me out of here?”
“He passed by my house and we spoke. He said the car might take a while, and I suggested going home could be a good idea. Your mom would be glad to see you.”
“When did you become so comfortable, trying to manipulate me?”
“Maybe I’m tired of hurting you.”
Through the snowy afternoon’s green-gray light, he saw faces watching them.
Sophie turned to see what had caught his attention. The air wafted a dizzying scent around them—the fragrance of her shampoo. He had to be a desperate man, because that scent took him back to moments of closeness, his kiss in her hair, her whisper in his ear, feeling as if he belonged.
“People are watching us.”
Anger tightened her mouth, and he couldn’t help staring.
“Sophie,” he said, his throat aching, “I’m thinking of you. And your baby.”
“I don’t care.” She lifted her hands and did half a spin, as if inviting everyone in sight to join them. “I’ll be gone from here. You’ll be the one answering questions.”
“Why didn’t you tell my sister?”
Sophie’s lips softened again. Her mittened hand lifted as if she was going to touch him, but at the last moment, she drew it back. Then she turned to her work on the fence. Loop the holly, hit it with a staple. “I’m angry with you. If it were just me, I’d wallow in rage that you dumped me. I certainly wouldn’t have humiliated myself by coming here.”
“Why doesn’t the baby make you feel that even more strongly?”
“I told you. I don’t even know my father’s name. My mother would never tell me. We don’t talk about it anymore because we want to get along, and she’s been a supportive, wonderful mom.”
“And you think my name could change things for your child?”
“Our child.”
A compulsion to look down at her slightly rounded belly was difficult to resist. “Tell me.”
“You’ll always have a way to find her. When she’s old enough, she can look for you, and if you want to tell her to her face that she doesn’t matter, that’s your choice. She’ll have me to lean on, and I won’t have controlled her options, or made the decision for her.”
Jack saw that moment in his mind. A beautiful tall girl with his dark hair and Sophie’s blue eyes confronting him because he’d stayed out of her life.
“Jack, are you all right?”
He came out of the scene where he let down the one child who had a right to his loyalty. “I would’ve been if you’d stayed away. Why do you need her to be mine? I told you I’d be responsible for her.”
Sophie looked around them. No one was close. Hammering went on at the stage and power stapling rang out as if everyone on the green was doing target practice.
“Our baby girl deserves all the love both of us can give her.”
“You don’t understand.” He wanted to shout, to rip down the holly ropes, to persuade Sophie to give up this ridiculous fight and get out of his town.
“And you refuse to explain. But I have to be the best mom I can be, so I’m doing what I believe is right for my daughter. I’ve seen you with patients, with friends’ children. You’re gentle and kind. You talk to them as if they matter. You can give that to kids who walk out of your life the next second, but you can’t give yourself to your own daughter?”
“Now you understand. But you still haven’t explained why you didn’t tell my sister.”
“I don’t know what goes on when you’re like this.” Sophie gestured toward the perspiration that was cold at his temple. “But I do know my child will have family here, and I don’t want your sister to think badly of you.”
“I didn’t tell my family about you because I never planned to come back here.”
“What?” The word left her mouth in a whisper. She turned back to the fence and resumed working in silence. Jack followed. He could have walked away, but realized what he was doing to her.
He didn’t have enough courage to risk loving the baby they had made together. How could he do that when he was already fighting every day to be sane, to look normal because of another child?
“Why did you come back here after you left me?” She tugged more holly out of his tight grip. “I was so sad after you walked out, I would have screamed at the first jaunty caroler.”
“They don’t sing all year.” He couldn’t explain his need for familiar faces, for the love of his brother and sister, if he couldn’t have Sophie’s anymore.
“Sophie Palmer,” a man called out. Tessie’s cousin, Otto Taver, must have heard enough about Sophie to recognize her, a stranger helping out like a Christmas Townie.
Uncharacteristically shy, she nodded, stepping closer to Jack. Did she even realize she’d eased his way for support? He didn’t move. For this moment, he wouldn’t abandon her, even though Otto meant no harm.
“Just wanted to thank you.” The other man yanked off his thick gloves and shook her hand, hard. “Tessie’s my cousin. I hear she might have ended up in big trouble if not for you.”
“Thank you, but she only needed a tourniquet. Jack did the hard part.”
“That’s not true,” Jack said, unable to stop himself from putting the story straight. “That tourniquet saved Tessie’s life.”
“I’m glad you were there to tie it.” Otto shook her hand again and nodded at Jack. “Doc, good to see you.” He strode off, heading toward the stage with his tool bag.
Sophie pushed her hands into her coat pockets. “You were the one who saved her life,” she said.
“She wouldn’t have had a life to save if you hadn’t stopped her bleeding.”
“How do you manage their expectations?” she asked, looking around. “Don’t you know you could fail them, too?”
“I’m trying not to mess up.”
She was silent for a moment and then shivered. He took the stapler and balanced it on the fence. “Are you cold?”
“A little.”
“You shouldn’t let your core cool. Why don’t you head back to the B and B?”
“I’m fine if I keep moving.”
“Georgette told you to rest, didn’t she?”
“I haven’t been overdoing it.” Sophie’s low, intense tone and the pulse beating just above the collar of her coat dared him to express concern about the unborn infant he was so intent on abandoning.
“I’m
