The Widow's Little Secret

Mattie gazed up at Jared and jerked her chin. “Yes, my little secret.”

This baby could have been Del’s, if they’d had a normal husband-wife relationship. The town didn’t know any differently, and Mattie had decided to let them believe it.

After all, telling the truth would label her baby a bastard. What kind of choice was that?

“Did you ever intend to tell me?” Jared asked.

She turned away. “No. I was never going to tell you.”

Jared drew in a big breath, then let it out slowly, as if he’d come to terms with everything she’d said, made some sort of decision about it.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Mattie frowned. “Go? Go where?”

“To the church.”

“Whatever for?” she asked.

“We’re getting married.”

Chapter Four

“Married?”

“Yes. Married,” Jared said. He took her hand. “Right now.”

She pulled away from him. “I’m not going to marry you.”

“Yes, you are.” He eased closer, crowding her. “You’re carrying a baby. My baby. I’m taking responsibility for what I did and we’re getting married.”

“Nobody knows it’s your baby. I told you, the whole town thinks it’s Del’s.”

“I know it’s mine.” Jared tapped his finger against his chest. “I’m not turning my back on you, or this baby.”

Mattie lifted her chin. “I don’t want your help.”

“Maybe you don’t want it but you sure as hell need it,” Jared told her. He looked her up and down. “You’re sick as a dog. You’re pale. You’ve lost weight. You can’t keep anything down.”

For a lawman, he certainly knew a lot about having babies. Or he was just observant.

“Yes,” Mattie admitted. “I’ve been sick. But that will pass.”

“And you’re dead tired, aren’t you? You can’t make it through the day without lying down.”

“If I have time I lie down, but I’m usually too busy at the restaurant.”

“And what effect do you think that’s having on the baby?” he challenged.

Mattie turned away from those fierce blue eyes of his, uncomfortable under his gaze. She tried to think of a reasonable response, but couldn’t.

Finally she said, “Just because I’m sick and I need to take a nap is no reason for us to get married, of all things.”

“Yes, it is,” Jared told her. “It’s the best reason. The only reason. I’m marrying you so I can take care of you, and make sure our baby comes into this world healthy.”

“But—”

“It’s the right thing to do.” Jared gave her a brisk nod. “And you know it.”

She’d worried about all those things. Dr. Whittaker, Mrs. Nance at the restaurant—along with most every other woman in town—had cautioned her over and over again to take it easy.

She did feel terrible. She was worn out by midafternoon. Was she being thoughtless? Was she being a bad mother? Was she jeopardizing her unborn child?

More than anything, she wanted her baby to be healthy. Nothing was more important.

Jared seemed to read those feelings in her expression. He pulled on his hat and opened the back door. “Let’s go.”

Mattie hesitated a moment. “But—”

“This isn’t about you and me,” Jared told her. “It’s about the baby.”

What could she say to that? Mattie walked out ahead of him.

Just beyond the gate in the white picket fence that surrounded her house, Mattie slowed, gazing toward Main Street. Jared was a few paces ahead of her. He stopped and turned back.

“What about the Cottonwood?” Mattie asked. “What about my restaurant?”

“Close it.”

“Close it?” Mattie shook her head, stunned by the thought. “How am I supposed to support myself? What am I supposed to do for money?”

“I’ll take care of you.”

Her gaze roamed once more to the Cottonwood Café. Close it? Walk away? It had belonged to her parents. She’d worked there with them, side by side, with so many wonderful memories. She’d turned the place around and built it into the most popular eatery in Stanford.

But that was before.

Images of Del Ingram floated in Mattie’s mind. He’d drained every cent from her bank account without her knowing it. Had left her penniless. He’d also run up some sizable debts around town, debts she was saddled with.

With no money, she’d been unable to buy meat and poultry to serve to her diners. It hadn’t taken long before her soups and vegetable platters lost favor with her customers. With no sausage or bacon on the menu, the businessmen who’d made the Cottonwood their spot for breakfast stopped coming.

She’d had to let her serving girls and dishwasher go, and take on those chores herself. She held on to Mrs. Nance by a thread, paying her salary with what little money she took in; if the Silver Bell Restaurant on the other end of town hired her away, Mattie would be lost for sure.

Her business had spiraled downward for months, since Del’s death. For a moment, Mattie considered doing as Jared said, closing it. Free herself from the work, the worry. Could she do that?

Mattie shook her head. “I can’t close the Cottonwood. I just can’t.”

Jared’s brows drew together; obviously he was unhappy with her decision. “Then let Mrs. Nance run it. Or open it only part of the day. Hire more help. You can keep it open, but you’re not going to be over there all the time.”