you weren’t hungry?” Ivy said as Dawn pulled out a carton of orange juice.
“That was five minutes ago. Things change.” She glowered at the avocado-green monster as the door slammed shut. “And you seriously need a new refrigerator. Wasn’t this one here when you bought the place?”
“Thought maybe I’d hang on to it long enough to be buried in it, save myself a few bucks.”
“And wouldn’t that frost a few folks,” Dawn said on a chuckle. She poured herself a glass of juice and sat back down at the table. “Why didn’t you ever tell me who my father was?”
Ivy nearly spilled her coffee. “What?”
“My father. I don’t even know his name, or if he’s in town, or if he’s even alive or not.”
Ivy carefully set down her cup, then said, even more carefully, “Would it make any difference if you did know?”
After a swallow of juice and a shrug, Dawn said, “Probably not.”
“Then why now?”
“I don’t know. I mean, why should I give a flying fig about a man who never wanted anything to do with me? But now, with the baby coming, I just got to thinking about it.” Her eyes narrowed. “You know where he is, don’t you?”
After a moment Ivy nodded, her heart knocking painfully against her ribs.
“But you’re not going to tell me.”
“I can’t.” She met her daughter’s gaze. “I made a promise.”
“Which means you can’t tell me his name, either.”
“No.”
“Well. That was elucidating. Did he even know you were pregnant?”
“Dawn, please—”
“Did he leave you when he found out?”
“Honey, there’s really no point to this. Your father and I…it was a mistake, okay? Not you,” she added at the raised brows in front of her. “Us.”
“Because…?”
Well, at least she could be honest about this part. “Because we…got together for all the wrong reasons. There never was a future it.”
“Like Cal and me, you mean?”
Ivy got up from the table to rinse out her cup. “No, not like Cal and you. And there’s no point comparin’ the situations, so don’t even try.”
“You mean, because Cal wouldn’t walk out on his child.”
“Seems to me it’s not Cal walkin’ out that’s the issue here.”
“For God’s sake, Mama!” Ivy turned to see tears cresting in her daughter’s eyes. “I do want to do what’s right, I swear! What’s right for everyone—the baby, Cal, me…dammit! Why can’t I get through a simple conversation without crying?” A tear streaked down her cheek. “I just don’t know what that is, okay? I mean, Cal and I have talked, what? Three times since I’ve been here? And we never reach any conclusion beyond the ‘fact’ that I’m being muleheaded. And don’t think I haven’t figured out the two of you are in cahoots!”
Ivy crossed her arms and took the offensive. “Okay, fine. I think he would make a damn fine son-in-law. So sue me.”
“Too bad you’ll have to find another daughter for that to happen.”
“He’s sure as hell better than that creep you were going to marry!”
Dawn’s laugh surprised her. “No arguments there. But this isn’t about Cal’s qualifications for husbandhood. He’d be a terrific husband. Just not for me.”
“Why not?”
“Lord, you’re as bad as he is! Have you not heard a single thing I’ve been saying since I got here?” She shot up from the table, forking her fingers through her matted hair. “I think I’ll go get that shower now, if you don’t mind—”
“Knock, knock…anybody home?”
Dawn shrieked and grabbed a kitchen towel to hold in front of her as Cal waltzed in through the back door as if he owned the place. She lobbed her mother what was supposed to be a searing look, which, combined with her campground-for-demented-squirrels coiffure, probably didn’t have quite the impact she’d hoped for. And, since she’d been 30,000 feet over Cincinnati when she remembered she’d never actually put her pajamas in her suitcase, was this the high school vintage nightgown with the holes in it? She wasn’t sure. She was sure, however, that she had a lot going on underneath that soft, clingy, might-as-well-be-Saran-Wrap fabric. More than usual. Another whole cup size more than usual, in fact.
Cal’s gaze raked lazily from toes to towel, at which point that damned dimpled smile of his—the number one cause of female hormonal meltdown in high school—slid across his just-shaved face. To add insult to injury, his eyes twinkled like new grass after a spring shower. And, yep, her nipples perked right up. Damn things had been betraying her around Cal Logan ever since her blossoming boobs had pushed them front and center when she was thirteen. It was as if he had this psychic connection with them or something.
And if Cal and she could somehow forge a relationship on that point—or points—alone, they might have something. Since they couldn’t, it was all moot.
“Why are you here, Cal?” And when had her mother vanished?
“Oh, no special reason.” More grinning, more tingling. He set a wrapped parcel on the counter. “I had to come into town, anyway, so Ethel figured y’all might like some of her apple cake….”
Food and gossip. The life blood of a small town.
“Then I figured I’d take you out for a while, since it’s finally cooled down some, give you a chance to see what the town’s like these days. And you can let go of the towel, honey, since I already know what it’s covering.”
Dawn clutched the towel more tightly, nausea momentarily distracting her from her duplicitous knockers. For the first time in weeks she was almost grateful she felt like crud.
“The last thing I want to do right now is go anywhere. Besides, I don’t imagine the town’s changed all that much since the last time I saw it.”
Cal’s hands slid into his back pockets. Like most guys out here, his belt buckle was shiny and silver and only marginally smaller than Texas. And Dawn noticed the bottom didn’t lie exactly flat against his belly. She jerked her eyes to his face—dimples and lazy grins were a lot safer than angled belt buckles—in time to hear him say, “And when was the last time you saw Haven?”
Cheeks burned. “Two months ago.”
“I didn’t say the last time you were here. I said the last time you saw it. As in, paid attention to what it’s like now. Not what you remember.”
She shut her eyes. Let’s see…she looked
