shook her head.
At the end of the driveway, she turned up the hill. “I’d better get back. My son…isn’t Van’s responsibility.”
Information on that missing husband would require digging. The thought, completely out of character, stopped him in his tracks. “Okay. Nice to meet you.”
“You, too. Let us know if you need anything.” Gas-lit Victorian lamps helped her up the drive. A sudden thought turned her toward him, and he took a step in her direction. She pressed her fingers to her lips, and then she rammed her hands into the shallow pockets of her sweats. “See you around.”
Gravel spurted behind her as she ran up the hill.
What had she almost said?
He’d give a lot to know. He’d give a lot to run at her side. His doctor had insisted on walks at first. Feeling like his great-aunt’s favorite old beagle, Aidan lumbered down the hill. He stared at the sky above, mouthing his frustration in words he wouldn’t have spoken to Beth Tully.
He’d refused to take the time to see his own cardiologist on the way out of D.C., but he’d agreed to an appointment with a local cardiologist to get rid of the strictures against activity.
And then he could run like that woman. He laughed out loud, and his step lightened.
STILL BREATHING HARD, Beth Haddon Tully climbed white-painted stairs to her brother’s porch. Aidan Nikolas. His business deals had skyrocketed Nikolas Enterprises to international prominence after his parents, the founders, had retired.
She almost dropped onto one of the Adirondack chairs that squatted along the sweeping porch. Aidan Nikolas could save her—save her lodge anyway. The bank had turned down her loan application today, and Jonathan Barr, who’d clearly forgotten she was more than the child who’d been his daughter’s high school best friend, had let slip the news that he suspected Van would be visiting him for a loan in the near future as well—in the Haddon tradition of trying to save failing family ventures.
Van must be around the house somewhere. He’d returned from a business trip earlier in the afternoon. She ran inside the blue-and-white period Victorian she wouldn’t have been able to afford if lottery tickets started flying at her head.
“Van?”
He didn’t answer. Beth took off her shoes to keep from spreading dirt or wet grass. Van’s housekeeper, the dour Mrs. Carleton, wouldn’t approve. “Eli?” Beth’s eleven-year-old son had been playing video games, but she’d asked him to take time out for reading before she’d left for her run.
“Hmm?” he said from the living room.
She went to the doorway. Beside Eli, a big, black Lab looked up, thumping her tail at Beth.
“Lucy, girl.” Beth ventured into the room and ran a hand over the dog’s silky head. “Have you walked her yet?”
“Read? Walk the dog? Anything else I should do?”
“I’ll think of plenty.” She bent to Lucy, trying not to smile at Eli’s tone. After the lodge had burned down, he’d run to his father’s house, and he’d been reluctant to come back, claiming he was only a burden to her.
Since then, Eli had been quiet and too cooperative. Bad dreams had begun to plague him. Every time he got up in the middle of the night, Beth heard him. Despite sweat ringing his T-shirt, tears in his eyes and gasping breaths he worked like a grown man to control, he’d never admit something was bothering him.
His simple preteen testiness made Beth want to hug him till he ran from her, screaming like a girl.
“A walk should just about do it,” she said. “And it’ll be good for both of you. You don’t get enough exercise since we moved in with Uncle Van.”
“I’d get plenty if we could afford to replace my skateboard.”
Already turning toward the stairs, she stopped. “I wish we could,” she said, hearing the bank manager’s voice from their afternoon meeting.
“I hate to see you struggling,” he’d said, “but you didn’t even check to see if Campbell had paid that insurance premium after your divorce.”
As if she needed reminding her ex-husband was a deadbeat and a liar.
“Mom, I know we don’t have the money. I’m sorry I asked.”
“It’s okay to be mad at me. I hate when you act all grown up.”
“It’s not okay.” He slid off the couch, easing his hand over the dog’s head. “Lucy, come.”
She scrambled up with a complaining whine. No one in the house felt easy tonight.
“Don’t go past the lawn into the woods this late,” Beth said, to remind him he was a child.
“Mom.” His tone suggested she get off his back.
“I’m serious.”
Slamming out of the house, he didn’t answer. Beth flipped on the brighter outdoor lights. Taking the stairs two at a time, she ran to the window in her room. Down on the lawn, Lucy jumped on Eli as he cocked his arm to throw her football.
She hadn’t ever managed to get the hang of fetch. Eli and Lucy went down in a tangle of gangly legs and black fur and a whippy tail. The ball trickled toward the line of solar lights along the driveway. Eli and Lucy both chased the ball, and Beth reached to close the blinds. Before she pulled the cord, another light caught her eye.
One from the cottage’s main bedroom. A golden glow flooded two wide windows in front of a king-size bed. Not that she could see the bed.
Except in her imagination.
Her mouth went dry. She had no time to be interested in a man.
So many business magazines had splashed Aidan Nikolas on their covers, the late-night talk show hosts had started cracking jokes about him moonlighting as a supermodel—which just proved none of them had seen him close up.
He was handsome enough, but he lacked the vanity. He was just a normal man—who’d looked too long at her and made her uneasy. A shadow passed in front of the windows.
Beth flung herself to the side and then laughed. She stepped straight into view and saw Eli waiting for Lucy who’d moved delicately to the edge of the taller grass.
With a wave at her son who merely set his shoulders, she yanked her blinds and then shucked off her running clothes. She dumped the sweats and tank into the laundry hamper and took a quick shower.
Afterward, she dried, ran a comb through her hair and grabbed her full hamper. In the hall, she walked to the landing and leaned over the stairs. “Are you back, Eli?”
“Yeah.” His voice came from behind her. He’d returned to his room—and no doubt to his video games. He was on his spring break. Maybe he deserved time off from chores.
Beth set down her hamper and went to his room. Sweat curled the dirty blond hair that she and Van also shared. The room smelled
