Page 34 of Mine to Keep

Chapter7

Bryn spent the next week unpacking, building websites, making jewelry, and trying to get used to being at Zadie’s beck and call. The hardest part was always figuring out what she wanted. The nurses had told her that, within a few weeks, she’d be able to tell based on her cries and the time of day.

But that hadn’t happened yet. Of course, it hadn’t been that long.

She put her feet up and leaned back on the chair on the back patio after checking the baby monitor. If all things went as they had last night, she had about forty minutes before Zadie started screaming.

Bryn tilted her head toward the setting sun.

No sooner did she let out a long, cleansing breath than her cell went off. It wasn’t a text or a call. It was the front doorbell.

She raised her phone and stared at a policewoman standing on her front porch.

Bryn’s feet hit the concrete patio. Her heart dropped to the pit of her gut. For a split second, she thought about not answering. Visions of grabbing her daughter and slipping out the back door filled her brain.

But she watched the national news every night. Hell, she’d even started listening to that obnoxious Suzie woman’s podcast, just in case. If someone were looking for her, she figured she’d have heard about it, especially with how vocal her mother-in-law had been when Bryn’s husband died. It had been hell. Worse than hell. It was like nothing Bryn had ever experienced. And when she found out two days after the funeral that she was pregnant, she’d known that she had to get out from under Barb Perish’s thumb.

Bryn tapped the screen and cleared her throat. “Hello,” she managed to croak out. “Can I help you?”

“Sorry to stop by unannounced. My name is Rebecca Kirby. I’m Jamison’s mother.” She held up a basket. “I brought over some welcome-to-the-neighborhood gifts in case you can’t make it tomorrow for some reason.”

“I’ll be right there.” It would be rude if she didn’t let Jamison’s mom in, even though Bryn really didn’t want to entertain anyone. Especially a police officer. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust cops. Most of them were good people—the best. And they protected their communities.

But some could be bought. She’d learned this firsthand when she’d called one after her husband used her body as his personal punching bag.

However, she had no reason to believe that the chief of police and Jamison’s mother was on the take or had ever heard of her late husband.

The nice thing about having Jamison around was that he did his thing with measuring or hammering with the built-in cabinets and bookshelves he was building, but he didn’t require her to entertain him all the time. She liked that.

What she didn’t like was how he made her belly hot with the kind of desire she hadn’t felt for a man since she’d first met Timothy.

Thankfully, if Jamison felt the same attraction, he did his best to keep her at arm’s length. He came over, he flirted with Zadie like there was no tomorrow, he went over his expectations for their employment agreement, and then he went to town on his work for her cabinets. Even though she enjoyed having Jamison around, she needed the project completed. She couldn’t afford to become attached to him or used to having him in her home on a regular basis. She needed her independence.

“Hi,” she said, pulling open the door with a bright smile. “You didn’t have to come all the way over to drop that off.” She stepped aside to let Rebecca in.

“Not a problem. I live right outside of town.” Rebecca handed her the basket, which was filled with baby items. “Are you settling in?”

“I am, thank you.” Bryn set the basket on the table in the family room. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

“I’d love a water. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Would you like to sit out back?” Again, not that Bryn wanted to entertain, but she wouldn’t send the woman packing, either.

“I can’t stay very long,” Rebecca said as she took the water bottle and followed Bryn to the backyard. “But I did want to stop by and assure you that Suzie Walton will not be bothering you again.”

“Oh. Um. Thank you.”

“Jamison told me she was trying to get you to talk about the delivery. And, to be honest, she’d turn around and make it all about Jamison and start asking him personal questions that he doesn’t want to discuss.”

Bryn wasn’t about to let on that she knew anything about that. It wasn’t her business. “Thank you. I’m a private person and don’t want my daughter’s image all over the news. Besides, it was kind of embarrassing.”

“I can imagine.” Rebecca smiled, and Bryn saw a bit of Jamison in the grin.

“My son hasn’t told me very much other than he helped you deliver your baby in the middle of the road.”

Bryn found that statement interesting since that had made the evening news, which she still worried might make it back to Barb and Mark Perish. If anyone recognized her or thought she looked familiar and sent the story to her late husband’s family, Bryn didn’t know if she had it in her to disappear again.

She knew she didn’t have the funds. Every penny she’d hidden from Timothy over the years had gone into making sure she could start fresh.

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