A Baby of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #1)(60)
Author: Brenda Novak

Delaney was beginning to think she’d never understand him. One minute he ignored her, the next he was angry, the next he actually seemed to like her. But she didn’t have much time to ponder their unusual relationship, because they’d reached the gate and the passengers were already filing into the arrivals lounge.

Delaney curled her fingers more tightly through Conner’s and waited. She’d survive the next two days somehow, she told herself, just as Conner waved at a tall dark-haired woman dressed in a stylish black pantsuit that highlighted her still-trim figure. At the same time, he raised their clasped hands and kissed Delaney’s knuckles, and the action seemed so spontaneous, Delaney almost believed it had come naturally to him.

With that type of acting, even his mother would be convinced.

“There you are,” the woman said as soon as they’d threaded their way through the crowd and managed to get close enough to take a good look at each other. “This must be Delaney.”

Delaney smiled, but her smile shook, and she’d never felt more vulnerable than she did during the next few seconds when Conner’s mother stared into her face, then slowly returned her smile.

“She’s beautiful, Con.” Tears filled her eyes and she pulled Delaney into her arms. “I’m so happy he’s found you,” she whispered, and Delaney didn’t know what to say. She blinked rapidly to avoid tears of her own and clung to this stranger she immediately knew she’d rather die than disappoint.

“Delaney, this is Vivian,” Conner said.

Vivian relaxed her hug a little, looked over at her son, then back at Delaney. “Would you rather call me something other than Vivian?”

Delaney was still fighting back tears and had a difficult time speaking. “I’m happy to call you anything you like.”

Vivian smiled and kissed Delaney’s temple. “Then, call me Mom, dear.”

Oh God! Delaney felt as though she were wearing a scarlet letter L on her chest for liar, or a U for unworthy. But after Conner kissed his mother’s cheek and picked up her carry-on, he slung an arm around Delaney and she thought she heard him murmur, “It’s okay.”

Vivian kept one hand on her arm as though they’d known each other for years. “I want to take you both out to breakfast,” she said. “Where should we go?”

CHAPTER TWENTY

CONNER WAS SO NERVOUS he could hardly breathe. It had been an awkward twenty-four hours with his mother in town, and now he’d reached the point of no return. Already. He was going to be married today to a woman who didn’t want to marry him, a woman whom—if he were being completely honest—he had yet to forgive. But that wasn’t all. Roy had just picked up his grandfather and uncles from the airport and they were waiting in the office to talk to him about his offer on the ranch. The next fifteen minutes would tell whether his dream had any chance.

Though he’d just gotten dressed, Conner unraveled the bow tie on his tux so it hung limply around his neck and unfastened the top button of his white pleated shirt as he made his way down the hall. He’d spent so many hours in the office that he now thought of it as his own domain and not his grandfather’s, but it wasn’t a sanctuary for him today.

Wiping a hand across his forehead as though it were ninety degrees in the house instead of a cool seventy, he opened the door and strode across the carpet to greet his grandfather and uncles. His mother wasn’t part of this little gathering. Along with Dwight’s wife and four children, Jonathan’s son and Stephen’s wife, she was in the south wing, getting ready for the wedding, which was scheduled to start in less than an hour.

Less than an hour…

“Grandfather,” he said.

“Conner.” His grandfather nodded and shook his hand, and Conner noticed that the firmness of his grip hadn’t changed. Never a large man to begin with, he’d lost weight and looked even smaller since the surgery. But his presence still filled the whole room and commanded respect.

“In spite of everything, you’re looking fit,” Conner told him. “You must be bouncing right back.”

“Fit as a man can look after open-heart surgery at eighty-four,” he said with a smile.

The way he greased his hair straight off his forehead was hardly the fashion of the day, but it suited him almost as much as his light blue polyester suit. His cowboy boots had been polished, Conner noticed, but they were the same pair he wore day in and day out, whether he was traveling, meeting with business associates or heading out to the vineyards. There wasn’t a pretentious bone in his body. A glance at his uncles told Conner they were wearing Armani suits and Italian leather, and carrying themselves as though they were mighty proud of the fact.

“Thanks for coming,” Conner told his grandfather. “I know it’s very soon after the surgery, and I know you’re busy.”

His grandfather sat, a little more gingerly than usual, in the Chippendale chair by the window. “Never too busy to come to my grandson’s wedding. I’m looking forward to meeting the bride.”

“I appreciate that,” Conner said, but he wasn’t sure he wanted the kind of familiar closeness that Delaney and his mother already seemed to share. Forcing himself to turn and greet his uncles, he smiled. Stephen and Dwight were lounging on the leather couch, their coats unbuttoned, while Jonathan’s huge bulk filled an upholstered chair almost the size of a love seat. “Stephen, Jonathan, Dwight. Good of you to come.”

“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Stephen said.

Conner tipped his head to acknowledge Stephen’s mocking smile. “I knew I could rely on that.”

“So what’s going on? What’s this all about?” Dwight asked, cutting to the chase by tossing the offer Conner had faxed to the Napa house onto the coffee table.

“Exactly what it looks like,” Conner said.

Jonathan gave up his more comfortable position to lean forward. In the three months since Conner had seen him, he’d lost some hair and gained even more weight. “What it looks like is an offer. But I don’t understand why you’ve signed it as buyer.”

“What’s confusing about that? I want to purchase the ranch.”

Dwight rubbed his jaw and narrowed his eyes. “Problem is, Con, you don’t have any money.”

“That’s why I’m asking for terms. I’ve seen the appraisal. You padded the price by nearly two-hundred thousand dollars to allow room to negotiate if an offer came in and, in this market, it’s going to take a few concessions to get that kind of asking price. Carrying the loan is the concession I need.”