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Megan’s friend had turned out to be a natural in front of the camera. The viewers loved her. Advertisers clamored for the available commercial spots during her segments. Selling her show to the syndicator would be a breeze. And, to be perfectly frank, she was a whole lot less demanding than the woman seated in front of him. Peggy was a nurturer. Megan was a type-A control freak.
“It wouldn’t be on my plate,” Megan said. “It would be on yours. You’re the executive producer around here.”
“That’s my name on the credits,” he agreed. “But you’re in charge. You still oversee every detail on the show and for the magazine. You vowed to let up once you married Jake, but I haven’t seen any evidence of it.”
“I’m letting up now,” she said, an uncharacteristic blush on her cheeks.
“And I’m a full-fledged cowboy,” Todd retorted, not believing her for a minute. Megan was far too obsessive-compulsive to give up any control of her empire.
“No, I am letting up,” she insisted, then took a deep breath and blurted, “I’m pregnant.”
Todd stared, then jumped up and let out a whoop as he scooped her out of the chair and spun her around. He was genuinely delighted for her. The ultimate career woman, Megan had taken a long time to realize that she was mother material. Thrust into the role when she’d assumed guardianship of her grandfather’s illegitimate eight-year-old daughter less than a year ago, she’d panicked, then thrived, ultimately proving that she could handle career and motherhood without missing a beat. Over time she and Tess had built a better relationship than most kids had with their natural parents. She’d even found room in her heart and in their lives for Tess’s biological mother, Flo.
“Congratulations! It’s about time,” he enthused.
“We haven’t been married that long,” Megan reminded him. “Just a few months.”
“From what I’ve heard it only takes one night, especially if you’re not planning on it. What does Jake think? Never mind. He’s probably over the moon. How about Tess?” he asked.
“Still full of surprises. Jake and I worried how she would react, since she’s just beginning to believe that I intend to be a real mother to her. Apparently, though, she thinks this is something we’ve done especially for her. She’s looking forward to having a little brother or sister she can boss around. Says it’ll be even better than all those kittens she’s managed to sneak into the house.” She surveyed him intently. “How about you? Think you’re ready to be a godfather?”
Taken by surprise, his palms began to sweat. “Me? You can’t be serious. I can’t even remember the last time I set foot in a church. What kind of role model would I be?” he asked, dismissing the idea out of hand.
“Who else would we want? Jake agrees. You’ve been with us through thick and thin. We want to share this with you. And you can always start joining us in church on Sundays. You’ll feel perfectly at home by the time the baby gets here.”
Todd regarded her uneasily. As thrilled as he was for her and Jake, this was definitely a twist he hadn’t anticipated. It made his stomach constrict just thinking about it. How could he tactfully decline something most people would consider an honor?
“I’m flattered, really I am, but maybe you’d better think that over,” he said carefully. “I haven’t spent that much time around kids. I’d probably mess it up.”
“You’re wonderful with Tess.”
“She’s a real person. This would be a baby.”
“Not forever,” Megan pointed out. “We’re counting on him or her growing up eventually.”
On the verge of a full-fledged anxiety attack, Todd murmured, “Call me when that happens.”
Obviously the depth of his uneasiness finally sank in. Megan studied him with that probing, take-no-prisoners look she usually reserved for tough on-air interviews. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
“Like I said, I’m flattered, but I really don’t think I’m the best candidate.”
But Megan was not willing to let the subject drop. “I’ve known you for a long time. It’s not like you to turn down a new project just because it’s unfamiliar turf. You were on my case from the beginning when it came to Tess. You didn’t let me back away from that challenge, just because I was scared out of my wits. So why should I let you?”
“This isn’t a new project or a half-grown kid,” he said tightly. “It’s a baby, a helpless little baby. I’m telling you I can’t do it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Megan, how many ways do I have to say it? No. Not in this lifetime. Never. Forget it.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, backing down. “There’s a long time to go. Maybe the idea will grow on you. Maybe you’ll change your mind.”
“I won’t,” Todd insisted, his gaze steady. Megan would simply have to understand that this time he couldn’t be badgered or cajoled into giving in. There was only one thing he couldn’t or wouldn’t do for her and this was it.
“Find someone else, Megan.”
“But—”
“I mean it. I love you. I respect you. I would do almost anything in the world for you or Jake. But I will not be godfather to your baby.”
Her gaze narrowed, then turned speculative. “Why do I sense that there’s more going on here than you’ve said?”
“Because you can’t take no for an answer?” he suggested. “It’s some genetic flaw, I think.”
“I’m not giving up on you,” she retorted, undaunted by his attitude. “It only took a few weeks to turn you into a cowboy against your will. The baby’s not due for eight more months.”
Todd sighed at the determined gleam in her eye. Megan on a mission was a force to be reckoned with. But just this once, he figured he was even more highly motivated than she was. If nothing else worked, he would resort to the truth. Then she wouldn’t allow him within an arm’s length of her baby.
2
Todd was living here? Heather gazed up and down the main street of Whispering Wind and wondered if she’d somehow landed on the set for Annie Get Your Gun. The downtown was no more than a few blocks long and dominated by a handful of old-fashioned storefronts, ranging from a diner and a general store to a hardware store and a feed-and-grain supplier. Feed and grain? Something told her that wasn’t a gourmet grocery, catering to vegetarians.
The place did have a certain rustic charm, she supposed, but Todd, here? Todd Winston, the ultimate yuppie even when he hadn’t had a dime, in a town that didn’t have a Starbucks or department store in sight, much less a skyscraper? Where was he buying his designer shirts? Where was he going for sushi? Where were the theaters? Megan O’Rourke must have the persuasive skills of a hostage negotiator.
“Mama?” Angel tugged on her hand and gave her an imploring look. “Want ice cream. Now.”
Now was Angel’s second favorite word after no. It usually meant trouble was just around the corner unless Heather complied with her wishes. Since it was a tantrum that had brought them here, Heather was willing to do almost anything to avoid one now.
“In a minute, sweet pea,” she said, trying to buy a few minutes to look around, to absorb not only the simplicity of the town, but the fact that the temperature seemed close to freezing even though it was already mid-May. She shivered and tugged her sweater more tightly around her, then checked the zipper on Angel’s coat which she had a way of tugging down.
“Now!” Angel repeated. “Want ice cream now!”
Heather sighed. She had barely had time to breathe since dropping their belongings off at a motel on the outskirts of town. Angel had been too excited to take her usual afternoon nap. This walk was supposed to settle her down, so Heather could have some quiet time to make plans, including coming up with a less expensive alternative to the car she’d been forced to rent at the airport.
On the flight to Laramie, she’d given more thought to exactly how she needed to handle things with Todd. She couldn’t expect to drop Angel on his doorstep and simply walk away. Father and daughter were going to need time to get to know each other, time for Todd to accept the situation. Spending the summer sounded about right.
Surely after three months she and Todd could come to some sort of an agreement. Shared custody, maybe. Child-support payments. She wasn’t sure exactly what was fair, which meant she probably ought to see a lawyer before making contact with Angel’s daddy. She’d noticed a sign for an attorney—Jake Landers—right across the street. She doubted there was more than one in a town the size of Whispering Wind.
“Mama!” Angel’s face was scrunched up, indicating that tears were on the immediate horizon.
“Okay, baby, let’s get ice cream.”
As they walked down the block to the ice-cream parlor Angel had spotted thanks to the colorful giant cone out front, Heather noticed the Help Wanted sign in the window of the diner. Now that she’d had a look around the town, something told her that waitressing was about the best she could hope to do here. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t used to it.
“Baby, let’s stop in here for a minute,” she said, turning Angel toward the diner.
Angel let out a wail that could have put a car alarm to shame.
“I’m sure they have ice cream in here, too,” Heather consoled, for once undaunted by the building sobs. She hunkered down and touched a silencing finger to Angel’s lips. “But if you don’t stop that crying right this instant, you won’t get any. Okay?”
The tears magically stopped. “Okay,” Angel said agreeably, as if that had been her plan all along.
The Starlight Diner was spotless, but there was no mistaking the wear and tear on the red vinyl seats, the initials that had been scratched on the Formica tabletops, the jukeboxes in every booth that boasted hits from the sixties. It was the kind of place where generations of teens had probably courted, where old men came daily for a cup of coffee and local news. It had tradition written all over it. Some of the places she’d worked in in New York might have been fancier, but they had opened and closed faster than a bad Broadway play.
At nearly two o’clock in the afternoon, there was only a lone customer left at the counter, a man wearing a rumpled pin-striped suit and black leather cowboy boots. His gaze followed the waitress as she briskly wiped tables, but the woman seemed to be deliberately avoiding him.
Heather slid Angel into a booth, then sat across from her. The waitress, a tall, thin woman with short-cropped gray hair and a ready smile, came up with an order pad in hand. She grinned at Angel.
“Hey, there, aren’t you a cutie. I haven’t seen you in here before. I’m Henrietta Hastings, by the way,” she said to Heather. “What can I get for you?”
“Ice cream for her. Chocolate, if you can bear the thought of half of it winding up on the table or floor.”
“Honey, you’d be amazed at how much winds up on the table or floor, put there by folks a whole lot older than this little one. Don’t worry about it. Messes are just part of the business. Now, how about you? Ice cream, too? Although, if that’s what you’re after, I’d recommend you head on down the street. They have a fancier supply than I carry in here.”
“I’ll have coffee for now and maybe some information?”
Henrietta tucked her pencil behind her ear. “Sure. What can I tell you?”
“Do you know if the job’s still available, and if it is, when I might be able to talk to the owner?”
The woman looked as if Heather had just offered her a million bucks. “The job’s open and you’re talking to the boss. Let me get that ice cream and coffee and we’ll talk. It’ll give me a chance to get off my feet. The lunch hour was a real bitch today.” She scowled in the direction of the remaining customer as if he were one of the primary offenders. “Half the people couldn’t make up their minds, and the half that could didn’t like what they’d ordered when it turned up. We’ve got a new cook who keeps trying to gussy up the old standards. I almost had a rebellion when he tried to put avocado on the burgers. I should have known better than to hire someone whose last job was in southern California.”
She went back behind the counter to pour the coffee and dish up the ice cream, still pointedly ignoring the man seated on a stool near the register.
“More coffee, Henrietta,” he said.
“You don’t need it,” she retorted. “Besides, you’ve got court in ten minutes.”
“They can’t start without me, can they?” he shot back.
“Might be better if they did,” Henrietta replied.
The man sighed heavily. “Okay, how much do I owe you?”
“Same as yesterday and the day before that. You’re in a rut, old man. Just leave the money on the counter and don’t bother with a tip. I don’t want your handouts.”
She marched past him with Heather’s order. The man watched her starchy movements with a resigned expression, put a couple of bills beside his plate and left.
“Are you that way with all your customers, or is he special?” Heather inquired curiously.
“Foolish old man,” Henrietta muttered, her gaze following him nonetheless. “He’s a judge. Harry Corrigan. Thinks he’s God. I’m here to tell him otherwise.”
Heather hid a smile. “Interesting.”
Henrietta turned her attention from the departing judge to Heather. “I haven’t got time to waste talking about the likes of him. Tell me about you.”
Heather gave her the short version, leaving out any specific mention of Todd. An hour later she had the job, a place to stay—in the rooms upstairs—and a new friend.
“This is just temporary,” Heather reminded her.
“Girl, you’ve told me that half a dozen times. You’ll go when the time is right and I’ll be no worse off than I am today. Who knows, maybe you’ll decide to stay. You could do worse than Whispering Wind. It’s a nice little town for raising kids. And I imagine Buck over at the service station can find you a deal on a used car.”
Heather knew with absolute certainty that staying wasn’t an option, but she’d been as honest about that as she could be. “Thank you. You’ve been very kind.”
“Kindness has nothing to do with it. You’re bailing me out of a jam. I’m tired of working dawn to dusk, seven days a week. Having you around to share the load will be like going on vacation.”
“Maybe so, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it. I never expected to be lucky enough to find work on my first day in town.”
“You want to run across the street and see Jake now, you go right on and do it,” Henrietta told her. To her credit she hadn’t asked Heather why she needed a lawyer when she’d barely set foot in town. “Business won’t pick up for a while yet. I can keep an eye on Angel for you.”
Heather hesitated. She hated taking advantage of a woman who’d already been so generous. “Angel can be a handful,” she warned.
“Believe me, you don’t know the meaning of the word until you meet the two hellions I’ve got living with me.”
“You have kids?” Heather asked, surprised. She would have thought Henrietta was old enough for grandchildren, not little ones of her own.
“Oh, they’re not mine, if that’s what you’re thinking. It’s a long story and best saved for another day. They’ll be along any minute once they’ve finished with their tutor. Both of them are smart as whips, but they missed a lot of classes a while back. They’re getting caught up after regular school lets out. They can keep Angel company till you get back.”
“If you’re sure…”
“Go. You might as well get whatever’s on your mind taken care of. Much as he tries to demonstrate otherwise, Jake’s a good lawyer and a decent man. He’ll do right by you.”
“I won’t be long,” Heather promised. There was no need to reassure Angel about her absence. She’d already crawled into Henrietta’s lap, where she was being rocked to sleep.
Maybe for once in her life, Heather concluded, she had done exactly the right thing. Not only was Angel going to gain a daddy, but it looked as if she was going to pick up an extended family, as well, something there had been little time for Heather to cultivate in New York.
And if the byplay she’d observed between Henrietta and the judge was anything to go by, the next two or three months would be downright entertaining.
The secretary in Jake’s office regarded Heather with fascination.
“Honey, do I know you? You look real familiar to me.”
“I doubt it,” Heather said. “This is the first time I’ve ever been here.”
The woman continued to stare, then snapped her fingers. “Wait. I know who you are. Hold it a sec. It’s right here.” She opened a file drawer in the desk and began tossing things out of it until she finally came up with an old issue of Soap Opera Digest, the one with Heather’s picture on the cover. “I knew it. That’s you, isn’t it?”
Heather couldn’t decide whether to be flattered or dismayed. She had played dozens of parts in her career, but it appeared that that particular one was going to follow her forever. Unfortunately there was no denying that she was the woman on the cover. “Afraid so,” she said finally.
“Well, I’ll be. What on earth are you doing in a one-horse town like Whispering Wind? I’m Flo Olsen, by the way. If you’re here to see Jake, he’s out. Of course, he’s usually out. That man works less than any human being I’ve ever known, and now that Megan’s pregnant, he’s impossible. He hovers over her like he thinks she’s going to break. She keeps calling here and begging me to come up with some big emergency that’ll get him into town and out of her hair, but I ask you, what sort of an emergency is a lawyer likely to have around here?”
Her expression brightened. “Of course, telling him that a famous actress is here to see him ought to do the trick. Just a sec. Have a seat. I’ll track him down.”
Heather sat. Since the only apparent reading material was the soap magazine, she had little to do but stare around at the office, which was surprisingly well-furnished for a man who supposedly did very little work. Suddenly what Flo had said clicked.
“Did you say his wife’s name is Megan?” she asked Flo when the secretary had hung up, her expression triumphant.
“Yes. Megan O’Rourke. I’m sure you’ve heard of her. She’s our very own local celebrity. Have to say she and I didn’t hit it off too well at first. She’s my little girl Tess’s legal guardian. Tess’s father was Megan’s granddaddy. He was taking care of Tess for me when he died, and he specified in his will that Megan was to take over.”
A grin flitted across her face as she told the story. “Sounds like something that would happen on a soap, doesn’t it? Leaving Tess with Tex O’Rourke wasn’t one of my best moments, but everything’s working out now. I get to spend a lot of time with Tess, but Megan and Jake are real good to her. I think things happen for a reason, don’t you?”
