Always For You (Always Love Book 1) (20 page)

Tim opened his mouth as though to protest and then shook his head. “Thank you for being so gracious, Maureen. I was going to say the same thing to you.” He looked over to where Smith was talking to Mason. “I have a feeling there’s more to the story between you and Smith. You know, he’s a decent guy. And he’s clearly into you. You should give him a shot.”

I closed my eyes. “I’ll take that under consideration, Tim. Thanks.”

“No problem. Well, see you around.” He hurried away to where Claire was waiting by the door, and I went over to the bar. Mason grinned at me.

“Seemed like an interesting evening at your table. I’m sorry I didn’t get over to say hello.”

“Oh, I’m just sure you are. Mason, pour me a shot of whiskey, please. Turns out Smith’s driving me home, so he can just cool his heels and wait while I get my drink on.”

Mason raised his eyebrows. “Absolutely. Smith, can I get you a soda? Designated driver drinks free.”

“Thanks, just some water, please.” He was quiet until Mason had poured my shot and moved down the bar. I picked up the whiskey, saluted him and downed it in one quick swallow.

“That’s what I admire about southern women. You can shoot whiskey like nobody’s business.”

“Hmmm.” I side-eyed him. “What was this all about tonight? Why did you bring Claire here, when you knew I’d be having dinner with Tim?”

He shrugged. “It occurred to me that they’d make a good match. Call it a sixth sense. So I asked if she wanted to grab a drink tonight. I wanted to make sure you let Tim go once and for all. I was kind of afraid you’d chicken out and keep dating him until the two of you were married with your two point five.”

I rolled my eyes. “Shut up, Smith. I’m not that much of a pushover.”

“Oh, Reenie, you’re not a pushover at all. Not when it comes to work or your family or being a smartass. You’re sassy in spades. But when it comes to men? I’m thinking you could use a little push. A little more spunk. Somehow you seem to think you’re a runner-up. Like you’re only second-best.” He stood up from his stool and came to stand next to mine. His hand closed over my fingers, and he leaned close.

“The truth is, Reen, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen in my life, and you take my breath away more often than you know. In my eyes, you’d never be second-best. At anything.” He ran one teasing finger down the side of my cheek. “And honey, when it comes to spark, we’ve got a forest fire’s worth.”

My mouth had stopped working, and I couldn’t answer him. But it was all right, because he took my hand and tugged me off the stool. “Come on, let’s go home. Hey, Mason, put the whiskey on my tab. I’ll settle up later on. Have a good night.”

“H
OW’S JACK DOING?” I LEANED
into the exam room where Smith was checking the shepherd. “I still can’t believe he doesn’t have a chip or a name tag. Or that we haven’t heard from his owner already.” I came the rest of the way into the room and nuzzled the dog’s neck.

Jack turned and licked my cheek, making me giggle. Smith rolled his eyes. “Hey there, buddy. No fair making time with my girl, you hear?”

My insides went to goo. Something had shifted between Smith and me in the past few days. If he hadn’t been called out the other night to take care of this poor poisoned dog, I would have at last opened to him about how I felt. At least, I told myself that I would’ve done it. When he’d held my hand on the way home from the Garths’ farm, it’d felt like a sign. Coupling that with what he’d said before we’d gotten called to come for the foaling and then what had happened at the Road Block last night, and I was just about ready to believe that Smith might want more than friendship from me.

And just now—he’d called me his girl. Not long ago, I would’ve justified that by convincing myself that he was teasing, that his words didn’t mean a thing. Now I wasn’t so sure. Now, I was willing to believe that maybe we had a chance.

As if he felt the direction of my thoughts, Smith trailed his hand down my back, stopping at my hip. I stood very still, the heat of his hand branding me through my jeans.

“Want to tell me why we’re calling this dog Jack?”

“Sure. He needed a name. He’s a shepherd—an Australian shepherd—and that made me think of
Lost
. The plane was on the way to Los Angeles from Australia when it went down on the island, and Jack’s last name was Shepherd.” I shrugged. “It was kismet.”

Smith hooked his thumbs in the front pockets of his jeans. “Naming an animal usually indicates attachment. Do you have plans for our Jack, Reenie? Plans that might involve making him your new tenant, if he’s not claimed?”

I cocked my head. “Would that be a problem?”

“I don’t know.” He pretended to think about it, but I could see the twinkle in his eyes. “I don’t think there’s anything about pets in my lease.”

“Well . . .” I batted my eyelashes and smiled. “I’m sure I could find some way to bring you around to my way of thinking.”

Smith stared down at me and then shook his head. “Yeah, I bet you could. You’d get your own way and leave me begging for more persuasion.” He took a step closer to me. “Now would be a good time to—”

“Maureen.” Millie appeared in the doorway, ignoring Smith’s soft groan. “Mason just called. Rilla’s in labor.”

“Oh, my God.” I straightened. “Is she okay? Are they at the hospital yet? What do you need me to do?”

“They’re on the way. Piper’s with Mason’s mom, so I’m going over there to take her home with me. That is, if you don’t mind me leaving early.”

“Of course not. Go. This is a big deal.”

“It is, indeed. Mason asked if you might swing by his house, pick up his mom and take her to the hospital? She’d like to be there, and she’s not driving yet. Once I get Piper, she’s ready to go.”

“Sure.” I glanced at Smith. “You okay handling things on your own here for a while? I’ll get back as soon as I can.”

“I’m fine.” Smith drew me close and gave me another of those forehead kisses that he seemed so fond of recently. “Like you said, this is a big deal. Stay at the hospital as long as you need to. I’ll finish up hours here and then lock up. Don’t worry about a thing.”

“Thank you, Smith. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” I took a deep breath. “Okay, Millie. Let’s go.”

Within fifteen minutes, I’d picked up Mrs. Wallace and the two of us were going as fast as legally allowed in order to get to the regional hospital. Mason’s mom was a nervous wreck.

“Hospitals make me nervous, you know, and that’s where I had my procedure, too. My stem cell transplant. Oh, I hope everything goes all right. Mason was white as a ghost when Rilla’s water broke. I thought he might cry. You know . . .” She glanced sideways at me. “He’s been a mess this whole pregnancy. He’s scared to death that he’s going to lose Rilla, the way he did Lu.”

I let out a shuddering breath. “I can’t even imagine. After what he went through, taking a chance on love a second time—I don’t know if I could do it.”

“Oh, honey.” Mrs. Wallace patted my arm. “You got to be brave. See, the thing is, love is always a risk. Nothing’s promised us in this life. Not even tomorrow. But love also makes us brave. It makes us hope. And it makes us believe that the impossible can come true, that no matter how bleak things look, there’s always hope.” She smiled. “Hope is a beautiful thing.”

Tears blurred my eyes. I knew that Mason’s mother had lost her husband, then her daughter-in-law, all before she herself was diagnosed with leukemia. Her treatment and subsequent remission hadn’t been an easy road. But if anyone could preach to me the power of love and hope, it was the woman in my passenger seat.

At the hospital, the two of us made our way over to the maternity wing. Ali and Meghan were sitting in the waiting room, and they jumped to their feet when they spotted us.

“Nothing yet, but Mason came out a few minutes ago to say Rilla was all settled in and handling it like a champ. He’ll let us know when there’s anything to report.”

Mrs. Wallace settled herself in a chair and took out her ereader. “First babies generally take a long time. Might as well get comfortable.”

I sat down between Ali and Meghan, glancing toward the door. “Maybe I should get back to the office. I left Smith alone there, since Millie’s taking care of Piper. And I don’t need to be here. I don’t want to get in the way. I’m not family or anything.”

Ali’s eyes narrowed. “Maureen Evans, what kind of nonsense is that? Of course, you’re not in the way. And you just keep that cute little ass planted right in that chair, because you’re staying. Rilla wants us all here. We’re her family. She asked if someone had called you.”

Warmth spread through my chest. “Really?”

Meghan squeezed my hand. “Yes, really. What’s wrong with you? Reenie, do you not understand how important you are to us? To all of us? You’re my best friend, you know. I’d crawl across broken glass for you.”

“I wouldn’t, because I’m a wimp, but I’d sweep up the broken glass so no one had to get hurt.” Ali slung an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. “You’ve been my best friend since I was fourteen. We may have had a little hiatus, but that doesn’t mean anything. Not anymore.”

“And Rilla’s our little sister. She needs us here, even if we’re just out here praying for her. Her grandmother’s not coming, not now, and it’ll take a miracle of God to get her father here. So we need to support her.”

The afternoon wore on. The sunlight that had been dappled across the far wall of the waiting room dimmed, and shadows chased each other as the sun set. Smith texted me that he had closed up the office and was at home. I texted back that there was no news yet.

We’d been there about three hours when Meghan stood up, stretching. “I don’t know about y’all, but I need a walk and some coffee. Can I get you anything?”

Mrs. Wallace nodded. “That would be lovely, Meghan. Cream, no sugar, please.”

I piped up next. “Milk and two sugars in mine, please.”

Ali shrugged. “No, thanks, I’m good.”

Meghan frowned at her. “Ali, seriously? No coffee for the woman who mainlines it at least four times a day? What’s the matter with you?”

She flipped the page of the magazine she was reading. “Nothing’s the matter with me. Just . . . off coffee, I guess.” Her lips twitched.

“You’re hiding something.” I studied her. “You’ve got a secret, and I can tell it’s killing you to keep it.” A sneaking suspicion began to take hold of me.

Ali took a deep breath. “Well . . . I wasn’t going to tell you all today, but since it’s come up, and I guess this is the appropriate place . . . I seem to be a little bit pregnant.”

I stood, my mouth gaping. “You are? Seriously?”

Ali laughed. “Yeah, seriously. Due in April. But you can’t tell anyone, because we haven’t even told your mom yet. Flynn wanted to wait until we got through the first trimester. Which is next week.”

Meghan was still standing there, unmoving. When Ali glanced her way uncertainly, she stretched her mouth into a smile and bent to hug her. “That’s wonderful, Ali. I’m so happy for you. I can’t believe I’m going to be an aunt, again!”

“Me, too.” I took my turn at a hug. “Does Bridge know?”

Ali nodded. “She was sworn to secrecy. Don’t think it’s been easy on her.”

Mrs. Wallace grinned broadly. “Well, today’s a day for good news, isn’t it? So happy for you, Ali.”

Meghan shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans.“So no coffee for Ali, but do you want water or anything?”

“That’d be great, Meg. Thanks.” Ali watched her sister-in-law walk out of the waiting room and down the hall. “God, I hated doing that.” She glanced at me. “I knew it was going to be hard on Meghan. She didn’t tell anyone—only Sam and I knew it—but she had a miscarriage in July. She barely knew she was pregnant, and then she lost the baby. And she’s been struggling, because they hadn’t planned to start a family so soon, so she’d been still getting used to the idea when—well, when it went away.”

I closed my eyes. “Poor Meghan.”

“Yeah. Listen, don’t tell her I told you. I don’t think she even told her own family. But I thought you should know why she seemed upset.”

Meghan seemed to have recovered by the time she returned with the coffee. We’d just about finished drinking it when Mason appeared in the doorway, face red, eyes wet and hair standing on end, as though he’d been running his hands through it.