Unexpected Bride (15 page)

"I would happily pay for your advice," Abby insisted. She needed it now more than she ever had.

"I'd like to work for you," Mrs. McClintock admitted. "Since there's only Rory, I'm not as busy as I'd like to be. I think it would be fun to be a temp, to work different jobs. to have some variety in my life."

Clayton was nothing like his mother. He seemed to like everything the way it was, under his control. That was why he'd never want Abby as part of his life.

"You'd make a great temp," Abby said.

"Then open a branch of Temps to Go here. With the way Cloverville is growing and its proximity to Grand Rapids, you'd have a thriving business in no time."

The idea had appealed to her, but she shook her head. "No."

"Think about it." Mrs. McClintock implored her. "I even have the ideal office space for you. Right next to the McClintock Insurance Agency."

Maybe she was more of a meddler than Abby had liked to think. Was it just a coincidence that the space was still open? Or was this another ploy, like Clayton picking her up at the airport, to throw the two of them together? Was Mrs. Mick also behind Molly's request that Abby stay in town?

She shrugged off the notion. Mrs. Mick wasn't that devious. And Abby
had
considered the empty office in Clayton's building to be an ideal space. "I don't think I could get along with the landlord, though." Without killing him.

Mrs. McClintock shook her head. "Give Clayton time. He just has to get used to Abby Hamilton being grown up."

"I have a daughter. I'm a businesswoman."And still, he didn't respect her.

"You have to give him time to absorb all that." That was why she'd sprinted home to pack. She didn't want to give him time, but even more than giving him time, she didn't want to give herself time to fall for him. Abby shook her head. "I can't stay in Cloverville." Mrs. McCHntock lifted the clothes from the suitcase and put them back in the open dresser drawers. "Yes, you can, Abby. You're home. You just need time to accept that."

Because she loved the older woman, she couldn't argue with her. Not now. She would wait until they heard from Molly, and then she'd pack up and head the hell out of Cloverville as quickly as she'd run away once before.

"She's on the phone." The screen door hadn't even shut behind Clayton before his mother made the announcement.

"Molly's on the phone?" he asked as he joined her in the big country kitchen where his family had spent so much of their lives.

Focusing on the dishes in the sink, she shook her head. "Abby. Isn't that who you've come to see?"

"Why would you assume that?" he asked. Who, besides the best man, had witnessed their kiss on the dance floor?

"Defensive, much?" Rory goaded him as he galloped through the kitchen doorway with a giggling Lara on his back, her arms wound so tight around his neck that his voice was a bit strangled.

Lucky kid.
Clayton couldn't count the number of times he'd been tempted to choke the teenager.

His mom reached for the little girl, but Rory charged around the kitchen island, avoiding her. "Rory! Don't go shaking up Lara. She just ate."

"We ate a while ago," Rory argued. Rory always argued. "I know because I'm hungry already."

"You're always hungry," his mother countered, shaking her head as an affectionate twinkle crept into her eyes. Rory was her baby, and she always caved and spoiled him rotten. Maybe Clayton needed to tell her just how much trouble her
baby
had gotten into lately. But he hated to worry her—she'd done so
much
worrying.

"He's the one she's going to get sick on," Clayton pointed out to his mother. "Lara, you have to kick him like you would a horse, to get him to go faster."

The child stared at him with curious eyes.

"You know, pretend you have spurs like the cowboys do." If she were half as strong as her mother, she'd probably have Rory writhing on the kitchen floor. His brother took off again, before his rider could spur him to go faster.

"Clayton!" His mother's voice rose as she swatted his shoulder with a dish towel. "I'm sure Abby doesn't want her daughter getting sick."

"So Abby's on the phone?" he asked. "You're sure she's not talking to Molly?"

"I hope not."

"Mom!" Her reaction floored him. His mother had seemed to take in stride Molly running out on her wedding. He'd never suspected she was as angry as he'd been. Of course, he'd been madder at Abby than Molly.

"I want to hear from my daughter," his mother assured him. "But the minute we know Molly's fine, Abby will be leaving us." She sighed. "She was going to leave this afternoon."

After their kiss.

"But I talked her into staying. Of course, she might have changed her mind again. For all I know, she's on the phone with the airport."

Clayton's stomach clenched, as if someone had driven spurs into him. Not that he should be surprised. He knew how much Abby hated Cloverville. She'd only come home for Molly's wedding, to talk Molly out of marrying her groom. He waited for his anger to return, but nothing happened. He'd rather have paid for a welcome home party for Abby than a wedding for Molly, if his sister was going to be miserable in the marriage.

"Where is she?" If she was using her cell phone, she might not even be in the house.

"In your father's den."

His stomach clenched even tighter. He hadn't been in that paneled room since his father died. The den was
where
his father had died. Too weak to climb stairs to his bedroom on the second floor, his father had spent the last days of his life in a hospital bed in his den, slowly and painfully dying. Clayton couldn't go in there, not even to talk to Abby.

"So you don't know who she's talking to?" he persisted.

His mother shrugged. "I had her use the den, so she'd have some privacy. She said she had some calls to make. I didn't pry to find out who she was calling, but I know it's not a boyfriend. She's single—like you."

But Abby wasn't single. She had Lara, who rode in again on his brother's back. But this time she wasn't giggling. "You bummed her out," Rory accused Clayton. "Now she's worried about cowboys kicking horses."

"They don't hurt them," Clayton insisted as he reached out for the little girl. She unwound her arms from around Rory's neck and put a hand on Clayton's shoulder as he held her. Her blue eyes were serious as she stared into his face.

"Aren't spurs sharp?" she asked.

"Good going," Rory murmured as he opened the refrigerator door and peered inside at the contents.

His young brother was right. He also had two softhearted sisters, and he should have known better than to mention any possibility of an animal being harmed.

"The spurs don't hurt the horses" he said, although he had no way of knowing for certain if that was true. He was hardly a cowboy. Maybe if he were, he'd be more like Abby's type. Yet, she'd insisted she didn't go for the type he'd suspected. He doubted she'd spoken the truth when she'd confessed to going for
his
type—she'd only been teasing him, as she always had.

But she had kissed him back.

The kiss,
kisses,
hadn't meant anything, though. To either of them. Last night he'd succumbed to temptation and today to aggravation. Abby Hamilton never failed to aggravate him. Even now, while she used his father's den. He hated the thought of anyone but his father making use of that room.

"You promise?" Lara asked, gazing up at him through her long, thick lashes.

His heart skipped a beat, she looked so much like her mother. He leaned his forehead against hers and assured her, "Horses are tough."

"Not this horse," Rory griped as he swung the refrigerator door shut. 'This horse is tired and hungry. Mom, there's nothing to eat. I'm going to walk into town and get some ice cream."

"You're grounded," Clayton reminded his brother. He should have grounded him for life over the spiked punch, especially after he'd heard a few other people had gotten glasses of it before the bartender had dumped out the bowl.

Instead of sputtering that Clayton wasn't his father. Rory shrugged and walked out of the kitchen. Lara wriggled down from Clayton's arms and skipped out after her "horse."

His mother turned on Clayton, using the very words Rory had refrained from shouting this time. "You're not his father."

Coming from her, the words hurt even more than when Rory hurled them. "Mom?"

"You're taking on too much responsibility—just like your father was afraid you would."

Clayton stepped back, staggered by his mother's comment. He'd never known his dad had worried about him.

His mom's eyes softened sympathetically. "That's why he insisted you finish college."

Clayton had wanted to drop out when his father was diagnosed with cancer. But his dad hadn't allowed him to come home then. He'd forced him to stay in school.

"None of that has anything to do with Rory." Clayton shouldn't have kept his younger brother's misdeeds from their mother. "I haven't told you what he's been getting into."

"I know."

"You do?" Had he underestimated his mother, just as he'd underestimated Abby?

"Cloverville's a small town. I've talked to the neighbors and I've talked to his teachers."

"One teacher in particular?" he asked. "Mr. Schipper?"

His mother's face flushed and she patted her hair with a trembling hand. "Maybe."

"Mom, it's okay if you want to start going out."

"I know," she interrupted him. "I don't need my kids' permission to start dating."

But maybe she thought she needed her dead husband's permission. ''Mom, if you ever want to talk, you know I'm here for you. Right?"

"We're talking about Rory."

"So what are you going to do?" he asked, accepting the fact that she was primarily responsible for her youngest child. Not that Clayton wouldn't help her.

"I was thinking about military school."

Clayton rolled his head back again, shocked.

"But then Abby talked to him."

"What?" He'd realized he was losing control over Rory, but he had wanted to handle his brother without upsetting his mother—and especially without involving Abby Hamilton.

"And he apologized."

Clayton laughed, amused by how easily his brother charmed their mother. "C'mon, Mom. Rory knows how to work you."

She shook her head. "He was sincere. He promised he'd slop hanging around the Hendrix boys."

He opened his mouth, then shut it. holding in his doubts about Abby's ability to influence Rory and the teenager's promises to behave. "So you're letting him off the hook?"

She nodded. "Until he screws up again."

"Then it's military school?"

"That's what
he
thinks," she said, smiling. Then she called out for the teenager. Instead of taking his usual sweet time to answer his mother, Rory trotted back into the room, Lara riding his back again. "If you wait until Abby gets off the phone," she told him, "we can all walk to town together. Lara, would you like some ice cream?"

"Yes, please," the child said, perfectly polite.

"Clayton, do you want to join us?"

"For ice cream?"

"Yes"