Summer Rose (15 page)

“Well?” Rose repeated. “Drop what?”

Thinking quickly, Hunter shook his head and blurted, “Nothing. Ken and I were just reminiscing, and it was getting a bit emotional.”

“Yeah, emotional,” Ken added with a sly wink at Hunter.

Ken gripped Rose’s arm and guided her to a chaise lounge a few feet from the grill. He dropped onto the other one, leaned back, crossed his legs at the ankles and folded his hands over his stomach. “So, Rose, tell me how you met my handsome older brother.” He wiggled his eyebrows and grinned like a Cheshire cat.

Hunter glared at his brother and mouthed,
Let it go
. Ken ignored him.

“We met when I applied for the job as his receptionist.” Rose looked questioning from one brother to the other. Something was going on, but she had no idea what. And somehow, she felt it concerned her. Given the underlying innuendos in Ken’s question, Rose decided it would be safer to avoid the subject of her and Hunter.

Instead, she turned to Hunter. “So what did our illustrious mayor have to say after Rosebud gave him a run for his money?”

Hunter’s expression seemed to crumble, and she immediately regretted bringing up the subject of George Collins.

“Nothing good, I’m afraid.”

Ken sat straighter. “What’s that mean?”

Hunter flipped over the steaks and for a long moment, the sounds of sizzling meat filled the pregnant silence. Then he dropped the tongs on the shelf at the side of the grill and turned to them.

“He’s threatening to shut me down. Get rid of all the wild animals.”

“Is that all? How many times have we fielded that threat?” Rose said, trying to ease the lines of tension around Hunter’s mouth with flippancy.

A forced smile curved Hunter’s lips. “Too many to count.” Just as quickly, all humor vanished from his expression and the tension returned. “I always viewed them as idle threats. A cause for him to champion. Then lately, a way to keep Davy away from here. The problem is, he’s never been attacked by one of the animals before, and this time I think he’s going to carry through. This time he has facts to back his claims, and the entire town to bear witness that our animals are dangerous.”

Rose jumped to her feet. Fear, concern, anger and a million other emotions coursed through her. “Attacked? He’s calling what happened with Rosebud an attack? Good grief, she’s a baby.”

“’Fraid so.” Hunter went back to tending the steaks, defeat apparent in the slump of his shoulders.

“Why would he do such a thing?” Ken asked.

“Because he has some wild idea that a baby lion that’s barely old enough to eat on its own is going to attack him while he sleeps.” She lowered her voice. “We should be so lucky.”

Ken’s eyes open wide. “What? That’s crazy. I didn’t see one animal today that looked dangerous to me. You can’t let him do this, Hunter.”

Hunter shrugged and said nothing.

He’s giving up. He’s going to let that blowhard win.

Anger at Hunter’s defeatist attitude and George’s ridiculous claims fused inside Rose. The survival skills that had been her salvation in all the foster homes she’d lived in flooded her. “We won’t let him. I won’t. These people know Rosebud is just a baby. He won’t be able to sway the town council with such flimsy evidence. Besides, they all saw it for themselves and everyone was laughing. If they’d felt he was in danger, someone other than a ten-year-old boy, who was probably more concerned about the pig than the man, would have come to his rescue.” She moved to Hunter’s side and laid her hand on his arm. “You can’t give up. These animals need you . . . you need them.”

“She’s right, you know,” Ken added. “You’re stronger than that. The Hunter I grew up with would not give in to this jerk.”

Hunter looked at them, his face drawn and troubled. “I may not have a choice.”

By the time the steaks and salad
had been eaten, the mood had lightened some. Hunter didn’t look as downtrodden as he had and was even able to smile from time to time at Ken’s memories of a mischievous childhood. Rose sipped on a bottle of spring water, while the men each indulged in another beer. A balmy breeze blew through the valley making the trees sway, and the sky had come alive with twinkling stars which were mirrored in the abundance of fireflies glittering in the trees and bushes like Christmas twinkle lights.

Everything seemed so very peaceful, but close to the surface of her thoughts and, without a doubt, Hunter’s, was the very real possibility that George would make good his threat to close the refuge. By the time Ken excused himself and sauntered off to bed, the subject had ripened to be raised again.

“So, what do we do now?” The defeat in Hunter’s voice made Rose’s heart twist in her chest.

“We fight.”

He rose and walked to the edge of the lawn. “I’m not sure I have any fight left in me.”

Rose followed him. She turned him toward her and cupped his face in her palms. “Then use my fight. You can’t give in to him.” Then she wrapped her arms around him. “I won’t let you,” she whispered in his ear. “We’re in this together.”

His arms came around her and pulled her close. “Whatever I did that made the Fates decide that I deserved you, I’m everlastingly grateful. If only life could be as peaceful as it is at this moment . . . forever.”

The wistfulness in his voice brought burning tears to Rose’s eyes. There could never be a forever for them, not as long as Hunter didn’t want the responsibility of a family. She sniffled.

“Rose? Are you crying?” Hunter pushed her back and looked at her face. “What is it? Is it the problem with the animals?”

Darn! She hadn’t wanted him to see her tears. She wiped at them. “No.”

“What then? Tell me.” He led her back to the chaise lounge, guided her down in the seat, and then sat beside her, holding her hand.

Her mind whirled. She couldn’t very well tell him that she was crying because they could never have a relationship, so she grabbed at the first thing that entered her mind. “Davy is going to be crushed. If they take the other animals, they most certainly will take Sadie, too.”

Hunter nodded, but said nothing. Neither did she. What was there to say? His shoulders seemed to slump a bit more.

His defeat seeped into her. She could feel it sucking her down into a pit of hopeless depression. Her determination had started to give way to accepting their downfall, but she couldn’t allow that and fought her way back up to the top. The rock-hard, determined Rose emerged, angry about George’s shortsightedness and angry with Hunter for even thinking in terms of defeat before it happened.

The Rose that had survived her mother’s abandonment, foster homes, the death of her best friend and the knowledge that she would soon be the single mother of twins surfaced. If they stopped feeling sorry for themselves and put their heads together, they could beat George. She was sure of it.

Her back stiffened. She wiped at her cheeks. “Look at us. Are we two of the saddest sacks you’ve ever seen? What we need to be doing is getting together a plan to stop George, not sitting here bemoaning what
could
happen. We can do it if we do it together.”

Hunter smiled for perhaps the first time since Ken went to bed. “Together.” Then he kissed her cheek. “Is there anything that makes you cry uncle, Rose Hamilton?”

Yes,
she thought.
How to convince you that a family is not a burden but a joy.

The following morning,
much to Rose’s surprise, Granny Jo appeared in the office. She set a wicker basket of blueberry muffins on the counter.

“Granny Jo, Jake doesn’t have an appointment, so what brings you here?”

“I just felt like some girl talk, and since my Becky’s off at a meeting in Charleston with the Social Service people, and I have all these hot muffins to share with someone, I thought of you.” She patted the handle of the basket. “I hope you’ve got some coffee made to go with these muffins. I’ve only had one cup, and it takes at least three to get my motor running properly.” She grinned devilishly.

Rose jumped to her feet, her mouth already salivating from the smell of the muffins. “Hunter just drank the last of it before he left to make some house calls, but if you’ll have a seat, I’ll have some ready in just a shake.” She hurried into the backroom and made a fresh pot of decaf coffee, then returned to the reception area while it brewed. She took a seat in one of the molded plastic chairs. “It shouldn’t take long. Hope you don’t mind decaf.”

“Nope. Decaf’s fine. I suppose it’s better for a pregnant lady to drink decaf. In my day, it didn’t much matter what you drank.”

Rose barely heard any of the words that followed
pregnant lady
. “How . . .”

Granny laid her hand on Rose’s. “Did you really think I came here to eat muffins and drink coffee with you? Something told me yesterday that there’s a burden praying on your mind, and since you don’t know anyone in town, I thought you could use a friendly ear to lighten the load.” She sat back.

“But how did you know I’m pregnant?”

“Child, when you get to be my age, you can recognize the signs a mile off. Besides,” she waved a finger at Rose’s tummy, “you’re getting a bit . . . thick around the middle.”

Rose laid her hand on her stomach. She knew she’d put on a few pounds, but she really hadn’t thought she’d gained enough weight to show.

“Now, don’t you start fretting that Hunter will find out. Men just don’t notice things like that. Besides, it doesn’t show all that much.”

This was uncanny. “How did you know that I haven’t told Hunter?”

Granny Jo laughed. “I don’t have the sight, if that’s what you’re thinking. That was just a real good guess.” She paused for a moment. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

Wow! This lady was way too observant for Rose’s peace of mind. “I’m not—”

Before Rose could finish her denial, Granny waved her hand. “Save your breath. Any blind man can see the way you look at him, like he’s the one who hung the moon.” Then she frowned. “So why haven’t you told him about the baby?”

“Babies. I’m carrying twins.” Leaning back in the chair, Rose sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“Twins, huh? A double blessing.” Patting her hand, Granny smiled knowingly. “Well, complicated is a specialty of mine. You go get us some coffee, and then we’ll talk. Maybe I can help you untangle this mess.”

Feeling a little apprehensive about sharing her secret with anyone, Rose got the coffee and returned to the reception area a few moments later. She set the tray holding the coffee carafe, two mugs, a sugar bowl, and a pitcher of cream on the table between them and poured the coffee, then leaned back and began talking.

Rose hadn’t meant to tell Granny everything, but the whole story had suddenly come pouring out to this sweet lady with the compassionate face and knowing eyes. By the time they’d consumed half the basket of muffins and several cups of coffee, Granny Jo knew it all: Rose’s childhood betrayal by her mother and subsequent life in foster homes, her friendship with Beth, her agreement to carry the baby for Beth, Beth’s death and finally, what Hunter had confided in her about not wanting the responsibility of a family. The one thing she didn’t share was her doubts about her qualifications for motherhood.

To Rose’s surprise, Granny Jo laughed when she told her the last part about Hunter not wanting responsibility. “Men! They can’t see the path ahead of them because they’re too busy stepping over the rocks in their way.” Then she sobered. “As for not wanting responsibility . . . why, my Lord, child, the man must be blind. He’s got more responsibility right here taking care of these animals than any father I know.”