by Jill Gregory
She’d barely had a chance to speak to Ivy when she’d run breathlessly into the bakery this afternoon. The girl had sent her a quick wave and a smile—looking sort of stressed, Sophie remembered—then immediately joined Shannon and Val at their table.
But Sophie had sent Karla over with a plate of freshfrom-the-oven chocolate chip cookies for all of them on the house, and had received a broad, happier smile from Ivy as the girls all squealed and grabbed for the cookies.
By four o’clock, the three of them had left to walk to the library together to do their homework.
Maybe she just has a ton of homework. Or friend issues, Sophie thought. Par for the course in middle school.
But she couldn’t resist saying casually as she set down her wineglass, “So overall it went pretty well? First days of anything can be tricky. And middle school’s a big deal.”
“Yeah. I’m cool with it though. Sorta.” Then Ivy paused. She glanced over her shoulder—making sure Rafe wasn’t on his way back? Then turned to peer at Sophie, those lovely indigo eyes serious and intent.
“School wasn’t awful. It wasn’t great either, but . . . the thing is, I think I can handle it. It’s just . . .” She studied Sophie a minute, weighing something in her eleven-year-old brain, then she took a breath.
“Can I ask you a question?”
Sophie braced herself, suddenly wondering wildly if this was a question about sex or drugs or something else big. Something Ivy needed to discuss with Rafe. What if she wanted to know how babies were made? But surely Rafe . . . or Lissie . . . would have told her all about that by now....
“I can’t ask my dad about this.” Ivy spoke quickly now. “And Aunt Lissie has enough on her mind with the baby coming so soon and all. So I . . . I’d just like your opinion,” she said carefully. She took a breath, then peered anxiously at Sophie.
“Is it wrong to keep a secret?”
Sophie absorbed the words with a tiny shock. They weren’t what she’d been expecting. Not at all.
“Well, that depends.” She hoped her concern didn’t show on her face. “If someone’s in trouble, you need to tell. If it could save a life, or keep someone from getting sick or hurt or putting themselves in danger, you need to tell a grown-up and get help. And that includes if you need to protect yourself—Ivy, do you? Are you in trouble, do you need help?”
Her heart was beating fast now as she searched the girl’s pretty, serious face, wishing she knew what this was about, but Ivy’s lids lowered so Sophie couldn’t see her eyes.
“Ivy? You can tell me,” she said quietly, even as a knot of worry locked around her heart.
Ivy looked up then. Shook her head. “It’s not that kind of a secret. It’s not dangerous. It’s just . . . someone’s feelings might get hurt.”
Relief rushed over Sophie. Feelings. Very middle school. Very normal. Still, she searched the girl’s face. It sounded as if this was a friendship kind of secret. Something along the lines of liking someone else’s boyfriend or knowing that somebody had talked behind someone’s back or whatever other kind of drama went on in middle school these days. Not life or death or drugs or anything ugly or dangerous.
Still . . .
“Who’s feelings? A friend’s?”
Ivy shook her head. “I can’t tell you.”
“Maybe you can tell your dad. Or Aunt Liss. I must have told Lissie a hundred secrets when we were in middle school and she kept all of them. She’s a great person to talk to. Sometimes it really helps to talk things out.”
“I know, but it’s not about me . . . I mean, not exactly.”
Sophie thought she saw a flash of misery for an instant, then it was gone.
The next thing she knew, Ivy had a smile on her face. Did it look a little forced? Sophie couldn’t be sure.
“It’s not that big of a deal, Sophie. Honest. Everything’s fine.”
She slurped more Coke through the straw, then her gaze shifted toward the double doors.
“Dad’s coming. I just remembered—I need to ask him—”
She turned to her father as he slid into the booth beside her. “There’s a field trip next week. You have to remind me to give you the permission slip when we get home.”
“Here’s a better idea. Hand it over now, Ives, then we won’t have to worry about it later.” Rafe’s gaze rested on Sophie as his daughter began rummaging inside her backpack. His smile was warm enough to almost make her forget about middle school secrets and field trips and the fact that she needed to be rolling out of bed again in eleven hours.
“Sorry that took so long.”
His words were casual, but his eyes held an intimacy that for that one moment made her feel as if they were the only two people in the restaurant, maybe in all of Lonesome Way.
I missed you, his eyes said. I want to kiss you. And do about a dozen other things to you as soon as we can be alone together again.
“No problem,” she murmured as Ivy surfaced with the permission slip. “It gave Ivy and me a chance to catch up.”
Then their waitress skidded to a halt and began unloading a tray piled with food, and they were once again three people sharing dinner and talking about school and classes and homework. The moment was lost. But not before giving Sophie more of those tingles.
Chapter Twenty-two
Sunday morning several weeks later dawned wet and rainy. But Sophie didn’t care.
Life was good.
The bakery was closed all day on Sunday. No one had vandalized her car since the day she’d ridden to the creek with Rafe. And she had a man in her bed.
A rugged, giving, sexy man.
“Stay awhile,” Rafe urged, yanking her back onto the pillows when she started to slide her feet to the floor.
“I thought you’d fallen back asleep.”
“Who can sleep when there’s a beautiful woman driving you absolutely crazy?”
Laughing, she snuggled against him, closing her eyes as he rolled atop her and nuzzled her neck. Tidbit and Starbucks, who’d both already been let out once, snored from opposite corners of her bedroom. Chill September rain splashed against her window.
But she felt safe and warm and wanted as she and Rafe kissed and caressed and took their time making love again beneath her old faded comforter.
Afterward they pulled on T-shirts and jeans and padded downstairs barefoot, trying not to trip over the dogs both lunging past them at the same time. She melted butter in a skillet and scrambled eggs, while Rafe poured juice and brewed coffee, and the dogs crunched over separate bowls of kibble.
Glancing at the stove clock, she felt a stab of disappointment. It was ten o’clock and he’d have to leave soon to pick Ivy up from her sleepover at Val’s house. Sophie’s mother and Doug Hartigan would be home later this afternoon from the crafts fair in Helena. They’d been gone the past three days.
That meant tonight she’d be sleeping upstairs alone.
“Something wrong?” He set down his coffee cup, watching her face. “For a minute there, you looked sad.”
“I’m not. I’m happy. Happier than I’ve been for a long time.”
“Know the feeling.” He smiled. He was the picture of relaxed masculinity in those snug jeans and a black T-shirt. His jaw was dark with stubble and his eyes glinted a far deeper blue than the cup in his big hand. He was the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on.
But that wasn’t what made her heart suddenly tremble.
Sophie lifted her cup, took a sip, trying to keep her hand from shaking. She hoped the cup would hide the emotions written in her face. The same emotions that made her heart feel like it was going to burst from her chest.
She was happy. Because of Rafe.
The realization terrified her. How had he come to mean so much to her in such a short time? How had she let herself get so involved with him when she’d known how important it was to be careful? Careful with her heart, which had already been thoroughly stomped on and couldn’t survive another frontal assault.
The bakery had taken off in a big way, and she’d focused her thoughts on that, not on what was evolving between her and Rafe.
She had regular customers now, those who made stopping at A Bun in the Oven part of their daily routine—like Martha, who bought donuts or cinnamon buns or Danishes first thing every morning for her manicurist and Ina Miller, who did the shampooing, and for all the customers who wanted a sweet treat with their coffee in between haircuts and manicures and gossip.
Mia and nearly a dozen other teachers from both middle school and high school came nearly every day after classes let out, and so did a lot of the kids. Denny McDonald popped in regularly, though more, Sophie suspected, to exchange a few shy words with Karla than for the slice of pie and icy lemonade he always ordered.
Even Georgia Timmons had finally broken down and come in last week, ostensibly to discuss plans for the fund-raiser with Sophie, since it was only a week away—but she’d bought an éclair and three slices of cinnamon coffee cake before she left.
“I’m thinking I should get my own place,” Sophie said slowly, and her words seemed to echo around the walls of the kitchen. “You know that little cabin near the woods a half mile away? It’s on Good Luck land and it’s been in my family for generations.”
Rafe looked startled. “I know it. The old place off Timber Road.”
“My grandmother moved there for a time after my grandfather passed away, until she decided to take an apartment in town. But that was years ago. No one’s lived there in ages.” Sophie set her cup down and folded her arms on the table. “I was thinking . . . I could fix it up. It would be fun and I—we”—she smiled at him—“would have more privacy. And so would my mother—and Mr. Hartigan,” she added dryly.
The idea didn’t seem to sit well with Rafe. “That cabin’s pretty isolated.” He frowned. “Do you really want to live out there all . . .” He paused as his cell beeped.
“Ivy,” he muttered in the instant before he answered the call. “Hey, Ives—”
A moment later he sprang out of his chair.
“Okay, honey, calm down. I’m on my way. Be right there.”
“What’s wrong?” Sophie asked quickly.
“She woke up feeling sick. Just a sore throat and a cold, but I’ve got to go pick her up. Sorry.”
“Don’t be, it’s all right. Go.” She watched him take the stairs up to her bedroom two at a time to get his boots and jacket, and then she wrapped a couple of brownies and pecan cookies she’d brought home from the bakery yesterday in plastic wrap and gave them to him when he returned.
“For Ivy. And you. Want me to make some soup and bring it over later?”
“You’re incredible, you know that? That would be great.” He took time to kiss her warmly enough to make her want more.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you, Sophie.” Tracing a finger along her cheek, his lips brushed against hers. “And I don’t ever want to find out.”
The words reverberated through her. Before she could fully absorb them and frame a lighthearted response, Rafe had grabbed up the little bundle of pastries, called to Starbucks, and was striding toward the door, the mutt bounding at his boot heels.
“I’ll call you later,” he promised over his shoulder as he opened the door.
Sophie missed him the moment his truck rumbled up the road. Rafe Tanner was an easy man to miss. And an easy man to love . . .
Love?
No. It’s too soon to fall in love, she told herself quickly.
But whoever said love came with a timetable?
She sank into a kitchen chair, feeling dazed. And a little bit like she’d been punched in the stomach.
Do you fall in love by the calendar? she wondered, trying to stay calm. It’s been this long since my divorce, now I can fall in love again. It’s been this long since Ned broke my heart, now I can open it to another man.
Was there ever a good time, a safe time to fall in love? She hadn’t thought much about Ned these past weeks. But did that mean she was over him? Over the hurt?
Was she in love with Rafe?
A seed of panic took hold inside her, and she needed to take a couple of deep breaths not to lose it completely.
What happened to being careful, guarding her heart? One night making love with Rafe in a barn had pretty much blown everything else from her mind—all of her wariness, common sense, and defenses. She was in deep here, about as deep as she could get.
Sophie went still as a sparrow on a tree limb as she realized the truth.
It had sneaked up on her. They had fun and laughter, not to mention incredible sex. She loved his smile and all those muscles, and the way he touched her. How he looked at her with those magnetic blue eyes she could get lost in.
But she didn’t just love those things about him. She loved Rafe. As a man, a friend, a lover. The sum of all those things and so much more. Her whole heart belonged to him. The power of what she felt for him hit her all at once, and left her stunned.
Her feelings for Ivy had deepened too, without her even realizing it. Somehow she’d begun to lose her heart to Rafe’s daughter. Ivy was so vulnerable, so cautious, walking the tightrope of adolescence one small scary step at a time.
How had they both become so important to her? And, she wondered, springing out of the chair and pacing around the kitchen as she fought a new wave of panic, what were the chances Rafe felt the same way about her?
I don’t know what I’d do without you. And I don’t ever want to find out.
She didn’t want to find out what she’d do without him either. The very thought felt like a blow to her ribcage.
Shaken at finding herself vulnerable again, she tore furiously into cleaning the kitchen and then, with Tidbit at her heels, hurried upstairs to shower and dress. Her mind whirled in turmoil. She actually felt a little sick. As she stepped out of the shower, nausea rose in her throat, and for one horrible moment, she thought she was going to throw up.
Bracing herself against the bathroom sink, she sucked in deep breaths. And as the rain pattering against the bathroom window slowed to a soft drizzle and the clouds muddying the sky began to break, she suddenly realized that it was the end of September.
And she’d missed her period. By more than two weeks.
Sophie clung to the sink as the realization settled into her.
She was as regular as the sunrise. She never missed.
But this month she had.
We used protection. Always . . . or nearly always. Didn’t we? She thought back quickly, her heart racing, memories quivering through her. Had there been one time when they’d been in too much of a hurry, too caught up in each other? That night in Rafe’s bed when Ivy was away on her field trip? Had they used a condom then?
Or had a condom simply failed . . . ?
The nausea was still there. But suddenly she felt a smile spreading across her face. She must be crazy, but she felt the smile on her lips, felt it beating in her heart. Despite everything, joy flooded her like sunshine after weeks of gray.
A baby was growing inside her. A small, beautiful, innocent life. A tiny person to be nurtured and cherished.
And loved.
She looked down, touched her belly with wonder, and suddenly she was filled with a rush of hope and delight and anticipation—and an excitement she didn’t dare believe in all at the same time.
Chapter Twenty-three
The morning of the fund-raiser dawned cool and clear a week later. A perfect golden September day.
It was chilly enough for Sophie to shiver in her leather jacket as she unlocked the bakery door and stepped into the dim interior of A Bun in the Oven. But by eleven o’clock, when she and Karla and Ivy had finished packing up box after box of rhubarb cherry pies, double fudge brownies, chocolate chunk cookies, and cinnamon buns, it had warmed up to a mellow sixty degr
ees, and the sun glimmered like a ball of butter in the sapphire sky as they loaded the boxes into her Blazer and in the trunk of Karla’s Chevy.
Gran was meeting them at the high school, so Ivy rode beside Sophie as they ferried the food over to the grounds. Rafe was waiting for the vet to come take a look at one of his horses, but Ivy had offered to help Sophie set up the baked goods on the long tables arranged around the grounds of the high school, so Sophie had picked her up on her way to town.
But Ivy seemed completely distracted today. Sophie had to repeat herself several times before Ivy seemed to hear her, and even when she’d been busily packing brownies in pastry boxes, she’d seemed lost in her own world.
She looked especially pretty though in a soft pink pullover, jeans, and sneakers—she was even wearing tiny silver star earrings, but she kept checking her phone and didn’t seem much interested in making conversation.
“Expecting a call?” Sophie asked at last as she parked the Blazer on the far outskirts of the high school lot. It wasn’t even noon yet and the place was already packed.
“No. Well, yeah.” Ivy’s cheeks flushed a delicate seashell pink. “Shannon and Val. They’re going to call when they get here so we can walk around together and hang out.”
“Are you entering the raffle drawing for that mountain bike?” The bike was one of the big-ticket items of the fund-raiser. She’d heard dozens of kids at the bakery talking about it yesterday.
“Maybe . . . I guess.”
Ivy was already springing out of the car, ready to unload.
Something’s definitely on her mind, Sophie thought, and wondered if it could be a boy.
She sure didn’t sound very interested in the bike. But then, Ivy was into horses. Just like Rafe.
At the thought of Rafe, Sophie felt a quiver. She wasn’t sure if it was a nervous quiver or not. She hadn’t told him yet about the baby.
She hadn’t yet figured out exactly what words to say or when was the best time to tell him. How would he react? What if she saw consternation in his face?
