Annie Jones - Somebody's Baby p.02

“No. If we are going to start ‘making cases’—” she paused and made quotation
marks in the air “—in order to ease our guilt, then I should make one for the
fact that I didn’t track you down sooner to tell you about Nathan.”
“I thought you didn’t know about me until Ophelia sent you the adoption
paperwork.”
“I didn’t. But I didn’t make that effort either.” She scanned the business card,
the worn carpet, the baby who had just succeeded in pulling himself up onto his
own two feet then promptly plopped back down onto his well-padded bottom. “And
deep down I often thought that I should have made that effort. I may be naive
about a lot of things. Innocent, even. But I do know it takes two people to make
a baby, and I never once really tried to seek out Nathan’s father.”
“You are not just wise, Josie.” He cocked his head. He studied her in much the
same way he had on the first night they had met, but this time there was
something more in his eyes. Respect. He didn’t bother to conceal it when he
said, with quiet conviction, “You are…amazing.”
“Nope. Just someone trying to do the best I can, to be a good person and a good
Christian.”
“I know. You are.”
“I try.” She turned to watch Nathan again.
The baby grunted and groped at the couch cushion. He dug his tiny fingers into
the fabric. His chubby legs bounced once, twice then his body jutted upward and
he stood. “Ya-ya-ya!”
She smiled at her son. “Like everyone, I fail sometimes but I never stop
trying.”
“That’s what makes you so wonderful.”
Josie wished she could scoop her son up to take the attention away from herself.
But she didn’t want to take anything away from his hard-won accomplishment.
“You have to stop saying things like that or my head will swell up so big that I
won’t be able to get my café apron over it.” She pantomimed putting on the apron
that covered her from neck to knees.
“Ahh, you’ve caught on to my plan, to keep you from cooking for that barbecue.”
They stood there in silence. Josie didn’t know what to say or do.
Nathan lurched sideways for one step then another, his fingers curled into the
soft cushion for support as he cruised toward the armrest.
Josie raised her head and now commanded Adam’s gaze. She wanted to please this
man but she was not ready to surrender that kind of trust to him. He had plans
he would not tell her about and she had rent to pay.
“I won’t take money from you.” She laid it out as plainly as possible. “Not when
I have a terrific way to earn it for myself. It’s the right thing to do and
won’t cause you any hardship.”
“I don’t know about…” He stopped, looked down at Nathan, then back at her.
“Wait. You think me paying your back child support would create a financial
hardship for me?”
“Everyone in town knows you went through your inheritance right away.”
“Oh, everybody knows that, do they?”
“You don’t have to be ashamed. Like I said, we all fail. The important thing is
to keep trying to do better.”
He opened his mouth and raised his hand, like a man about to launch into a
speech. Then his eyes shifted. His brow crinkled. He exhaled in a quick, hard
huff. “I can’t stand here and talk about this now, Josie. Just believe me when I
say that if you should decide not to take the job, I will support you
emotionally and financially in that choice.”
Thump.
Nathan reached the end of the couch and sat down on the carpet, hard. He did not
cry or fuss about it, just plunked down and sat there.
“It’s not just about money, Adam.” Now Josie did go to her child and pick him
up. “It’s also about me giving something back to the people who have been so
kind to me.”
His brow furrowed. “My family?”
“The people of Mt. Knott.”
“Even if you have to take money from the people who have let the whole town down
to do it?”
“I don’t see them as having let the town down. They certainly did not want their
business to flounder. I don’t understand your animosity toward your father. As a
father yourself now, it just seems that you’d be more forgiving.”
He hung his head. “Maybe I haven’t been a father long enough.”
“But you’ve been a son for most of your life, a brother and a—”
“And a stray.”
You don’t have to be a stray, she wanted to say. You have Nathan now. Nathan and
me. “Why can’t you let go of that?”
He paused.
For a moment she thought he might break down, then he gathered himself, squared
his shoulders and shook his head. “I have to go.”
She could have offered to walk with him. He’d left his motorcycle behind the
Home Cookin’ Kitchen, after all, but she knew he wouldn’t want to be seen with
her and Nathan. A protective move, he’d say, but Josie could not make herself
accept that without some reservation. So she watched Adam leave the house via
the back door and disappear into the night without anything more demonstrative
than a mumbled goodbye.
Ten minutes later she shut her front door behind her, not knowing what to do
first about all this. Should she panic or praise the Lord?
Praise. Definitely praise.
Once she had spent a little time in prayer and thanksgiving, she would surely
not feel so overwhelmed by everything and underequipped to deal with it. She had
to stop and marvel at that notion. She had lived from one crisis to the next for
so long, hung on by her virtual fingertips to survive from her childhood to her
son’s infancy.
But now she wasn’t quite sure how to act when so much good news came her way.
One thing after another, each brighter and more positive than the last. Who knew
that even that would carry its own kind of stress? Have its own unique way of
needing to lean on the Lord?
Josie hummed a hymn and walked toward the Home Cookin’ Kitchen with a spring in
her step that had not been there in a long, long time. She carried Nathan in her
arms and from time to time he would lay his chubby cheek against hers as he
gnawed his fist and “sang” along with her.
“Ya-ya-ya.”
It wasn’t exactly to the tune of “Blessed Be the Tie that Binds” but the child
did manage to keep the right rhythm. Of course, every mother thought her own
child was some kind of genius. And while Josie didn’t see a musical career in
Nathan’s future, she did think he might have an affinity for listening and
repeating.
“Ya-ya-ya.”
“No. Not ya-ya. Try this, ma-ma.”
“Ya-ya.”
“No. No. Listen—” Josie pressed her lips together to sound it out. “Mmmma-mmma.”
“Na-na-na.”
“Mama.” She hadn’t encouraged the child to call her that before now. She
couldn’t. Not until…
Josie could not dismiss Ophelia’s fickleness and that, until now, she had to be
aware of the fact that there was an unknown father who could show up and take
Nathan away. Now she had Adam’s word, knew that his father was a sweet gentleman
willing to welcome her into the family—if only on the fringes—and Ophelia’s
signature on the proper legal documents that meant that Nathan would soon be
hers forever.
The only thing that could make this day better was to hear him form the name she
hoped he’d call her for the rest of his life. “C’mon, Nath. Mama. Ma-ma-ma.
Mama.”
“Na-na-na.”
“Mmmmmama. Ma-ma.” She pointed to herself.
“Mmmmmya-ya.” He pointed to himself.
“No, Nathan, that’s me. Mama.” Just saying it lifted her heart. So she pressed
her fingertip more emphatically to her chest and said it again. “I’m your mama.”
The child touched one finger to her face. “Ya-ya. Na-na. Da-da!”
“D-dada? Where did that come from?” Why was she asking him that? Even if he
could have responded, Josie already knew the answer. “I have had you since the
day you came home from the hospital. Walked the floors with you, prayed over
you, spent every possible moment I could with you, and you call me the same
thing you call your boo-boo bear and your big toe. He has you for a morning and
a few hours in the afternoon and already you know the name, Da-da.”
She hugged her boy close, not minding one bit that he had formed an instant and
irrepressible bond with his father. Josie couldn’t help noticing the man’s
charms herself.
“Dada. Da-da-da.” He waved is hand around.
“Okay, I got it. Save it for when you see—” She followed the line of her son’s
finger and gasped. “Adam?”
Across the street from the Home Cookin’ Kitchen and down about half a block was
the unmistakable shape of a man in black standing by a gleaming Harley. He had
his back to them and showed no probability of turning around, not when he was
leaning with his forearm on a sleek silver car, talking to…someone. She couldn’t
see who.
“Not that it matters,” she murmured to Nathan, thinking that even a one-year-old
had to know she had really been talking to herself. “What the man does is his
own business. Though…that doesn’t look like business. Unless it’s funny
business.”
Josie pulled Nathan close and stepped into the doorway of the vacant building
next to the Home Cookin’ Kitchen. She needed a moment to gather herself. She did
not know what Adam was up to, though he’d made it clear he had no intention of
telling her, so she couldn’t be hurt by his need for privacy.
But the fact that it was not privacy that the man wanted but secrecy, that’s
what needled her.
She recognized the signs of it from all her years dealing with her mother and
Ophelia. Master manipulators, they always had schemes and small subterfuges
working behind the scenes. Always had to be someplace, meet a person here or
there, never in the open. Never on the up and up.
Josie’s heart sank. She would not condemn Adam or write him off based on what
little she did know. But she also could not simply believe in him blindly.
Adam had asked her to trust him and said he would take her into account when
making decisions. But judging from his effort to get her not to cook for the
barbecue and this sneaky behavior, the only thing he was taking into account was
his own clandestine plans.
If it were just her, she might…but it wasn’t just her. And if the adoption plans
went well it would never be just her again.
Adam could promise to take her into account, but Josie didn’t have a choice, she
had to think of Nathan first and do what was best for him. That meant keeping
both the doors of her business and the lines of communication between herself
and the Burdetts open. And if Adam didn’t like it, then…
A pang of guilt made her look in his direction just in time to see him point the
way out of town, then step away from the silver car to reveal he had been
speaking to a woman. A pretty woman. Poised. Even from this vantage point she
gave off a sense of power and professionalism that Josie could never posses.
The woman started her car and pulled away from the curb.
“Dada.”
“Shh. Nathan,” she snapped.
The baby silenced.
“Mama’s not mad at you, honey, it’s just that…”
Adam got onto this Harley and took off, right behind the woman in the sleek
sedan, without so much as a backward glance.
“I need to think.” She tucked the child close and hurried to the front door of
her well-lit diner, mumbling as she did, “Now, where did I put Burke Burdett’s
business card?”
Chapter Eight
“Thank you for meeting me out here on such short notice.” Adam extended his hand
to Dora Hoag. A compact, athletic woman with short black hair and the kind of
personality that made people around her feel as if they were always running
behind the power-walking, Bluetooth talking, multitasking, no-quarter-asking
executive.
“It’s just that once people know I’m in town it would only take a Web search to
connect me to Global…”
“I understand your personal issues in all of this, Burdett.” She didn’t look at
him when she spoke, so he was glad she’d used his name.
Dora tended not to look people in the eye unless they were her superiors or
somebody she could get some good business out of. More than once Adam had almost
commented on something she had said only to realize in the nick of time she was
carrying on an electronic conversation and was hardly even aware of his
presence.
She took only a moment to sweep her gaze over their surroundings.
Adam did the same.
He scowled that the half asphalt, half gravel parking lot that Adam had promised
employees time and again they would finish off—only to have his father say it
was fine the way it was—had not been fixed. And the long, low building painted
buttery yellow and…well, the color had originally been called café au lait meant
to evoke one of the flavors in their famed Crumble Pattie, had not been
repainted in years. Now the butter color looked more like someone had mixed mud
into vanilla ice cream, and the café au lait had sun-faded to a pinkish color
not unlike the pancake makeup he’d seen elderly ladies wear to church.
Separating the two colors was a border of bright blue-and-white checks and what
was supposed to be an image of their lone product stamped like a large seal of
approval to one side.
Corporate logos were supposed to be so easily identifiable that even without the
red script “Carolina Crumble Pattie” emblazoned next to it, everyone who had
ever seen the product would immediately recognize it. Adam had grown up making
and eating that product and he still had no idea what the image on the building
was supposed to be.
Luckily they had not used it in packaging or anything official. One of the
ongoing battles Adam had had with his father was about that very image. Adam had
suggested they tap a fresh-faced local girl for the image of “Carolina
Pattie”—and as he recalled that, Josie came to mind. But his father had flatly
refused, not because Conner believed in the power of the disproportioned artwork
but because he loved the artist, his wife, Maggie Burdett.
Adam had to force down the lump in his throat then. He looked away from the
facade of the building and narrowed his eyes on the hills in the distance.
“But to me there is nothing personal at all here.” Dora gave a sniff, frowned,
then brought her full attention to bear on Adam, or as much of her attention as
she gave to anyone in his position. “It’s just business.”
“But it won’t be to my family.” He motioned toward the back door marked
Employees Only and pulled a key from his pocket. He unlocked the door, feeling a
twinge of guilt about it. Dora didn’t want to recognize the personal connection
but she had no problem using it to give her a slight edge in her decision-making
process. “My older brother and father would rather drive this business into the
ground than to have to admit they needed me to broker the deal that would keep
them afloat.”
“That’s why they are in the shape they are in.” She crossed the threshold into
the dimly lit hallway. “Can’t run a successful business like that, right?”
Adam assumed she didn’t actually expect him to answer. Surely Dora had her own
business opinions and theories.
He reached out and even in the darkness knew just where to find the light
switch. It was a little like coming home to be here now. The comforting whirr of
the fluorescent lights. The echo of their footsteps on the concrete floor. The
familiar smell of the day’s baking still lingered in the air.
Adam looked at the key in his hand, then down the length of the hallway with
office doors on both sides. Then he searched beyond to the factory proper at the
far end. Whether Dora wanted a response or not, he felt he had to say one thing.
“They made a success of it for a lot of years.”
“I know.” There was an uncharacteristic kindness to her voice. Then she cleared
her throat and took a step down the hall. “I’ve seen the profit-and-loss
statements for the last decade. Mostly loss the last few years.”
Adam squared his shoulders. “We can change all that.”
“Global can change all that.” She did not snap or come off defensive. If
anything, Adam picked up a note of weariness, perhaps resignation in her reply.
“And I know perfectly well what Global is capable of doing.”
So did Adam, which was why he wanted to hear what Dora had in mind before Global
went after the Crumble. They couldn’t buy the company out if they didn’t want to
sell. Since the company was privately held, they could not force a hostile
takeover.
What they could do was look at the company from every angle and see how they
could make their own Crumble Pattie, bypassing the Burdetts altogether and
undercutting their sales. That could put them out of business a full six months
to a year sooner than the family would have managed to close the doors
themselves. Or Global could come in, make a nice offer to take over the factory,
let them keep their good name and take the Crumble Pattie to a national market
as “one of the Global family of fine foods.” They could save the company.
Except Adam suspected his father and brothers would not see it that way.
“On the up side of things, the Carolina Crumble Pattie factory turns out a very
good product.” She walked to the first office door and stopped to face it. Adam
did not have to share her line of vision to know what name was painted in gold
and black on the frosted glass: Conner Burdett—President. “They are a widely
recognized brand in the region and a ready and loyal workforce.”
“That hasn’t changed,” he reminded her.
“You don’t have to sell me on this company, Burdett.” A few more steps and a
half turn put her in front of Burke’s office door. She reached out to brush her
fingertips over the name there. “I just needed to clap eyes on the physical
locality before I make a recommendation to the higher-ups.”
“And that recommendation will be?” Burke’s deep voice startled Adam but seemed
to have little effect on Dora.
Adam turned around and planted his feet shoulder width apart. He supposed the
two of them looked a bit like old-time cowboys calling one another out in the
street. Adam, who felt his features probably seemed darker and more menacing in
the narrow hallway, stood six inches shorter than Burke, the tall fair-haired
man with broad shoulders and unblinking blue eyes.
Adam did not react to his brother’s looming presence with anything more than a
quiet, “I suppose you want my key back?”
Burke let the door fall shut behind him. “I’d settle for an explanation for why
you are here.”
“I’d rather give you my key.” Adam started to tug it off the key ring.
“Don’t bother. If I had been worried about keeping you out I’d have changed the
locks.” That could mean more than one thing: the most likely being that Burke
already knew about Adam’s connection to Global and had prepared himself to
handle it; or he was just toying with his younger brother, letting Adam know he
would never be intimidated by a stray like him.
“I assumed you came here because you were worried,” Adam challenged. “Somebody
call and report seeing Dora’s car and my Harley in the lot?”
Burke shook his head. “I came out to meet with Josie Redmond about this fool
barbecue deal Dad wants to throw.”
Adam stepped back. “Josie?”
“She should be out here after she closes up.”
“So, she is going through with that, then?”
“Was there ever any doubt?”
Yes. Adam had hoped she would turn his father down. Not just because he did not
like the idea of her being in the middle of it all. Also since his brothers
clearly had no inclination to organize the meal if Josie didn’t pitch in, the
whole event might just fall quietly by the wayside. “When is this barbecue?”
“Saturday,” Burke said sounding more like a bull snorting than a man discussing
a party.
“This Saturday?” Dora tipped her head and looked directly at the taller of the
two brothers.
Burke nodded. Then he cocked his own head at the same angle as Dora’s and said,
“You’re welcome to come.”
Adam had not introduced Dora on purpose. He didn’t plan on changing that now.
“She won’t—”
“I might just do that,” Dora cut Adam off and held her hand out to Burke. “Dora
Hoag.”
“Burke Burdett.”
Neither of them gave their business titles or bothered to share what
relationship they had to the man they had in common, Adam. He couldn’t help but
feel a little left out over that.
She held Burke’s hand longer than she’d ever held a handshake, or even eye
contact with Adam. “Does your company do this kind of thing for the community
regularly?”
“Never,” Adam muttered.
Burke did not let go of Dora’s hand but waited for her to slip it away. Then he
added, “And the old man isn’t doing this for the community.”
Dora looked from the older brother to the younger. “Oh?”
Burke squinted Adam’s way. “It’s a big party to honor the return of the favored
son.”
Adam pressed his lips together to spew out a curse. He caught a glimpse of his
boss standing by watching with undisguised interest. Then he looked to Burke,
who had spent a lifetime provoking all of the younger brothers and enjoying it
far too much when Adam, inevitably, rose to the bait. He decided to forgo any
gut reaction and respond with calm honesty. “Me? The favored son? Hardly.”
“These days you are.”
“No.” He refused to believe that. “Being the singled-out son is not the same as
being favored. I’ve never been favored in this town for anything, unless it was
to let everyone down.”
“That’s not how I recall it. The old man and I have always butted heads. Lucky
tries to stay below his radar. And the Hound…” Even though they had outgrown
and/or rejected the designations long ago, Burke still called each of them by
their old nicknames.
“Cody,” Adam corrected quietly. “The old man has to be proud of Cody.”
“Yeah. Sure. Pleased that the Hound found his calling and that he married a
really nice girl. But less pleased that they are waiting to start a family until
they have a church and anything but pleased that his preacher son is trying to
influence him to apply Christian values to running the business.”
“What’s wrong with that?” Dora asked.
Adam and Burke both looked her way.
Her expression had changed, brightened while at the same time appeared more
relaxed than Adam ever recalled her looking in the past. “Global sprang from a
family business founded on Biblical principles.”
Adam hadn’t known that. It certainly didn’t show in their current business
model. Or did it? He had to admit to himself that he’d been so focused on his
own goal he hadn’t given that much thought.
“Interesting.” Burke eyed her, sizing her up.
Burke sized everyone up. Adam had always had the impression that nobody ever
measured up to his brother’s standards.
“Maybe you can tell me how that has worked out for—” he gave her an almost
admiring smile “—Global, did you say?”
Adam cleared his throat to take the heat off Dora. “Okay, so the old man is on
the outs with Cody. That doesn’t automatically move me up to the top of the
heap.”
Top of the dog pile was Burke’s spot, and Adam concluded he wouldn’t be able to
resist making sure everyone, especially the woman who had caught the older
brother’s interest, knew it.
“No, that doesn’t place you on top in Dad’s eyes. But being the first of his
boys to produce a grandchild does.”
Once again his family proved him wrong.
Adam shut his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Every disclaimer he could
dredge up, from Nathan not being a Burdett by blood to wondering how their
father could accept a child born out of wedlock, faltered unsaid when Burke
leveled his gaze on Adam and added, “You don’t know what it means to him to hold
at least one member of the next generation before he dies.”
“He’s too tough to die,” Adam blurted out, all cavalier and full of bluster. But
the bluster came not from the well of anger that had sustained him for far too
long. Just acknowledging that his father had any weakness, much less that he
would not be with them for years to come, left Adam feeling like a six-year-old
kid, lost and afraid. “He’s not…he’s not sick is he?”
“Yeah. Heartsick,” Burke said.
“Because of Mom?” Adam asked.
“Mom. You. The business. The town.” Burke did not look Adam in the eye as he
went down the list. “Your coming back and that baby are the first bright spots
he’s had in a very long while.”
Adam swallowed hard and clenched his jaw to force back the emotion rising from
his chest.
“Maybe I shouldn’t be hearing this,” Dora said softly, but she made no attempt
to leave.
“Maybe you should.” Burke did not say that he knew what she was up to, that he
understood that she saw everything that mattered to him as a property, a
product, an investment or a loss. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you
knew a little about my father.”
Adam stepped up. “Burke, that’s not—”
Burke ignored him. “Everything that old man did, he did for this family. His
family is still what matters most to him.”
“Easy for you to say,” Adam muttered, only, for once he felt no anger or
animosity behind it.
“Maybe it is. Maybe it is easier for someone outside a situation to see it for
what it really is. With that kid, you gave him the one thing no spreadsheet or
year-end report or bank balance could ever provide—a glimpse into the future.”
Adam did not know what to say to that. He knew Burke was right about his father
and the family, yet he seriously doubted his own role in that family. How could
he and a child he had produced, not from love and commitment and honor, but in a
thoughtless run of sinful self-indulgence, mean anything to Adam’s adoptive
father? He meant the world to Adam already, of course, but to Conner Burdett?
The child didn’t even carry the name.
Yet.
Yet? Adam had never had a genuine “lightbulb” moment—where his dim view of the
world suddenly became bright and clear as daylight in an instant—until now. Now
standing in this building where he had literally grown up, where he had played
with his brothers as a child and fought with them as a young adult, and torn
away from them as a determined business man with his own ideas, Adam understood.
He owed it to Nathan to give him not just a name but a place in this family.
Nathan deserved his part of the legacy that was the Burdett family and the
Carolina Crumble Pattie Factory. The good, the bad…and the delicious.
He chuckled to himself at that.
“What?” Burke demanded, probably feeling defensive over the idea that Adam might
be laughing at him.
Adam shook his head. “Nothing. You just opened my eyes a little bit, big
brother.” Adam slapped a hand on Burke’s broad shoulder, and slapped it hard. He
cared for the big lug but he hadn’t turned to emotional mush. “I realize I have
a lot more to accomplish while I’m in town than I had originally planned on.”
“Then get out of here and get to it.” He brushed Adam’s hand off, but he did it
with respect in his eyes.
That was new, Adam noted. He decided to test the depths of that respect. “I
will. But I have to finish the job I came here to do.”
Adam held his hand out to indicate Dora should accompany him down the hallway.
“Ms. Hoag?”
“Hold it.” Burke put his hand on Dora’s arm. “You sold your shares in this place
eighteen months ago. It’s not yours to show to anyone.”
“You plan to call security for your own brother?” Dora asked. She sounded more
curious than concerned.
“No, ma’am.”
Adam tucked his thumb into the waistband of his favorite pair of broken-in black
jeans. He stood his ground.
“I don’t need to call security to deal with my brother. I am the security that
deals with him.” Burke managed somehow to take up the whole breadth and height
of the section of narrow hallway where he stood. “He’d do well to remember
that.”
“You haven’t bested me since we got into it right after I graduated high school.
And may I remind you, you always had a few years and five inches, and—” Adam
stopped to look his brother over, taking a moment to show he’d noticed the way
age had thickened the older man’s midsection. He’d not gotten fat, by any means,
but he wasn’t the lean kid he’d once been. “And a few pounds on me.”
“Not to mention a lot more smart.” Burke tapped his finger to his temple and
grinned.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means I have enough sense to offer to spend my evening with this lovely
lady, showing her around the place and to tell you to get your tail out of here
and go see how you can be of help to your son and Josie instead of hanging
around where you don’t belong like some—”
“Watch it,” Adam warned.
“Stray dog,” Burke concluded. “Be a man, Adam.”
The knot in Adam’s gut rivaled his fist for size and tension. If his boss hadn’t
been standing there calmly watching his every reaction, Adam might just have
decked his brother then.
He eyed the bigger, beefier man head to toe and corrected himself. He’d have
taken a swing at him. Made contact, even, then probably gotten the fire whipped
out of him. Two years ago, even a week ago, Adam would have thought it would
have been worth the pain and humiliation of defeat just to show his brother, or
anyone, that he would back down to no one. Now?
Now Adam held his hand out to the man, not clenched in a fist but open and in a
show of deference and gratitude. “I think I’ll just do that. In fact, why don’t
we both be men and conduct ourselves and our business with one another the best
way we know how. As Christians.”
Burke eyed the hand. He scratched his chin. Clearly he knew that if he took
Adam’s hand now he was not just making an overture of reconciliation, he was
pledging to act according to the principles they had both learned from their
mother about morality, forgiveness and trust, among other things.
He hesitated, looked at Dora Hoag, who was studying him not unlike the way a
scientist eyes a test subject, then he exhaled loud and gruff.
“Yeah.” He grabbed Adam’s hand and clamped down hard. “Okay.”
“You all right with this, Ms. Hoag?” Adam asked.
“He’s your brother. You tell me. Will I be all right?”
Adam chuckled. “If you can stand him, you’ll be fine.”
Dora Hoag had come to see the facilities. Adam knew she would reveal nothing
about their business plans to Burke. Likewise, Burke would not tell Dora any
secrets that might throw the deal in either direction. It would, in fact, be
either a quiet tour or one that veered off into more personal territory. Who
knew where that might lead? Maybe a year from now Adam would be in Mt. Knott
running the plant and Burke would be traveling the country in charge of
acquisitions.
Besides, Burke would be within his rights to throw them both off the premises.
Leaving her here with his brother actually seemed the best solution.
“If you hurry you can get to Josie before she closes up.” Burke reached into his
jeans pocket and pulled a folded piece of yellow legal paper out. “Give this to
Josie. It’s more budget, cost-per-guest type of thing, than a menu. All I care
about is, is there is enough food out here by noon Saturday to feed every hungry
mouth that shows up. I’ll leave the actual food part up to her.”
Dora looked at him as if that had told her something significant about the man.
“What can I say?” Burke shifted his shoulders and settled his thumbs in his belt
loops in an “aw shucks” manner that belied the hardened business acumen lurking
beneath the surface. “I’m a number cruncher not a chef.”
“Don’t buy that act,” Adam told Dora with a smile.
She shook her head. “Don’t you worry about me.”
Adam laughed, quietly. “Yeah, he may be Top Dawg around here but I’ve seen you
in action, Ms. Hoag. You are the Alpha Shark in a sea full of circling
man-eaters.”
For half an instant it dawned on Adam that Ms. Hoag, not the savvy
businesswoman, but the just plain old smitten woman, might not have wanted that
kind of image put before Burke.
But she laughed, gave Burke a look that promised Adam meant every word then
turned to the younger brother and looked him in the eye for the first time maybe
ever. She said, “I will see you at the barbecue, Burdett. And I can make you
this promise. I’ll give you my recommendation there, before I turn it official.”
It was a courtesy Adam had not earned by rank or familiarity, so he appreciated
it all the more. Despite her claims of it not being personal, she was granting
him the chance to know what she would say, what Global would most likely do,
before anyone else knew.
Once that would have made him so proud, given him a sense of power over his
family. Now it felt like a heavy burden to bear. Not because anything had
changed about his father or his family or how they felt toward him. He was still
the outsider. The one who no longer had a stake in their livelihood and who had
never had a place in their hearts, the stray.
But Adam had changed, just a little.
He wasn’t a stray.
He was a father now, and he had to start acting like it, starting with going to
Josie and supporting her in doing what she thought was right for herself, the
people she cared about and her son. Even if what she thought was right meant
catering to and collaborating with his family.
Chapter Nine
Josie stood back from the blackboard wall. She pulled the scrunchie from her
ponytail and sighed in relief as the curls fell around her shoulders and the
tightness eased from her scalp. She replayed her earlier phone conversation with
Burke Burdett.
She had to whip up every last ounce of courage to make the call, partly because
she knew Adam hadn’t wanted her to do it. But mostly because, of all the Burdett
brothers, whose reputations were considerable in this town, Burke was the
most…the biggest…the…well, he didn’t just like the nickname Top Dawg, the man
lived it. He had to take the lead in every situation, every conversation and he
had to come out on top of every transaction, deal or exchange. What chance did a
girl like Josie stand with a man like that?
Pretty good, it turned out, once he’d learned that Adam had offered her money to
not take the job. She hadn’t meant to tell him that. It had just slipped out.
But after it had, the man had gone to great lengths to accommodate her.
She would have liked to tell him she had never known that kind of rivalry for a
sibling who, while you worked and followed the narrow path, chased after their
own interests and still ended up your parent’s darling while you went unnoticed.
But she understood the feeling exactly and he knew it.
That fact had gone far to forming an unspoken bond between them. Burke wanted to
get every last detail of this party right, and when she thought of Adam with
that polished and poised businesswoman, she wanted that, too. It might be a
party to commemorate Adam’s return, but it was going to give Josie and Burke
each a chance to shine. Whatever good it would do them.
So Burke had been particularly open to her suggestions when she explained her
plan to use her suppliers for the food and sundries and enlist the help of the
locals to get the “fixin’s” to the tables.
Burke had told her he didn’t care how she did it. As their official caterer she
just needed to get it done right. Still, she felt bad about not cooking
everything herself. However, given the short notice and the number of pies they
would need to feed the crowd, it was the only realistic solution. Besides, Josie
loved the idea of the community showing the Burdetts just what they could do
when they all pulled together.
“This just might work.” She studied the complex maze of columns, lines and
arrows charting out how to supply enough food for the celebration.
“Oh, good. You’re not closed yet.” Adam came striding in with such confidence
that she knew he couldn’t have imagined for one second that he’d find that door
locked.
“Just sorting out some details before…” Somehow admitting where she was headed
after closing felt like a bit of a betrayal. Only, Josie couldn’t say exactly
who it was she thought she’d be letting down—Adam or Burke. Or herself. “Give me
your honest opinion.”
“Always.”
“Do you think potato salad is a salad or a side?”
“What?”
Josie rolled her eyes at her own feeble attempt at diversion. She’d never been
any good at anything that required her to be socially adept or coy. That was
Ophelia’s area of expertise. Josie had admired that about her sister, except for
how her sister sometimes used it to take advantage of others.
She looked at the square-shouldered man who had obviously found much to
appreciate about Ophelia, as well.
Still, she’d started this, so she had to stumble through it.
“Um, you know, potato salad?” She pantomimed eating as if she thought the man
spoke another language, or perhaps had once been seen using globs of potatoes
and mayonnaise as a hat and needed to know she meant the other kind of potato
salad. “Would you classify it as a salad or a side dish?”
“Why would I want to do either?”
“Well, you wouldn’t but I have to.” She stepped back and showed him the
convoluted columns on the wall. “See, I’ve just about worked this all out.” She
waved her hand like a game-show model. “But there is sort of a…hiccup in the
division of salads-versus-side-dishes. We’re heavily weighted toward side
dishes.”
He squinted at the board and made a noncommittal, “Hmmm.”
“It’s probably fine. I think we’ll have enough food if everyone brings what they
are assigned.”
“Looks like you’ve got it all figured out.” He turned toward the wall.
She stared at the squiggles and notations, waiting for him to say something
about it all. To point out that if she had been ethical enough not to take money
from him for something she didn’t deserve, she shouldn’t take it from his family
for the same reason. She wasn’t doing the majority of the cooking, after all.
Maybe he’d find some other fault with her decision.
Or maybe he didn’t care at all, especially since he had a real lady friend in
town.
The longer they went without speaking, the more the situation, or the
nonsituation, built up in her mind. If she let it go on much longer who knew
what wild story she would concoct? A potato-salad conspiracy? Bank loans being
called in before the barbecue check arrived? Adam choosing the woman in a silver
sedan to step in as Nathan’s stepmother?
“I had to do it, Adam.” The words rushed out. “It was just good business. The
way things are in Mt. Knott, turning down this amount of business just wouldn’t
be smart.”
He looked at her at last, a twinkle in his eyes. “Well, no one ever accused me
of being smart,”
“Don’t feel bad. Some folks have to be content to be just another pretty face,”
she teased him right back. As soon as the words left her mouth she felt the heat
rise in her face like some silly schoolgirl. Socially adept as Ophelia, she was
not. “Uh, you’d better go. I have to lock up and see if I can get someone to
watch Nathan before I go out to discuss all this with your brother.”
“All this?” He held his hand out. “Salads and hiccups and all?”
“Uh-huh.”
“As has been pointed out not that long ago, I am not the smart one ’round these
parts, but wouldn’t it have been smoother to have him come here and see this for
himself?”
She gave a shrug. “He’s the boss.”
Adam’s mouth tightened. “Fair enough,” he relented. “But right now your boss is
busy with my boss.”
“Your…does she happen to be a very well-put-together lady?”
“Well, I’ve never checked her for patches or busted seams—”
“I’m glad to hear that!” Josie slapped her hand over her mouth before her
ineptitude got her into further trouble.
Adam grinned. “But, yes, Ms. Hoag comes off as very well pulled together.”
“Comes off as? Meaning looks can be deceiving?”
“Lots of things can be deceiving,” he said enigmatically. “But this ‘look’ is on
the up and up.”
Josie nodded. “So, what does that mean for me?”
She forced herself not to put her hand over her mouth again. She was asking what
Adam’s boss being with her boss meant for her, not what Ms. Hoag’s “look” and
association with Adam meant to her. If he didn’t gather that then…then maybe
she’d have some of her most burning questions answered.
“It means I get to bring you this.” He held out a piece of folded paper. “It’s
the budget for the party that Burke worked up on your preliminary information.”
“Oh?” She took the paper and unfolded it slowly.
“If it’s not right, if you need more money or autonomy, leave it to me. I’ll fix
it. I’ll make sure my family does right by you, Josie.”
But who will make sure you do right by me? Never a slow learner, Josie had
managed to keep that remark entirely to herself. Still, she did wonder…
“What do you think?”
“Think?” She had kept the remark silent, right?
“About Burke’s figures.”
“Oh.” She took a minute to read over the paper. Burke had been quite generous
with her, but not so much that she would have felt compelled to argue the money.
“I think I can work with this.”
“Really? And get it all done by Saturday at noon?”
“I’m closing down after the coffee rush tomorrow, and I’m going to make pies
into the wee hours of the night.”
“You poor kid.”
“No! I can’t wait. I’m looking forward to it. The chance to do what I love and
the one thing I know I am good at.”
“One thing? No way.” He moved closer to her. So close he could brush the freshly
undone curls off one shoulder as he said with quiet intensity, “Josie you’re
great at so many things…”
“How would you know?”
“I just do. You’re a good mom, I know that and…”
“And that’s enough for now.” She held up her hand and retreated from him. “It
really means a lot to hear you say that, though.”
He only nodded, his hand still in the air at shoulder level for a moment before
he let it fall to his side.
“That’s one reason I’m so excited about tomorrow.” She took a chatty tone,
hoping to take control of things again. She walked briskly toward the front
door, hoping Adam would follow and be on his way. “I get to do the work I love,
knowing it will be enjoyed by the people I love, plus I get to have Nathan
nearby all day.”
He did follow, a bit too closely.
When she turned around, she found herself just inches away from the man.
“What…could be…better?”
“What indeed?”
“What indeed?” she murmured. Then, coming to her senses before she gave in to
the deep, soothing masculinity of his voice, she gave the door a push and cool
air rushed in around them. “I know. It sounds completely corny to a man like
you.”
“A man like me?”
“A man of the world.”
“Harsh words.”
“Harsh? That you’re educated, well-spoken, well traveled, experienced and
sophisticated?”
“That I am ‘of the world’ when you so clearly need a man willing to come out of
the world and separate himself from its ways.”
She smiled slightly to hear him paraphrase the Biblical admonition that
Christians should be apart from the world. “I was thinking more that you’re
worldly and I’m…Mt. Knotty.”
“You’re the last person I’d consider naughty,” he teased. “In fact, I’d vote you
Most Likely to be Nice.”
“Knottish, then.” She gave him a good-humored scowl.
“Knottish or not at all, I’m in the very same boat as you there.” He put his
hand on the door and raised his face to the summer breeze. “I grew up right here
in Carolina countryside. Except for this last year and a half in Atlanta I
haven’t lived anywhere else. I spent my holidays here, my summer vacations and
made this my home after college.”
“I guess I never thought of that.” Josie stared out into the fading light of
evening. “I always pictured the Burdetts as having a different kind of lifestyle
than the rest of us.”
“We did. Still do, I suspect.” His arm still braced to prop the door open, he
narrowed his eyes at the blackboard wall. “Where the rest of you got to clock
out and leave the factory behind you, we all carried the responsibilities with
us all the time. As a kid I used to ride my bike straight to the Crumble, did my
homework in my dad’s office, then went home with my mom for dinner then back to
help my dad lock up.”
“Oh, Adam, that is so sad.”
“Sad? How so?”
“Sort of missed out on your childhood, didn’t you?”
“And your childhood, Josie?”
She shook her head. “I sort of missed out on my childhood, too. Though I don’t
know that Ophelia would say she missed out on hers.”
“Personally, I think she may still be living hers.”
“Adam!” Josie had thought the exact same thing, but it was the age-old conundrum
about brothers and sisters. You can say whatever you feel about them, but just
let someone else try it and suddenly you’ll defend your loved one. “Ophelia must
have matured some. Otherwise why would she have signed the papers allowing me to
adopt Nathan and finally shared the information about his father?”
“About me,” he corrected.
She pressed her lips together.
He bowed his head for a moment, then looked again out into the serene small-town
setting.
Josie put her back against the other side of the door frame and crossed her
ankles. “At least when you were doing all those things, you were doing them
here, in a safe home, a nice town and with your family. I was dropped off in Mt.
Knott and only saw my mother now and then, and Ophelia almost never.”
“I guess I do have that to be thankful for.”
Ophelia wasn’t the only one showing more maturity, Josie thought. Two days ago
Adam would have used that opportunity to lambaste his family or make a joke
about their rocky relationships.
“It’s not that bad, now that I have—” her gaze met his “—now that I have Nathan.
And I hope that Ophelia will come around in time. I wrote her a nice long
thank-you letter when she signed those papers and told her she was welcome to
visit us anytime.”
“And you think she will take you up on that?” His eyes grew dark. His back went
straight.
Josie wasn’t sure if it was hope or horror in his voice.
“She’s my sister, Adam. I can’t forget that.”
“Neither can I,” he said softly. “You may think of me as a man of the world, but
I’m just as humbled and confused by all of this as you are, Josie.”
“So if we’re not worldly what does that make us?” she asked.
“A couple of Mt. Knott-heads?” Laughter mingled with the more somber emotions in
his expression.
“A couple of workaholics.” She checked her watch. They’d both put in more than a
full day’s duty and it wasn’t even dark yet. Realizing he wasn’t going to take
the hint and walk out, Josie headed inside. Full day’s work or not, she still
had to close down.
“So what do we do about that?” he asked.
“Do?” She flipped the lock shut and turned the Open sign to the Sorry, We’re
Closed side. “About what?”
“About all work and no play making us dull folks.”
She headed for the cash register, wondering if she could just pull the drawer,
lock it in the vault and count the money in the morning. “I don’t think anyone
has ever described you as dull, Adam Burdett.”
“Would it shock you to say that sometimes I wish they would?”
Ching.
She stood with her hand hovering above the register key that had just opened the
drawer. “Yes. I can think of a lot of other words I’d use for you, but dull? I
just can’t see it.”
“What words?”
“Hmm?” She wrestled the money compartment free and clunked it on the counter.
He stood at her side now. “What words would you use for me?”
She gave the stacks of bills, all ones and fives, a quick reckoning. “Strong.
Decent. Maybe a little bit—” she lifted the top half of the compartment to check
underneath for checks and twenties and found one of each “—dangerous.”
He did not contest that.
She started to turn to take the drawer to the back, then her curiosity got the
better of her. She had to know. “What words would you use to describe me?”
“You? Hmmm. That’s tough.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Ex-peshully for a pretty-faced country dawg like me, ma’am, who ain’t got a
very big vol-cab-ulurry.”
“Maybe if I held up a treat and commanded you to speak?” She sank her teeth into
her lower lip.
“Do I get to choose what you use for a treat?”
“Okay. I get it. I’m too…me for words.” She spun around and headed into the
kitchen, intent on putting the money in the back room, gathering up her sleeping
child, getting home and putting this day—and this man—behind her.
“Capable.”
“What?” She looked up as her shoulder touched the office door and found him
right beside her.
“One of the words I’d use is capable.”
“Well, isn’t that…utilitarian?” She stepped into the small room and set the
money on the desk.
“And smart,” he added, following her inside.
“Better,” she plucked the key to the vault off the hook, then turned and found
she couldn’t take another step.
“And—” he leaned in “—kissable.”
Moments before he could put his lips to hers she had to whisper. “But I’m not
Ophelia.”
“What?”
“I may be the things you described me as, but the one thing I am not…is
Ophelia.”
“I know that.”
“Then you will understand why I can’t let you kiss me now.”
“I will?”
“If you’ll excuse me I have got to finish up in here and take Nathan home.”
“Now?”
“Yes, now. He’s already asleep, and I’d like to get him to his crib.”
“No. You said you can’t let me kiss you now. Does that mean you can let me kiss
you eventually?”
Josie hesitated.
“Ah, c’mon, give a guy some hope.”
“Adam,” she whispered. “It’s too fast. It’s too…much. We have to think about
Nathan and his custody.” Then there is the whole Ophelia issue. “We can’t just
give in to our feelings for each other without taking things like that into
account. It’s too soon.”
She marched to the door. “If you don’t mind. I have to lock up before I leave.”
“Let me see you home.”
“I can manage the short walk.” She shoved him out the office door. “But if you
want to spend some time with your son, come by here tomorrow afternoon. There
might even be something sweet in it for you.”
“Ahh, hope springs eternal.” He put his hand to his heart.
“I’m talking baked goods,” she called after him.
But he didn’t seem to hear a word of it.
Chapter Ten
Adam belted out his own version of “That’s Amore” with a tribute to “Josie’s
apple pie” as he swung open the front door of the Home Cookin’ Kitchen.
Everyone in the whole room, including Nathan in his portable playpen in the
corner, fixed their eyes on him. Mouths gaped open.
He paused in the open doorway. “What? Can’t a man face the day with a song in
his heart?”
“If it stays in his heart,” Jed grumbled.
“Once it starts spilling out past his teeth and starts getting stuck into the
ears of innocent bystanders, them innocent bystanders got a right to make a
comment.”
“And your comment is?” Adam asked.
The two older fellows exchanged glances before they spoke as one, saying, “Shut
your pie hole!”
“Aw, leave him alone. I like this side of him. Better than that strong, silent
type skulking about on that noisy motorcycle,” said a woman standing at the
table of coffeepots, pouring cream into a steaming thermal cup.
“I like the other side of him,” Warren gruffly proclaimed.
“The other…” Adam looked over his shoulder at his supposed “other” side.
Now all eyes moved to Warren.
“What are you talking about?” Jed shifted his weight to one stool away from his
regular spot at the counter.
Warren coughed. “I’m talking about the side of him we all see when he’s heading
out the door.”
Jed grunted to show his disbelief.
“Seems that’s what them Burdetts do the best, anyway. When things get tough they
turn tail and save themselves.”
“That’s not fair, Warren.” Josie came through the kitchen door wiping her hands
on her apron.
“Ain’t fair that after twenty years at the Crumble my wife now has to work all
hours catering to teenagers in a bowling alley in another town, either.”
“Have you ever stopped to think how much time each of the Burdetts has spent
trying to keep the business afloat?” she asked. Her gaze flicked up to meet
Adam’s, then just as quickly she looked away.
“Afloat? That explains a lot.” Jed snorted and retook his regular seat. “We
thought they was making snack food, they thought they was building bass boats!”
“Hey, hey! Paychecks from that factory paid for most of the bass boats sitting
in driveways around this town. They didn’t plan for things to go sour out
there.” Josie threw the towel down.
“Maybe they should have.” Warren swiveled around to look at Adam head-on at
last. “Sour snacks were a big trend for a time. Maybe if the Burdetts had just
once considered adding to the line of products…”
“Well, I have heard of backseat drivers and armchair quarterbacks, Warren, but
never diner-stool business-men. You haven’t even taken into account—”
“No, Josie, don’t feel you have to defend us.” Adam held his hand up. “I agree
with the man. The Burdetts could have done better by this community.”
Adam could have gone on about how he felt the Burdetts had treated him
personally or taken this opportunity to tell the townspeople about his hopes for
turning things around. But since he could not, in his own heart, untangle the
two, he did not trust his motives for saying anything.
Funny, a few days ago, before meeting Josie and seeing the way she tried so
earnestly to live her faith, Adam would never have questioned that. He’d have
spoken his mind, no matter who it hurt or why he said it. “I guess if that means
y’all would rather not have me around while you have your breakfast, I’d
understand.”
“Naw. I’ve had to stomach Jed’s ugly mug all these years.” Warren jerked his
thumb toward his old friend. “I can stand a Burdett for a few minutes, I
reckon.”
“That’s his indirect way of saying he appreciates your honesty,” Jed translated.
“Thank you very much.” Adam gave a nod, then launched into his song again.
“I appreciate your honesty, pal, but not your singing,” Warren tacked on good
and loud.
Everyone laughed.
Josie put her hands over her ears. “Would you stop making all that racket?”
She caught his eye and smiled.
He did not know if the redness of her cheeks came from their gazes meeting or
from the heat of her defending his family name or from her work in the kitchen
where she had just been baking. She cocked her head, and her topknot of curls
wobbled. She batted away a loose strand of hair and left a smudge of flour on
her nose.
Adam had never seen a more beautiful woman in his life.
She stooped to pick up Nathan and settled the fat baby on her hip.
No, Adam amended his original conclusion, now she was the most beautiful woman
he’d ever seen.
“Assistant pie chef reporting for duty.” Adam gave her a snappy salute.
“You?” Jed scoffed.
“Yeah. Me.” He lowered his hand slowly.
“But this is baking.” Josie waved her hand, scattering a fine puff of flour
through the air. “It’s not something I associate with a Harley-riding bad-boy
type.”
“Bad boy?” On one hand he wanted to point out neither adjective fit him. On the
other, he found it kind of cool that she saw him that way. Women loved bad boys,
right? “Does that mean you want to tame me?”
“Hmmm.” She put her hand on her hip and cocked her head. Her curls bounced
against her head. “Maybe if you traded that motorcycle in for a minivan.”
“Hold the phone, Sweetie Pie. What goes on here?” Jed swiveled around on his
stool. “Most women wait until they’ve got a fellow’s ring on their finger before
they go trying to change him.”
Minivan?
Ring?
Whoa!
He’d come back to Mt. Knott to claim his kid and show his detractors exactly
what he was capable of—succeeding where they had failed. Not to go the
home-and-hearth route with…
Adam looked to the woman setting his son down. Yeah, he had wanted to show
everyone just what he was capable of. Why did he suddenly think he might be
capable of so much more than he himself had ever suspected?
“I grew up in a food-prep industry.” He approached the counter, spotted Nathan
standing in his playpen, bent down and said to his son, “Explain to your mom,
please, that I can manage to turn out a few edible pies.”
“Edible? I hope my pies are a little better than just edible.”
“You notice they never touched the marriage and man-changing issue?” Warren
stroked his chin.
“Completely tap-danced all the way around it.” Jed waggled two downward-pointing
fingers to demonstrate the deftness of the pair’s maneuvering.
Adam held both hands up. “Hey, I came here and volunteered to handle freshly
baked pies, not hot potatoes.”
Warren laughed. “You’re all right, Burdett.”
Jed joined him. “He has our stamp of approval, Sweetie Pie.”
“Great. Then why don’t y’all stick that stamp on real tight, take him down to
the post office and see if you can send it off to parts unknown for a while.
Because nobody gets in my kitchen while I make pies.”
“She’s afraid you’ll learn her secret ingredient,” came the jovial voice of an
older woman at Adam’s back. The aroma of coffee curled up in the steam from her
mug.
“If I was her I’d be afraid he’d steal more than that,” a younger woman pouring
sweetener from a pink packet chimed in.
Josie’s face went a deeper shade of red.
Adam chuckled.
Neither of them denied her statement.
“I think we’d better add Josie’s name to the prayer list, then.” The older woman
clamped the lid down on her thermal cup and headed toward the wall.
Adam turned to look at the column on the blackboard wall. He opened his mouth to
make a joke. Then closed it, humbled, and simply read the requests in silence.
“Please, please, pray that my mom keeps her job. Kyle”
“Remember those who have lost health insurance, that we all stay well. Elvie”
“Please pray I find work.” That followed by not one but an entire list of names.
After so many selfish and anger-blinded years, the problems of the Burdetts and
Mt. Knott suddenly felt bigger than Adam’s pain. That was Josie’s doing, he
decided. No, that was so much bigger than Josie.
He scanned the list again, and found something that made his breath still.
“Please pray for Adam Burdett.” No signature.
Yes, he had felt lonely and rejected, ignored and unloved. Well, welcome to the
world. So many hearts bore those burdens and yet they stopped and took the time
to pray for others, to come together, to help each other.
“You don’t have to add our Sweetie Pie to any list,” Jed said softly. “She’s
always in our prayers.”
The rough older men narrowed their eyes at Adam.
He twisted around to meet their silent admonition with a somber look. He got it.
And he wanted them to know it.
Jed nodded in acknowledgment first.
Warren took longer but when he raised his cup to recognize the promise that had
passed between them, it warmed Adam to his gut.
Then Josie clapped her hands together. “All right. That’s enough of that.
Everyone fill your cups, add your sugar and cream and settle up your bills,
please. I’m ready to lock up for the rest of the day.”
“Which side of the door do you want me on when the lock slides into place?” Adam
asked quietly.
Josie frowned, well, as much as she ever frowned. It was more a cross between a
pout and a playfully sour face.
Adam grinned at her.
She sighed and shut her eyes.
He didn’t know if she was saying a prayer, gathering her strength to do what she
had to do or blocking him from view so she could think straight. Maybe all
three. But when she finally opened her eyes again, she was smiling.
“I want you on this side.” She pointed to the spot beside her.
“Fantastic! Get me an apron and call me the Mt. Knott doughboy!”
“Oh, you can have an apron but you aren’t getting anywhere near my dough.”
Josie hit a button on the cash register, and the drawer popped open with a ding!
“So what job do you have in mind for me? Cherry picker? Apple slicer? Peach
peeler?’
“I was thinking more gopher.”
“I know this is the South but I don’t think even here that anyone will want
gopher pie.”
“The gopher won’t be in the pie—the gopher will be in your apron.”
“Won’t that make it more difficult for me to get any work done?”
“Going for things that I need will be your job. That and watching Nathan.”
“Never thought I’d see the day,” Jed laid down his payment plus a little extra.
He made a sign to Josie to indicate she should keep the change. “Nope. Never
thought I’d see the day when a Burdett would do the bidding and get ordered
around by one of their own laid-off workers.”
“Sorta gets a guy right here.” Warren pounded his chest as he headed out onto
the street.
“So does indigestion,” Adam called as he held the door open for the departing
customers.
“Yeah. But there’s a tonic for indigestion,” Warren said. “For what you’ve got,
son…?”
He and Jed both shook their heads.
“…ain’t no remedy on Earth for that,” Jed concluded. “Nothing to take for it.”
“Oh, I don’t know. He could try taking some vows.” Warren laughed.
Adam gulped. Vows? He cared about Josie, even having only recently gotten to
know her. But vows? “Look, I admire Josie’s pluck and appreciate the job she’s
done with Nathan, but…”
“Don’t underestimate what it means to find a woman who is a good mother to your
child.”
“And your child ain’t actually her child.”
“It don’t hurt when she’s prettier than a speckled pup.”
“And cooks better than your own mama.”
“Josie’s a good woman.”
“And we expect you to be good to her.”
“I will. But I’m not ready for marriage.”
“Apparently you wasn’t ready to be a daddy, neither, but here you are.”
“Here I am.”
“Maybe you ought to take a good long look at yourself before you settle your
mind on what you are and are not ready for.”
Adam turned and looked at himself reflected in the glass door.
Apron.
Baby.
Giving up an entire day to spend time with a woman giving him orders and turning
up the heat and turning away his advances.
And he didn’t mind any of it.
Well, he would have liked it better if she’d let him kiss her. But he understood
and respected her choices.
That fact alone gave him pause. Maybe those older fellows had a point. Maybe he
did need to take a good long look at himself before he made up his mind about
himself and Josie.
Chapter Eleven
“Do me a favor?” Josie stepped to the doorway, the first of many freshly baked
pies in her silicon-mitted hand.
Adam looked up from a rousing round of a game that might be called “see Daddy
scramble after every toy Nathan throws on the floor” and made the bugeyed bear
in his hand squeal with one well-timed squeeze. “Anything.”
“First, stop chasing down everything he throws.”
“Just trying to make myself useful.”
“As what? A Labrador retriever?”
Adam looked at the bear then back at Josie. “Woof.”
She laughed. “You’re supposed to be the one in charge. Do you really think that
if you go after everything the instant he tosses it overboard you are teaching
him the way things work in the real world?”
“The real world?” Adam scowled. “He’s a baby. Why does he need to know about the
real world?”
“Because that’s the world we are all born into. We have so little time to get
his feet on the right path, with so many things trying to get him to stray…”
“What if straying comes naturally to him?” Adam flipped the bear over and over
in his hands.
Adam was testing her and she knew it. Just as Nathan might push something away
or even throw it aside.
“Straying comes naturally to all of us.” She glanced around her at the tables
and chairs that would, on a normal Friday, be just now filling up with the lunch
crowd.
She had served her friends, her fellow townspeople and strangers day in and day
out. She had sat next to many of these same people in town meetings and church
services. But here, where they had not always been on their best behavior, they
had taught her something more precious than any of them knew.
Her eyes went to the prayer list and she managed a slight smile. “Isn’t that why
Jesus is known as the Good Shepherd? We need Him to watch over us and bring us
back into the fold when we lose our way.”
“Why, Miss Josie, I didn’t expect a Sunday school lesson from you today.” His
mouth quirked up on one side, half in humor, half in challenge to her. Another
test.
Would she pass it? Would she stand up to him? And, more important, stand up for
her beliefs?
“Didn’t expect a lesson, but I notice you didn’t say you didn’t appreciate
getting one.”
“You are a wonder, Josie.” He laughed.
“Takes one to know one,” she joked.
“Me? A wonder?” He dropped the toy into the playpen with the baby, then took a
few steps toward the counter. “Only if by that you mean I wonder if I’ll ever
get the hang of this Daddy stuff.”
“I think you will.”
“Do ya?” he asked softly, his eyes dark and his smile a very masculine mix of
smug and wistful.
“Yeah, maybe by the time he goes off to college,” she teased.
Adam opened his mouth, probably to protest or to at least boldly proclaim his
belief in his own parenting abilities when Nathan let out a
“Ph-th-th-th-ppp-ttt” and sent the bear sailing right at the side of Adam’s
head.
The bear hit its mark then slid to the floor.
He gazed down at the thing then at the baby, who stood with his pudgy fingers
flexed and wriggling in the direction of the bear.
“Sorry, kiddo. Game over.”
Nathan grunted in anger and stretched up on his toes, his arms rigid and his
cheeks red.
Adam plopped the bear on the counter. “Next time maybe you’ll realize that if
you really want something you have to hang on to it. Don’t let it go. And
certainly don’t throw it away and assume you can have it back whenever you
want.”
Nathan shrieked.
Adam did not budge. “Listen to your ol’dad. This is a subject he knows something
about.”
Josie froze. What exactly had Adam thrown away, then wished he could get back
again? Not Nathan, as he had never known about the child. Ophelia? She held her
breath to think of it.
“Okay, got that.” Adam now turned his full attention on her. “What else can I do
for you? You just name it.”
Fall in love with me and become Nathan’s father in every sense of the word
forever and ever. She leaned against the door frame and sighed over her
indulgent little fantasy. Her and Adam and Nathan. Their own patchwork of a
family. Visiting with the other brothers and their families, if any of them ever
had any, on holidays. Watching Nathan grow and perhaps giving him a sister or
brother or both. Sharing a home and a future. Going to church together. Going
to…
The smell of pies ready to be taken from the oven brought her back to reality.
“Um, if you don’t mind, would you taste this pie?”
“I don’t mind. But I have tasted your pie before. It’s delicious.”
“When I bake a few at a time, it’s delicious. But trying to make enough for this
barbecue? I’ve never tried to mix up that much pie crust before. I’m not sure I
got the right ratio of flour to—”
“Yes?” He arched an eyebrow.
“Oh, no. You are not getting my secret recipe out of me that easily.” She slid
the pie pan onto the counter, then turned around to retrieve a knife and a pie
server. “Not unless you can figure it out for yourself.”
“If I do—” he sat himself at the counter and picked up a fork “—will you finally
tell me your secret, Josie?”
“I’ll tell you mine if you’ll tell me yours.” It came out before she could stop
herself. And then she was glad she had not stopped herself. Because of all the
things she wanted from Adam, knowing his secrets, knowing the undeniable truths
upon which he based his decisions was right up there.
“Let me have a taste of that pie.” He did not promise to share anything with
her.
She slid the stainless steel server in under the crust of the small triangular
piece she had cut from the whole. Slowly she lifted it up, then lowered it
slowly, then lifted it again. It had the right heft.
She closed one eye and peered at it with the other eye narrowed as if scanning
the thing with a laser beam. It had the right look.
She closed both eyes now, pulled back her shoulders and inhaled. It had the
right aroma.
The top and bottom crust broke into delicate flakes just as they should. The
filling clung to the chunky upper crust that was her trademark, in the way it
always did, with the fruit still firm and plump, not watery or crushed under the
weight of the top. Still, Josie would not be satisfied that she had done her
best until she heard it from someone whose opinion mattered to her.
That thought made her take a sharp right turn with the pie plate still in hand.
“Here, Nathan, you take the first bite.”
“Hey! What about me?”
“This is your chance to show your son how to practice patience by example,” she
returned, aiming to appear witty when, in fact, she was terrified.
She was a mother. A mother who had lived the past year in fear that at any
moment her child could be taken from her. Now, just when it seemed she could put
that fear behind her and move on to build a life for herself and her child, this
man comes along. Yes, Nathan’s father, but also a virtual stranger to Josie. A
stranger, by his own admission, with a secret.
She could not afford to take that lightly. Nor could she allow her own feelings
alone to dictate her actions. She had to get her priorities right and keep them
right. No matter how she felt about this man, she was first and foremost
Nathan’s mother.
She pinched off a bite just right for a one-year-old and poked it into Nathan’s
mouth.
He worked it around with his tongue more than with his tiny front teeth. Some of
the red dribbled onto his chin, and he rubbed his fist over it and began to gnaw
at his balled-up fingers. “Mmmm-nnnnmmmm-nop-nah-nnop.”
“Does that mean he likes it or not?” Adam moved in close behind her and then
leaned forward to peer at the child, bringing him closer still.
“I don’t know,” she confessed, her eyes glued on the boy’s reaction in a
gargantuan effort not to sense how close Adam was standing. Not to smell the
still-fresh line-dried scent of his apron or hear the jingle of his change and
keys when he put his hand in his pocket.
“Ya-ya-ya!” Another shriek, then Nathan went on tiptoe and stretched his arms
out for the plate in Josie’s hand.
“I think he likes it.” Adam laughed
Josie laughed, too, and offered her son another infant-size piece on her finger.
“I think he does.”
“Now how about you let me have a taste and see what I do?”
She spun around, the pie filling still clinging to her hand and found herself
nose to nose with the man. “A…a taste?”
“Of pie.” He slipped the plate away, moved to the counter and found the fork he
had left lying there. “Don’t worry, Josie. I won’t press you for anything you’re
not ready to share. Not your secrets. Not your kisses. And most especially not
your—”
Beep. Beep. Beep.
“What’s that?”
“Bingo!”
“I didn’t even know we were playing.”
“Not the game, the mailman.”
“We have a beeping mailman?”
“He has a little horn on his scooter to warn people to clear the path or let
them know he’s making a delivery. He has bad knees.”
“When did Mt. Knott get a beeping mailman?”
“He’s always been the mailman in this part of town as far as I know.” She
hurried across the room. “I can’t believe you don’t at least know about him. He
certainly knows plenty about you.”
“He does?”
Josie winced. She probably shouldn’t have reminded him of how she had gotten
people talking about Adam right after he came to town, which probably was how
his father found out about Nathan, which led to the barbecue that Adam did not
want to attend, which—
“So, who else have you talked to about me besides the bad-kneed beeper?”
“Bad-kneed beeper.” Josie laughed. “I’ll have to tell him that.”
“Josie?”
She twisted the lock and pulled open the front door.
“Wouldn’t have bothered you. I know you had big plans for today.” Bingo eyed
Adam.
Adam eyed him right back.
“But this looked important. Didn’t want to take a chance of you not seeing it.”
“He reads the mail?” Adam moved through the dining room in a few long strides.
“You read her mail?”
“Just what’s on the outside.” The big man looked hurt and just a wee bit
defensive. “Gotta read what’s on the outside or else I wouldn’t know what to
deliver to where.”
“Yeah, he’s gotta read what’s on the—” Josie turned the letter over and what was
on the outside of the envelope hit her like a slap in the face. “It’s the letter
I sent to Ophelia to thank her for signing the papers to allow Nathan’s
adoption.” Josie’s hand trembled. “Marked ‘Return to Sender.’”
“Really? I didn’t know people actually did that.” Adam moved in behind her, his
hand out, but he did not try to take the envelope from her.
“Oh, yeah. All the time. Or they put ‘not at the address.’ The real creative
ones sometimes send their own messages. Don’t think I can say what they write on
the envelopes, not in front of Josie.” Bingo reached into his bag then and
retrieved a stack of bills and advertising flyers. He thrust them toward her.
“All means the same, the person on the address didn’t get the mail.”
She ignored the other mail and rubbed her fingertips over the blocky words
beside her delicate-scrolled lettering. “Doesn’t look like Ophelia’s
handwriting.”
Adam took the mail from Bingo, his eyes always trained on her. “That good or
bad?”
“Well, if it were in her own hand, I’d know she was there and just didn’t, for
whatever reason, want to hear from me.” She looked up and blinked, half
expecting tears to flood over her eyelashes, but they did not come.
“Family can be tough on each other.” Adam brushed his hand over her shoulder.
“Some more than others,” Bingo observed.
Adam smacked the mail in one hand against his open palm. “Don’t you have mail to
deliver?”
“Miss Josie?” Bingo looked to her to send him on his way.
She nodded.
“Now don’t go fretting too much about that. Could be any number of things behind
it, not all bad.” He limped out the door, got onto his red scooter and gave a
beep goodbye.
“You think that’s true?” she asked Adam as they walked back to the counter.
“That there are a lot of reasons mail gets returned and it doesn’t mean that
something bad has happened?”
“What do you think?”
“I think this means that Ophelia isn’t at this address anymore.”
“Then where is she?”
Where indeed? You have a baby with her, why don’t you know? Josie pressed her
lips together to keep her questions and quasi-accusations from exploding into
the open. She rubbed the space between her eyebrows. At last she fought to keep
from bursting into tears.
“Maybe you can contact your mother. She might know how to find Ophelia.”
“She might. But in order to ask her, I’d have to first know where my mother is.”
That did it. The tears flowed, though less like a dam bursting and more in
sobbing fits and starts.
Adam slapped the mail down and came to her. He started to touch her arms, then
thought better of it. He tried to put his arm around her shoulders, but their
shaking made that difficult. Finally he crooked one finger under her chin and
lifted her face so he could look her in the eye as he said, “I don’t
understand.”
“I haven’t seen my mother since my grandmother’s funeral.” And at the mention of
that, Josie felt completely and utterly alone all over again, just as she had
the day of that funeral when her mother had driven off with her grandmother’s
car loaded down with anything of value from the house she and Josie had shared.
“I spoke to her a time or two, but she called me. I don’t have a number to call
her. She stays on the move most of the time.”
“On the move?” He dropped his hand and reached out to get a napkin from the
dispenser on the counter. He handed it to her.
“Not running from the law or anything like that. At least not that I know of.”
She wiped her eyes, blew her nose, then grimaced. “Seems like Nathan might come
by that tendency to stray from both sides of the family. You can’t be too
shocked by that, I mean, you and Ophelia…”
“I know.” He hung his head. “I have no excuse for my behavior, Josie. I was hurt
and angry and acting like a…a—”
“Like a toddler trying to get the people around him to stop everything and do
his bidding?”
Adam chuckled softly at his own expense, then his expression went somber. He
shook his head. “It was wrong. I was wrong. Doubly so to involve your sister. I
didn’t care that what we were doing would take its toll on her, the drinking,
the carelessness of that temporary…relationship.”
He struggled to get the words out without offending her, without embarrassing
her.
For that Josie was grateful. And she showed it by trying to lift some of Adam’s
guilt. “You can’t blame yourself for my sister. She was…careless and prone to
the temporary for a long time before she met you.”
“I know.” He nodded. “She has her own pain. Her own deep-seated fears. Her own
longing to make the people she loves notice her, to love her in return.”
“Ophelia?” Josie had never thought of her sister that way.
Willful. Selfish. Haughty. Wild.
All of those things she had ascribed to the woman who shared her physical
attributes but none of her spiritual convictions. But hurting? Fearful? Longing
to be loved?
Josie had thought she alone had those feelings, that she alone deserved them.
Had she really misjudged Ophelia so harshly?
The very notion rattled her to the core of her being.
“I never thought of her in that way. To me she was always Ophelia, the inspired.
Ophelia, the nonconformist. Ophelia, Mom’s favorite.”
“Favorite?” Adam’s whole expression clouded. “Burke said that about me today.
Called me the favored son because I came back and because I gave my father a
grandchild. But if you ask me there is no reason to favor me. I’ve handled so
many things so poorly. The fact that Nathan is here and healthy, that’s all you,
Josie.”
“Not all me,” she spoke deliberately as the full measure of what her sister had
done dawned on her. “Ophelia had Nathan. She carried him and chose not just to
give him life but to give him a chance by bringing him to me and letting me care
for him, be his mother.”
“She knew you could do it.”
Josie shook her head in awe. “That was a selfless act of pure faith, Adam. I
never saw it until now. I never saw the real Ophelia until you showed her to me
today.”
“Me? I can barely see beyond the tip of my own nose, Josie.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“How could you not? The whole time I’ve been in Mt. Knott I never once tried to
find out about you and your family, just whined about my own.”
“You’ve been so focused on your own issues…and rightly so. I’m nothing to you…”
“That’s not true—about you being nothing to me, not about me being focused on my
own issues. That, I hate to admit, is completely true.” He took her by the arms
and pulled her around so that he could look her in the eyes. “But I’m here now
and I’m not going anywhere.”
“Actually, I think you should.”
“What?”
“Go,” she said.
“But I—”
“Please, Adam. Just give me some time to myself. I have a lot to think about and
a lot to do.”
“I wanted to help you.”
“If you want to help me, then pray for me.”
“Okay.”
“And for Nathan,” she called as she watched him make his way to the door.
“Of course.”
“And…” She folded her hands together, knowing she had to say one more thing and
yet selfishly wishing she could just leave things as they were. To ask Adam to
make his priorities that simple, her and Nathan.
But now she knew there was another person out there who needed God’s love and
compassion. And nothing would ever be right in their family until they faced
that. “And pray for Ophelia, too.”
Chapter Twelve
“You’re too young to know this, Nathan, but there is an old saying. ‘Today is
the first day of the rest of your life.’” Josie lifted the baby from his crib.
She’d gotten up early. Even after staying up late into the night baking, she’d
been too excited to sleep in. “This is not just the first day of the rest of my
life. Except for the day that I knew for sure that I was going to be your momma,
this is going to be the best day of the rest of my life.”
She’d made up her mind about that as she’d baked and prayed and baked and prayed
some more. The more she put her situation before the Lord—Ophelia, their mother,
her feelings for Adam—the more she had come to appreciate the promise of the
future. And that future started with this wonderful day.