Angel's Rest(62)

“Yeah. Well, so what? Consider this my first dance with my daughter.”

At that, Nic went all gooey and some of her lingering doubts eased. Gabe Callahan was a good man. She tilted her head at him and asked, “What if she’s a he?”

“Well, I grew up going to dance halls in Texas, and believe me, it’s never too early for a guy to learn to two-step.”


Gabe was up on the ladder cutting in paint in a guest room at Angel’s Rest the next morning when his cell phone rang. His sister-in-law was returning his call. He set down the paintbrush, blew out a breath, then answered the phone.

The connection was lousy and he could barely hear Pam’s voice. “Let me call you back from a landline,” he told her. “Give me ten minutes.”

He descended the ladder and tended to his painting supplies, then exited the bedroom. He’d use the phone in the hallway. Celeste had left half an hour ago to get her hair done. He’d have privacy for another half hour at least. He didn’t expect the call to take nearly that long.

He’d be surprised if Pam didn’t hang up on him within two minutes.

Jen’s sister would see this as a betrayal. She might well cut off all contact with him. He could very well lose the only family he had left.

Except you’ll be gaining a new family, won’t you?

“Maybe yes, but maybe no,” he muttered.

Gabe wiped his hands on the rag hanging from his pocket. This phone call would be the most difficult one he’d ever made. At some point during his mostly sleepless night he’d tried to write dialogue for this conversation. It hadn’t gotten much beyond, I’m an idiot. He couldn’t believe he’d been so careless as to put himself into this spot. Pam would rightly give him hell—if she didn’t hang up on him upon hearing that Gabe “had to get married.”

Marriage. He swallowed hard.

He believed he and Nic were doing the right thing. Despite trends in America, illegitimacy could still be a confidence killer for a small-town kid who lived in a flyover state. Gabe had grown up in a small town, a small town even more conservative than Eternity Springs. There had been a couple of kids of divorced parents who’d gone to school with him. He couldn’t think of any whose parents had never married.

He did recall his mother’s reaction when the older sister of one of his friends turned up pregnant in high school and a wedding wasn’t immediately in the offing. A good Catholic girl, his mom had been scandalized. He’d never forget her comment at the dinner table one night when the topic came up for discussion. She’d sniffed with disdain, then said, “First babies can come anytime. The rest of them take nine months.”

That one had him confused for days before one of his brothers explained it to him.

That memory of his mother had helped him make up his mind about what to do. He’d gotten a girl pregnant, so he needed to marry her. Like it or not, he was a responsible party here, and he didn’t shirk his responsibilities. His mom would rise from her grave and pull his ears off his head if he tried. She’d be right to do so.

Downstairs, Gabe eyed the phone on the table as if it were a snake. He absolutely, positively did not want to make this call.

Nevertheless, it had to be done. He had to tell his sister-in-law that he’d slept with someone other than Jennifer. That he’d made a baby with someone other than Jennifer.

That he was marrying someone who wasn’t Jennifer.

Gabe was tempted to lean over and beat his head against the banister. A baby. Against his will, Gabe remembered holding Jennifer’s back as the labor nurse ordered, Push, Jenny, push. Bringing Matt home, setting him in the nursery’s bay window to let the sunshine do its magic on his jaundice. Jen in the rocking chair, a madonna with a babe at her breast.

He had a mental flash of Nic’s bare breasts, then he closed his eyes and groaned. He needed a shrink. Of course, he was out of luck in that regard here in Eternity Springs. Closest thing they had to a psychologist was a vet. The same vet who’d created his need for a doctor in the first place.

Gabe picked up the phone, dialed the number, then stretched the long phone cord to take a seat on the stairs four steps from the bottom. Pam answered on the third ring. They spoke about Nathan and the rehab on his leg for a few moments, then, when Gabe was trying to find the words to get started, Pam said, “Okay, Callahan. You obviously have something on your mind. What is it? Spill.”

Holding the phone to his left ear, his elbows propped on his knees, Gabe held his head with his right hand and closed his eyes. He should have snagged a water bottle before making this call. His mouth was as dry as the West Texas desert.