“I know exactly what I’m proposing, Emma. I haven’t gotten to where I am in life by making foolish choices. Choosing you to be my wife, pretend or otherwise, may be a calculated risk, but it’s not remotely insane.”
Emma just shook her head and slowly walked around the car to the driver’s side, using the car as a support to lean on as she moved. She pulled open the door, then looked at him over the roof. “It’s a lovely summer afternoon, Mr. Montgomery. Take a walk in the park over there between the buildings. The flowers are beautiful this time of year. Or go across the street to the diner and tell Millie that you’d like a piece of her indescribably delicious blueberry pie. Tell her I sent you and that it’s on me, even. But please, please, give up this ridiculous plan of yours. I can’t be a part of it.”
“You refuse to be, you mean.”
“Is there any difference?” She squinted into the sunlight. “My integrity isn’t for sale.”
“If I thought it was, Emma, I wouldn’t have decided you were exactly the person I needed to help me.” He stepped closer to the car, pinning her with his intense gaze. “When I said I’d make it worth your while, I merely meant that I wouldn’t expect you to give up the next six weeks or so of your life without some recompense. I was thinking more on the order of covering your medical costs for the baby. Establishing a trust for Chandler’s future. Providing medical insurance for you and your son for the next several years, at least until you can obtain your music-education degree and become established in your career.”
Her lips parted. “How did you know—”
“I know a great deal.”
She closed her mouth. All a person had to do was go into the diner a few times and he could learn all the gossip he wanted about the waitresses and regular customers. Most everybody who went into the diner knew what her field of study was and how long she’d been inching toward her degree. She didn’t need to start conjuring up silly notions of investigations and dossiers. Just because that was what Jeremy’s family had—
She closed off the thought. She wanted to go home and get off her feet for a while, feed her son, hold him close and pretend that her body didn’t ache as if it had been twisted inside out.
“Goodbye, Mr. Montgomery. It’s been…interesting meeting you.” She slid into the car, catching her breath at the sharp “discomfort” of the sudden movement.
As she backed out of her parking spot and drove away, she could see Kyle in her rearview mirror. His hands were pushed in his pockets, his stance relaxed. The afternoon breeze ruffled his chestnut hair.
She pulled up at a stop sign, waiting for the traffic to clear, and looked over at her son. “That man is more trouble than anyone I’ve ever met.”
Chandler blinked his round eyes and sucked enthusiastically at his pacifier. Emma was certain he was agreeing with her.
Emma’s apartment was a simple studio over the detached garage behind a big old house owned by Penny Holloman. As soon as she pulled up beside the garage and climbed out of the car, she heard Penny call from the back porch. She watched as the older woman skipped down the porch steps and started across the expansive yard.
Emma smiled with real pleasure and waved at her landlady. She reached in and unstrapped Chandler from the carrier, deciding just to leave it where it was, and carefully lifted his warm little body out just as Penny reached her side.
“Oh, sweetie, he’s just a peach.” Penny brushed her hands down her colorful shirt before reaching out. “Let me take him. You must be exhausted. I swear, when I had Elliot, they kept me in the hospital for a week. Was I ever glad, let me tell you. The last thing I wanted to do was get back home and start cooking three meals a day when I was a nervous wreck about doing something wrong with a new baby.”
Emma’s arms felt empty when Penny took Chandler into her own. But the other woman was oohing and ahhing over him, obviously delighted to hold him. Emma collected the plastic bag and her case and drew in a breath as she faced the wooden steps leading up the side of the garage to her apartment.
“I just got home myself, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to meet you at the hospital,” Penny chattered on, taking Emma’s overnighter from her. “You shouldn’t be carrying that,” she chastised, heading up the stairs. “If I could have canceled my meeting, I would have. I feel terrible that you drove yourself home like this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Emma followed her landlady more slowly. Once she got Chandler fed and settled, she was definitely going to take a few of those extra-strength pain relievers her doctor had advised. “Megan agreed to, but I said no. We were fine.” She made it to the landing and pushed open the door, stopping short. “Oh, my!”
Penny laughed and rested her cheek on Chandler’s head. “Isn’t it fabulous? Why didn’t you tell me you’d met a man? Because I know for certain that good-for-nothing Jeremy St. James would never have been so extravagant.”
Emma cautiously stepped into her apartment. Glorious displays of summer flowers decorated every single surface. An enormous bouquet of yellow and white balloons hovered above her small round dining table. “I haven’t met a man,” she murmured faintly. Cheerful daisies graced the small table just inside the door and she touched one of the blooms. “Well, nobody except…No. He wouldn’t have. He couldn’t—”
“Who? Kyle Montgomery perhaps? He is a handsome one. And quite determined, too.”
Emma felt light-headed. She dumped the plastic bag on the floor and cautiously lowered herself to the couch. “Kyle…was here?”
“Earlier today.” Penny nodded. She flipped open a changing pad on top of the table and gently settled Chandler on top of it. In seconds she’d changed his diaper and carried him back to Emma. “There you go, sweetie. You feed him and I’ll get some lunch started for you.”
Emma had a lot of questions, but her son’s hunger was the primary need. She opened her blouse and situated her son in her arms. He latched on greedily and she chuckled and winced both at once. “Good thing you know what you’re doing there, pumpkin, ’cause if it was up to me, I’d still be fumbling around.”
Penny must have heard her, because she laughed lightly. “When Elliot was born, bottle feeding was the preferred choice. Herman was horrified when I insisted on nursing our baby.” She came back into the room, carrying a tray with a sandwich, a cup of soup and a tall glass of lemonade, which she set on the metal footlocker Emma used as a coffee table. She nudged it within reach of Emma, then pushed the footrest she’d given Emma for Christmas the year before next to the couch.
Emma lifted her feet onto it and let out a long relieved breath. But Penny wasn’t finished. Not until she’d taken Emma’s two bed pillows from the top shelf in the closet where they were kept during the day and propped them behind Emma’s neck and under her knees.
“There. That’s better, isn’t it?” Penny patted her hand and continued moving around the small apartment, unpacking the few items from Emma’s overnighter and adding the baby items from the plastic bag to the secondhand chest of drawers Emma had found. “Too bad your mother can’t be here to help you,” Penny said.
Emma shook her head. That was the last thing she needed. “Mama’s helping my sisters back home with the grandkids she already has.” She shifted against the pillows and sighed sleepily. “She doesn’t understand why I’m a single mother, anyway, so her helping would have been accompanied by a lot of lectures I don’t want to hear. Once a week is plenty for me.”
“The only one needing a good lecture is that pimple on the face of society who left you to fend for yourself.”
Emma managed to smile at the caustic description of Jeremy St. James.
“Fortunately I’m able to wholeheartedly say that I approve of your new choice,” Penny went on.
