Passion in Bloom (Hometown Heartstrings #2)

Chapter 21

Heather

N ance and I talked over lunch. I expected the conversation to make me feel awkward, with her pushing me to stay in Burton and to give this retake on my life here a longer chance. I made it clear that I wasn’t rushing to go anywhere.

I liked the home I’d made at the cabin.

And I gave in a little to let her know that Roarke was staying there temporarily too.

“Wait,” she said, laughing lightly. “Let me get this straight. You guys are...busy. And then all of a sudden—” She mimed an explosion going off in her hands.

“Water.” I nodded, biting back a laugh at the pure shock we’d both experienced. “Everywhere.”

“From the bathroom.”

“And the kitchen. But we didn’t realize it until a few minutes later.”

“Ohhh man.” She shook her head, still laughing. “That’s awful.”

I added to the fact that Todd mentioned the owners wanting to tear down the cabins too, per the chat that I’d overheard when I dropped off my check.

“To tear all of them down?” She frowned. “That’s excessive. Not all of them can be that bad.”

“No. They’re not.” I felt like this was a good sign of growth. That I could turn away from my initial thoughts of the place being a dump unlike anything newer or nicer in a city. I’d come to like my cabin, even if it was small. It sure felt smaller now, with Roarke staying there. It emphasized how much larger than life he could be, but it wasn’t an oppressive reminder.

He was stronger and bigger, obviously. But I didn’t have an inkling of fear that he’d overpower me like David ever did.

Roarke only showed me how strong he was and how much stamina he had when he pounded into me hard and fast, blowing my mind over and over again.

“Yours wasn’t impacted by the water?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No. Not a sign of anything going wrong. I suspect my cabin might be connected before the problematic spot. They were saying that deposits built up? Pipes were rusted out and repaired and patched up too many times to be a long-term fix?” I shrugged. “I’m not sure on the details, but the pressure was packed in there and it really made a mess of his cabin.”

“I can just imagine. And so close to winter.” She shivered. “I hope he’ll have some luck finding another place.”

I did too. Deep down, I was excited about it on his behalf. He’d invited me to go with him to look at the places and do some pros-and-cons investigating, but I hadn’t committed to an answer. Going house hunting, even if it was just for him, seemed like such a couples thing to do. We weren’t a couple—yet. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to be half of a couple, even with him.

I had to do more soul searching and recovering to feel ready for a relationship. It was far, far too soon after the hell I left behind with David. Or what I thought I’d left behind. His return, showing up at my door then hiding nearby, wasn’t a sign of him staying in my past.

“Hey, Heather?” Fergus asked, popping his head around the doorframe to the breakroom Nance and I were wrapping up our lunch at. We hadn’t talked too much about that job in Wisconsin Janelle mentioned, but I was sure Nance wouldn’t give up on convincing me to stay in Burton.

“Yeah?” I looked back at him.

“I ordered lunch to pick up at the café but I don’t have time to walk down there. Could you grab it for me, pretty please? If you have time.”

“Sure, I can do that.”

Nance stood as I did. “Want me to come?”

I knew she was asking out of worry with David, but I wanted to be brave. It was a mere stroll down Main Street, passing the four buildings that stood between the café and the bank. I wouldn’t be alone. People would be out and about.

“No, that’s okay,” I told her as I threw my trash away and grabbed my coat.

David didn’t jump out at me on the short walk. Not many were out and about, actually, and I bet the brutal chill in the air dissuaded many from walking in town today.

I reached for the door to the café, shivering as I entered the warmth of the small eatery. Heat blasted at my face from the vent positioned over the front door. Before the bell finished chiming to announce my arrival, I glanced up and spotted Nevaeh rushing out of the bathrooms toward the back.

She’d taken off yesterday so strangely, seeming sick then perky. “Hi, Neva—”

I didn’t have a chance to finish. Without looking up at who was in her way, she clutched her purse to her side and plowed past me. Her bony shoulder hit my arm as she rushed by, and I staggered to the side from spinning at the force of her knock.

“Damn,” I muttered.

Another hit of icy air accosted me from behind as she barreled into the door and exited without a word or glance back.

“Can I help you?” the café owner asked from behind the long counter.

Mr. Downing was old enough to retire, but he seemed to be one of those older souls who feared they’d stop and go stagnant if they didn’t stay busy with a job to report to.

I looked up at the counter and nodded, recalling with a bitter annoyance all the times he’d scowled at me like he did at Nevaeh rushing out.

“I’m here to pick up a takeout order for Fergus,” I said.

He nodded once. “It’ll be a minute yet.”

“Thanks.”

Since I didn’t go to the restroom at the bank on my lunch break, I figured I could now while I waited.

I walked to the back, rubbing my arms from the chill that hadn’t left me from the short walk. In the narrow restroom, I took the only available stall and did my business. Before I exited, though, an item on the floor snagged my attention.

A slim stick lay on the tile floor. Plastic and white, it was a telltale object that I recognized it instantly. I’d never used a pregnancy test, but like most people in the world, I knew one when I saw it.

What the hell?

I glanced around the bathroom, connecting the dots of what had to be true about this discovery.

Nevaeh?

She’d just rushed out of the bathroom. This was the only stall. No one else had come in during the half minute of my entry to the café.

Oh, my goodness.

A clear mark indicated that the test was positive. Someone had taken this test and learned that they were expecting. It seemed so foolish to assume anything about a huge fact like this. I didn’t want to jump to any conclusions.

Nevaeh didn’t have to be the one who’d taken this test just because she’d recently rushed out of here, but I didn’t know what else to think.

Holy shit!

I was right. I’d been guessing right, playing into that quiet but insistent hunch that had formed when I noticed the pattern of the teen seeming sick.

Not sick, but pregnant.

I took a picture of the test on the floor, using it as a time stamp to what I found here. If it was hers, if she was pregnant, she had to fess up about it. Hell, if she counted on Roarke to help her through life, he had a right to know.

Regardless of what she planned to do, she had to make decisions one way or the other. It wouldn’t be right to hide this from her uncle if she would need help to handle the situation.

Who’s the father?

All I knew about any man in Nevaeh’s was what Roarke told me. He’d shared that when Nevaeh had a boyfriend, they expected her to give them a free ride. To count on her for money and such.

It wasn’t hard to imagine that she’d be hooking up with someone when she wasn’t staying with Roarke, but getting knocked up was a far bigger deal than sleeping around and using someone’s couch as an unreliable sense of home.

I exited the bathroom, glancing around the café. Only one other customer was there, a woman with a toddler seated off to the side.

Well, it couldn’t have been Mr. Downing’s test in there...

I furrowed my brow, surprised by this discovery, and headed to get Fergus’s lunch.

“Excuse me, Mr. Downing?” I asked, taking a chance to be nosy for once.

He raised his brows as he slid the bag with Fergus’s lunch over the counter.

“This is a strange question, but has anyone else used the women’s room lately?” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder, as if he wouldn’t know what I was talking about.

“No.” He scowled. “Don’t tell me that punk left a huge mess in there again.”

“Nevaeh?” I asked.

He nodded, unhappy. “That punk is nothing but a damn grifter, coming in as she pleases, leaving a big ass mess in there. Last week, I had to kick her out for dying her damn hair in the sink.” He shook his head, snarling. “Homeless, good-for-nothing punk. I don’t trust her.”

She wasn’t homeless. Roarke made it clear she could always go stay with him. And I couldn’t believe anyone was ever truly good for nothing. Everyone had a purpose, even if it was a bad one, like David.

“It isn’t wise to be so quick with judgments like that, Mr. Downing,” I replied, keeping the sass out of my tone but being firm. “Not without getting to know a person first.”

Part of my retort was a belated defense of myself. When I was younger, he, and others in town, were quick to judge me just because they assumed I had to be like my parents who earned their reputations.

Mr. Downing opened and closed his mouth, seeming to be stuck with what to say. Or if he wanted to say anything at all. Finally, he did. Hanging his head for a moment, he lost the scowl and frowned. “I understand what you’re saying, young lady.”

It was my turn to raise my brows. “Do you?”

He nodded, calm and almost apologetic. “I did that when you were younger,” he admitted. “I’m sorry I was harsh on you all those years ago when you were younger.”

“Banning me from coming in. Accusing me of trying to skip on bills. Refusing to hire me as a dishwasher.” I listed it all with a droll tone.

He nodded again. “I’m sorry. You didn’t end up like your parents at all.”

“I didn’t.”

“I was wrong to assume you’d be just like them,” he added. “But since you’ve been here in town, you seem like a decent young lady. Working at the bank and not causing any trouble. Not asking for handouts and such all the time like your folks did.”

I nodded once. “I appreciate that, Mr. Downing.” It was a huge start in the right direction, someone—particularly someone old-fashioned like him—owning up for his past mistakes and too-speedy judgments.

“It’s not a crime to give people a chance to prove themselves,” I said, rolling with this bravery to speak up for once, even in defense of Nevaeh, who seemed to earn opinions of her behavior. “And while I’ll try to be open to giving people a second chance, I really can’t say I know her that well either.”

He grunted, shaking his head. “She’s the only one who went in there since I opened,” he said, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. “And I know she messes it up every time. Never buys anything in here. Never pays for a thing. Just uses it as a bathroom and goes. She’s like a grifter around here.”

“I think she has a home, though, John,” the woman seated with the toddler said.

I turned to face her, realizing she was listening in.

“I’ve seen her at that brownstone a couple of streets over.”

Mr. Downing scoffed. “That ugly apartment building Jerry owns?”

The lady nodded and smirked. “Yeah. We live on the third floor,” she said, wiping the toddler’s mouth. “All I can afford as a stay-at-home-mom with a lousy remote freelance job.”

“Nevaeh has a place there?” I asked her.

“I don’t know if she’s renting something, but she’s been hanging around there near a couple of apartments with these losers. A couple of men who rent there aren’t the best sort of guys to be around.”

“How so?” I asked.

“One deals drugs, I think. Weed and whatever. Marty’s stopped there a few times.”

None of this could be good news. Nothing about this filled me with hope.

Nevaeh was pregnant and potentially staying with a deadbeat in a rougher side of town.

I would always advocate for someone to have the right to their privacy, but this seemed bad.

She was nineteen, legally an adult, but not one who’d be responsible for her actions.

If she planned to be responsible for someone else, for her child, it seemed like it was imperative that I share this news with Roarke—sooner than later.