up in knots so tight they were choking her, but it bothered the hell out of him. She shouldn’t have to fight this hard all the time.
“I noticed you before Bonnie said a word,” he said, telling her something he would normally have kept to himself. “In fact, I’d already tried to get you to go out with me before she told me there was someone I ‘just had to meet.’”
“Oh.”
“Cweam?” Ryan said around the finger in his mouth.
Greg’s eyes met Beth’s and that strange thing happened between them again. As though something inside her were conversing with something inside him….
“Not tonight, Ry,” she finally said, breaking eye contact with Greg.
But she hadn’t looked away fast enough. He’d seen the pain in her eyes as she’d turned him down. It was the most encouraging rejection he’d had yet.
“Another time, then,” he murmured.
He could’ve sworn, as he said goodbye and told her he’d be in touch, that she seemed relieved.
Yep, there was no doubt about it.
Beth Allen wanted him.
“BONNIE, CAN WE TALK?” Monday was not her usual day to volunteer at the day care, but Beth had come, anyway. She’d been thinking about this all weekend.
“Sure,” the woman said, giving Beth one of her signature cheery smiles. Other than the dark curls that sprang from all angles on her head, thirty-four-year-old Bonnie looked nothing like her older brother. Short where he was tall, plump where he was solidly fit, she could be, nevertheless, as intimidating as he when she got an idea.
Beth knew this about her and she’d only known the woman a few months. Until now, she’d liked that trait, identified with it somehow.
With Ryan in clear view, Beth followed Bonnie into her windowed office and, canvas bag still over her shoulder, sat when Bonnie closed the door.
“What’s up?”
“I want you to quit bugging Greg to ask me out.”
“Why? Greg’s great! You two would have so much fun together.”
In another life, Beth was certain she’d agree. It was precisely because she wished so badly that this was another life that she had to resist. She’d thought about it all weekend and knew she had no choice.
Yet, how she longed to be able to confide in this woman, to talk through her thoughts and fears, benefit from Bonnie’s perspective.
Almost as badly as she longed to go out with Bonnie’s brother.
“I just don’t want to be a charity case,” she said, hating how lame she sounded. “I don’t want anyone asking me out because he feels sorry for me or he’s forced into it or—”
Bonnie cut her off. “You don’t know Greg very well if you think I could force him to do anything he didn’t feel was right. Nor would he ever date a woman simply because I wanted him to. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be thirty-six years old and still single.”
“He told me you’ve been trying to get us together for months.”
“And if he’s asked you out, it has absolutely nothing to do with me.”
Bonnie’s green eyes were so clear, so sure. She was the closest thing Beth had to a friend in this town. Although she knew it would probably shock the other woman, Beth’s relationship with Bonnie meant the world to her.
“Well, just stop, okay?” she said, standing. Somehow she’d convinced herself that if Bonnie quit pushing, so would Greg.
Or was it because she secretly hoped he wouldn’t that she’d been able to take this stand?
“Sure,” Bonnie said. “But it’s not going to change anything. If Greg asked women out because I pushed them at him, he wouldn’t have had eight months—at least—without a real date.”
Beth sat back down. “He hasn’t had a date in eight months?”
“I said at least eight months. That’s how long I know about. That’s how long he’s been back in Shelter Valley.”
“Back? I thought he grew up here.” She didn’t care. Wasn’t interested. Ryan was playing happily with Bo Roberts, a three-year-old with Down syndrome. Bo, a high-functioning child, was a favorite at Little Spirits and particularly a favorite of Ryan’s.
“He did. We both did. But Greg moved to Phoenix ten years ago.”
“To be a cop?”
Hands clasped together on the desk in front of her, Bonnie shook her head, eyes grim. It wasn’t something Beth had seen very often.
“He was already a cop,” Greg’s sister said. “Our father was severely injured in a carjacking and required more care than he could get in Shelter Valley. Greg moved with him to Phoenix and looked after him until he died.”
Beth’s heart fell. A dull ache started deep inside her. She didn’t want Bonnie—or Greg—to have suffered so.
“What about your mother?”
“She died when I was twelve. From a bee sting, of all things. No one knew she was deathly allergic.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Me, too.”
Beth needed to say more. Much more. And couldn’t find anything to say at all.
“So it was just you and Greg and your dad after that?”
Bonnie nodded, and the two women were silent for a moment, each lost in her own thoughts. Bonnie, Beth supposed, was reliving those years. Beth was searching desperately for anything in her life that might help her to help Bonnie. But, as usual, she found nothing there at all.
“Anyway,” Bonnie said suddenly, spreading her arms wide, “Greg moved back here to run for Sheriff last January and hasn’t had a single date since he was elected. And it hasn’t been for lack of trying on my part, either.”
“So I’m just one in a long line to you, eh?” Beth asked, trying to lighten the tension a bit, make sure Bonnie knew there were no hard feelings, and the two women chuckled as they returned to the playroom.
Bonnie went back to supervising and Beth to finding crayons and engaging little minds in age-appropriate activities. On the surface, nothing had changed. But Beth was looking at her friend with new eyes. She’d had no idea Bonnie had led anything other than a blessed life.
There was a lesson in this.
Bonnie had suffered, and still found a way to love life. The other woman’s cheerfulness, her happiness, could not be faked. It bubbled from deep inside her, and was too consistent not to be genuine.
Beth had a new personal goal. Peace was still what mattered most—behind Ryan’s health and
