A Home of Her Own (Dundee, Idaho #4)(70)
Author: Brenda Novak

“What can I do for you, Mike?” Kyle’s voice sounded clipped. Mike had purchased the land Morris had left to both Kyle and Sean almost as soon as they’d inherited it, but that wasn’t the full extent of their past dealings. There’d been many times when the animosity between Mike and Josh, and Sean and Kyle, had almost come to blows, usually at the Honky Tonk, when Sean had consumed too much alcohol. Fortunately, Kyle had always pulled his brother outside and driven him home.

But that was years ago, Mike reminded himself, better forgotten. “I’m looking for Lucky,” he said.

“Lucky?”

“Your sister?”

“Isn’t she staying next door?” Kyle’s confusion seemed authentic, heightening Mike’s concern. Could something have happened to her?

“She left here almost a month ago. You haven’t heard from her?”

“No. Is there some sort of problem?”

Mike hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her, which had definitely turned out to be a bit of a problem. But he didn’t feel inclined to share that with Kyle. “Not that I know of. I just…” What could he say? Your little sister’s too young for me, but I can’t live without her? It was true…. “She mentioned that she might be ready to sell the house. I was hoping to get in touch.”

“With another offer.”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Just have her call me when you hear from her, okay?”

Kyle obviously didn’t like the answer he’d received. “Maybe I will and maybe I won’t,” he said and hung up.

Mike frowned as he walked back to his desk and placed the phone in its cradle. Obviously, Lucky’s family didn’t like him any more than his family liked her.

LUCKY’S HEART POUNDED so hard she could scarcely hear above it. The in-home pregnancy test she’d purchased at a nearby grocery store boasted that it could be used as early as the first day after a missed period. But she didn’t have to worry about testing too soon. Although she’d never really bothered to keep close track of her menstrual cycle, she’d always been regular. She was pretty sure she should’ve started her period three weeks ago.

According to the pamphlet that came with the test, the display on the little plastic indicator would read “Pregnant” one minute after testing and “Not pregnant” inside of three. She knew she’d have her answer soon—but sixty seconds had never lasted so long. Mouth dry, eyes riveted on the little oval where, barring an “error” code, the words would appear, she told herself to pray for a negative result. She hadn’t expected this kind of complication. She didn’t have a home or any real direction in her life, and she certainly didn’t want to raise a child in the homeless shelters where she often volunteered. She had no support from family or friends. No business having a child.

And yet the thought of carrying Mike’s baby made her feel a strange, yearning sensation. If she was pregnant, she’d definitely keep the child. She’d love and cherish a baby with all her heart.

She glanced at her watch. Fifty seconds and counting…Fifty-five…Sixty…

Nothing. She wasn’t pregnant. The condoms they’d used had done their job. Another two minutes would confirm it.

Relief and disappointment swirled inside her while she waited. Sixty more seconds…Seventy…

The digital letters appeared, faintly at first, slowly growing blacker and more distinct. Lucky expected to see two words: Not pregnant. But it didn’t look like two words to her. She blinked disbelievingly, then held the indicator closer to the light. Sure enough, there it was, clear as day. Only one word: Pregnant.

“MIKE, IT’S Senator Holbrook.”

Mike swiveled slightly away from Josh, who was sitting across from him at the conference table going over some layouts for their new brochure. “Hello, Senator,” he said. “What can I do for you?”

“Is it true that Lucky’s left town?”

“Yes.”

“Could you give me her telephone number, please?”

Mike felt his eyebrows shoot up. “I’m afraid I don’t have it.”

“Do you know anyone who does?”

“No.”

“What about her family, her brothers?”

“I’ve already called them. No luck.”

“So you don’t know where she’s gone.”

“No.” Mike had hired a private investigator to track her down, to ease his worry, if nothing else. But he couldn’t admit that in front of Josh. Mike hadn’t heard from his mother or father since he’d admitted how he felt about Lucky while talking to Barbara on the phone over a week ago. They hadn’t even invited him to Sunday dinner.

Holbrook seemed unsure of how to proceed.

“Is there something you’d like me to tell her if I happen to hear from her?” Mike asked, wondering why the senator was trying to reach Lucky.

There was a long pause. “Please tell her I’m ready to take the test,” he said and hung up.

Mike stared at the handset. The test? The paternity test? But what about Gabe and Reenie and—

“What’d Holbrook want?” Josh asked.

Quickly pulling himself together, Mike hung up and made a halfhearted attempt to come up with a lie. But nothing, except the truth, presented itself quickly enough.

“What?” Josh pressed.

“He wants the same thing I want,” Mike admitted.

“And that is…”

“To find Lucky.”

LOS ANGELES WAS as good a place as any to start a new life, Lucky decided as she wandered through the small blue house for sale. The mild weather appealed to her. So did the sandy beaches only a block away. She liked sitting and watching the waves tumble over themselves as they crashed against the shore. She even liked what most other people complained about—the miles upon miles of concrete and teeming masses. Probably because nothing in L.A. reminded her of a small town tucked into the mountains north of Boise, where she’d briefly spent time with the handsome cowboy who still owned her heart.

“What do you think?” The real estate agent stood at the door, frowning impatiently at her watch. “As I said, these properties don’t become available very often. If you want it, we’ll have to move fast.”

Lucky turned away from the window, and the voices and laughter drifting in from outside. The living room was situated above a small garage. This little house, with its fresh paint and hardwood floors, was more than forty years old and had only two small bedrooms and one bath. But the view, in addition to the quaint, clean neighborhood, made it special. Lucky knew she should probably rent an apartment before buying any real estate, get a feel for the city, make sure she was going to like it here. Except, if she could move on easily, she was afraid she would. This time she intended to put down roots. For her baby. Her son or daughter might grow up without a father, as she had, but Lucky was determined to give her child more than her own mother had been emotionally capable of giving her—stability, direction, a strong self-image.