out the harvest. There’s plenty of time for the rest.”
“I guess you’re right,” Marianne agreed, dishing up some potato salad before passing it to Lisa. “The kids and I have a lot to do, getting ready for school.”
As the conversation began spinning around the new topic, Matt mouthed Caty a thank-you. She gave him an encouraging smile, and the invisible band crushing his chest loosened just enough for him to breathe again.
“I’ll go pull your van in, Mare.” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed her keys from their hook and strode out the side door.
Parking the van took all of a minute, but he wasn’t near ready to go back inside. It had been a long day of fighting against his emotions and biting his tongue to keep from upsetting his family. Deciding he needed some time to himself, he wandered through the backyard and over to the pond. He walked out to the end of the dock and sat down, letting out a long, frustrated sigh.
He was now one-fourth owner of a farm he didn’t want, had never wanted. At least the house was Marianne’s. He couldn’t stand living here for very long, but he knew he could never bring himself to sell the Sawyer homestead. It would have broken his father’s heart, and even though he was gone, Matt couldn’t bear the thought of letting him down. Again.
He heard a door slam, followed by the light footsteps of someone a lot smaller than John. His sisters would know better than to follow him out here, so it must have been Caty. As he scooped up a handful of gravel, he had to admit her sarcastic cheerleader comment had impressed him. In a classy, no-nonsense way, she’d put him firmly in his place.
She wasn’t like the other women he knew, he mused as he tossed a pebble into the water. Then again, none of them had a serious job like hers. None of them would have been at a funeral on a beautiful summer day when they could have been playing hooky from work at a lake somewhere. Lobbing in another stone, he watched the ripples work their way through the water.
“Hey, there.” Caty offered him something wrapped in a napkin. “I thought you might be hungry.”
Another stone plunked into the water. “Not really, but thanks.”
Anybody else would get the hint that he wanted to be left alone. But not this one. She actually came closer.
“It’s kind of warm inside. Do you mind if I hang out here for a few minutes?”
Matt shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
“Thanks.”
She sat a couple of feet away, not too close but close enough that he couldn’t forget she was there. He also couldn’t miss the subtle scent of roses that had come with her. Light and sweet, it suited her perfectly.
Man, he was tired. Turning into a regular poet. He waited for her to say something so he could tell her he really wasn’t up for company. To his surprise, she remained totally silent. Leaning back on her hands, she looked up at the sky while she wiggled her toes in the water.
For a long time they sat there side by side, not even looking at each other. Matt continued tossing pebbles, and Caty seemed content admiring the surrounding fields. Frogs croaked around them, intent on being louder than the crickets, and a couple of ducks glided past, eyeing him warily. They reminded him that this was their place, and he was only visiting.
That didn’t do much for his mood, and he whipped the last few pieces of gravel into the water. None landed near the ducks, but they didn’t appreciate the noise and quickly changed course.
With his hands empty, Matt eyed the muffin still sitting on the dock. Deciding that he didn’t care if she thought he was an idiot, he picked it up and broke off a piece. He popped it in his mouth and sighed in appreciation. “Blueberry’s my favorite.”
“I’m glad.”
She still wasn’t looking at him. He knew because he kept glancing over, and he didn’t catch her eyes even once. This was a new one for him, since women usually connected with him pretty fast.
“Want some?” he asked, holding out the muffin.
“Sure. Thanks.”
As he handed her half, her eyes finally met his, and he was struck by the directness of her gaze. He dwarfed her and hadn’t exactly been friendly, but she didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by him. The cute suit had some guts. Who’d have figured on that?
They munched in silence for a few minutes, and Matt tore the napkin in half to share with her.
“Thanks.” After wiping her mouth and hands, she stood up. “I’ll leave you be now.”
Her bare feet rustled through the grass as she walked away from the pond. She was a few yards away when he heard himself call out her name.
She turned, and a shaft of late sunlight hit her like a spotlight. If he were superstitious, he’d think someone was trying to tell him something. He shook off the weird feeling and went on. “You mind hanging out awhile longer?”
She took a step toward him and stopped. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah.”
She hadn’t pushed him to talk, hadn’t tried to be entertaining or lift his spirits. She’d just let him sit there and stare at the water. It made him wonder if somehow she understood how he felt.
When she sat back down, he realized it was getting cool and her pretty blouse wasn’t much for warmth. He pulled off his jacket and draped it across her shoulders.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” Sighing, he stared at the house he’d avoided like the plague for so many years. “I wish I could’ve said goodbye.”
“You’re not just talking about Ethan, are you?”
Her perceptiveness was unnerving, to say the least. Avoiding her eyes, he stayed fixed on the house and shook his head. Then, for some insane reason, instead of leaving it there he started to explain.
“When I was ten, our mom got real sick. I didn’t know it then, but she had leukemia. She went to the hospital and didn’t come home. We had supper with her one night and the next morning she was gone. I never got to say goodbye.”
Caty put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. He hated it when women tried to baby him, but for some reason her gentle touch didn’t bother him.
“That’s so sad. You must have missed her so much.”
“Marianne was seven, but John and Lisa were too young to understand. Lisa doesn’t even remember her.” His voice broke, and he cleared his throat. Even after all these years, talking about it was almost impossible.
Folding his hands in an effort to control his emotions, he stared down at them. “After she died, everything changed.”
He expected Caty to jump in and finish his thought, maybe fill in the blanks for him, but she didn’t. To his surprise, her patient silence actually made him want to keep talking. Hands clamped into helpless fists, he lifted his head and met those bright green eyes.
“The
