Stephensons’ driveway.
There was a muffled laugh from David’s direction, and Rachel snapped her head toward him, heat blooming in her cheeks.
As David crossed the street, her pride warred with practicality. The charm of the early-morning walk had faded, and Rachel was looking forward to getting out of the cold and spending a few dog-free moments in a hot shower. He stepped up on the curb, extending a hand so carefully that she might have laughed if she weren’t so miserable. Something about David’s manner mirrored the way she was advancing on the skittish dog.
Up close, Rachel couldn’t help noticing the slight crinkle of laugh lines at the corners of his eyes. He had a great face. Masculine and friendly and reassuring and sexy all at the same time. Sometimes she just-
“Here, let me at least hold the other two while you round up the little one.”
She nodded, untangling the leash from her hand and passing it to him. David’s fingers closed over hers.
Her jaw dropped.
“You all right?” David narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing her.
Maybe it was a Pavlovian response. After all, he was the only man she’d been with in years, and her body hadn’t yet adjusted to the idea of never touching him again. Never kissing him, never waking in his arms, never-
Hildie barked, mercifully interrupting the mental tangent. Circling the dog, Rachel spoke in a nonstop, cajoling murmur, forcing herself to stand patiently as Hildie got closer. Inch by irritating inch. Rachel waited until she knew with absolute certainty that victory was in her reach before she pounced, catching the wiggling puppy in her hands. Hildie’s brown eyes were wide as she licked Rachel’s cheek.
“Don’t bother with the cute,” Rachel warned. “You are in big trouble, young lady.”
David met her halfway, giving her the other leashes along with a curious once-over. “So, you’re settled in okay at Winnie’s?”
Rachel nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Really?”
No, not really. But she had to learn how to stand on her own two feet again. She moved her shoulders in a noncommittal shrug.
He bent at the waist, doing a few stretches in preparation for resuming his run. “Well, maybe we’ll meet like this again.”
She laughed ruefully. “I hope not! Somehow I don’t think morning walks are going to become a habit.”
“Guess not.” His smiled had faded. “See you at my parents’ on Friday?”
The whole family was gathering to trim the Christmas tree. She could make an excuse to get out of it, except she’d skipped it last year. As she recalled, that had been the day she’d learned she wasn’t pregnant-again-and the thought of pretending to be in a festive, holiday mood…Not that this would be her most festive year, but it would be her last Christmas as a Waide. Was it selfish to want these final precious memories, to store them away in a mental scrapbook?
Maybe one day she could reexamine those memories and remember just the warmth and good times, without the paralyzing grief.
“I’ll be there,” she said. They’d also see each other on Saturday, but there’d be a bigger crowd at the party for Lilah and Tanner so maybe it wouldn’t be too awkward.
David nodded. “See you this weekend, then.”
As he started off again, she added, “Thanks for your help. I’m grateful our paths crossed.”
He smiled over his shoulder, but didn’t answer. She stared after his back, wondering how he felt.
Down the road, would he be glad that their paths had crossed five years ago, that he’d overcome her laughing protestations that she was only in town for a short while and had no plans to get involved with someone here? Or would he end up wishing he’d simply stayed on his side of the street and let the woman from South Carolina pass by without disrupting his life?
DAVID GRIMACED as he reached for the canister of coffee high in the supply cabinet. His sore muscles protested. Maybe he didn’t need caffeine that badly after all. Maybe what he needed was to stop pushing himself as if he were an indestructible kid half his age. After his encounter with Rachel, he’d sprinted a double circuit through the subdivision, trying to outrun the effect of seeing her.
She’d looked disarming and maddeningly adorable, all bundled up. Her eyes had been bright, almost silvery, and spots of color had livened a face that had been far too pale for far too long. This morning she’d reminded him of the woman he’d married, not the much quieter, pinched version she’d become. Seeing the improvement one night had made, he was forced to conclude that she’d been right-she
“David?” His mother’s voice, lilting in question, startled him. He’d thought he was alone in the employees-only hallway behind the store.
“Mom.” His arms dropped quickly to his sides, as if she’d caught him reaching for forbidden cookies. “I didn’t know you were in this morning.”
“Brought over some more ornaments for Ari to display. You do a great job running the store, just like your father always has, but neither of you excel when it comes to decorating for the customers.”
Decorating. He thought about his house, which was completely devoid of holiday cheer. Their first year of marriage, Rachel had barely waited for Thanksgiving before she started asking if it was too soon to put up Christmas lights. She’d seemed so happy then, as he’d promised her she’d be if she moved here to Mistletoe, enthusiastic to build their life together.
Susan brought him back to the present. “Why were you growling in the hallway?”
“I, uh, can’t reach the coffee.”
She skewered him with a raised eyebrow, then turned to open the janitorial closet behind her, revealing a small step stool that he’d known perfectly well was there. “God knows I love your brother and how spirited he is, but he was the one more likely to stubbornly pursue the impossible with no real plan on how to achieve it. You were the solution-finder.”
Really? Because David was fresh out of solutions. Feeling foolish, he picked up the stool and retrieved the coffee. “Lack of caffeine makes me grouchy. And stupid.”
Susan Waide’s gaze was steady, all-knowing in that way mothers have. “Want to tell me what’s really wrong?”
“Thanks, Mom, but it’s nothing that can be fixed with a step stool.”
“You and Rachel?”
His pulse pounded. How much of the truth had she guessed? “Is it that obvious that we’ve…hit a rough patch?”
“Oh, darling.” She ruffled his hair, even though she practically had to stand on tiptoe to do it. “I can’t imagine how difficult it was for her to lose that baby, but she’s been withdrawn for months. And you’ve been tense, short- fused. Not at all the boy I know.”
He missed the man he’d been, the one who had never questioned his wife’s love and their ability to work through any problem.
“Every couple has difficulties,” Susan continued. “Lord knows your father and I have. It’s healthy even. Once you work through to the other side, you’ll be stronger for it.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it. His biggest fear was that for him and Rachel, there was no other side.