The Texan's Surprise Baby (Bell Family 2)

He glanced toward the family compound and thought about slipping over to see if Hannah was awake. But, no. She needed her rest, and she wouldn’t appreciate it if anyone in her family saw him making a late-night call on her. She was going to have to face telling her family the truth eventually—soon—but that wasn’t the way she’d want to break the news to them.

He wished he understood better why she was so hesitant about revealing that he was the father of her child. He could understand that she’d be embarrassed about the awkwardness of the situation. But was there more to it than that? Was she worried about any claims he would make on their child? Had their one night together been so unsatisfactory for her that she’d bolted the next morning and was now sorry there was any reason for him to remain in her life? How was he to know if she wouldn’t talk to him?

The glow of several campfires flickered through the trees from both the RV and tent campgrounds. A few cars passed, as did a couple on bicycles equipped with headlamps and reflector tape. As he strolled through the resort, Andrew made mental notes of areas that could use a little more security lighting—without overlighting the campgrounds of course—and a few places where he would recommend installing discreet, closed-circuit cameras.

Outside Cabin 5, three men were rather loudly arguing outside on the porch. Andrew knew an alcohol-fueled conversation when he heard one. He hoped this one didn’t get so rowdy that a sleepy guest in a neighboring cabin would feel the need to report it to management, disturbing the Bell family. He knew the Bells were accustomed to those late calls, but he was sure they appreciated the uninterrupted nights.

“I’m telling you that girl on the beach was interested in me until you clowns ran her off by acting like fools. If I meet someone tomorrow, I want y’all to back off, you hear?” one of the men demanded loudly.

Another snorted mockingly. “Come on, Bill, she hardly looked twice at you. You think every woman you pass falls for you and most of the time you’re wrong. Like with that pregnant girl in the office yesterday.”

Andrew’s steps slowed dramatically.

“Hey, you think she wasn’t checking me out?” the first man asked. “If I was in the mood to tap a preggo, you can bet she’d be all over it. You didn’t see a ring on her finger, did you?”

Andrew’s fists clenched slowly at his side, even as the jerk’s companions guffawed.

“Hell, Bill, you really are delusional. Pregnant or not, women who look like that don’t go for guys like us. You better be content with Steffie and stop chasing the hotties or you’re going to end up alone, dude.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Stu. Ever since Camille dumped you, you’ve been—”

“Hey!” Someone from Cabin 4 called out from his own front porch. “Could you guys keep it down? We’ve got kids trying to sleep in here. Don’t make us call management.”

“Yeah, okay, sorry.” One of the men called back. “C’mon, guys, let’s get some sleep. We’re going out early to fish, remember? The three of us. Bros before...well, you know the rest.”

The thought of that man—any man—hitting on Hannah made Andrew scowl as he stalked back to his room. His expression must have been forbidding. The frumpy redhead in the room below his jumped and gave a little gasp when he appeared out of the darkness. She must have just gotten back from a vending-machine run. She nearly dropped the canned soda in her hand when she saw him.

Trying to smooth his expression, he gave her a nod and kept walking. One way or another, he promised himself, he would be talking with Hannah tomorrow.

* * *

Chaos descended with a vengeance Thursday afternoon. A neighboring resort suffered a catastrophic septic-system malfunction, shutting the place down for the weekend at a minimum. Frantically dealing with disappointed vacationers, the owners referred as many as they could to the Bell Resort, sending the rest to other facilities along the lake. Every available RV pad and tent site at Bell Resort was filled, as were the cabins and motel rooms. Even the overflow area behind the boat storage was filled to capacity. The grill, convenience store and marina buzzed with activity. Every member of staff was almost running trying to keep up.

Leaving her cousin Lori to work the front desk, Hannah volunteered to run errands in town that afternoon. She visited the bank and the post office, dropped off some dry cleaning, then stopped by the locally owned pharmacy her family patronized to pick up prenatal vitamins for herself and prescriptions for several family members. She parked in a shady corner of the almost-empty little lot so her car wouldn’t be quite so hot when she climbed back into it.

“Hello, Hannah. How are you today?” the pharmacist behind the counter asked with a welcoming smile after she’d been greeted by his two longtime employees. Short, round and mostly bald, his kind dark chocolate eyes gleaming in a polished ebony face, Luther Duquesne had served this community since Hannah was in grade school. He’d always had a lollipop for Hannah and Maggie when they’d come in with their mom, offered to them from a big glass jar filled with colorful treats. Even if he hadn’t been one of the nicest men she knew, for that reason alone, Hannah would always have a soft spot in her heart for him.

Plugged in as he was to the community, he already knew about the disaster at the Lake Oaks Marina, so he and Hannah chatted about that for a few minutes while he checked her out. “Tell your grandpa this is his last refill on his blood pressure medicine. He needs to go see his doctor this month.”

Hannah nodded. “I think he has an appointment, but I’ll make sure.”

“Before you go...” With a flourish, he presented her with an orange lollipop. “I seem to remember this being your favorite flavor.”

She laughed and accepted the treat. “Thank you, Mr. D. I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

He winked at her. “I plan to be around to give a lollipop to that little one of yours. You take care, you hear?”

“I’ll do that, thanks.”

Carrying the bag of meds and her lollipop, she left the little pharmacy with a smile. That smile faded when she approached her car and saw the back left tire was flat. Her good mood vanished completely when she saw the front left tire, also flat. With a sinking heart, she walked to the other side of her car. Both tires on the right were pancaked. Visible punctures in all four tires provided an explanation, and the long ugly scratch in the paint from the front right fender to the back of the car called further attention to the vandalism.

Someone had intentionally done this.

Chapter Three

Stunned, Hannah turned in a slow circle, looking for a possible culprit, but it was time for the pharmacy to close for the day and hers was the only car left in the little lot. She saw no one else within view who might have done this. The shaded corner in which she’d parked wasn’t particularly visible from the street. It wouldn’t have been difficult for someone to walk past, swiftly slash her tires and scratch her paint and rush away without attracting attention. What she could not understand was why anyone would have wanted to do so. A random act of maliciousness? Wannabe tough-guy juvenile delinquents showing off for friends? Or—she swallowed hard—had her car been specifically targeted?

“Hannah,” Luther called out from the door of the pharmacy, “are you all right?”