Unsung (9 page)

Beth had probably just thought Harper needed to see the doctor for a routine checkup or something. She probably hadn't guessed that her friend was pregnant. But she didn't ask any questions or comment at all when Mel came with them. She just nodded before she turned and led them down the hallway.

“Weight first.” Beth stopped in front of the scale. Harper handed her purse to Mel before she got on.

Hey, every little bit counted.

But when she saw the number that Beth jotted down, she cringed. She'd lost twenty pounds in the last few months, and though she didn't think that all of it was post getting pregnant, she knew that some of it was and concern for the baby filled her, causing her chest to tighten and that ever-present anxiety to perk up.

Well, her blood pressure number was going to be awesome now, wasn't it?

A
n hour later it was official.
Officially
official. Harper was pregnant and due at the end of January.

This
was
happening.

She was now sitting at a booth in Café Lula with Grace on one side of her and Mel sitting across from them. They were all munching on some ginger cookies that Grace had whipped up.

They'd apparently worked wonders on Grace's nauseous stomach when she'd been pregnant. She had high hopes that those—along with the cup of herbal tea that was going down sip by sip—would do the same for Harper.

So far it was working…and she was only slightly jealous of the caffeine glaze in both Grace's and Mel's eyes as they enjoyed their morning coffee.

The doctor had said it could take a month or two before things evened out and her appetite got back to normal. Until then she was going to try to see if the anti-nausea meds she'd been prescribed combined with some natural remedies would do the trick.

She really didn't have any other options.

“Okay. So what's the plan of attack?” Grace asked. “When are you telling him?”

“Yeah.” Mel nodded as she put her mug down on the table. “Are you calling him, or going there? Or what?”

“I don't know yet.” Harper chewed on her bottom lip. “This isn't exactly information I want to tell him over the phone. But seeing him again is going to be complicated.”

“Sweetie, I think from here on out we're going to have to deal with
everything
being complicated,” Grace said before she took another sip of her coffee.

“I know,” Harper groaned, dropping her head and gently banging it against the table.

“Okay, I have a thought that might prevent you from doing that,” Mel said as she patted the back of Harper's head. “I don't think giving yourself a concussion is the answer.”

Harper lifted her head and looked across the table at her friend. “What's your plan?”

“Give yourself the week. It hasn't even been thirty minutes since we left the doctor and this was all
really
official. And I think you should get out of town this weekend.”

“What?” Harper asked.

“Give yourself a second to breathe,” Grace agreed.

“And do what?”

“Come to Jacksonville for the Stampede party. Dale's mom can't go so there's an extra ticket and hotel room.” Mel grabbed a cookie and dipped it in her coffee. “You should get away for a few days.”

“Because we all know how well getting away worked for me the last time I did it.” Harper made a motion to her stomach over the table.

“This time it will be different. You'll have a responsible chaperone, and I will be sure not to leave you on your own,” Mel said. “Come on. You should take advantage of a little distraction.”

As the team was celebrating winning the Stanley Cup, the Stampede party promised to be a big event. And would probably be filled with distractions galore. Abby Fields's boyfriend, Logan James, was one of the bigger players on the team, and he'd developed a number of relationships with some of the members of Mirabelle. The two most important being Mel's little brother Hamilton O'Bryan, and his best friend Dale Rigels.

It had been a few months before Dale's seventeenth birthday when the doctors had found the brain tumor. The surgery to remove it had been done immediately and he'd gone through chemo afterward. Now he was three months into remission. Logan had come to visit Dale during his recovery, and they'd kept up with each other ever since.

As Mel's husband Bennett had become a bit of a mentor, and big brother to both boys, he and Mel were going with them to play chaperone. So what was one more person to watch over? Even if she was a grown-ass adult?

Harper grabbed another cookie and bit into it; she might as well take the time while she had it…because everything was about to change very soon.

Who was she kidding? It already was changing.

Had
changed.

On a normal day Harper worked until after five, sometimes six. But that day was not a normal day. Not only had it been incredibly slow, but she finished up before three, which was the biggest godsend.

If someone were to ask her what had happened that day, it would've been hard for her to remember. She'd pretty much just gone through the motions of everything. But how could she focus when she couldn't shut her brain off from the all-consuming anxiety and worry…or continuously thinking of
how
she was going to tell Liam.

Before she knew it, she was pulling up in front of her parents' house and putting her Cruiser in Park. She leaned back in the seat, taking just a moment to collect herself before she went inside.

The rule of show
no weakness
around her mother was more important than ever. There would be no pregnancy revelations to anyone else until she told Liam. At least she knew that much.

She took another couple of steady breaths as her eyes focused on the two three-story Victorian houses in front of her.

Harper's family had moved to Mirabelle fifteen years ago. It was right before she was about to start middle school and she hadn't been exactly thrilled about leaving her life in Atlanta. But now she couldn't imagine growing up anywhere else.

The two houses were pretty much smack dab in the middle of downtown and they stood about thirty yards apart. Besides the different paint colors—one sage green, the other dark blue—they were identical in every way.

Well, there was another difference. The green one was a residential home and where Harper lived from the age of eleven to eighteen. The blue was the St. Francis Veterinary Clinic…though a case could be made that Harper had spent almost as much time there as the house.

Her father had inherited the clinic from his uncle, and as it was the only vet in the area, it stayed pretty busy. She'd always been there helping out especially when they'd started the pet adoption/foster portion.

Mirabelle was part of Atticus County, and the only animal shelter in the area was a kill shelter. So for a couple of years, the clinic had been the temporary home to as many cats and dogs that could be taken in and saved from being euthanized. Harper would spend many hours playing with them and giving them as much attention as possible.

These days, there were a number of foster homes that would take in the animals until they were adopted. It was a much better option than them living in cages for weeks on end.

Or being put down.

The St. Francis Foster Pet Adoption program was one of the reasons that Harper needed to stop by her parents' house. Her mother was putting together baskets for a fund-raiser, and she'd asked for some of Harper's lotions and oils.

Which was something Harper found
beyond
interesting.

There were a number of things that Delilah Laurence didn't approve of, and her daughter's career choice was near the top. Though this didn't stop her from hitting Harper up for the homemade “lotions and potions” that everyone else
loved,
not to mention a donated gift certificate for massage “services rendered” had been requested more times than could be counted.

None of that changed the facts: a massage therapist was
not
a way to make a living.

The words had never actually been spoken, but Harper was pretty sure that was one of the reasons her mother had liked Brad so much. He was successful. So when her career as a massage therapist failed her “husband” would be able to take care of her.

Not only had that not worked out, but now Harper was pregnant without any husband at all.

Oh, look at that, her anxiety was spiking again.

Well, might as well give herself a small reprieve and go over to see her father before she had to face the firing squad that was her mother. The constant contention that she had with her mother was non-existent in the relationship she had with her father. She was a daddy's girl through and through.

When she walked inside the clinic she was greeted with the customary squawk of Gabby, the white and yellow cockatoo perched at the currently empty receptionist desk. The bird had been surrendered to the practice ten years ago when the owner died, and was now the unofficial mascot of the practice.

“Hello.” Gabby flapped her wings as she adjusted on the stand.

Harper walked over to her, always the first order of business when she visited, and scratched the bird's chest. “Hey, pretty girl,” she purred. Gabby's feathers ruffled in delight at the attention. “Where is everybody?”

“Getting our middle of the day caffeine fix.” A deep voice—along with boots walking across the hardwood floor—echoed down the hall behind the desk.

Harper looked over just as Finn Shepherd walked into the reception area.

Until about a year ago, her father had not only owned the sole practice in Mirabelle, but he'd been the only vet. When Finn had graduated from veterinary school and moved back, he'd been hired onto the practice. The additional doctor had been more than needed. The workload having increased significantly over the years, and as her father was getting older it was a bit of a worry for Harper.

As it turned out, her father was adjusting just fine to sharing the practice. But as Finn was pretty much the son Paul never had, it wasn't all that surprising. Harper had grown up with Finn. Not only were they in the same year in school, but he'd been in and out of the practice learning everything he could since he was sixteen.

Before Brad had been in the picture, Harper's mother had always wanted her to end up with Finn. Though there was no denying that the man was attractive beyond words—what with his sapphire blue eyes, thick black wavy hair, and black-framed glasses that only added another layer of sexy—she'd always looked at him like a brother. And he'd always looked at her like a sister.

Besides, these days the only man she was thinking about had green-gold eyes and a deep, rich voice that set every part of her on fire. A man that she knew almost nothing about…except that she was in love with him. Oh, and she was carrying his child.

God, when had her life gotten so complicated?

Well, there was no time to focus on that because five seconds after Finn came into the room, another set of shoes echoed down the hallway. These were definitely heels as opposed to work boots.

“Ohhh, do my ears deceive me or is that one of my favorite girls?” The kind face and gray-haired head of Janet Peterson popped through the doorway, her own steaming cup of coffee in hand.

Harper was only slightly bitter that she couldn't join in with her own cup. She was exhausted and really wishing she could get a little pick-me-up, too. Even with her limited coffee intake over the last couple of weeks, she was still a caffeine junkie. Admitting it was half the battle.

But as Janet's coffee was usually strong enough for a spoon to stand up straight, Harper wasn't going to tempt fate or mess with the delicate balance of her stomach. Besides, she shouldn't be drinking the stuff now anyway.

Janet was pretty much the backbone of the clinic, and it ran on more than just her coffee-making skills. She'd been working the receptionist desk for the last thirty years, and was still going strong in her sixties.

Before Harper could even respond to the question Janet asked, the woman had set down the coffee mug and pulled her into one of those soul-affirming hugs. Really, Harper should stop by every day just for one of these.

When Janet pulled back, Paul walked into the room, his mouth splitting into that customary grin when he laid eyes—the exact same shade as Harper's—on his daughter.

No matter what was going on, at least some things hadn't changed.

“Hey, sweet pea.” He pulled Harper into his arms, giving her a kiss on the temple like he always did, before he let go and took a step back.

“Hey, Daddy.”

“You get off early?” he asked, checking his watch.

“Yeah, my last appointment canceled. And it was a bit of a slow day.”

“It's been slow here, too,” Janet said as she reached for her coffee and took a sip. But the words were barely out of her mouth when the door behind them opened.

Gabby squawked again—no need for a bell over the door when they had this bird—as Tripp Black walked into the building. Tripp was Mirabelle's resident fire chief, a job he'd had for the last two and half years ever since he'd moved to the area. He was another insanely attractive man with thick brown hair, and warm chocolate brown eyes. But again, Harper had only ever been friends with the man.

As he was wearing his navy blue uniform pants and a gray polo with the Mirabelle Fire logo, she was guessing he was on duty. He made his way into the room and she noticed he was cradling a rather large ball of white and brown fur in his massive arms.

The ball of fluff shifted, or should she say balls. There were two puppies in Tripp's arms, and while one lifted its head from the crook of his elbow, the other burrowed deeper into his chest whining.

“Didn't know where else to take them. Someone abandoned these little guys at the station. No one even saw them drop the cardboard box at the door, but we did hear the barking.”

This was a better alternative than what most people did, which was abandon their unwanted animals on the side of the road. Something Harper would never understand for as long as she lived.

That was what happened to Luna. She'd been no more than two months old when someone found her wandering through a neighborhood. She had no collar, was starving, and covered in fleabites. Her father had never seen the dog before the day she'd been brought in, so he'd had no idea who the owner was.

Weeks went by with no one looking for or claiming the puppy. As Harper had been the one fostering her—and had gotten attached faster than it took to blink—the adoption had been obvious.