Oh, he knew none of that was a good idea. After all, where could it lead? Jessica’s heart was taken by a man who no longer lived. She still wept or withdrew when Joe Mason was mentioned. It was possible she wouldn’t ever be ready to love again. On top of all that there was the matter of her pregnancy. How would the baby impact any future relationship? How would it impact him if he chose to pursue something more with Jessica? And, of course, there was the problem with location. This was her hometown, but it wasn’t his. His stay was supposed to be temporary. Would she consider living elsewhere? He didn’t know. He’d never asked. Why would he? He had no reason to ask.
He motioned for Kris to join him, and the two of them went inside. The dog paused in the utility room, lapping water from the bowl next to her empty food dish. Ridley kept walking. He passed through the kitchen and went into the living room. His eyes moved to the mantel. His mom had said she planned for a TV to hang on the wall above the mantel. Fortunately, cable television was available, even this far out from town, and now that he didn’t feel the need to isolate himself from the rest of the world, he decided that would be his next project for the folks. That and the internet.
Which took his thoughts back to Jessica. Had he asked her yesterday if her new router continued to work properly? He couldn’t remember. He did remember that he’d liked her mom. And he hoped she’d liked him. She’d seemed glad to have him living next door.
He shook his head. What good was it to stand there and think about Jessica when he could walk right over to her house and talk to her? Maybe it was temporary. Maybe they only had the summer. But he liked her company. Was it a crime to like a woman’s company without a promise of tomorrow? No. No, it wasn’t a crime.
“Come on, Kris.” He headed out the door again, the dog at his heels.
Through a nap haze, Jessica heard Kris’s sharp bark, the one meant to get attention. The one that meant, “I’ve come for a visit. Let me in.” Amazing how quickly Jessica had learned to interpret the dog’s language.
Releasing a soft groan, she used the back of the sofa to pull herself to a sitting position. A moment later she stood.
“Anybody home?” Ridley called, followed by a soft rap.
Pressing on the small of her back with her fingertips, trying to stretch out a few kinks, Jessica moved toward the kitchen, stopping when Ridley and Kris came into view beyond the screen door. “Hi.” She sent them a sleepy smile.
Ridley grinned back. “Did we wake you?”
“No,” she lied, knowing he wasn’t fooled. “Come on in.” She motioned him forward before turning so he wouldn’t see her yawn.
“Is your mom still here?” The screen door announced its opening.
Jessica faced him again. “She left right after lunch.”
“Sorry I missed her.” He moved into the center of the kitchen and stopped.
She smiled again, feeling happy for no explainable reason. “She’ll be back again. Probably after her trip to see my sister.”
“I forgot to ask yesterday if your internet’s still working as it should. No trouble with the new router?”
“It’s working. No trouble.”
“Good. Good.”
She stifled a second yawn. “I think I could use a cup of coffee. My doctor allows me twelve ounces of caffeine a day, when and if I want it. I want it. You?”
“Sure. If you’re going to make it.”
“I am.” She headed for the coffeemaker, slowing as she passed between Ridley and the counter. Funny how his nearness made her breath catch, how afraid she was that her enlarged belly might rub against his arm. Her awareness of him had always surprised her. Right from the very start.
Jessica had loved two men in her life—her dad and Joe. In very different ways, of course. Her dad had spoiled her rotten, had thrown her into the air as a toddler, had rubbed her back when she was sick in bed and had to stay home from school, had held her when she shed teenaged tears because she thought herself ugly, had grinned with pride as he’d walked her down the aisle. And Joe . . . Joe had loved her for a season, then had broken her heart. Would she ever want to risk another broken heart?
“You shouldn’t become involved with anyone right now,” her mom’s voice whispered in her memory. “You’re too vulnerable.”
“Can I help?” Ridley asked.
“No, thanks.”
She heard him move and couldn’t stop herself from glancing over her shoulder. He had stepped to the nearby counter and leaned his backside against it. He seemed comfortable while she felt as if the kitchen was shrinking in size. She looked forward again. Soon she had the ground coffee out of the fridge and the reservoir in the coffeemaker filled with water. It wasn’t long before she pressed the button for it to begin brewing.
“Did you make the deadline on those orders?” Ridley asked, breaking the brief silence.
She looked over her shoulder a second time. “Yeah. I did. And I’m not going back into my studio until Monday. A whole weekend off.”
“Good for you.” He smiled.
The look made something inside of her melt like butter.
I like him. I like him so very much. Trying to sound normal, she asked, “What did you do with yourself today?”
“I drove down to Boise to see Tammy Treehorn.”
Surprised, she turned to face him. “You did?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“And I think I took care of that forgiveness matter you asked me about. Not just Ms. Treehorn but the unknowns too.”
“That’s good. I’m glad for you.” She was glad for him. She also envied him, although she couldn’t tell him how she felt. Not without explaining why—which she couldn’t do. It was one thing to tell her mother about Joe’s unfaithfulness, another to share it with someone outside her immediate family. But her heart told her she would never be completely free of the hurt until she forgave Joe. She’d made strides—back to God, back to her faith, back to a kind of peace. Still . . .
“Something’s wrong,” Ridley said softly. “You look unhappy.”
“Do I?” For some unknown reason, she touched her mouth with the fingertips of her right hand. “I’m not. Not really.”
His gaze lowered from her eyes to her lips, and she felt her breath catch. She saw his desire to kiss her and knew she wanted the same. Knew she wouldn’t resist him, even if she should. He pushed away from the counter and crossed the kitchen with only a few, measured strides. She tipped her head back so she could hold his gaze.
“Jessica,” he whispered.
She almost couldn’t hear him over the pounding of her heart.
He cupped the sides of her head with his large hands. Tenderly. Gently. Her eyes fluttered closed, and her breath came out on a sigh mere seconds before his lips pressed against hers. There was an explosion of color behind her eyelids. His arms moved to embrace her. She swayed into him, truly weak in the knees. She would have collapsed if he hadn’t been there to hold her.
Perhaps that’s why the baby kicked. Perhaps her baby feared she would fall. Or perhaps it was her rapid heartbeat that alarmed the little life. Whatever the reason, the hard jab to her abdomen brought her to her senses. It made her remember all the reasons her mom thought she was vulnerable and should be careful. She drew back, her breathing quick and shallow as she opened her eyes to stare into his. “I think . . . I think the coffee is ready.”
“Yes.” His voice sounded gruff. Maybe the baby’s kick—which he couldn’t have helped but feel—had brought him to his senses as well. He took a step back from her.
She busied herself with pouring coffee into two oversized mugs, hating that her hands remained unsteady when she carried them to the kitchen table. Silently, he followed her there, and they sat in chairs opposite each other. She stirred a little sugar into her coffee, not because she wanted the sweetener but because she wanted a reason not to look at him yet.
“Was that an unforgivable mistake?” he asked at long last.
&nbs
p; She lifted her gaze. “Not unforgivable.”
“But still a mistake.”
“I’m not . . . I don’t . . .” Not knowing what to say, she let the words die in her throat.
He nodded. “Bad timing on my part.”
“Bad timing,” she echoed in a whisper.
They sipped their coffees during another long silence.
“Jessica.” He set down his mug.
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry my timing was off.” He leaned forward. “But I don’t want that to ruin things between us.”
What is there between us, Ridley? she wondered as she looked into his eyes, her pulse quickening again.
He pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “I’d better go feed Kris. She’s gotta be hungry.”
Jessica looked at the dog, who lay peacefully on the floor nearby. Kris didn’t look the least bit hungry or in a hurry to go home. But that excuse was as good as any to let him leave.
She gave him a wobbly smile. “You can tell me about your trip to Boise later.”
“Yeah.” He didn’t return her smile. “Later.”
The next day, Ridley threw himself into repairs with even more intensity than when he’d first arrived in Hope Springs. Only this time he wasn’t an hour’s drive away from what he wanted to escape. The focus of his troubled thoughts and feelings was living right next door.
That kiss. That blasted kiss. Why had he given in to the desire? He should have known he was moving too fast for her. And there were numerous reasons that he shouldn’t move at all. Reasons he’d gone over in his head time and time again. The first of which, it was obvious she wasn’t ready to fall in love again.
Love? The word reverberated in his mind, in his heart. Was that what he felt for Jessica Mason? Was it love?
He’d hoped to one day find love with the right woman. He’d hoped to marry and have a family. But Jessica was already pregnant. Her child would be a reminder of the husband she’d loved and lost. Did she have it in her heart to love again? Or perhaps he should be asking, did he have it in himself to love her baby as his own? Because that’s what a relationship with her would require. He couldn’t spend his life wondering if he measured up to Joe Mason, and he would have to be able to love the child she carried exactly the same as he would love any children they might have together later. He wanted to believe it would make no difference to him. But how could he be sure?
Maybe he couldn’t measure up to Joe Mason.
He’d come to Hope Springs to get away from his career troubles, and now it seemed he’d landed in a completely different kind of problem. One of a romantic nature.
Jessica . . .
Jessica . . .
Jessica . . .
It would be easier to walk away, to leave Hope Springs and go back to the life he knew.
Definitely easier.
Definitely.
KUNA, IDAHO
Christmas Day, 1931
Andrew finished up his evening chores. Christmas or not, the animals had to be tended to, especially in the cold of winter. When he opened the barn door, he found snow falling. It had been doing so long enough for the world to have turned white. He paused and watched it for a while, letting the silence settle over him.
It had been a good day. The Christmas service at church this morning. His parents over for dinner in the afternoon. A few gifts to open beside the Christmas tree in the living room. Shawls for his mother and mother-in-law. A new pipe for his father. A bracelet for Helen. Mother Greyson had knitted him a scarf and hat, and his parents had given him a pair of gloves.
Pulling his coat collar close around his neck, he strode toward the house. He shook off the snow and stomped his boots before stepping inside. The kitchen was dark except for the faint orange glow showing around the door of the stove. He stepped over to it and warmed himself, then moved to the living-room entrance. Helen sat alone in the room, seated close to the lamp, her sewing box beside her.
“It’s snowing,” he told her.
“I saw.” She set the sewing box on the floor near her feet. “Mother’s gone to bed. She said it was early but she couldn’t hold her eyes open another minute.” She patted the sofa. “Would you like to join me?”
Pleased by the unexpected invitation, he moved across the room and sat where she indicated.
“It was a nice Christmas,” she said, her gaze on the small tree in the corner. She and her mother had decorated it a few days earlier with ornaments made of paper and strings of popped corn.
“Yes, it was nice.”
“It was good to have your parents here.”
“Yes.”
“I hope they didn’t think ill of me, that I didn’t give you your gift along with the others.”
He hadn’t expected a gift from her, but he didn’t say so.
“It wasn’t something I could wrap.”
He turned his eyes on her again.
“Andrew . . . I’m going to have a baby.”
His heart seemed to stop, then race. “Are you . . . are you sure?”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
For many months, beginning even before his father-in-law’s death, they’d shared a bed without intimacy, but there had come a night in the autumn—not long after Martha and Eddie Edwards’s wedding—when she’d allowed him to draw her into his embrace. Their relationship had been different after that. Still tentative at times, but different. Better. Did she love him again? He didn’t know. She hadn’t said so. But the sadness in her eyes was seen much less often.
“Helen . . .” He hoped his love came through in his voice before he leaned in and kissed her. When he pulled back again, he asked, “When?”
“Early July.”
“An Independence Day baby?”
“Maybe.”
“Are you . . . happy about it?”
She nodded.
“For who hath despised the day of small things?” The verse from Zechariah played in his mind. It came with a new understanding and appreciation. They had taken many small steps toward each other over recent months. They had experienced numerous small beginnings. He wasn’t to despise how little they might be nor disparage how long it had taken them to happen.
And now all of those steps and new beginnings had brought them to this moment. They were to have a baby. He and Helen.
He could do nothing but rejoice and thank God for bringing them this far.
Chapter 18
Between Billie Fisher and Carol Donaldson, Jessica hadn’t had a chance of staying home from the Independence Day celebrations in town. It was her own fault. She’d stopped being a complete recluse, let herself go to lunch with a friend and to church on Sundays, and suddenly no one honored her desire for privacy. And perhaps that was just as well. Being with friends might keep her from thinking too much about Ridley . . . and that kiss. Oh, that kiss.
Hope Springs had a nice-sized park with a band shell, a large covered picnic area, and some tall trees for shade. The temperature had risen to 80 degrees by the time Billie and Jessica arrived in town on the Fourth. Billie had insisted on driving out to get her, probably so Jessica couldn’t change her mind and not go at the last minute.
“Look.” Billie pointed. “There’s Carol.” She waved her arm before going to the back of her car and pulling items from the trunk—a couple of blankets, a rolling cooler, and two camping chairs. She hadn’t allowed Jessica to bring anything other than her favorite brand of sunscreen.
They joined Carol on the grassy edge of the park, exchanging hugs.
Carol said, “I staked out a good spot for us near the band shell that will be in the shade the entire afternoon.”
“That’s great,” Billie replied. “Let’s go.”
Carol smiled at Jessica as they walked. “I hope you’re taking a rest now that you filled those orders.” She looked at Billie. “You should have seen the number of boxes and padded envelopes I picked up at her house over the last week. I thought she was single-handedly
trying to make sure I keep my job.”
They all laughed, but Jessica thought her friend might be half serious.
The park bustled with activity. Several food trucks sat parked on the east side, all of them doing a brisk business, and it appeared a three-legged race was underway at the southern end of the park. The sandpit at the north end hosted a volleyball game.
It had been announced the previous week that there would be no fireworks display due to the extremely dry conditions. The mountain areas had experienced an unusually wet spring, but rain hadn’t been seen in many weeks, meaning there was plenty of dry fuel should a spark land in the wrong place. Instead of fireworks, lights had been strung from tree to tree and all around the band shell. Later there would be music and dancing. Not that Jessica would take part in the latter.
After leaving their gear at the spot Carol had chosen, the three women made their way first to one of the vendors to buy flavored snow cones. Jessica chose the rainbow—the sign said the flavors were cherry, lime, pineapple, and blueberry.
“Your lips are going to be an interesting color when you’re done.” Billie laughed.
“Jessica Mason! Is that you? I haven’t seen you since the funeral.”
Recognizing the voice, she tried not to cringe as she turned around. “Ellery. Yes, it’s me.” She forced a smile. Ellery Wallace was not one of her favorite people.
Strikingly beautiful with delicate features, dark hair, green eyes, and a tall, lithe body, Ellery had a toxic personality, loving to pit one person against another for her own amusement. “Good grief!” Her eyes widened. “Look at you. You’ve gotten so fat!”
“Thanks.” Jessica couldn’t hold her smile in place any longer.
“A woman gets larger when she’s having a baby,” Carol said dryly, drawing closer to Jessica’s right side.
“Pregnant?” A little of the color left Ellery’s cheeks. “I hadn’t heard. Did Joe know before—” She broke off.
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