A Baby of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #1)(35)
Author: Brenda Novak

“Millie’s a wonderful cook,” Uncle Ralph said. “And I love your dry turkey, Ruby. Let’s not argue in front of company.”

“It’s not dry,” Ruby said.

“Ralph’s right about the arguing,” Lula chipped in. “Those of you who can’t hold a civil tongue in your heads won’t get one of my homemade rolls.”

Everyone quieted down then, because they knew Lula’s rolls were easily the best part of the whole meal, and Aunt Millie seemed to remember her reason for having this dinner.

“Delaney could have cooked this entire meal and done an excellent job of it,” she told Conner, “but Sunday’s her day to sell pies.” She guided him to a seat at the table opposite Delaney. He sat down, and Millie took the chair beside him, no doubt so she could continue to bend his ear with Delaney’s many attributes. “And she can clean, too.”

“Being able to cook and clean is definitely a plus,” he said. “But domestic abilities fall far behind honesty, in my book. I don’t think I can work with anyone I can’t trust.”

Delaney let her gaze dart to his face, but he didn’t add anything and pretended to settle for Lula’s response, which was a supremely confident “Oh, you can trust our Laney. There isn’t a dishonest bone in her body. To tell you the truth, we don’t know how she even got herself in this…predicament. She’s never been one of those—” her voice fell to a whisper “—loose women.”

“So she’s pregnant,” Ruby said, waving her hand as though they were making a big deal out of nothing. “At least she’s not doing drugs.”

A muscle had jumped in Conner’s cheek at the word pregnant. “I’m sure I can trust her,” he said smoothly, but the undercurrent in his voice made Delaney squirm.

The conversation turned to the fact that Delaney could ride a horse and had experience with animals, since she’d been in 4-H and had done some barrel-racing as a teenager. But Delaney kept her eyes on her plate, purposely ignoring the funny anecdotes and comments Conner chose to share as other topics arose. He pretended to be enjoying himself as much as Aunt Millie and everyone else, but Delaney knew better. She could see that he was making a concerted effort to win everyone over, which he did with ease. Why he’d bother, she couldn’t say.

“What’s wrong?” Uncle Ralph asked, looking concerned as she helped him carry the dishes into the kitchen.

“Nothing,” she muttered, pushing through the swinging door.

“You hardly touched your food.” He put his load of dishes in the sink. “And you’ve been quiet as a mouse. Why are you letting those old ladies out there do all the talking?”

“Conner’s been doing his share,” Delaney grumbled, resenting Conner’s easy charm and quick wit because she knew he was using them as some kind of weapon.

“Don’t you like him?” Uncle Ralph asked.

“He’s okay, I guess,” she said, but at the moment, she didn’t like him at all. Obviously she’d made a mistake in telling him about the baby. She should’ve listened to Rebecca and forgotten her scruples about having forgotten her scruples.

“Nice of him to let you take over Dottie’s position. He hasn’t even started interviewing yet.”

“I’m not sure we should count on his help,” Delaney said.

“Why not?”

“Because he probably won’t last long around here. Roy, out at the ranch, says he’s going back to California soon.”

Uncle Ralph raised his eyebrows. “That’s odd. He’s not talking like he’s going back anytime soon.”

Delaney had noted the same thing, and it worried her more than anything else. She didn’t want to live with his hostility for years to come. “I can find another job,” she told him, infusing her voice with false confidence as she rinsed the plates and loaded them in the dishwasher. “I don’t want to bank on something that’s still so tentative.”

“All we have to do is ask him. A woman in your situation can’t be too choosy.”

Aunt Millie yelled for the pie server, and Uncle Ralph immediately grabbed it and left the kitchen.

Delaney took as long as she possibly could with the dishes, but the time still came when she had to return to the dining room.

“Conner said you can start Monday,” Ruby told her the moment she appeared, passing her a piece of pie.

“I can’t start on Monday,” Delaney said. “I’m working at the library for another two weeks.”

“Then, start when you can. I’m not in a big hurry,” Conner said.

Delaney gritted her teeth at the self-satisfied smile that curled his lips and shoved a bite of pie into her mouth, stalling until she could think of a refusal Aunt Millie and Uncle Ralph might accept. Now that they felt they’d found the perfect solution, they weren’t going to give up. And Conner was taking full advantage.

“I’d be better off looking for something closer,” she said. “The ranch is several miles out of town, and the roads will be icy that early in the morning. My tires aren’t great,” she added, hoping for a little support from Uncle Ralph, who was always worried about the tread on people’s tires.

“It’s nearly spring,” Ralph said instead. “You don’t have to worry about the roads.”

“And you could do what Dottie does—spend the week at the ranch and go home only on weekends,” Conner suggested.

“We were just saying that having you stay would probably be the best solution,” Aunt Millie chimed in. “You know, to cut down on the driving.”

Delaney folded her napkin, unable to take another bite. “Actually, I still have my pie business. I’d need to come home at night to bake—”

“It would be smarter to bake at the ranch,” Conner said, sounding downright solicitous. “You’ll have a big kitchen and lots of time.”

“See? It’s ideal!” Ruby said. “And he’s promised to match the salary you’ve been making at the library. With what you’ll be getting from the city besides, you won’t have to sell pies if you don’t want to and you’ll still be able to save for the baby.”

Delaney managed a weak smile, but the thanks that sprang to her lips was too sarcastic to utter. “That’s very generous, but—”

Conner looked up at her, hitting her with the full force of his amber eyes and the dark emotion that lurked behind them. “Is there a problem?”