Kara Lennox: The Pregnancy Surprise

The second book in the Second Sons series, 2008

Dear Reader,

Alpha heroes-those arrogant, I’m-in-control-here males-certainly have their appeal. Or those dark, brooding, wounded heroes…I love ’em! But give me a man with brains over brawn and I completely melt.

Reece Remington is just such a man. Unlike his take-charge cousin Cooper (from Reluctant Partners, the first in the SECOND SONS series) or his devil-may-care ladies’ man cousin Max (whom you’ll meet in the third book of the trilogy, The Good Father ), Reece is a man more comfortable with a computer spreadsheet than a woman. He’s handsome as sin, but hides behind his glasses. He always plays it safe. He needs a woman to wake him up and teach him to enjoy life, but he doesn’t know that, either! What fun I had matching up Reece with happy-go-lucky Sara.

My editor said, “I love all the Remington men, but I have a soft spot for Reece.” That’s how I feel, too. If I were going to marry any of the Remingtons in real life, Reece would be my choice. I hope you love him as much as I do. (And maybe I’m like Sara more than I’d care to admit!)

All best,

Kara Lennox

The crash from the kitchen was so loud, it sounded like a car coming through the wall.

Sara Kaufman’s heart hammered inside her chest as she dropped her dust cloth and ran toward the noise.

“Help! Sara, are you there?”

It was Miss Greer. The thready voice calling for help confirmed Sara’s worst fears. Her elderly employer was hurt.

Sara reached the kitchen door at the same time as Reece Remington, one of the guests at the Sunsetter Bed-and-Breakfast where Sara lived and worked. They bumped each other trying to fit through the door side by side.

Reece stepped back and let Sara enter first. “Was that Miss Greer?” Concern etched his handsome face.

Sara was about to answer, but Miss Greer called again. “Sara?” The voice came from the open pantry. “Is that you?”

“I’m coming, Miss Greer!” Sara and Reece rushed to the pantry. Through the doorway they could see their white-haired landlady lying amidst an avalanche of boxes and canned goods. Flour covered her face-it looked as if an open bag of the stuff had fallen on her head.

“Oh, my God, what happened?” Sara’s first instinct was to reach for Miss Greer and get her back on her feet, but Reece stopped her with a hand to her shoulder.

“Don’t move her,” he said. “If she’s injured, that might make things worse.”

“What happened?” Sara asked again.

“I’m not sure.” The elderly lady sounded less panicked now that help had arrived. “Maybe I slipped on something. When I started to fall, I grabbed the shelf and pulled half the pantry down on top of me and now I’m stuck. Thank goodness it was the flour that hit me in the head, rather than the economy-size can of cling peaches.”

“Are you injured, Miss Greer?” Reece asked. “Does anything hurt?”

“Now, don’t fuss over me,” she groused, moving her head around so they could see she at least hadn’t broken her neck. “I think I can stand up if you two help.”

Sara and Reece both squeezed into the pantry. It was a tight fit, with all three of them in there, and under other circumstances Sara would have enjoyed the proximity. Reece was a thoroughly delicious man, tall and rangy with broad shoulders showcased perfectly by the starched, button-down shirts he wore. If only he would relax a little…

Reece took one of Miss Greer’s arms and Sara took the other, and they tried to pull her up. But they’d moved her only a few inches when she howled in pain and they were forced to gently set her back down.

“Where does it hurt?” Sara asked.

“My hip.”

“I’m calling an ambulance.” Reece exited the pantry, which at least made it easier for Sara to breathe in there. All that maleness crammed into such a small space was a little distracting.

“I’m sure it’s not serious,” Sara said, though she wasn’t sure at all.

It scared Sara to see Miss Greer like this.

Sara had worked at the Port Clara, Texas, B and B for more than ten years. The older woman wasn’t just her boss; she was family.

“What am I going to do?” Miss Greer asked. “What if I’ve broken something? You hear about old people breaking their hips and never coming home again.”

Sara wished she had an answer, or even some believably reassuring words, but she’d never been much good in an emergency. All she could think to do was hold Miss Greer’s hand and squeeze it.

Reece was already on the phone. He was calm, no sign of panic, and Sara took several deep breaths, trying to follow suit. The paramedics would come, and maybe they would determine it wasn’t a serious injury.

Then they could all laugh over the mishap, and Sara could clean up the pantry, fix the broken shelf and make soup and sandwiches for everyone.

She was glad Reece was here. He obviously knew how to handle a crisis.

She squeezed Miss Greer’s hand again. “How bad does it hurt?”

“It’s not too bad if I lie still,” the old lady said, but her brow was creased with tension.

Sara nibbled at her lower lip. Maybe Miss Greer’s hip wasn’t broken. Maybe she’d just…sprained it or something.

Reece returned and got down on his knees beside Sara. “The ambulance is on its way, Miss Greer. Can we do anything to make you more comfortable while we wait?”

“I suppose I should get ready for a hospital stay,” Miss Greer grumbled. “Sara, you go pack me a bag. I want my own nightgown so I don’t have to wear one of those things that’s open down the back so everyone can ogle your hindquarters. Reece, you go find my pocketbook. I’ll need my Medicare card.”

The woman gave orders like a general.

“One of us should stay with you,” Sara said.

“Why? I’m not going anywhere.”

Sara exchanged a look with Reece as she pushed to her feet, and tried not to smile. Miss Greer must not be in too bad a shape if she could still be ornery.

Sara had only been in Miss Greer’s bedroom a couple of times in all the years she had worked there. Her landlady was intensely private. The room was as neat and clean as a monk’s cell. Sara hunted around until she found an overnight case on the top shelf of the closet.

She reached for it, but it was a few inches too high.

“Let me get that.” Reece came up behind her and stretched his arms over her head, easily reaching the case. She felt the heat of his body almost, but not quite, touching her back, and her skin tingled with awareness.

Whether he meant to or not, he’d tempted her since he and his two cousins had moved into the B and B a few weeks ago to deal with an inheritance from their uncle.

Reece handed her the small, cloth-covered case. “Here you go. Do you know where her purse is?”

Sara looked around. “Ah. Hanging on the hook on the back of the door.”

She opened the dresser and haphazardly filled the suitcase with nightgowns, underwear and socks, because Miss Greer’s feet were always cold, even in summer. Reece, the fake alligator purse clutched between his large hands, watched her.

“What?” she said. “You think I’m doing it wrong?”

“She might like her clothes folded.”

“You think I should fold Miss Greer’s underwear?”

“She obviously likes things neat. Maybe you should pack a robe, too. And a toothbrush.”

“You want to do this?” she asked Reece, who seemed not entirely comfortable amid all the accoutrements of an old lady. He looked excruciatingly out of place surrounded by cabbage roses, lace doilies and the faint scent of violet water.