Connor called, obviously preferring to walk rather than hear about his sister-in-law’s dating exploits.
The dog obediently trotted down the stairs, though he hesitated at the bottom. His tail wagged when Connor held up the leash, but he turned his head to glance back at where the babies were sleeping.
“Piper and Poppy will be fine,” Connor promised. “Their mommy and Auntie Brie will be here if they need anything while we’re out.”
Of course, the dog probably didn’t understand what his master was saying, but he seemed reassured enough to let Connor hook the leash onto his collar.
“I won’t be too long,” Connor said, then reached across the counter to flip the switch on the kettle.
Brie looked at her sister. “How long were you going to let me wait for the water to boil before telling me that there was a switch?”
“Only a little while longer.”
Connor chuckled as he led Baxter to the door.
“So tell me when and how you met the hunky deputy,” Brie said, as she poured the finally boiling water into the mugs.
“I’ve known Connor since high school. He was a year ahead of me, but we were in the same math class because I accelerated through some of my courses.”
“I remember now,” Brie said. “He was a scrawny guy with a surly attitude who you tutored in calculus.”
She was grateful her sister didn’t refer to him as the bastard kid of “Faithless Faith”—a cruel nickname that had followed Connor’s mother to her grave. Regan had never met Faith Neal—later Faith Parrish—but she knew of her reputation.
In her later years, Faith had been a hardworking single mom devoted to her two sons, but people still remembered her as a wild teenager who’d snuck out after curfew, hung with a bad crowd and smoked cigarettes and more.
Some people believed she was desperately looking for the love she’d never known at home. Others were less charitable in their assessment and made her the punchline to a joke. If a man suffered any kind of setback, such as the loss of a job or the breakup of a relationship, others would encourage him to “Have Faith.” That advice was usually followed by raucous laughter and the rejoinder: “Everyone else in town has had her.”
“He sure did fill out nicely,” Brie remarked now. “Was it those broad shoulders that caught your eye? Or the sexy dent in his square chin? Because I’m guessing it wasn’t his kitchen decor.”
Regan reached into the bakery box for a cookie. “This room is an eyesore, isn’t it?”
“Or are white melamine cupboards with red plastic handles retro-chic?”
“Connor’s saving up to renovate.”
“Saving up?” Brie echoed, sounding amused. “I guess that means he didn’t marry you for your money.”
“He married me because I was pregnant,” Regan told her. Because when a bride gave birth six months after the ring was put on her finger, what was the point in pretending otherwise?
“Well, if you had to get knocked up, at least it was by a guy who was willing to do the right thing.”
“Hmm,” Regan murmured in apparent agreement.
Brie broke off a piece of cookie. “I would have come home for your wedding, if you’d asked.”
“We eloped in Reno,” Regan told her.
“Doesn’t that count as a wedding?”
She shook her head. “Weddings take time to plan, and I didn’t want to be waddling down the aisle.”
“I’m sure you didn’t waddle,” her sister said loyally.
“I showed you my belly when we Facetimed, so you know I was huge. I was waddling before the end of my fifth month.”
“Well, you were carrying two babies,” Brie acknowledged. She chewed on another bite of cookie before she asked, “What did the folks think about your elopement?”
“They were surprisingly supportive. Or maybe just grateful that their second and third grandchildren wouldn’t be born out of wedlock.”
Their first was Spencer’s daughter, but he hadn’t even known about Dani’s existence until her mother was killed in an accident. He’d given up his career on the rodeo circuit to assume custody, then moved back to Haven with his little girl and fallen in love with Kenzie Atkins, who had been Brielle’s BFF in high school.
“They were a lot less happy to learn that I was pregnant,” Regan confided to her sister now. “Dad’s exact words were, ‘And you were supposed to be the smart one.’”
Brie winced. “That’s harsh. Although it’s true that you’re the smart one.”
“They don’t let dummies into Columbia,” Regan pointed out.
“True,” her sister said again. “But no one I met at Columbia is as smart as you.” She selected another cookie from the box. “What did Mom say?”
“You know Mom,” Regan said. “Always practical and looking for the solution to a problem.”
Brie’s expression darkened. “Because a baby is a problem to be solved and not a miracle to be celebrated.”
“I like to think they were happy about the babies but concerned about my status in town as an unwed mother,” Regan said, though even she wasn’t convinced it was true. “You know how people here like to gossip.”
“And then Connor stepped up to ensure the legitimacy of his babies and all was right in the world?” Brie asked, her tone dubious.
“Well, Dad was happy that Connor had done the right thing—at least, from his perspective. Mom made no secret of the fact that she thinks Connor and I aren’t well-suited.”
“How about you?” Brie asked. “Are you happy with the way everything turned out?”
“I never thought I could be this happy,” Regan responded sincerely. Not that her marriage was perfect, but she was confident that she’d made the right choice for her babies—and hopeful that it would prove to be the right choice for her and her husband, too.
“I’m glad.”
It was the tone rather than the words that tripped Regan’s radar. “So why don’t you sound glad?” she asked her sister.
Brie shrugged. “I guess I’m just thinking about the fact that everyone around me seems to be having babies,” she explained. “Two of my colleagues are off on mat leave right now, a third is due at the end of the summer and another just announced that she’s expecting.”
“That’s a lot of babies. But still, you’re a little young for your biological clock to be ticking already,” Regan noted.
“I’m not in any rush,”
