Chapter Six
Dillon was upstairs getting dressed and Riley was fixing French toast for Easter Sunday breakfast when her phone buzzed with a text from Josh.
We need to talk.
She hit the call icon. When he picked up, she said, “We talked just last night, remember?”
“Well, I need to talk some more. When can we do that?”
“Josh. It’s Easter. I have to be at Annette’s in an hour. We’re going to church and then back to her house, where Dillon will hunt Easter eggs in the backyard.”
He just went right on. “Tomorrow night, then? Or Tuesday night? Shane’s with Lenore this week, so any night is good.
Just let me know when Dillon is tucked in bed, and I’m on my way.
I won’t put a move on you, promise. I just want to talk…
” He sounded so sincere, and she loved that about him. He was honest to the core.
She flipped the French toast. “I’m feeling a little bit overwhelmed, that’s all.”
A silence on his end. Then, in a careful tone, “You need some space, is that what you’re saying?”
Did she need space?
Yeah. She did.
A few days of distance would be a good thing, a few days during which she wouldn’t have to talk to him about the baby, wouldn’t be required to come to any sort of agreement or to make plans for their future as co-parents.
A few days where she could take a breath, decompress—and yeah, pretend that nothing had changed.
“How about Friday evening?” she offered.
After a slight hesitation, he replied, “Friday works.” Did he sound disappointed that she’d put him off until then? Yes, Friday did seem a long way away. But she did need a little distance. In recent months, they’d been together every chance they got.
“All right then,” she said. “I’ll text you Friday evening once Dillon’s in bed. Have a good week, Josh.”
“You, too.”
* * *
Friday night…
Josh scowled as Riley ended the call. He did not want to wait six full days to see her. He and Riley had a whole lot to talk about, and he needed to see her right now.
But he wasn’t going to see her now. Because she required space—from him of all people.
Yeah, okay. She had every damn right to need space. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. He tossed his phone on the kitchen table, dropped into a chair and sat there scowling at nothing for a good ten minutes.
He was sulking, plain and simple. So shoot him. Riley had a right to her space—and he had a right to sulk alone in his quiet kitchen like an overgrown child.
He sat there for a while longer trying to decide whether or not to add whiskey to his second mug of morning coffee. Getting drunk at eight on Easter Sunday morning wasn’t exactly a good idea. But it did go well with his current mood.
The doorbell rang.
He scowled all the harder. He wasn’t expecting anyone. He didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. Right now, he needed to be alone and feel sorry for himself.
Maybe if he just sat there and waited, his uninvited guest would just go away.
The doorbell rang again.
“Fine,” he grumbled to the empty kitchen as he pushed back his chair.
The last person he expected to see was standing on the other side when he opened the front door.
She had a dog with her, for some reason.
A male with tan and white markings and the look of an overlarge beagle.
No collar or tags, but the dog certainly seemed to know how to behave.
It sat tall at her feet, head up, panting a little, as though really hoping to be invited inside.
“Hello, Joshua,” Annette Thompson said. “Beautiful property you have here.” She patted the dog on the head.
The animal glanced up at her adoringly. “And I love your dog, though you really must put a collar and tags on this fine fellow—and perhaps keep a closer eye on him. I found him wandering your access road.”
As though on cue, the dog whined and swept his tail back and forth on the mat.
Josh found his voice. “Hello, Annette. What a surprise…”
“Joshua, I don’t have much time. I must return to my house quickly. Riley and Dillon are coming over. We’re riding together to Easter services at eleven. So this won’t take long. But we do need to talk, you and I. May I come in?”
“Uh. All right.” He stepped back, and she entered, the dog right behind her. Josh was too befuddled by Annette’s unexpected arrival to explain that he hadn’t meant she should bring the dog in, too.
But what the hell? The dog was clean and calm. He didn’t seem prone to running wild or chewing the furniture.
“Your house is beautiful,” said Annette. “I love this soaring ceiling. And the property… Joshua. What a find.”
“Thank you. I love it here.” He led her to the kitchen, “Have a seat.” She took a chair at the table. The dog dropped to his haunches beside her. “Coffee?” he suggested.
“Perfect. With a little milk if you have some.”
He poured her a mugful and put the milk in front of her.
Then he took his seat again. Sipping the last of his own cooling coffee, he waited for her to begin.
But the moment stretched out as both she and the unknown, untagged dog sat calmly and stared at him.
A beago, he found himself thinking. Definitely.
The dog looked like a cross between a beagle and a golden retriever.
She petted the animal’s head again and asked, “What’s his name?”
“The truth is, Annette, I have no idea what his name is because I’ve never seen him before.”
“Ah.” She frowned. “Do you want me to put him back outside?”
The dog had big, intelligent amber eyes. He looked from Annette to Josh and back to Annette again—as though he understood what was being said and really hoped he would not be put out the door.
“No,” said Josh. “He seems like a good guy. I’ll, uh, take care of him.” Maybe someone would come by in search of him. “You think he’s hungry?”
“I’m sure I have no idea.”
“I’ve got some leftover pot roast in the fridge…”
Annette sat calmly sipping her coffee as he set out a bowl of water and then quickly cut up some meat.
“Here you go, boy…” He set the plate of food on the floor.
The dog quivered but remained at attention beside Annette.
“Come on. It’s okay. Eat…”
Cautiously, tail tucked, the dog got to his feet and approached the plate.
“Eat,” Josh said again.
That did it. The dog scarfed down the food. Once he’d licked the plate clean, the dog drank from the water bowl. Then he returned to his post beside Annette.
Annette patted his head again and tried, “Lie down.” The dog stretched out and put his head on his paws.
“Good boy.” Her gaze swung to Josh. “I would take him home with me. But I’m at the hotel day in and day out.
I’m sure he would be happier here with you and your son.
A fine dog like this deserves a family.”
What could he say? He liked the dog, too. “You can leave him with me. I’ll look after him and try to find his owner…”
“And if no owner can be found, you will adopt him.” It wasn’t a question.
But what the hell. Why not? Shane had asked for a dog more than once. And Josh had been thinking about getting one. He’d put off making a move because he dreaded having to train a puppy. But this dog was better behaved than most humans.
“Sure,” he said. “If no one claims him, I’ll adopt him.”
That coaxed a big smile from Annette. “I’m so pleased to hear that—and now, Joshua, there’s a delicate matter I need to discuss with you. The problem is, I don’t know how to begin, and I am very well aware that this isn’t my business…”
Well, that didn’t sound good. “And yet, you’re here to talk about it anyway?”
Annette gave a wry little nod. “Yes. Yes, I am. Joshua, I love my daughter-in-law. And she’s pregnant—by you.”
He wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. Was she trying to intimidate him? “Not pulling any punches, are you, Annette?”
“Am I wrong?”
“Nope. You’ve got it right.”
“Joshua, I want the best for Riley and for your coming child.”
“I’m sure you do. But we both need to keep in mind that what’s best for Riley is for Riley to decide…”
“Of course it’s for her to decide,” said Annette primly. “I’m merely asking about you.”
“In what way?”
“What are your intentions?”
His intentions? “Annette. I like you. But you’re stepping over the line here.”
“Perhaps. I do love her, Joshua. She’s brave and kind and good. She’ll do anything for the people she loves. She is my daughter in all the ways that matter. She’s also my dearest friend. And my business partner, too. And, well, has she told you yet that she will never get marr—?”
“Stop. Please. My intentions, as you put it, are for me to share with Riley. Right now, I can’t tell you how things will work out.”
“But you care about her. You want to do right by her.”
“Yes, on both counts. But all that is between Riley and me. You can’t make our decisions for us.”
“Well.” Annette seemed thoughtful. “That’s unfortunate. It’s obvious that I know what you should do—and yet you won’t even hear what I have to say.”
She did have a point. And he could take whatever she dished out. “All right. Go ahead, Annette. Say what you came to say.”
“Thank you, I will. Convince her to marry you. Be a husband she can count on and a father to your coming child. Make a family—you, Riley, your two boys and the baby.”
“When you lay it out like that, it sounds so simple.”
“Because it is. Or at least it can be if both of you will just let it happen.” Annette pushed back her chair.
“Well,” she said briskly, straightening her lavender skirt, smoothing her hands down the fitted matching jacket.
“I suppose I can’t ask you to keep this conversation just between the two of us… ”
He really did like her. A lot. “Nice try, Annette.”
“My goodness. She’s going to be very annoyed with me now.”
He didn’t comment on that prediction. He had no idea how Riley would react when he told her that Annette had been to see him—let alone, the things Annette had just said.