Baby Makes a Match Page 6
Chandler spoke up before he even knew that he was going to. “She can ride with me. I’m not going to Sunday School, just worship.”
“How thoughtful,” Magnolia said, glancing toward him.
Leaning forward, Bethany followed Magnolia’s line of sight. Letting his gaze roam over her, Chandler adjusted the knot of his tie and turned down the collar of the white shirt that he wore with a pair of dark blue jeans and his best ostrich quill boots. He realized that he was smiling and quickly looked away, but he couldn’t help thinking that in addition to that pretty face and beautiful hair, Bethany had really nice legs. In fact, with her rumpled hair, bare feet and pregnant belly, she was the most feminine thing he’d ever seen.
Bethany shook her head at him. “Thank you, but I’m not feeling all that well this morning.” She lifted a hand to her temple as if to say that her head hurt.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Magnolia crooned. “Are you sure you’ll be all right here alone? Would you like me to stay with you?”
“No, no,” Bethany insisted. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to get something to eat and rest a little more. You go on with the others, and I’ll see you later.”
“I’m not sure you should be alone,” Magnolia said worriedly.
“I wouldn’t let Garrett stay. I’m certainly not going to let you,” Bethany told her firmly. “Besides, I have a phone here. I’ll be fine.”
“Well, if you’re sure,” Magnolia murmured.
“Go,” Bethany ordered, smiling.
Magnolia nodded and hurried off, tossing a speaking look in Chandler’s direction. He wasn’t sure why or how Bethany Willows had suddenly become his responsibility, but God knew the woman needed someone to look out for her and since her brother wasn’t around, he supposed he was elected. He ambled down the short hall and leaned a shoulder against the doorjamb of the sitting room door.
“You know that the staff have Sundays off, don’t you?”
“Yes, Garrett told me.”
“I was going to grab a bite to eat on my way to church. I can bring something back for you, if you like. Won’t take long.”
Bethany smiled. “Thanks but that’s not necessary. I’ll go down and rummage around the kitchen in a little while, toast an English muffin or something. Garrett says Hilda makes her own.”
“She does,” Chandler confirmed, straightening away from the door frame.
“Great! Well, I won’t keep you.” With that, Bethany backed into the room and closed the door.
Chandler stood for a moment, telling himself that she was an adult fully capable of making her own breakfast. On the other hand, if she was feeling unwell, it wouldn’t hurt him to toast an English muffin. Aunt Mags would undoubtedly expect it of him. He headed down to the kitchen.
Listening to the sounds of Chandler’s footsteps as he moved away, Bethany let out a sigh of relief. Then she pushed away from the door, turned and caught sight of herself in the mirror over the sitting room mantle. Groaning, she stared at her rumpled hair and pale face, recalling how handsome he’d looked in his Sunday best, his face cleanly shaven, blond hair neatly combed. She looked as if she’d passed a rough night, when in fact the opposite was true.
She’d slept soundly, but she’d awakened in a panic, knowing that if she went to church this morning, she was bound to run into someone who’d known her back in high school, someone who remembered her elopement, someone who would undoubtedly ask about her obviously absent husband. She just couldn’t face that yet. It was simply too embarrassing, especially while she was carrying this belly around.
Walking over to the Victorian sofa, she plopped down, frowning. What did she say when, inevitably, someone asked about her husband? That she was unmarried, never married, divorced, perhaps? She didn’t want to lie, but she didn’t want the truth out there, either, for numerous reasons. She slumped back against the sofa cushion, telling herself that she couldn’t hide forever. Sooner or later, she would have to face this dilemma.
She mulled the problem but had found no solution when someone tapped on her door again a few moments later. Wondering who that could be now, she got up to answer, only to find Chandler Chatam standing there, a china plate in one hand and a glass of orange juice in another.
He thrust the plate and juice at her, saying, “You can stick those in the dumbwaiter when you’re through with them.” As he sauntered off toward his own room, he nodded toward the tiny elevator set into the wall at the end of the hallway. It came out downstairs in the butler’s pantry, as she had discovered on her first day here.
Bethany looked down at the plate in her hand. It contained an unpeeled banana, a toasted English muffin and generous dollops of butter and some sort of jam. For a moment, she couldn’t do anything more than stand there and stare, but then her stomach rumbled hungrily. Suddenly she realized that he’d made her breakfast.
Galvanized, she called out, “Thank you!”
“You’re welcome,” came the disembodied reply.
Carefully closing the door, Bethany let her smile grow. Setting the glass of orange juice onto a small writing desk, she reached for the still-warm muffin and dipped it into the soft butter before biting into it. Slightly crunchy and dusted with cornmeal, it filled her mouth with delight. Chatam House, she decided, closing her eyes, was a very good place to be indeed. And these Chatams, they were something else. Chandler, for instance, was the very epitome of the man’s man, yet, he was very thoughtful, kind, not to mention forgiving, helpful, handsome…
Oh, why couldn’t she have met a man like him instead of Jay Carter? But the past could not be changed, and her future no longer had room for a man. Besides, what on earth would a man like Chandler Chatam want with a fool like her? And a child. Not exactly every man’s dream package.
Jay’s insidious voice whispered through her head.
“You think any other man is going to want you with your crazy background and a kid in tow?”
No, even if she could bring herself to trust again, she couldn’t believe that a good man like Chandler Chatam would ever want her. Better that she should just concentrate on being a good mother to her child and forget about him. If only she could figure out how to do it.
Chapter Five
Shifting on the pew next to Odelia, Magnolia glanced up the broad central aisle of the sanctuary at Downtown Bible Church and noted that Garrett and Chandler were working their way through the throng together. One dark and one blond, they were the perfect foil for the coloring and good looks of the other. Magnolia knew that once Hubner laid eyes on Chandler, the current discussion would be at an end, and the sisters had not yet accomplished their purpose, which was to promote Bethany as a candidate for the job of receptionist at the Single Parents Ministry.
Looking back to her older brother, who stood in the aisle next to Hypatia, Magnolia tamped down her impatience. Hubner had been a wonderful pastor, and she was pleased that he’d taken on the administration of the Single Parents Ministry. Not too long ago, the Chatam sisters had feared that Hub had essentially checked out of his life. After being widowed for a second time, he had suffered a heart attack. His daughter, Kaylie, a nurse, had then moved in with him and nurtured him back to health, but no one had seemed able to coax him back into his life and ministry. Thankfully, God had accomplished that through Kaylie’s marriage to Stephen Gallow, and no one was happier about it than Magnolia, but her brother could be unreasonable where his youngest son was concerned.
“So do you or do you not need a receptionist?” she demanded, ignoring the look of exasperation that Hypatia dropped on her.
“I will,” Hubner hedged.
“The question,” Hypatia said, “is not will you need a receptionist, but when will you need a receptionist.”
Hubner shrugged and hitched his dress slacks up around his middle. It wasn’t so much that Hub had a pot belly as that his already slender frame had more or less shrunk around it, making that a prominent feature, and his rigid, somewhat backward-leaning posture, an
effect of his bifocal glasses, called attention to it.
“I suppose I’ll have to start looking for someone soon,” he said, lifting his cleft chin.
“Excellent,” Magnolia replied. “We’ll be sending over someone special for you to interview tomorrow.”
Hubner shoved his glasses back up onto his nose and sighed. “This isn’t one of your causes, is it, one of your lost sheep?”
“Not at all!” Odelia exclaimed. “Why, she’s practically a member of the family. And who knows, if she and Chan—”
Magnolia elbowed her. Hypatia hastily spoke over the resulting yelp. “She’s the sister of Garrett Willows, our gardener, and she’s, er…”
“Going to have a baby!” Odelia whispered happily, loud enough to be heard yards away. She glared at Magnolia as if daring her to use the elbow again.
As if that would do any good. Magnolia rolled her eyes in exasperation.
Chandler and Garrett arrived just then, and Hypatia rushed to head off any awkwardness between father and son. “Hubner, you remember our gardener, Garrett Willows.”
“Sir,” Garrett said, shaking hands with the older man. “Nice to see you again.”
Hubner smiled and nodded. His gaze then shifted to Chandler, whom he greeted with raised eyebrows. “Well, well,” he said. “Will wonders never cease? It’s Sunday, and my son is actually in church.”
Magnolia sighed at the same time as Chandler. Why was it, she wondered, that Hubner could extend the hand of nonjudgmental fellowship to any stranger on the street and yet greet his own son with such barbed criticism? She supposed that it had something to do with a father’s expectations of his son and the son’s need to go his own way.
“Hello, Dad,” Chandler said sarcastically. “Nice to see you, too.”
Magnolia verbally jumped between them before things could get out of control. “We’re so pleased to have Chandler living at Chatam House now.”
Hubner blinked. “Living at Chatam House? With Patrick Kreger?”
“No, of course not with Kreger,” Chandler snapped, “and it’s only temporary.”
Hypatia hastily changed the subject. “Have you heard from Kaylie and Stephen?”
Hub pursed his mouth and briefly bowed his head, but he surrendered to the change of subject. Smiling tightly, he replied, “She’s anxious to get back here to oversee the construction of the new house. I think Stephen is less enthused about the house than about getting in condition for the hockey season.”
“That’s understandable,” Magnolia said, “given what he’s been through since his accident.” That set Hub off on a long report on Stephen’s current condition.
Stephen had accidentally driven his car through a garage wall and injured himself severely. Thanks to the influence of Dr. Brooks Leland, Stephen had wound up recuperating at Chatam House in an effort to avoid the press. There he had met Kaylie, who’d been hired to oversee his care. The two had quickly fallen in love and were now on an extended honeymoon. They had sold Stephen’s Fort Worth house and were now building a beautiful new home on the east side of Buffalo Creek. When it was finished, Hub intended to move in with them, at Stephen’s invitation. Magnolia and her sisters were grateful for that, as it meant that they did not have to worry about Hub being cared for as he aged. They themselves had cared for their widowed father until his passing, but Hub was only a few years older than them.
“All in all, he’s doing very well,” Hub said, winding up.
Thankfully, the service was starting by the time the subject had been exhausted, and Hypatia hurried everyone into seats. Chandler sank down between Magnolia and Garrett. She caught a look of sympathy on Garrett’s face and told herself wryly that her nephew may have made a friend between blows. Stranger things, as she well knew, had happened. Why, they had happened to another of her nephews, Reeves Leland, who had met and married an old childhood nemesis, Anna Miranda Burdett, at Chatam House just this past winter.
Suddenly Magnolia wondered if Odelia might not be right after all. She thought of the way Chandler had stood up for Bethany when she’d refused to name her baby’s father and how he’d proposed that his father should employ her. Magnolia remembered, too, how studiously he’d tried not to glance in Bethany’s direction at dinner last night, then how he’d offered her a ride to church this morning. Could it be that Odelia was right and romance was blossoming at Chatam House again?
Stranger things indeed.
Magnolia smiled, wondering if it would be wrong to give God just a little bit of a helping hand.
Stepping up onto the low, concrete stoop of the 1960s-era, ranch-style, brick house that was the headquarters for the Single Parents Ministry, Chandler reached out to pull open the heavy, commercial-type glass door and held it wide for Bethany to pass through. She was looking as businesslike as it was possible for a woman in her condition. Her short-sleeved navy blue dress featured an empire waistline with a skinny yellow belt that perfectly matched the narrow band holding back her dark hair and the soft, flat shoes on her slender feet. Whatever had kept her out of church the day before seemed to have passed, but she betrayed a certain nervousness when she paused on the threshold and pulled in a deep breath.
Chuckling, Chandler said, “I know just how you feel.”
“Do you?”
“I’m looking for a new partner, and I had a tryout of sorts just last Saturday. I haven’t been that nervous since I passed a note to Mary Ann Catcher in third grade.”
“Check one if you like me. Check two if you don’t,” Bethany teased, paraphrasing an old country song.
Chandler grinned. “Something like that.”
“And of course she checked number one.”
“Actually, she stuck out her tongue and threw a pencil at me. Good pencil. I used it for a couple weeks.”
They both laughed as the door swung closed behind them. The laughter took the edge off the dread that he felt at facing his father. It wasn’t enough that he should give Bethany a ride over here this morning. Oh, no, Magnolia had privately insisted that he personally introduce her to Hubner, as if that would endear her to the old man. Still, Chandler would do his best.
Standing in the tiny entry hall of the converted house, Chandler saw that straight ahead was what had obviously been the dining room, now fitted out with an old desk, a new computer and several thinly padded chairs to make a reception area. The living room, now a classroom, was on the right, with the kitchen tucked into the far corner next to the dining/reception space. Chandler imagined that the two or three rooms that opened off the hall to the left would be used for offices or storage.
His father came out of that hall, a smile on his face. “We’re not officially open for another week,” he was saying, “but if I can help you, I’ll—” He stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw dropping.
Chandler hadn’t expected quite that reaction. His father couldn’t be that surprised to see him again so soon, and the aunts had surely mentioned Bethany to him the day before at church. Lifting a hand to the small of Bethany’s back, he urged her forward, saying, “Dad, this is Bethany. She’s looking for a job. The aunties thought I should introduce you to her myself.”
Hub’s face turned six shades of red. Confused by this reaction, Chandler shook his head, even as Hub bawled, “Chandler Chatam! Please tell me that you’ve married this girl!”
“Married!” Chandler echoed, knowing instantly what his father was thinking. So did Bethany.
“Not again,” she moaned, casting Chandler an apologetic look. In high dudgeon, Hubner didn’t even seem to notice.
“Odelia all but spilled it yesterday! Almost a member of the family! But I never dreamed that my own son would…” He shook a hand at Bethany, palm out, demanding of Chandler, “How could you?”
“But he didn’t—” Bethany began.
Chandler grasped her wrist, squeezing hard enough to shut off the flow of her words. “No! Just forget it,” he barked at her, glaring at Hub. “My father always knows best where
I’m concerned. He knows all my thoughts, words and deeds. And each and every one is a disappointment to him. I’ve never done a right thing in my life so far as he’s concerned! Don’t even waste your breath. He’s seen us together. He already knows everything he needs to know.”
Bethany turned to him, lifting her hands to his chest, either to comfort or to calm him. “I’m sorry, Chandler,” she whispered.
He shook his head. This was not her fault. “No, I’m sorry. I should have known better than to bring you to my father. Let’s just go. You shouldn’t be working, anyway.” Hub always thought the worst of his youngest son, but this just plain hurt.
“Oh, no,” she said. Pivoting on her heels, she fixed his father with a hard stare. “You go on to your appointment,” she told Chandler firmly. “I’ll be right here waiting when you get back.”
“Bethany, this is not a good idea,” Chandler argued. “He won’t believe you.”
“I’ll be here when you get back,” she stated again, meeting his gaze.
Those bright, cornflower blue eyes left him no option. Glumly, Chandler nodded. Shooting his father a bitter glance, he spun and shoved through the door. Once outside, he hesitated, breathing heavily. The impulse to stride back inside and sweep Bethany out of there was strong, but she had told him to go, and he had no right to overrule her.
Besides, Ash was waiting, and Chandler needed legal advice. Over the years, he’d poured more than fifty thousand dollars into the ranch that Kreger had just sold out from under him, and he needed to know if he had any legal redress, any hope of recouping some portion of his investment. Even now, he’d hate to have to sue his former friend, but perhaps he could levy a lien against the ranch.
And to think that he’d felt guilty about not telling his father about Kreger’s lies! He’d certainly be keeping that to himself now.
Heavy of heart, Chandler went to his truck and slid inside. He glanced at the door to the house, now the offices of Single Parent Ministries, as proclaimed by the sign in the yard, and inserted the key into the ignition. Pausing, he beat down the need to go back inside and drag Bethany out of there. Finally, he started up the truck and reluctantly drove away.