Baby Makes a Match

Chandler sat up, trying to catch his breath. Garrett the gardener had attacked him? He glared up at the dark-haired man towering uncertainly over him. Willows. Garrett Willows. Wasn’t that what Magnolia had said? Was he Bethany’s husband, then? The idea seriously rankled.

Chandler shoved up to his feet and pointed a finger. “He attacked me!”

“Chandler?”

Hearing Bethany’s voice, Chandler whirled. She stood beneath the porte cochere with Hypatia and Odelia, her cornflower blue eyes wide.

“Why are you fighting with my brother?”

Brother. He glanced at Garrett Willows. His aunts’ gardener was Bethany’s brother?

She looked as stunned as Chandler felt—and stunning. In dark brown leggings and a long pink top with tiny puffed sleeves, her dark hair a silken fall to her shoulders, she looked wholesome and healthy and radiant. And pregnant, he reminded himself. And the sister of Garrett Willows, not the wife.

Chandler folded his arms and glared at his opponent. It wouldn’t do to smile at such a moment. It wouldn’t do at all.

Only a few moments earlier, in company with Hypatia and Odelia, Bethany had been on her way to the sunroom for breakfast. Then a grim-lipped Magnolia had emerged from the kitchen with a broom in hand, exclaiming that she had seen “them” fighting when she’d gone out to water the pot plants on the stoop. She’d stomped off toward the side door; Hypatia and Odelia had promptly followed, leaving a curious Bethany to bring up the rear. Bursting from the house, she’d seen two men rolling around on the ground and hitting each other. Magnolia had surged forward and smacked them both with her broom. When they’d fallen apart, Bethany had been shocked to see that one of them was her brother! And the other…Chandler! Chandler Chatam?

She shook her head. “I—I don’t understand.”

Her brother cast her a hooded glance and started to beat the dust from his jeans and bright blue T-shirt.

“Well, that makes two of us,” Chandler said, glaring at Garrett. “What possessed you to come after me like that?”

Garrett ducked his head, muttering sullenly, “I saw you hiding in your truck around the corner of the building, and—”

“I wasn’t hiding!” Chandler interrupted. “I was sleeping. I got back late and didn’t want to wake anyone. I parked back there because I knew my aunts wouldn’t want the horse trailer sitting where it could be seen from the street.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that?” Garrett snapped. To Bethany’s shock, Garrett turned on her, demanding, “How on earth did you get involved with a Chatam, anyway?”

Before Bethany could answer, Hypatia stepped up and asked, “Do you two know each other?”

“No!” Bethany exclaimed.

At the same time, Chandler said, “Yes.”

Odelia giggled and clapped a lace hanky between her hands, looking from one of her sisters to the other. “Didn’t I tell you?”

Bethany had no idea what she was talking about, but it was difficult to take her seriously when she wore vivid yellow-and-white awning stripes, culminating with earrings fashioned to resemble stylized suns. They were almost as large as the visible ball in the sky overhead.

Hypatia made an exasperated sound and looked from Bethany to Chandler. “It can’t be both.”

“He told me his name was Chandler,” Bethany blurted defensively.

“And it is,” he drawled. “Hubner Chandler Chatam the third.”

“You never said Chatam!” Bethany insisted.

“Oh, my word,” Magnolia muttered.

Chandler sighed. “Look, it’s just one of those crazy coincidences. I picked her up alongside the road about halfway between here and Houston.”

“You were hitchhiking?” Garrett roared at her.

“No! I was trying to buy a bus ticket in a diner.”

“But he said he picked you up alongside the road.”

“The diner was alongside the road,” Chandler stated pointedly.

“I don’t care how you met him!” Garrett bawled. “What matters is that he’s the father of your baby!”

There were audible gasps. Bethany gulped. Oh, how had this all gotten so muddled?

Chandler glared at her. “Did you tell him that I was the father?”

“No! I just didn’t say that you aren’t the father.”

He parked his hands at his waist. “Come again?”

She opened her mouth to explain, heat burning her cheeks, when a pain seized her, so unexpected that she doubled over. “Ow!”

Both men rushed forward. Four strong arms surrounded her.

“Sis!”

“Bethany!”

“Ohhh,” she moaned. “I-It’s just a c-cramp.”

“Bring her inside,” Hypatia instructed smartly.

Chandler stepped back so Garrett could sweep her up in his arms, but the cramp was already waning.

“It’s all right,” she gasped. “Really. I—I can walk.”

Everyone ignored her, moving en masse toward the house. Chandler leaped ahead and held open the bright yellow door as the sisters swept through. On their heels, Garrett carried Bethany inside, striding swiftly down the shadowy back hall to the family room.

“Honestly,” she protested. “You don’t have to carry me.”

“It’s either him or me,” Chandler growled.

Bethany glanced over Garrett’s shoulder at him. Despite needing a shave and looking somewhat haggard, the man was handsome enough to make a girl’s heart go pitter-patter. And a Chatam! Her mind whirling, she quickly looked away.

Garrett carried her to a plush love seat, which matched the oversize sofa in the center of the room, where he at last set her on her feet. Stalling for time, Bethany tugged at the hem of her tunic and adjusted the tiny, puffed sleeves before smoothing her hands across the thighs of her brown knit leggings before sitting down. The Chatam sisters primly seated themselves on the full-length sofa. The men stood opposite each other, arms folded.

“Now, then,” Hypatia said calmly, “I think we all need to know just who the father of this child is.”

Bethany bowed her head. Could the situation be any more mortifying? It wasn’t just embarrassing, though; it was dangerous, and she had to think of her child first.