An Accidental Mom (6 page)

“Kids,” she said to Lily, “never get too old to lay a guilt trip on you.” Rolling her eyes, she sighed. “Sorry for snapping your head off, son.”

“Yeah,” he said, laughing, “
that
sounded sincere!”

“Where’s Nate?” she asked, changing the subject.

He pointed. “Over there, with the pastor’s kids. He’s lovin’ it here.”

Georgia nodded. “It’s good to see him so happy.”

“And healthy,” Lily put in.

He looked at her then, as if seeing her for the first time. “Right,” he agreed, smiling sheepishly. Pocketing both hands, he said, “So, how have you been?”

“Fine.” She squirmed on her chair. “You?”

Max nodded, lips pressed tightly together. “Fine. Fine.”

“You look a little tired,” she admitted, “here, around the eyes.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Nah. It’s eyestrain. I’ve been getting Mom’s books in order.” Max shot Georgia a feigned stern glance. “It’s been a while since she balanced the checkbook.”

“Honestly,” she huffed, “do you have to air
all
my bad habits?”

The three of them grinned nervously for a moment before Max broke the silence. “Lemonade, ladies?”

“None for me, thanks,” Lily said, standing. She didn’t know how much longer she could remain this close to him without crying. Because, like it or not, she loved him still; admitting he didn’t feel the same way—and never would—hurt. Cut deep. Time healed all wounds, as the sages promised, but Lily had a feeling she needed distance every bit as much as she needed time. She headed for the card table that held bottles of soda, lemonade and iced tea. “Take it easy, Georgia,” she said, waving.

“Wait,” Max said, grabbing her elbow when he caught up with her. “What’s your hurry?”

Lily lifted her chin a notch. “I’m not in a hurry. I just saw—” she picked someone out of the crowd at random “—Cammi over there. I forgot to ask her something earlier.”

“Really?” he said, a suspicious smile on his face. “What?”

Pursing her lips, she said, “Something to do with the wedding. Girl stuff.” He hadn’t let go of her elbow, she noticed; the warmth of his big hand spread all the way to her fingertips. He stood so close she could inhale the crisp manly scent of his aftershave. She missed him desperately, though they’d never been anything but friends. But that didn’t stop her from wanting more, from dreaming and praying for more. Knowing she’d never have it was enough to break her heart.

Lord,
she prayed,
save me or I’ll fall apart right here in front of him!

Lily tugged free of his grasp and hurried to where Cammi stood, arm in arm with her fiancé.

“Hey, kiddo,” Reid said when she walked up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she snapped. “What makes you ask a question like that?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” her future brother-in-law replied. “Maybe that ‘I just lost my best friend’ look on your face?”

She’d never been a crybaby, had never been one to give in to tears. For a reason she couldn’t explain, Lily felt a sob aching in her throat. It wasn’t likely she’d actually
cry,
but just in case, before the dam burst, she ran to the ladies’ room.

“What did I say?” she heard Reid ask Cammi.

“I’ll find out what’s wrong,” her sister said as the door swung shut.

Lily locked herself in a stall and pressed her forehead to the cool, pink-metal wall. What was
wrong
with her? She’d had years to get used to the idea that Max would never be part of her future. Nothing had changed, so why the tears?

“Lily? Are you okay in there?”

She nodded, and then, realizing Cammi couldn’t see it, said, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

“You want to talk about it?”

She shook her head. “No. Not really.”

“It’s about Max, isn’t it. I saw you two talking earlier. You want me to sic Reid on him? He can fix it so the lout wears black eyes and a swollen lip for weeks.”

Lily snickered. “Thanks, but I’d hate for Reid’s fingers to be too swollen next week to wear his wedding band.” She opened the stall door and stepped
into the comforting circle of her sister’s open arms. “Oh, Cammi,” she sighed, biting back tears. “What’s wrong with me?”

Cammi held her at arm’s length. “Not a thing. It’s
Max
who has the problem.”

She wrinkled her forehead. “Max? But—”

“He could have the sweetest, prettiest girl in Texas for his own, if he’d just open up his eyes and see what’s right in front of his face.”

“His very handsome face,” Lily said, grinning.

“Okay, so he’s cute. I’ll give him that much.” Cammi walked to the sink, jerked a brown paper towel from the dispenser. “But he isn’t as smart as I thought he was.” She dampened the towel, then pressed it to Lily’s cheeks. “He’s got some silly notion that life is a ledger book where everything is black and white.”

She took the towel, dried her eyes with a corner of it. “I don’t get it.”

“You don’t fit nice and neat in a column, and until he can find a way to make things between you add up…”

Lily gave a deep sigh. “You’re giving me a headache,” she teased. “You know I never was any good at math.”

Cammi laughed and draped an arm over her sister’s shoulder. “Yeah, right. The gal who has kept dad’s ranch running for a decade, all by herself, isn’t good at math.”

“That’s different. It’s—”

“Black and white. I know.” She opened the door and led Lily back into the church hall. “Look around
you, kiddo,” she said, a bent forefinger guiding Lily’s chin. “There are other fish in the sea, as they say.” She kissed her sister’s cheek. “Your problem is, you have an aversion to worms. Can’t bait the ol’ hook if—”

Lily laughed. “I feel that headache coming on again.”

“Well, if you’re okay, I’m going to get a slice of peach pie for Reid, before it’s all gone. It’s his favorite, you know.”

Nodding, Lily winked. “I’m fine. Go ‘do’ for your man.” She gave her a playful shove. She had no idea what kind of pie Max preferred, or whether he preferred it to cake, or how he voted in the last election, or if he liked classical music. She didn’t know his favorite color, or if he wore glasses to watch TV. She knew he liked fishing, but only because she’d overheard Nate telling Dr. Prentice about the fishhook in his thumb.

So what are you blubbering about?
Lily asked herself. It seemed ridiculous, getting all teary-eyed and heartbroken over a guy she knew so little about, a guy who barely had given her the time of day. The concept brightened her mood.

Until she saw him, laughing at something Reid had said. She might not know if peach was his favorite pie, but she knew this:

She loved him. Always had.

And always would.

L
ily sat at the head table, pretending to enjoy the filet mignon and caramelized potatoes on the gold-rimmed china dinner plate in front of her. Lamont had gone all out, a string quartet playing “The Wedding March” in the church balcony, biggest banquet hall in the hotel, Amarillo’s best chef. Everything looked wonderful, right down to the fluted vases where colorful Japanese fighting fish swam in the center of each table. The bride looked like a fantasy princess in her designer gown and veil, and the groom, her storybook prince.

If happiness could be measured by looks alone, the newly married Mr. and Mrs. Reid Alexander would live in bliss from this day forth. Lily knew the union would be rock solid, forever, and not because of gauzy veils, satin-lapeled tuxedos and thousands of white roses. Cammi and her new husband had been the perfect love match, from the moment they crashed into one another outside of Georgia’s Diner. Why per
fect? For starters, both loved the Lord with all their hearts.

Lily wanted a love like that—a marriage like her sister’s would surely be. She sighed and sipped ice water from a crystal goblet. Fat chance of that happening if she couldn’t get over this thing for Max Sheridan. She’d been compiling a “Reasons It Won’t Work Out” list, and at the very top, wrote, “‘Yoke ye not to unbelievers….’”

Had Cammi deliberately seated Max so that he faced the head table? Or had it been a ridiculous coincidence? She tried not to look at him, at his dark, shiny curls—her image of male perfection in his tidy gray suit and bloodred tie, smiling as he cut his son’s steak into bite-size pieces. He loved that kid more than anything in his life, and it showed. Didn’t he realize Nate had been God’s greatest gift to him? That alone should give him more than enough reason to believe!

The photographer dashed past, blocking her view of the Sheridan table. She watched the balding, potbellied fellow hurry from table to table, leaning and crouching and kneeling, cameras clicking as he captured guests laughing, dancing, waving and shouting to friends across the banquet hall. The waitstaff bustled in and out, delivering coffee, hustling dirty dishes into the kitchen. The maître d’ pointed the way to the rest rooms as the bandleader announced the title of the next song.

Controlled chaos,
Lily thought, grinning wryly. The scene reminded her of a wedding she’d attended last summer. Cammi had scowled at the groom’s
drunken uncle. “When
I
get married,” she’d steamed, “there had better not be anything like that frozen on film in
my
wedding album!”

The photographer snapped Lily’s picture just then, startling her so badly that she actually said “Eek!” Who said that, she wondered, besides cartoon mice! She blinked past the blue dots floating before her eyes, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Hopefully, when that picture was developed, it wouldn’t upset Cammi.

Lily wasn’t accustomed to wearing her hair this way. Every time she’d tried an updo, unruly wisps escaped, no matter how carefully she secured them. Squinting into the bowl of a sterling soupspoon, she tucked in a wayward curl and checked her lipstick.
Well, you won’t win any beauty contests,
she thought, putting the spoon beside her plate,
but hopefully, you won’t make anyone lose their lunch, either.
Smiling at her little joke, Lily glanced up…directly into Max’s smiling brown eyes.

He’d caught her primping! And his teasing, all-knowing expression told her he’d lumped her in with every other prissy, vain female he’d ever met. Lily groaned inwardly. She’d been watching him from the corner of her eye all during the meal. Why had he picked
that
moment to look up! If only he would take the time to get to know her, he’d realize that fussing with her hair and makeup had never been high on her priority list.

Forcing a grin, Lily returned Max’s snappy little salute and turned to the groomsman seated beside her. “Would you mind passing the salt, please?” she said,
though nothing on her plate needed salting. Really, what did it matter
what
Max Sheridan thought of her, she fumed, absently thanking the tuxedoed gent when he handed her the shaker. It wasn’t as though Max’s opinion of her would enhance their relationship, such as it was.

She forced herself to focus on the conversation at the opposite end of the head table: “We’ve had such unseasonably icy weather for November,” said a bridesmaid. “Plays right into my plans to go skiing over the Thanksgiving holiday,” said another. “Do you have a bandage?” the skier asked. “These newly dyed shoes gave me a blister the size of my nose!” Better to listen to the chitchat than admit that there
was
no relationship between her and Max…and that there likely never would be.

It took all the willpower she could muster to avoid looking toward his table. She knew he was watching her; it seemed his big dark eyes were boring holes into the side of her head. But why would he watch
her,
when at least a dozen eligible bachelorettes had come to the wedding, sans beaus?

“May I have this dance?”

Lily looked into the grizzled face of Hank Gardner, one of her brother-in-law’s ranch hands. It was no secret the man was sweet on her; he’d made sure she knew, every chance he got.

“Oh, go on,” Cammi insisted, giving Lily’s shoulder a gentle nudge. She leaned in close to whisper, “Guess who is watching. Give him an eyeful!”

The sound of butter knives clinking against water goblets interrupted the sisters’ secret conversation.
“Ah,” Cammi sighed, feigning boredom, “a woman’s work is never done.” Then she faced her new husband and gave her guests exactly what they’d asked for.

Hank pulled out Lily’s chair. “C’mon, Lil,” he said, grinning good-naturedly, “song’s half over already!”

Lily let him lead her to the dance floor, where the band was playing an old Patti Page ballad.

“You look gorgeous,” he said, taking her in his arms. “Don’t tell anybody, but I think you’re prettier than the bride.”

“When was the last time you had your eyes checked?” she teased. Leaning back slightly, she wiggled the knot of his silk tie. “I must say, you clean up real good yourself!”

Hank blushed. “Had to borrow it from Reid. Must be eatin’ too many biscuits with supper, ’cause the shirt collar’s a mite snug.” He looked into her eyes as the female singer crooned.

“Nice song,” he said.

“Very nice.” Lily had hummed it dozens of times when trying to soothe an injured animal. “It’s one of my favorites—”

“May I cut in?”

Hank’s brows knitted in the center of his forehead. “I reckon.” But it was obvious to anyone within earshot that he wasn’t any too happy to hand over his dance partner. The cowboy stepped away but held tightly to Lily’s hand. “Be gentle with her, bud,” he told Max, “’cause this purty li’l gal is a genuine blue-ribbon prize.”

Nodding, Max stepped into Hank’s place. “He’s right, you know,” he said once the cowboy had walked away.

How would you know?
she wondered. Max didn’t know her well enough to testify to that.

“You’re the most beautiful woman in the room, bar none.”

Lily felt her face go hot. Heart hammering, she wanted to protest, because in the first place, Cammi was the bride, and in the second…

She was quoting him, Lily realized, with her “first” this and “second” that. Absurd, especially considering how little time she’d spent with him. “You look nice, too.” But the compliment paled against the truth. Max truly
was
the best-looking guy in the room.

She couldn’t seem to get her mind off the warmth of his hand, pressed gently against her lower back as he guided her across the parquet tiles. That, and the way the fingers of his other hand linked almost possessively with hers.

“Nate looks adorable,” she said, mostly to distract herself. “How’s he doing?”

“Pretty well, all things considered.” He paused, touched her chin with a bent forefinger. “I’ve never seen you with your hair up before. Looks gorgeous. Very sophisticated.”

She grinned self-consciously. “You’ve seen it up, plenty of times. Ponytails, braids—remember?”

He pulled her a little closer, ran a fingertip down the bridge of her nose.
“This,”
Max whispered, his nose a mere fraction of an inch from hers, “is not the
girl I remember at all.
This,
” he said, bringing her closer still, “is all woman.”

Lily licked her lips and swallowed. If she didn’t know better, she’d say Max was gearing up to kiss her—right here in the middle of the crowded dance floor, with her father and sisters and the pastor watching.

“Don’t worry,” he said on a chuckle. “You’re safe. There’s a time and a place for everything.”

How could he have known what she’d been thinking? Nothing was making sense, especially considering the way he’d snubbed her these past weeks. What kind of head game was he playing? she asked herself. She ought to walk away, leave him standing there alone.

The song ended, and she admitted she’d never have done anything of the kind. He brushed her cheek with a gentle kiss. “Thanks for the dance,” he whispered into her ear. “It was a real treat.”

She grinned as he headed back to his table.

Strange how, throughout the remainder of the reception, Max managed to find her, no matter what maid of honor duties she was performing. He was there when the best man gave a long-winded toast to the bride and groom. During the father-daughter dance, he surprised her by sliding an arm around her waist. He stood shoulder to shoulder with her, watching as Cammi and Reid cut the wedding cake. And when she joined the unmarried females to compete for the bridal bouquet, Max caught her eye from the other side of the dance floor.

She’d only stepped into line to be a good sport…
and because the photographer literally dragged her there. Lily had no intention of reaching up, of actually trying to catch the flowers. It was a silly superstition, a fun tradition, nothing more.

Was she seeing things, or had Max mouthed
Good luck!
from his side of the floor? Lily never had time to answer, because on the bandleader’s count of three, she reached up without even thinking…and caught the bouquet in one hand.

When her gaze met Max’s, he winked, gave her two thumbs up. It would be interesting to see the wedding album a week or two from now. Would the photograph of her catching the bouquet show a starry-eyed young woman in love…or the look of stunned disbelief she truly felt?

No time to answer that question, either, for it was time to help the bride change into her going-away outfit. Lily had packed her sister’s suitcase, making sure to include the lovely white nightgown a neighbor had given Cammi at the bridal shower.

How long before her dad and their longtime neighbor Nadine would announce
their
plans to wed? Lily wondered as she unfastened dozens of tiny satin-covered buttons on the back of Cammi’s dress. Had she been the only one who’d noticed the way they’d sat all through the reception, staring lovingly into one another’s eyes?

She considered the question as the dwindling number of wedding guests gathered in the lobby of Amarillo’s Grand Hotel to say goodbye to Cammi and Reid. First thing in the morning, the couple would board a Florida-bound jetliner that would take them
to Miami, and from there, they’d cruise the Caribbean. While the band packed up and the last well-wishers finished up the remaining hors d’oeuvres and pastries, Lily began loading beautifully wrapped presents onto a wheeled cart.

A commotion in the lobby captured her attention. Lily ran toward the hotel’s main entrance and stood on tiptoe to see what all the ruckus was about. When she spotted Max on all fours beside his unconscious son, Lily elbowed through the crowd and knelt beside him.

“What happened?”

“Dunno,” he muttered. “He just…collapsed.”

She put a hand on his shoulder. “Where’s your cell phone?”

Hands trembling, he gave it to her. She flipped it open. “Is Dr. Prentice’s number programmed into this thing?”

“No. Uh, I think so. Yeah, under
P.
”

When the phone’s highlighter bar illuminated the doctor’s name, she pressed “Send” and got to her feet. “Don’t you worry, Max,” she said, grabbing her car keys from the tiny purse that matched her gown. “Meet me out front.” She held up two fingers. “Two minutes. I’ll call ahead to the E.R., tell them to expect us.”

Bolting across the parking lot, Lily thanked God that the hospital was only a few blocks from the hotel. “Lord,” she said, revving the motor, “get us there fast, and watch over little Nate in the meantime.”

She pictured the boy’s face…so much paler than when he’d fainted in his grandmother’s diner weeks
ago. Something was wrong, terribly wrong. Had the patch Dr. Prentice placed over the hole in Nate’s heart come loose? The surgeon had said it could happen. Extremely unlikely, but possible.

She parked beside the curb, ran around to the passenger’s side and flung open the door. Max held Nate close as he climbed into the bucket seat.

And hadn’t Dr. Prentice said Nate could bleed to death if that should happen? Lily tried to look confident and smiled bravely as she clicked the seat belt into place across them.

“We really have to stop meeting this way,” he said as she slid behind the steering wheel.

Despite his half grin, she could see that Max was terrified, far more afraid this time than he’d been when they made their last trip to the E.R.

No surprise, Lily thought, because Max had heard Dr. Prentice’s warning, too.

“Sorry, Mr. Sheridan, but you’re not a compatible donor.”

Max looked grim as the doctor added, “It’s fairly common—a parent having a different blood type than his child.”

“Spare me the lesson in hematology, Doc. Just tell me what you’re gonna do to save my son.”

Dr. Prentice took a deep breath, as if summoning patience. “We’re searching the blood bank now. Hard to find AB negative, and that multi-car pileup on the Interstate cost us our last unit of O positive. We’ve put the word out that we need donations. Might take a couple hours.”