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Molly swallowed hard. “No, but now that I think about it, I guess she might. How would I know?” Molly still couldn’t decide what to make of the call she’d received from Jenna, who’d introduced herself as an old friend of Seth Spencer’s. Molly had figured she was in luck. If a good friend of the local bankers was designing the menus for the bed-and-breakfast Molly wanted to open, he’d be more likely to give Molly a loan, wouldn’t he? Still, why would an artist call Molly all the way from New York, offer to pay her own traveling expenses to Wisconsin, then agree to do the artwork so cheaply? Even more suspiciously, Jenna had made Molly swear not to tell Seth Spencer she was coming to town, saying she wanted to surprise him.
Dear Lord…what if the woman in the Cadillac is Jenna Robinson? What if she’s come to Tyler with a baby of Seth Spencer’s…a baby Seth doesn’t even know exists?
There goes my loan.
Molly squelched the thought. Yes, she’d definitely started reading too much romance fiction in the lonely times after her husband died. In real life, women didn’t putter into small, uneventful towns like Tyler, driving old gold Cadillacs and wielding babies they’d kept secret from banker daddies. Frowning, Molly stared down at her drying, passion-pink nails, trying to assure herself that tomorrow’s interview with Seth Spencer would go well. Surely, her uneasiness about Jenna’s arrival was unfounded. As soon as possible, maybe even tomorrow, Jenna and Seth would be jointly surveying Molly’s Victorian home. On the phone, Jenna had been responsive to Molly’s ideas for transforming the place into a romantic hideaway; now Molly was hoping Jenna’s artistic excitement would help convince Seth to fork over the start-up capital.
No, Molly decided with finality, the wild-looking woman in the Cadillac with the wedding dress and baby couldn’t be Jenna Robinson. Fate simply wasn’t that unkind. Nevertheless, Molly was still exhaling a worried sigh as the car halted, idling outside Eden Frazier’s flower shop, The Garden of Eden. Inside, Eden brushed back her brown hair, lifted a watering can and stepped around a bucket of eucalyptus. As she inhaled the deep, sweet scent of some nearby roses, her violet eyes squinted, taking in the ancient gold tank. A whimsical smile stretched her lips when she saw the wild-looking woman inside the car who was staring toward the Savings & Loan. “Where did she come from?” Eden whispered.
“New York City,” muttered the only resident of Tyler who could accurately answer that question. Seth Spencer watched the car and driver from his office in the bank. “But what for?”
Me.
“Seth,” he growled, “that’s not Jenna.”
But ever since he’d left New York, Seth had been glimpsing Jenna everywhere: in the Alberta Ingalls Memorial Library, in Amanda Baron Trask’s law offices, outside Marge’s Diner. The woman never really was Jenna, of course. Never would be, either. Jenna’s feelings—or lack of them—were clear when Seth calmly left her Soho loft six weeks ago.
No, the woman in the gold Cadillac couldn’t be Jenna.
Seth glanced past Molly Blake’s loan proposal and today’s copy of the Tyler Citizen, both of which were on his desk, then around the bank’s homey, old-fashioned interior, taking in the red-carpeted floors leading to the teller area. Maybe he should at least head into the lobby and check out the car…
Seth, it’s not her!
Fighting the urge to reach behind him and grab the gray wool jacket to his suit, he swallowed hard, denying his emotions. He shifted his oxford-clad feet, then started to take an unlit cigar out of his mouth and tighten the silver Hermés tie around the collar of his white-pressed shirt. But he didn’t move. Even if it is her, which it’s not, let her come to me.
That was more his style. He’d never let a woman, especially Jenna, see him come running. The house he’d foolishly bought near his father’s Victorian on Maple Street flashed through his mind, and he damned Jenna again, now for how unhappy he’d felt living there these past six weeks. One too many times, he’d found himself standing in the foyer, staring down the block, taking in the wraparound porch and gingerbread trim of his father’s house, a place that had lost its womanly touch after Seth’s mother, Violet, ran off with a man named Ray Bennedict when Seth was fourteen.
Too late Seth had realized that the last thing he needed was to own a four-bedroom house on the same block where he’d grown up. “Too much history,” he muttered now. The sparse steel furniture he’d brought from Manhattan barely filled the living room, and when Seth crossed the hardwood floors, his echoing footsteps sounded empty and hollow, evoking exactly what he’d felt when his mother vanished from Tyler.
He blew out an angry sigh. He should have known Jenna wouldn’t stick around, no more than his mother had. Even worse, before his return to Tyler, he hadn’t thought about his mother for years. In New York, he’d always flown high on external stimulus, his blood rushing with the sound of car horns or ticker tape announcing the latest hot deal on Wall Street. But six weeks ago Seth had landed in Tyler again, harboring still-raw feelings he hadn’t noticed for years. Which was why he needed to quit imagining Jenna was in town. Just like his mother, Jenna had proven she didn’t give a damn.
“Get over it,” he muttered, reaching for the phone. He’d been expecting one of his brothers, Quinn or Brady, to call before quitting time to see if he wanted to get supper at Marge’s Diner, but now Seth thought maybe he should take the initiative for once and call them. But no, somewhere along the line, he’d learned to watch and wait, to gauge how much others extended themselves while holding his own cards close to the vest. Whether the lesson had come from his mother’s abandonment or from working in New York’s cutthroat financial industry, Seth wasn’t sure. Either way, he wound up not picking up the phone.
The whole time, his liquid brown eyes stayed riveted on the Cadillac idling in front of Eden’s flower shop. Outwardly, he didn’t move a muscle; inwardly, he was going crazy. From here, the woman did look like Jenna. For a second, he pretended it was, and that she was impressed by the one-story brick Savings & Loan that was now his. Seth Spencer, said the brass nameplate on his office door. President.
Not that Jenna would care. Against his will, Seth visualized her Soho loft, the tasseled pillows, stacked books, and rock-hard, thigh-high queen-size bed that was perfect for lovemaking. The image was razor-sharp since Seth had showered, shaved and slept there with enough regularity over the past year and a half that the place felt like home.
Jenna had been naked in bed when he told her he was leaving a job at Goldman Sachs to return to Tyler as president of the family’s S&L, since his father, Elias, was retiring.
“Wonderful,” was all Jenna had said.
“Wonderful,” he muttered now. She hadn’t voiced concern for the future of their relationship, nor asked if he wanted to keep in touch. In fact, she hadn’t even quit painting her toenails. Even now he could see her: wearing a crimson nightie, sitting on the mussed covers of the bed, tilting a bottle of mint-green polish in one hand and brushing the nail of her baby toe with the other. She hadn’t been the least perturbed that he was leaving. Why couldn’t he just accept it?
He blew out another sigh, this one more murderous than the last. And why was that ugly gold junker still idling? Was it really Jenna? Was she waiting for him to notice her? To come out and strike up a conversation?
“If that’s what you’re thinking, sweetheart, keep dreaming,” Seth whispered around the unlit cigar, unaware his posture was exactly as it had been twenty-three years ago, on Thanksgiving Day, when he’d sat ponderously at his father’s kitchen table after hearing that his mother had disappeared. Later that day, he’d been told she’d run off with Ray Bennedict. Before nightfall, Seth had decided his mother was never coming back, and he’d promised himself he wouldn’t hope for a phone call or a knock at the door. He wouldn’t torture himself with the usual, ridiculous adolescent fantasies…wouldn’t imagine his mother coming to the schoolyard fence, her haunted eyes searching for him and his brothers, Quinn and Brady….
No, once she left, it was best never to expect a woman to return.
Seth leaned forward, anyway, wishing the woman in the Cadillac didn’t look so much like Jenna. He didn’t trust his perceptions, though, no more than he could admit how her lovemaking had affected him. Model-tall and fire-hot, Jenna had burned in his arms like a flaming torch. She possessed wild, short, red-streaked hair and a trendy wardrobe of sequined sweaters, feathered earrings and capes that electrified Seth’s every last male nerve. Where he strictly wore muted browns and grays, Jenna’s wardrobe exploded in magenta and turquoise, violet and crimson. All brightly colored motion, she’d been like a bird, flitting around him while Seth stayed still as a statue.
Somehow they’d fit, though.
“Our bodies sure did,” he growled, gritting his teeth against the sudden, unwanted ache of his groin. Ever since he’d happened into the Soho gallery where she worked, he and Jenna had dated. Not seriously, they’d assured each other, even though they’d wound up in bed on the first date. The next evening, on the second, they’d ordered takeout and made love while devouring Chinese food, and on the third date they’d quit bothering with the food.
But it was only sex, they’d said. Unusual chemical attraction. Nothing more.
They’d even gone months between dates as if to prove their continued emotional sovereignty. But now, as Seth stared at the car idling in the road, he admitted the truth. He still wanted her. He missed her like the devil.
Maybe he should have initiated a talk about their relationship before he left New York, but Jenna knew that wasn’t his style, didn’t she? Sighing, he tried to ignore the panic in his gut. He shouldn’t have minded the feeling. He was used to money deals and playing daily roulette with the stock market, and now that he had his own bank, the stakes were even higher. But when he made banking decisions, rows of neat, orderly figures backed him up. The panic he felt now was different. This panic was female-related, and Seth knew next to nothing about females.
Banking, he understood. Slowly and steadily, he’d worked for years, garnering the experience needed to run the S&L, a business in which his brothers Quinn and Brady had no personal interest. Seth had followed their father’s every step, going from Columbia to Wharton, then to Goldman Sachs—all so that now, at the age of thirty-seven, he could run this bank.
He’d never imagined that only six weeks after taking the job he’d be fighting the urge to turn his back on everything he’d ever worked for, just so he could return to New York and Jenna. Jenna, who doesn’t even want you.
The Cadillac started moving again.
His heart missed a beat.
But no, it really couldn’t be Jenna. She was from a Podunk North Carolina town she’d professed to hate, and once she’d left for the big city, she’d never looked back. Jenna would never venture into a place that lacked a cappuccino bar, a foreign film theater or inch-thick tabloids dripping with juicy celebrity gossip. Not that Tyler lacked gossip, Seth thought with remembered anger, his broad, powerful back stiffening to ward off buried emotions left over from adolescence. After his mother ran off with Ray, Seth had endured more than his share of pitying glances and hushed whispers. It hurt having the whole town know the Spencers hadn’t been man enough to hang on to the woman they loved.
It was why, if Seth was honest, he’d rather be anywhere in the world than Tyler, Wisconsin, this time of year. October was nearly gone, and Canadian air—cold, crisp and thin—was sweeping south into the region and chilling him to the bone.
Twenty years, he thought. Hard to believe, but it had been twenty years since he’d lived in Tyler. A lifetime. He’d been sure that when he came back home, the old feelings of loss and longing would be gone, but this was cold, hard, wintry country, with glassy lakes and too much empty space, the kind of country that always left a man with too much time on his hands to think about his past.
One too many nights Seth had needed Jenna to keep him warm. Now he cursed the stranger in the car for making him remember how her soft, smooth skin had burned under his greedy hands, and how easily her damp, wanting mouth had slackened for his, memories that made his groin tighten.
Memories, Seth thought, were damn powerful things.
Outside, the car swerved. Silently, he watched the headlights sweeping the pavement as the car rounded a corner, then disappeared. Only then did he rise. He kept staring into the dark, his eyes inadvertently searching, his heart aching with familiar loss and the firmly held conviction that once a woman was gone from a man’s life, she never returned.
“WHERE’S THE Kelsey Boarding House?” Jenna Robinson groaned, twisting the sparkling engagement ring on her finger and glancing into the rearview mirror, to where Gretchen was strapped in a car seat. “Hey there, sweetie,” she added. “You holding up okay?”
The two-year-old yawned.
Jenna chuckled. Gretchen looked adorable, dressed in black corduroy overalls and a pint-size black leather jacket. “We’re almost there,” Jenna assured, freeing a hand and flattening Molly Blake’s directions against the cracked vinyl of the ample dashboard. Staring through the windshield, Jenna tried to ignore her hammering heart. “What was I thinking?” she murmured, knowing she shouldn’t have stopped outside the S&L. Was Seth working? Or had he left the office for the day?
“Jenna, you’re pathetic.” She had only one piece of business to take care of in Tyler, Wisconsin—informing Seth she was getting married next week. And who could blame her for wanting to deliver the news as soon as possible? After she’d endured a painful year and a half of Seth’s noncommittal behavior, somebody else had fallen desperately in love with her and wanted to help her raise the baby she was carrying. Just thinking of the life growing inside her made her eyes soften.
Seth’s baby.
Pushing aside the thought, she decided that she had to get some rest and change clothes before she told him the news. She was covered with road grime. Besides, one look around the Madison airport had made perfectly clear that Jenna was all wrong for Wisconsin, not that her fishnet stockings, feathered sweater and miniskirt were that strange. Nor did she think she’d packed anything much more conservative. Nevertheless, she was tired of people staring at her as if she were wearing a Halloween costume. “This place could sure use some action,” she muttered, glancing around the dark, tree-lined street. With Halloween upcoming, maybe she’d dress as a bank robber and target the Spencer family’s bank.
Meantime, every horse, wire fence and mile on the odometer of the Cadillac reminded her of why she’d fled Bear Creek, North Carolina, for the Fashion Institute of New York the second she turned eighteen. Her hands tightened on the wheel as she thought of North Carolina and her parents, not that she exactly wanted to dwell on Nancy and Ralph, who were so close they’d scarcely ever seemed to notice their daughter existed. It was probably why Jenna had so foolishly pursued Seth, willing to take the crumbs he called affection.
“Face it, Jenna, it’s your cross to bear.” She glanced at the faded paperback cover of Women Who Love Too Much, which was beside her on the seat. She’d brought it to reread on the plane. When it came to attracting unavailable men, she was like the magnet inside an MRI.
Or she had been.
But now she was loved. Cherished. Cared for in the exact way she deserved. Her throat tightening, she thought of the Soho art gallery owned by her friend, Sue Ellis, who was Gretchen’s mom, and then she thought of the gallery’s co-owner, Dom Milano.
Even now, she could barely believe Dom had proposed. Buoyed up by the passion he’d expressed, Jenna felt her heart ache. She’d met the two gallery owners only a week after moving to New York, and over the past sixteen years, they’d become her substitute family. It was why Jenna had agreed, at the eleventh hour, to watch Gretchen while Sue went on an impromptu art buying trip to Paris.
Fortunately, Gretchen had handled the airplane like a pro. Jenna had felt antsy about bringing the baby to Tyler, but Dom had his hands full with running the gallery right now, and he insisted Jenna talk to Seth before she responded to the marriage proposal.
Jenna simply couldn’t wait. She was going to marry Dom as soon as she returned to New York. He was such a sweetheart. He’d said he wouldn’t start their physical relationship—not so much as a kiss, he’d vowed—until she went to Tyler, until he knew she would definitely be his. She smiled weakly. Who would have known Dom could be so romantic? In all the years of their friendship, she never would have guessed.
And he was so sexy. Tall and slender, he was Italian-born and raised on Mott Street in Little Italy. He had straight black hair, devastating dark eyes, and after sixteen years of knowing him, Jenna knew she’d never find a better man. He was so accommodating, too, guessing Jenna’s needs before she even knew she had them. What she’d shared with Seth, she assured herself, was nothing more than overrated chemistry.
She frowned. Since Sue’s divorce, Jenna had felt so sure Dom was falling for Sue, though. He’d doted on Gretchen, too. Mistakenly, Jenna had assumed that the time Dom spent with Jenna wasn’t significant, especially since they usually went over strategies for strengthening her relationship with Seth. After Seth left for Tyler, Dom had overheard her speaking on the phone with an obstetrician, and he’d proposed.
He’d been so eloquent, too. He said he wanted her, loved her. He offered her everything she secretly wanted—marriage and a name for the baby. But Dom had one condition: that she come to Tyler and tell Seth about the pregnancy, just to ensure there wouldn’t be trouble later. Which, of course, there wouldn’t be. Seth couldn’t care less.
Blowing out a shaky breath, she murmured, “How did I manage to get lost in a town this small? Where’s the boarding house?” Her eyes traced the street, the frame houses reminding her that she wasn’t going to a four-star hotel. No USA Today and room service. “Ah,” she suddenly said, “that must be it. The address is right.”
Fortunately, there was plenty of room to park. Jenna hadn’t driven for years. She’d never been behind the wheel of a car this large, either, but it had been the least expensive at the rent-a-wreck. Getting out, she slammed the door, then lifted Gretchen from the back seat, deciding to check in before retrieving their suitcases from the car. “Hey, sweetie,” she murmured again, planting a kiss on Gretchen’s cheek and grinning down as the toddler’s short stubby legs wrapped around her waist.
Gretchen blinked, curling sleepily on Jenna’s shoulder as they headed for the door. Frowning, Jenna suddenly wished she hadn’t agreed to do work for Molly Blake. “You’re so spineless,” she whispered aloud, her breath fogging the chilly air. A month or so ago, Seth had given her Molly’s number, saying Molly was thinking of opening a bed-and-breakfast and might want to hire a freelance artist to do some promotion. Seth, of course, assumed Jenna would do the work via mail from New York.
And she should have. That way she could talk to Seth, just as she’d promised Dom, then leave immediately. Still, without having a reason other than her and Seth Spencer’s baby, she simply couldn’t bring herself to come to Tyler.
Anxiously twisting the ring on her finger again, she winced, hoping Sue and Dom found the note in the gallery saying she’d borrowed it. Dom said they’d shop for a ring as soon as she returned; meantime, she’d decided to give Seth the message loud and clear that she was getting married. Seth didn’t have to know this was a cubic zircon, not a real diamond.
“Hello,” she called, shifting Gretchen as she unzipped her black leather coat, opened the door of the boarding house and stepped inside, relieved to find the place clean and bright, bustling with early evening activity. “You must be Johnny Kelsey.”
“Sure am.” The man was in his sixties, had dark hair shot through with gray, and Jenna was relieved to see he was the first resident of Wisconsin who didn’t seem the least perturbed by fishnets and leather. “That must be Gretchen,” he continued. “We got a crib set up for her. Over there, that’s Patrick and Pam,” he said, nodding toward his son and his son’s wife.
Jenna nodded. “Ah,” she returned, smiling. “Molly mentioned you.” Molly had also said Pam Kelsey was an Olympic track medallist before being diagnosed with MS. Apparently, her health was good now, and the couple had adopted a son, Jeremy, now four. Before Jenna could continue, Johnny said, “And this fine young lady is Caroline Benning. She’s working at our best eatery in town, Marge’s Diner, so I’m sure you’ll meet again. Her room’s just down the hallway from yours.”
“Hi,” Jenna said, her eyes settling on the other woman. She was young, in her early twenties and all-American-pretty, tall and willowy with bright green eyes and light brown, highlighted hair. She’d been coming from the back of the house, carrying a quilt which she’d probably shaken out. When Gretchen leaned in, reaching for the bright fabric, Caroline stepped back, almost protectively.
“Now, don’t get so grabby, Gretchen,” Jenna said with a soft laugh, curling her hand gently over Gretchen’s chubby fingers and distracting her. “Lovely quilt work,” she added, her eyes taking in the handiwork. Before she could further study the design, Johnny Kelsey captured her attention again. “No baggage, Ms. Robinson?”
Baggage? She had plenty, of course, but Johnny wasn’t really inquiring about her relationship with Seth Spencer. She laughed again. “Do I look like a woman who travels without suitcases?”
He looked her over as if contemplating everything from her blue fingernail polish, to the decorative collar stenciled around her neck in henna, to her studded earlobes and clothes, then he chuckled. “Somehow I bet you’ve got more than one.”
“Please call me Jenna,” she corrected with a smile. “The things are in the car.” Pausing, she grinned down at Gretchen who was asleep on her shoulder. “I figure I’d better put this sleepy little rascal down first, though.”
And then Jenna would tell Seth Spencer she was pregnant.
Chapter Two
“Jenna couldn’t have stirred up Tyler, Wisconsin any more than this if she morphed into an Osterizer blender,” Seth murmured the next morning, staring through the open door of his private office toward the windows in the lobby. Deciding against shrugging into the muted brown suit jacket that matched his slacks, he ignored the hammering of his heart as she parallel parked in front of the bank. Or, more accurately, tried to parallel park.
Nervously, he knotted an olive tie that was neatly tucked under the collar of a white shirt he’d pressed himself. Six weeks hadn’t been enough time to adjust to not having Chinese laundries where he could drop off his shirts, but watching Jenna, he suddenly wished he’d done a better job of ironing his rumpled sleeves and cuffs. He looked the last way he wanted to—like a man desperately in need of a woman’s care.
Despite his apprehension—or, more accurately, hope about what Jenna was doing in Tyler—Seth smiled, taking in her seventh attempt to wedge the noisy, dented gold tank between Nora Gates Forrester’s new Miata roadster and Marge Phelps’s red Dodge truck. Jenna, who hadn’t yet realized she had a good six feet to spare, was now drawing a crowd on the sidewalk. “If more people show up, maybe I’ll sell popcorn and peanuts,” mused Seth. “Maybe even funnel cakes.”
Not that Jenna looked particularly pleased about having an audience. Knowing her, the Smashing Pumpkins or Nirvana were blasting from the radio, anyway, so she wouldn’t hear anybody coaching. Because of the way she was hunched over the wheel, turning it with all her might, Seth figured the Cadillac lacked power steering. As she painstakingly angled between the other two cars, she craned her head toward the child who was strapped in back, then whirled toward the windshield again.
Even from here, she looked so gorgeous that Seth’s breath caught. His heart clutched, too, not that his impenetrable features would allow anyone to guess it. He knew right then that Jenna Robinson wasn’t leaving his office until they made love on the smooth, polished mahogany surface of his desk. If the truth be told, he’d been fantasizing about that for weeks. A plan formed as he swept the work papers into a drawer. The second she came through the door, he’d kiss her senseless, pull her against his chest and hold her as if he’d never let go. Gently, he’d lift her, carry her to the desk and…
The more he thought about the countless things he wanted to do and say to her, the more Seth admitted he’d never wanted a woman so badly. “Unbelievable,” he whispered.
Jenna Robinson was really in Tyler, Wisconsin. Maybe she cared about him, after all. When he got to work this morning, he’d heard the news about her arrival, but he hadn’t really believed it. After the way his mother had left Tyler years ago, maybe he’d never fully believe a woman could care for him. Old emotions died hard, he guessed. The well-oiled Tyler gossip machine turned out to be right, though. After all, it wasn’t every day that a gold Cadillac lurched into Tyler.
This was the story Seth had gotten: Feeling naturally curious, Nora Gates Forrester had called Martha Bauer at Worthington House last night in hopes of finding out who the woman in the gold Cadillac was, since Martha usually knew everything. Martha couldn’t identify Jenna, however, so the two women conference-called Tisha, who was still at The Hair Affair. No one having their hair done had recognized Jenna, but after she checked into the boarding house, Anna Kelsey kindly called Lydia Perry, who then called Reverend Sarah Baron, who called Jenna at Kelsey’s to say her husband, Michael, wanted to look at the car muffler and to invite Jenna to Sunday services at the Tyler Fellowship Sanctuary—all of which meant that by the time Molly Blake arrived at the S&L this morning to discuss the loan for the bed-and-breakfast she wanted to open, he’d already found out from his brother that the new resident at Kelsey’s was Jenna.
“Jenna Robinson?” Seth had asked Molly anyway. As much as he hated gossip, he had been unable to stop himself from asking for more confirmation. “You’re sure, Molly?”
Molly had frowned as if suddenly terrified her loan might be jeopardized by her association with Jenna. “I hope that’s all right,” she’d said worriedly. “You did recommend her, didn’t you? I’m getting together with Jenna today, to discuss the promotional materials for the bed-and-breakfast…materials I’d hoped she could share with you tomorrow. I thought you two were friends…”
“We dated in New York,” Seth assured her.
Before he could remind Molly that he was a banker, not an ogre, Molly raced on, “Oh, good! Jenna sounded so nice on the phone, and she begged me to keep this news of her coming to Tyler a secret, so I did. I guess my saying so now doesn’t matter, since you know she’s here, but she wanted her arrival to be a surprise. She must simply adore you.” Molly lowered her voice. “And we all saw the cute little girl with her. She was strapped in the—”
“Back seat?” Seth had said, grinning but raising his eyes in surprise. “She’s about two? Chubby, with a big grin and squinched up nose? A spray of blond hair she keeps pulled back in bow-shaped barrettes?”
Molly giggled. “Sounds about right.”
“That’s Jenna’s boss’s daughter,” Seth hadn’t been able to stop himself from confiding, feeling eager for news of Jenna. Sure, he dreaded getting more deeply involved and courting the old, hurtful feelings left by his mother’s abandonment, but nothing more than hearing Jenna’s name practically did him in. It felt good in his mouth; speaking it reminded him of the dark, sensual hours they’d spent, and even now, he could almost feel her hair catching on his lips. “Jenna’s like a second mother to Gretchen,” he’d added with a frown, thinking of the child he’d come to know while dating Jenna. “It seems strange that she brought Gretchen here, though.”
“Oh,” Molly had laughed, blushing. “And here I was thinking the baby was—Oh, I don’t know what I was thinking, Mr. Spencer! I just guessed that maybe…”
Seth couldn’t help but catch Molly’s drift. “That the baby was mine?” A soft, startled chuckle had escaped his lips. The idea had taken him by surprise, but shouldn’t he have considered fatherhood before now? He was thirty-seven. Some men his age had kids who were heading off for college. If the truth be told, Seth liked the idea of kids; they were cute, funny and sweet. It was only women that worried him. “No wonder you want to open the Breakfast Inn Bed,” he’d managed to say aloud to Molly. “You’re obviously a romantic.”
“True, but the inn will be profitable,” Molly assured, her eyes narrowing as she continued surveying Seth. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you this, but you’re right. I’m a romantic. Since you said you and Jenna dated in New York, maybe you should know that everybody took note of the wedding dress in the front seat of her car. Everybody wants to know if you two are…”
Somehow, he’d controlled his shocked expression, his mind reeling. Jenna had brought a wedding dress to Tyler? “Considering getting married?” he’d finished for Molly. “Not that I know of. If Jenna’s got that on her mind, she sure hasn’t informed me yet.”
Now he swallowed hard, his throat feeling dry and raw. What could be the meaning of Jenna’s bringing a wedding dress to Tyler? He was definitely the only man she knew here. Had he been wrong for the past six weeks? Had she really missed him as much as he’d secretly missed her? Had he been a fool not to offer her more trust?
“Looks like she might have come here to propose to me,” he murmured, feeling stupefied as he blew out a shaky breath.
Earlier, he’d been so overwhelmed that he’d barely heard the rest of Molly’s spiel as they’d continued discussing the status of her loan. Unfortunately, in addition to needing start-up capital, a neighbor who didn’t relish having a business next door to her was causing Molly some trouble. Seth hoped things would work out. He liked Molly immensely and wanted to give her the money, but protocol demanded he see her property first, something he’d said he’d do tomorrow with Jenna, since Molly wanted him to review Jenna’s plans for creating promotional materials.
By tomorrow I’ll be engaged. The voice came from nowhere, and Seth realized it was probably true, given that Jenna had breezed into Tyler with the wedding dress. “A wedding dress?” he’d said at one point to Molly. “Are you absolutely positive? You really saw this?”
Molly had nodded. “You could see it plain as day in the front seat of that car,” she’d assured. “I wasn’t that close, but Nora was in the window of her department store working on the Halloween display, so she got a better look. The streetlight was shining right into the car, she said, so she could see that the dress was of lace and sequins, and since it took up half the front seat, Nora figures it’s floor-length with a full skirt. If a veil’s needed, Nora said she just got some in for the bridal boutique. You know,” Molly added, “the one she just opened in her store.”
Seth hadn’t heard about the boutique, but there was enough detail in the description to convince him the rumor about the wedding dress was true. Strangely, none of his usual panic had descended when he thought of standing at the altar with Jenna. Deep down, he trusted her, didn’t he? He’d known her a long time. Hell, some couples tied the knot after knowing each other only a few weeks, right? And it sure did look as if Jenna had come all the way out to the boondocks to claim him.
Sure, he’d felt a little worried last night when he’d only thought the woman in the car was Jenna. But now he knew it was her. And if she’d come all the way to Tyler with a wedding dress, couldn’t he assume she’d want to make some kind of commitment? Didn’t that mean she might not abandon him in the future? All this time he’d told himself he was marriage-shy, but wasn’t that merely defensiveness?
Now he watched her get regally out of the car, her tall, slim body floating upward. She slammed the door and leaned into the back seat for Gretchen. A smile tugged his lips when he saw the baby girl he’d come to adore. A black knit cap was snuggled down around her ears, and Jenna had dressed her in black jeans and a leather jacket. Unbidden came the thought, Why not have kids of our own? I’m thirty-seven, and Jenna’s only thirty-four, so it’s not too late. There’s plenty of time. He thought of how much he’d loved hanging around with his brothers, Quinn and Brady, when they were kids, and of how much fun he’d had when he, Sue, Dom and Jenna had taken Gretchen trick-or-treating for the first time last Halloween. That was exactly a year ago. Suddenly, it seemed hard not to imagine Jenna—craftsy as she was—making costumes for their kids. In a year or two, maybe he and Jenna really would have a child….
“I don’t know,” he murmured. Maybe he was jumping the gun. Maybe Molly had gotten things all wrong, and there was no wedding dress. Seth guessed he’d find out the truth soon enough.
