Chances Are

by Wendy Lindstrom

  He nodded. “And fun.”

  “Very,” she said with a light laugh. “I felt like a school girl again, playing out in the snow. I haven’t felt that youthful exuberance in a long time.” She sighed and sat back in her chair. “I suppose I should be a little ashamed of myself, acting like a foolish girl in front of my grandchildren, but I’m rather proud of myself for daring to get on that sled with you.”

  “You should be proud. You showed your family that you’re never too old to play. I think you might have reminded yourself of that fact as well.” Had that thrilling ride down the hill had opened her eyes to the fact that there was still a lot of living ahead of her—and that she could live the rest of her life with a partner at her side?

  “I think you’re right, Dawson. My life hasn’t been the same since I met you. Your companionship makes me feel young again. I enjoy engaging in witty and even somewhat naughty banter with you. I freely admit that the idea of spending each day with you is enticing. You’ve opened up my eyes, and my heart, to possibilities I’ve never before considered.” She met his eyes, her own shadowed. “I feel so guilty even considering your proposal, but I am, Dawson. Just know that, all right?”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Um… I thought we weren’t allowed to discuss this today.”

  She smiled.

  He winked and finished his last bite of chicken.

  “This is so nice,” she whispered. She wiped her mouth with her napkin and lay it beside her plate.

  Dawson watched her, intrigued by her gestures and her intelligent, witty comments as they finished their wine. She smiled at him and his heart leapt. She had a gorgeous smile that revealed pretty teeth, and he found himself eagerly anticipating each word that rolled off her pink lips.

  “I’m going to refill my glass,” he said, getting to his feet, hoping the wine would dull the ache in his head. “May I refill yours for you?”

  “Why not?” she said with a bit of bravado. “I’ll clear the dishes while you fetch the wine. Bring the bottle in.”

  He laughed and helped her carry the dishes to the kitchen. He filled their glasses and then returned to the parlor. Dawson slid the chairs back into place and moved the card table aside so they could enjoy the fire. Before Nancy could claim a chair, he caught her hand and led her to the sofa. “Let’s pretend we’re sitting on the porch swing listening to Crane River.”

  “Sounds like a lovely idea.”

  When she sat, he immediately pulled her closer. “The swing was just big enough for two, remember?” he asked. “We sat shoulder-to-shoulder, not at opposite ends of a mile-long sofa.”

  Smiling, she said, “I guess I’m out of practice. It’s been months since I sat on that swing.”

  “I know, and that swing is lonely.”

  “I suspect Adam and Rebecca are using it every day,” she insisted.

  “All right then, I’m missing you and the swing. I had a new one installed on my porch, but I’m not using it until I can sit there with you.”

  With his arm around Nancy’s shoulder, he snuggled her against him, bringing her close to his side. “I hope that was a sigh of contentment and not one of annoyance,” he said.

  “It was,” she assured him, but he heard a bit of melancholy in her voice. “Have you ever been in love, Dawson?” she asked.

  “Once.” He didn’t even have to think about it. He knew Nancy was his only love, that he’d never before experienced what he felt for Nancy.

  “I’m glad,” she said softly, apparently mistaking his comment to mean he’d once loved another woman. “It’s something very beautiful, isn’t it?”

  He tilted her chin up so their eyes met. “I know how beautiful love is every time I look at you.”

  “Oh…” She gazed at him, her eyes filled with longing and heartache as if gazing at something she deeply desired but couldn’t have.

  But she could have him.

  All she had to do was say yes.

  “I’ve only ever loved you, Nancy.”

  He kissed her then, deeply and passionately. Mostly because he couldn’t help himself, but also because he was afraid she’d get lost in the unasked questions he saw in her eyes. “Stop thinking,” he whispered against her lips. “Imagine we’re drifting down the moonlit river in our little rowboat.”

  She leaned into his arms with a soft groan, as if she could no longer stop herself. He was there to catch her, to draw her into the safe keeping of his love. And so, like the currents on the river, their passion carried them away.

  He felt her arms tighten around his neck as she turned more fully into his embrace. He ran his hands up her slender back and into her hair, feeling the silky strands twisted into the chignon at the nape of her neck. The warmth of her body against his shook him. He’d had no idea how adrift he’d been until this petite lady had swept into his life like a gust of wind and tangled herself in his sails.

  Together they could sail through their remaining days.

  Lost in the kiss… in the moment… in the thought of spending his life with Nancy, Dawson didn’t hear anything but his own heartbeat until a sudden gasp startled them apart.

  Nancy flew out of his arms, her hand covering her mouth as they turned to find Adam and Rebecca standing in the doorway with a mixture of apology and surprise on their faces.

  A hint of a smile tipped Rebecca’s mouth. “Grandma, we… um… we’re so sorry. We didn’t know… that is… we thought it would be all right to come home a little early.”

  Dawson watched as color crept up Nancy’s face in embarrassment, but she appeared too flustered to say anything.

  Rebecca and Adam exchanged a look that had them both fighting a smile. “It appears we’ve accidentally stumbled upon your little secret.”

  Dawson heard Adam chuckle and had to fight to keep a grin off his face.

  “Darling, I don’t think it’s much of a secret since the rest of the family already knows about Grandma and Dawson,” Adam said. “Come on, let’s go to bed and let these two enjoy the rest of their evening.”

  With those words, Adam and Rebecca headed to their room.

  Nancy stood up, but Dawson caught her hand. “This is nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said gently.

  “I’m not embarrassed. I’m just… I’m not ready to answer questions about us,” she said, and she rushed from the room.

  As she closed her bedroom door behind her, Dawson sank back into the sofa and propped his feet up on the table. He leaned his aching head back on his hands, and although his headache was becoming a monster, he couldn’t stop grinning. The cat was finally out of the bag. There could be no misconstruing that passionate kiss as friendship. And now he knew beyond doubt that Nancy desired him in return. He just had to convince her to trust her feelings and allow herself to claim a little something for herself.

  Chapter Twelve

  December 27, 1890

  Nancy sat at her dressing table brushing her hair and gazing in the mirror. She was aging well despite the hardships in her life. Still, the fact was she was a grandmother with a large family continued to pull her back to reality each time Dawson rowed her out to sea.

  Was it simple vanity causing her to break her vows to Hal? Was it loneliness or mere female vanity that made her yearn for Dawson’s manly affection? Whatever the cause, she had surely lost her good sense—and her moral compass. She had made vows—lifelong vows—to Hal, and she was walking all over them as if they were lines in an old newspaper she set her muddy boots upon.

  Her behavior with Dawson made her ache inside.

  She couldn’t deny her feelings for him. Dawson was a handsome, charming, wonderful man she was deeply attracted to. It wasn’t that she was embarrassed to be caught kissing him. It was that it broke her heart to know she was betraying Hal… and in front of his own grandchild.

  What was she doing?

  Her bedroom door swung open, startling her. She turned, expecting to see Rebecca, but it was Dawson entering her room with a pronounced limp
and badly mussed hair. His eyes were wild, as if he didn’t know where he was, and yet he headed straight for her.

  “Dawson, what are you doing in here?” she asked, shocked by his bold entrance.

  “Why do you keep running away from me?”

  “What?” She laid her brush on the dressing table. “What’s going on?”

  “Why do you keep running away from me?”

  “Dawson, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He grimaced and rubbed his temples. “My head hurts.”

  She could see that his hands were shaking and that his balance was precarious. Leaping to her feet, she hurried to his side and guided him to her bed. “Sit down before you fall over.”

  Although his eyes searched the room as if he were trying to figure out where he was, he obeyed and sat on the bed.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked.

  “I just want to talk to you. I won’t hurt you.”

  “I know that,” she said, perplexed by his odd comments. “What do you want to talk about?”

  He dropped his head into his hands and clenched his fingers in his hair. “I can’t talk now. My head hurts.”

  The whole situation was so strange that Nancy wasn’t sure what to do. “Let’s go to the kitchen and I’ll make you some willow bark tea,” she suggested.

  But he wasn’t listening. He was rocking on the edge of her bed, gripping his head and panting.

  “Oh, Dawson… I didn’t realize you suffered like this.” His pain broke her heart. “Let me help you,” she whispered. She stood in front of him and drew him against her. He was too deep in pain to resist. And so she stood there holding him and rubbing his neck and the back of his head.

  He moaned deep in his throat.

  She froze. “Am I making it worse?” she asked.

  “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

  His whispered plea melted her. “You should have let me know you were hurting,” she said, softly stroking her hands over his head, neck and shoulders.

  He didn’t respond. He simply trembled.

  For several minutes she stood silently massaging his head and neck, feeling him relax by degrees until his ragged breathing slowed and deepened. And then she felt the change in him. Slowly, she felt his body tense as he drew himself up and away from her. As she looked down, he looked up, his eyes filled with surprise and… shock.

  “What are you doing in my room?” he asked. “Did I wake you?”

  And that’s when Nancy realized the truth about Dawson. This is what he was talking about when he said he still experienced episodes of confusion. He had no idea that he was in her room sitting on her bed. Pity welled up inside her and she cupped his jaw. “We’re in my room, darling.”

  His eyebrows lifted and his gaze shot around the room. With a groan, he dropped his forehead into his palm. “I’m so sorry, Nancy. I can only presume that I barged in here uninvited.”

  “It’s all right.”

  With a hard sigh, he pushed to his feet and stood unsteadily beside her. “Sometimes my headache is so excruciating that my thoughts get jumbled. I have blackouts and experience confusion. I don’t get this way often, but it still happens. It was grossly inappropriate barging into your bedroom, but please know that I didn’t realize what I was doing. The last I recall I was in the bathroom searching for anything that might alleviate the pain. I apparently chose to return to the wrong room. I’ll leave you alone now.”

  “Nonsense,” she said, slipping her arm through his. “You’ll sit in the parlor and relax while I fix you a cup of willow bark tea. I’m sure neither of us want that headache to return.”

  “It’s still lingering, so I’d be grateful for the tea,” he said.

  There wasn’t anything more she could say, and so she guided him to a chair in the parlor and left him to settle down while she went to make tea. When she returned ten minutes later, he was staring at the mound of glowing orange coals in the fireplace.

  “I’ll have more episodes, you know,” he said quietly without looking up.

  “I assumed as much,” she said, passing a cup of steaming willow bark tea to him. She sat in the other wing chair, her own cup of black tea in hand.

  “Sometimes my headaches are worse than the one tonight. And sometimes I wake up in places without remembering how I got there. It doesn’t happen often anymore, but it does happen.” He shifted his dark gaze to her. “You need to know that, Nancy. I’m not sure if I’ll ever fully recover from my accident.”

  “I understand,” she whispered, not because it scared her but because her heart was breaking for him. To see this powerful, strong man vulnerable to such physical and emotional pain filled her with tenderness. “I really do.”

  He nodded. “Will this tea really work?” he asked, gazing at the cup clasped between his palms.

  “Yes. But if you need me to rub your head and shoulders again, I can do so. Or perhaps a hot corn bag on your neck will relieve the pain.”

  He cast a half-smile at her. “I’ll be all right. It’s already letting up. Thank you.”

  “Good. I was pretty worried about you.”

  He sipped from his cup. “I’m surprised you didn’t boot me out of your bedroom. I thought maybe you were upset with me for kissing you in the parlor.”

  “I enjoyed the kiss. I did not, however, enjoy having Adam and Rebecca walk in on us.”

  He chuckled. “That was a bit awkward.”

  She smiled. “To say the least.”

  “Probably saved me from crossing a line though.” As he drank his tea, his gaze swept over her with intense appreciation. “You are so beautiful I find it impossible to resist you. When you’re in my arms, I want so much more than to kiss you.”

  Nancy groaned and placed her palms over her ears. “Gracious, Dawson, don’t even say these things. I can’t talk about this with you.”

  “If you marry me, Nancy, we’ll do more than talk about it.”

  Her hands fell to her sides and their gazes locked. “I know everything we’ll do and it’s so tempting I can’t even allow myself to think about it.” With that, she shot to her feet and rushed to her room.

  Nancy lay in her bed, watching the dark sky turn light with the first rays of sunrise. She’d stared at the ceiling most of the night, unable to sleep, worried about Dawson, ridiculing herself for her actions and thinking about his last comment. She shouldn’t have kissed Dawson last night. But she’d been caught up in their game of pretending that they were back in Crane Landing during her holiday away from her real life. When they had talked about her life and how time seemed to be passing by, she was just swept up in the moment and the feel of Dawson holding her. She’d simply let her feelings lead the way. In Dawson’s arms she was a woman again, and that was something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

  She couldn’t lie to herself any longer – she couldn’t resist Dawson and his charming, playful self.

  The sky lightened and she knew she couldn’t spend her day holed up in her room. She dragged her tired body out of bed, washed up in the bathroom, and the returned to her room and pulled a day dress out of her closet. After dressing, she ran a brush through her hair and braided it, tucking the braid up in a chignon at the base of her head. Exhaling a deep breath, she opened the door, knowing she must face the day whether she wanted to or not.

  The kitchen was empty when she entered, and for that small gift she gave silent thanks. She couldn’t manage breakfast with Dawson at her side this morning. Not after what they had shared the night before. And not after being caught by her grandchildren. Gracious sakes. Her face burned at the thought.

  As she went about making breakfast, Adam, Rebecca entered the kitchen. As they did each morning, they greeted her with a quick kiss to her cheek.

  “I’m famished,” Rebecca said. “What can I do to help?”

  Nancy smiled, remembering many a morning when she awoke famished while she was pregnant. “Put some plates and silverware on the table an
d we’ll be ready to eat.”

  Dawson entered the kitchen and greeted everyone with a grin. “Hope I didn’t miss breakfast,” he said.

  “Just in time,” Adam said, waving him to the table.

  Dawson glanced at Nancy. “Need any help?”

  “I’ve got everything ready,” she said, barely sparing him a glance. She simply couldn’t look at him without her face burning.

  She carried two serving plates heaped full of pancakes and ham and scrambled eggs to the table. She took her usual seat, and attempted to have a normal breakfast. But Adam and Rebecca were trading secretive glances and smiles over their breakfast, and Nancy knew they were thinking about the kiss they’d witnessed last night. Dawson was eating breakfast like nothing had changed. How did men do that?

  Was it just an act?

  Perhaps he felt the same turmoil that she did. But as she observed him, Dawson appeared relaxed. He spoke easily with Adam and Rebecca and included Nancy in the conversation, giving no sign that being caught kissing her the night before bothered him in the least.

  “So, what’s left to be done before my parents’ ceremony tonight?” Rebecca asked.

  Nancy was so pleased that Radford and Evelyn had chosen to renew their wedding vows for their twentieth anniversary. They would be celebrating the renewal at Boyd’s house this evening. “I think everything is done,” Nancy said. “We have nothing to do today but relax.”

  “I think I’ll head out to the mill with Adam,” Dawson said.

  “Good,” Nancy blurted in relief. “I mean… I know you’d rather be out with the men than trapped inside all day.” Heat rushed up her neck. She hadn’t meant to be rude. She just needed a short respite from Dawson’s tempting presence.

  “Well, I’m not completely sure about that…” Dawson winked. “But I suspect you could use a couple hours to yourself today.”

  “You’re more than welcome to relax in the parlor all day if you wish. I just thought you’d enjoy the fresh air and a bit of manly company,” she said.

  “Correct on both counts,” he said.