by Ann Evans
She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. There was nothing more she could say to him now. Better to give them both some breathing room for a while.
And yet the moment after he’d left the kitchen…
She couldn’t help it. Her mind turned to thoughts of Zack. Did she dare tell him how she felt? Soon he would be leaving, and the friendship she’d come to cherish, the companionship she had grown to depend on, the love she had carried in her heart for years—all of it might be lost forever.
If that happened, it would be her own fault. They’d admitted to each other that the sex was great, but as she’d already pointed out to Jeffrey, there had to be more than that. If she told Zack how she really felt, it would be mortifying to find out that those feelings weren’t reciprocated. He was kind and caring, even protective of her, but that didn’t mean it went any deeper than that.
He had seemed so annoyed to find Jeffrey here. Perhaps she should talk to him about it, try to get a feel for what he really thought.
What a mess to be in.
IT TURNED OUT TO BE an awkward evening.
Zack didn’t show up for dinner, nor did he call to say he would be back late. Jeffrey returned on his motorcycle—now fixed—offering to take her on a ride around the mountains. He seemed surprised when she turned him down.
“Sorry,” she said. “I’m not quite over getting nauseated every so often.”
He gave her an odd look.
“What?” she asked.
“Life is really different for you now, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But I’m not sorry about it.”
Jeffrey was smart enough to ask if he could sleep over instead of just assuming that he’d share her bed. Hoping Zack wouldn’t mind, Alaina put him in the third bedroom, and he made no complaint, though it was obvious that the room wasn’t hers.
She made dinner, a simple salad and trout almandine, a local favorite. Neither of them mentioned the subject of marriage, and Jeffrey seemed subdued and disinclined to ask her questions about the baby. Was that a sign, she wondered, of how shallow his interest in the child really was? Or simply that he felt awkward discussing her pregnancy?
After dinner they watched television for a while, a few silent, dull hours that began to feel like enforced companionship. As soon as it was reasonable, Alaina indicated she was tired and ready for bed. After showing Jeffrey where to find towels and extra pillows, she escaped toward her bedroom.
He caught her door before she could close it. “Alaina…”
“I’m really tired, Jeff,” she said quickly. “Let’s talk tomorrow.”
He might have objected, or reached for her to give her a good-night kiss, but she shut the door before he could do either.
He didn’t stay up much later. She heard him moving around in the room next door, the sound of water running through the pipes, an occasional cough. Soon even those sounds faded into the night.
If Zack came in sometime later, she never heard him, no creak on the stairs, no softly closing doors. It was as though he’d already left the house for good. She stared up at the ceiling, listening for the clues she’d grown so used to. Sounds that never came.
Eventually the house settled down, and she lay awake in the dark, feeling alone. More alone than she ever had in her life.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
ALAINA AWOKE WITH A START, certain that she’d felt the baby kick. She didn’t suppose it was possible this early in her pregnancy, but she couldn’t resist placing her hand against her stomach, eager to find if it would happen again.
“Come on, kiddo. Let me know you’re there.”
He didn’t.
She checked the bedside clock. Nearly 2:00 a.m.
With a sigh she rose and slipped into her robe. She went down the stairs lightly, hoping there was enough milk in the fridge for a drink. Her throat felt bone dry and almost sore, as though she might be catching something.
The milk was icy cold and hit the spot. She drank half the glass over the sink, watching a full moon play games on the dark lake. It was so beautiful tonight. No doubt about it, she would miss this place once she left here.
She walked barefoot toward the living room, curious to see if Zack’s car sat in the driveway. Peeking through one of the blinds, she spotted it…and something else.
“Zack.”
Seated in one of the Adirondack chairs on the porch.
His name was a whisper on her lips, and almost without knowing it, she went to the front door. Was it completely foolish to want more time with him, to harbor any hope for them at all? Her chest ached with the knowledge she could no longer ignore. She recognized it for what it was, and let herself feel the power of it in her heart.
I love you, Zachary Davidson. I always have and I always will.
She opened the door carefully. The last thing she wanted was to wake Jeffrey and have him come downstairs.
Zack turned to look at her as she stepped outside. The moon made his features look almost ghostly, and the light winked off the bottle of beer he held loosely in one hand. He didn’t say anything. In fact, his features looked completely passive.
“When did you get back?” she asked softly.
“A few minutes ago.”
“What are you doing out here?”
He lifted his bottle. “Getting quietly drunk.”
“On one Miller Lite?”
“I’m hoping that’s all it will take.”
She didn’t have the nerve to ask him to explain that statement. There was no welcome in his voice, and as she came toward him, she saw that his face wasn’t nearly as passive as she’d thought. His features looked grim and set. She probably should have turned around and gone upstairs, but her brain didn’t seem to be listening to common sense these days. “Mind if I join you?”
“You usually do what you want, don’t you?”
That definitely didn’t sound good. But determined not to be chased off, Alaina lowered herself into the chair beside him, hugging the robe tighter around her body as she lifted her face to the sky. She caught the smell of wood smoke in the air, and the slight undercurrent of earthy pumpkin from the patch down the road. “It’s a nice night.”
“Uh-huh.”
So much for chitchat. Zack clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk. At least, not to her. She tucked her bare feet under her and took another sip of her milk, wondering where to go from here.
They lapsed into silence, but unlike most of their quiet times, there was nothing comfortable about it. She cleared her throat. “How did it go with Sheriff Moran?”
He nodded, but didn’t glance her way. “Good. I’m glad I went. Someday, when you’re not dealing with major, life-changing decisions, I’ll let you know how it turned out.”
Someday. When would that day come? Next week? Next year? Never? She tried to imagine what it would feel like—the loss of him. No easy companionship and shared laughter. Certainly no sudden, harsh aches for the feel of him in her arms. No curious mix of pleasure and anticipation just from the sound of his voice. The thought of never having that again was unbearable.
Her voice was a little smaller when she said, “When you came in this afternoon, you said you wanted to tell me something.”
“It’s not important. I was just going to let you know that I’m leaving a little sooner than I originally planned. I’ll be heading back to Miami first thing in the morning.”
The news made her pulse jump. “But I thought you were going to be here long enough to make sure everything got done. For the remodeling, I mean.”
“It’s taken care of,” he said nonchalantly. “I hired a contractor today. Now that Jeffrey’s here, you won’t be alone. So there’s no reason for me to stick around.” He did look over at her this time. “Is there?”
“No,” she replied, unwilling to have him think she couldn’t manage by herself. “I guess not. If you’re really eager to get back…”
“I am.”
How terrifying those two words were. It was a
battle to get past the unshed tears that were suddenly behind her eyes. Something tight and heavy seemed to blanket her.
“Do you want to talk about the fact that Jeffrey’s come back? It was quite a surprise.”
“Why?” Zack asked, glancing toward her. “He said you called him.”
“I mean, I’d just about given up thinking he would ever return. I was sort of adjusting to the idea of raising the baby by myself.”
“And now you don’t have to.”
She looked at him, hearing something new in his voice, something she couldn’t quite identify. “What makes you think that?”
“He said he’s come back to make things right. Wouldn’t that mean some sort of commitment?”
“He says he wants to be a father to the baby.”
“Good for him,” Zack said, in a jovial way that didn’t ring true to her. “Every kid ought to have a dad.”
“I agree. But it needs to be the right dad.”
“You don’t think Jeffrey fits the bill?”
She studied her glass intently, as though it held some magic potion. “Right now the most important thing isn’t what I want. It’s what’s best for the baby. My capacity for being wrong has reached sublime heights at times.”
“You’re a clever woman. Get him to make a bigger commitment.”
Her stomach heaved with dread. What was the likelihood that a man who had feelings for you would suggest you try to make another man deepen his relationship with you? None. “You mean marriage?” she asked, just so she could have time to think. “Some little house in the suburbs where the three of us could live happily ever after?”
“That’s usually what women want.”
His attitude hurt, and made her want to strike back in some small way. “As a matter of fact, he’s proposed.”
Zack raised his beer bottle. “Congratulations! At least he’s not the complete son of a bitch I thought he was.” He glanced at her again and scowled. “Why the frown? I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“He says he’s ready to settle down, to have a wife and raise a family. He’s being ridiculously accommodating.”
“But?”
“But he’s been fighting for a better environment since he was in college. If he wants to continue the life of a nomad, I suppose I could do that for a while, but I doubt if that’s the best situation for a child. And if he settles down, somehow I can’t envision him being content to come home and read about other people making a difference in the world.”
“There’s more than one way to help a noble cause than firsthand involvement.”
“I don’t know. You should see him when he’s in the middle of the fray. He loves it. He’s totally committed to whatever cause he’s fighting for.” She sighed, resting her cheek on her fist. “I’m just not willing to make any more mistakes. I can live with them, but I don’t want the baby to suffer because of my stupidity…. Really, Zack.” She raised her head, trying to find his eyes in the shadows. “If you were me, what would you do?”
He laughed harshly. “Uh-uh, there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to answer that question. This has to be your decision.”
“Since when did you become unwilling to give me advice?”
“Since I discovered that sometimes I’m an even bigger fool than you are.” He took a last swallow of beer and held the empty bottle up to the light. “Dead soldier. Time to call it a night. I want to get an early start.”
He stood, heading for the door.
“Zack…”
He turned back. Even in the dim light, his face was so dear to her. There were furrows in his lean cheeks she hadn’t noticed before, and stubble on his chin. He waited for her to speak.
“What’s my favorite movie?” she asked.
After one quick frown he said without hesitation, “Pride and Prejudice. Not the new one. The old version with Olivier. Why?”
He stared at her, expecting her to explain herself.
“Just wondered if you still remembered.” It was all she could manage.
“Good night,” he finally said.
This time when he turned away, she didn’t try to stop him. If there was any hope for them, why would he seem so eager to get back to Miami? He’d practically been encouraging her to give Jeffrey a chance. Why didn’t Zack tell her how he really felt?
She watched him go back inside, feeling nothing but gut-wrenching despair.
A FEW HOURS LATER, Alaina lay in bed and listened to the sound of Zack’s car pulling out of the driveway.
So that was it, then. No matter what her future held, it was possible he would not play a role in her life ever again. Maybe not even as a good friend she occasionally visited. In time, the weeks they had spent here would turn into half-remembered dreams. They would fade from her memory. She’d move on. Make a new life. That wasn’t such a bad future, was it?
No, of course not.
She just wished she could believe it.
Refusing to give in to self-pity, she slipped out of bed. Jeffrey was an early riser, but by the time he came downstairs, she was already waiting for him. His eyebrows rose questioningly.
She gave him a weak smile. “I think we have a lot to talk about, and we might as well get started.”
They sat down at the kitchen table. Foregoing any morning small talk, Alaina dug into the only topic that mattered—their future and the baby’s. At first, Jeffrey tried to persuade her once more that a life together was possible. His words were as rapid and sharp as gunfire, as though he’d spent the night rehearsing them. They could make a marriage work. He was ready to settle down. But nothing she heard made her truly believe it.
As she rose to get juice from the fridge, she told him, “I don’t know who you’re trying to convince more, Jeff. Me or you.”
Before he could reply, his cell phone rang. He spoke to Bill Vernon, a young activist who had joined them on several of their past missions. Bill was currently at another Dallas stockyard protest, trying to keep everyone focused and enthusiastic, but Alaina knew from experience that even though the man was dedicated, he was uninspiring. He couldn’t have persuaded a person to renew his or her library card. From the way Jeffrey responded, she knew Bill was having difficulty controlling things.
Even from Georgia Jeffrey had a better grasp of the situation. He rattled off suggestions, boosted Bill’s confidence. Jeffrey might be young, but he was a born negotiator and problem solver. It was one of the things Alaina had found attractive about him—that ability to organize quickly under pressure, without ever losing his cool.
As he closed his cell phone and gave her an apologetic smile, Alaina suddenly realized that it was time to be blunt.
“Can’t we just be honest with one another?” she asked him. “I don’t want to marry you, and I don’t think you want to marry me. Am I wrong?”
“Alaina…”
“No, Jeff,” she said sharply. “Be honest.”
After a long pause, he said, “No. I love my life the way it is. But I want to be fair to you and the baby, too. So what do we do now?”
It took nearly three hours of hard discussion, but they did it.
At ten-thirty she was still in the kitchen, wrapping the last of the sandwiches she had packed. She heard Jeffrey make another trip down the stairs, and turned, wiping her hands on a dish towel. He stood in the doorway, his backpack slung over one shoulder and a small duffel bag at his feet.
“I’m all set,” he said.
“Still traveling light as ever, I see.”
“Makes it easy to keep track of things.”
She scooped the paper bag off the counter and held it out to him. “I made sandwiches for the road. Your favorite.”
He opened the top for a sniff. Then he smiled at her. “Peanut butter and banana? God, you’re my angel.” His smile became a grin. “See? You do know me.”
“Only because I’ve heard you order it at every coffee shop we stopped at.”
“Ha! Like that did any good. But
one day, it’s gonna be as popular as a hamburger. You mark my words.” He stared down at his stuff, as though he’d run out of things to say. Now that real decisions had been made, Alaina was surprised to see how forlorn he seemed, like a little boy who wasn’t sure what his next move should be.
“So,” he said at last. “I guess this is it, then.”
“I guess it is.”
He grimaced. “It’s not too late to change our minds, is it?”
“No. But you know that neither of us wants to.”
Jeffrey dropped his pack and grasped her hips so he could look her in the eye. “I’m sorry, Alaina. I really would have tried my damnedest to make you happy. To be a good father.”
“I know you would have,” she assured him. “Everything you do, you do with such passion. I hope the baby inherits a little of your enthusiasm for life. I’d really like that.”
“I hope he gets his mother’s understanding.”
She smiled up at him. It was so much easier to talk now that they were no longer trying to fool one another or themselves. “I’ll let you know. Assuming you remember to let me know where you are from time to time.”
“I’ll stay in touch…sooner or later.”
“If I know you, it’ll be later.”
Together they walked out to the front drive. Jeffrey had wanted to get back to Dallas as quickly as possible. The Harley gleamed in the crisp morning sunlight. The ride would be pleasant in this weather, but she couldn’t honestly say she would miss hanging on to the back of the bike as he zipped down the highway.
After he stowed away his gear, she asked, “How far will you try to get today?”
“I hope I can ride straight through.”
“All the way back to Dallas? Why? Bill can manage until you get there, can’t he?”
“He’ll do what he can. But I’m really the one who knows the lay of the land on this one, so I’m eager to get back, just to make sure there are no slipups.”
She glimpsed the familiar excitement in his eyes and knew once again that they had come to the right decision.
She grasped the edges of his jacket, pulling them together in an almost maternal gesture. “Be careful,” she told him. “I don’t want to read the morning paper and find out you’ve been shot full of holes by some wild-eyed Texas rancher who thinks you ought to mind your own business.”