The Pregnancy Clause. Elizabeth Sinclair
shrugged. “Kat’s fine.”
He fell silent, remembering how his father had come up with the nickname because of his son’s ability to enter and leave a room without being noticed, a trait that had proven helpful on more than one occasion.
Stirring his coffee, Dave grimaced. “I’m sorry. I guess you don’t want to talk about them, huh?”
Kat laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s been sixteen years since they died in the fire.”
“I know, but when you love someone, it’s hard to forget.”
The sharp pain of their death had dulled with time. What hadn’t diminished was the pain brought on by what he’d found the day he’d sifted through the ashes of the partially burned house. He wondered if that ache would ever fade—or if he’d get any answers.
Dave stood. “Well, I gotta run. I promised Marilyn I’d meet her and go wallpaper shopping.” He grinned. “We’re turning the spare room into a nursery.”
Kat grabbed Dave’s extended hand and shook it, feeling envy eat at him. “Hey, congratulations, Dad. Thanks again. Say hello to Marilyn for me.”
“Will do.” Dave waved and slipped out the door.
Kat watched Dave leave the café. He hadn’t changed since high school. Tall, lanky and devoted to the woman he’d loved exclusively since seventh grade, Dave had found happiness, happiness compounded by the addition of a child. Lucky devil.
For a moment Kat allowed the envy to seep in, before he stopped it with a reminder that he was here to rebuild his parent’s house and sell it, not to form relationships. He had other things to settle first. Wives, homes and babies would have to wait their turn.
Throwing some change on the counter, he smiled at the blonde, then headed for his car. If he was going to rebuild the house, he might as well bite the bullet and take a look at it to figure out what he was going to need in the way of building supplies.
A BABY.
Emily had been pacing her living room and repeating those two words for over an hour, but full comprehension of her father’s demand still hadn’t registered. Why had he done this to her? If only Rose were here. Having been with the family for nearly sixteen years and having acted as Emily’s father’s sounding board, Rose knew better than most why Frank Kingston had done things.
Fine time for Emily’s housekeeper cum maternal confidant to be somewhere in Mexico touring pyramid ruins with her friends. Emily’s mother had died when Emily was a teenager and Rose was the closest thing to a mother that she had now. She’d gotten used to talking through her problems with Rose. Rose had more logic in her little finger than most people had in their whole heads, even if she was a bit on the old-fashioned side.
Emily nearly had this self-pity thing down to a fine art when the doorbell rang. The last thing she wanted right now was company. Cautiously, she peeked through the side window, then swung open the door.
“Hey, sister.” Honey and her four-year-old son Danny smiled at Emily from the front porch.
Pushing between his mother and his aunt, Danny tugged on Emily’s shirttail. “Aunt Emily, c-c-can I go s-s-see the horsies?” Danny’s eyes glowed with excitement.
“May I, Danny.” Honey frowned at her son. “And it would be nice if you said hello before you start making your aunt crazy.”
“Aw, Mommy.” Danny rolled his eyes at his mother, but adoration shone from his gaze.
For the first time, Emily thought about the baby her father insisted she have as something other than a complication she didn’t need in her life right now. How bad would it be to have a little person like Danny to look at you with love, trust and honesty?
“Hello, Aunt Emily. Now, c-c-can I go s-s-see the horsies?”
Honey sighed and shook her head. “The child is going to grow up illiterate despite my best efforts.”
Another, more insistent tug on her shirt drew Emily’s attention back to her nephew. His stutter hadn’t gotten any better. She’d hoped that time would ease his grief over his father’s death, and his stutter would go away, as the doctor had predicted. So far, it wasn’t working.
Emily scooped his sturdy body up into her arms. The feel of him cuddled to her chest made her suddenly aware of how good it felt to hold a child close, to inhale that special child-fragrance. “Sure you can, sweetie. Just stay out of the stalls, do as Chuck says and don’t get too near the mommy horsies, okay? But it’s gonna cost you.” She tapped her cheek with a blunt nail. “Plant one right there.”
Danny grinned and bestowed a wet kiss to her upturned cheek. She set him back on his feet. Without hesitation, he scampered down the steps, then raced in the direction of the barn. Emily watched him, her heart assuming a strange new beat.
Honey sighed. “The child is incorrigible.”
“You worry too much about how he’s going to grow up. He’s a good kid. He’ll be fine.”
“I plan on making certain of that. Speaking of fine, will he be okay out there?”
Emily nodded. “Chuck will keep an eye on him. He loves having Danny around.” She continued to watch as Danny’s short legs carried him to the barn. “And you can stop worrying about him. He’ll make a fine man some day.”
“Well, you don’t help matters when you—” Honey leaned into Emily’s line of vision. “Do I see maternal longing in those green eyes?”
Emily straightened and glared at her sister. Sometimes the closeness they had was more of a liability than a blessing. Maybe if she just ignored her…. “Did you come over here just to antagonize me or is there another purpose for your visit?” She walked into the house ahead of Honey, leading her into the kitchen. “Coffee?”
Honey feigned a look of horror. She backed up, as if to escape some threat. “What terrible thing have I done to be subjected to a cup of that black poison you call coffee?”
Smiling for the first time today, Emily waved her into a chair and got a can of soda for each of them from the refrigerator. Honey could always cheer her up. “Okay, so I can’t make coffee to save my life. Shoot me. With Rose around, I don’t need culinary talents.”
“Em, you may be an ace with those four-legged beasts you love, but you wouldn’t know a culinary talent if it bit you on the backside.” Honey popped the can, tucked a wayward strand of her long, blond hair behind her ear, then took a sip. “When’s Rose due back?”
“Not for a while. About two weeks, I think.” Sighing, Emily looked around the sparkling yellow kitchen. “If someone doesn’t take pity on me, I just may starve to death before then. One can survive for just so long on peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”
Honey snickered at her younger sister’s blatant bid for a dinner invitation. “You sure picked the wrong night to wangle a dinner invitation. Tess is making her prizewinning meat loaf tonight. Now, if you’d waited until tomorrow night, Tess has it off and I man the kitchen.” She curled her nose. “But I don’t dare go near it while Tess is there.”
“It’s a good thing the woman has a day off, or I’d worry more about Danny’s nutrition than his manners.” She shook her head. “I’ll never understand why your mother-in-law has kept her for all these years. Amanda can certainly afford someone better.”
Honey shrugged. “Tess grows on you.”
“So does bacteria, but most people don’t encourage it.” Tess made the only gray meat loaf Emily had ever seen in her life. She wasn’t a cook by any means, but even she knew meat loaf should be brown.
Avoiding Emily’s comment, Honey took a sip from her soda can.
Lowering her voice as if she might be overheard, Emily leaned toward Honey. “Wonder where she won that prize, and how many drinks the