“Will do,” I say. “Anyways, the chicken coop needs to be cleaned, so I’ve got to head out. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
Patricia nods and smiles, but then bites her lip.
“I never told you, but thanks so much for welcoming my daughter during her time of need,” Pat says. “I owe you, little brother. Hads wasn’t in a good place earlier this year, but I know a short stay in our hometown was just what she needed. I’m sure she’s on the up and up now.”
I nod, smiling insipidly.
“Sure, no worries, sis. It was my pleasure.”
Then I hang up because obviously, Patricia has no idea of how I’ve corrupted her daughter. She has no idea that I was putting my cock in her daughter’s body on a nightly basis, if not two or three times a day. It was the best period of my life, but where is the curvy girl now? While our six month liaison is now over, I never expected the beautiful blonde to flat-out disappear.
My hands tremble as I shove my phone into my pocket. This is bad, and there’s a sense of foreboding in my gut. There’s no reason for Hadley to go off grid. There’s no reason for her to completely cut ties with either her mother or me. Sure, maybe I wasn’t super-enthusiastic about her job at Club Z, but I wasn’t going to judge her for it either. So where is she? What if she’s sleeping under a bridge, or dead in a ditch somewhere? I know my imagination’s starting to run wild, but the frantic pulsing in my veins tells me that I need to find her. I need to make sure that my woman’s safe, even if she doesn’t want to be with me anymore. After all, Hadley is mine … and I can’t let things rest until I’ve ensured that she’s okay.
14
HADLEY
Two months later.
My vision blurs as I walk back to my small suite at the extended stay hotel where I’ve taken up residence. Being a seamstress suits me well, but I swear, all those tiny buttons and invisible thread get to you after a while. Plus, all the sitting doesn’t help either. My ankles are hugely swollen, and my back aches from remaining in the same position for hours each day. I’m definitely going to have to request more fifteen-minute breaks just to walk around and get my circulation going.
After all, sewing as a hobby was fun, but sewing for eight hours a day takes its toll, just like any other job. I suppose that’s why it’s called work, but I’m just thankful that I have a job, honestly. With the baby coming, I’ll need to take some time off to recuperate, so I need to save as much as I can right now.
I rest a hand on my large bump as I make my way closer to the hotel. Luckily, it’s only about a ten-minute walk from the tailor’s shop, but it’s still a ungainly and awkward walk, seeing that I’m heavily pregnant. I probably look like a huge, unsteady ship, rocking from right to left as I lumber down the sidewalk.
Sighing, I look around. Tepee, Minnesota is fine. It’s cold already, and I pull my sweater tighter about my shoulders. Sometimes my mind wanders and I can’t help but think back to my time at Renfrew Acres. It seems like a million years ago, but that was a period of my life when I used to take a daily stroll through beautiful corn fields, looking up at the brilliant blue sky as a breeze lightly caressed my shoulders. Back then, I felt nothing but peaceful and content on my walks. Now, real life has intruded and I live in a tiny box with fluorescent lighting, carefully counting my pennies each day.
But it is what it is, and I’m grateful to have a job. Besides, I can’t go back to my old life. Not the one in Manhattan and definitely not the one with Frank either because he doesn’t want me anymore, if he ever did in the first place.
Do you ever think of me, Frank? I think silently in my head, one hand caressing my baby bump. I miss and love you so much.
But I shake my head to rid myself of these thoughts because they do me no good. Our six month liaison ended, and he didn’t invite me to stay. We didn’t really talk about anything in the end, but he’s certainly made no attempt to reach out since I left. Sadness fills my heart as I lumber up the street.
“It’s okay, baby,” I murmur quietly. “It’ll be alright. It’s just the two of us, but we’ll be fine together. We’ve come this far, haven’t we? We’re fine—”
But then the words die on my tongue and my feet come to a sudden halt because from here, I can see the large figure of a man standing on the sidewalk in front of the hotel. At first I think that my eyes are deceiving me, but there’s only one man that big and handsome. His broad form is tall and commanding, and that dark hair is brushed back from his forehead. He’s dressed casually, but he looks tired too. Is everything okay? Did Bessie give birth to her new calf? Did the fence on the west side get repaired after the storm?