The Pregnancy Clause. Elizabeth Sinclair
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Danny grinned and bestowed a wet kiss to her upturned cheek. She set him back on his feet. Without hesitation, he scampered down the steps, then raced in the direction of the barn. Emily watched him, her heart assuming a strange new beat.
Honey sighed. “The child is incorrigible.”
“You worry too much about how he’s going to grow up. He’s a good kid. He’ll be fine.”
“I plan on making certain of that. Speaking of fine, will he be okay out there?”
Emily nodded. “Chuck will keep an eye on him. He loves having Danny around.” She continued to watch as Danny’s short legs carried him to the barn. “And you can stop worrying about him. He’ll make a fine man some day.”
“Well, you don’t help matters when you—” Honey leaned into Emily’s line of vision. “Do I see maternal longing in those green eyes?”
Emily straightened and glared at her sister. Sometimes the closeness they had was more of a liability than a blessing. Maybe if she just ignored her…. “Did you come over here just to antagonize me or is there another purpose for your visit?” She walked into the house ahead of Honey, leading her into the kitchen. “Coffee?”
Honey feigned a look of horror. She backed up, as if to escape some threat. “What terrible thing have I done to be subjected to a cup of that black poison you call coffee?”
Smiling for the first time today, Emily waved her into a chair and got a can of soda for each of them from the refrigerator. Honey could always cheer her up. “Okay, so I can’t make coffee to save my life. Shoot me. With Rose around, I don’t need culinary talents.”
“Em, you may be an ace with those four-legged beasts you love, but you wouldn’t know a culinary talent if it bit you on the backside.” Honey popped the can, tucked a wayward strand of her long, blond hair behind her ear, then took a sip. “When’s Rose due back?”
“Not for a while. About two weeks, I think.” Sighing, Emily looked around the sparkling yellow kitchen. “If someone doesn’t take pity on me, I just may starve to death before then. One can survive for just so long on peanut butter and banana sandwiches.”
Honey snickered at her younger sister’s blatant bid for a dinner invitation. “You sure picked the wrong night to wangle a dinner invitation. Tess is making her prizewinning meat loaf tonight. Now, if you’d waited until tomorrow night, Tess has it off and I man the kitchen.” She curled her nose. “But I don’t dare go near it while Tess is there.”
“It’s a good thing the woman has a day off, or I’d worry more about Danny’s nutrition than his manners.” She shook her head. “I’ll never understand why your mother-in-law has kept her for all these years. Amanda can certainly afford someone better.”
Honey shrugged. “Tess grows on you.”
“So does bacteria, but most people don’t encourage it.” Tess made the only gray meat loaf Emily had ever seen in her life. She wasn’t a cook by any means, but even she knew meat loaf should be brown.
Avoiding Emily’s comment, Honey took a sip from her soda can.
Lowering her voice as if she might be overheard, Emily leaned toward Honey. “Wonder where she won that prize, and how many drinks the judges had before they awarded it to her.”
Honey snickered. “Never mind where she won it. If hers was the winner, can you imagine what the losers were like?”
Both women laughed.
“So, what does bring you here, aside from being thrown out of Amanda’s kitchen by a woman small enough to have learned how to cook in a hollow tree with a bunch of elves?”
“Just plain nosiness.” Honey set her soda can down. “What did Tippens want to see you for?”
Emily’s good mood evaporated. She rose, then walked to the trash and deposited her empty can. “It seems Dad’s will had a codicil.” She turned to her shocked sister.
“A codicil? Can they do that? I mean, so long after the will has been read?”
“From what Lawrence said, it can be done any time the deceased requests it be done. Apparently, due to a filing glitch, the codicil was just discovered.”
“But how can something like that get misplaced?”
Emily glanced at her. “Larry said his father’s filing system left a lot to be desired.” Grabbing another soda from the refrigerator, Emily popped the top. Gas hissed from the can. “It gets better. Seems Dad insisted that if I’m to keep Clover Hill Farms, I have to have a baby.”
“A baby?” Honey’s lower jaw dropped. “And if you don’t?”
“If I don’t, the farm goes to the Horseman’s Benevolent Association.”
“What? Well, that sucks dead canaries.” Honey leaned forward and rested her forearms on the pine table. “What in blazes possessed Dad to do such a thing?”
“Beats me. But when did he ever not make a sharp left when everyone else was ready to go right?” Throwing herself back in the chair facing her sister, Emily rubbed at the ache in her temple. “He promised me sole ownership of the farm. Why did he lie to me, Honey?”
Honey laughed derisively, took a sip of her soda, then shook her head. “Heaven only knows. Why did he do half the things he did? Why did he insist I marry a man I didn’t love? Why did he alienate his own son?” She rose and walked to the window. Pulling the curtain aside, she looked out, presumably checking on Danny’s whereabouts. “Everyone in this valley knows that Frank Kingston was a law unto himself. That he left the farm to you came as a surprise to no one, considering that I detest horses and Jesse detested Dad.” She shook her head. “He wasn’t well-liked, but he sure was obeyed. I figure that Henry Tippens died of that heart attack so quickly after Dad died only because Dad was up there already and poor Henry didn’t dare keep him waiting.”
Despite Honey’s attempt at levity, Emily knew her sister still felt the pain of their father’s interference in her life. When he’d insisted Honey marry to make her unborn child legitimate and preserve the Kingston’s good name, he’d sentenced his daughter to a life with a man who suffered from a Peter Pan complex. The best thing Stan Logan ever did for Honey and Danny was get himself killed last year in a motorcycle accident. Since then, Honey had made it her life’s mission to make sure Danny didn’t follow in his father’s footsteps.
Emily’s father hadn’t cared that he’d forced Honey to marry the wrong man. He just didn’t want the whole valley to laugh at him. Emily had never mentioned any of this to Honey. Aside from the fact that Honey didn’t seem to want to talk about it, Emily had promised her father she would never tell Honey just how much she knew about Danny and his father. To Emily, a promise was golden. Once made, it could not be broken.
She laughed to herself. Frank Kingston had been dead for five years and ironically, he was still running their lives from his grave.
“This may not be as bad as we think.” Honey had left the window and returned to her seat across from Emily. “Since you are going to marry sometime, it follows that you’ll have children, too. Right?”
“In