Home to Laura

chapter FIFTEEN



IN AUGUST, LAURA ENTERED her second trimester and her energy returned in spades.

She hired a contractor to start work on the shop next door and, thanks to the new staff in the café, had plenty of time to spend in her new space once she finished her baking and cleaning up for the day.

She immersed herself in the work, reveled in the noise, the mess, the “it gets worse before it gets better” state of renovations and the joy of making something new out of something tired.

When they started removing old plaster, the workers ordered her to get out. They were right. The last thing she needed was to expose herself and the baby to plaster dust.

They were stripping the far wall down to brick and leaving it bare, a look Laura had always loved. Excitement bubbled up inside of her like a pot of her finest Colombian on the brew.

“Can’t wait to see it when it’s finished. You guys stop in later for cold drinks and sandwiches. I’ll tell Tilly it’s all on the house.”

One of the men made a comment she didn’t quite catch, but by his friendly leer, she guessed he’d been making a pass. Even four months along in her pregnancy, she still got her fair share of male attention. After the months of morning sickness and feeling like an old hag, her heart did a happy skip and tumble.

She’d stopped wearing pants because she couldn’t get the top buttons done up anymore. Dresses made a lot more sense.

Someday soon, though, she was going to have to buy maternity clothes.

She laughed, closed the door, stepped onto Main Street...and bumped into a hard male chest.

She glanced up. Nick Jordan.

* * *

NICK HELD HIS ARMS away from his body so Laura wouldn’t spill either his coffee in one hand or the chocolate éclair in a serviette in the other, but he couldn’t stop her from piling headlong into him.

She looked up at him, her expression momentarily unguarded, a smile in her clear hazel eyes, laughter on her lovely lips.

She sparkled, everything that he’d seen wrong with her—the weepiness, the fatigue, the regret—gone, all of it, every last ounce, replaced by energy, happiness, joy.

Dear God she was gorgeous, more alive than any woman he’d ever known. And so tempting.

She stepped away, almost shyly. “Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

“It’s okay.” It looked as though she wanted to say more, but didn’t. He wanted to stay here with her for a while, to hold her close for a second, to drink in that joy that had her twinkling like a glowworm. He cast about for something to say. Anything.

“The café’s going well. The ladies are working out. It didn’t take me long to get this.” He showed her what he’d just picked up.

She smiled. “I always say, you want a job done right, hand it over to a middle-aged woman.”

“How are the renovations going?”

“Great! Want to see?”

She opened the door without waiting for his response, like a child showing off a toy.

Dust flew toward them and Nick wrapped the arm that held the éclair around her waist and hauled her back outside.

She waved a hand in front of her face. “Wow, those guys are moving fast.”

“Go get a coffee,” he said impulsively. “Meet me over there.” He pointed to a park bench across the street.

“You want to have coffee with me?”

He nodded. “I want to know how things are going.” He swallowed. “How the baby is.” He met her gaze. “How you are.”

“Okay.” She gifted him with a smile he’d never seen before, not for him at any rate, not joyful or sexy. Just sweet.

When she went into the bakery, he crossed the street and sat on the bench, opened his coffee and took a sip. He studied the town.

Main Street used to be lined with old shops that had already been tired when Nick left for Seattle thirteen years ago.

A half dozen years ago, town council had put their heads together and had come up with this idea to bring in tourists—update and upgrade all of the shops. Bring in new business with the offer of cheap rent and low taxes.

Several trendy clothing shops had moved in. An upscale organic market had opened up. Tammy had transformed an old gift shop into a treasure palace that Nick had seen for himself was packed on Saturdays and Sundays.

The town had decided on a Victorian theme to match the Accord B and B. Imagine Nick’s surprise to find, when he’d stayed there and had expected the worst, that it was an exceptionally fine and gracious hotel with an excellent menu.

The businesses had taken that Victorian theme and had made it fresh and new—a mix of old-world charm and new-world flash.

He’d noticed around town that homes were gussied up with gardens, some with plaques that announced wins in garden competitions. Verandas were bedecked with hanging baskets of ferns and trailing vines and riotous floods of flowers.

Strategically placed around town were murals painted by a local artist depicting scenes from the town’s past.

An old train engine restored to perfection and parked at the far end of the street was a nod to the railway, the source of Ian Accord’s wealth. Without the railroad baron’s wealth and bringing a spur line to this part of Colorado more than a hundred years ago, the town wouldn’t exist.

Apparently, town council had decided in the spring that park benches should be stationed along Main, beside huge stone planters filled with annuals to beautify the street. It worked.

Tourists flocked to town all summer.

Nick could almost swear the feeling clogging his chest was pride for his hometown.

His gaze swept the street and landed on Laura as she walked toward him. Her legs drew his eye because, really, they were the prettiest legs he’d ever seen. Bar none. He’d thought that as a teenager and he still thought it now.

“Like what you see?” she asked.

He grinned and openly stared at her legs. “Oh, yeah.”

“I was talking about the town.” She sat beside him and put a tall glass of lemonade on the bench between them.

She unwrapped a sandwich made on dense homemade bread that looked as if it was filled with seeds and nuts and healthy stuff.

The sandwich was sliced chicken covered with a lot of vegetables.

He glanced at her lemonade. “No coffee?”

“Nope. Until the baby is born, there’ll be no caffeine.” She sighed. “And no wine. I like a good glass of wine.”

So did Nick. For the next twenty minutes, they discussed wines.

“Stop doing that,” he said.

“Doing what?” she asked, her drink arrested halfway to her mouth.

“Being interesting. Having things in common with me. Making me like you.”

She laughed. “Poor Nick. You don’t want to like me, do you?”

He shook his head. “If you weren’t pregnant, I’d be all over you, but I don’t want another baby and I don’t want another wife and, no, I don’t want to like you.”

“I know.”

Her understanding embarrassed him. “The baby scares me.”

“It scares me, too. I mean, I’ll love the daylights out of her—”

“It’s a girl?”

“I don’t know. That’s just what I call her. I don’t want to know until he or she is born.”

“I like things to be planned and organized ahead of time.”

“Not me. I like surprise.” She placed her hand on her belly. “Although this was a big one that really threw me for a loop.”

She shifted on the bench until she was facing him more fully. “I’ve come to terms with how this happened. I’ve let go of regret. I’m putting my heart into having this baby alone and giving her a good life.”

“Laura, what I said before, at Ty’s, about contacting my lawyer. Don’t do that. Talk to me. I’ll give you child support. I’ll be generous.”

“You just can’t escape your heritage, can you, Nick?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You tried to escape this town and your background, but you just can’t. You turned yourself into a cold-blooded businessman, but when push comes to shove with me and this baby, your natural generous Jordan spirit comes out. You can’t help being one of those Jordan boys.”

“I used to hate being ‘one of those Jordan boys.’”

“I always sensed that, but the longer you’re staying here this summer, the more you’re growing out of your discomfort. Being a Jordan boy is not a bad thing. It’s special, Nick. Look at the good men that Gabe and Ty are. What’s embarrassing about them? They’re fine men. Don’t be afraid to embrace who you really are.”

She stood and took their garbage to a bin nearby, her flowered summer dress swirling around her thighs.

He was still uncomfortable with his past, but being involved with the town, coaching basketball and offering the youth an education if they wanted it, was changing him. Relaxing him. Or forcing him to relax, which was a good thing.

The headaches he’d been suffering all winter were nonexistent now. His shaky stomach was now rock solid.

Opening up to the town had done him good. Even more rewarding had been opening up to Emily—one of the best things he’d ever done in his life.

Helping Mort to overcome his dependence on alcohol had been fulfilling.

But laying himself bare to Laura that one night had upset and confounded and angered...and pleased him. It had given him a ridiculous amount of pleasure.

He was on a journey for which he had no road map, leaving him vulnerable but strangely unwilling to turn back and return to his starting point.

She sat back down on the bench.

“How much longer are you staying in town?”

“It’s supposed to be another couple of days.”

“Might as well stay until the end of the summer. It’s only another couple of weeks. Or you could consider moving here since your daughter loves it so much.”

After firing that salvo, she left.

He struggled to breathe steadily. Move here? Live here?

The woman was insane if she thought this was his destiny.

He might be on a journey, and he might be having fun here this summer, but surely the end of it wasn’t Accord, Colorado, the town he’d wanted to leave his entire childhood? The town he couldn’t wait to kiss goodbye after high school?

Weren’t journeys supposed to lead us forward, not backward?

The town had changed, yes, and so had he. It was pretty and popular with tourists, but, when it came down to it, Nick’s favorite view of it was still in a rearview mirror.

* * *

AFTER THAT, NICK PUT everything he had into resisting everything the town had to offer. There would be no more extensions of the holiday. The second Davis returned to Accord, he and Emily were heading home.

Move here, my ass.

It’s a nice place to visit, but I don’t want to live here.

When he set his mind to something, it was hard to shake him.

He coached basketball and encouraged his boys to give their all. He pushed himself on the court with them in drills. He shouted and supported and cajoled at the next game until they won.

The townspeople came out and supported the team and him as coach. That was all he would take from them.

Where a week ago, he’d reveled in the feeling of belonging, now he drew away, set himself apart again. He appreciated their support, but that was all.

Laura sat in the front row, cheering on Salem.

He refused to look at her, or to acknowledge her. Look at what happened when he had sex with her. She got pregnant, dragging him into a drama that would last a lifetime.

Look what a simple conversation with her got him—an exhortation to move here. To live here. To make Accord his home.

No way.

Never.

Wasn’t going to happen.

He was a man who looked forward, not backward.

His life was in Seattle, in the business he ran so well, and with the daughter he adored. He didn’t need this town, the townspeople or another child.

His life was perfect the way it was.

At their next practice, Jamie Cosgrove came to tell him he wouldn’t be able to finish basketball camp.

“Why the hell not?” Nick knew that Jamie loved it. The kid was damn good, too.

“I’m in summer school for math, but I’m not getting it. I failed during the school year, and I’m flunking out of summer classes, too.”

The boy looked miserable.

“My mom and dad said I could take basketball only if I passed math and I’m not, so I have to quit.”

“No way,” Nick said. “I’ll talk to your parents.”

Nick was good at math. It was one of his skills as a problem-solver. He loved the challenge.

The next day, he sat down with Jamie and reviewed everything that Jamie needed to understand to pass the final exam, went over it and over it again, spent hours with the boy, until Jamie understood enough to pass.

The kid did. He brought in sixty percent on the test.

And he stayed in the basketball camp.

Nick had loved helping out the kid. He resisted yet another pull toward staying in town.