Accidental Family (6 page)

A flush stole up his cheeks. “Don’t you think you’re both a little too old for me?”

“You’re probably right.” She bit back a smile, not wanting to embarrass him anymore. He was such a sweet kid who tried to act so grown up. “But save me a dance anyway, okay?”

“I guess.” Keegan moved closer to her on the sidewalk. “So Alison doesn’t have a date to the dance?”

“I don’t think so. Why?”

He shrugged his thin shoulders. “I don’t know. I mean, she seems like a nice lady and she’s not married yet or anything.”

Rowena grinned. “I thought you just said she was too old for you.”

Keegan rolled his eyes. “She is. But she’s not too old for my dad, and he doesn’t have a date for the Sweetheart Dance, either.”

“Oh,” Rowena said softly, her heart touched by the little matchmaker. She’d heard that Keegan’s mother had passed away shortly before Clint and his son moved to Cooper’s Corner. Now it seemed Keegan was trying to fill the void in their lives.

She thought of her own situation. Would her child try to play matchmaker for Rowena, as well? If she succeeded in keeping Alan out of their lives, would her child feel a void there, too?

The thought was sobering and not one she wanted to consider at the moment. She reached out to pull Keegan’s knit hat over one protruding red ear. “I think your dad might prefer to pick out his own date.”

Keegan looked skeptical as he shifted the mail in his arms. “Maybe you’re right. Alison is real nice and all, but... Well, you know.”

Keegan didn’t have to spell it out for her. Unfortunately, it was as plain as the nose on Alison’s face. The very large nose.

“Looks aren’t everything, you know,” Rowena told him. “It’s what’s on the inside that counts.”

He rolled his eyes again. “Yeah, right.”

The honk of a car horn forestalled her reply.

“There’s my dad,” Keegan said, moving toward the street. “See you later, Rowena.”

“Bye, Keegan.” She waved to Clint, then walked up the steps leading to the post office.

Alison wasn’t at the counter, so Rowena walked over to the rows of post office boxes. She retrieved a handful of envelopes from the one belonging to her, as well as the latest
Hair Today
magazine.

“Good afternoon, Rowena,” Alison said, leaning over the marble counter. “Can you fit me in for a haircut tonight?”

“Sure, what time?” Rowena said, moving in her direction. After her conversation with Keegan, she couldn’t keep her gaze from straying to the younger woman’s nose. It
was
unusually large. So large it distracted from her pretty blond hair and blue eyes. Alison was always trying a new hairstyle to minimize her most prominent feature.

“How about six o’clock?” Alison said. “Right after I get off work.”

“Sounds good. I’ll see you then.” Rowena turned toward the door. As she walked out of the post office, her gaze fell to the mail in her hands, and she began flipping through the letters. Mostly bills and junk mail.

But it was the eerily familiar powder blue envelope that made her blood run cold.

CHAPTER SEVEN

A
LAN
CHEWED
ON
a chocolate chip granola bar as he drove his car past Twin Oaks and then headed north on Highway 7. He needed time to think. Time to wonder if Rowena might be right.

Could his presence in his child’s life really be detrimental? His gut instinct was to deny such a ridiculous notion, but he’d been the editor of too many books on child psychology not to consider the possible consequences.

What if he was projecting his lousy childhood onto this baby? George Rand had been physically present in Alan’s life but never acted as if he cared about his only son. It still perplexed Alan, even after all these years. Had Alan done something wrong? Had their personalities clashed? Or had George never wanted to become a father?

These were questions only one man could answer.

Two hours later, Alan found himself in Albany, parked along the curb outside his father’s house. George Rand might not have visited him while he was undergoing cancer treatments, but he had sent a get-well card with his return address on the envelope.

Alan stared at the small brick ranch house. Neatly trimmed bushes lined the front. Christmas lights still hung from the eaves. A black oil mark stained the empty driveway. It was the home of his father. A home he’d never known.

Should he go up and knock on the door? Ask his father the questions that had plagued him as long as he could remember?

Why didn’t I matter to you? Why didn’t you want to be a father? Why don’t you love me?

The car idled for twenty minutes while Alan tried to decide if he really wanted to know the answers. At last, he pulled out a Twin Oaks Bed and Breakfast business card he’d picked up when he’d checked in. Then he scribbled a simple message on the back, telling his father he’d be at Twin Oaks for the next couple of weeks.

The rest was up to George.

Alan got out of the car and walked up to the house. Instead of knocking, he slipped the card into the screen door. As he drove back to Cooper’s Corner, the situation with Rowena and the baby, which had been so cloudy before, now seemed perfectly clear.

He never wanted his child sitting outside a strange house, wondering if he was welcome inside. Alan knew down into his soul that he could be a good father. A loving father. A father who cared.

Now he just needed the chance to prove it.

* * *

T
HE
NEXT
DAY
, Rowena stood in her shop behind the barber’s chair, carefully combing out Maureen’s long hair before she trimmed the ends. The afternoon sun shone through the windows, belying the bitter cold temperature outside. “Would you like to try some of the new shampoo that just came in?”

Maureen hesitated, then said gently, “That’s the third time you’ve asked me that question in the last ten minutes, Rowena. I don’t mean to pry, but is something wrong?”

So much for her intention never to bring her personal problems to work. Rowena wanted her shop to be a place her customers could relax and unwind. A place that brought them comfort. She was used to counseling people who sat in her chair. It came with the job. But her fingers shook as she ran the comb through Maureen’s hair, and she knew she had to talk to someone.

“I’m sorry,” she said, placing the comb on the tray next to her. “I guess I am a little preoccupied today. Maybe more than a little.”

Maureen twisted around in the chair. “Is it because you know Alan Rand is the father of your baby?”

Rowena froze. “How did you know...” she began, then groaned as realization dawned. “Philo told you about it, didn’t he? I was trying to convince myself he wasn’t eavesdropping in the general store, but I should have known better. Please tell me the news isn’t all over town already.”

Maureen nodded. “I’m afraid it is. I’ve heard it from at least three people.”

Rowena came around the chair to face her. “What exactly did you hear?”

“That you’re pregnant and the father is a guest at Twin Oaks. Since Alan is the only single man staying there, it wasn’t hard to figure out his identity.”

Rowena sank into one of the drier chairs and buried her face in her hands. “This is a nightmare. First Alan, and now...” She couldn’t put her new problem into words. “Why is this happening to me?”

Maureen was instantly at her side, a comforting arm around her shoulders. “Are you okay?”

Sucking in a deep breath, Rowena slowly lifted her head. “I will be. I
have
to be.” She gave a mirthless laugh. “The last thing this baby needs is a crazy mother.”

Maureen gave her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “I think you deserve to go a little crazy once in a while, considering the circumstances.”

If only the circumstances didn’t keep changing. She’d been fully prepared to bring a baby into this world alone—until Alan Rand showed up to make his demands. Her perfect life was starting to crumble around the edges, and Rowena didn’t know what to do about it.

She turned to Maureen. “So now that you know about him, tell me your impression of Alan.”

Maureen considered the question. “I’ve only really seen him a couple of times at breakfast. At least now I know why he expressed such an interest in you. He didn’t strike me as the kind of man who watched soap operas.”

“Do you like him?”

Maureen shrugged. “He seems nice enough. Friendly. Courteous.”

Her throat grew tight. “Unless you have something he wants.”

“What do you mean?”

She looked at Maureen in surprise. “Didn’t Philo tell everyone about the big blowup Alan and I had at the general store?”

“He might have mentioned something about a lovers’ spat.”

Rowena groaned. “I don’t know which is worse. Having everyone in town know that I’m pregnant or having them think Alan and I are lovers. Why couldn’t Philo keep his big mouth shut?”

Maureen gently brushed Rowena’s hair off her face. “Philo and Phyllis don’t mean any real harm. They truly do care about the people here.”

“I know,” Rowena admitted. “It’s just that I wanted to have the chance to announce my pregnancy in my own time. My own way.”

“I’m afraid Philo and Phyllis beat you to it.” Maureen smiled. “But the news isn’t all bad. Last I heard, Phyllis was organizing a baby shower for you.”

Rowena tried to smile, but her lips trembled. Would her roller-coaster emotions ever come under control? “She’d better include an invitation for Alan Rand, or he’ll probably take her to court, too.”

Maureen’s eyes widened. “He’s taking you to court?”

Rowena nodded. “He wants to assert his rights as the father of the baby.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It is. Alan is demanding to be a part of my baby’s life. He’s made it abundantly clear that he won’t stop until he obtains his rights as father. That includes generous visitation, possibly even joint custody.”

“And you’re opposed?”

“Of course I’m opposed!” She hated the tremble she heard in her voice. “Alan Rand is a controlling pain in the butt. I have enough to deal with in my life right now without him causing more trouble.”

Maureen pursed her lips, her green eyes too discerning. “Rowena, what’s really wrong? There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Rowena stood up and walked behind the counter. The front shelves were filled with rows of shampoo, conditioner and assorted styling gels in a variety of colors. Reaching into a wire mesh basket on the top shelf, she retrieved the powder blue envelope. “This came in the mail yesterday.”

Pulling her arms from under the vinyl cape she wore, Maureen reached for the envelope. “It’s addressed to Savannah Corrington. That was the name of your character on
Another Dawn.
”

Rowena nodded. “It’s common for viewers to know actors by their role rather than their real name.”

“So is it from one of your fans?”

“Just the opposite, I’m afraid.” Rowena leaned wearily against the counter. She’d been unable to sleep well after reading the letter, and her entire body ached with exhaustion. But at least the awful tension that had been building inside her had dissipated.

Once she’d unfolded the letter from the envelope, Maureen began to read it aloud.

“‘My darling Savannah, I love you so very much. How could you leave me? Don’t you know our love is endless. We were so very special together. I never should have let you go. Do you dream of me as I dream of you? Soon, I hope those dreams will become reality. My love is forever. Your devoted Sloane.’”

Maureen’s gaze skimmed over the letter a second time. “Who is Sloane?”

“He was my love interest on the show. But the letter isn’t from the actor who played him.”

“Then who is it from?”

“Max Heller. An ex-boyfriend.”

“You’re sure.”

Rowena sighed. “Almost positive, although I don’t have any proof.”

“So why do you think he’s responsible?”

“Because I started getting those same kind of letters right after I broke up with him. On the same powder blue stationery. I think he wanted to scare me back into his arms by making me believe a deranged stalker was after me. I finally confronted him about the letters, and he denied it, but I never got another one after that.”

Maureen flipped over the envelope. “There’s no return address, although the postmark shows it came from New York. When did the letters start up again?”

“That’s what’s so odd,” Rowena replied. “This is the first one since I moved to Cooper’s Corner six years ago. I guess I wrongly assumed that meant Max didn’t know where to find me.”

“Maybe the resurrection of Savannah Corrington on
Another Dawn
set him off again.”

“That’s what I thought.” Rowena pulled up the stool behind her and sat down. Her shoes pinched, and she knew before long her feet would start to swell—along with her stomach. Now that the entire town knew of her pregnancy, she could start shopping for maternity clothes. “Did I ever tell you the executive producers of
Another Dawn
approached me last summer and offered me the role again? Along with a generous signing bonus.”

Maureen tucked the letter into the envelope. “No, but I wondered. I take it you turned them down?”

She nodded. “I like my life here. At least, I did before Alan Rand came to town. I guess it could be worse, though,” she said, suppressing a shiver. “At least Max hasn’t shown up yet.”

“He sounds mentally unstable.”

Rowena shook her head. “Max might go to extremes, but I don’t think he’s actually crazy. Just very controlling. He wants to direct the people in life like he directs the actors on a set.”

“What if the letters never were from Max? What if it was just a coincidence that you stopped receiving them after your confrontation with him?”

“I suppose that’s a possibility.” Then she shook her head. “No, it sounds too much like him to be anyone else. Declaring his undying love at the same time he’s trying to make me feel guilty.”

Maureen set the letter on the counter. “I think you should contact the police. Just to be safe.”

“They won’t be able to do anything. Not on the basis of one letter and not unless Max makes some kind of overt physical threat. I’ve been through this before.” Rowena thought back to those years she’d lived in New York. How isolated she’d felt in a city with over seven million people. Strange how it all seemed like a lifetime ago.

Maureen scowled. “Did this Max ever try to hurt you?”

She hesitated. “One day after shooting on the set, he wanted to take me out to lunch. This was after I’d broken up with him and I knew he wanted to try to resurrect the relationship. When I refused to go, he tracked me down in the parking lot, grabbed my arm and started pulling me toward his car. I was dragged several feet before the security guards finally intervened.”

“That’s horrible,” Maureen exclaimed. “Please tell me he was arrested.”

“I filed a police report, but the producers of the show convinced me not to press charges. They promised to make Max stay away from me, and surprisingly, he did.”

“But you still left the show.”

“Max was just one of the reasons. Did I ever tell you how I got the role of Savannah in the first place?”

Maureen smiled. “No, but I’d love to hear it.”

“I never planned to be an actress. I wanted to be a hairdresser like my mother. Making people feel good about themselves is the best feeling in the world. So I went to cosmetology school, then got lucky enough to land an internship on
Another Dawn
to assist the stylists there. I learned some fabulous tricks of the trade.”

“Like helping my two little girls look good again after they decided to play hairstylist with each other.”

Rowena laughed. “Yes. I love my work. I did back then, too. But one day a director rushed in and grabbed me for a walk-on role.”

“A role that grew into one of the most popular characters on daytime television.”

Rowena nodded. “Max was the director who
discovered
me. Maybe that’s one of the reasons I stayed with him as long as I did. But eventually, I found myself spending more and more time in the hair and makeup station. After the last confrontation with Max, I decided I just wasn’t happy anymore. So I told the show I wanted to leave, and that’s how I ended up here.”

“Do you ever miss acting?”

Rowena smiled. “The acting bug never bit me that hard. I’m perfectly content taking part in the Christmas play every year.”

“We’re lucky to have you,” Maureen said, then her smile faded. “But I’m still concerned about this letter. I think you should at least notify the police in New York and ask them to keep an eye on him.”

“I will if they keep coming,” she promised. “Max must be between girlfriends. Maybe if I just ignore the letter, he’ll leave me alone again. I really don’t believe he’s dangerous.”

Maureen looked doubtful. “I’m not sure you should take the chance. Sometimes waiting for the unknown can be more frightening than confronting it.”

“I know you’re probably right.” Rowena waved Maureen over to the barber’s chair, then picked up her comb and scissors. “But for now I’d rather confront my more immediate problem.”