Falling For The Mom-To-Be (Maple Springs #1)
Page 3
Chapter Two
The next day, Annie was in the kitchen when she heard the quick knock on her front door. She gulped the rest of her tea and headed for the living room. She was grateful for Ginger’s choice. The calming blend eased her morning sickness, but she wished that Matthew hadn’t found out. She didn’t want anyone to know about the baby until it was safe. Not until she reached that halfway mark. Not until she’d received a good report from the ultrasound.
Another rat-a-tat, and then the door opened. “Annie?”
Matthew.
“Morning.” She smiled. She’d decided to support his repair-the-roof effort. It’d help him repay what he thought he owed Jack.
Matthew didn’t smile in return. He looked stormy despite the bright sunshine outside. “Don’t you keep your door locked?”
She blinked at his sharp tone. Who’d he think he was talking to her like that? This was Maple Springs, not her town house in Grand Rapids. “Sometimes. And if you must know, I was already up and out this morning.”
She’d gone to her doctor for her second appointment. She’d been labeled high-risk due to her age and history of fertility problems. Not welcome news.
Matthew stepped into the living room, followed by a younger version of him. “This is my brother Luke. We’re going to take a look at the roof.”
“Nice to meet you, Luke.” Annie stepped forward and offered the young man her hand. He was also tall, broad-shouldered and had light brown hair and bright blue eyes.
“You, too.” When he smiled, he resembled Matthew even more.
“Luke’s a roofer with our uncle over the summer months when he’s not in college. With his help, we’ll crank this out in no time.”
She didn’t like the idea of either one spending their downtime working on her house. “Let me know how much a job like this costs, so I can pay you the going rate.”
“Nope. It’s just the materials,” Matthew answered before his brother had a chance. “I’ll give you a list.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Wait just a minute. You can’t expect your brother to work for free.”
Matthew grinned. “He’s not. We’ve got our own deal.”
Annie glanced at Luke.
“I’m going to move in with him. Matty and Cam are putting me up for the summer at no rent.” Luke winked at her. “Your roof’s not that big so this should be a snap.”
That was no deal. That sounded more like slave labor. Annie started to argue. “Now, look here—”
“Luke, there’s a ladder in the garage,” Matthew cut her off. He hadn’t looked away from her, either. “Why don’t you check out the existing shingles? I’ll be out in a minute.”
Heat infused her body as she stared him down. Any minute now steam was bound to blow from her nostrils. This was still her house! Since when had Matthew turned tyrant?
“Sure.” Luke looked between them and then left.
“You can’t just take over.” Annie’s voice came out shrill.
“I’m helping you.” His eyes blazed with something fierce and protective.
She snorted. “Are you? Are you really?”
“I’m trying to!” He stepped closer and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. But Luke doing this is nothing you need be concerned about. He’s itching to get out of Mom and Dad’s, and Cam and I are gone most of the summer.”
She didn’t like it, but nodded. If Matthew’s little brother welcomed the arrangement, who was she to champion him? Matthew had refused payment from Jack, as well, when they’d talked about doing the roof. It’s what friends did for each other, right?
She remembered the conversation between the two men over pizza. They’d been going through pictures of their scuba-diving trip to the Manitou Islands on a rare week of scheduled time off together. They’d gone through the Manitou passage hundreds of times with the freighter but had wanted to dive the area. Scattered in those northern Lake Michigan waters lay dozens of past shipwrecks that Annie would rather not think about let alone see.
She swallowed a wave of upset. Her nausea came and went. She usually felt fine by afternoon into evening. The doctor had said that her morning sickness was a good sign, but she’d still require close monitoring throughout her pregnancy. She didn’t want to lose this baby after years of trying and failing.
“What is it?” He touched her elbow.
Annie came back to the present. “What?”
“You were far away just now. You okay?”
“Fine.”
He gave her a long look but didn’t push. “We’ll be up on the roof figuring out what we need. It won’t take long.”
“I’d like a copy of that list, you know, so I can pay for the materials.” Annie turned to go. “Oh, and Matthew?”
He leaned against the front door. His presence filled the room. He was only a few inches taller than Jack, yet today Matthew seemed so much larger than her late husband. “Yeah?”
This was harder to say than she’d expected. She didn’t like people doing her favors, but having someone she could trust take care of her roof was comforting all the same. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Do me a favor?”
“Yeah?”
“Keep your door locked.” He gave her a nod and left.
Annie stared at the door and wrestled with that request, knowing he’d made it with good intentions. Matthew was home for only a month before heading back out on the lakes for two or three. By the time he returned home again, she’d be huge. Would she make it that far?
“Please God...” Annie whispered, and then paused.
She hadn’t prayed much lately. In fact, she’d stopped talking to God after Jack’s death. Oh, she’d cried a lot, and even shouted her anger and confusion for losing her husband without notice.
Why’d God take Jack when he’d never been diagnosed with heart disease? As far as she knew, it didn’t even run in his family. How were they supposed to prevent something they had no knowledge of? How was that fair? Wasn’t God supposed to play fair?
But God was God. And God had taken Jack.
Annie’s eyes burned. She was finally going to have a baby. A sweet treasure Jack had wanted for so long. A gift she’d still never be able to give him.
What if God took her baby, too?
Resting her hands on the slightest swell of her middle, Annie didn’t want to think about how she’d abused her body for years to dance. Staying reed-thin for lead parts and lift partners. Punishment, her mother-in-law called it. She’d punished her body for years and that’s why she couldn’t conceive.
Annie’s whisper came out on a ragged breath. “Please Lord, keep this baby safe.”
* * *
The next morning, Matthew walked into the warm kitchen of his parents’ home. His mom stirred something on the stove that smelled like maple so he snuck close and peeked over her shoulder. “What’s for breakfast? Pancakes?”
“Matthew!” Helen Zelinsky clutched the base of her neck and laughed. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
He spied the saucepan of steaming oatmeal and grimaced. He’d grown up on the stuff and never once ate it since moving out. “Got any bacon?”
“Maybe. Now get out of my way. There’s fresh coffee in the pot.”
Matthew didn’t hesitate to fix a cup. Then he pulled out a chair and sat down. The kitchen table had been set with bowls, small glasses for juice, milk and a bottle of maple syrup made in the Zelinsky sugar shack. He knew the routine. A hot breakfast was a must according to his mom no matter what the season.
“Matthew.” His father nodded as he entered the kitchen. “What brings you here this early?”
A tall man who’d retired from a long career in the Army, Andy Zelinsky had started a maple syrup operation years ago. Matthew’s parents spent the
ir golden summers into fall manning booths at craft fairs all over northern Michigan to sell their product. They didn’t do too badly, either.
“I’m picking up Luke. We’re going to work on Annie Marshall’s roof this week.” They’d purchased the supplies they needed and were ready to start. He bent down and petted the cat. Tigger butted his head against Matthew’s ankles, purring like mad.
His father poured juice in a glass. “Nice of you to help out there.”
His parents had gone to Jack’s funeral. They knew the situation. Jack had been to their house with him on many occasions to ice-fish since his folks had inland lake frontage. And Jack had bought Zelinsky syrup every Christmas for Annie.
Midsip of his coffee, he paused and set the cup back down. He’d have to make sure Annie got her half gallon this year. When would the baby be born? Surely, by Christmas.
He grabbed a bowl and spoon. “I was going to help Jack with it this summer, anyway.”
“How is Annie? Poor woman.” His mom set the pan of oatmeal on a pad and then retreated for a plate of bacon from the microwave.
Matthew grabbed a couple slices before she set it down.
His mom slapped his hand. “We need to pray first.”
He popped the bacon in his mouth and gasped. “Hot.”
His mother chuckled. “See, Bozia punish.”
Matthew shook his head. Those were his grandmother’s words. He’d heard them all his life, but this time they stopped him cold. Did God really punish? If so, what might be in store for him for breaking the tenth commandment?
“So answer my question.” His mom gave him a sharp look.
“What question?” He reached for another piece of bacon and set it on his napkin.
“How is Annie Marshall?”
He shrugged. “She’s holding her own.”
How’s a woman supposed to be when her husband recently died? Add a baby on the way and it was a wonder Annie still got out of bed, let alone yammer at him for bringing his brother to work on the roof.
The image of Annie with her hands on her hips flashed through his mind. She was even prettier riled up. Why’d he always notice how she looked?
“So sad.” His mother slipped into a chair and served up oatmeal into bowls.
“Yeah.”
“Hey.” His youngest brother entered the kitchen dressed in old jeans and a T-shirt. At twenty years old, Luke still lived at home when he wasn’t away at college.
“Now, we can bless the food.” His father bowed his head.
They all recited the simple prayer his family had used forever. “Bless us, O Lord! and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
“Amen.” Matthew poured syrup over his oatmeal, crumpled bacon on top and dug in.
“Uncle John said we’ve got three weeks before his contractor’s account needs to be paid.” Luke stuffed bacon into his mouth.
Matthew nodded. “No problem.”
“You’re not paying for her roof—” His mom started.
“Leave him be, Helen.”
Matthew nodded toward his father. “She’s paying for the materials. Luke asked Uncle John if we could use his account for the discount.”
“Let’s hurry up and get over there.” Luke didn’t linger, nor did he believe in wasting time. But then, he winked. “I want to see you two argue again.”
“Argue?” His mom asked, horrified.
“You should have seen them stare each other down like a couple of alley cats.” Luke grinned.
“Matthew! Why were you arguing with her?”
He kicked his brother under the table, connecting with Luke’s boot instead of anything that might hurt.
His kid brother’s grin only got wider.
“Annie doesn’t accept my help very well,” Matthew finally replied.
His father’s eyebrows rose.
His mom exchanged a look with his dad before she said, “Honey, be careful. She’s still grieving and probably vulnerable.”
“Sure, Mom.”
Too late. He’d already kissed her. He wouldn’t admit that to his mother. Bad enough, he wanted to do it again. That tenth commandment came to mind. Was it considered coveting when the neighbor’s wife was now a widow?
Matthew polished off the rest of his oatmeal and another slice of bacon and then looked at Luke. “Ready?”
“I was born ready.”
Matthew chuckled. “Let’s go.”
It was a short drive to Annie’s. The Zelinsky farm lay only ten miles north of town on fifty acres wedged between a small inland lake and state land. By the time they arrived, the truck hauling a rented Dumpster had already backed far into Annie’s driveway. She’d left her car parked out front as he’d asked when he’d called her last night. She’d sounded tired, sad even, but told him she was fine. She was always fine. He’d heard that statement too many times to believe it.
After inspecting the roof yesterday, Luke had suggested they tear off the old shingles that were too worn for an overlay. Matthew had agreed even though it pulled his brother away from his summer job a couple more days. Good thing the kid worked for a relative who happened to own the largest roofing company in the area. They’d pulled a permit and rented a Dumpster lickety-split.
Matthew didn’t want to cut corners and he didn’t want leaks cropping up because he hadn’t been thorough. Like that night Jack had complained after eating those hot wings. Matthew should have offered his friend aspirin instead of antacids. That small move might have saved Jack’s life.
In the backyard, Luke steadied the ladder. He had a couple of garden forks in hand, ready to climb up onto the roof. “Once we’ve stripped off the old shingles, we’ll know for sure the condition underneath.”
Matthew looked through the kitchen window, expecting to see Annie there at the sink. Odd. She hadn’t come out. She knew they were coming this morning. The beeping of the Dumpster delivery would have cued her in to that fact. Was she okay? Or maybe still sick.
“I’ll be up in a minute.”
Luke grinned. “Take your time.”
Matthew ignored the knowing expression on his brother’s face and tried the back door. It opened easily. Unlocked. But then it was nine in the morning and Annie had probably left the door open after she’d moved her car before they arrived. No need to get riled up. Yet.
He poked his head into the laundry room. “Annie?”
No answer.
He stepped into the small kitchen. It smelled like cinnamon. She put that spice in a lot of the dishes she made including her tea. Jack used to complain about Annie nagging him to eat weird stuff like sprouts and tofu sausage. She was something of a health-food nut and nearly vegetarian to boot. She ate fish, though. Annie loved grilled fish whenever he and Jack brought home a load of perch caught ice fishing during the shipping off-season.
“Annie?”
“Hmm?” Her muffled voice sounded from the living room.
“You feeling okay?” He walked softly toward her.
She was curled up on the sofa, sleeping under a knitted afghan. Her thick hair lay in a mass of dark blond waves on the throw pillow. It glimmered like gold, caught in a beam of sunlight streaming through the windows.
He slammed his hands in his pockets to keep from threading his fingers through all that hair.
Surely, she hadn’t slept there all night. Then he noticed the laptop on the floor, lid up but screen dark. And a mess of invoices lay stacked next to it. He recognized the double-M logo of her dance studio, Marshall Movement. She must have been working and had fallen asleep—but it was now nine in the morning. Was she not sleeping well at night?
Quietly, he returned to the backyard. Up the ladder, he joined his brother on the roof.
“Everything okay?” Luke handed him one of the garden forks.
“I don’t know.” Matthew slipped on his work gloves and started tearing off old shingles. They tossed them in the rented Dumpster as they went. “She’s sleeping.”
Luke’s eyes widened. “You went upstairs?”
“She was on the couch.” Matthew tried to shrug off his concern, but it stayed close and pestered.
Annie could take care of herself. He knew that. But was she? He’d never known her to look so pale and weak. Was that due to morning sickness, or was grief dragging her down, too? Matthew aimed to find out and help where he could.
* * *
“Lunch is here,” Annie yelled up the ladder, squinting in the bright sunshine.
Matthew’s head popped into view. “Lunch?”
“Pizza. I had it delivered.” Annie felt pretty good considering her morning was officially shot. She had woken up at seven, fallen back asleep and now it was noon. Her first dance class wasn’t until two this afternoon, so she had time to get a few things done before she left.
The guys climbed down the ladder, washed up at the laundry room sink, then joined her on the back deck.
“Thanks.” Luke popped the lid of the pizza box and dug in.
Matthew poured a cup of pop from the two-liter.
“There’s water in the cooler, too. Help yourself. It’s supposed to be hot today.” Annie grabbed a water bottle and sat down under the market umbrella that shaded her deck table and chair set. She had to eat something, so a handful of crackers and some plain Greek yogurt would have to do. She hoped.
“Aren’t you going to join us?” Matthew pulled two slices of steaming pepperoni-and-cheese onto a paper plate and sat next to her.
She wrinkled her nose at the smell of grease. “Not sure I can do pizza even picking off the meat.”
He gave her meager lunch a long look. “Did you eat this morning?”
Annie wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I had a little something.”
“What?”