A Callahan Wedding. Tina Leonard
His brothers gazed at him silently. Jonas’s heart pounded a ridiculous tattoo that a cardiac guy like him knew meant his body was in fight-or-flight mode. Blast. “Let’s not go getting crazy here.” He gulped his whiskey and looked at them mutinously. “I have not yet asked Sabrina if that is my child, and you don’t know for certain, either, do you?”
They shrugged to a man. Either they weren’t going to enlighten him, or they didn’t know.
“Second, do you realize I was thirty-three when I first met her? I’m now going on nearly thirty-damn-seven. How long was I supposed to wait on her?” He sent a mulish glare around the room, pinpointing each brother. “Look, the common theory is that if a man isn’t married by thirty-five, there’s something wrong with him. I was beginning to wonder about myself!”
“We all were,” Creed said easily. “You’re not the quickest runner in the field, bro.”
Jonas ignored that. “How long was I supposed to hope that she’d crook her little finger and let me know she felt the same way about me as I did about her?” He shook his head. “All you guys went whango-bango! off the market. You jumped into sacks like you were potatoes, and suddenly started sprouting spuds all over the place. Me, I like to be a bit more measured about things.”
“And yet what about little Spud Joe?” Judah asked dryly. “Seems when you were doing your measuring, you forgot to measure for condoms.”
Jonas leaned back in his chair, not about to dignify that with a return shot. How in the world could he have ended up with a baby who wasn’t wearing his name?
It had happened because he couldn’t stay away from her. Sabrina had made him crazy from the day he first saw her. He’d heard bells tinkling and stars falling to earth, and he’d never believed he could fall in love at first sight.
Yet I did.
* * *
“A FIANCÉE!” SABRINA changed into worn gray warm-ups and flopped onto the bed. “Of all the souvenirs I thought Jonas might bring home, a fiancée was not one of them.”
Aunt Corinne shook her head. She sat in the white wicker rocker in Sabrina’s upstairs room, looking as unhappy as Sabrina felt. “That was a shocker, I’ll freely admit.”
“I should never have come back to Diablo.”
Corinne sighed. “Selfishly, perhaps, I like having you here. And while it will be awkward running into Jonas and Chelsea occasionally, you really won’t see them that often.”
Sabrina thought that unlikely. This was Diablo; what wasn’t seen was talked about constantly. “We all live in each other’s business here, Aunt Corinne, you know that. The thing is, I really like Chelsea, so I can’t muster up any jealousy or bad feelings toward her. She seemed kind and interested and…” Sabrina frowned, hunting for the word she wanted. “She seemed like she wasn’t in love with Jonas, actually.”
“I picked up on that myself,” Corinne said cheerfully. “Maybe this engagement isn’t set in stone.”
It was wrong to hope for Jonas’s relationship to fall apart just because Sabrina had had a baby by him. “We’re all adults. We can do the right thing for Joe without hoping for other people’s unhappiness.” Still, her aunt Corinne was right: Jonas and Chelsea hadn’t seemed that gaga over one another. More like “just friends.”
“Oh, I don’t want them to be unhappy,” Corinne said. “It just wouldn’t bother me if the engagement got called off.”
Sabrina rolled over to send her a pointed stare. “Aunt Corinne, you are not to meddle in any way.”
Corinne’s eyes sparkled behind her polka-dotted glasses. “I wouldn’t think of such a thing!”
“And you are not to set the Books’n’Bingo Society, nor anyone else, to interfering with Jonas’s choice,” Sabrina said.
Corinne smiled fondly at her niece. “Well, I can’t promise not to hope that all of you get your heads straight on what needs to happen. I believe in true love, after all.”
Sabrina decided her aunt wasn’t planning to do anything nefarious. “It’s up to Jonas to be happy with his choice, so if he’s happy, then I’m happy for him.”
“That’s very mature of you, dear. I commend you.” Corinne looked down into Joe’s portable crib, where he was sound asleep, undisturbed by their conversation. “A busy time of being passed around by half of Diablo yesterday has tuckered our little man out still. I should let the two of you rest.”
Suddenly, Sabrina felt tired herself. “Good night, Aunt Corinne. Thanks for everything.” She settled her head on her pillow and smiled at her aunt. “It’s all going to work out. I have a feeling about these things.”
“So do I,” Corinne said. “Good night, Sabrina.”
Sabrina closed her eyes, only to start thinking about Jonas. How handsome he’d looked at the wedding! Better than she’d remembered, which was hard to top. The last time she’d seen him had been at Seton’s first wedding.
Several months in Ireland had done nothing but improve him in some way she couldn’t quite put her finger on. He seemed more mysterious, somehow more wise.
Definitely more hunk-hot in the way that only Jonas was to her.
Pooh. I’m not going to think about him anymore. Obviously, what we had wasn’t all that special if he’s put a ring on another woman’s hand.
In fact, he’s not hot at all. He’s cold.
* * *
SABRINA WAS SHOCKED when she ran into Jonas bright and early Monday morning while taking Joe to the pediatrician. “Hi, Jonas,” she said, walking past him as nonchalantly as possible. She’d wondered over and over what he thought about her baby—and when she should tell him the truth about little Joe.
“Wait, Sabrina.” He caught up with her, matching her stride. “Can I carry something for you? You look pretty loaded down.”
She had Joe’s diaper bag, her purse and Joe. “No, thanks. I carry this all the time by myself.”
“Well, it’s too much gear for a petite thing like you. Let me take the baby,” Jonas said, reaching for little Joe.
Sabrina gave him up reluctantly, watching Jonas’s expression as he held his son. Interested faces peered out of shop windows, and their friends and neighbors who were walking along Diablo’s sidewalks stopped to watch, even though they acted as if they weren’t. Sabrina felt like a fish in an aquarium. Still, she waited as Jonas carefully studied little Joe.
Finally, Jonas glanced at her. “Is this my son, Sabrina?”
So this was how it was going to be. She hadn’t planned to tell him on a beautiful, sunny May day in front of the hometown crowd, but he’d asked, and she wasn’t going to prevaricate. “Yes. Joe is your son.”
Jonas closed his eyes for a moment, pressed the baby close to his cheek. “What is his full name?”
“Jonas Cavanaugh McKinley. He was born on November 20.”
He studied the baby, and Joe seemed to study him in return. “I assume my name is listed as the father on the birth certificate?”
“Yes, it is. Of course it is.” Sabrina took Joe back, though Jonas seemed reluctant to part with his newfound son. “We have an appointment. I’m sorry.”
She started walking at a brisk pace. Jonas kept up with her.
“What kind of appointment?”
“Six month checkup and shots.” She didn’t mean to be curt, but this was so awkward, so unplanned, that Sabrina didn’t know how to do anything else but put up her defenses.
“I feel I should be