Devyn
Skylar looks at one of the pillows I embroidered. “This is fabulous. Where did you learn how to do this?”
“I, uh… taught myself.”
“It appears you have many talents.”
“Thank you.” We leave the last guest suite. “That does it for up here.”
She stops at a door. “What’s in here?”
“The attic.”
“Is it big?”
“Very.”
“Show me. Attics sometimes have the most character of any building.”
“Okay.” I open the door and lead her up, trying to remember if I left any evidence of my having lived up there.
At the top of the stairs, she glances around. “This is amazing.” She runs a finger along the top edge of one of the large portraits stored here. “I’m glad Aaron didn’t throw these away. I’ll bet this man was the original owner or something. There’s probably a lot of history up here.”
She has no idea just how much.
She strolls around, peering out each window, taking it all in. “You can see Aaron’s cabin from this one.”
I peek around her as if this is news to me. “I guess you can.”
“Oh, wow, this window is fabulous,” she says. “If I’d lived here as a kid, you can bet I would have sneaked out this one to lay under the stars.”
I have to bite my tongue and hide my smile. Then something on the floor catches my attention. It’s an old condom wrapper. I nonchalantly shuffle over and kick it behind the bookshelf. Skylar pretends she doesn’t see, but I catch her grin.
“You two should do something with this. There’s so much space.”
“I’m not sure what we’d do with it.”
“You’ll think of something, I’m sure.”
I catch my foot on the edge of the bookcase and almost fall. Might not be as embarrassing as the condom wrapper, but I don’t need Skylar thinking I’m a slut and a klutz.
We go back downstairs and tour the grand hall, the sitting room, the living room, and the office. Back in the kitchen, she asks, “What’s down this hall?”
“My room. Do you want to see it?”
“The tour wouldn’t be complete without it.”
Thankful I made my bed and tidied up this morning, I step into my room, and she follows. She glances at a string of lights I recently hung. “I like it.” She admires the old sewing machine and then goes to my nightstand and picks up the book on constellations. “You’re a fellow admirer of stars. You’ve been out the window, haven’t you?”
I nod. “It’s why I hung the lights. Makes it seem like I’m outside when I can’t be.”
“Speaking of outside, how about you show me the grounds? We have time before the guys return.”
“We don’t have any horses here.”
She laughs. “Oh, Lord. I don’t think I could even get up on one. I meant let’s go for a short walk, if that’s okay with you.”
We go outside, past Aaron’s cabin to the start of one of the trails. She tells me about her restaurant and her daughter, Gracie, who’s nineteen years old and going to NYU. Nineteen. I think of all the horrible things that happened when Aaron, Joe, and I were that age. I pray Gracie has a much better year.
I find it interesting, however, that Skylar doesn’t ask me many personal questions. No prodding me about what my parents do or if I have any siblings. No quizzing me about my childhood or where I grew up. Not a single question about what I did before I set foot on the ranch, other than asking about my sewing skills.
Aaron must have told them something to keep her from asking; but what and how much?
We stop at a place where we can see one of the pastures, where a few mares graze while their new foals play.
“Look at that,” she says. “How old are those baby horses?”
I point. “That one is a month old. His name is Coconut. And the filly over there is Milly Mouse.”
“Funny names for horses.”
“Those are their nicknames. Their papered names are Sir Coco Del Naught and Millisandra Mousilini.”
“Papered?” She laughs. “I won’t even pretend to know what that means. It must be amazing to see them give birth. Have you been able to watch?”
I shake my head.
She leans against the fence post. “You haven’t had the opportunity? Or you haven’t wanted to, considering your condition?”
I tense. “My… what?”
She glances at my belly. “When are you due?”
My heart lodges in my throat. “I, uh—”
An arm goes around me. “Don’t worry. Aaron didn’t spill the beans, but I can tell.”
“H-how?”
“Subtle things. The way you keep tugging at your shirt because you think someone will notice your bump. The three extra pickles you had with your sandwich. The way you protectively held your belly when you tripped over the rug upstairs.”
I don’t know what to say.
“Your secret is safe with me, Devyn. You’re not telling people. I get it. You want to wait until you’re further along.”
“You must think I’m a terrible person.”
“Ha! Like I’m one to judge.”
“Then can I tell you something?”
“Anything.”
“I’m not one hundred percent sure I can do this. I’m not ready. I’m only twenty-two, and there are other reasons I shouldn’t be a mom.”
“Has Aaron told you the story of how he was conceived? And about his guardian angel, Erin?”
“He has.”
“Then you know I didn’t want to be a mother. I was a party girl. A businesswoman. I had no desire or inclination to have a child. I didn’t know one thing about it. I only wanted to do something good for someone. Heck, it was practically a dare from my friends.”
“So how did you know you could handle it?”
“One day, my sister, Baylor, came over and told me she was in a bind, and I had to watch her newborn, Jordan. It was only for a little while, she said. The big fat liar left Jordan with me for the entire day.” She laughs. “I didn’t know a baby could eat and poop so much. It was horrible. I was sure I was going to drop her or step on her or feed her too much or too little, or put her on her stomach when she was supposed to be on her back. I’d never been so exhausted or so mad at anyone before.”
“Uh… okay.”
“I thanked her later, but it took me a while to bond with my unborn child. I went months thinking I was just the incubator, and then I had to start seeing him as mine. It was a huge adjustment.” She scans our surroundings. “And now look at him. He’s living here, loving life. Loving you—I can tell. This may not be how you planned it, but sometimes life’s best surprises come when you’re least expecting them.”
“Can I tell you something else?”
“Yes.”
I take a deep breath and tell her about Kasey. For the second time in as many weeks, I’m letting someone see into the depths of my hell, this time a virtual stranger.
She takes me in her arms. “Don’t you see? The two of you are meant for each other. You and Aaron are both hurting. You’re both healing. This little one might be the key to all your future happiness.”