hands went to her cheeks. “This is great news. Laela needs a sibling, and now I’ll have two great-grandchildren.”
Alana leaned over and gave Bridget a hug. “I’m so happy for you.”
Pax pushed back his chair and hugged Bridget on his way to clamp a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Congratulations.” Pax smiled. “We called the name first, but nothing says we can’t turn our name around to Matthew Thomas, and both of us use Grandpa’s name.”
“He’d be bustin’ the buttons off his shirt with pride,” Iris said.
“Great news.” Matt was on his feet next and shook hands with both Bridget and Maverick. “You kids are a lucky couple and some fine parents already.”
“I might have a girl,” Bridget reminded them.
“Or we might have one on our first try too,” Pax said.
The conversation turned to whether Bridget would have her baby on Thanksgiving Day, since her due date was close to then. Iris wanted to know all the details, like when she’d been to the doctor and was she using Doctor Wilson.
Alana listened to the conversation going on around her, but she didn’t care about all the particulars. She was glad that the spotlight was off what she and Pax had been arguing about. It was still her intention to come clean after her visit to Doctor Wilson, whatever the test results revealed. She simply couldn’t carry the guilt of their deception another two weeks.
“Twenty-four hours,” Pax whispered in her ear and then kissed her on the cheek.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.
“Give us until this time tomorrow to think about what you’re about to do. If you’re still set on telling Matt, then I’ll go with you. He deserves to hear it from both of us,” Pax said for her ears only.
Alana agreed with a nod. She hadn’t planned to talk to her father until afternoon anyway, and Pax should be there when she did. True enough, it had been her idea, but Pax hadn’t hesitated a single second when he agreed to play along. She would know for sure exactly what to tell both of them tomorrow.
“And one more thing while the attention is on Bridget. Have you taken a pregnancy test yet?” Pax asked, his head close to Alana’s.
“Okay, you two lovebirds, what are you whispering about, now?” Bridget asked.
“I was telling Pax that we’ll talk about when to start a family later. Right now, I’m starving and I want a big plate of chicken and dressing with all the sides,” she answered. “I’ve never learned to make good dressing. I always put too much sage in it.”
“I’ll teach you at Thanksgiving,” Iris offered. “It took me years to get it right. Here come our drinks. Better be making your decisions about dinner.”
“Thank you.” Alana wondered if Iris would even want her in the Callahan house when she found out what she and Pax had done.
The waitress passed their drinks around and then took out her order pad and pen. “Y’all ready?”
Pax went first. “I want the Sunday special, only instead of green beans, I want corn.”
When she’d written down all their orders, the waitress rushed off to the kitchen.
Matt picked up his glass of tea. “A toast. To the new baby.”
They all clinked glasses together and then took a sip of their tea.
Iris raised her glass. “Another toast. To Pax and Alana. We’re glad you two finally woke up and realized you were meant to be together.”
“Amen!” Matt touched his glass with Pax’s. “Love her. Cherish her. And may y’all celebrate your fiftieth anniversary with your children beside you and your grandchildren playing in the front yard of the Bar C Ranch.”
“Hear, hear!” Iris stood up and touched her glass to Alana’s.
A visual popped into Alana’s mind. Pax as sitting on the porch with her. Three or four of their grown children gathered around them, and a whole horde of little grandchildren playing chase on the front lawn. The picture warmed her heart. But it wasn’t enough to keep her from feeling like the biggest hypocrite in the whole state of Texas.
Chapter Eighteen
Alana had read somewhere that guilt was the strongest of all the emotions, and the toughest to get past. The peace that she’d felt from making the decision to come clean with her father had been short-lived. Now it had been replaced by a heavy feeling in her chest that she was afraid would never leave, no matter what she did or didn’t do.
Damned if you do; damned if you don’t, went through her