A Baby of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #1)(33)
Author: Brenda Novak

He blinked and trained bleary eyes on his alarm clock. Seven o’clock. Why would someone bother him so early on a Sunday?

“This is Millie Lawson,” the voice was saying. “You probably don’t know me, but I’m a friend of your grandfather’s. He used to come into my store all the time.”

“Who?” he said, pulling the blankets higher to cut the chill.

“Millie Lawson.”

He groped through his mind, trying to place the name but couldn’t. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Lawson?”

“Actually, I’m not calling for me. I’m calling for my daughter, Delaney.”

Delaney’s name caused Conner’s sleepiness to fall away almost instantly. He shoved himself into a sitting position, which he regretted when the pounding in his head threatened to level him again.

Here it comes, he thought, lying back to ease the pain. Delaney’s first appeal for money.

“Let me guess,” he said. “She needs a few thousand dollars to tide her over.”

“What?”

“This is about money, isn’t it?”

“I guess,” she said. “If you’re talking about Dottie’s job. From what I understand that pays a pretty good salary.”

Her words took a moment to sink in. “Dottie’s what?” he asked.

“Her job. I heard Dottie Richens tell Elzina Brown and Sheila Smith at Bridge Club the other night that you’re looking for someone to take over for her while she attends the birth of her new grandbaby,” she explained. “I was hoping you’d consider my daughter for that position.”

“Delaney, er, your daughter doesn’t have a job?”

“She’s the town librarian, but the library’s closing down for remodeling in another week.”

“Which means she’ll be out of work.”

“Exactly.”

“And you want her to work here.”

“She’s attractive, bright and well-read. And she can cook. Not many young women can cook these days,” she added proudly.

Delaney was also a few other things he wasn’t going to mention. “Why doesn’t she call me herself?”

“Well, I haven’t told her about this yet. I was hoping you’d be willing to come to Easter dinner next Sunday afternoon at my place so you can meet her.”

Conner shoved a hand through his hair, wondering what was going on here. Were the two of them setting him up? Delaney had said she wanted nothing from him. He knew better than that, but this kind of approach seemed a little odd. It was uncomfortable being suspicious of a seventy-something-year-old woman who sounded sweeter than sugar.

“I’m a little confused,” he admitted.

“I’m sorry, dear. It’s just that I wanted to talk to you before I brought Delaney into it because there’s something you should know.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, I hesitate to say anything because this information shouldn’t reach certain ears, but…”

“But what?”

She cleared her throat. “Delaney has a few…physical limitations.”

“What kind of physical limitations?”

“Well, Dottie mentioned that she sprays for bugs, even on the outside of the house. But I don’t think Delaney should do that. Or clean the oven, either. And she certainly shouldn’t carry anything too heavy.”

Conner pinched the bridge of his nose. This Millie person wasn’t making sense. Maybe she was senile. “Why don’t you want her to spray for bugs?” he said.

“Because it could harm her unborn child. Delaney’s expecting a baby—out of wedlock,” she added, as though she was terribly embarrassed but felt it necessary to clarify the exact nature of Delaney’s “physical limitations.”

Conner hesitated. How was he supposed to respond to this?

“I’d appreciate it if you could keep that to yourself.”

“Uh…sure. No problem.”

“And if you could find it in your heart to overlook her situation,” Millie went on, “I’d be most grateful. I’m really quite worried about her. My Laney’s not the kind of girl this would make her seem, mind you. But she’s gotten herself into a bit of a…mess.”

She wasn’t the only one she’d gotten into a mess. “I’d be happy to consider her for the position.”

“That’s wonderful. And you’ll come to dinner on Easter?”

“Sure,” he said. “What time?”

CHAPTER ELEVEN

DELANEY SIGHED as she pulled into Aunt Millie’s driveway. Millie had insisted she come for dinner today, but Delaney wasn’t in the mood to endure any more silent disapproval. She’d made extra pies because it was Easter, expecting a boon in business that hadn’t materialized. Every inquiry she’d made into finding a new job had resulted in another dead end. And morning sickness was beginning to plague her—all day.

Opening the glove compartment, she withdrew the films of the ultrasound she’d had done in Boise a few days earlier, and let the sight of them buoy her spirits. Mostly black, they revealed little to the untrained eye. But Delaney had insisted on keeping them as a memento of seeing her baby’s heartbeat for the first time.

Closing her eyes, she pictured the fluttering white flashes she’d seen on the screen and felt the same emotions she’d experienced in the doctor’s office. Soon she’d have a baby of her own. There was something wonderful about that, even though—ever since she’d talked to Conner at the library—she felt as though she was holding her breath, waiting for the sky to fall. He hardly seemed the type to let what she’d done to him go easily. But the longer she went without hearing from him, the more hopeful she became.

Shoving the ultrasound films back into her glove compartment, she gathered the berry pies she’d brought, and got out. Judging by the cars in the drive, the whole gang was here. Lula and Vern Peterson’s blue sedan sat parked a few feet from her bumper, along with Ruby McCarrel’s old Cadillac and an unfamiliar, nondescript white pickup.

Movement in the front window told Delaney she’d been seen, so she started up the drive. She’d grown up with Aunt Millie’s friends and loved them all. The stooped and withered Vern, who wore his polyester slacks pulled almost to his chest, had helped Uncle Ralph teach her how to drive. When she was twelve, the small, spry Ruby had shown her how to shave her legs—since Millie hadn’t kept up with the practice. And Lula, silver-blue hair always shining and perfectly coiffed, had bought her the most expensive pair of shoes she’d ever owned, for the Homecoming Dance during her sophomore year. They’d all gone with her on the trip to Disneyland, too, even chipped in for souvenirs. But, of course, they’d moved a little faster in those days. Vern had stood taller, his bones less noticeable through his thin skin; Lula had still been wearing high heels everywhere, forever careful to match them with her handbags; and Ruby…well, Ruby hadn’t changed much. She still dyed her hair a harsh black, painted on her eyebrows and wore bright red lipstick.