by Shirley Jump
“Did you run away again?”
Technically, she had, when she’d come here. She’d run away from her fears and her problems and all the things she didn’t want to think about. Running straight to a man with two kids who needed a mother. Either she was a masochist or this was some kind of message from up above about facing her fears.
“Running away doesn’t fix anything,” Katie said. Except Katie wasn’t taking her own advice. Wasn’t going back to Atlanta another form of running away? “You have to talk about what scares you, because that’s the only way to make it less scary.”
Yeah, she hadn’t done that with Sam, had she? She hadn’t told him about the miscarriage or her doubts about being a good fit for the future he dreamed of, or the real reasons she was going back to Georgia.
Libby picked at a hangnail and thought about that for a second. Her long brown hair swung forward, covering her face. “Sometimes I have a hard time talking. ’Cuz it makes me cry, and I don’t like to cry.”
Katie smiled. Oh, how she understood that. Her whole life had been spent trying to bring order from chaos, creating straight lines instead of emotional curves. “Honey, nobody likes to cry. But sometimes it’s good for you.”
Again, advice Katie should be taking herself. If she had talked and let her emotions out months ago, she probably wouldn’t have screwed up at work and lost her job. She probably wouldn’t have had to run away to Stone Gap. Even in the couple weeks or so that she had been here, the conversations she’d had with Colton and Della had helped.
The time with Sam, with the kids, had helped ease the loss in her heart. Katie’s hand strayed to her abdomen. The loss was still there, but the pain had begun to ebb. Maybe that would make it easier to go back to Atlanta, back to work and back to her life.
Except Libby leaned in just then and gave Katie a one-armed hug and whispered, “Thank you,” and Katie didn’t want to go anywhere. She couldn’t think of a single place on earth that was better than the bottom step of Sam’s staircase, sitting beside a little girl who was a kindred spirit.
Katie reached out and hugged Libby back, and whispered the same words, except hers came with a little catch in her throat. “Thank you, Libby.”
* * *
By the time the pizza arrived, life was back to normal. Henry and Libby were squabbling over a toy, the TV was playing SpongeBob and the dog was barking at his own shadow. Sam looked around at the mess, the noise, the kids, and thought he was one damned lucky guy.
Katie was quiet at dinner, but Sam attributed that to the kids making so much noise. After they were done with the pizza, he told them they could watch the last half of Frozen before they went to bed. He got to his feet at the same time Katie did. They nearly collided on their way to the sink.
He caught the scent of her perfume, watched the tick of her pulse in her throat. He’d gone from knowing she was there to being insanely aware of her presence. “Sorry,” he said.
“Sorry.” She laid the dirty plates in the sink and turned to box up the rest of the pizza. If she felt what he had, she gave no sign of it. The quietness from dinner lingered, and there was a distance between them now. “I should get going. Thanks for the pizza.”
He had hoped maybe after tonight she would change her mind about breaking up with him, but there was nothing in Katie’s demeanor or words that said she was thinking about kissing him half as much as he was thinking about kissing her.
He wanted to kick himself for yelling at her, for letting his fear and his doubts fill his words. All it had done was build a wall between them.
She started to turn away, but he laid a hand on her arm. “Stay. Please. Just give it a half hour, then it’s time for the kids to go to bed and you and I can talk.”
He could see the hesitation in her features, the reluctance. “I know I lashed out at you this afternoon. What happened with Libby wasn’t your fault. I was worried and lost my temper. I’m sorry again.” He kept his hand on her arm, thinking how nice it felt just to touch her. How much he wanted to hug her, kiss her. But the kids were only a room away, and Katie wasn’t looking at him the same way anymore. Maybe if they talked, he could straighten this out and they could go back to where they were before. “Please stay.”
She turned to the sink, her gaze on the dishes. “Okay. But only for a few minutes after the kids go to bed. I have some things I have to do tonight.”
Things that would bring her closer to returning to Atlanta? He didn’t want to ask.
Either way, she was staying for now, and that was good enough for him.
“Sounds good.” He couldn’t stop a grin from swinging across his face. Whatever was bothering Katie they could clear up with a conversation, he was sure. Because he liked this woman—more than liked her—and didn’t want her to slip away.
He started the water in the sink, but Katie stopped him. “I’ll do the dishes. I’m sure you have some work to get caught up on,” she said.
“Work can wait. I’ll take you up on doing the dishes, because it’s one of my least favorite chores, but I will take the opportunity to go watch Elsa for the thousandth time with my kids.” Sam pressed a kiss to Katie’s cheek, then headed for the living room.
He sank onto the sofa, and felt the world set itself to rights again when Henry and Libby curled under his arms. How long had it been since he had done this? Far too long, that was for sure. By the time the movie ended, Henry had fallen asleep and Libby was yawning. Sam hoisted Henry into his arms, then took Libby’s hand. “Come on, Libby Bear, bedtime.”
Libby nodded, too tired to mount her usual protest.
Sam paused in the kitchen, where Katie had stayed. She’d cleaned up from dinner and was doing something on her phone, probably answering emails. Accepting that job offer she’d mentioned? He hoped not, at least not until she heard him out tonight. “I’ll be back down in ten minutes, tops.”
“That’s fine,” she said.
He took the kids to bed, tucking Henry in first, then heading to Libby’s room. She was already in her pajamas and under her covers. Sam sank onto her bed and smoothed the hair across her forehead. “Are you okay, Libby?”
She nodded. “I’m sorry I ran away, Daddy.”
He’d never get tired of hearing that word again. Just hearing her say “Daddy” told him they’d come a long way in the last few days. “I’m just glad you’re home. Next time you get upset, come talk to me, okay?”
Libby fiddled with the edge of her blanket. “Is it okay if I talk to Katie sometimes? Because she’s a girl and sometimes...”
“It’s girl stuff.” He chuckled. “I understand.”
Then he thought about how Katie was leaving soon. He debated telling Libby, then decided she had enough to deal with. Later, hopefully much later, he’d deal with that. “Good night, Libby Bear.”
“Wait, Daddy. Can you read me a story?”
As long as she kept saying Daddy, he’d read every book on her shelf. He’d missed so much in the last year and a half and vowed not to miss a moment more.
Sam pulled out Libby’s favorite book—the same one about the princess he had read a few nights ago—and sat back against Libby’s headboard. This time, she curled onto his chest, and fell asleep before he got past page ten. He leaned down, tucked her under the covers, then pressed a kiss to her temple. “I love you, Libby Bear,” he whispered. She smiled in her sleep, and Sam tiptoed out of the room, counting his blessings.
Katie had moved to the back deck while he was upstairs. He opened a bottle of wine, then came outside with two glasses, handing one to her.
“Thanks,” she said.
He took a seat in the other Adirondack chair. Above them, the sky had turned purple as night began to take over the land. It was still warm out, with a light breeze that tickled the tops of the trees. “I should be thanking you,” he said.
>
“For what? I lost your daughter today.” She put up a hand when he started to speak. “And please don’t apologize for getting mad at me. You were totally justified in that. I screwed up.”
He took her hand in his. Her fingers were cold, and he rubbed the backs with his own. “You were human. There’s nothing wrong with that. Heck, I lost Libby once in a supermarket. Wendy had just had Henry, so I told her I’d take the kids to the grocery store so she could get some rest. Henry was a handful, colicky, and I was trying to soothe him. Next thing I knew, I turned around and Libby was gone.”
“Where did she go?”
“The toy aisle.” Sam chuckled. “I should have known. I ran up and down all the other aisles, got the manager to call her name on the loudspeaker, and when we found her, she was sitting on the floor, playing with a Barbie doll. I felt like the worst parent in the world. I think maybe—” he paused “—maybe that’s when I started to pull back, to be involved less. To work more. Wendy was such a fabulous mom, you know? I felt like all I was going to do was screw it up.”
“Your kids love you, Sam. They don’t expect perfection. They just want you to be there.”
“You’ve been telling me that all along, but I haven’t listened. I guess I was afraid...” He drew in a deep breath. “Afraid that I’d never be as good as their mother was. She really was a great mom. But I realized something today, when I was up in that castle at the playground with Libby. She didn’t need me to do anything other than be there and listen and hold her when she cried.” He drew in another breath and let it out again. He vowed that from this moment forward, things would be different. Never again would he forget what was important.
He thought of Libby curling into him, of her saying “Daddy” for the first time in months. Whatever it took, he wasn’t going to lose that again. “I have to do a better job at balancing my career and being a good dad.”
Katie took a sip of her wine and looked out over the lawn. “Trust me, you could be doing a lot worse. Your kids are happy and healthy. You are doing your best, and that’s a lot better than the crappy job of parenting some people do.”
“People like your mom.” He thought of what Colton had said. Was that part of why Katie wanted to run? Because she was afraid of getting close to anyone again?
She hung her head and stared at the wine in her glass. From somewhere down the street, there was the sound of kids playing basketball. A horn beeping. A bird making one last call.
“Yeah, my mom,” Katie said finally. “And when it mattered most, what happened? I was just as bad as she was.”
“Are you talking about today? Like I said, Katie, that wasn’t a mistake. You had no idea Libby was going to run off.”
“I’m not talking about today.” Katie pulled her hand out of his, then pushed off from the chair and got to her feet. She wrapped her arms around her waist and stood slightly to the right, her face averted from his. The crescent moon shone above her, like a halfhearted smile. “Listen, I know where a relationship with a guy like you ends. You told me yourself you want to get married and have more kids. I’m not the girl for that, so please, just stop trying to make this work.”
He rose, leaving his wineglass on the arm of the chair. He came around in front of her, but still she wouldn’t look at him. “And what makes you think you’re not the right girl?” He leaned in closer, until only a breath separated them. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. He refused to let this woman go back to Georgia without a fight. “Because I think you’re the right girl. I think you’re very, very much the right girl, Katie.”
Before she could pull away, he leaned in and kissed her. A sweet kiss at first, slow and easy, then her arms went around his neck, and his hands went to her waist and he pulled her close. Their kiss deepened, the heat building as quickly as it had before, and—
Katie jerked back and shook her head. “We can’t do this, Sam. You’re wrong about me. I’m not the right girl for you. Just let that whole idea go. Let me go.”
“I can’t.” He took a step closer, then brushed a tendril of hair off her face. “I’m falling in love with you.”
He hadn’t realized that until this morning, until he’d finally stopped hiding behind the wall of work. The thing that kept him from being afraid of losing someone close to him again.
Katie’s eyes widened. “You...you can’t. Don’t do this, Sam.”
“I don’t understand you. You kiss me, you make love to me, you fit in with my kids like adding cheese to chili.” He grinned at the joke, but she didn’t echo his smile. He took her hands in his, but they were cold again. “Why don’t you think we’re good together? Why don’t you want the same thing as I do? Because I sure as hell thought you did.”
“I do want it.” She yanked her hands out of his and let out a gusty sigh. “I can’t have it. I can’t explain... I have to go.”
She spun on her heel, but he stepped in front of her before she could escape. There was something Katie was leaving out, some missing piece to the equation. He hadn’t been blind when he’d seen her light up around the kids or plan that beach adventure game or make love to him. That had all been real, and true, but now Katie was acting as if it had never happened. “Why are you not right for me? Tell me.”
“Because...you want different things than I do.” She glanced away from him, and he knew, deep in his gut, that for some reason Katie was lying. To him, to herself.
“You don’t want to get married and have a family?”
“Once upon a time, I thought I did, but...”
“But what?” He put a hand to her cheek, searching her gaze. “Tell me, Katie.”
“Why can’t you let this go? I lost your daughter today. If anything proves I shouldn’t be with you, it’s that.”
“Katie, you had an argument with Libby and she ran off. Kids do that. It’s okay. Everyone’s okay.”
She shook her head. Tears filled her eyes. “Just let me go, Sam. Stop trying to make me into something I’m not.”
“You’re everything I want, Katie. Why can’t you—”
“Because I lost the baby!” She tore away from him and stalked across the yard, coming to a stop in front of the large oak tree. A tire swing hung from its widest branch, drifting lazily in the breeze.
Lost the baby? He let those words roll around in his mind for a moment. They’d had sex only a few days ago and they’d used protection, so he knew she couldn’t mean his child. He thought about what Colton had said, about how there had been events in Katie’s recent past that had spurred her coming to Stone Gap. Was that part of it? “What do you mean, you lost the baby?”
The yard was quiet, with just the soft sound of crickets chirping and the whisper of a breeze in the trees. The rain had stopped and everything sparkled in the moonlight.
“Maybe if I tell you, you’ll see why I’m so wrong for you, for this family.” Her voice was hoarse, and tears welled in her eyes. “I got pregnant a few months ago. At the time, I was sure I didn’t want to settle down, or have a family, because my mom was so terrible, you know? And I had always vowed I would never turn out like her, so I thought if I didn’t have a family, I never could. But as I got used to the idea of being pregnant, I started to get excited about it. I started making plans, clearing out space for a nursery. Creating a future.”
“What about the baby’s father?”
She scoffed. “Turns out he wasn’t interested in anything more permanent than a weekend. As soon as I told him I was pregnant, he was gone.”
Bastard. Sam couldn’t understand men who did that. Man enough to have sex, but not man enough to raise a child.
“But I was okay with that,” Katie went on. “I wanted the baby and I was excited about it, but still scared, you know, that I wasn’t ready. So...” She bit her lip and looked away for a minute, her gaze lingering on the darkness in the b
ack of the yard. “So I worked. A lot. Extra hours, weekends, whatever I could do, to try to fatten up my savings so I’d be ready when the baby came.”
He could understand pouring yourself into work to avoid the memories, the things that hurt. He’d done it himself for so long. Too long.
“And then...” Her voice trailed off.
She didn’t need to finish the sentence. He could see how much the memory hurt her. But as the tears welled again in her eyes, he put the pieces together. “You don’t think working overtime caused that, do you? That you were at fault?”
“Maybe if I’d rested more and taken care of my body more...” She cursed and shook her head. The tears brimmed and spilled over her lashes, running in little rivers down her cheeks. “I woke up one morning and it was over. I knew it, the second I felt the pain. And it was my fault. I don’t care what the doctor said, I was the reason the baby...” She swiped at her tears. “The reason I couldn’t do the one thing that millions of women do every year.”
His heart broke for her, for this woman who loved so much, and yet couldn’t forgive herself. “Katie, miscarriages happen all the time. It doesn’t mean it was your fault.”
“Don’t you understand? I can’t be a mother. I can’t keep track of your kid, and I can’t even hold on to my own.” She spun away from him, standing tall and cold in the dark. “So just let me go, Sam.”
“I can’t. Because I already love you.” The minute he said the words, he knew they were true. He loved the way she smiled, the way she talked to his kids, the way she made every burden he had seem easier with her beside him.
She stood there, her back to him, for a long moment. “Please don’t say that. You’re not listening to me. I... I should go.”
He came up in front of her and waited until she raised her gaze to his. “You’re running away because you’re scared. I know, because I did it myself for years with my job. I ran away from my family because I was scared I was not going to be half the parent my wife was. I ran away because it was easier than facing that fear and being here. It almost cost me my relationship with my kids.” He looped a finger under the stubborn lock of hair that had fallen across Katie’s forehead again, and tucked it behind her ear. “You’re scared, too. I get that. But don’t let that fear ruin your life.”
