Not Quite Married (7 page)

Dalton considered stepping in and arguing the point. But before he made up his mind whether to say anything, Clara started in with the introductions. Jody was the one with the flowers and Nell the one in the biker boots. Clara gave the two women Dalton’s full name, but no explanation as to what he was doing there.

“I whipped this up so you’d know how much we love you,” Jody said, looking proud, holding up the giant vase of flowers.

Clara gave her a beautiful misty-eyed smile. “It’s fabulous. Thanks, honey.” Jody went to put the flowers on the windowsill and Clara told Dalton, “Jody’s a genius florist. She owns Bloom, on Central Street.”

“They’re beautiful,” he said in the general direction of the flowers.

And then the stunner, Nell, popped in with “Hold it. Hold it right there!”

Jody blinked. “What?”

Nell turned on him and accused, “You’re
him
, right? You’re the father.”

Her candor startled him. But he pulled it together and tried to reply. “Yes, I—”

“Nice suit.” She cut him off with a sneer.

He decided to call that a compliment. “Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. Where the hell have you been?”

Jody groaned. “Nell, please...”

And Clara chuckled fondly. “Nellie. You never hold back.”

“I asked the man a question.” Nell braced her hands on her hips and scowled at him furiously.

He cleared his throat. “There was some confusion. It’s a long story.”

Nell whirled on Clara. “You just now
told
the guy?”

“Not
just
now.” At least Clara had the grace to look sheepish. “I told him a few weeks ago.”

“And he hasn’t shown up until today?”

“We’ve been...in touch. And, as Dalton said, it’s a long story.”

Nell made a snorting sound. “He shoulda been here long before now.”

“We’re, um, working it out, Nellie. I promise we are.”

Working it out? Not to
his
satisfaction, they weren’t. But that was going to change. He would make sure of it.

Nell whirled on him again. She was not only gorgeous, but she had a certain scary energy about her. She made a man feel that it would not be wise to get on her bad side. “But you’re here to do right now, aren’t you, Dalton Ames?”

At last, a question he could answer without hesitation. “Absolutely. I’m going to look after Clara, and I’m going to take care of my child.”

Clara started to speak—probably to insist as usual that she could look after herself.

But Nell beat her to it. “You’d
better
look after her,” she warned. “Clara’s tenderhearted. She’s not as tough as some of us in the family. But we all have her back. Including her five brothers—three half, two full. Bravo men all. Big men. Strong. Protective of their sisters. Not men you want to mess with, men who will—”

“Nell,” Clara cut in sweetly. “I think he knows where you’re going with this.”

Nell made a low noise in her throat. “We’ll see about that.”

Jody piped up with “Is there anything we can do, Clara, to help out?”

“Thanks. Just knowing I have so many people to count on helps a lot.”

“Anything,” said Nell as she pulled up the chair Dalton had been sitting in. There was one other chair, and Jody took that.

Dalton considered telling the two women that Clara needed her rest. But she
was
lying down and she seemed relaxed, so he didn’t interfere.

A few minutes later, another sister arrived, the full sister, Elise. She came with Tracy Winham, the one who’d been adopted into the Bravo family when her parents were killed. Dalton ducked out to get more chairs as Nell informed the newcomers that he was the father and had promised to do right by Clara and the baby.

When he returned, two of Clara’s brothers had arrived. They were big men, as Nell had warned him. But neither took a punch at him when they found out he was the father of Clara’s baby.

The women left after about half an hour, and the men went soon after. The princess arrived. She had brown hair and eyes, like Clara’s, and was almost as beautiful. She smiled and shook his hand and insisted that he must call her Rory.

Then she helped Clara wheel her IV drip into the bathroom. When they came out, Clara had changed into turquoise pajamas. She got back in the bed and Rory tossed the hated hospital gown into a laundry bin in the corner.

Two more men appeared, a full brother and a powerfully built half brother named Quinn, who had moved back to Justice Creek recently, having retired from a successful career as a mixed martial arts fighter. Quinn was a single father, Dalton learned, with a four-year-old daughter named Annabelle.

Quinn and the full brother, Jamie, didn’t stay long. Rory left shortly after them. Dalton was just daring to hope that Clara might let him turn off the light and shut the blinds so she could sleep for a while.

No such luck. In sailed a slim, sweet-looking, impeccably groomed white-haired lady who wore giant round-lensed glasses with yellow plastic frames, dangly earrings, a mink coat held together at the throat by a brooch the size of a tarantula, and pointy-toed red high-heeled shoes.

Clara introduced her as her great-aunt, Agnes Oldfield.

Nothing got by Agnes. “Ames?” she demanded. “Dalton Ames? As in the Ames banking family?”

He said that yes, he was president and CEO of Ames Bank and Trust.

It took her about two more seconds to deduce that he must be the missing father of Clara’s unborn child. “Where in the world have you been, young man? Your child will be arriving any minute now.”

“Well, I—”

“Aunt Agnes.” Clara came to his rescue. “Leave Dalton alone. He’s here to help out and he doesn’t need you picking on him.” He felt rather mollified at that. It was the first time she’d openly admitted that he was trying to take care of her.

Agnes wasn’t finished with him. “Of course I’m not picking on him. I’m just trying to find out where he’s been all these months and what his plans are now that he’s finally here.”

Clara said sternly, “That’s between Dalton and me.”

“But does he realize you almost
married
someone else?” Agnes’s rather protuberant eyes seemed to bulge even more behind those yellow-framed glasses.

“Yes,” Clara replied wearily. “He knows about Ryan. He knows all about the wedding.”

Agnes clucked her tongue. “I don’t understand you young people today. It’s important for a child to have both a mother
and
a father who are married to each other.
This
is the all-important nuclear family and it is the bedrock of our society, the bulwark of civilization, ordained by God Himself.”

“I completely agree, Agnes,” Dalton couldn’t resist putting in. “I’ve proposed. She turned me down.”

Clara piped up with “Dalton!”

“See?” And Agnes nodded approvingly in his direction. “This young man is not only from an excellent family. He knows what’s right. I simply can’t bear to
ask
why you’ve refused him.”

“Then don’t,” advised Clara hopefully.

Agnes barreled right on. “Of course, after the way your father behaved, I can see why you might be a bit confused as to your responsibilities as a parent, Clara.” The way her father behaved? Dalton made a mental note to find out more about that. Agnes kept on. “And I can’t imagine how difficult these past months must have been for you.”

“You’re overdramatizing, Aunt Agnes,” said Clara.

“No. No, I am not. I am sympathetic. I love you. I’m a traditionalist at heart, so I can’t say I approve of your becoming pregnant without being married first, but I—”

“Aunt Agnes, stop!”

Agnes put her wrinkled, perfectly manicured hand to her chest. “There is no need to shout.”

“Then listen to me. Are you listening?”

“Well, of course I am, dear.”

“I love you, Aunt Agnes, but I want you to stay out of it, please.”

“But I—”

“Please.”

Agnes sputtered a little more, but she did finally back off—which was too bad, really, as Agnes had been arguing his case for him. The old lady stayed for half an hour. She talked the whole time, gossiping about people he didn’t know and delivering several grim pronouncements concerning the frightening state of the world today.

Right after Agnes said goodbye, one of the nurses came in to check on Clara. Dalton left them alone.

When the nurse emerged from the room, she told him dinner would be served soon. Would he like a tray? He thanked her and said he would appreciate that and went back in with Clara.

He’d no sooner settled into the chair by the bed than yet another visitor appeared in the doorway. Tall and broad-shouldered with light brown hair, the guy was too damn good-looking. He carried a large stuffed teddy bear. In the teddy bear’s fist were three red satin ribbons attached to three big red, shiny heart-shaped balloons.

Dalton knew instantly who he was. He’d seen the pictures of him in that private investigator’s report back in December: Ryan McKellan, the one Clara had almost married.

“Ryan!” Clara cried his name with way too much delight. She held out her arms.

“Damn, Clara.” The guy went straight to her, dropped to the side of the bed, propped the teddy bear on the bed table and gathered her into his arms. “I just heard.”

“Thanks for coming,” She hugged him way closer than Dalton thought was appropriate and the guy hugged her right back. The hug went on for far too long.

Finally, Ryan pulled back and Clara settled onto the pillow again. He touched the side of her face, a gentle touch that made Dalton want to break something—preferably that too-handsome face. “Are you all right?”

She had her hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Did she really need to keep touching him that way? “Honestly, Rye,” she said. “It’s not a big deal. I’m fine...”

Dalton wasn’t letting that stand. “As a matter of fact, she fainted. She was dehydrated. And her doctor’s keeping her here overnight for observation.”

Ryan turned to look at him then. Frowning, he glanced at Clara.

Clara sighed, “Ryan, this is—”

“I’m Dalton Ames. The father of Clara’s baby.”

The other guy didn’t look happy. Not happy in the least.

Clara didn’t, either. Too damn bad. But then she said, “Dalton, will you leave us alone for a few minutes, please?”

It was the last thing he intended to do. “What for?”

The other guy tried to smooth things over. “Clara, it’s all right. We can talk later.” He started to rise.

But damned if she didn’t grab him back. “No. We’ll talk now.” She shot Dalton a look of mingled exasperation and defiance—a look that asked,
Now, don’t you feel guilty for being a complete ass
?

He didn’t feel guilty. Not in the least.

She said, “Dalton, will you please step out of the room—and close the door when you go?”

He stayed where was, though he knew he’d pushed the issue to the limit.

She asked him again. “Dalton. Please.”

He longed to simply tell her no, that he was going nowhere, not as long as this Ryan character was in her room.

But if he did that, it would cost him. He could see it in those big brown eyes of hers. If he didn’t do as she’d asked, she was way too likely to
tell
him to get out—and not come back.

So he rose without a word and left them, pausing only to swing the door shut in his wake.

Chapter Four

O
nce the door had shut behind Dalton, Clara took Ryan’s hand. “Thank you for the teddy bear...and the balloons. I love them.”

Ryan lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. She knew the guarded look on his face. He was hurt. “So. That’s him, huh? At last.” He pulled his hand from her grip.

She suppressed an unhappy sigh. “It’s him.”

“You finally told him.”

“That’s right. Ryan, I’m sor—”

“He gonna do right?”

Exasperation curled in her belly. “I really, really wish that everyone would stop asking that. What does it mean, anyway,
do right
?”

“You don’t know?”

“Of course I know.”

“Then why’d you ask?”

“Because I’m tired of hearing it. Because marriage is not necessarily the right way to go in a situation like this.”

Ryan made a face—one that meant he didn’t agree with her, but he wasn’t going to argue the point. “The kid needs a dad who’s around, a dad who’ll be there for her.”

“Judging by the way Dalton has behaved since I told him about the baby three weeks ago, I don’t think we need to worry about whether or not he’ll be around.”

Rye grunted. “Three weeks since you told him, huh?”

She waited until he met her eyes and then said softly, regretfully, “I should have talked to you, kept you up on what was going on, I know. I just...felt so tired. And I didn’t know where to begin.”

Another half shrug. “Where’s he from?”

“Denver. He’s a banker.”

Ryan chuckled dryly and shook his head. “He looks like a banker.”

She took his hand again. At least he let her keep it that time. And then she told him all the stuff she should have shared earlier, so he would have been prepared when he and Dalton finally came face-to-face. She went through the basics of what had happened on the island, and the misunderstandings that had kept Dalton from contacting her, and her from getting in touch with him.

At the end, Ryan said, “So he turned you down, on that island?”

“Yeah.”

“What an idiot.”

She squeezed his hand. “Spoken like the best friend any girl could ever have.”

“He messes you over again, he answers to me.”

“Rye, come on. He’s trying.”

“Trying isn’t enough.”

“Give the guy a break, huh?”

“He needs to know you’ve got people looking out for you.”

She blew out her cheeks with a hard breath. “Are you serious? The family was here. All my sisters, all but one of my brothers. Aunt Agnes. And Rory. And now you. Believe me, at this point he’s very well aware that there are people looking out for me.”

“Good,” he said. “As long as he knows.” He gazed at her for a long moment. “Is he staying the night here? Or do you need me to come get you in the morning?”