Dirty: The Complete Series (Secret Baby Romance Love Story) (11 page)

But
I knew better. I’d been hoping that at least he would be a little curious about
his own daughter. I didn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore; not
romantically, at least. But I had hoped for our daughter’s sake that he would
find it in him to want to know who she was, and how she was doing.

I’d
been prepared to make concessions, even—I would have taken her to his parents’
place in town and dropped her off with them for him to meet her, if he’d
wanted. I had obviously been completely wrong about the kind of person Titan
was when we’d met…and that disturbed the hell out of me.

Almost
unwillingly, my thoughts turned to Cade instead. “Cade would never pull
something like this,” I murmured, bitter and wistful all at once.

If
Cade had been engaged to someone, I had to believe that he would be loyal to
her. And even if somehow he fell out of love with the mother of his child,
everything I had seen of him told me that he would at least take an interest in
his own child’s life.

Sure,
if I wanted to deal with all the stress and strain of filing for child support,
I could go to the courts and make sure that Titan had to pay for the rest of
Addie’s childhood, but I wasn’t interested in money from him. The farm was
making enough money that, provided we didn’t run into any catastrophes in the
next 18 years, I would be fine and so would my daughter.

But
I wanted her to have a daddy. I wanted her to have a father figure. I glanced
in the direction of Addie’s room and sighed to myself.
At least
, I thought,
she
wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of having had a father and losing him
.
I sighed again.

It
was almost time to get Addie up from her nap. I would take her over to Mom’s
place and start on dinner, since Mom would be late coming home from the doctor.

I
thought about Cade again, imagining him with a child of his own. For the short
time I’d known him, he’d done so well with Addie, amusing her whenever they
were in the same place together, paying attention to her, interested in her
little life. If he had a child of his own, I could only imagine that he’d be a
great dad.

Adelyn
didn’t exactly want to wake up, but as soon as I had her out of her crib and
told her we were going to Grandma and Papa’s house, she perked up. I carried
Addie across the farm to the main house, singing her a little song and
listening to her chirp back to me—every once in a while she caught a lyric, but
mostly she was just belting out noise in the same key. I let myself into the
house through the back door and settled my little girl in her playpen in the
living room with a few toys to keep her busy while I checked on the kitchen.

As
I was taking stock of things, putting together a rough idea in my head of what
to make for dinner, Mom came in, smiling. “You’re in a good mood for coming
home from the doctor,” I said, giving her a tart look.

“I
got nothing but good news,” Mom replied. “I am 100% A-Okay.”

“That’s
awesome!” I grinned at her. “Anything in particular you want for dinner to
celebrate?”

She
shrugged. “I am in the mood for anything—see what needs picking in the garden
and make up what you like.”

Mom
kissed me on the forehead and started to head towards the living room to greet
Addie before going to her bedroom to get out of her nicer clothes. “Oh! I meant
to tell you as soon as I came in: I invited Cade to stay for supper, too.”

“Oh?”
I tried to keep my voice neutral but my heart started pounding in my chest. My
big idea for dinner—some beef stroganoff and marinated tomatoes—suddenly seemed
cheap and tawdry. I needed to come up with something better. “Have we got any
of that turkey that the Jones’ sent us? Or is it all frozen?”

I
tried to remember what kind of frozen vegetables we had. Mom and I had been
harvesting from the kitchen garden every day, but as it headed into summer
there was more than we could eat at any given meal, and so we blanched and
froze the extra for later on in the year.

“What
are you going to make with turkey? You can’t roast a turkey in time for
dinner,” Mom said dubiously.

“No—no
of course not,” I said, laughing at the idea. “I was thinking I’d make a pot
pie.” Mom raised an eyebrow at that; potpie was more than a little labor
intensive, even if it didn’t take as much time as a roasted turkey.

“You
really are interested in celebrating my clean bill of health,” she said drily.
“I think we’ve got a couple of breasts in the fridge still; I was going to cook
some up for sandwiches.”

“Oh—if
you had plans for them…” I felt my cheeks burning with a blush. Mom laughed.

“The
Jones’ sent us four turkeys,” she pointed out. “And, two breasts on top of it.
I can get one of the whole birds out of the big freezer and roast that up—make
dinner another night and sandwiches for the week.”

She
shrugged and went into the living room, leaving me alone. I took a deep breath
and began to get down to work: I would need to make and rest the pie crust, and
boil the turkey and make the broth, and put everything else together. But I was
sure that Cade would love the end result—my turkey pot pie was not quite as
amazing as my fried chicken, but it was definitely well worth eating.

I
blushed as I moved about the kitchen, gathering up the things I would need and
calling the recipe up in my mind. Mom wouldn’t rat me out, I knew that; but I
couldn’t help showing Cade a little love, even if I couldn’t tell him what I
was doing.

Chapter
Fourteen

Cade

The
smells coming from the kitchen when I stepped into the house to clean up for
dinner nearly blew me away all on their own. I didn’t know what Autumn had decided
to make, but whatever it was, I was certain it was delicious.

I
went into the bathroom the same as I had maybe ten times since I’d started
working for the Nelsons, and cleaned myself up as quickly as possible: washed
my hands and face, combed my hair and pulled it back, dusted off my clothes,
and dried myself off. I really would have preferred a full shower—but I hadn’t
brought clothes to change into, and anyway, that would be delaying dinner too
much.

I
stepped out of the bathroom and crossed the living room to go into the kitchen.
Tuck had washed up, as well, and Mrs. Nelson was finishing up the table
setting. Bob Nelson emerged from upstairs, and I looked around until I spotted
Autumn, She had a big casserole dish in her hands, and that—I was pretty
sure—was where the delicious smells were mostly coming from.

“Thanks
for inviting me to stay for dinner,” I said, smiling at the different members
of the family. “I wasn’t expecting it.”

“We’re
happy to have you,” Bob said, taking his seat at the head of the table. Tuck
settled in the same spot I’d always seen him in, to Bob’s right, and Mrs.
Nelson took the foot of the table.

Autumn
brought the casserole dish to the table and set it down, and I took a few
moments to survey everything in front of me as I sat in one of the only seats
left.

There
was a cucumber-tomato salad, dressed in something creamy, and a pitcher of
lemonade. I spotted some pickles of different kinds—I wondered how much Autumn
and her mom put away every year—in jars scattered around. The casserole Autumn
set down at the center of the table had a golden-brown crust on the top of it;
it was clearly some kind of pie.

“What
have we got here?” Bob Nelson put his napkin in his lap and began helping
himself to dabs and forkfuls of pickles to go with the main course.

“Turkey
pot pie,” Autumn replied, seating herself.

My
eyes widened. “Really?”

Autumn
raised an eyebrow, meeting my gaze. “Something wrong?”

I
shook my head. “No—no, nothing is wrong with this.” I smiled. “Turkey pot pie
is one of my favorite foods.”

Autumn
grinned and I saw the color rising up in her cheeks. “I had no idea,” she said.
“I’m glad to hear it.”

I
began to serve myself along with all the members of the family. I waited until
after Bob and Mrs. Nelson took their servings of potpie to get my own helping.
It was pretty promising right away: flaky, delicate crust, thick sauce, lots of
turkey and vegetables. I filled my plate with the potpie and the salad and a
few pickles and got to work eating the delicious food, listening to the ebb and
flow of conversation around me.

The
first few bites of turkey potpie and nearly brought me to my knees. It was
better even than my aunt’s—it was delicious. Not too salty, not to rich, not
watery, with really good turkey flavor and perfectly cooked vegetables. “This
is amazing, Autumn—really amazing,” I said, meeting her gaze across the table.

“It’s
not difficult,” she said, smiling coyly. “It’s basically turkey stew in a
pastry shell at the end of the day.”

“Well,
if this is turkey stew, it’s some of the best turkey stew I’ve ever had,” I
told her.

The
blush in Autumn’s cheeks deepened and I decided to let up on her a bit;
obviously she didn’t want anyone suspecting there was anything at all between
us.
There isn’t anything at all between
us and there can’t be anything, because you promised Bob Nelson there wouldn’t
be anything,
I reminded myself.

“So,
how was your boys’ day?” Mrs. Nelson asked between bites of potpie and salad,
looking from me to Tuck to Bob.

“Productive,”
Bob said, nodding. “We managed to get everything we needed to do done—always a
good thing.”

“I’m
not happy with the noises I’m hearing from the spreader,” Tuck said, shaking
his head. “I’m going to take a look at it first thing in the morning, when
there’s some good light out.”

“What
sort of noises were you hearing?” Bob wiped his mouth on his paper napkin, and
Tucker shrugged and mimicked a chucking, stuttering noise with his mouth.

“Cover
your mouth with your napkin if you’re going to do that while you eat,” Autumn
said sharply.

“Stop
showing off for your new boyfriend,” Tuck countered.

“He’s
not my boyfriend,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Not even close.”

“Autumn
is right,” Mrs. Nelson said, her voice firm. “I don’t want Cade thinking I
raised a heathen child, and you’re setting a bad example for Addie, too.”

“Addie
can barely manage to keep her food off of her face anyway,” Tuck said, though
he wiped at his lips. “I’m going to take that spreader apart in the morning and
see if there’s something gumming up the works.”

We
talked about the schedule for the next few weeks. The work around the farm was
pretty steady—not as frantic as the planting was, but there was something to do
every single day, even when there wasn’t something specific to the plantings.
Things around the farm needed tending, repairing, painting, building. Tuck and
Bob had talked about putting in a pen for a few pigs and maybe picking up some
weaned piglets from a neighboring farm.

“It
might not be a bad idea; we’d have a lot of pork at the end of it, and the pigs
could eat some of the compostable stuff,” Tuck pointed out.

“Pig
shit stinks,” Autumn countered. “I am not mucking out a pig pen.”

“If
you build it the right way, all you have to do is hose it down once a day or
so,” Tuck insisted. “And if we got, like, three pigs, we’d have enough pork to
last us all winter.”

“While
we’re at it, why not get, like, four cows—we’ll have milk and beef that way,”
Mrs. Nelson said drily.

“Cows
are way more expensive than pigs,” Tuck countered. “Hell—if we got four or five
pigs, we could barter two of the finished carcasses for some other stuff, or
sell ‘em to the butcher shop.”

“I
think we’re doing good with the expansion already,” Bob said, helping himself
to another, smaller serving of the potpie.

“Don’t
eat too much dinner,” Autumn interjected. “I made dessert, too.”

“What’d
you make?” Tuck broke away from the topic of the pigs to look at her
speculatively.

“Strawberry
cream cake,” she said with a little grin.

“What’s
that?” I glanced at the excited faces on the table; only Addie seemed to be as
confused as I was.

“It’s
layers of pound cake, strawberries, and whipped cream,” Mrs. Nelson explained.
In spite of how much I’d already eaten, my mouth watered at the thought.

“We
have those strawberries just about to give up for the season, so I figured I’d
put them to use,” Autumn said. She shrugged, still grinning. Tuck’s irritation
seemed to have vanished at the mention of the treat.

“I
don’t know how you guys are able to put away such big meals every day,” I said,
shaking my head with a smile. “I’d be completely useless if this was my daily
dinner.” Everyone at the table laughed.

“It’s
not always this rich,” Mrs. Nelson told me. “But we certainly work it off.”

“It’s
easier to work when you know you have to,” Tuck said. There was a strange
little tone in his voice.

“Well,
I have to work, too,” I pointed out. “After all, no one is paying me if I’m not
working.”