The Bachelor's Baby. Mia Ross
“Is everything okay?”
Startled by the sound of an actual voice, Brian whipped around to find Lindsay standing inside the open front door, head tilted while she stared at him in obvious concern. In her hands she held an oversize coffee mug, steaming in the chilly air.
“Yeah, just taking a breather. What’re you doing up so early?”
“I couldn’t sleep anymore, so I’m making breakfast for Ellie. When I heard you out here, I thought you might like something warm to drink.”
It was a thoughtful thing to do, especially considering that just a few hours ago, he’d flatly refused to hire her. The faint pang of guilt he’d been feeling grew stronger, and he began to second-guess his decision. “Thanks for thinking of it. You shouldn’t be out here, though. It’s freezing.”
That got him a wry grin. “I’m tougher than I look.”
Yeah, she was, he remembered with more fondness than he would have preferred. Her delicate appearance masked a headstrong temperament that had proven to be more than a handful in their younger days. It was good to know that her current predicament hadn’t completely shattered the spirit he’d once admired so much.
“I’ll come in and thaw out,” he said, climbing the snowy steps to join her. “I’m ready for a break, anyway.”
After shedding his ice-caked boots and coat in the entryway, he followed Lindsay into the warm, welcoming space that was his grandmother’s little kingdom. Gifted with culinary talent and a knack for inventing new dishes, Gran had fed hundreds of family and friends over the years from the bright, unassuming kitchen that was her domain.
Lindsay opened the warming drawer of the commercial oven, and the scent of fresh pancakes made Brian’s empty stomach growl. She laughed, pulling several out to set on a plate for him. “It sounds like you’re hungry.”
“Starving. Thanks.”
He slathered on butter and drowned them in syrup that had come from maple trees outside of town. He was demolishing them when his grandmother came down the creaky wooden steps and into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” she greeted him, pausing to kiss the top of his head as if he was ten years old.
“Mmmng,” he mumbled around a mouthful of pancakes.
She laughed and crossed the floor to pour hot water from the teakettle into a flowered china cup. “He sounds happy. How are you feeling this morning, Lindsay?”
“Fine, thanks.”
Brian quickly swallowed and asked, “Feeling? Were you sick yesterday?”
“Tired more than anything, I think. It comes with the territory,” she added, smoothing her hands over her plump waistline. “Growing a person is hard work.”
Brian had all he could do growing his business, and he couldn’t begin to imagine how difficult her task was. Thinking of the forge reminded him of the impending deadline he now faced, and he realized that the solution to his problem was standing in his grandmother’s kitchen, spooning batter onto the griddle.
“Lindsay?” When she turned to glance at him, he swallowed his pride with some coffee and prepared his stomach for a bitter helping of crow. “I’ve got a major problem at the ironworks.” He explained it to her, ending with, “I’m still finishing up the installation of the unit, and there’s no way I can get everything done on my own. Would you consider taking that office manager job, after all?”
“Yes.”
Her answer came without hesitation, and he could hardly believe it. He’d anticipated her yanking his chain a little, perhaps making him grovel for entertainment’s sake. She didn’t even ask him how long their arrangement would last. It told him just how desperate she was, and he felt awful for the way he’d handled things with her yesterday. He didn’t want them starting off with any illusions about the position, so he cautioned her, “I’m not sure how much work I’ll have for you after that.”
“That’s okay,” she responded brightly. “Once you see what I can do, you might decide you can’t get along without me.”
“And you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want,” Gran assured her with a smile. “I really enjoy having the company, and I can drop you off at the ironworks when I drive into the bakery.”
“That’s sweet of you, and I’d be happy to take you up on it. As a tenant.”
“Oh, posh,” Gran scoffed, waving away the offer. “That’s not necessary.”
“It is for me,” Lindsay insisted, sitting in the chair beside his grandmother. “I’m going to be a mom soon, and I need to be more responsible than I have been in the past. That means not letting people do things for me that I can do for myself.”
Gran sent him a questioning look, and he shrugged slightly. It was up to her, really, but he had to admit he was impressed by Lindsay’s insistence on paying her own way. Prompted by Jeff’s behavior, no doubt. In Brian’s opinion, it was definitely a change for the better.
The skunk may have actually done her a favor, he mused while he mopped up his syrup with the last of his pancakes. Maybe she’d needed to hit rock bottom to realize just how bad things had gotten.
Now there was no place for her to go but up. And if anyone he knew had the will to make that happen, it was Lindsay Holland.
* * *
Lindsay was in the middle of the daunting stack of paperwork when a tiny elbow poked her hard enough to snag her immediate attention. Massaging the spot, she kept moving in a circular motion until the little troublemaker inside her rolled over into a different position that was more comfortable.
For a few minutes, anyway.
She’d been feeling the baby move for weeks now, but sometimes she still marveled at those simple reminders that there was a small person growing inside of her. The jabs came at all times of the day, so they were always a surprise to her, making her wonder if the restlessness was a hint at the personality to come. And if it was, how would she cope with raising such an active child all by herself?
Her own mother hadn’t managed the task all that well, and while Lindsay recognized that she’d been a handful, she’d often felt that Mom could have tried harder to bond with her independent-minded daughter. After all, Lindsay had come by her stubbornness innocently enough, inheriting not only her mother’s looks but her headstrong attitude, as well.
It seemed disloyal to feel that way, and as she’d matured, Lindsay had come to understand that Mom had done the best she could. Too bad it hadn’t even come close to what an insecure teenage girl needed.
The baby was now resting calmly under her hand, and she smiled down to where her palm rested. “I promise to always be there for you, little one, no matter what.”
She sensed a flutter of movement, as if her child had heard the vow and was acknowledging it. It was times like these when she—as nonreligious as a person could get—honestly believed in miracles.
A motion in the doorway caught her attention, and she glanced up to find Brian leaning against the jamb, arms crossed while he gazed curiously at her. “How’s it going in here?”
“Good,” she replied, patting the growing pile of finished paperwork proudly. “I just went past halfway.”
“So it’s downhill from here, then?”
In her experience, that wasn’t how things worked. But Brian was up against a nearly impossible deadline, and she decided that there wasn’t any point in being negative about their chances of actually finishing in time. “Like a snowball picking up speed.”
Cocking his head, he grinned at her. “You don’t really believe that, do you?”
Stunned that he’d seen through her attempt at levity, she blinked. Either