“But, yes, I will marry you.”
He knew she was accepting him for the baby’s sake. Yet, for a moment he felt a warm glow of happiness. Fool, he told himself. But knowing he was didn’t change a thing. He took her small hand and squeezed it, wanting to kiss her but not sure whether such a move would be appreciated. He was just stepping in close enough to make the kiss at least an option, when a voice startled him, startled them both.
“T.J.! Imagine running into you here.” It was Adrienne, with her husband and a pack of at least five children in tow. “Want to join us for a ham and cheese sandwich?”
CHAPTER SIX
“OH, HONEY. THIS IS A LOT to take in at once.” Heather’s mother shook the dirt off her hoe, then set it against the shed wall. She brushed off her hands, covered in gardening gloves, then settled them on her hips and examined her daughter’s expression carefully.
“I know.” Heather picked up the basket of tomatoes at her feet. Her parents ran a three-acre, U-pick garden just off the highway that connected Chatsworth to the larger center of Yorkton. In season they had strawberries, raspberries, saskatoons, tomatoes and corn.
“Let’s go have something to drink.” Marion Sweeney led her daughter along the cobblestone path to a gazebo Heather’s father had built just last summer. A pitcher of lemonade and melting ice cubes sat on the rattan table inside. She removed her gardening gloves, then poured two glasses and handed one to Heather.
“How are you feeling, honey?” Her gaze dropped to her daughter’s middle.
“Fine. Tired, I guess. But fine other than that.” She’d come by this morning with the excuse that she wanted tomatoes, but really to tell her mother her news when her father wasn’t around. Heather loved her father, but the lines of communication with her mother were much more open.
Her story had flooded out in a rush of words. The pregnancy, the engagement, the wedding which was to happen in two weeks, everything, in one breath.
“Sit down. Put your feet up.”
Heather did sit, but she kept her sandaled feet on the ground. “Really, I’m as healthy as can be, Mom.”
Her mother had dark hair and fair skin, which she protected with a combination of sunscreen and wide-brimmed hats. She removed the pretty straw one she was wearing today and set it on the floor next to a watering can.
“The fibroids…?” she asked.
“The doctor says they’re small enough at this point they shouldn’t cause a problem.”
“Thank goodness.”
“Yes.”
“What about later?”
“I’ll probably have to have a hysterectomy just like you did.”
After a brief pause, her mother reached across the table for her hand. “A baby. This is wonderful, Heather.”
“I know.” Her parents had suffered almost as much as she had when she’d made the decision to put her first baby up for adoption. When she’d married Nick, they’d been so excited by the prospect of more babies. But then Nick had died. By now her parents had probably given up on grandchildren. Among their contemporaries they were the only ones without even one. Now, finally, there would be a new child in the family.
And a new son-in-law, too.
“About T.J….” Marion’s warm gaze slipped a few degrees right of her daughter. “I didn’t realize the two of you were dating. You said that one dinner was just between friends?”
“We’ve known each other all our lives,” Heather pointed out.
“Yes.”
Her mother frowned, probably remembering all the times Heather had come home from school steaming mad at something awful T.J. had said or done. Her mom didn’t know that during the lonely term of her pregnancy in Saskatoon, T.J. had been her only friend. That was the one time in her life when she could remember him not being totally insufferable.
“I was hoping we could have the wedding here. If that’s okay with you and Dad.” Her mother’s rosebushes, bordering the gazebo, would make a perfect backdrop for wedding photos.
“Well, of course, honey.” Marion’s forehead wrinkled with concern. “You’re not rushing into this because of the baby are you?”
“Actually I am.” Heather couldn’t see any point in being deceptive. “But isn’t it a good reason? I’m going to have his baby. I’m thirty-five and so is he. Neither of us have any other prospects in our lives.”
“That sounds so…clinical.”
“Not clinical. Logical.”
“Oh, honey. I wish—” She picked up the glass of lemonade, took a small sip, then set the glass down again.
Heather rested her hands on her belly. She could hardly wait for the day when she would feel a mound beneath her palms and experience the subtle stirrings of a new life inside of her. In fact, she looked forward to every single aspect of pregnancy. She didn’t even care about labor pains or stretch marks. She wanted this child so very badly.
The sun was blazing again on this late summer afternoon. Heather could hear the buzzing of bees in the nearby flowers. A gentle breeze wafted the sweet scent of roses through the gazebo. The peaceful setting made her wish she could spend the afternoon resting in here.
But first she had to finish her conversation with her mother. She knew there was more to come. Her mother, always diplomatic, was merely weighing her words.
Finally she leaned forward in her chair. “I know you’re a grown woman, Heather, with a good mind and lots of common sense.”
She smiled, and Heather knew that her mother meant what she was saying. She knew that whatever mistakes she’d made in her life, her parents loved her. And were proud of her.
“But are you sure you’ve thought through this marriage idea?”
Heather leaned forward and folded her hands on the table. “Yes.”
Frown lines deepened the grooves on either side of her mother’s pretty mouth. “T. J. Collins is well educated, and financially secure. He’s a good-looking man, too, I can’t argue with that. But, I’ve heard some stories that aren’t very complimentary.”
Heather’s mother was well connected to the gossip sources in town—most of them members of the local bridge club. Marion, herself, was always careful what she passed on. When she’d been a child, Heather had often been frustrated that her mother was so close-mouthed. She had to go to school to hear all the rumors that the other children heard at home.
“You know those old biddies make up half the things they talk about.”
“Now, Heather. They exaggerate at times, I’ll agree. But I don’t believe they actually fabricate stories.”
“Well, what did they tell you about T.J.?”
Marion topped up both glasses of lemonade, clearly uncomfortable. “There are rumors about why he left Calgary to come back and run his father’s hardware.”
“He left because his marriage fell apart. His wife took their daughter and moved to Toronto.”
“Yes, that’s true. But some say there were problems with his business, too.”
“The law firm?”
Her mother nodded. “I heard T.J. embezzled funds from the practice and was asked to leave, on threat of disbarment.”
Rumors of murder couldn’t have seemed more outlandish to Heather. “No way,” she insisted.