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Authors: Annie Jones

Somebody's Baby (9 page)

BOOK: Somebody's Baby
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But now she wasn’t quite sure how to act when so much good news came her way. One thing after another, each brighter and more positive than the last. Who knew that even that would carry its own kind of stress? Have its own unique way of needing to lean on the Lord?

Josie hummed a hymn and walked toward the Home Cookin’ Kitchen with a spring in her step that had not been there in a long, long time. She carried Nathan in her arms and from time to time he would lay his chubby cheek against hers as he gnawed his fist and “sang” along with her.

“Ya-ya-ya.”

It wasn’t exactly to the tune of “Blessed Be the Tie that Binds” but the child did manage to keep the right rhythm. Of course, every mother thought her own child was some kind of genius. And while Josie didn’t see a musical career in Nathan’s future, she did think he might have an affinity for listening and repeating.

“Ya-ya-ya.”

“No. Not ya-ya. Try this, ma-ma.”

“Ya-ya.”

“No. No. Listen—” Josie pressed her lips together to sound it out. “Mmmma-mmma.”

“Na-na-na.”

“Mama.” She hadn’t encouraged the child to call her that before now. She couldn’t. Not until…

Josie could not dismiss Ophelia’s fickleness and that, until now, she had to be aware of the fact that there was an unknown father who could show up and take Nathan away. Now she had Adam’s word, knew that his father was a sweet gentleman willing to welcome her into the family—if only on the fringes—and Ophelia’s signature on the proper legal documents that meant that Nathan would soon be hers forever.

The only thing that could make this day better was to hear him form the name she hoped he’d call her for the rest of his life. “C’mon, Nath. Mama. Ma-ma-ma. Mama.”

“Na-na-na.”

“Mmmmmama. Ma-ma.” She pointed to herself.

“Mmmmmya-ya.” He pointed to himself.

“No, Nathan, that’s me. Mama.” Just saying it lifted her heart. So she pressed her fingertip more emphatically to her chest and said it again. “I’m your mama.”

The child touched one finger to her face. “Ya-ya. Na-na. Da-da!”

“D-dada? Where did that come from?” Why was she asking him that? Even if he could have responded, Josie already knew the answer. “I have had you since the day you came home from the hospital. Walked the floors with you, prayed over you, spent every possible moment I could with you, and you call me the same thing you call your boo-boo bear and your big toe. He
has
you for a morning and a few hours in the afternoon and already you know the name, Da-da.”

She hugged her boy close, not minding one bit that he had formed an instant and irrepressible bond with his father. Josie couldn’t help noticing the man’s charms herself.

“Dada. Da-da-da.” He waved is hand around.

“Okay, I got it. Save it for when you see—” She followed the line of her son’s finger and gasped. “Adam?”

Across the street from the Home Cookin’ Kitchen and down about half a block was the unmistakable shape of a man in black standing by a gleaming Harley. He had his back to them and showed no probability of turning around, not when he was leaning with his forearm on a sleek silver car, talking to…someone. She couldn’t see who.

“Not that it matters,” she murmured to Nathan, thinking that even a one-year-old had to know she had really been talking to herself. “What the man does is his own business. Though…that doesn’t
look
like business. Unless it’s funny business.”

Josie pulled Nathan close and stepped into the doorway of the vacant building next to the Home Cookin’ Kitchen. She needed a moment to gather herself. She did not know what Adam was up to, though he’d made it clear he had no intention of telling her, so she couldn’t be hurt by his need for privacy.

But the fact that it was
not
privacy that the man wanted but
secrecy,
that’s what needled her.

She recognized the signs of it from all her years dealing with her mother and Ophelia. Master manipulators, they always had schemes and small subterfuges working behind the scenes. Always had to be someplace, meet a person here or there, never in the open. Never on the up and up.

Josie’s heart sank. She would not condemn Adam or write him off based on what little she did know. But she also could not simply believe in him blindly.

Adam had asked her to trust him and said he would take her into account when making decisions. But judging from his effort to get her not to cook for the barbecue and this sneaky behavior, the only thing he was taking into account was his own clandestine plans.

If it were just her, she might…but it wasn’t just her. And if the adoption plans went well it would never be just her again.

Adam could promise to take her into account, but Josie didn’t have a choice, she had to think of Nathan first and do what was best for him. That meant keeping both the doors of her business and the lines of communication between herself and the Burdetts open. And if Adam didn’t like it, then…

A pang of guilt made her look in his direction just in time to see him point the way out of town, then step away from the silver car to reveal he had been speaking to a woman. A pretty woman. Poised. Even from this vantage point she gave off a sense of power and professionalism that Josie could never posses.

The woman started her car and pulled away from the curb.

“Dada.”

“Shh. Nathan,” she snapped.

The baby silenced.

“Mama’s not mad at you, honey, it’s just that…”

Adam got onto this Harley and took off, right behind the woman in the sleek sedan, without so much as a backward glance.

“I need to think.” She tucked the child close and hurried to the front door of her well-lit diner, mumbling as she did, “Now, where did I put Burke Burdett’s business card?”

Chapter Eight

“T
hank you for meeting me out here on such short notice.” Adam extended his hand to Dora Hoag. A compact, athletic woman with short black hair and the kind of personality that made people around her feel as if they were always running behind the power-walking, Bluetooth talking, multitasking, no-quarter-asking executive.

“It’s just that once people know I’m in town it would only take a Web search to connect me to Global…”

“I understand your personal issues in all of this, Burdett.” She didn’t look at him when she spoke, so he was glad she’d used his name.

Dora tended not to look people in the eye unless they were her superiors or somebody she could get some good business out of. More than once Adam had almost commented on something she had said only to realize in the nick of time she was carrying on an electronic conversation and was hardly even aware of his presence.

She took only a moment to sweep her gaze over their surroundings.

Adam did the same.

He scowled that the half asphalt, half gravel parking lot that Adam had promised employees time and again they would finish off—only to have his father say it was fine the way it was—had not been fixed. And the long, low building painted buttery yellow and…well, the color had originally been called café au lait meant to evoke one of the flavors in their famed Crumble Pattie, had not been repainted in years. Now the butter color looked more like someone had mixed mud into vanilla ice cream, and the café au lait had sun-faded to a pinkish color not unlike the pancake makeup he’d seen elderly ladies wear to church. Separating the two colors was a border of bright blue-and-white checks and what was supposed to be an image of their lone product stamped like a large seal of approval to one side.

Corporate logos were supposed to be so easily identifiable that even without the red script “Carolina Crumble Pattie” emblazoned next to it, everyone who had ever seen the product would immediately recognize it. Adam had grown up making and eating that product and he still had no idea what the image on the building was supposed to be.

Luckily they had not used it in packaging or anything official. One of the ongoing battles Adam had had with his father was about that very image. Adam had suggested they tap a fresh-faced local girl for the image of “Carolina Pattie”—and as he recalled that, Josie came to mind. But his father had flatly refused, not because Conner believed in the power of the disproportioned artwork but because he loved the artist, his wife, Maggie Burdett.

Adam had to force down the lump in his throat then. He looked away from the facade of the building and narrowed his eyes on the hills in the distance.

“But to me there is nothing personal at all here.” Dora gave a sniff, frowned, then brought her full attention to bear on Adam, or as much of her attention as she gave to anyone in his position. “It’s just business.”

“But it won’t be to my family.” He motioned toward the back door marked Employees Only and pulled a key from his pocket. He unlocked the door, feeling a twinge of guilt about it. Dora didn’t want to recognize the personal connection but she had no problem using it to give her a slight edge in her decision-making process. “My older brother and father would rather drive this business into the ground than to have to admit they needed me to broker the deal that would keep them afloat.”

“That’s why they are in the shape they are in.” She crossed the threshold into the dimly lit hallway. “Can’t run a successful business like that, right?”

Adam assumed she didn’t actually expect him to answer. Surely Dora had her own business opinions and theories.

He reached out and even in the darkness knew just where to find the light switch. It was a little like coming home to be here now. The comforting whirr of the fluorescent lights. The echo of their footsteps on the concrete floor. The familiar smell of the day’s baking still lingered in the air.

Adam looked at the key in his hand, then down the length of the hallway with office doors on both sides. Then he searched beyond to the factory proper at the far end. Whether Dora wanted a response or not, he felt he had to say one thing. “They made a success of it for a lot of years.”

“I know.” There was an uncharacteristic kindness to her voice. Then she cleared her throat and took a step down the hall. “I’ve seen the profit-and-loss statements for the last decade. Mostly loss the last few years.”

Adam squared his shoulders. “We can change all that.”


Global
can change all that.” She did not snap or come off defensive. If anything, Adam picked up a note of weariness, perhaps resignation in her reply. “And I know perfectly well what Global is capable of doing.”

So did Adam, which was why he wanted to hear what Dora had in mind before Global went after the Crumble. They couldn’t buy the company out if they didn’t want to sell. Since the company was privately held, they could not force a hostile takeover.

What they could do was look at the company from every angle and see how they could make their own Crumble Pattie, bypassing the Burdetts altogether and undercutting their sales. That could put them out of business a full six months to a year sooner than the family would have managed to close the doors themselves. Or Global could come in, make a nice offer to take over the factory, let them keep their good name and take the Crumble Pattie to a national market as “one of the Global family of fine foods.” They could save the company.

Except Adam suspected his father and brothers would not see it that way.

“On the up side of things, the Carolina Crumble Pattie factory turns out a very good product.” She walked to the first office door and stopped to face it. Adam did not have to share her line of vision to know what name was painted in gold and black on the frosted glass: Conner Burdett—President. “They are a widely recognized brand in the region and a ready and loyal workforce.”

“That hasn’t changed,” he reminded her.

“You don’t have to sell me on this company, Burdett.” A few more steps and a half turn put her in front of Burke’s office door. She reached out to brush her fingertips over the name there. “I just needed to clap eyes on the physical locality before I make a recommendation to the higher-ups.”

“And that recommendation will be?” Burke’s deep voice startled Adam but seemed to have little effect on Dora.

Adam turned around and planted his feet shoulder width apart. He supposed the two of them looked a bit like old-time cowboys calling one another out in the street. Adam, who felt his features probably seemed darker and more menacing in the narrow hallway, stood six inches shorter than Burke, the tall fair-haired man with broad shoulders and unblinking blue eyes.

Adam did not react to his brother’s looming presence with anything more than a quiet, “I suppose you want my key back?”

Burke let the door fall shut behind him. “I’d settle for an explanation for why you are here.”

“I’d rather give you my key.” Adam started to tug it off the key ring.

“Don’t bother. If I had been worried about keeping you out I’d have changed the locks.” That could mean more than one thing: the most likely being that Burke already knew about Adam’s connection to Global and had prepared himself to handle it; or he was just toying with his younger brother, letting Adam know he would never be intimidated by a stray like him.

“I assumed you came here because
you
were worried,” Adam challenged. “Somebody call and report seeing Dora’s car and my Harley in the lot?”

Burke shook his head. “I came out to meet with Josie Redmond about this fool barbecue deal Dad wants to throw.”

Adam stepped back. “Josie?”

“She should be out here after she closes up.”

“So, she is going through with that, then?”

“Was there ever any doubt?”

Yes.
Adam had hoped she would turn his father down. Not just because he did not like the idea of her being in the middle of it all. Also since his brothers clearly had no inclination to organize the meal if Josie didn’t pitch in, the whole event might just fall quietly by the wayside. “When is this barbecue?”

“Saturday,” Burke said sounding more like a bull snorting than a man discussing a party.


This
Saturday?” Dora tipped her head and looked directly at the taller of the two brothers.

Burke nodded. Then he cocked his own head at the same angle as Dora’s and said, “
You’re
welcome to come.”

Adam had not introduced Dora on purpose. He didn’t plan on changing that now. “She won’t—”

“I might just do that,” Dora cut Adam off and held her hand out to Burke. “Dora Hoag.”

“Burke Burdett.”

Neither of them gave their business titles or bothered to share what relationship they had to the man they had in common, Adam. He couldn’t help but feel a little left out over that.

She held Burke’s hand longer than she’d ever held a handshake, or even eye contact with Adam. “Does your company do this kind of thing for the community regularly?”

“Never,” Adam muttered.

Burke did not let go of Dora’s hand but waited for her to slip it away. Then he added, “And the old man isn’t doing this for the
community.

Dora looked from the older brother to the younger. “Oh?”

Burke squinted Adam’s way. “It’s a big party to honor the return of the favored son.”

Adam pressed his lips together to spew out a curse. He caught a glimpse of his boss standing by watching with undisguised interest. Then he looked to Burke, who had spent a lifetime provoking all of the younger brothers and enjoying it far too much when Adam, inevitably, rose to the bait. He decided to forgo any gut reaction and respond with calm honesty. “
Me?
The
favored
son? Hardly.”

“These days you are.”

“No.” He refused to believe that. “Being the singled-out son is not the same as being favored. I’ve never been favored in this town for anything, unless it was to let everyone down.”

“That’s not how I recall it. The old man and I have always butted heads. Lucky tries to stay below his radar. And the Hound…” Even though they had outgrown and/or rejected the designations long ago, Burke still called each of them by their old nicknames.

“Cody,” Adam corrected quietly. “The old man has to be proud of Cody.”

“Yeah. Sure. Pleased that the Hound found his calling and that he married a really nice girl. But less pleased that they are waiting to start a family until they have a church and anything but pleased that his preacher son is trying to influence him to apply Christian values to running the business.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Dora asked.

Adam and Burke both looked her way.

Her expression had changed, brightened while at the same time appeared more relaxed than Adam ever recalled her looking in the past. “Global sprang from a family business founded on Biblical principles.”

Adam hadn’t known that. It certainly didn’t show in their current business model. Or did it? He had to admit to himself that he’d been so focused on his own goal he hadn’t given that much thought.

“Interesting.” Burke eyed her, sizing her up.

Burke sized everyone up. Adam had always had the impression that nobody ever measured up to his brother’s standards.

“Maybe you can tell me how that has worked out for—” he gave her an almost admiring smile “—Global, did you say?”

Adam cleared his throat to take the heat off Dora. “Okay, so the old man is on the outs with Cody. That doesn’t automatically move me up to the top of the heap.”

Top of the dog pile was Burke’s spot, and Adam concluded he wouldn’t be able to resist making sure everyone, especially the woman who had caught the older brother’s interest, knew it.

“No, that doesn’t place you on top in Dad’s eyes. But being the first of his boys to produce a grandchild
does.

Once again his family proved him wrong.

Adam shut his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Every disclaimer he could dredge up, from Nathan not being a Burdett by blood to wondering how their father could accept a child born out of wedlock, faltered unsaid when Burke leveled his gaze on Adam and added, “You don’t know what it means to him to hold at least one member of the next generation before he dies.”

“He’s too tough to die,” Adam blurted out, all cavalier and full of bluster. But the bluster came not from the well of anger that had sustained him for far too long. Just acknowledging that his father had any weakness, much less that he would not be with them for years to come, left Adam feeling like a six-year-old kid, lost and afraid. “He’s not…he’s not sick is he?”

“Yeah. Heartsick,” Burke said.

“Because of Mom?” Adam asked.

“Mom. You. The business. The town.” Burke did not look Adam in the eye as he went down the list. “Your coming back and that baby are the first bright spots he’s had in a very long while.”

Adam swallowed hard and clenched his jaw to force back the emotion rising from his chest.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be hearing this,” Dora said softly, but she made no attempt to leave.

“Maybe you
should.
” Burke did not say that he knew what she was up to, that he understood that she saw everything that mattered to him as a property, a product, an investment or a loss. “Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if you knew a little about my father.”

Adam stepped up. “Burke, that’s not—”

Burke ignored him. “Everything that old man did, he did for this family. His family is still what matters most to him.”

“Easy for you to say,” Adam muttered, only, for once he felt no anger or animosity behind it.

“Maybe it is. Maybe it is easier for someone outside a situation to see it for what it really is. With that kid, you gave him the one thing no spreadsheet or year-end report or bank balance could ever provide—a glimpse into the future.”

Adam did not know what to say to that. He knew Burke was right about his father and the family, yet he seriously doubted his own role in that family. How could he and a child he had produced, not from love and commitment and honor, but in a thoughtless run of sinful self-indulgence, mean anything to Adam’s adoptive father? He meant the world to Adam already, of course, but to Conner Burdett? The child didn’t even carry the name.

BOOK: Somebody's Baby
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