawer of clothing, plus a toothbrush, over at her aunt’s cabin.

Rita went over and gave Kristy an extra-big kiss. “Call me tonight?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“We’ll check in before we have our Caillou marathon.” Kim gave Conn a curious glance before ushering Kristy to the door.

As for Kristy, she just kept checking out the cowboy.

When they left, the room seemed way too quiet. Rita thought about turning on the radio, until Conn got out of his seat and ambled over to the desk.

“I want to thank you for yesterday,” he said. “It helped.”

“Good to hear.”

Her pulse jittered. The last thing she needed was for all her hot-blooded, ill-thought-out feelings to come bursting up right now.

Good thing his next words put a stop to them. “I keep remembering bits and pieces about that night but... There are things that go along with them that I’m not really understanding, Rita.”

Oh, the sound of her name. He had a way of saying it, deep and low. Of owning it, somehow.

But she’d already come to the conclusion during the four months he’d been gone that she’d never be owned—not by another man, not by the anguish she’d managed to tame.

She decided to duck any deeper conversation. It was safer that way. “So your memory’s been jarred?”

“Somewhat.” His brow furrowed, as if he were on the edge of saying or thinking something that wasn’t quite gelling for him. “I could really use more of your help, though. You seem to be some kind of key for me.” He added that devastating smile that had gotten her into bed in the first place. “What do you say?”

That smile tugged at her so hard that she had to grip the counter.

He added, “There’d even be a good dinner it in for you after you finish with work.”

“Then you’ll go home?”

He laughed. “I made arrangements this morning to take some time off from the ranch, so I’m not in any hurry. But I swear I won’t bother you anymore after this. I’d just like to wander around town, see if there’s anything else here that’ll tweak my brain.”

“Goody.”

He ignored her sarcasm. “Don’t tell me you’re not free tonight, Rita. I was sitting right here when your sister said she’d be having a slumber party with Kristy.”

Shoot. Kim had mentioned the aunt/niece outing right in front of him. But there were a million other excuses to get out of this—like her final dress fitting for Vi’s wedding early tomorrow, for one. Resting her tired feet, for another.

Yet... She touched her belly. A baby. His baby. Maybe she owed him or her one dinner with the father, just for some closure and a chance to tell him the truth—if she could bring herself to do it.

She gripped the counter even tighter with her free hand. Thing was, she didn’t trust herself around this man. Whenever he was within range, her blood heated, her heart twirled, her body urged her to do things she shouldn’t even be dreaming of repeating with him.

Ground rules. Maybe she should just make some for him and for her.

“If we had dinner tonight,” she said, “it wouldn’t be anything...”

“Romantic?” He nodded. “I understand.”

She couldn’t decipher his expression, but the sinking sensation in her chest was real easy to read. Had she actually expected him to beg her to take up where they’d left off? He had to be just as wary of coming back to face her as she was to see him, and just because he was here didn’t mean he...

Well, that he remembered that night and the connection she’d thought they had, even just after several hours together.

He backed away from the counter, seemingly satisfied now. While putting his hat back on, he said, “What time’s good for you?”

It’d been a long while since she’d gotten ready to go out socially after work, so she calculated quickly. “Six?”

“Six it is.”

“There’s a good fish shack by Dempsy Lake, south of town. The Levee, they call it.” It was very public, although a little bit off the beaten track in St. Valentine itself, and usually populated by families during the afternoons she’d been there.

“Sounds good.” He sent her that grin again.

As he tipped his hat to her and went out the doorway, she held her breath.

And, for the rest of the day, it felt as if she never let it go.

* * *

The sky was rumbling softly when Conn drove Rita in his rented Ford truck down a winding dirt road to The Levee.

It was a semi-awkward drive, too, with the radio on, humming old Trisha Yearwood songs in place of conversation. He figured they’d have enough of that at the restaurant, so he didn’t push Rita into talking.

In fact, he didn’t think it wise to push her into anything—not this skittish woman. And if he had to take half of their meal to get her comfortable, he would sure do that, too.

But truthfully, he also didn’t mind the notion of merely spending time with her. His libido certainly didn’t object. Hell, it’d just about gone crazy when Rita had met him in front of the hotel, where she’d been waiting in a long flowing dark skirt and silver sweater with a thick wrap, perfect for a moonlit, rainy fall night. Her hair was pulled back in a barrette, wildly curling.

When they arrived at the fish shack, he scanned the stretched cabin that perched over the lake, which glittered under the fall of tiny raindrops. Pines surrounded the water, lending a heady fragrance.

He stood back as Rita took the stairs up to the wraparound porch, with its wooden rockers and a cigar-store totem pole out front, then he followed. Inside, the furnishings were simple, but it was the view that dominated the room.

Long windows, the shimmering lake.

Candlelit romance.

Rita seemed to realize that she might’ve picked the wrong location as they obeyed the sign by the hostess desk saying, “Take a seat.”

“It sure doesn’t look like this during the afternoon,” she said quietly, heading for a lakeside table away from most of the other diners in the room, who’d gravitated toward the side where the view of the water was the best.

He pulled out a simple knotted-pine chair with a gingham cushion and waited for her to sit. Then he went to his own place across the small table and grabbed menus from the silver holders, giving one to her first.

“You come here often?” he asked.

“Not since...” She shrugged. “It’s been a while.”

Had she come here on dates? With friends back when she hadn’t shouldered the burden of running the hotel?

The waiter, with his blue-and-white checked shirt and a gap-toothed smile, was quick in taking their orders.

Rita fidgeted with her paper napkin before spreading it over her lap. Yeah, it definitely wasn’t time to grill her. She looked ready to jump out of her chair at his slightest misstep.

“St. Valentine looks like a nice place to have grown up,” he said. A totally neutral, totally safe topic.

She seemed surprised that he hadn’t rushed right into the meat of the matter. “It was very nice...when I was a kid. It was almost like the most beautiful chapters of a book like To Kill a Mockingbird—the parts without Boo Radley and Atticus Finch’s court case. Summers in swimming holes, adventures in old, abandoned houses. Things like that.”

“It was nice?” Was he treading on thin ice even by asking? Was he getting too personal for what his business was with her?

She didn’t seem to mind. “I say it was nice because the older I got, the more I realized just how small the town is. The favorite pastime tends to be getting into other people’s business. But I guess that comes with having everyone see you grow up and take part in your life.”

He was about to ask what she could’ve done to whip up any gossip in the past, before this mysterious pregnancy, but then he thought of Kristy, and of how that father seemed to be out of the picture, too.

Rita was playing with her napkin again, so he got the signal and shifted the topic.

“You said that your family has always owned that hotel.”

“Right.” There—she let go of the napkin, smiled up at the waiter as he brought them the drinks they had ordered. “My great-grandpa came over from Portugal with my grandmother in the early 1930s. That was just after Tony Amati officially made it St. Valentine.”

Hell, this wasn’t awkward at all. “So you’re a St. Valentine institution.”

“Most everyone in Old Town is. But the kaolin-mine closure several years ago shook things up. It’s taken years to get back on our feet, and we lost some of our population when the unemployed miners went off to a natural-gas operation near Houston.”

“That’s why Old Town seems like a ghost town?”

“Right. There’s also a social line running between Old Town mining families and the new richies.” She raised an eyebrow. “I guess the Niles clan falls somewhere in the middle.”

He couldn’t believe he’d actually gotten her to talking. “When you run a small business like your family, I guess it doesn’t pay to take sides.”

She glanced out the window as rain tapped against it. The soft candlelight burnished her skin, and he longed to run his fingertips over the smoothness. The slope of her cheekbones fascinated him. So did her lips.

He kept watching them as she spoke, a pit of yearning in his belly.

“I’d ask you all about where you grew up,” she said, “except you already told me.”

And there she was, talking about what he needed her to talk about. She had come around after all.

“Listen, I know that you probably didn’t tell me everything yesterday when we talked because you wanted me to scram, but was there anything else I shared with you that night? Even the smallest detail might trigger another memory.”

She adjusted the silverware in front of her. “I can offer just a few more tidbits. Like when you said something about majoring in procrastination during college while you got an ag business degree. You also said that your grandpa built up your cattle ranch, and after your dad passed on years ago, you and your three brothers took it over, along with your mom. You all have your own parcel of land, a cabin, a place of your own. You sounded...very content.”

The observation sounded distant, though, as if he’d never be able to get to that point again.

“Conn,” she said. “We didn’t spend enough time together for me to know all your ins and outs. Even though...”

“Even though what?”

She pressed her lips together just as the waiter came with their fish-and-chips platters. After he left, she shook a little bit of salt and vinegar onto her meal.

“Rita,” he asked, “did I do something besides take your necklace and tell you I’d be back?”

“Like propose marriage after one night?” She laughed. “No. But I guess I thought there was a...connection.”

The words had tumbled out of her, as if she’d been holding on to them too long and just wanted to get rid of them now. She kept her head down, obviously not wanting to see his expression.

“I don’t know what to say.” He wanted to use a finger to tilt up her chin so he could look into her beautiful, clear gray eyes—as clear as he remembered from that night.

“Don’t feel guilty, Conn. I made it through that day or two of disappointment just fine.”

“I can see that.”

She looked up. Were her eyes a little glassy?

Dammit, he didn’t want her to cry, and anger crawled up inside him. He hated himself for doing this to her. Hated that he didn’t know exactly how he’d felt that night, because his wisps of memory only got him so far.

Hated that he might’ve just been stringing her along, as he’d reportedly done with other women.

So why was there something buzzing around in his chest? What the hell was it that had made her face such an important part of trying to remember—a face powerful enough to have brought him back to St. Valentine?

She ignored her food. “Just so you know, I’m not being remote on purpose. I want to help. It’s only...”

He waited her out, his heart beating.

She sighed. “It’s just how I am.”

And there it was—a major warning. A signal that, even if the candlelight and murmuring rain got to them, nothing would ever happen with Rita again.

Disappointment nipped at him, even though rekindling their brief encounter was the last thing either of them needed.

She continued in the same level voice. “Kristy’s father left me about five years ago. We’d dated throughout high school and then afterward, until we got engaged. Neither of us were well-off. We lived hand-to-mouth, really, and that’s why we took so long to get married. We wanted to save our money—him with his mining job, me with working at the hotel. Then, as you know, the mine closed.”

“But he got a job in the natural-gas field, right?”

“Right. But something significant had already changed for him by then.”

Conn got a bad feeling about where this was going.

“We didn’t plan to get pregnant. I was happy about it. We’d only have to work a little harder to make ends meet. He flipped out, though.”

“Did he...?”

She nodded. “He wanted an abortion. I didn’t. And I couldn’t believe that the man I thought I loved was asking for one. I had no idea who he was anymore. But he kept up the emotional pressure.”

“And he left when he didn’t get his way.”

“He had a bit on the side. Another woman who wasn’t half the trouble Kristy and I would’ve been.” Her gaze was full of shadows. “But that ended up for the best.”

Conn narrowed his eyes. Would the old Conn have taken off, too, in the same situation?

Her face brightened. “I’m raising Kristy by myself. It isn’t easy sometimes, with running the hotel, too, but it’s worth it. And my brother and sister help out as much as they can.”

Their conversation went full circle for him now. “And that’s why St. Valentine stopped being that beautiful summertime place for you—because of how life turned out.”

When she looked into his eyes, he could see that she was more guarded than ever.

“Everyone in town knows how my life turned out, too, down to the last detail, it seems,” she said. “And you know how some people in small towns can be—nosey, judgmental, always thinking they know best for an unmarried woman who should’ve known better than to make trouble for herself.”

“What exactly happened with the father of this baby?” he asked. Anticipation was a cold wire thrumming through him.

Rita hesitated so long that he started to believe she would never answer.

But even before she did, his nerves were screaming.

“This father,” she said, “is just as undependable as my ex-fiancé was, and the last thing I want is to hurt this baby by having him be a part of his or her life.”