“Sheriff Martinez.” She sighed, exasperated. “He’s seen his fair share of hurting. Now you’re back and he’s just as smitten as ever.”
“What are you talking about?” Charity knew her mother had a flare for the dramatic, but she was being ridiculous.
“You were so determined to get out of Pecan Valley, you never stopped to look around you. That boy followed you around since grade school, not that you ever noticed.” Her tone was sharp.
“Mom, we dated…sort of. I was never mean to him.” Was she? She hoped not. She’d never have intentionally hurt him.
Her mother’s look was disapproving. “You left; he moved on. Married, settled down, and expecting.”
Charity stopped eating. Braden? Married? A father? “What?”
“Not anymore. Sad story, really. Too sad for today.” She paused, shaking her head. “I think we’ve had enough sadness for now, don’t you?”
“Mom, you can’t start to tell me something like that, then stop.” Besides, she needed to start breathing again.
“They died, honey.” She sighed. “Let’s leave it at that.”
Charity stared at the man talking with her father. “How long ago?” she asked.
“Six years? Eight?” Her mother shrugged. “He hasn’t shown a bit of interest in a woman until now.” Her mother tipped her chin up, her gaze brutal. “Now you’re back, pregnant and alone, and he’s still following you around. I’m not worried about you, Charity—you’ve got us. I am worried about him. He’s lost enough. You be careful with him, you hear me?”
A hard, jagged knot settled in Charity’s throat. Poor Braden. Her hands skimmed over her stomach, imagining the bump and flutters going away forever. It hurt too much to imagine. Braden had lost that and more. Children and his wife? Her stomach rolled, and she sat heavily in one of the dining room chairs.
Braden was up before she could stop him, offering her a glass of lemonade. “Charity?”
“Thank you.” She took a small sip before she smiled up at him.
But there it was, just like her mother said. A flash of warmth, concern—tenderness even. Then it was gone. She’d never have suspected he cared about her if her mother hadn’t said something. She was pregnant, after all. Wasn’t that sort of a huge deterrent for a single guy? A too-hot-to-be-single guy… Then again, her mother loved to read between the lines and extract what she wanted to see. But, if there was the slightest chance her mother was right she’d be extra careful with Braden. Besides, she could use some friends that weren’t related to her. And she got the feeling Braden could use a friend, too.
…
Felicity pulled a package of clear plastic plates from the pantry. When Widow Rainey said a few people were coming for a quiet gathering, she’d believed her. Instead, most of Pecan Valley was here. Now she was scavenging for cutlery and food and working her refrigerator’s ice machine overtime.
“Need a hand?” Charity asked. “I brought reinforcements.”
Braden Martinez was there, looking as uncomfortable as ever.
But Graham slipped in behind them, and her tension melted away. His smile did that. And, boy, was he smiling.
“That tray, please.” Felicity nodded at the tray piled high with fresh chopped veggies and a homemade dip. “Can you take that one, too? With the sweets? But tell Nick to stay away from this one; it has pecans.” She put the tray with candies and cookies in Braden’s hand.
“Right. The whole allergic thing.” Charity laughed. “It is a good way to get out of eating stuff, I guess.”
Graham stood back, his warm brown gaze watching her. The sooner she shooed her sister and Braden out of the kitchen, the better.
“Anything else?” Braden asked.
“This, too?” she asked, adding a package of cutlery and plates. “Got it?”
He nodded.
“Let’s go, Sheriff. But try not to drop anything,” Charity said, pushing open the kitchen door and shooting him a cheeky grin as he led the way. “Hey, I got you away from Widow Rainey. You can thank me later.” The door swung shut.
She grabbed Graham. “I was wondering when you were going to get here.”
“Diana.” He kissed her. “She wanted to dress up.” He kissed her again. “An actual dress.”
Felicity pushed off him. “Really?”