CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
She was pregnant. Looking at the little white stick, Hope willed it to change color. It didn’t.
She’d left it a few more days, hoping the sickness she felt in the mornings would pass. It hadn’t. Moaning, she fell onto the toilet seat and put her head between her knees. Dear Christ, what did she do now? She needed air. Suddenly the walls of her mother’s bathroom were closing in on her. Stuffing her feet into her boots, she shouted a goodbye to her mother, who was gardening, then let herself out the front door. Pressing a fist to her chest, she tried to ease the panic inside her.
She had to tell Newman, and she had to do it now before she chickened out. Walking up the drive she headed right instead of left, which would take her into town. At the end of the street, she found a narrow track that would lead to the trails. Today there was no peace in the solitude that surrounded her.
At least John had told her that he wouldn’t need her for a few days as he was being flown around the area by Ethan or Brad, looking for other locations.
“What the hell am I going to do now?”
“My guess is walk the trails. But then I’m not always right.”
“Jesus, Faith!” Hope’s heart was thudding so hard it hurt. “What the hell are you doing skulking about here?” Hope looked at her friend’s walking clothes. Anyone looking at her couldn’t help but know what she was doing.
“Okay, don’t answer that.”
“You okay, Hope?”
“Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”
Faith took a closer look at Hope. “You look a bit odd.”
“No, I don’t.”
“No, you do.”
“Whatever.” Hope waved her words away. “I’m going for a walk.”
“That’s the outfit for it.” Faith lifted a hand and walked around Hope, then disappeared down the trail she’d just walked up. Looking at herself, Hope realized that maybe her old T-shirt, which came to midthigh and had Oscar the Grouch on the front saying “I’d rather live in a can”, wasn’t usual walking attire.
“What the hell,” Hope muttered. Her day wasn’t going to plan anyway, and people already thought her weird.
She walked on, and was soon sweating. Thoughts came and went, but the main two that remained lodged in her head were, she had to tell Newman, and she was keeping this baby.
She was having a baby!
An hour later that thought and not much else was still ricocheting around inside her head. She’d come up with no plan for her future, or if she would leave Howling or stay.
Reaching the peak, Hope realized she hadn’t walked up here in years, and even then, she hadn’t come up this high. She saw the water below, and more spectacular scenery, then cut right, and came across another trail that she hoped went down.
Raising a child here would make sense. It was secure, her mother was here, and plenty of people she knew who would support her. Newman was also here. If he married someone else, or actually settled down with a woman, then she’d see him. Was that a problem? She realized it could be, because she felt more for him than she should.
“And that makes no sense.”
The path came to a fork. She went left, and ended up on another ridge. This one looked back down on Lake Howling. Hope couldn’t remember ever coming up here, and when she saw the house she realized she hadn’t seen that before either.
The front of the roof was slightly higher than the back, in soft gray slate. Hope imagined windows offering spectacular views of the water and mountains on the side she couldn’t see, and maybe even a peek at the town of Howling. The wooden exterior had faded to a silvery gray, and blended into its surrounds with ease. Large and single-storied, it hugged the ridge. Whoever had designed it had done so with the environment in mind.
Walking slowly forward, she followed the stone driveway to the edge and studied it more closely. Would it be rude to walk around the front and take a look?
“Hey.”
Newman appeared around the side, reaching her in seconds with his slow, easy gait. He wore jeans, old and faded, and a loose cotton button-front shirt. Only the bottom two buttons were done up. His hair was a mess, and he looked sexy. Which just pissed her off, because Hope could never throw on clothes and look anything but a mess. And his sexiness had gotten her in the mess she was in.
“How come you’re up here?”
Hope took a step backward. It was instinctive, but his eyes narrowed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” Her voice was far too squeaky.
“Hope.”
“I—ah, have to go.”
He grabbed her wrist and stopped her, his eyes roaming her face and down her T-shirt.
“Nice outfit. That shirt rocks with the boots.”
“I really have to go, Newman.”
“Why? I thought your hero was out of town today?”
“Hero?”
“The revered Mr. Finch.”
“John is a very nice man.”
“I know, you’ve told me and anyone else who will listen. Then there’s the hours you spend hanging on his every word.”
“What are you talking about?” Hope looked at him. His eyes were narrowed, and he looked seriously annoyed.
“You’re making a fool of yourself over that man.”
Hope wrenched her arm free. “I cannot believe you’re jealous.”
His face closed up like a clam.
“So am not.”
She had no reason to laugh because her life could be termed a disaster, but Hope found herself doing just that.
“You’re an idiot, and I don’t have time for this.”
“You came here,” he pointed out.
“I didn’t. I was walking, and ended up here, please note the difference.”
“So maybe I was a bit.”
“A bit what?”
“Jealous, all right. Shit, do you want me to spell it out?”
It was so strange to see Newman flustered, she took pity on him.
“No, and yes. I have something to tell you.” She had to do this now; it was only fair.
He didn’t speak, just looked at her, then he held out a hand.
“Want to have a look inside?” He nodded to the house behind him. “I have lemonade, and you look like you could use a glass.”
She had to tell him, she just had to. Hope nodded, and he stepped aside, motioning her to go first. Hope tried to relax, but was sure her back looked rigid.
“I built it five years ago. It sits in here nice, don’t you think?”
“It’s beautiful,” Hope said honestly. It was something she’d build, if she could ever afford to build a house.
They rounded the front and she saw the windows. They stretched the entire front of the house and were glass from floor to ceiling. The middle section was open wide with bifold doors.
“Wow.”
“That’s how I feel every time I come home.”
A deck ran along the front, and beyond it just grass. It was beautiful in its simplicity, because the view did the rest, and when you looked behind you, there was the magic of the house.
“It’s really something,” Hope said when she could think of nothing else. “Willow and Buster’s wedding will be amazing here.”
“That’s the arch I’m building for them.”
It was slightly to one side, and once again simple, in the same wood as the house.
“Willow wants flowers and greenery all over it. We’ll set up the chairs either side of the aisle and run a carpet down the middle.”
“She asked me to do the photos.” Hope wandered over to the edge of the lawn to inspect the view and put some distance between herself and him.
“I know, and you’ll be amazing at them.”
“I’ve never done a wedding. It seems so much responsibility. What if I mess them up?”
“Have you ever messed up?”
She shook her head. He was close now, standing at her back.
“Talk to me, Hope.”
“I’m pregnant.”
Hope closed her eyes as he sucked in a deep breath, almost like she’d punched him hard in the stomach.
Newman was the man who always knew what to say, especially when it was to make someone he cared about feel better, but right at that moment, he was at a loss for words.
“It’s a shock, take your time. I nearly puked.” Her words penetrated the terror of what he’d just learned.
“Jesus,” he managed to wheeze out.
Her shoulders were hunched and she was looking out at the lake. He was in shock; he could only imagine what she was going through, seeing as she had to carry the baby.
“I’m not getting rid of it, Newman.”
“You think I’d want you to?” He hadn’t meant to raise his voice.
She spun to face him. “I don’t know anything about you. How could I? We’re not friends. In fact, we have nothing in common!”
He was going to be a father . Newman tried to get his head around that fact. Father… me!
“We need to talk about this,” he managed to get out in a tight voice as he battled the panic.
“What’s to talk about? I’m pregnant, you’re the father.” Her eyes widened. “Do you think I… that there was another man?”
“No. Christ, Hope, give me a minute here. My life is about to change, I need to come to grips with that.”
“ Your life’s about to change?”
Newman winced as she screeched the words at him.
“You’ll pay for support and see the child, but that’s it. It’s me whose life will change.”
“No.” Newman shook his head. “We need to—”
“If you even mention the word marry, I’m punching you.”
Newman realized now was not the time to have any discussion. They were both still off-balance. Both saying irrational things.
“We need to discuss this, but not now. Now we need time to adjust,” Newman said as calmly as he could. It didn’t calm Hope.
“You can’t fix this, Newman. You can’t apply your logic or make it all better! Mr. Do-Good can’t make this better, or go away.”
“I know that!”
She was angry. Angry and terrified. And Newman felt the same, and he could add numb to that.
“I need to go.”
“Where?” He grabbed her again.
“Away from you. I need to think.”
“Don’t leave Howling.”
She stopped fighting him, her eyes wide as she looked at him.
“Do you believe so little of me, that I would run with your child inside me?”
Did he? Was he that untrusting of her, or women in general? He didn’t think so. Newman had always believed he loved women. She didn’t wait for his answer. Shrugging out of his grasp, she ran away from him, and he let her. Newman then simply sat where he was on the grass, put his head in his hands, and tried to form a rational thought.