you’ll never understand. She hasn’t lost her drive. She’s refocused it. She makes every decision now with the baby foremost in her mind. You’ll do well to remember that.” She gave his cheek a pat, and a wistful look came into her eyes. “Now tell me about this marriage proposal I didn’t even know was in the works.”
Chance leaned against the counter and studied the texture in the granite floor. “I didn’t know it was in the works, either. She told me she was pregnant, and I figured it was what needed to be done, so I just sort of blurted it out. Insisted, actually.” His mom tilted her head. “Okay, demanded.”
Emily Brennan gave a sarcastic snort. “How romantic. Sounds like every woman’s dream proposal.”
“She just makes me crazy, Mom.”
“Love makes us all crazy.”
Love?
Nobody had said anything about love…except Kyndal. “She said the love I felt for her when we were kids was ineffectual because I left her, anyway.” He grimaced, realizing how much it sounded like he was tattling.
His mother laughed, a pleasant sound even with its scolding implication. “‘Ineffectual,’ huh? Well, she hasn’t lost her way with words. But why did she say that?” She raised a knowing eyebrow. “And the bigger question is why did you sabotage the proposal? I mean, even a spontaneous one can be the sweet, down-on-one-knee kind every woman dreams of. What held you back?”
He hadn’t seen this kind of intensity in his mom’s eyes in years. There was life in them, and they were boring a hole into his soul and opening him up, just as Kyndal did. “I’m afraid.” Were those actually tears blurring his vision? His normally strong voice came out as a strained whisper. “What if she’s not the woman I need in my life?”
His mom’s eyes softened with her smile. “The time will come, sweetheart, when you’ll know with certainty who you don’t need in your life and who you do. If you love her, you need her.”
That word again.
A vision of them in the cave flashed through his mind—in the ancient room when he thought he was going to lose her, he’d told her he loved her. She had been the only thing keeping him going then, the only thing he needed. And now nothing was more important than the baby—and she was the only one who could give him this child. Thoughts of holding her—making love to her—pulled at his heart. He didn’t only need her, he wanted her. An understanding of how much solidified in his mind and his heart.
“Oh, God, Mom, I love her.” The words closed his throat with emotion.
“But it can’t be ineffectual love.” Her tender smile brought tears to his eyes again. “There has to be purpose behind it. Love isn’t a word, Chance. Saying it is easy. But it takes actions to prove it.”
Even though he knew it wouldn’t last, for tonight, for this moment, he felt at peace.
His mom picked up the pecan pie and waved it in front of his face. “I don’t think we need more gravy. But it may be time for dessert. What do you say?”
The buttery, sweet scent made his mouth water, but he couldn’t truly enjoy the luscious dessert until he got the bitter taste out of his mouth. “I say, cut me a big piece. I’ll be back in a minute. I have a quick call I need to make.”
He stepped out the back door and punched Kyndal’s number into his phone.
It rang quite a few times. When she didn’t answer, the machine instructed him to leave a message.
“Kyn, it’s Chance. Today’s Thanksgiving and I wanted you to know how thankful I am you chose to have this baby…our baby. We’ll work things out.”
He stopped there, not saying the rest of what he was thankful for—the job she was pursuing was in Paducah so the baby would be near him at all times.
And so would she.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
BUSINESS WAS SLOW THE first day, and Kyndal was grateful. Lumbering around the crowded back corner of Pet Me, which had been transformed into Santa’s workshop, with a cast on her foot was a daunting task. But the added benefit of being located close to the employee bathroom gave the small nook a certain ambiance.
The festive red-and-green-striped elf costume with its pointy shoes, pointy hat and pointy green velvet vest all decked out in bells jangled constantly and made her feel more like a court jester. But she convinced herself the jingles were synonymous with paychecks,