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No way was she falling asleep, no matter how exhausted she was. She had another day with Porter to replay in her mind. She wrestled with her excitement at finding such a man while wondering at the strange changes that were happening in her life with this child—the responsibilities that she’d face were becoming monumental.
Was she strong enough? Were her arms long enough to fit more people into her life? Would Porter be a millstone around her neck or an anchor that settled her soul?
An anchor. Definitely. No question.
She shot up in bed. They’d be able to do this together. Cadence hadn’t talked about any of this with him, but if they were going to get serious then it was time to ask him what he thought about her baby.
Worries engulfed her at making such a move. He’d been accepting of her, but besides his letter, he hadn’t really mentioned the child, almost like that part of her didn’t exist in his mind. Caught up at the height of an emotionally exhausting day, she felt her stomach dive into a fit of despair like she truly was riding through life on a rollercoaster.
He’d talked about having children, though.
She held onto that thought.
Yes, he had. And just like that, her spirits shot up again.
This was impossible! She couldn’t sleep like this. She pushed out of bed and pulled out another sheet of paper from the desk drawer. Cadence wasn’t going to waste this time in worry. If she couldn’t use the night for what it was meant for, then she’d take advantage of her sleepless state to draw up the perfect plans for Lily’s garden.
She got busy with the patio furniture first, the little details that appealed to her creative side, from hummingbird feeders to arches and secret doors. She placed the greenhouse in the midst of that, to be covered in a festival of color, so that as those faded away into winter, there was a hint to those standing outside of that greenhouse that life existed within, even when the brightest of it had died.
Oh, Lily.
Would that be her fate? Would she die, leaving her beloved ones behind to mourn her?
Cadence dearly hoped that wouldn’t be the future for these blueprints. Lily must live, just like her flowers in the greenhouse. She’d enjoy every blossom that sprang forth from her garden.
Cadence put down her pencil, and feeling like she’d completed at least one thing that she had control over, she went back to bed.
Lily would love her ideas, but she should thank her son—he was the inspiration behind everything that Cadence did now.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Porter had just finished putting the last details on Angel’s car that morning before walking into the kitchen to the shrill sounds of gossiping women.
His mother’s voice soothed over their sharpness like warm honey. “I’m sure Nash really likes Emily. He’d never do anything to put her in harm’s way.”
“That’s not what I heard!” a scandalized woman cried out. She let out a moan like she truly cared. Porter wasn’t fooled. “Poor, dear, Lily,” she said. “This is the last thing that you need. Nash has taken her to some secluded romantic getaway. They’re all alone out there, doing who knows what!”
Porter stopped short. He was tempted to turn around and make his escape, except he heard his mother’s sharp intake of breath. He stayed right where he was.
“What do you suppose they are doing?” another woman said. “The scandal! It’s all anyone can talk about. Papers—not just the local one, my dear—have picked up the story! He’s a national threat.”
Porter brought his eyes to the ceiling. If Emily was involved, they had nothing to worry about.
But the loudest of the “concerned” women let out a sound of dismay. “Your son has gone too far this time, Lily! That’s why I had to come. I knew you couldn’t be alone when news of this hit your family.”
The vulture wanted more gossip to take back to the other tongue-waggers in town.
Porter should rescue his mother.
Squaring his shoulders, he turned the corner, only for the women clucking around his mother to rise up like excited hens at this new development.
“Nash! There you are!” He flinched as Mrs. Lindgren stalked forward in a red polyester dress with padded shoulders. The woman was in her 60s and seemed like she should have something better to do than head up the gossip chain that made up the notorious “Aunts” of Harvest Ranch. Her finger shot into his chest. “A lot of people are looking for you—you, rascal!”
“That’s Porter,” his mother said with some frustration.
“Oh! His twin!” Mrs. Lindgren looked disappointed, until she rallied herself. “Have you heard from your brother? Tell me where he’s taken that dear girl.”
Dear?Porter doubted that the waspish busybody had ever exchanged two words with her dear Emily. “I haven’t talked to him for months,” he said, now happy for it.
