He rubbed a hand over his smooth-shaven jaw. “Then why did ye tell me?”

“Because I was trying to do the right thing.” I tossed down money on the bill. “I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and my children.”

He threw my money back at me. “Yer money is no good here from now on. And I plan to take care of me children, too.”

“I would never deny them their father,” I said carefully to be sure he understood me, “but that doesn’t mean I need your help.”

“Ye may not think ye don’t, but mark me words, yer going to get it.” He thrust a finger in my direction as he stood up. “A McGinnis never breaks his word.” Then the stubborn man stormed back over behind the bar.

I could be stubborn too. I blew out a frustrated breath…

What the hell had I gotten myself into?

Chapter Six

The next day I met old man Truman Winters at my mailbox out front on Lighthouse Lane. Truman was nearly blind and a bit forgetful. Even with his coke-bottle glasses, he still delivered the wrong mail to people on a daily basis. He really should retire, but he was the nicest man in town, and being Mayflower’s mail carrier gave him a purpose since his wife passed away years ago.

Zoe hooked him up with pies each week, Harm gave him a different essential oil each week, Morti had coffee talks weekly, and I had my staff give him a therapeutic massage monthly. He was a special man to us all.

“Good morning, Ms. Eisenhower.” Truman tipped his head gallantly, his mailbag slung across his body and over his shoulder.”

“Good morning, Truman.” I smiled wide. “How’s the back?”

“Right as rain, I supposed, though I don’t know how right rain is. All I know is it’s going to rain soon. My knees are telling me so something fierce.”

I looked at the cloudless sky, but past experience told me Truman knew best when it came to the weather. “Glad to hear that massage is helping. Come back any time. We’ll get those knees fixed.”

“You girls are so good to me.” He shook his gray head and pushed his thick glasses up his nose. “Don’t know what I did to deserve all the love.”

“Look at you.” I winked. “What’s not to love?”

He blushed. “Speaking of love, I hear congratulations are in order for you and Mr. McGinnis. Twins! Isn’t that somethin’?”

The rumor mill in Mayflower was about as rampant as they came. I should have known everyone would know by now, especially since Gerty and Gabby Rogers had been at the doctor’s the same day as me. Nothing got by those two.

“It sure is something.” I smiled through clenched teeth.

“Best of luck to you both. Babies are a miracle if you’re lucky enough to be blessed with them.” His eyes grew misty. He and his late wife had never conceived. This town was all he had left. “Oh, before I forget, I got a package for you today.”

I took the padded envelope from him and discreetly checked the name to be sure it belonged to me. It did, so I smiled. “Thank you, Truman. You have a good day…despite the rain.” I glanced at the still cloudless sky.

“Gonna be a doozy,” he said, and hurried on his way just as a rumble of thunder sounded way off in the distance.

I just shook my head and opened my package as I walked back toward my front door. And stopped. And stared. I sat down on a chair on the front porch of my building. A scarlet letter, only this one was an H instead of an A. The word Harlot was written across a single piece of paper. No signature. Cowards.

I wasn’t an adulteress or a harlot. I was simply an unwed mother.

This town was so old-fashioned. Most likely Gerty and Gabby—the town’s resident busybody troublemakers—had heard that Matt had proposed, and I said no. If you could even call it a proposal. It had been more like an order. Nothing romantic about it. This wasn’t the seventeenth century, for crying out loud. I wasn’t going to marry a man who didn’t even love me.

I wasn’t going to marry a man, period.

End of story.

Amen.

All I wanted was the same respect they had shown my grandmother. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so, yet they expected me to continue supporting her causes with my inheritance. I sighed, feeling emotional. I wasn’t a weepy kind of woman, but ever since my diagnosis, I felt on the verge of tears constantly.

Diagnosis.

I chuckled inwardly. A diagnosis implied there was something wrong with me. Babies weren’t a disease, but pregnancy was a condition. And being pregnant with twins at forty was a high-risk condition at that. Chocolate. Maybe that was what I needed. I stood and was about to enter my house when I saw Bitsy Beaumont walking down the street.

Bitsy was a party planner, but she was more the traditional kind, which this town was all about. Not long ago she and Zoe had been competing to win the bid to plan the Labor Day Bash for the mayor, and he had been looking for something fresh and new. Zoe had turned her catering business into a full-blown modern party-planning business, winning the bid.

Bitsy left town shortly after. She normally looked so put together, like Martha Stewart, but the competition had taken its toll on her. She’d left town looking frazzled. We all had assumed she needed a break from Mayflower and had taken her business somewhere else to start over.

I studied her closer…

Bitsy Beaumont was pregnant!

But why were people stopping her, smiling, and acting like she was the town’s pride and joy? No scarlet letter for her. Meanwhile, the old gossips crossed the street when they saw me coming.

Principal Brimstone came out of a bakery and handed Bitsy a pastry and a glass of milk, then slid his arm around her as they walked my way. As they drew closer, I saw the last of the sunlight shine off the massive ring on her finger, and realization dawned.

Bitsy had said yes.

A flash of what my life might have looked like had I said yes to Matt was right in front of me. I could have had it all: a man to call my own, a family that was mine…respect. Instead, I was the town harlot, while she was the not-so-virgin Mary.

I turned toward the door to my salon, intending to raid my chocolate stash and eat it all in one sitting. Even if I had heartburn for days, it would be worth it. I reached for the doorknob when a voice rang out behind me.

“Tiffany Eisenhower, how nice to see you again,” the feminine voice purred.

I pasted on a smile and slowly turned around. “Bitsy Beaumont, what a surprise.”

“It’s Brimstone now. Bitsy Brimstone, right, darling?” She smiled up at the man beside her, running a hand over her rounded stomach. I didn’t know anything about babies, but if I was two months along, she had to be four or five.

His face flushed bright red, the thin strands of black hair combed over his bald spot slipping as he cleared his throat. Pulling at the collar of his shirt, he replied, “Uh…right, darling.”

“Congratulations to the both of you,” I said.

“Thank you. Isn’t it a miracle?” Bitsy shook her head in wonder. “I didn’t think I could have children.”

“Neither did I,” Brimstone muttered.

Bitsy went on as if she hadn’t heard him. “This town has welcomed me back with open arms, all because my Roger made an honest woman out of me.”

“Yes, well, a man of honor does the right thing.” He had the nerve to look down his nose at me. “Or tries to.”

“Well, I for one, don’t care to be in a loveless marriage just because I’m pregnant.” I looked at Bitsy, but my comment went completely over her head.