as he cleared away another space on her sidewalk.
“You don’t need to clear my walk.” She glared at him, as if to underline her message, but he wasn’t looking at her.
“You might not think so,” he returned, intent on his work. “But I don’t think your baby would appreciate you slipping and falling.”
Beth was about to say something more, then changed her mind. She had to get ready for work. Maybe he’d be gone by the time she was done.
But when she stepped out the door the second time, briefcase in one hand, bag lunch in the other, he was cleaning snow off the sidewalk that ran along the front of the house.
He looked up as she closed the door. “The snow here is really packed,” he said. “Has it ever been shoveled?”
“I’ve never shoveled it because it just leads to the back door, which I never use.”
Nick stopped his work, his expression puzzled. “You’ve been shoveling your own sidewalk?”
“Yeah.” Why did he sound so surprised? Jim was gone so much she had learned very early how to fend for herself.
“I thought Bob would.”
“He’s offered, but I take care of myself,” she replied, locking the door behind her. She caught him frowning at her again. “Is something wrong?”
“No. Nothing’s wrong.” He scratched his head. “I just figured you’d be glad for your in-laws’ help. I know they’re very concerned about you.”
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
Nick nodded slowly, glancing at her stomach. “I’m sure you do.” Then he looked up at her and she saw a softening in his features that resurrected the shiver she felt last night when his hand brushed her neck. “I wish we could have met under other circumstances. I know Jim always talked about how he wanted to introduce you to me. Show me around the ranch.”
She gave him a quick smile, wishing he would stop talking about Jim and her as if they were some storybook couple. “I appreciate that you wanted to follow through on your promise to Jim and that’s admirable, but I have to move on.”
“I understand, but I also know how much it must hurt to have lost him. I know he loved you so much.” His voice held a wistful note.
“Jim was always a good storyteller,” she said, skirting the truth with a non sequitur.
“He sure was. When things were really hard and the fighting got close, I used to get him to tell me stories of the ranch and you. How you met, what you were like. He always obliged. And I know it sounds corny, but knowing you were here, waiting for him, made it a bit easier for me.” Nick released a short laugh, as if embarrassed of his revelation.
She wouldn’t see him anymore, Beth thought. What would it hurt if she gave him just a little bit of what he expected? He just delivered a message from his buddy. It wasn’t his fault Jim was not the buddy Nick presumed he was.
“Jim was a great guy,” she said. “He took care of me and…I loved him.” At one time, anyway, so it was partly true. “I know I’ll miss him a lot.” More than that she couldn’t give Nick. “Thanks again, I guess, for delivering your message.” She felt as if she should say a bit more. He had come all this way to deliver a message she didn’t want to hear, but he had come. That must have been difficult if, indeed, he and Jim were as close as Nick indicated. “I suppose you’ll be gone when I come back?”
“More than likely. Got a few things I need to do. Gotta get on with my life, such as it is.”
Beth fidgeted a bit more as a heavy silence rose up between them. A silence holding words that could not be given form. Words that would change too much between people whose only connection was the memory of a man whom they both saw so differently.
She looked into his eyes and saw curiosity behind the vague concern. But she also saw a man who kept a promise by coming here. “I guess this is goodbye,” she said, shifting her briefcase under her arm to hold out her hand.
“I hope things go well for you and your baby.” He shook her hand, his grip firm, decisive. “Will you let me know what you have when your baby is born?”
“I will.”
“I can give you my cell number,” he said, pulling out a piece of paper.
Beth paused a moment while he shifted his weight and unzipped his coat. He pulled a pen and a small notepad out of his shirt pocket, scribbled a number on the paper and ripped it out.
She glanced down at the number, then up at him. “Thanks. I’ll get Bob or Ellen to call you.”
He tipped her a crooked smile. Their eyes held a fraction of a moment longer and to Beth’s surprise she felt a remnant of a long-forgotten emotion.
Attraction? Appeal?
She shook the moment away then shoved the paper in her purse. “Thanks for cleaning my walk.”
“You’re welcome.” He held her gaze for an extra beat, as if he wanted to say something more.
She lifted her hand in a wave, then ambled off. But all the way to her car she felt his gaze on her. It unnerved her and as she got into her car, she felt a spasm in her abdomen.
She pressed her hand against her stomach, arching her back against a surprising jolt of pain. These Braxton Hicks contractions weren’t supposed to hurt.
“Easy now,” she murmured to her unborn child. “Just bide your time. Everything is going to be okay. He’ll be gone by this afternoon.”
And with him, hopefully, another reminder of Jim.
Chapter Three
Nick watched Beth’s car leave in a plume of exhaust, confusion and frustration vying for the upper spot in his mind.
When she said goodbye, a part of him rebelled. As he looked into her eyes he felt a stirring of a disloyal emotion. He didn’t want this to be the end.
But who did he think he was? Not some white knight riding in to save the damsel in distress. He was nothing but trouble and the farther he stayed away from Jim’s beloved wife, the better.
He turned back to his shoveling. This, at least, he could do for her.
When he was done, he straightened and a jolt of pain clutched his hip. He clenched his teeth, riding it out. Maybe cleaning her walk wasn’t the smartest thing to do.
As he took a long, slow breath, he looked around. His eyes followed the contours of the fields, softened by snow. A cluster of brown dots broke the white expanse beyond the cattle feeders. Some of the more adventurous cows had moved away from the corrals where they were fed and out into the field.
Nostalgia drifted over his mind at the scene. His parents’ ranch had been nestled along a lush river valley between two mountain ranges. The fields were long and narrow, rather than open and spread out, but it created the same feeling in his soul.
A
