Mom,” Erin objected, digging her heels in. “Uncle Sparky is our friend, too.”
“He’s also working,” she reminded them.
“Yeah,” Lindy supported her mother.
Erin elbowed her sister, then shrugged Darby off when she attempted to hoist her into the truck cab. Instead, after much scrambling and inventive positioning, the six-year-old made it inside and claimed the portion of the seat nearer the passenger window. Darby looked down at Lindy, who raised her arms up as if on cue. She sighed and lifted her inside, then secured their safety belts. “Not a peep, you hear? Or else I take you straight to school with no breakfast.”
Lindy made a zipping motion with her hand while Erin grimaced at the unconvincing threat.
Darby closed the door and stood for a brief moment to gather her wits. Judging herself ready, she turned to face John. Then found she wasn’t ready at all. He looked so handsome with his hair tousled from where the twins had given him one of their full-head hugs, his grin tugging at something deep inside her.
She finally found her voice.
“Look, John—”
“Darby, I thought—”
They spoke at the same time. Darby smiled and glanced away. Had it really only been a week since she’d last seen him? It felt like several weeks. Months, even. The revelation in and of itself surprised her. When she’d lost Erick…well, she’d never expected to feel attracted to anyone again, ever. Much less such a short time after his death. But what she felt for John transcended mere attraction.
Of course, standing there on Main Street, facing John Sparks, sparked some memories she’d long since buried. Only, back then he’d been a rebellious teen, riding his dirt bike up and down the road, his tight jeans and plain white T-shirt drawing the attention of every female, no matter what her age. He’d been James Dean reincarnated. Well, with dark hair, anyway. And she, along with half the girls her age, had comically sighed after him.
Only there was nothing comical about right now.
“You go first,” John finally said.
“No, really, that’s okay. I think you should say what you have to say first.” Because what I have to say is going to prevent any further conversation.
“Okay.” He slid his hands into his pants pockets. “What I was going to say is that I thought we decided to, um, let things cool off a bit. You know, after…”
After… Darby was well aware of what he was referring to. But like the “then” quotient, three months ago, neither one of them had seen this particular “after” coming.
She nodded. “We did. Agree, I mean.”
“So do you think it’s a good idea, then, for you to be coming into town like this and asking to talk to me in front of a motormouth like George?”
Darby glanced into the station to see that George’s mouth was indeed running like a well-oiled motor as he spoke on the phone. She looked skyward. “Oh, no.”
John’s eyes narrowed, but rather than the suspicion such an action would imply, concern warmed the mercurial depths. His eyes seemed to be ever changing. One time green, another time blue. But it was the depth that made her feel she might fall right into them and disappear as she caught him gazing at her when he thought she wasn’t looking. Just as he was looking at her now. Or with the flame of passion that had gotten them both into so much trouble and completely threatened a good, no, great friendship.
“Darby? Are you all right?”
He appeared about to touch her. For a moment she wished he would. She’d spent countless nights longing for his touch. Wishing they could go back to that day in the barn and start over again.
In the beginning she’d convinced herself that it was Erick’s touch she missed. Erick’s grin. Erick’s amusing wisecracks. It was only when she gave herself over to her dreams that she realized that somewhere over the past eleven and a half months she had stopped mourning her late husband…and begun lusting after his best friend.
“Darby?’
She looked at him, then said, “John, brace yourself. I’m pregnant with your baby.”
Chapter Two
J ohn had faced many events in his life. As a firefighter, he’d willingly stood in harm’s way to put out dangerous fires. As sheriff for the past four years, he’d faced countless criminals and had even been shot in the thigh—although, he wasn’t certain the shooting counted, because it had been an accident. All the same, he had been shot. And he had found himself in numerous precarious situations that set his heart to hammering.
But all of those events combined didn’t hold a candle to the shock he felt at Darby’s quick, quiet words.
She gazed at him expectantly as the sun rose over the brick two-story buildings across the street and illuminated her in a warm glow, setting her auburn-kissed brown hair afire.
This couldn’t be happening…. It wasn’t possible…. There was no way….
Darby was Erick’s girl. She’d always been Erick’s girl. Then his wife. The mother of his twin girls. Now Erick’s widow.
There was no way he’d gotten her pregnant.
Darby held her hand up between them, as if to ward off his words, though he hadn’t spoken a single one aloud. He noticed that her slender fingers shook, even as he seemed to be looking at her from some faraway place.
“Don’t say anything. I don’t want you to. I just…well, I thought you should know.”
She began to turn toward her truck.
John squinted after her. That’s it? She drives into town, makes him forget every last reason he shouldn’t lust after her, tells him she’s pregnant, then leaves?
He watched his hand reach out and grasp her arm, halting her, though he had no knowledge of sending the command. “That’s not possible.”
Darby slowly turned her head to look at him, her large green eyes filled with disappointment. “Trust me, John. It is.”
His grip tightened. “I didn’t mean…well, you know, that it’s not possible. What I meant to say is…” What had he meant to say? That it wasn’t possible because he didn’t want it to be? That she was Erick’s girl, always had been? That now she was Erick’s widow and it wasn’t possible that he had gotten her pregnant? Or maybe he should tell her that fatherhood was down so low on his priority list it was almost nonexistent?
Given the expression on her face, he suspected it would have been better if he hadn’t said anything at all. And he certainly wasn’t about to voice the rest of the thought fragments trailing through his mind.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Darby blinked at him, as if his question was the last she expected to hear. The disappointment eased from her face, although he wasn’t certain he was happier with its replacement. She looked…well, as confused as he felt. “I’m fine. Or as
