The Bachelor's Baby

Something sparked in Lindsay’s eyes, and while she didn’t comment, Brian could see the wheels spinning in that quick mind that had always amazed him. Whatever it was, it passed as quickly as it had appeared. He still felt uneasy, because he had no clue what was going on with her.

That thought led to another, more pressing one. “Gran, Lindsay’s looking for a place to stay. Do you know of anyone who’s got a room to rent here in town?”

After thinking for a few moments, she shook her head. “But I’ve got a big house with plenty of guest rooms, Lindsay. You’re welcome to stay with me until you find something more permanent.”

“I don’t want to impose on you,” Lindsay protested.

“Please,” Gran scoffed. “The house echoes like the Grand Canyon, it’s so quiet. I’d love to have some company, even if it’s only for a little while.”

“Well, okay,” Lindsay finally agreed, adding a grateful smile that would have softened a heart made of granite. “Thank you.”

They finished the rest of their lunch in near silence, and Brian figured it was because they really had nothing left to say. More than once over the years, he’d wondered how it would be to see his blue-eyed gypsy again. Needless to say, this really wasn’t the way he’d pictured it.

* * *

She was finally warm.

After a long, difficult day, Lindsay woke up tucked into one of Ellie’s comfy guest rooms, snuggled in blissfully soft sheets beneath a pile of what were surely handmade quilts. She had an entire queen-size bed to herself, and more fluffy pillows than she knew what to do with.

It was dark outside the window, and she checked the old-fashioned alarm clock to find it was almost seven o’clock. And she was starving. Her lunch with Brian had tasted like cayenne-flavored sawdust, so she’d eaten only enough to satisfy his insistence that she should have something to eat. Turning on the bedside lamp, she found her shoes in the closet and stepped into them, only to discover that they were still soaking wet. Beside them was a worn pair of fleece-lined slippers that looked to be about her size, so she pulled them on instead. Padding across the richly colored wood floor, she eased the door open and strained her ears for a hint of the conversation going on below.

“What do you want me to do, Gran?” Brian’s unmistakable baritone demanded in a hushed tone. “This is my business we’re talking about. I’ve put everything I’ve got into it, and then some. I’ve only got one shot at making this work, and I can’t hire someone I don’t have complete faith in.”

“You need an office manager,” Ellie argued in the sensible New Englander way Lindsay recalled from her childhood, “and Lindsay just happens to be an experienced one who’s looking for a job. Do you think she’s capable of doing what you need done?”

After a long pause, he grudgingly admitted, “Probably.”

“If you’re not sure about that, you should call her last boss and ask what he thought of her. Then you can feel more confident about your choice, whatever you decide.”

“I feel sorry for Lindsay, but I’m not hiring her, end of story.” The sound of chair legs scraping across the kitchen floor reached upstairs, and she heard something in his voice she hadn’t expected: regret. “That storm’s getting worse, and the snow is piling up out there. I’ll be back in the morning to shovel the driveway and front walk for you before you go into the bakery at eight.”

“Thank you, honey. I appreciate you taking care of it. Don’t work too late tonight.”

“I won’t.”

The door opened and then closed, and then all was quiet.

Lindsay’s appetite had evaporated during the terse conversation she’d overheard, and she crept back to bed. Despite his earlier refusal to hire her, she’d sensed that he wasn’t completely convinced about it. That had left her with a tiny sliver of hope that he might change his mind, especially when she heard Ellie gently nudging him to reconsider. His comment about not being able to trust her made her more ashamed than she’d ever been, and she buried herself under the covers while tears that she’d held in for days finally escaped.

Working for Brian had been her last—and only—chance at some security for herself and her unborn child. Now that door was firmly closed, and she searched her mind for the window that the old saying insisted would be opened.

But this time, there wasn’t one.

Chapter Three

After a few hours of restless sleep, Brian finally gave up and decided it was time to start his day. The caretaker’s cottage next to the forge was pretty bare-bones, even for him, and he wasn’t surprised when he poked his head out from under the covers only to discover there was no heat. Again.

He was good with most machinery, but the antique oil furnace bewildered him. No matter what fix he tried, it refused to fire up without some serious coaxing. Fortunately, the small fieldstone fireplace was more reliable. Too bad he’d forgotten to bank the fire before hitting the hay last night.

Rather than waste time building another one, he settled for a steamy shower that not only warmed him up but also eased some of the lingering pain from yesterday. Every muscle in his body ached from wrestling with the archaic equipment he was trying to bring back from the dead, and he faced another long day of the same. His daunting rehab project had been going on for six months now, and sometimes he wondered if he was making any progress at all.

Pushing the doubt from his mind, he strolled into the lobby and silently thanked whoever had invented a coffee maker that could fill up his mug in less than a minute. Wrapping his cold hands around the warm ceramic, he snagged a power bar and opened one of the huge doors to the old-fashioned blacksmith shop that was the heart and soul of his family’s once-thriving business. Repairs to the building itself had taken forever, from the roof to evicting a family of chipmunks that had taken up residence in the flue of the enormous fireplace that had literally forged the existence of Liberty Creek and other small towns for miles around.

Since its opening, everything from wagon wheels to bucket hoops to cast-iron pots were produced here by Jeremiah Calhoun and his brothers, one piece at a time. Now that he was picking up the torch, Brian felt a kinship with them that gave him a tremendous sense of pride. He’d enjoyed the variety of living in other places, and when he first mentioned leaving the bustle of Portsmouth and returning to his sleepy hometown, most of his friends were convinced he’d gone and lost his mind. But as difficult as things could be for him at times, he never doubted that he’d made the right decision.

Well, almost never.

When his cell phone’s old-time telephone ringer sounded, he glanced at the screen to discover that the environmental inspector who’d been assigned to his project was calling. It was just after seven, and he suspected that the man wasn’t contacting him to share good news. Brian recalled hearing once that a smile could be heard over the phone, so he forced one onto his face before answering. “Hello, Mr. Williams. What can I do for you?”

“I’ve found a conflict with the appointment we made for the final inspection of your air scrubbing system at the end of the month. I apologize for the short notice, but there’s no way around it. I have an opening at nine on Thursday morning if you can do it then.”

Brian had installed the equipment, but the complicated job had gobbled up all of his time for more than a week. That meant the mound of paperwork that he was supposed to fill out was still sitting on his desk, blank as the day the inspector had handed it to him. “That’s the day after tomorrow, so I’m not sure. Is there another option?”

“May.”

“Really?” Brian blurted without thinking. “That’s a long time to wait.”

“There aren’t many people in the country who do what I do, so my calendar is booked solid until then. Should we schedule something in May?”

The tourists that were the lifeblood of the local economy typically started visiting in late spring, and if something went wrong with an inspection in May, Brian wouldn’t be able to fix it in time to welcome customers to his shop. That would jeopardize not only his current plans, but might also dissuade Jordan from leaving his successful artisan career and joining the company. If that happened, Brian couldn’t possibly hope to meet the high expectations of the discerning clients he wanted to reach. Without the benefit of Jordan’s contacts and expertise, Brian knew that he might as well save himself the aggravation and close the doors now.

“Thursday’s fine,” he gritted out, hoping his irritation wasn’t too obvious. “I’ll see you then.”

He hung up, then closed his eyes and held the phone against his forehead. There were days when he wondered if the crazy scheme he’d concocted was worth the overwhelming effort he was putting into it. This was one of them, and to make it worse, setbacks like this made him doubt whether it was even possible for him to bring the long-dormant shop back to life.

Lifting his head, he took in his outdated surroundings in a more critical fashion than he had so far. The tools of his trade hadn’t changed all that much over the centuries—fire and force were still the essential components of metalworking. Above the fireplace, currently out of sight, was the problematic—and very expensive—air scrubber that was the key to him being certified to operate his coal-fired forge the old-fashioned way.

Aside from that, the vast collection of hammers, snips and anvils of various shapes were all he needed to fill his customers’ orders. But none of that mattered if he didn’t pass Mr. Williams’s inspection in two days, he reminded himself grimly. A rebel at heart, following other people’s rules had never been his strong point, and recalling the intimidating stack of forms made him want to scream in frustration.

Doing something physical was usually the cure for that, and he’d promised to dig Gran out this morning, anyway. His four-by-four crawled out of its spot without a problem, and he made the quick trip across town through a gray, frigid dawn that didn’t feel very promising. When he arrived at her house, he grabbed a shovel from its spot in the old carriage house and got to work.

One shovelful at a time. In his memory, he heard Granddad’s voice telling him that when he was a little boy doing his best to help with the wintertime task. That’s how even the biggest job gets done.

Stunned by the clarity of the message and how well suited it was to his current problem, Brian stopped and rested his gloves on the handle of the shovel. Listening closely, he didn’t pick up anything other than the rumble of a nearby plow and the rustling of bare tree branches in the breeze.

Had it been his imagination? he wondered. Tired as he was, it was a definite possibility that his mind was playing tricks on him, conjuring up some reassuring words from his grandfather to help him through a crisis.

“Is everything okay?”

Startled by the sound of an actual voice, Brian whipped around to find Lindsay standing inside the open front door, head tilted while she stared at him in obvious concern. In her hands she held an oversize coffee mug, steaming in the chilly air.

“Yeah, just taking a breather. What’re you doing up so early?”

“I couldn’t sleep anymore, so I’m making breakfast for Ellie. When I heard you out here, I thought you might like something warm to drink.”

It was a thoughtful thing to do, especially considering that just a few hours ago, he’d flatly refused to hire her. The faint pang of guilt he’d been feeling grew stronger, and he began to second-guess his decision. “Thanks for thinking of it. You shouldn’t be out here, though. It’s freezing.”

That got him a wry grin. “I’m tougher than I look.”

Yeah, she was, he remembered with more fondness than he would have preferred. Her delicate appearance masked a headstrong temperament that had proven to be more than a handful in their younger days. It was good to know that her current predicament hadn’t completely shattered the spirit he’d once admired so much.

“I’ll come in and thaw out,” he said, climbing the snowy steps to join her. “I’m ready for a break, anyway.”

After shedding his ice-caked boots and coat in the entryway, he followed Lindsay into the warm, welcoming space that was his grandmother’s little kingdom. Gifted with culinary talent and a knack for inventing new dishes, Gran had fed hundreds of family and friends over the years from the bright, unassuming kitchen that was her domain.

Lindsay opened the warming drawer of the commercial oven, and the scent of fresh pancakes made Brian’s empty stomach growl. She laughed, pulling several out to set on a plate for him. “It sounds like you’re hungry.”

“Starving. Thanks.”

He slathered on butter and drowned them in syrup that had come from maple trees outside of town. He was demolishing them when his grandmother came down the creaky wooden steps and into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” she greeted him, pausing to kiss the top of his head as if he was ten years old.

“Mmmng,” he mumbled around a mouthful of pancakes.

She laughed and crossed the floor to pour hot water from the teakettle into a flowered china cup. “He sounds happy. How are you feeling this morning, Lindsay?”

“Fine, thanks.”

Brian quickly swallowed and asked, “Feeling? Were you sick yesterday?”

“Tired more than anything, I think. It comes with the territory,” she added, smoothing her hands over her plump waistline. “Growing a person is hard work.”

Brian had all he could do growing his business, and he couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult her task was. Thinking of the forge reminded him of the impending deadline he now faced, and he realized that the solution to his problem was standing in his grandmother’s kitchen, spooning batter onto the griddle.

“Lindsay?” When she turned to glance at him, he swallowed his pride with some coffee and prepared his stomach for a bitter helping of crow. “I’ve got a major problem at the ironworks.” He explained it to her, ending with, “I’m still finishing up the installation of the unit, and there’s no way I can get everything done on my own. Would you consider taking that office manager job, after all?”

“Yes.”

Her answer came without hesitation, and he could hardly believe it. He’d anticipated her yanking his chain a little, perhaps making him grovel for entertainment’s sake. She didn’t even ask him how long their arrangement would last. It told him just how desperate she was, and he felt awful for the way he’d handled things with her yesterday. He didn’t want them starting off with any illusions about the position, so he cautioned her, “I’m not sure how much work I’ll have for you after that.”

“That’s okay,” she responded brightly. “Once you see what I can do, you might decide you can’t get along without me.”

“And you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want,” Gran assured her with a smile. “I really enjoy having the company, and I can drop you off at the ironworks when I drive into the bakery.”

“That’s sweet of you, and I’d be happy to take you up on it. As a tenant.”

“Oh, posh,” Gran scoffed, waving away the offer. “That’s not necessary.”

“It is for me,” Lindsay insisted, sitting in the chair beside his grandmother. “I’m going to be a mom soon, and I need to be more responsible than I have been in the past. That means not letting people do things for me that I can do for myself.”

Gran sent him a questioning look, and he shrugged slightly. It was up to her, really, but he had to admit he was impressed by Lindsay’s insistence on paying her own way. Prompted by Jeff’s behavior, no doubt. In Brian’s opinion, it was definitely a change for the better.

The skunk may have actually done her a favor, he mused while he mopped up his syrup with the last of his pancakes. Maybe she’d needed to hit rock bottom to realize just how bad things had gotten.

Now there was no place for her to go but up. And if anyone he knew had the will to make that happen, it was Lindsay Holland.

* * *

Lindsay was in the middle of the daunting stack of paperwork when a tiny elbow poked her hard enough to snag her immediate attention. Massaging the spot, she kept moving in a circular motion until the little troublemaker inside her rolled over into a different position that was more comfortable.

For a few minutes, anyway.

She’d been feeling the baby move for weeks now, but sometimes she still marveled at those simple reminders that there was a small person growing inside of her. The jabs came at all times of the day, so they were always a surprise to her, making her wonder if the restlessness was a hint at the personality to come. And if it was, how would she cope with raising such an active child all by herself?

Her own mother hadn’t managed the task all that well, and while Lindsay recognized that she’d been a handful, she’d often felt that Mom could have tried harder to bond with her independent-minded daughter. After all, Lindsay had come by her stubbornness innocently enough, inheriting not only her mother’s looks but her headstrong attitude, as well.

It seemed disloyal to feel that way, and as she’d matured, Lindsay had come to understand that Mom had done the best she could. Too bad it hadn’t even come close to what an insecure teenage girl needed.

The baby was now resting calmly under her hand, and she smiled down to where her palm rested. “I promise to always be there for you, little one, no matter what.”

She sensed a flutter of movement, as if her child had heard the vow and was acknowledging it. It was times like these when she—as nonreligious as a person could get—honestly believed in miracles.

A motion in the doorway caught her attention, and she glanced up to find Brian leaning against the jamb, arms crossed while he gazed curiously at her. “How’s it going in here?”

“Good,” she replied, patting the growing pile of finished paperwork proudly. “I just went past halfway.”

“So it’s downhill from here, then?”

In her experience, that wasn’t how things worked. But Brian was up against a nearly impossible deadline, and she decided that there wasn’t any point in being negative about their chances of actually finishing in time. “Like a snowball picking up speed.”

Cocking his head, he grinned at her. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”

Stunned that he’d seen through her attempt at levity, she blinked. Either he read her better than most people did, or she was losing her ability to smooth over difficult situations with a little well-placed deceit. Whichever was accurate, it didn’t bode well for her continuing to work with someone who’d hired her out of desperation and had no reason to keep her on once this crisis had passed.

“Don’t look so panicky,” he said in a reassuring tone as he came into the office. “I’m not judging you or anything. Since we’re gonna be working together, I was thinking it might go better if we’re straight with each other.”

Relief washed over her, and she forced a shaky smile. “Oh. Okay.”

Spinning a rickety-looking folding chair around, he crossed his arms on the back and sat facing her. “So, whatta you really think?”

“It will be tight, but I’ll get it done.” Bravado aside, she got the feeling that it was time to finally put their difficult history in the rearview. For both of them. “I know I haven’t always been trustworthy in the past, Brian, but I’m working really hard to change that.”

“Because of the baby?”

“Mostly.”

“What about for yourself?” She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, and after a few moments, he continued, “You deserve better than you’ve gotten, Lindsay. You’re smart and funny, and you’ve got a good heart. Have you ever thought about what you wanted, just for you?”

“College would’ve been nice,” she admitted shyly, hesitant to voice a wish that had proven to be too far out of reach for her. “I always wanted to— Never mind. It’s too crazy.”

That made him laugh, and she saw the humor lighting his eyes in the way she remembered so fondly.

“Look around,” he said, holding his arms out in emphasis. “I’m restoring a business to run the way it did in the 1800s. Anything you come up with won’t be half as crazy as what I’m doing here.”

His confidence and reassuring words eased her hesitance, and she decided to go for it. At the worst, he’d laugh. At the best, he’d understand how it felt to have a dream that everyone else thought was unattainable. “I’ve always wanted to be a family therapist. You know, counsel kids and their families who are having a tough time, help them learn a better way to handle things.”

“You’ve got some experience with that,” he said gently, sympathy warming the blue in his eyes to something she could almost feel from across the desk.

“Yeah, and I’ve often wondered if Mom and I would’ve done better if someone had taught us a better way of dealing with each other.”

“Life gets harder all the time, it seems,” he commented in a pensive tone. “My childhood here was awesome, but the older I get, the faster the world seems to spin. I can’t imagine how tough it is for kids these days.”

“It’s hard for grown-ups, too,” Lindsay added, hearing enthusiasm in her voice for the first time in what felt like forever. “Struggling families aren’t good for anyone, but especially for the kids involved. I really believe that a little help at the right time can make all the difference.”

“So why didn’t you pursue that? You were always a great student, and you were definitely smart enough to do well in college.”

“Money, for one.”

“There’s all kinds of scholarships out there,” he argued, as if him saying it was enough to make it happen. And for Brian, someone full of talent and self-confidence, it was probably true.

But for her, the real problem had been something she’d never been able to define. With him sitting there, urging her to seriously consider the dream she’d abandoned so long ago, she finally had to admit the truth. To herself.

“Jeff didn’t think I should do it,” she said in a meek, doormat voice that made her want to cringe. “He said we couldn’t afford to lose my salary and waste money on something that might not pan out. After a while, I guess I started to believe him.”

Brian’s jaw clenched around something he was clearly dying to say but wouldn’t because he respected her feelings. She couldn’t recall the last time anyone had kept an opinion to themselves out of concern for how it might hurt her.

It was comforting to know that—unlike so many people who’d run through her chaotic life—Brian Calhoun hadn’t changed. He still cared about her, and even though she’d blown her one chance with him, he’d make a great friend, she realized. A girl in her situation could never have too many of those.

“He was wrong,” Brian finally spat, his words heavily salted with disdain. “You can do whatever you set your mind to, Lindsay. Now that you’re away from him, I hope you’ll forget everything he ever told you and be able to focus on what’s best for you and the baby. Anything else is just noise, as far as I can see.”

“Focus,” she echoed, tilting her head while she considered his advice. “You’re right. That’s exactly what I need. What I always needed,” she admitted, shaking her head as things crystallized in her mind. “I just never found a way to get it.”

“You were too distracted, trying to get past your mom’s reputation and make people like you. Then you met Jeff, and you lost sight of everything else.”

Lost was exactly how she’d felt her entire life, she realized with a clarity so sudden it felt like a starburst in her mind. Except for when a small-town boy had reached out and offered her not only his attention but his love.

And how did she repay his generosity? She turned away from everything he represented, leaping into an uncertain future with a man who’d later stolen her ability to provide for the innocent child he’d abandoned when he left her.