Accidentally Family (Pecan Valley 1)

If she fell apart now, people would read into it—and her little sister was reminding her of that. More drama should be avoided at all costs. Especially for the kids. “Will do.”

After another hour of playing the perfect hostess, she glanced across the room to see Nick creeping up the stairs as slowly as he could, taking care to dodge the squeaking board, before disappearing from sight. Good. He had the right to some time to himself. After today, this week, t

hey all did. Not too much, not enough to get lost in grief, but just enough.

Gauging that might be a problem.

Not five minutes later, Honor was making her way up the stairs, offering a small wave before making her escape.

“Excuse us, won’t you?” Her mother led her from a group of nurses who had worked with Matt to a small tribe of hat-wearing women that Felicity knew well. “Gram’s widows’ group is here. Come say hello. They brought pecan sticky rolls.”

Felicity accepted hugs and lipstick kisses on the cheek. These women had been a part of her life since before she could remember, and she was thankful for their presence here today. Not only did the widows’ group have stories and “tidbits” to share about everyone in the room—they had strong opinions on who should be doing what and why. It was expected and oddly comforting.

“Felicity, honey, we stopped by to see your grams at the hospital before we came, and we have an idea,” Widow Rainey said, taking her hands. “There’s not a lot to occupy a bunch of old biddies like us—”

“Except doctor’s appointments,” another widow said.

“And bingo,” another added, her gigantic black and tulle hat resting at an impressive angle on her head. “Can’t give up bingo.”

“Fine, fine,” Widow Rainey continued. “What I’m trying to say is, we’d like to help you out with little Jack. We can all take turns watching him while he’s sleeping. That way you’re not chained to that hospital. You’ve got family that need you and a life to live. We don’t mind waiting.”

“You hear that, Felicity?” Charity gushed, joining in. “I’m not the only one worrying over you. I was saying the same thing to her.”

Widow Rainey nodded. “I know you don’t like to burden others, Felicity. And we all admire how well you’ve handled things, but I don’t know of a soul in Pecan Valley who wouldn’t offer up a little time to watch over that baby and take a bit off your plate.”

Felicity’s eyes burned, badly. And her hands, still clasped in Widow Rainey’s hands, were trembling ever so slightly. “I don’t want to impose—”

“It’s no imposition, honey,” one of the women said.

“Not at all,” the jaunty-hat woman continued.

“Wouldn’t have offered if it was,” Widow Rainey finished. “We’ll start tomorrow. Here’s what we’ve worked out. But you just let us know if you need something else.”

Felicity took the graph paper, lined and labeled with a flowing, tidy script. In the margin, each of the ladies’ names and phone numbers was listed. “I…I can’t thank you enough.”

“Well, then, that’s that,” Widow Rainey said, releasing her hands and turning to look at Charity. “I hear tell you got an escort to the hospital by Pecan Valley’s sheriff, Braden Martinez. Not here a few hours and you’re already causing trouble.” She chuckled. “I see Braden’s here, Felicity. Isn’t that nice?”

The question startled her. But then, conversation with Widow Rainey was always a little dizzying. “Yes…” Felicity managed, her gaze finding the man in question.

“When did he get so hot?” Charity whispered for her ears only. “He sure didn’t look like that in high school.”

Felicity swallowed a laugh. Braden Martinez had always been devilishly good-looking. Charity had been too focused on getting out of Pecan Valley to notice anything good about her hometown. But Sheriff Martinez appeared to be just as smitten with her sister as he’d been back then, his heavy-lidded eyes returning to Charity again and again. Poor Braden. Her little sister was more heartbreaker than homemaker—it was who she was.

“Your mother says most of Pecan Valley’s dropped by to show their respect. Your family is loved, Felicity.” One of the widows patted her arm. In seconds, the widows went back to spilling all of the secrets of Pecan Valley.

She kept her smile in place, appreciating the support but ready for a little less community love. Right now, she wanted to follow her kids upstairs and—maybe—have a nap.

…

Honor sat in the large, wingback chair before the picture window. Before Granddad and Mimi had moved to the cottage, this had been their room. The haunted room. That’s what she and Nickie called it. All dark wood, spooky corners, and thick, hide-behind curtains. Perfect for a ghost. Or monster. The sort of place they’d play rock-paper-scissors to avoid going to when Granddad or Mimi had asked them to get something. And, if they lost and had to go in there, they’d run as fast as they could—terrified something would jump out of the dark to get them.

But after the divorce and they’d moved in, this had become Mom’s room. She and Nick had both supported their mother’s plans to gut it. Now it was all whitewashed wood; frilly linens; open space; cream, lavender, and cornflower accents; and an old crystal chandelier. The three of them spent hours together here, sprawled across the floor for homework or piled up on her bed to watch movies or talk. It had become a special place for them all. So, it made sense she and Nick were here, seeking escape from the craziness downstairs.

Nick sat on the foot of the bed, his shoes kicked off, shoveling a massive piece of chocolate cake into his mouth.

“Chew,” she murmured.

Nick shoved the remainder of the cake into his mouth.