by Anna Adams
“You should date him.”
“No, she shouldn’t,” Van said. “What are you talking about, Eli?”
“I heard you. Mom wants to talk to him. It’s time you started dating again, and if he knows you, Uncle Van, he must have the bucks.”
“Eli.” Beth bent to clean up the salmon. It slipped out of her hands. “Date him? Where’s that coming from?” Two tries later, she scooped up the fish and dropped it into the sink.
“I told ya. You need money. He has it. We’d be okay if you went out with someone like that guy.”
“We have all the bucks we need, and that’s no reason to date anyone. I don’t understand you. For the past three years, any time a guy’s looked twice at me, you’ve been upset. When those men who stayed at the lodge left a big tip behind, you thought they were trying to come on to me.”
“That was before we found out they tore the mantel off the fireplace in their room.” A shrug made him look a decade older. “You need a life, Mom. I feel like a bug under your microscope, and I’m old enough to know you should be interested in guys. I don’t expect you and Dad to get back together anymore.”
“I’m the one who’s supposed to matchmake for you, Eli. You’re creeping me out.”
“Most divorced moms date. My friends’ moms do.”
“When the guy is right. And the time. I have to get us back into our own house.”
“You worry all the time.” He grabbed the plates and silver she’d stacked on the counter. “I’ll set the table.”
Stunned silence thickened in the kitchen as he rushed to the dining room. Beth turned to Van, still clutching the oily spatula. “That was too many firsts. I should date, I need a life and he’s setting the table without being asked.”
“He’s hiding something. He thinks by going after you, he can keep hiding it.” Van popped a tomato into his mouth and turned toward the dining room door. “Sucks to be Eli.”
“Wait.” She almost lost another piece of salmon. “What are you going to do?”
“Drill for the truth.”
“He’s been fragile since the fire.”
“Which is why I want to know why he’s trying to find you a man.” Van paused, his hand on the door. “He’s been sullen and aloof and he avoids us. None of that is like Eli.”
So she wasn’t the victim of single-parenting paranoia. “Okay, try, but don’t upset him.”
“He’s my nephew.”
She set down the spatula and urged him through the door. These days she couldn’t tell if Eli didn’t want to talk to her or just didn’t want to talk. They were both lucky Van would step in for Campbell, who grew less paternal as each day passed.
Her brother spoke first. Her son answered. She couldn’t tell what they were saying. She leaned on the counter, a knife in one hand, a tomato in the other, trying to hear.
If Van discovered anything earthshaking, he’d tell her. She finished the salmon, mixed greens, tomatoes, feta, almonds and vinaigrette into a salad and hurried into the dining room.
She stopped at the sight of Van and Eli, reading sections of the newspaper. No tantrum from Eli protesting his uncle’s nosiness. Nothing but normal.
Normal seemed off.
“Here we go.” Crossing behind her son, she lifted both eyebrows at Van, but he shook his head. She set the salad beside Eli and the salmon in the middle of the table. “It’s not much for lunch. I should have made rice or something.”
“This looks great,” Van said.
Eli grunted, which was more like him. Beth scooped up the newspaper and carried it to the kitchen when she went back for drinks. She poured a glass of milk for Eli and tea for Van and her.
Eli followed his usual method—eat, eat and eat some more, until even the salad vanished into distant memory. Then he ran for the front door. He spent every moment of each free day outside with Lucy.
“I forgot to tell him we have to work on the lodge today.”
“Leave him here.”
“He ought to help. It’s his house, too.”
“I know.” Van stretched to see through the elaborately draped windows. “But Lucy might do him more good than work. I couldn’t get anything out of him except what he told us both, but something’s wrong. I was sure he wanted you and Campbell back together.”
“Me, too.” She shuddered. “Don’t most children dream of reuniting their parents?”
“That bastard should have gone to jail. He still doesn’t pay child support half the time.”
“Shh.” She glanced toward the door, half expecting Eli to return.
“Beth, listen.” Van turned her away from the window.
“Yeah?”
“I have to leave for Chicago tonight. I hate to go during Eli’s spring break, especially when he’s acting strange.”
She wondered if his trip had something to do with his business troubles. “Van, can I just say one thing?”
He nodded, but his eyes didn’t fool her. He was worried. “You don’t have to protect us. I appreciate your help, but this isn’t like with Cassie.” Guilt had ruined his marriage, although they’d truly loved each other. “I’m going to be okay, and so is Eli.”
“You don’t have to assume everything that bothers me leads straight back to Cassie,” he said. “You and Eli are my family now.”
“It’d be more strange if he weren’t acting different. It hasn’t been that long since the divorce in child years, and then there was the fire and now he has to get along with standoffish kids at his new school. But please try not to worry. If you don’t stop taking care of us, you’ll never have time for a family of your own.”
“Maybe Eli’s right. You do need to date someone. Just don’t ask Aidan for help on the lodge.”
She wasn’t likely to forget seeing Aidan at the doctor’s office, enraged because he had to continue taking life easy. “You don’t have to worry about that.” He’d been wearing jeans and a black sweater that only made him seem longer and leaner. “Not that he makes a convincing invalid.”
The doorbell rang. Van glanced that way. “But look in on him once in a while, just in case. I’ll be away for a week.”
“A fine job for the angel of death,” she said, teasing. The bell rang again.
Van kept on stacking plates and silverware, cracking only a small smile at her jab. “I’ll do these since you cooked. You can answer the door.”
Not one who fought for a chance to wash up, Beth headed for the hall. She opened the front door to find Eli and Lucy facing Aidan Nikolas. Aidan had Lucy by the paw.
“Nice to meet you,” he was saying.
“Morning,” Beth said, hoping Eli wouldn’t notice her voice had dropped low. Forbidden, unattainable fruit tended to take a woman’s breath away.
“Hi.” Aidan let Lucy go and the dog positioned herself in front of Eli, the picture of canine good manners and protectiveness.
Beth would have preferred to see Eli and Lucy tumbling down the hill with several of his friends. “Come in,” she said. “Eli, you met Mr. Nikolas?”
“And I made Lucy shake hands with him.”
“Why don’t we invite a couple of your buddies over to play? I’m going to work on the lodge, but Uncle Van won’t mind, and when I get back we can barbecue.”
“No, thanks.”
He sounded cheerful, but he hadn’t asked to have friends over in weeks. He hadn’t visited his buddies in the old neighborhood, either. Before she could say anything else, he patted Lucy’s head and spun toward the steps.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Nikolas. See ya later, Mom.” He shot her an encouraging glance that included their guest.
Blushing, she prayed Aidan hadn’t seen. Eli had never been impressed with material things—other than a sweet skateboard and the latest cool game. He probably didn’t realize his father had come from money until he’d run through it and alienated his own parents.
“Is your brother at home?”
Aidan’s voice penetrated. She pried her gaze awa
y from Eli and Lucy. “Van’s inside. Come on in.”
She led him to the kitchen, where Van turned, dripping suds on the floor. “I’ll finish,” she said. “Mr. Nikolas—” calling him by his first name was surprisingly difficult “—Aidan wants to speak to you.”
“I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Aidan held out one hand. “I wanted to thank you in person, Van, for letting me use the cottage.”
“No problem.” Van dried off on a tea towel before he shook his friend’s hand and sent Beth a sharp look. She almost laughed after Eli’s brow-waggling performance. “Join us up here any time you want. Use the pool—it’s heated.”
“Thanks.” Aidan stopped, and even Beth felt him glance her way.
Van took a step forward, as if to snatch his attention by the throat. “Have you eaten? We still have some salmon.”
“No, thanks.”
Stiff silence fell. Beth fingered a spot of water off the counter.
“If you’re sure,” Van said. “Beth tells me you met the other night while she was running.”
“She didn’t tell you I was choking?”
“Were you?” She pretended to know nothing about his health.
“No, but you burst out of the shrubbery as if you were searching for someone to resuscitate.”
“I’ve recently updated my CPR certificate.” Beth tried to laugh off his embarrassment. She might not get men. She might not trust her own instincts where they were concerned, but she was determined to remain kind—even after Campbell. “I thought you might have been Lucy. Every so often she eats her fetch ball and we have to fish the pieces out of her mouth.”
“Oh.” For the third time in less than five minutes, a man slanted her a knowing glance. Then he turned to Van. “Maybe I will use the pool if you don’t mind.”
“Any time. Beth’s the only one who goes out there. Even Eli won’t use it without his friends, and I never seem to find the time.”
“Even though you should for your own good.” Beth stored the milk and butter in the fridge and wished she hadn’t mentioned health. Having seen the proof of his illness in the doctor’s office, she thought Aidan looked thin. His hollowed cheeks would only make him more beloved to the photographers, but here in the back of nowhere, they made a woman want to ply him with sandwiches.
“You must get some exercise at the—I believe you said you were rebuilding a fishing lodge?”
“Mmm-hmm. Wouldn’t you know it’d burn down when our busiest season is coming?”
“Did you find the magazines I left you?” Van interrupted.
Aidan nodded, but he searched the faces of both Van and Beth. Undercurrents would be one of his specialties.
“Good. And the television controls?”
“Van, I had a minor heart attack. I won’t be needing a home defibrillator or a babysitter.”
“Good news.” Van maneuvered him toward the kitchen door. “Let me show you the walking trails we’ve put in.”
“I found them.”
“Why don’t I bring down a couple of steaks for dinner one night?” Van “helped” him through the door, making pathetically sure not to include Beth. As if she’d pitch Aidan over dinner after she’d promised not to. “I’m traveling for the next week, but maybe the week after. Can you eat steak?” Van added.
“Sure.”
His short tone made Beth shake her head. She was still shaking it when Van came back.
“He seemed a little annoyed,” Van said.
“Can you blame him? You’re his friend, but you sounded as if you’d be putting his dinner through a food processor.”
“Why are you so defensive on his behalf?”
“I just realized he really was sick and doesn’t want to be. No matter what plans Eli has for him, I’m staying out of his way.”
BETH CLEANED her room and then slipped into Eli’s to tidy the obvious messes—shoes on the dresser, discarded Xbox games scattered in front of the TV and a plate laden with apple pie crumbs.
Then she changed into warmer clothes, tucking a sweatshirt under her arm in case the weather turned chilly. She peered through the pale pink voile over her bedroom windows. Clouds had begun to gather above Van’s verdant trees.
She grabbed her sneakers and ran down the stairs. Sitting on the last step, she was tying the laces when the doorbell rang. She hobbled over, one shoe on, one foot crushing a heel, and opened the door to find Aidan cradling Lucy—who was horrifyingly still—and bloody.
Groaning, she tried to gather the dog that was like her second child. Lucy didn’t move, but blood from her head smeared Beth’s shirt.
“Don’t,” Aidan said. “That’s going to scare Eli.”
“Where is he? Please, God, tell me he’s not lying out in the woods.”
“No, I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have told you I saw him come up here. Call him. He’ll want to go with us to the vet.”
“Eli.” She managed a whisper. She’d rather suffer anything than see her son hurt. Couldn’t she take Lucy to the vet and come home with reassuring news on her condition? “She is alive?”
“I think someone shot her with a pellet gun. Probably just a graze.” As if to back up his diagnosis, Lucy opened her eyes and scrambled for freedom with a whimper that made Beth reach for her again.
Aidan twisted away. “Get your son,” he said, his voice harsh with concern.
“Eli.” Beth turned toward the stairs. “Lucy’s hurt.” Great. The delicate approach. Way to destroy a boy. “I’ll find him.” She stopped halfway up the stairs. “I’m sorry to ask you this, but should you be carrying her?”
A mixture of annoyance and embarrassment chased across his face. “Will you hurry?” he asked, struggling to hold on to Lucy. “She wants down, and she doesn’t know me.”
On the way to Eli’s room, Beth grabbed a couple of beach towels out of the linen closet. She burst through his door, and he yanked out his earbuds.
“What?” he asked, as frightened as she must look.
“Lucy’s had an accident.” She held out her hands and willed herself to calm down. “Aidan found her. He thinks someone accidentally—hit—her with a pellet gun, but she’s going to be okay.”
He tore out of the room. She grabbed at his shirt. “Eli, she’s bleeding. Try not to be afraid.”
“Lucy.” He slid down a couple of steps. The dog whined from below. Beth scrambled past Eli on the stairs and this time he held her back. “She’s mine. I’ll help her.”
Beth had no intention of letting him take care of their poor, sweet girl on his own. She reached Aidan first.
“Let’s wrap her in these towels and you can sit with her on the back seat of my car, honey.” Using one of the towels, she wiped the dog’s forehead, revealing a gash that welled again. “Who the hell was shooting on your uncle’s property?” She pressed her cheek to Lucy’s ear. “Don’t worry, baby.”
The dog fought hard to reach Beth. Taking her out of Aidan’s arms, Beth let Eli help carry her, stumbling across loose gravel to the car.
He yanked the back door open. “Hurry, Mom.”
“Slide across the seat.” Together, they eased Lucy in. Beth arranged the towels on Eli’s lap, and Lucy laid her head on his thigh. He cuddled her the way Beth used to hold him when he was hurt.
She dug for her keys. Thank God she’d already tucked them into her pocket. She walked straight into Aidan’s chest, but he held her off, his hands big, unsettling on her shoulders. “You don’t have to come with us.” Slipping around him, she hurried to the driver’s seat.
“Are you kidding? I have to know if she’s all right.”
He jumped into the front passenger seat, and Beth hesitated only a moment. She didn’t want him to—but Lucy was hurt, and Eli’s empty stare in the mirror terrified Beth. She skidded backward through the gravel, but then straightened out to rocket down the driveway.
Aidan hooked his hand into the bar above his window.
“All right, Mom,” Eli said. “We’ll get
you to the doc in no time, Lucy.”
“Eli, why don’t you get my phone out of my purse and call Dr. Patrick?”
Gently settling Lucy, he leaned forward, but her bag wasn’t there. “Where is it?”
She could see it—on the kitchen counter. “At home.”
“Mom, your driver’s license.”
Lucy whined, but more as she did when she couldn’t get comfortable on her bed. Beth glanced at her and then back at the road. “You worry too much for one so young, Eli.”
“So will the cops,” Aidan said.
“You’re flying, Mom.”
“They can join the parade. Lucy’s our girl.”
“Yeah.” Eli sat back with satisfaction and rubbed his dog’s side. She whimpered again and Beth pressed harder on the gas.
She glanced at Aidan. “If you’ve brought your wallet, you can drive us back.”
IN THE VET’S OFFICE, Eli paced awhile, and then Beth wrapped him in one arm and persuaded him to sit. Her fear for him spread around the room in a soft cloud of panic. She tried to be brave and self-sufficient, but her son was her weak spot, and she couldn’t hide it.
Aidan stared at his lap. At his hands. Neither vain nor overly modest, he knew he was a capable man. Normally strong as a horse, he wouldn’t think twice about taking charge of a last-gasp company or a knock-down, drag-out brawl in one of the pubs where nobody knew his name.
But he hadn’t been wise or strong enough to save his wife, and he was tired of fighting grief and guilt.
Eli’s distress was familiar to him. It was like looking into a film of his own past.
How many times would he live it all again? His heart still thudded with the disbelief he’d felt as they’d told him about Madeline. Finally, he’d seen the letter they’d pushed into his open palm.
He scrubbed at his hand with the other.
She’d tried so long to tell him she was in trouble, but his idea of help—doctors, meds for her undeniable depression—had all been useless. He’d loved her. He’d held her while she’d cried, and he’d kept repeating he loved her. She’d sworn he didn’t even want to be with her.
He’d begged her to come along when he’d traveled, but she’d refused to leave their house.
