Love Inspired November 2013 #2 (59 page)

“Not really.” She sat on her heels. “It's just that...”

“That what?” Allison pressed.

“I think Chase was flirting with me. But it was probably my imagination.”

“It was not your imagination. You're a very attractive woman, and he's a very nice man. And he's single. He'd have to be blind not to notice you and be interested.”

“Maybe.” Vivian pushed to her feet. “He doesn't know I'm hoping to adopt a baby. When he finds out, he'll probably lose interest in me in a hurry.”

Allison's jaw dropped. “Why on earth would he do that?”

“Because in the past year, two guys I had been dating dropped me like an overdue book when I told them I couldn't have children of my own.” The memory still had the power to sting and made her uneasy about mentioning to anyone her inability to reproduce.

“Oh, honey.” Standing, Allison rested her hand on Vivian's shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “Chase may not be like that. You can't think that all men are like the two who dumped you. If he's interested, you need to give him a chance.”

”It doesn't seem right to keep something like that a secret.”

“Well, yes, I suppose that's true. But just because he flirted a little doesn't mean you have to blurt it out right away or tell him you've applied to adopt a baby. You may find you don't even like him.”

If her reaction this morning was any sign, Vivian was pretty sure she'd like him a lot. She certainly felt a spark.

“If Chase is the right man for you,” Allison continued, “he might be surprised about you adopting on your own. I know I was when you first told me. But I soon realized how much you want a family, and I'm all for it. The sooner, the better, right? I mean, I get to be Auntie Alli, don't I?”

Laughing at Allison's sweet request, Vivian felt some of the tension leave her. “Absolutely!”

“Good.” Allison glanced at her shiny new engagement ring and twisted it around her finger. “Meanwhile I get to work on being the best stepmother ever to Sam's twins.”

“I'm sure Rosie and Nicky already love you.”

Vivian felt a twinge of envy. There had been a rash of engagements going on in Bygones lately. Just last Friday, Lily Farnsworth, who owned the flower shop next door to the bookstore, had married Tate Bronson, a local farmer and single dad. And now Allison was happily making plans for her wedding to the high school basketball coach.

“I certainly hope they love me. I already adore them.” Allison patted Vivian's shoulder again. “I'll leave it to you to talk with the folks at the animal shelter. We're going to need to put together a flyer about Doggie Daze to post around town and get an announcement in the
Gazette.
”

“Maybe we can even get Whitney to write a story about it. That would be good publicity.” Whitney, the newspaper's one reporter, was always looking for some local angle.

“It would indeed. I'll give her a call. And since you are way better at graphics than I am, I'll let you design the flyer.”

“I'd love to. My inner artist enjoys being let loose from time to time.”

Between assisting customers and designing the Doggie Daze flyer, Viv saw the rest of the day go by quickly.

After Allison decided to close for the day, Vivian grabbed her purse and jacket from the back room, and stepped outside to head home.

It was well into twilight; the old-fashioned wrought-iron streetlights were lit, casting circles of yellow on the brick street that ran through downtown. Wrought-iron benches spaced periodically along the sidewalk stood empty and only a few parked cars remained.

As she strolled to her car, she noticed the shop lights were off at Fluff & Stuff. In the upstairs apartment where Chase lived, a shadow crossed a lit but curtained window. Chase was such a nice, down-to-earth guy; he seemed almost too good to be true.

But she'd been burned twice and was leery about how he might react when she had to tell him about her inability to have babies.
If
they got that far.

Exhaling, she climbed into her compact car for the short ride home. No sense worrying about that now, she told herself.

Because her parents lived thirty minutes from Bygones, Vivian had rented a small house closer to her job at the library when she had first started to work there. But then the town had run out of money, had cut the funds for her position and had reduced the number of hours the library was open.

Vivian had been fortunate to be hired by Allison to help at the bookstore.

Her house formerly belonged to a foreman on the now-bankrupt wheat farm. The two-bedroom clapboard house served her well. And the rent was modest enough that she could still afford it, even though she was only working part-time at Happy Endings.

She stopped on the road in front of her mailbox and grabbed the day's mail, then drove under the carport.

Taking her mail and purse, she went in the front door and flicked on the light.

Essie, her calico cat, hopped down from her favorite spot on the back of the couch, tiptoeing over to meet Vivian.

“Hi there, little lady.” She crouched down to pet the cat. “Have you had a busy day watching out the window?”

Essie responded with a loud, rumbling purr.

“Yes, it sounds like it was very exciting.” Vivian tossed her purse and mail on the blond-wood end table by the couch. Although she had purchased mostly used furnishings, she'd perked up the room with two bright red garden stools for coffee tables and a couple of matching red throw pillows, accented with a green-and-white afghan her mother had crocheted tossed over the back of the couch. On the longest wall, she had hung framed posters of colorful gardens from around the world.

Definitely homier than plain walls and a beige couch.

She stepped into the second bedroom, where Roger was noisily running through his tunnel, showing off his speed.

“Hi, guy. Did you get in lots of training today?” She peered into his cage, which sat on top of an old wooden desk. “Chase asked about you this morning.”

Roger peeked out of his tunnel and gazed up at her with his beady little eyes.

“I know. He really loves animals—even little guys like you.”

As she glanced around the small bedroom, she pictured a crib and changing table, maybe a mural of Noah's ark on the wall.

Just because she couldn't bear her own children didn't mean she couldn't have a family. She didn't need a man to tell her it was okay to fulfill her dream. She was taking charge of her own life.

Essie wound her way between Vivian's legs, still purring loudly.

“I know, sweetie. You want some dinner, don't you?”

In the kitchen, Vivian poured some dry food into the cat dish, placed it on the floor for Essie and returned to the living room. Plopping down on the couch, she kicked off her shoes and picked up the mail.

An ad for a pizza place on Highway 135. A solicitation from some charity she'd never heard of. And a—

The envelope—bearing the return address of one of several adoption agencies she had contacted about adopting a baby—trembled in her hand.

She swallowed hard and licked her lips.

Please, please let it be good news.

Carefully she opened the envelope and removed the single sheet of stationery.

Dear Miss Duncan,
Vivian read.
We appreciate your interest in adopting a child from our agency. However—

Her eyes began to blur the words:
single woman...limited income...not financially equipped to support a child.

She covered her mouth with her hand.
It's only one agency turning me down,
she told herself. She'd applied to several others. Somewhere there was a baby waiting for a mommy. Waiting for
her
to hold and love him.

She straightened her shoulders.

Tomorrow was another day. She was confident her dream would come true. She swallowed her tears and lifted her chin.

All in God's time.

Copyright © 2013 by Harlequin Books S.A.

ISBN-13: 9781460321911

SEASON OF HOPE

Copyright © 2013 by Virginia Munoz

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