Angel's Rest (18 page)

“Wow,” Sage said.

Nic blew out a breath. “There’s a photograph in the envelope. Look.”

Nic held up a sepia-toned photo of a lovely young woman. Around her neck she wore a silver locket engraved with the silhouette of an angel’s wings. Sarah said, “That’s the locket Zach found with the remains. It’s her. The Cellar Bride was Winifred Smith.”

“Daniel Murphy’s lost angel,” Sage spoke in a soft tone.

As Nic stared at the photo, sadness filled her heart. “She’s been here all along. At Cavanaugh House.”

“Not Cavanaugh House,” Celeste said. “Not any longer. I’ve been searching for the perfect name for our healing center and spa, and now I have found it. My dear friends, though our winter is far from over, spring waits on the horizon. Old wrongs will be righted and healing will come to Eternity Springs. The first step has been taken here, at Angel’s Rest.”

“Angel’s Rest,” Sage repeated. “I like it.”

Sarah pursed her lips in thought, then nodded. “It’s a great name. It’s a perfect fit.”

Nic met Celeste’s gaze. “We need to tell Zach. We need to bring her back and give her a proper burial.”

“We will.” Celeste’s smile warmed the room. “In good time. As soon as Eternity’s long winter is over.”

For a long moment, the room remained silent but for the hissing and crackling of the fire. Then Celeste, being Celeste, shifted from wise woman to girlfriend and said, “Now, how about we pop in the DVD? I have a hankering to see the new year in with Bond, James Bond. Sarah? Pass me the cookies, would you, please?”

Nic gave the pastry bag in her hand another twist to move the pink icing toward the tip and asked herself one more time why she’d volunteered to help Sarah bake cookies for the Father-Daughter Valentine’s Day dance. Ordinarily she enjoyed the event, held annually at Eternity Springs Community School. She adored seeing the little girls all dressed up and standing on top of their daddies’ shoes as they danced around the gymnasium. It brought back good memories of Uncle David and the way he’d stepped up to the plate, insisting she attend the dance with him her first year in Eternity Springs despite the fact she’d considered herself too old for such nonsense.

Secretly she’d been delighted. Her father certainly never would have participated in such an event. Even before Bryce P. Randall III turned his back on Nic’s mother, he’d had little to do with his accidental offspring.

In contrast, Uncle David treated her like a princess. His princess. That first year he had bought her a wrist corsage for the Father-Daughter Valentine’s Day dance, led her out onto the dance floor, and taught her the basic steps of a waltz. She’d fallen head over heels in love with both her uncle and the annual event that night.

This year was different. This year the very concept of Valentine’s Day left her feeling a little sick. Mostly, though, she was angry. Fiercely, hotly, savagely, insanely, every-appropriate-adverb-she-could-think-of angry.

She needed a good, complicated animal case at the clinic to distract her. Instead, all she had on her books were shots for a cat and boarding for two dogs. It was difficult to make a living as a vet this time of year in Eternity Springs.

As she traced pink icing around the edge of a cookie, her telephone rang. She set down the pastry bag, sucked a smear of sweetness off her finger, and rose to answer it. She didn’t bother to check caller ID before lifting the receiver and saying, “Hello?”

“Nic. Hi. This is Gabe Callahan.”

Gabe. Her fist tightened around the receiver as she calmly said, “Hello.”

“I, uh, returned to Colorado last night. I left in a hurry and forgot my phone. Thanks for picking up the dog, by the way. My trip came up out of the blue. I hope you’ve been able to find a home for him since I’ve been gone. Anyway, now that I’ve recharged my cell, I see that you called?”

Only two dozen times. At least
. Nic’s gaze fastened on the water bowl on her floor as she asked, “Can we talk? In person?”

Again, another pause. “Okay.”

“I’m making cookies for an event at the high school the day after tomorrow, so I’m tied to my kitchen for a while. Can you come by here?”

“Sure. When?”

“As soon as possible.”

After a moment’s pause he said, “I’m in town. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

Nic closed her eyes. Okay. All right. She was ready.

No, she needed more time.

You don’t need more time. You’ve been trying to reach him for the past two weeks
. “Good. I’ll see you then.”

She thumbed the disconnect button, then stood for a moment, staring at the phone. “Heaven help me.”

Like a prisoner approaching the gallows, she climbed the stairs to her bedroom. There she made a quick swipe through her hair with a brush and added a little blush to her uncommonly pale cheeks. She glanced down at her shirt, frowned at the icing smudges, then moved to her closet and perused her choices. She picked black. It suited her mood.

When the doorbell rang, she straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, and lifted her chin.
You can do this. You know what you want, know what you need. You can do this
.

He wore faded jeans and a blue chambray shirt. He’d had a haircut since Christmas and he looked tanned and rested. Rested! He was rested, and she hadn’t slept for weeks.

“Hello, Nic.”

“Gabe. Come on in.” As he stepped inside, Nic was tempted to slam the door behind him. He paused in the entry hall, and while his expression remained impassive, she recognized his discomfort at being here. It was obvious. He looked anywhere but at her.

Tiger came galloping down the stairs from his favorite afternoon lying-in-the-sunshine-spot in front of the window in her bedroom. He jumped excitedly around Gabe, who looked happy for the distraction of the dog.

“Hey there, boy,” he said, scratching the boxer behind the ears. “How you doing? Have you been behaving while I was gone?”

It was the most attention she’d seen Gabe pay the dog since the first day she’d met him. The boxer’s tail wagged so fast it stirred up a breeze.

As Nic waited for the lovefest to end, the timer buzzed
on her oven, so she turned and headed for the kitchen. The pale yellow tile and muted green cabinets dated to the fifties, and while not the epitome of fashion, the room served as the very heart of her home. Here she was comforted. From here she drew strength. Strength she knew she’d need in the moments to come.

Gabe trailed after her and stood poised in the doorway as she set a hot tray of cookies on a rack to cool. He folded his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “Cookies smell good.”

If that was a hint, she was ignoring it. He could just starve.

He tried again. “I heard that y’all solved the big mystery and identified the Cellar Bride. Good work.”

Nic wasn’t in the mood for small talk. “Where have you been?”

“The Caribbean, then South America. I tagged along with Jack Davenport on his work trip. It took longer than we expected.” He took a deep breath, then added, “Nicole, about what happened Christmas Eve—”

“Don’t.” She cut him off. “Please, just let me say this. I’ve been trying to reach you the past couple of weeks. I didn’t know how to find you. I began to think this would be a rerun of Sarah’s situation. I need to tell you …” She closed her eyes, exhaled a heavy breath.
Say it. Now. Just say it
. Nic squared her shoulders, stared him straight in the eyes, and announced, “I’m pregnant.”

Gabe closed his eyes. The unacknowledged dread that had swirled in his gut since he’d turned on his phone to see he’d missed a number of calls from Nic swamped him.
No. Please, no
.

Maybe he’d heard her wrong. Hadn’t he heard her wrong? Or could it be a joke? A really bad joke?

He looked at her. She didn’t look like she was joking. She looked upset. Annoyed. A little scared.

Whoa
.

“Did you hear me?”

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t have forced words out of his mouth right then if his life had depended on it. He blinked hard. His heart pounded. Blood roared in his ears.

She’s pregnant?
He closed his eyes and dragged a hand over his face.
No. Dear Lord, no
. Let him be asleep. Let this be a dream so that it wasn’t a nightmare. She couldn’t be pregnant. This wasn’t happening.
I can’t do this again
.

Daddy, look! They’re starting to bubble! Bubble bubble bubble bubble
.

He filled his lungs with cookie-scented air. He’d gone cold and clammy inside, but his mouth was desert dry. This had to be a joke. It
had
to be! With effort, he croaked out a reply. “You’re kidding, right?”

She folded her arms. “No, I assure you, I’m not kidding. We had sex. We didn’t use anything. I’m pregnant.”

Gabe raked his fingers through his hair, locking his fingers atop his head as scenes from Christmas Eve flashed through his mind. He’d been drunk but not that drunk, cold and dark and desperate. She’d been blond and beautiful, light and bright and oh so hot. “Okay … yeah … we were careless. But I did think about it afterward. You’re on the pill.”

“What?” Shock registered on her face. “Why in heaven’s name would you think that?”

“I saw them. The blister pack. In your purse.”

“And what were you doing in my purse?”

He took another deep breath and blew it out hard, clearing the fog from his head. Panic rushed into the void as his thoughts spun back to early December. Restlessly
he paced the small kitchen. “Remember that day at Cavanaugh House when the dog got mud all over you and you wanted to go home to change? You asked me to bring you your keys out of your backpack. I saw the package. Not in your purse, but in your backpack.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Baffled, she shook her head. “I didn’t have … oh.”

“You remember?”

“That wasn’t birth control. That was Celeste’s blood pressure medicine. I’d picked up her refill when I was in Gunnison.”

“Oh.”

“So that’s why you didn’t bother with a condom? You thought I was on the pill?”

He hesitated, then confessed, “Honestly, on Christmas Eve … I didn’t think at all, Nic.”

She closed her eyes and sounded defeated when she said, “Yeah. Me either.”

Gabe began to pace the small kitchen. “I’m sorry I didn’t call. Afterward. I tried to make myself call you Christmas Day, but I hadn’t quite worked up the nerve by the time Jack arrived. We left shortly thereafter.”

He’d been running away. Away from Christmas. Away from the anniversary of the accident. Away from his own behavior with Nic. He’d spent two weeks on a Caribbean beach, then when Jack got called to assist in a hostage rescue operation in Bolivia, he’d gone along to help. “I was ashamed, Nic. I pretty much attacked you.”

Nic shrugged.

“I wasn’t fighting you off. It wasn’t a fine moment for either of us.”

Gabe linked his fingers behind his neck and stared down at the floor. “I swear, I don’t believe this. Jennifer and I tried to get pregnant for a year and a half before it finally worked. I can’t believe that only one time …”

“You are not questioning your paternity of this child, are you?” she asked, a cautionary note in her tone.

He waved his hand. “No. No. Not at all. I just can’t believe the bad luck that—”

“Whoa.” Her chin came up and challenge lit her eyes. “Stop right there. Let’s get something straight right from the beginning here. You will not refer to this child as bad luck or a mistake or any other negative term. My own father did that, and it’s an ugly thing.”

“You’re right. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just … my wife had so much trouble getting pregnant. Are you absolutely sure about this? Maybe stress has delayed your period. Maybe—”

“I took four pregnancy tests,” she interrupted. “Then I saw my ob-gyn in Gunnison. You gave me a gift Christmas Eve, Santa Claus, and just in case you’re wondering, I’m not giving it back. I’m having this child.”

She was having this child. His child. A baby. Another baby. It was a done deal. Cells dividing and multiplying. Way too late to go back and grab a rubber. He pulled the chair out from the table and sank into the seat. He didn’t want this. Absolutely, positively didn’t want another child. He couldn’t bear to love another child.

Couldn’t bear to lose another child.

Then you should have kept your dick in your pants
. In a low, disgusted voice, he murmured, “I’ve done some stupid, irresponsible things in my life, but this one takes the cake.”

Nic sighed and took the seat across from him. “Look, you and I both know that you weren’t in your right mind that night. The fact is, I wasn’t, either. I could have said no. I should have said no. But I was lonely and sad and it was Christmas. The situation got out of hand. We got out of hand. We’re both responsible. We were both wrong.”

She folded her hands atop the table and leaned forward, her tone earnest, as she continued, “But, Gabe, this child isn’t wrong. This child can
never
be considered wrong. I can’t emphasize this enough. I know what that’s like, and I
will not
have it for my baby.”