Absentminded Angel(Divine Creek Ranch 20)(5)

Dorothy said, “Let me be blunt, then, dear. Your tendency toward forgetfulness and self-centeredness is known far and wide in our family. What was it your father called you when you were little?”

Presley Ann held back a growl. “I’ve forgotten.” Little dingbat.

“Ah, my point exactly.” Her aunt’s face broke into a smile that didn’t reach her eyes as she darted a glance at the couple. “Rather conveniently, for your sake, Jules and his wife Marvelle, here, wish to adopt a baby. They’d be willing to pay all your expenses and take it off of your hands. They’re not from around here. You’d never see them—or it—ever again. No muss. No fuss.”

Whit’s fussing grew worse and Presley Ann’s hands trembled as she grabbed a receiving blanket, praying to God that she didn’t fumble in front of these imbeciles. She draped her shoulder, tugged at her snaps, and put Whit to her breast to ease him. The unusual sensation from earlier shimmered through her so powerfully she flushed.

She felt a small amount of satisfaction when Dorothy fanned herself and said, “Oh, dear, oh my goodness. So earthy. I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Perhaps a nurse could bring you a bottle while we talk.” She continued to chatter but Presley Ann focused her attention on Whit. Her aunt’s blathering had a way of making her glaze over.

Presley Ann glanced at the couple and caught Jules staring at her as if he hoped to see her breast through the receiving blanket, which she’d trapped securely behind her shoulder. Pervert.

Dorothy caught her breath and said, “Anyway. You could go back to your life. Get busy and lose all of that copious baby weight you’ve gained, and Jules and Marvelle can take that burden completely off your hands.”

She ignored the dig about her weight as another emotion superseded any hurt feelings. Presley Ann had heard about mama bears before. She believed in that animal instinct because it was roaring to life inside her right there in her hospital room. She held up a finger and stopped her aunt in mid-syllable.

Looking up at the couple, who were both frowning now, Presley Ann said, “Get out before I ask the nurse to call the police.”

Dorothy halted the couple when they took a step back. “Now wait just a minute, missy—”

Presley Ann cut her off. “This is my son, Whitman Merritt Woodworth. He is not an it, or a burden. I love him and he is mine. I’m not giving him up to your friends or anybody else. Aunt Dorothy, you and I are done.” She glared at the couple and had to quell the urge to climb from the bed and chase them from the room. “You are still standing there.” The couple backed up another step and glanced nervously at Dorothy.

Dorothy faked another smile. “A mother’s instincts can be very strong. I was much the same way with my Wilhelmina. But let’s wait and see how you feel when you haven’t slept for three days. You’ll find out how expensive formula is when the newness of this…practice”—she waved her hand at Presley Ann suckling her son—“has worn off and you’re tired of having him at the tit night and day. I’ll never understand why a lovely woman would want to do that to herself…like a milk cow or something. Unsanitary.”

Presley Ann was reaching for the call button, when a deep, masculine voice from the doorway said, “Actually, ma’am, nursing is the healthiest thing she can do for either of them, and it’s more sanitary than using a bottle. I think Miss Woodworth has made it clear that you’ve worn out your welcome.” Jared and Kendry McCulloch stood in the doorway with fire in their eyes.

“And who might you be?” Aunt Dorothy asked as she looked down her bulbous nose at them.

“We’re friends of Miss Woodworth’s.”

An ugly gleam shone in her aunt’s eyes, and she smiled and nodded as if proving her point. “Ah, I see. Both of you, eh?” She pointed at Whit under the blanket and smirked. “That baby is neither brown-haired nor blond so I’ll hazard a guess neither of you is the father.” Turning to Presley Ann she said, “I see this as a win-win situation, dear. My acquaintances get their heart’s fondest desire and you”—she waved a negligent hand behind her at the men—“get to have yours.”

Jared and Kendry’s eyes were trained on Presley Ann, but she could see the anger glowing in those blue gazes as Dorothy kept speaking.

“Don’t you understand, dear?” Dorothy said, as if speaking to a simpleton. “If it’s them you want—both of them—just give up the baby and go your merry way. And I speak from experience that even if you do everything right, he’ll still disappoint you. That’s just how it is for mothers. Why burden yourself and your poor, dear overworked father with an out-of-wedlock grandchild? He’s on the school board, the business man’s association man of the year for three years running, and a fine upstanding member of this conservative community. The shame. Why do that to him?”