“She is young and pretty.” Her mother smiled at them. “But something tells me her adventuring days are over and she’s home. Everything happens for a reason.” That smile made Charity nervous.
Her mother was right. There was definitely a reason she was back in Pecan Valley, but neither Graham nor Felicity would have ratted her out. In the beginning it had been this baby—and losing her job. Now she knew it was more than that.
Felicity needed her. Her sister had always believed in her, supporting her dreams even when they seemed impossible and illogical. Now it was her turn to be there for her sister—for Honor and Nick. She didn’t know how or what to do but, whatever it was, Charity would do her best to be there for them.
Chapter Thirteen
“Wine?” Felicity offered a nearly full extra-large wineglass.
Graham looked up from the crib he was assembling and took the glass. “Thanks.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” she said for the fiftieth time.
He nodded. “I know.”
She sat on the floor beside him, humming along to the radio broadcast—a tribute to Glenn Miller. Between the upbeat swing music and the sweet sangria they were sipping, her spirits were lifting. Her gaze wandered around the room. She and Graham had made a lot of progress this evening. Now that Jack’s toys and books had replaced her crafting bins and cabinet, the room looked like a nursery. A happy, cheerful nursery. With color. “Think he’ll like it?” she asked.
Graham leaned against the wall, his long legs stretched out in front of him and the crib instructions on the floor beside him. Those brown eyes surveyed the changes they’d made before he nodded. “I think so.” He glanced at her. “Eventually.”
“Meaning a nice room and familiar toys aren’t going to make tomorrow easy?” She nodded, slowly spinning her glass. “Yeah, I know. Not by a long shot.”
One brow rose and the corner of his mouth kicked up. “Maybe not in the beginning, but I have no doubt you’ll figure things out.”
“That makes one of us.” She lifted her glass in a mock toast. “What a day.” Her smile fell flat; she could tell by the look on his face. Right. Enough wallowing. “Have plans for tomorrow?” As soon as the question was out, she regretted it. He’d already done so much for her. Asking him to be there was too much.
“Tomorrow?” His confusion was almost comical. “I thought I’d lend a hand here with Jack, if that’s okay.” He sipped his wine.
“Okay? It’s more than okay.” Her laugh was nervous. “I feel pretty guilty asking.”
“You didn’t.” He turned back to the instructions. “I’m offering.”
And it was a huge relief. Like it or not, he had a calming effect that was missing in her boisterous, well-meaning family. Calm, right now, went a long way. “Well, I appreciate it. Having the backup, I mean.”
He nodded, setting his wineglass on a large farm animal picture book, and went back to screwing the side onto the crib. The old house creaked and popped, settling in the evening wind. That’s what old houses did. But tonight, with Nick at her parents’ cabin and Charity treating Honor and Diana to mani-pedis and a double feature at the newly restored drive-in movie theater, she realized this—quiet—would soon be a rarity. Toddlers, especially out-of-sorts, cast-ridden toddlers, were vocal. Every visit to the hospital was proof of that. She might as well enjoy this chance at peace and quiet—together.
“Okay. This should do it.” He stood, snapping in a plastic bracket and standing back to inspect his work. The screwdriver and wrench sticking out of his business dress pants had her smiling. “Done.”
“Thank you, Graham. And not just for the crib. For today, everything. All of it.”
Brown eyes met hers. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“I do,” she argued. “Nick wasn’t going to talk to any of us. We might be family but, to him, we’ve all turned against him.” It hurt so much. “I hope, in time, he realizes I’ll never, ever turn my back on him.”
“He will, Felicity.” His smile was sad. “I didn’t really do anything. He talked, and I listened.”
“Exactly. Thank you.” She glanced into her drink, watching the deep-red wine as she spun her glass. “He’s upset. And he has every reason to be.”
“You do, too, you know?” His voice lowered.
“Maybe.” She glanced at him.
“No maybe, Felicity.” A bone-weary sigh tore from his chest. “I admit we weren’t close these last few years—Matt and I, I mean—but we used to be. I knew him. I thought I knew him. And the shit he’s pulled, the depths of his selfishness, are…” He dragged his fingers through his thick, dark hair, leaving it standing on end. “What he did—I don’t know that guy. Or understand him.”
The urge to smooth his hair had her hand itching. “That’s a good thing.” She finished off her wine. “If you did understand him, I’d have to kick your butt out.”
He laughed, flooding her with warmth.
But the sparkle in his dark eyes and the dimple in his right cheek caught her off guard. Graham, happy, was devastating. In a good way. That startling flicker of heat she’d first experienced in the elevator returned with a vengeance. What she was feeling now had nothing to do with security. And the tripping rate of her pulse was anything but calm. She swallowed down the knot in her throat and forced herself to breathe. “But since you don’t, you can stay and drink wine and…” And what? That was the question. Her skin tingled. “Stay. If you want.”