Accidentally Family (Pecan Valley 1)

Honor glanced up at her. “Yes.”

Her mother relaxed then. “I know you’re an adult, Honor. I know you’re responsible and young and, apparently, in love. Just promise me you’ll be careful. Okay?” She touched her cheek.

Careful? Was she talking about sex? Sex? With Owen? Even if she did forget that this was all a big cover-up for Nick’s stupidity, which she wouldn’t, there was no way she’d ever contemplate sex with Owen.

All right, fine. Maybe. But she barely considered herself a decent kisser at this point. It wasn’t like she’d had a ton of experience. But Owen? He was probably a pro at kissing. Probably sex, too. Not that she’d ever know—or that she wanted to know. She didn’t. At least, she didn’t think so.

Chapter Seven

Charity sat beside Jack’s hospital bed, doing her best to finish reading the storybook without getting hit in the face with whatever projectile the toddler was heaving at her. Good thing he was too little to have good aim.

“Good one,” she said, leaning to dodge an empty juice box. “Your dad was backup, backup quarterback, I think. That’s a nice way of saying he was a benchwarmer.” She tried smiling at the red-faced toddler. “I liked him. Then. He always liked me.”

Jack didn’t look like he believed her. Or like he cared. He stretched and flailed but when he couldn’t reach another missile from his bedside table, he burst into tears. Even with her limited knowledge of babies and toddlers, she knew a tantrum when she saw one.

“I know the feeling,” Charity said, setting the board book on the bed and standing. Should she comfort him? Talk to him? Run from the room? Honestly, the last option was the most appealing. “Grams is coming, okay, little dude. I get it. You don’t want me here.”

Felicity had received a surprise call from Matt’s lawyer and, since Grams was running late, she’d been forced to sit with baby Jack. She was pretty sure the kid hated her. He was staring at her, white-blond curls standing on end, flushed cheeks and quivering lips. Poor little guy was pathetic.

“Come on, Jack. I’m really not that bad, I promise.” She smiled.

He threw the board book at her.

“What’s all the racket about?” Grams asked, waddling into the room with her massive knitting basket hooked onto her arm. “You torturing the boy or what?”

Charity smiled down at her grandmother. At eighty-one, the woman was just as feisty and active as women half her age. “You know me.”

“I know you’ve never been fond of children,” Grams answered, reaching up to pat her cheek. “Which is why I’ve given up hoping you’ll provide me any great-grandkids. Guess I’ll have to count on your brother for a good half dozen—to make up the difference.”

Charity swallowed. Oh, Grams, you have no idea. “Think Zach is a little busy saving the world right now, Grams.”

“He’ll come home eventually. I told him to get a move on. I’m not going to live forever,” Grams argued.

“Yes, you will,” she sassed right back. “Jack’s in a bad mood. Maybe it’s just me. But the nurse is bringing him some applesauce and Jell-O.” She tried to mimic the singsong voice she’d heard both Felicity and Ho

nor use. “Yum-yum.”

Jack peeked through his fingers at her.

“And it’s not that I don’t like kids,” Charity argued. “They don’t like me.” Which was true. Even Nick and Honor had been wary of her when they were really little. But then, she’d been wary of them. Once they were walking and talking, it was cake. Which meant the baby growing in her stomach was in serious trouble for the first two or three years of life.

“Charity?” Grams was looking at her, waiting.

“What?” she asked. “Sorry.”

“I’m the one hard of hearing, girlie.” Grams paused. “I asked if you’d gone to see Maudie at the travel agency. You know, to get a job. I bet she’ll sell you her business, too. She’s been wanting to retire for years.”

“Why hasn’t she?” Charity asked. “Who even uses a travel agent anymore?”

“Not everyone likes putting their financial information into those dang computers, Charity Ann.” Grams was incredulous. “All those hack-men out there, stealing your identity and crashing your credit goals. I travel all the time, and Maudie O’Meara is the only person I trust to make sure I’m safe and taken care of.”

Charity couldn’t stop smiling at her grandmother. She was a piece of work. Exactly the way she wanted to be when she was eighty-one years old. “I love you, Grams, you know that?”

“What’s not to love?” she asked, grinning up at her. “But don’t change the subject. If you’re staying put, and I hear you’re thinking about staying put for a while, might as well make yourself useful—especially if you’re going to be another mouth for Felicity to feed.”

Charity paused then. Grams was right. She needed a job. Preferably one with benefits. Even though the idea of being caged behind a desk in a small office right off Pecan Valley’s quaint and cliché Old Town Square made her skin crawl, there weren’t a ton of options. It wasn’t just her anymore.

“Do you have Maudie’s number?” she asked.