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ing, not to her, not to the girl who had her life planned so carefully. She clenched her fists and thought about a baby . . . a baby, for the love of God. It wasn’t just the shame of being pregnant, it was the rest of it as well, that she would bear a child. Hunter’s child. She rested her head in her hands and it felt incredibly heavy. “Help me,” she whispered.
What would that mean for college? Graduate school? Her dreams of becoming a lawyer?
Tears burned in her eyes, but she refused to cry. This was a new person she was thinking about, a part of her and a part of Hunter. A tiny human being growing deep inside her. A baby! Unclenching her fists, she rubbed her flat abdomen, and, through the tears that she couldn’t fight, she gave way to romantic fantasies of marrying Hunter, having the baby, and still going to school. So she’d have to work and Hunter, his dreams of owning his own ranch would be put on hold, but just because they were having a child, didn’t mean it was the end of the world.
No, in fact, it might just be the beginning.
Still, she was scared to death. She would take an in-home pregnancy test, then if it showed positive, make an appointment at the local county hospital, find out for certain if this was a false alarm, then give the news to Hunter. How would he take it, she wondered, knowing how he felt about his own father—well, stepfather really.
Hunter Riley wasn’t Dan’s biological son as everyone seemed to think. No, Dan Riley had married Hunter’s mother when Hunter was barely two years old. He remembered no other man in his life nor had Dan treated him any differently than if he’d been his own flesh and blood.
Hunter had confessed to Miranda that he didn’t think he had another father, that no man could take the place of Dan Riley; therefore, he’d never try to find out who had sired him. That secret had been kept by his mother to her dying day, when Hunter was nearing his twelfth birthday and ovarian cancer had claimed her. At her funeral in the small Presbyterian church just outside of town, he’d half-expected some middle-aged guy to step up to him and claim that he was Hunter’s natural father, but it hadn’t happened, and, apparently, Hunter’s biological dad didn’t know he existed or just didn’t give a damn. Either way, Hunter, didn’t really care.
Miranda stood, walked to the window and opened it wide enough to let in the breeze. The smell of roses and honeysuckle mingled to drift up to her.
What if Hunter didn’t want to marry her? What if his dreams were more important than she was, more important than having a child of his own? What if he insisted upon an abortion? Holding on to the window casing for support, she swallowed hard and realized that she knew so little about him, much too little to think of marriage.
And yet she loved him. Things would work out; they always did. She rubbed her belly and smiled. Corny as it sounded, maybe a baby was just what they needed.
“What’s this?” Paige asked, her eyes bright as Kendall handed her a foil box with a big pink ribbon.
“A surprise.”
“But it’s not my birthday or Christmas or anything.”
“I know,” Kendall said, taking a seat on the desk chair and linking her fingers over one knee. “I just saw something I thought you’d like. Go ahead. Open it.” Paige’s smile was pathetic, just like this cloying room with its canopied bed and matching dresser, vanity, and desk. White with gold trim, pink rosebuds and gingham, lace trim on everything. For what? This oddball of a girl.
Smiling widely, Paige tore open the box, tossing aside the ribbon and tissue paper until she found the prize deep inside—a silver charm bracelet with a single charm—a cat with a curled tail—dangling from the tiny links. “Oh, my,” she whispered, holding the damned thing to her eyes and watching as the kitten swayed rhythmically in front of her nose. For a second Kendall thought the pathetic girl might hypnotize herself. “It’s beautiful.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Oh, no, Kendall,” Paige said, clutching the bracelet as if it were made of huge diamonds and holding it over her heart. “It’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“It’s just a bracelet.”
Paige shook her head and swallowed hard. She blinked as tears filled her eyes. “It’s much more than that. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, just be happy with it,” Kendall said, but she was really thinking the kid’s reaction was all wrong. Hadn’t anyone ever been kind to her? This rich child of Neal Taggert, the only daughter who wore gawd-awful braces and had endured rhinoplasty to ensure her beauty had to have been spoiled rotten. Surely Paige had received tons of gifts over the years.
“This is special because you gave it to me,” Paige explained as she placed the links over her thick wrist and locked the clasp. “Not because you had to, but because you wanted to.”
Kendall felt worse than ever. She had hoped to find a way to secure Paige’s loyalty, of course, but she didn’t want to be in a position of breaking the girl’s heart. Guilt weighed heavily on her shoulders. “It’s not that big a deal.”
Paige’s eyes were filled with adoration. “I wish you were going to be my sister-in-law instead of that stupid Holland girl,” she said, as if she’d read Kendall’s mind. Perhaps the kid was sharper than she looked.
“Me, too, but there’s not much I can do. Harley wants her.”
“Harley’s stupid.”
“You know I love him.”
“Oh, I know.” Paige nodded her head sagely, lank strands of hair moving against her shoulders. “And she doesn’t. Not the way you love him.”
“She couldn’t.” Kendall ran a finger over the edge of Paige’s desk, along the gold trim. “If I could convince him, I would, but, believe me, I’ve tried everything.”
“He just needs to spend more time with you and less with her.” Paige walked over to the mirror and studied her wrist in the reflection, watching the silver cat dance in the sunlight. “I wish she would leave.”
“That won’t happen.” Kendall sighed longingly.
