Baby Makes a Match

“What?” Garrett exclaimed. “No, no, that’s not necessary.”

They blithely ignored him.

“Hmm, yes, I think that would be best,” Hypatia mused.

Odelia clapped her hands again. “Room for the two of you and the baby!”

Without warning, Bethany burst into tears. “I’m sorry! Garrett said you were kind, but I never dreamed…I never expected…”

“Now, now,” Hypatia said calmly.

“It has become clear to us,” Magnolia put in, “that the good Lord has ordained Chatam House as a place of sanctuary for those in need. We are only following His dictates, dear.”

“And babies are such fun!” Odelia chirruped.

Bethany laughed, blinking away her tears. “I don’t know how to thank you. I promise I won’t abuse your hospitality. I intend to look for a job right away.”

“Is that wise in your condition?” Odelia worried aloud.

“I was working until I came here,” Bethany told her staunchly. “I can certainly continue.”

“That might not be so easy,” Garrett warned. “It’s one thing to continue working at a job after you become pregnant. It’s another to get someone to hire you when you’re almost six months along.”

“Well, it’s a matter for prayer,” Hypatia said in a tone that clearly indicated the subject was closed for the moment. “Bethany, I’m sure you’d like to freshen up before dinner. Garrett, will you show her the retiring room, then ask Carol to set two extra places at the dining table.”

Garrett nodded. “I’ll get your bags in, too, sis.”

“Chester will help you both settle into your new space later,” Hypatia decreed.

“Father would be so tickled, don’t you think?” Odelia said as Bethany rose and hurried from the room at Garrett’s side.

“The master suite was old Mr. Chatam’s room,” Garrett whispered to Bethany. “He died at the age of ninety-two in nineteen-ninety-nine, and they still speak as if it was yesterday.”

“I don’t care if they set a place for him at the dinner table!” Bethany whispered back. “They’re not that eccentric, and they’re sharp as razors, believe me.”

“Oh, Garrett,” Bethany cried, laying her head on his shoulder, “I’m so glad I came!”

Maybe, she told herself, the Willows family was finally going to come right.

“Well, my dears,” Hypatia said, keeping her voice low, “it looks as though we’re going to have a full house.”

Magnolia nodded, oddly satisfied. She’d known Garrett as a child. After his father had died, Garrett had come around occasionally asking to mow the yard. She’d let him mow for an hour or so, paid him and sent him on his way. After his mother had remarried, he’d started showing up with bruises, but he would never answer Magnolia’s questions about how he’d obtained them. She’d heard rumors, but once she’d asked outright if his stepfather had hit him, Garrett had stopped visiting. Later, when she’d learned that Mrs. Benjamin had been hospitalized and Garrett had assaulted his stepfather, she’d expected the boy to get off with a reprimand. Instead, he’d gone to prison. She had always considered that a grave miscarriage of justice, so when he had approached her in the yard just over two months ago, Magnolia had hired him on the spot. Garrett had quickly become a household favorite. Now, his pregnant sister, Bethany, had come to them. Magnolia definitely felt the hand of God at work.

“Even with Chandler here,” she said, “I don’t see what else we could have done.”

“Oh, of course Bethany has to stay!” Odelia gushed. She bit her lip. “But I know I heard Kaylie say that Garrett’s sister was married.”

Hypatia nodded. “Yes. I recall the same thing.”

“Perhaps they’ve divorced,” Magnolia suggested.

“Perhaps,” Hypatia murmured. “I confess to some curiosity, but all will undoubtedly become clear in time.”

“What God wishes us to know, He will reveal,” Magnolia added with a nod.

“I’m more concerned about Chandler, frankly,” Hypatia went on.

Magnolia, too, was concerned about their nephew. They had hoped at first that his moving in here had signaled a compromise of sorts with his father, who disapproved of both Chandler’s occupation and his partner, Kreger, but something else was obviously afoot, and Chandler hadn’t seemed to know what that was.

“We’ve prayed a long time for him to make certain things right in his life,” Magnolia pointed out. “Maybe the good Lord is forcing his hand a bit.”

“True,” Hypatia agreed.

“Or,” Odelia exclaimed, hunching her shoulders with excitement, “we could have another romance brewing! Wouldn’t that be lovely? Chandler and Bethany and a baby! What fun that would be!”

Magnolia rolled her eyes at her sister. “That’s a stretch.”

“Why? Don’t you think she’ll like Chandler?”

“That’s not the point.”

“I’m sure he’ll like her, and they’ll be living in the same house, after all. Once they get to know each other, anything could happen.”

“Now, now,” Hypatia cautioned sternly, holding up a hand. “We’re getting just a bit carried away here, don’t you think?”

Odelia turned a vexed gaze on her. “You’re the one who always says that God has a reason for everything.”

“Those reasons don’t have to be romantic, though,” Magnolia interjected.

Odelia blinked. “But they could be.”

Hypatia sighed. “Let us leave this subject, please. We don’t want to be assigning motives to God now, do we?”

“I suppose not,” Odelia mumbled. Then she brightened. “But it will still be fun to have a baby in the house. Maybe we can babysit!”

Nodding, Magnolia shared a look with Hypatia, whose lips firmed against obvious laughter. Bowing her head to hide her own smile, Magnolia rolled her eyes again. Oh, to be as joyful as her dear, frothy-headed sister! On the other hand, Mags was supremely satisfied with her own life. The lives of her and her sisters had been, from the shared day of their birth, a life of privilege, which just meant, as Mama and Daddy had always said, that they were obliged by God to do as much good as they possibly could for others.

Lately, God seemed to be bringing those opportunities to do good right to their doorstep. The outcome thus far had been quite rewarding, resulting in two weddings.

While a romance seemed unlikely in this case, whatever God had in mind, Magnolia was sure that it would be, at the least, very interesting.

Sighing wearily, Chandler turned the rig between the gate-posts and aimed it up the rise toward Chatam House. He’d spent the last thirty-six hours fruitlessly trying to catch up with his old buddy and erstwhile partner, Patrick Kreger.

His very first course of action had been to drive straight out to the ranch, where he’d found a family by the name of Cantu in residence. Mr. Cantu had proudly claimed to have purchased the ranch only days earlier. A broken-down old piebald had snuffled around the corral next to the barn, the corral where Chandler had intended to off-load his own horses. Instead, after examining the loan closing papers that Cantu had graciously provided and recognizing Kreger’s signature, Chandler had turned around and hit the road again, managing to keep his temper in check until he was away.

After he’d calmed down, he’d made two phone calls. The first was to his cousin Asher, an attorney, who agreed to see him Monday morning. The second call went to an old friend, Dovey Crawlick, who ran a shoestring animal rescue operation a mile or so southeast of town. She had kindly given Chandler space for his horses at a more-than-reasonable rent and told him that she’d heard Kreger was staying in the Maypearl area.

After following rumors across the state, Chandler eventually wound up calling on Kreger’s elderly great-uncle, from whom Pat had recently requested a large loan and been refused.

“Don’t hold with gambling,” the old man had said mo rosely, “but he said they’d break his legs if he didn’t come up with the cash.”

Chandler had to conclude that Kreger had sold the ranch to cover his gambling debts. That was when Chandler had given up the chase. He’d known, of course, that Kreger was apt to wager a bit here and there, but it hadn’t seemed to be a serious problem. Until now.

In a foul mood, Chandler made his way back to Chatam House in the wee hours of the morning. He couldn’t help thinking about Bethany. Had the aunties allowed her to move into the carriage house with Garrett? He rather doubted that, unless of course the two were married. If they weren’t, they probably soon would be. Then he’d have to see her, them, on a daily basis. With everything that had gone wrong in his life lately, that seemed like adding insult to injury.

Not wanting to rouse the household, he decided to sleep in his truck. It would not be the first time that he’d sacked out in the backseat. He needed to hide his trailer, though. Dovey hadn’t had room for it at her place, but the aunties would not appreciate having a dirty horse hauler parked within sight of the street. Moving mechanically, he backed the trailer through the porte cochere, past the carriage house and around the corner of the building out of sight.

After rolling down all the windows to take advantage of the slight breeze, he crawled into the back cab. He set aside his hat, tugged off his belt and boots and curled up on the seat, his head pillowed on his folded forearms. But peace proved elusive as his mind played restlessly over all he’d learned.

That Pat had sold the ranch out from under Chandler hurt, but the reason hurt just as much. He’d trusted Pat Kreger. He had defended Pat staunchly against his father for years. In the end, however, Hub had been proved right about Kreger, and eventually Chandler would have to deal with that. Just then, though, he was trying to wrap his mind around the fifty-thousand-plus dollars that he’d apparently poured down a bottomless hole.

The thought made him physically ill, his disappointment so deep that it was a constant ache. His whole future had just disappeared! Why hadn’t he known that Pat was out of control? Why had he made so many excuses for his old buddy?

Feeling brainless and foolish, Chandler did the only thing he knew to do. He prayed.

Lord, I need Your help here, he began. I’ve been stubborn and stupid and, boy, am I paying for it. I’ll be paying for some time to come, too. But I deserve it. So I guess first of all I need to ask for Your forgiveness. I really want to do better from now on, to let You guide me. Meanwhile, I’m in a fix. I can’t live off my old aunts. I need some real cash. To get that, I need a new partner, but how do I find a new partner when I’m not even sure I can trust my own judgment anymore? Please give me some real direction here, Lord.

Chandler went on, pouring out his troubles and concerns, facing his deepest fears and failures and beseeching his Lord for aid. He thought of Bethany again. By all appearances, things had turned out well for her, at least. He felt a prick of envy, but whether for her or Garrett, he didn’t know. A little of both, maybe. He drifted into a place of comfort before he could figure it out, and rest found him at last. He slept deeply and completely, his mind a blank, despite the heat and cramped quarters.

Suddenly, bright daylight blinded him. He thought that he must be dreaming, for hands seemed to grapple about his shoulders. Fists closed in the fabric of his shirt, and he instinctively stiffened. The next instant he was being pulled bodily through the open window of the truck cab.

Panicked, he brought his feet up onto the seat and pushed, angling his shoulders through the window, until he could get his hands on the roof of the truck and haul out the rest of the way. He barely got a foot on the ground when a fist slammed into his shoulder. It would have hit his jaw if he hadn’t been in the process of bringing down his second foot.

“Hey!”

He let the blow turn him, his hands coming up defensively, and glimpsed a dark head before a second fist flew his way. Ducking left, he felt knuckles clip his ear. Tucking his chin, Chandler threw a hard right, glancing a blow off his opponent’s ribs. After an answering pop high on the left side of his chest, he started slugging madly. A savvy fighter, the other guy stepped in close, wrapped his arms around Chandler’s shoulders and threw him onto the ground. Chandler made sure that they both went down, twisting to land on his side rather than his back.

“Can’t leave her alone, can you?” a voice growled in his ear as the two wrestled.

“What?” Chandler squawked.

“You’re not going to bounce in and out of her life!”

“Who?”

“Don’t want the kid, but you want her, don’t you?”

“What’re you tal—”

Something hit Chandler on the side of the face and shoulder, something prickly and stiff.

“Ow!”

“Ouch!” yelped the other guy.

Chandler rolled away, becoming aware of a great din, something more than his own grunts and groans and the scrabble of gravel. One sound stood out among the others, the sound of his aunt’s voice.

“Stop that! Stop it right now!”

Realizing that the blows had ceased, Chandler looked up. Magnolia glared down at him, a broom in her hands.

“Aunt Mags?”

“What on earth do you think you’re doing, Chandler Chatam?”

“Defending myself!” Chandler exclaimed.

At the same time, his opponent barked, “Chatam?”

She switched her gaze in that direction. “And you, Garrett Willows! Why are you fighting with my nephew?”

Garrett rocketed to his feet. “He’s your nephew?”

Chandler sat up, trying to catch his breath. Garrett the gardener had attacked him? He glared up at the dark-haired man towering uncertainly over him. Willows. Garrett Willows. Wasn’t that what Magnolia had said? Was he Bethany’s husband, then? The idea seriously rankled.

Chandler shoved up to his feet and pointed a finger. “He attacked me!”

“Chandler?”

Hearing Bethany’s voice, Chandler whirled. She stood beneath the porte cochere with Hypatia and Odelia, her cornflower blue eyes wide.

“Why are you fighting with my brother?”

Brother. He glanced at Garrett Willows. His aunts’ gardener was Bethany’s brother?

She looked as stunned as Chandler felt—and stunning. In dark brown leggings and a long pink top with tiny puffed sleeves, her dark hair a silken fall to her shoulders, she looked wholesome and healthy and radiant. And pregnant, he reminded himself. And the sister of Garrett Willows, not the wife.

Chandler folded his arms and glared at his opponent. It wouldn’t do to smile at such a moment. It wouldn’t do at all.

Only a few moments earlier, in company with Hypatia and Odelia, Bethany had been on her way to the sunroom for breakfast. Then a grim-lipped Magnolia had emerged from the kitchen with a broom in hand, exclaiming that she had seen “them” fighting when she’d gone out to water the pot plants on the stoop. She’d stomped off toward the side door; Hypatia and Odelia had promptly followed, leaving a curious Bethany to bring up the rear. Bursting from the house, she’d seen two men rolling around on the ground and hitting each other. Magnolia had surged forward and smacked them both with her broom. When they’d fallen apart, Bethany had been shocked to see that one of them was her brother! And the other…Chandler! Chandler Chatam?

She shook her head. “I—I don’t understand.”

Her brother cast her a hooded glance and started to beat the dust from his jeans and bright blue T-shirt.

“Well, that makes two of us,” Chandler said, glaring at Garrett. “What possessed you to come after me like that?”

Garrett ducked his head, muttering sullenly, “I saw you hiding in your truck around the corner of the building, and—”

“I wasn’t hiding!” Chandler interrupted. “I was sleeping. I got back late and didn’t want to wake anyone. I parked back there because I knew my aunts wouldn’t want the horse trailer sitting where it could be seen from the street.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?” Garrett snapped. To Bethany’s shock, Garrett turned on her, demanding, “How on earth did you get involved with a Chatam, anyway?”

Before Bethany could answer, Hypatia stepped up and asked, “Do you two know each other?”

“No!” Bethany exclaimed.

At the same time, Chandler said, “Yes.”

Odelia giggled and clapped a lace hanky between her hands, looking from one of her sisters to the other. “Didn’t I tell you?”

Bethany had no idea what she was talking about, but it was difficult to take her seriously when she wore vivid yellow-and-white awning stripes, culminating with earrings fashioned to resemble stylized suns. They were almost as large as the visible ball in the sky overhead.

Hypatia made an exasperated sound and looked from Bethany to Chandler. “It can’t be both.”

“He told me his name was Chandler,” Bethany blurted defensively.

“And it is,” he drawled. “Hubner Chandler Chatam the third.”

“You never said Chatam!” Bethany insisted.

“Oh, my word,” Magnolia muttered.

Chandler sighed. “Look, it’s just one of those crazy coincidences. I picked her up alongside the road about halfway between here and Houston.”

“You were hitchhiking?” Garrett roared at her.

“No! I was trying to buy a bus ticket in a diner.”

“But he said he picked you up alongside the road.”

“The diner was alongside the road,” Chandler stated pointedly.

“I don’t care how you met him!” Garrett bawled. “What matters is that he’s the father of your baby!”

There were audible gasps. Bethany gulped. Oh, how had this all gotten so muddled?

Chandler glared at her. “Did you tell him that I was the father?”

“No! I just didn’t say that you aren’t the father.”

He parked his hands at his waist. “Come again?”

She opened her mouth to explain, heat burning her cheeks, when a pain seized her, so unexpected that she doubled over. “Ow!”

Both men rushed forward. Four strong arms surrounded her.

“Sis!”

“Bethany!”

“Ohhh,” she moaned. “I-It’s just a c-cramp.”

“Bring her inside,” Hypatia instructed smartly.

Chandler stepped back so Garrett could sweep her up in his arms, but the cramp was already waning.

“It’s all right,” she gasped. “Really. I—I can walk.”

Everyone ignored her, moving en masse toward the house. Chandler leaped ahead and held open the bright yellow door as the sisters swept through. On their heels, Garrett carried Bethany inside, striding swiftly down the shadowy back hall to the family room.

“Honestly,” she protested. “You don’t have to carry me.”

“It’s either him or me,” Chandler growled.

Bethany glanced over Garrett’s shoulder at him. Despite needing a shave and looking somewhat haggard, the man was handsome enough to make a girl’s heart go pitter-patter. And a Chatam! Her mind whirling, she quickly looked away.

Garrett carried her to a plush love seat, which matched the oversize sofa in the center of the room, where he at last set her on her feet. Stalling for time, Bethany tugged at the hem of her tunic and adjusted the tiny, puffed sleeves before smoothing her hands across the thighs of her brown knit leggings before sitting down. The Chatam sisters primly seated themselves on the full-length sofa. The men stood opposite each other, arms folded.

“Now, then,” Hypatia said calmly, “I think we all need to know just who the father of this child is.”

Bethany bowed her head. Could the situation be any more mortifying? It wasn’t just embarrassing, though; it was dangerous, and she had to think of her child first.

She gulped and mumbled, “I can’t tell you.”

“But it’s not Chandler?” Hypatia pressed.

Bethany shook her head, gaze averted.

“Satisfied?” Chandler asked, glaring at Garrett.

“How was I to know?” Garrett demanded. “She shows up, pregnant and unmarried, with you.” Bethany flinched, hearing it stated so baldly. “All she’ll say is that the father doesn’t want the kid,” he barreled on, “and you take off without even bothering to meet me!”

“I had important business! And why would I bother meeting you? I didn’t know you were her brother. All I knew was that you’re the gardener here, and I don’t report to the gardener!”

“Stop it!” Bethany cried, shocking even herself. “Just stop snarling at each other. Neither of you has any reason.”

“No reason?” Chandler demanded. “He hit me!”

“You hit me back,” Garrett grumbled, rubbing his ribs.

Bethany sighed. Her eyes filled, and she bit her lip, but then she managed to say softly, “I don’t want to talk about who the father of this baby is anymore.”

Garrett shifted. “But—”

“You heard her,” Chandler snapped. Bethany glanced up, straight into his warm brown gaze. “It’s her business,” he muttered, glancing away.

“Of course.” Hypatia said, as if that settled the matter.

“You’re right,” Magnolia agreed at the same time. Garrett looked like he might explode for a moment, but then he gave his head a sharp nod.

“Well, that’s that, then,” Odelia announced with some satisfaction. “And now we’re all friends.”

Bethany choked back a startled laugh. Then a weight seemed to descend on her shoulders. These were good people, every one of them. Her brother had offered her support when she needed it most. The Chatam triplets had taken her into their home without a moment’s hesitation. Chandler had offered her a ride when she was nothing more than a desperate stranger stranded beside the road. Good people, indeed, and good people deserved the truth.

But she couldn’t give it to them. Not now. Not ever.

She gulped and closed her eyes, remembering the look on Jay’s face when he’d learned that she was pregnant. He didn’t want this child, but he would take it from her if she ever told anyone what he’d done. With her family history and his resources, that would be too difficult.

Silence reigned for a long moment, then Garrett turned to face Chandler and squared his shoulders. They were both beginning to show a few scrapes and bruises but nothing that wouldn’t be gone by morning.

“I apologize,” he said. “I have a history of overreacting where the women in my family are concerned.”

Chandler shrugged, his gaze skimming over Bethany. “No real harm done, I guess.”

Garrett nodded curtly and moved to stand at her side, saying, “You have to admit that it’s a lulu of a coincidence, my sister stumbling into your path.”

“No kidding,” Bethany murmured. Even Chandler lifted his eyebrows and nodded in agreement. Not so the triplets.

Hypatia shared an amused look with her sisters and calmly said, “Oh, my dears, do you not realize that for God’s children, there are no coincidences? Only plans.”

Chapter Four

Straightening, Chandler felt an eerie feeling skitter up his spine.

No coincidences for God’s children.

Chandler knew that God had plans for the lives of believers, but he’d never before thought of it in quite that way. He suddenly remembered his father speaking from the pulpit.

“God allows nothing into our lives without a reason.”

As a teenager, Chandler hadn’t paid much attention, already at odds with his dad over his friendship with Kreger. Both he and Kreger had been horse-mad and dreaming of careers in rodeo. Pat’s grandfather had encouraged their interest, but Hub believed that sports were frivolous, mere hobbies, certainly not occupations fit for Chandler men. Only lately, since Chandler’s sister, Kaylie, had married a pro hockey goalie, had Hub rethought his prejudice somewhat.

Now, suddenly, Chandler heard his father’s long-ago words with a different ear and applied that new interpretation to his meeting Bethany.

If Kreger had flown in to compete as they’d planned, he’d have been riding with Chandler back to Buffalo Creek. They wouldn’t have left for home early that morning because Pat never hauled himself out of bed before he had to, which meant they’d have stopped for dinner long before they’d have reached that little diner. The only reasonable conclusion was that Chandler would have missed Bethany completely if things had gone as he had planned. No telling where she’d have wound up then.