A Baby Between Them. C.J. Carmichael
he asked, as he helped her into the front seat of his car.
“It’s so hot—that would be nice.”
She needed a hand sitting down and he guessed she’d need help to get out, as well. He leaned down to find the lever to push the seat back and make more room for her bulk. Inadvertently, his shoulder brushed against her belly. It was surprisingly firm.
He stood up, embarrassed, yet oddly excited by the brief contact. That was his baby in there. And he’d touched her. It was still so incredible to him. Unbelievable and…amazing.
Wanting to touch again, yet knowing he couldn’t, he headed for the driver’s seat. As he reversed the car out of the driveway, Rae asked, “How far to your friend’s house?”
“Lavender Farm is on the north end of the island. About a thirty-minute drive.”
They stopped at the Cliffside Diner to pick up the packages of sandwiches that Aidan had ordered, then continued on the main road that circumnavigated the island.
Though paved, the route had many dangerous curves and the posted speed was low. Still, Rae’s long hair was whipped by the wind as Aidan accelerated. He leaned over to open the glove compartment and a navy silk scarf fell out.
“Use that.”
Rae gave him a questioning look, maybe wondering to whom the scarf belonged, then tied her hair back, as he’d suggested.
As the miles disappeared, Aidan began to relax. It was good to be on Summer Island again. The land to his left broke away to the ocean below with twenty-foot cliffs. The other side of the road was dotted with cultivated farmland and pastures that had been carved from the ancient rain forest. He slowed, in order to pass a small herd of cattle. A portion of the pasture fence had collapsed.
“Aren’t they beautiful?” Rae said. “I’ve never seen such black cows before.”
“Those are Kerries, an extremely rare breed of dairy cattle. They don’t produce as much milk as a Jersey or a Holstein, but the taste is incredibly creamy.”
Rae was surprised by Aidan’s detailed answer. “How do you know so much about cows?”
“For a couple of summers I worked at that farm. Mr. Olsen ran his operation the old-fashioned way, and I milked the cows by hand.”
Aidan could still remember the smell of the barn, the feel of the cows’ bellies against his head as he crouched low to access the fat, warm teats. There’d been a knack to coaxing the milk out of those teats and he’d been damn proud when he finally heard the satisfying metallic resonance of milk streaming into the galvanized pail held steady between his legs.
“I can’t imagine you milking a cow.” Rae looked at him speculatively.
“I loved that job. We’d carry the pails into the kitchen and Mrs. Olsen would run the milk through the separator. Once a week she’d give me a bottle of cream to take home to my mother. It was so thick, Mom had to spoon it into her coffee. But boy did it taste great on a bowl of fresh blueberries.”
Rae was still looking at him as if he’d just explained that he came from another planet. “Where did you and your mother stay when you were on the island?”
“We used to own the house across from the Kincaid place.”
“The pumpkin-colored yoga studio?”
“It was white in those days.” Molly Springfield, the new owner, apparently liked bright colors.
From Justine, and Harrison’s sister, Nessa, Aidan had heard that the yoga business was thriving, which surprised him. When he’d been a kid, the majority of islanders were fishermen and farmers who resisted the trends and so-called progress of the twentieth century. But they had cell phone service here now, so he supposed a yoga studio had been inevitable.
“Tell me about Jennifer,” Rae said. “Have you known her a long time?”
“Pretty much since we were in diapers.”
“She’s one of Simone DeRosier’s original Forget-Me-Not friends, right?”
He grimaced. “You know about that?”
“Last summer that was all anyone at work wanted to talk about. Simone’s tragic death and how devastated all of the Forget-Me-Not friends were.”
“Yeah, I can imagine.” The office grapevine worked well…except where he was concerned, obviously.
“Everyone was shocked when they found out Simone had been murdered. But it was never clear to me why it was assumed to be suicide in the first place.”
“Simone was found dead in a running car in her own garage. There was a letter with her that seemed to be a suicide note. It seemed pretty clear-cut at the time.”
“So how did Harrison figure out that one of your friends had killed her?”
“There were a number of things that didn’t add up. In the end, they all pointed to Emerson.” Like Harrison and Gabe, the landscape business owner had been in love with Simone. Only his love had grown into a sick obsession.
“I’m sorry,” Rae said. “I shouldn’t have raised such a painful topic.”
Aidan glanced in the rearview mirror and saw the dark look on his face that must have prompted Rae’s apology. He made an effort to smile. “That’s okay. It happened a long time ago. Now that Harrison is remarried I think a lot of the wounds have begun to heal.”
“Justine is a terrific lady,” Rae agreed.
Aidan pointed up the road. “There’s Lavender Farm.”
He eased off the accelerator. A handcrafted sign, nailed to the twisted, dark red branch of an arbutus tree, read: Lavender Farm Bed-And-Breakfast.
“Pretty,” Rae murmured.
“Wait until you see the rest of the place.”
He drove through a grove of tall cedars, veering slowly to the left, and then suddenly they were in a clearing. The two-story clapboard home sat in the midst of a rambling English-style garden. Ivy grew up and along the porch. Delicate blue hydrangea framed the doorway. And flower beds, mostly of lavender, spread out in all directions.
“I feel like I’m in a fairy tale,” Rae said, her head swiveling as she took in her surroundings. “Or maybe a nursery rhyme. ‘Mary, Mary, quite contrary, how does your garden grow?’”
Taken aback by the prosaic comment, Aidan stared at Rae. When she saw him looking, her smile immediately vanished.
“What?” she demanded. “Did you think I was only capable of appreciating a healthy balance sheet and a profitable operating statement?”
Well, yeah. Up until today, he’d mostly seen Rae in a business environment. Now, all of a sudden, she was pregnant and quoting children’s rhymes, and earlier, she’d pulled a loaf of bread from the oven. Okay, that had been out of a package—he’d seen the wrapper on the counter—and she’d burned it so it was inedible, but still, the mere idea that she even knew how to turn on an oven was antithetical to his original view of her.
As Aidan had anticipated, Rae needed help getting out of the front seat. He’d no sooner let go of her hand than he heard his name.
“Aidan!” A woman waved at them from the porch. Jennifer’s blond hair was still long and straight—the same as always. Her smile was welcoming. Uncomplicated. The only thing different about this picture was the baby she had balanced on her hip.
“Hey, Jenn.” Aidan stepped forward to kiss her cheek. “This is Rae Cordell from our Pittsburgh office. And this must be Erica.” He tugged the baby’s bare foot gently.
“Hi, Jennifer. It’s nice to meet you.” Though her words were friendly, Rae didn’t seem as relaxed as she’d been on the drive over. Her smile was stiff now, and she hadn’t removed her