Читать книгу The Baby Promise - Carolyne Aarsen - Страница 11

Nick spun away from Beth’s closed door, his hands clenched into fists at his sides as he limped down the sidewalk. Why had he offered to escort her back to the house? Why did he put himself through this?

Because after looking at her across the dinner table, after seeing the grief on her face, he couldn’t let her leave on her own.

Though she hadn’t said anything, in those few moments walking alongside her, looking into her up raised face lit by the moon’s soft glow, something elemental had shifted inside him.

Something dangerous and wrong.

He was growing attracted to Jim’s widow.

He neared the main house, the heaviness of his guilt and grief weighing him down as much as his injury.

“That was quick.” Ellen paused in her task of loading the dishwasher and looked up as Nick stepped into the kitchen. “Is Beth okay?”

“Yeah. She seems to be. I think she just wanted to be alone.”

“She spends too much time alone,” Bob said, getting up from the table. “We’ve tried to have her over time and time again, but she gives us one of her reserved smiles and says she’ll think about it. Still can’t see how she and Jim ended up together.” Bob shook his head in puzzlement. “Jim loved to chat and talk and be around people. Beth never says much. Never did.”

“Beth is just a quiet girl,” Ellen said. “And yes, it would be nice if she opened up to us, but Jim said the same thing. She’s just more reserved, that’s all. Keeps to herself.”

“I’ll say,” Bob harrumphed, tugging his jeans up over his ample girth. “All she does now is sit at home alone, making those silly cards of hers.”

“Cards?” Nick shot Ellen a puzzled look.

“Beth likes to craft greeting cards.” Ellen walked to the refrigerator and pulled a card loose from a magnet holding it in place. “This was one she made for my birthday.”

Nick took the card, glancing down at the flowers and ribbon and cutout pieces of paper decorating the front. Happy Birthday was printed in shiny letters and pasted on a circle on the top of the card.

“Pretty,” was all he could say. He flipped it open and glanced over the printed poem on the inside with Beth’s signature written on the bottom, then handed the card back. “Looks like she put a lot of work into it.”

“Waste of time and paper is what I say,” Bob re plied.

“It probably keeps her mind off Jim. Though now the poor girl has other things to think about.” Ellen pressed her lips together as she traced the raised words on the card.

Nick thought of his own mother and for a moment felt an echo of an older grief. Life was so messed up. He had no parents and Bob and Ellen had no son and here they were together.

Bob cleared his throat. “Let’s go sit in the living room.” He nodded toward Nick. “We always have devotions there after supper. Do you have time to join us?”

Nick held his gaze as a trace of his former life drifted into his thoughts. His parents always had devotions after supper, as well. They would read the Bible and pray sincere prayers, believing God heard them.

“You don’t have to join us if you don’t want to. Beth never has,” Ellen said quietly, misunderstanding his silence as she tacked her card back on the refrigerator. “If you have plans for tonight, I understand.”

He faltered, wishing he could simply say no. But he was their guest and even though he and God hadn’t spent much time together lately, he didn’t have to deny their faith. Joining them was the least he could do for his buddy’s parents.

Besides, he didn’t have anything else to do. Go back to Cochrane to a hotel and from there…

He put the thought aside as Ellen tucked her arm through his.

“You know, I feel as if we know you beyond the few letters Jim would send,” she said as they walked to the living room. “When Jim told us your parents had died when you were just a teenager, we started praying for you, too.”

“Thank you,” he said. The thought that they remembered him in their prayers warmed some forgotten part of his soul. Sure, he didn’t believe in prayers anymore, and the fact that Nick was here, and not the son they had also prayed for, proved that.

But yet…

As Nick entered the living room his steps slowed. While the kitchen was cozy and comfortable, this room looked like part of a movie set. The log walls soared up a story and a half. Windows covered one entire wall. Though they were just dark rectangles and triangles now, Nick suspected, given the orientation of the house, that in the daytime one had an unsurpassed view of the mountains.

The room created a sense of space and, at the same time, peace and warmth. For the smallest moment he regretted not deciding to stay here longer.

As Nick looked around he noticed a group of pictures.

“Are those pictures of Jim?” he asked Ellen. “Can I have a look?”

“Of course. Our home is your home.” She made the offer as easily as offering him another piece of pie.

His eyes flicked over the pictures. Jim flashing a gaptoothed grin. Jim holding up a fish. Jim wearing a football uniform in high school. Jim in a tuxedo, his arms slung over the shoulders of two attractive women, one of them with dark brown hair, the other a redhead, but neither of them blonde Beth. Looked like high-school graduation.

Beside the gallery a shelf held a formal photograph of Jim in uniform looking more solemn than Nick ever remembered him to be. And beside that, a wedding picture of Beth and Jim.

He leaned forward to get a better look.

Nick recognized the grin on Jim’s face. The same one he often saw when Jim would beat Nick in a video game. The same one he saw on Jim’s face just before—

Nick pushed the memory aside, turning his attention to Beth in the photo.

The veil, the white dress and her long, curly hair all combined to give her an otherworldly air. Though she looked stunningly pretty in this picture, the Beth he had just met had a mature beauty that this picture gave only hints of.

He thought of the picture of her that Jim always carried around. She looked as serious in that picture as she did in this one—as serious as she had this evening. He wondered if he would ever see her smile.

“That’s the trouble with having only one child—one does tend to take a lot of pictures,” Ellen said, coming to stand beside him.

“I’m sure you’re glad you did now,” Nick said.

Ellen adjusted Jim and Beth’s wedding picture. “I just wish we had a few more of Beth, but Jim isn’t…wasn’t one to take many photographs.” She sighed, then brightened. “But now we have a grandchild coming, so I have another reason to take pictures.”

“You must be thrilled about that,” Nick said.

“I’ve been knitting and sewing all winter,” Ellen said with a note of pride. “Beth doesn’t know it, though. I want the gifts to be a surprise.”

Beth was lucky to have so much help.

So she doesn’t really need yours.

The insidious voice twisted through his mind and he sighed. He had promised.

And what can you possibly do for her? What can you offer her that this family can’t? She doesn’t even want you around.

Nick gave his head a light shake. He knew that promising Jim he would look out for Beth seemed a vague idea at best. He had come to Alberta with no clear plan other than to see her and to make sure she was okay.

But the trouble was now that he’d spent an evening with her, other emotions worked themselves through his soul.

Attraction and appeal and a desire to protect that had little to do with Jim’s promise and more to do with the fact that he’d been intrigued by Beth from the first moment he saw her picture.

Don’t kid yourself. You can’t take care of anybody. She’s not for you.

Nick clenched his hands as his thoughts hammered at his composure.

He turned away from the pictures.

Ellen curled up in a chair on one side of the woodstove while Bob threw another log on the crackling fire. With a heavy sigh, Bob settled into a worn leather recliner opposite Ellen, pulled a book off an end table beside his chair and leaned back.

Nick took this as a hint that they were ready. So he dropped onto the leather couch facing them, leaning forward, his hands clasped together. He felt the way he did whenever he had to talk to his commanding officer. Unsure of the reception, but unwilling to let his uncertainty show.

Bob opened the book, the crackling of the pages the only sound in the easy quiet filling the room.

“I thought I would read Psalm 46,” Bob said, pulling out a pair of reading glasses from his pocket and perching them on his nose. “Jim had to memorize this Psalm for one of his Sunday school classes.” He took a wavering breath. “I thought it was appropriate, considering the circumstances.” He cleared his throat and began. “‘God is our refuge and strength. An ever-present help in times of trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea…’”

As he read, his voice rose and fell. The words and images they brought to mind seemed to ease the tension that had gripped Nick since he stepped out of the cab.

He hadn’t wanted to come here and when Beth had told him that she absolved him of his responsibility to Jim, he felt a sense of relief.

Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wasn’t finished here.

“‘…He makes wars cease to the ends of the earth; He breaks the bow and shatters the spear, He burns the shields with fire. Be still and know that I am God…’”

Nick felt the words settle into his soul and, in spite of the cynicism and bitterness that had been his constant companion, here with Bob and Ellen in their home, he felt God’s presence and comfort.

“‘…the God of Jacob is our fortress.’” Bob paused at the end, the words a gentle echo in the silence that wrapped around them.

Bob kept his gaze on the Bible, his hand resting on the page, as if drawing strength from it. “Ellen and I prayed every day for Jim and for his safety.” He sighed and shook his head. “We hoped Jim would come home and eventually come to stay here in the mountains of Alberta, and not die in the mountains across the ocean.” He paused, gathering himself. “But God’s ways are the best ways and we’re not sure what He has in store for us.” Bob gave Nick a direct look. “But we are thankful that you could be here, Nick. That you could come to stay with us.” Bob sighed, waited another moment then quietly spoke. “Let’s pray.”

He and Ellen lowered their heads and folded their hands and Nick followed suit.

“Dear Lord, we thank You that we know You are our refuge and strength in this world even though all we see sometimes is sorrow and pain. We thank You that You care for us. Help us as we struggle with Jim’s death. Give us strength and help us to understand…” As Bob’s voice faltered, a shard of iron entered Nick’s soul.

God hadn’t heard their prayers for their son’s safety, had He? And what about my parents? Where was He when they died?

Yet as Bob prayed Nick found he couldn’t hold on to his anger, and in the face of this man’s sincere faith and trust in God, his soul softened.

“…but we know that all things work together for good, and we trust that’s going to happen now. Thank You for Your word to us that You will never leave us or forsake us. Help us to cling to that word. Amen.”

Nick kept his head lowered a moment, Bob’s words like a touch of hope in Nick’s lonely life.

Jim had said his parents were churchgoers. Nick had assumed their attendance was a community thing the way Jim had spoken of it. The kind of thing rural people did as a way of connecting with each other. Yet when Bob prayed, it was as if he truly believed God listened to what he said. As if Bob and God had a special relationship.

“Jim talked about you a lot, Nick,” Ellen said. “And we feel like we know you the way he did. Jim told us that you, like him, were an only child. He said that your parents died when you were eighteen and that you don’t have much extended family.” Ellen paused, glanced at Bob, then looked back at Nick. “I’m guessing you don’t have many obligations yet because of your medical discharge. And I’m sure that you can find work, but I’m also sure you could use the rest. The quiet. So…what I’d like to let you know…what we’d like to let you know…is we would love to have you stay for a while. As long as you like or need to. With us.”

Nick sat back, surprised. Though Jim had told him his parents were hospitable and generous, he hadn’t expected this.

“I…I don’t know what to say,” was all he could stammer out. He wasn’t sure he wanted to make that kind of commitment. When he had received his discharge, he had initially felt as if the ground had been cut out from under him. All he had known since he was eighteen was the army.

Then, once he got used to the idea, a sense of freedom overtook him. He had possibilities and a chance to start over. A chance to put what happened in Afghanistan behind him.

Staying with Bob and Ellen would be a constant reminder of the accident.

And seeing Beth regularly?

Bob leaned forward, his eyes holding Nick’s. “We’re lonely, too. And losing Jim…” His voice faltered again.

Nick hesitated, digging through his confusion for the right words. “I’m really thankful for the offer…but I don’t think I can—”

Ellen held up her hand, a smile tinged with sorrow lifting her mouth. “We don’t want you to feel any obligation and we certainly don’t want to put any pressure on you, so please don’t feel like you have to say yes. We thought it would be good for all of us to spend time together.”

His mind skipped back to the ranch he grew up on. The security of his home life and the love of his parents.

Then he thought of facing Beth every day for the next few days and he shook his head. “I appreciate your very generous offer, but I’m sorry.”

Ellen’s smile faltered but she nodded. “Of course. You have things to do. I understand. And I’m sure Beth will, too.”

Nick thought back to his brief conversation with Beth. How she had “absolved” him of his obligation. He had a feeling that, in her opinion, there was nothing to understand or care about.

“Would you be willing to at least stay the night?” Bob asked, leaning forward, hope in his voice.

Nick bit his lip, then a sigh eased out of him. “Sure. I’ll stay the night,” he said.

How hard could it be to spare these people one evening of his time?

“Are you sure you only need two weeks here?” Beth’s brother asked as Beth shifted the phone to her other ear, plumping a pillow and adjusting a plant while she listened.

Though Art had told her clearly that she had to call at 7:30 p.m. on the dot, when she’d dutifully made the call he wasn’t home. Nor was he home at eight or nine.

So she’d called him first thing this morning and as a result, had woken him up. Not the wisest move, but Beth forced herself to put up with Art’s early-morning surliness because he had something she wanted.

A room and a bed in a town house in Vancouver.

“I’m not due for another five weeks,” Beth said, forcing herself to speak quietly as she walked around her house, tidying an already achingly neat living room. “I only need two to three weeks to find my own place so I can settle in before the baby is born.”

“You sure you don’t want to move in with Curt and Denise?”

“Be realistic, Art. You saw how cramped things were when we got together there for Christmas.”

“Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

“And with Mom living there, there’s really no room.”

Their brother, Curt, and his wife, Denise, lived in a tiny mobile home in a town so small that if a person glanced sideways, they’d miss it. There were no opportunities for Beth there and, as she had told Art, no room in the trailer.

“Okay. You can come. As long as it’s only a couple of weeks and it’s just you, and no kid. I’ve got another guy coming after you and I can’t have you around if you have a kid.”

Beth clutched the phone, pressing back the words threatening to spill out. That the “kid” she carried was his niece or nephew seemed lost on Art. But then, Art had never been the most tactful nor the most considerate of her brothers.

Then a tightening seized her abdomen, as if her baby also protested the situation. She laid a hand over her stomach, as if to settle the child.

“Don’t worry, Art. I won’t cramp your lifestyle.” The angry words spilled out before she could stop them.

“Hey, little sis, I didn’t mean it that way,” Art said, instantly remorseful. “It’s just, well, I’m kind of under the gun at work and things are piling up personally. Well, you know how things are with me and Abby…”

Beth made some appropriate noises even though she had a hard time feeling sorry for a man who had been putting off his wedding date for the past five years.

“So, well, that’s the deal. Uh, are you doing okay?” Art asked, giving his version of sympathy. “You know, with Jim gone and all?”

“I’m doing okay,” she said, her anger sifting away in the light of his confused concern.

“You still working?”

“Yeah. Part-time at the craft store and I—”

“Becker. Get out of there.” Art’s sudden yell made her jump. “Hey, Beth. Sorry. Gotta run. Becker’s digging in his dog food again.”

A click in her ear told Beth that the conversation and Art’s sympathy had come to an abrupt halt.

Though she should know better, Beth felt the prick of tears. Neither Art nor Curt were the storybook brothers her friends in school had thought they were. Thirteen years separated her and Art, the youngest of her two brothers. By the time Beth had come into the family, the boys were in their teens, interested in cars, women and anything but a little sister who cried a lot and, as she grew older, loved to dress up and play with dolls. Anything she had to say to them was greeted with grunts, blank stares and commands to get out of their rooms.

And shortly after she turned six, they both moved out, leaving her with a distant father and a mother struggling to keep her marriage together. A failing proposition, as it turned out.

Beth dropped the phone on the table and glanced at the clock. She had to get going if she wanted to meet Shellie at the store this time. She started for the kitchen to prepare her bag lunch just as she heard a scraping sound outside the house.

What was going on?

She opened the door a crack.

A flurry of snow flew through the air, then another, and through it, Beth made out a man, bent over, wielding a snow shovel.

Who…?

Then he straightened and Beth’s heart dropped into her boots.

What was Nick Colter still doing here? And why was he shoveling her sidewalk?

“Excuse me. Can I help you?” The question was rhetorical, seeing as how it was he who was supposedly helping her.

Nick brushed some snow off his dark hair and gave her a quick look, his cheeks ruddy with the cold. “I don’t think so. Not in your condition.”

“So…what are you doing here?”

Nick rested his hands on the top of the shovel and shrugged as he glanced at the piles of snow he had created on either side of her walk. “I’m guessing shoveling snow, but if you want to call it something else…”

“I thought you were leaving last night.” The remark came out more bluntly than she had intended, but his unexpected presence unnerved her.

“Me, too.” Nick bent over and pushed another pile of snow up, then tossed it easily aside. “Bob and Ellen asked me to stay for a night. They wanted to hear a bit more about Jim, I guess.” Nick grunted 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.