A Baby and a Betrothal (4 page)

“Don't.” She held up one hand. “We've been friends too long for you to lie to me. It was one night and it was good.”

One of his brows shot up.

“Great,” she amended. “It was great and probably just what I needed to bolster my confidence.”

“Your confidence?”

“My confidence,” she repeated, suddenly seeing how to smooth over what had happened between them without admitting her true feelings. “It had been...a while since I'd been with a man. Truthfully, I was kind of nervous about how things would go...in the bedroom.” She forced a bright smile. “But now I feel much better.”

“Are you saying I was a rehearsal?”

“For the real thing.” She nodded. “Exactly.”

“That didn't seem real to you?” His gaze had gone steely, but Katie didn't let that stop her.

“What's real to me is wanting a husband and a family.” She bit down on her lip. “Great sex isn't enough.”

“And that's all I'm good for?”

“You don't want anything else.” She fisted her hands, digging her fingernails into the fleshy part of her palms. “Right?”

He didn't answer, just continued to stare. So many emotions flashed through his gaze.

“This is a difficult time for you. I went to see your mom yesterday.”

“I talked to her on the way here,” he answered on a tired breath. His shoulders slumped as if he carried a huge weight on them. “She told me.”

“She's worried about you and Emily. About the toll this will take on both of you.”

Noah scrubbed one hand over his face. “Did you meet Emily's son?”

“Davey?” Katie nodded. “I did.”

“Then you know Em's got her hands full.”

“You both will after tomorrow.”

“We'll get through it. I'm sorry, Katie,” he said again. “Disappointing the people I care about is something I can't seem to help.”

“I'm fine. Really.” She stepped around the counter. “I need to get back out front. There will be enough talk as it is.”

“Mom's cooking lasagna tonight. She insisted on a family dinner before her surgery.” He lifted his hand as if to touch her then dropped it again. “Would you join us? She thinks of you as part of the family.”

“I can't.” She offered a small smile. “I have a date tonight.”

She saw him stiffen, but he returned her smile. “You really do deserve a good guy.” He shut his eyes for a moment, and when he opened them again his mask was firmly back in place. This was the Noah he showed to the outside world, the guy Katie didn't particularly like—all backslapping and fake laughter.

As if on cue, he gently chucked her shoulder. “If this one gives you any trouble, he'll have to deal with me.” He turned and walked out to the front of her shop, leaving her alone in the kitchen that had been her second home since she was a girl.

Katie stood there for several minutes, trying to regain her composure. She was too old for girlish fantasies. She'd held tight to her secret crush on Noah for years, and it had got her nowhere except alone. She
did
deserve a good man, and no matter how much she wanted to believe Noah could be that man, he clearly wasn't interested.

It was time she moved on with her life.

Chapter Four

“D
o you want another glass of milk?” Noah's mother was halfway out of her chair before she'd finished the question. “More salad?”

“Mom, sit down.” Noah leaned back in his chair, trying to tamp down the restlessness that had been clawing at him since he'd moved his duffel bag into his old room at the top of the stairs. “You shouldn't have gone to so much trouble, especially the night before your surgery. You need to rest.”

His mother waved away his concerns. “I'll have plenty of time to rest during my recovery. I want to take care of the two of you...” His mom's voice broke off as she swiped at her eyes. “To thank you for putting your lives on hold for me. I'm so sorry to put this burden on either of you.”

A roaring pain filled Noah's chest. His mother, Meg Crawford, was the strongest person he knew. She'd been the foundation of his family for Noah's whole life. Her love and devotion to Noah's late father, Jacob, was the stuff of legend around town. She'd been at her husband's side through the diagnosis of pancreatic cancer and for the next year as they'd tried every available treatment until the disease finally claimed him. She'd been the best example of how to care for someone Noah could have asked for. As difficult as it was to be back in this house, he owed his mother so much more than he could ever repay in one summer.

He glanced at his sister, whose gaze remained fixed on the young boy sitting quietly next to her at the table. Something had been going on with Emily since she'd returned to Crimson with her son. Normally she would have rushed in to assure their mother that everything was going to be fine. That was Em's role. She was the upbeat, positive Crawford, but there was a change in her that Noah didn't understand.

He cleared his throat. “We want to be here, Mom. It's no trouble.
You
are no trouble.” That sounded lame but it was the best he could do without breaking down and crying like a baby. The surgeon had reassured them of the outcome of tomorrow's surgery, but so many things could go wrong. “It's all going to be fine,” he said, forcing a smile as he spoke the words. “Right, Em?”

Emily started as if he'd pinched her under the table, a trick he'd perfected at family dinners and during Sunday church services when they were growing up. She focused her gaze, her eyes the same blue color their father's had been, first on Noah then on her mother. “Of course. You're going to get through this, Mom. We're all going to get through it together. And we're happy to spend a summer in Colorado. Henry's family will be in Nantucket by now. The beach is great, except for all that sand. Right, Davey?” She ruffled her son's hair then drew back quickly as he pulled away.

“Can I play now, Mommy?” Davey, Emily's four-year-old son, stared at his plate. He looked like his father, Noah thought. He'd only met his brother-in-law, Henry Whitaker, the weekend of Emily's wedding in Boston four years ago, but he knew Davey got his thick dark hair from his father. The boy's eyes, however, were just like Emily's. And his smile... Come to think of it, Noah hadn't seen Davey smile once since they'd arrived in Colorado.

Emily's own smile was brittle as she answered, “You've barely touched your meatballs, sweetie. Grandma made them from scratch.”

“Don't like meatballs,” Davey mumbled, his dark eyes shifting to Noah's mom then back to his plate. He sucked the collar of his T-shirt into his mouth before Emily tugged it down again.

“Not everyone likes meatballs,” Meg told him gently. Noah couldn't think of one person who didn't like his mother's homemade meatballs and sauce but didn't bother mentioning that. “I think it would be fine if you went to play, Davey. If you're hungry later, I'll make you a bowl of cereal or a cheese sandwich.”

Before Emily could object, the boy scrambled off his chair and out of the room.

“He can't live on only cereal, cheese and bread,” Emily said with a weary sigh. She picked up the uneaten spaghetti and passed it to Noah. “No sense in this going to waste.”

Noah wasn't going to argue.

“When you were a girl, there was a month where you ate nothing but chicken nuggets and grapes. Kids go through stages, Emily.”

“It's not a stage, Mom, and you know it. You know—”

Noah paused, the fork almost to his mouth, as Emily looked at him then clamped shut her mouth. “What does she know?” He put the fork on the plate and pushed away the food. “What the hell am I missing here? Is Davey homesick?”

Emily gave a choked laugh. “No.”

“Then what gives?” Noah shook his head. “I haven't seen you since last summer but he's changed. At least from what I remember. Is everything okay with you and Henry?”

“Nothing is okay, Noah.”

Emily's face was like glass, placid and expressionless. Dread uncurled in Noah's gut. His sister was always animated. Whatever had caused her to adopt this artificial serenity must be bad.

“Davey started having developmental delays in the past year—sensory difficulties, trouble socializing and some verbal issues.” Meg reached out for Emily's hand but she shook off their mother's touch, much like her son had done to her minutes earlier. “I wanted to get him into a doctor, figure out exactly what's going on and start helping him. Early intervention is essential if we're dealing with...well, with whatever it is. But Henry forbade it.”

Noah took a deep breath and asked, “Why?” He was pretty sure he wouldn't like the answer.

Emily folded the napkin Davey had left on his seat. “He said Davey was acting out on purpose. He started punishing him, yelling at him constantly and trying to force him to be...like other kids.” She shook her head. “But he's not, Noah. You can see that, right?” Her tone became desperate, as if it was essential that he understand her son.

“I can see that you love Davey, Em. You're a great mother. But where does that leave your marriage? You also loved Henry, didn't you?”

“I don't know how I feel,” Emily said. “You have no idea what would have happened if I'd stayed. Henry is going to run for Congress next year. The Whitakers are like the Kennedys without the sex scandals. They're perfect and they expect perfection from everyone around them. Davey was... Henry couldn't handle the changes in him. I had to get him away from there. To protect him. Our divorce was finalized a month ago.”

“Why haven't you come home before now?” Noah looked at his mother. “Did you know?”

Meg shook her head. “Not until a few weeks ago.”

“And neither one of you had the inclination to tell me?”

The two women he cared about most in the world shared a guilty look. “We knew you had a lot going on, that it was going to be difficult for you to stay here for the summer,” his mom answered after a moment. “Neither of us wanted to add any more stress to your life. We were trying to protect you, Noah.”

He shot up from the table at those words and paced to the kitchen counter, gripping the cool granite until his fingertips went numb. “I'm supposed to protect you,” he said quietly. He turned and looked first at his mom then his little sister. “Dad told me to take care of you both.”

“Noah.” His mother's tone was so tender it just about brought him to his knees. “Your father didn't mean—”

He cut her off with a wave of his hand. “Don't tell me what he meant. He said the words to
me
.” It was the last conversation he'd had with his father and he remembered everything about it in vivid detail. Hospice workers were helping to care for his dad in the house and a hospital bed had been set up in the main-floor office. His memories of those last days were the reason he'd spent so little time in his parents' house since then. Everything about this place, the smells, a shaft of light shining through the kitchen window, reminded him of his dad's death. He thought he'd hid his aversion to home with valid excuses—his work, travel, visiting friends. But it was clear now that Katie hadn't been the only one to understand his cowardice.

“I'm here,” he told them both. “Now and for the long haul. Don't hide anything from me. Don't try to
protect
me. I don't need it. If we're going to get through this it has to be together.”

His mom stood and walked toward him, her eyes never wavering from his. The urge to bolt was strong but he remained where he was, took her in his arms when she was close enough and held her tight. “Together,” she whispered.

He looked at his sister across the room. “Come on over,” he said, crooking a finger at her. “You know you want to.”

With a sound between a laugh and a sob, Emily ran across the room and Noah opened up his embrace to include her, too. He'd made a lot of mistakes in his life, but he was at least smart enough to try to learn from them. His first lesson was sticking when things got tough. Nothing like starting with the hard stuff.

“I want you to tell me more about Davey,” he said against Emily's honey-colored hair. “What he needs, how to help him.”

He felt her nod, and then her shoulders began to shake with unshed tears. His mother's crying was softer, but he heard that, too.

Noah tightened his hug on the two of them. “We can get through anything together,” he said, lifting his gaze to the ceiling and hoping that was true.

* * *

“I had a good time tonight.”

Katie glanced at the man sitting in the driver's seat next to her and smiled. “I did, too. Thank you for dinner.”

“It was smart to choose a restaurant outside of town. We got a little privacy that way. Everyone seems to know you around here.” Matt Davis, the assistant principal and swim-team coach at the local high school, returned her smile as he opened the SUV's door. “I'll walk you to your door.”

“You don't have to—” she began, but he was already out of the Explorer.

He was a nice guy, she thought, and their date had been fun—easy conversation and a few laughs. Matt was relatively new to Crimson. He was a California transplant and a rock-climbing buddy of her friend Olivia's husband, Logan Travers. It was Olivia who'd given Matt her number. He was cute in a boy-next-door kind of way, medium height and build with light brown hair and vivid green eyes. He'd been a semiprofessional athlete in his early twenties and had trained briefly at her father's facility near San Diego. Now he seemed safe and dependable, although he'd made a few jokes during dinner that made her think he didn't take life too seriously.

She liked him, a lot more than her carb-police date from Aspen last week. And if her stomach didn't swoop and dip the way it did when she looked at Noah, it was probably for the best. Katie didn't want head-over-heels passion. She was looking for a man she could build a life with, and although this was only a first date, Matt Davis had definite potential.

He opened her door and she stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of her house. Bonus points for being a gentleman. She'd left on the front porch light and stopped when they came to the bottom of the steps, just outside the golden glow cast by the Craftsman-inspired fixture. She could hear the sounds of her neighborhood, a dog barking in the distance and music playing from the rental house at the end of the block.

For a moment she debated inviting Matt in for a drink, not that she had any intention of taking this date too far, but it had been nice.
He
had been nice. Something stopped her, though, and she didn't dwell too long on the thought that Noah had been the last man in her house or why she might not want to let go of her memories of that night.

“Thank you again,” she said, holding out her hand. That was appropriate, right? Didn't want to give him the wrong impression of the kind of girl she was.

He shook it, amusement lighting his eyes. He really did have nice eyes. There was that word again.
Nice.
“I hope we can do it again sometime,” he said, still holding her hand.

A dog whined from nearby. A whine Katie recognized, and she went stiff, glancing over her shoulder toward the darkness that enveloped her house.

Misunderstanding her body language, Matt pulled away. “If you're not—”

“I'd love to,” she said on a rush of air. “See you again, that is.”

He brightened at her words, placed his hands gently on her shoulders. “I'll call you, then.” He leaned closer and Katie's eyes shut automatically then popped open again when the crash of a garbage can reverberated from her side yard.

Matt jumped back, releasing her once more.

“Probably just a bear,” she said, her eyes narrowing at the darkness. “They can be
annoying
sometimes.” Her voice pitched louder on the word
annoying
.

“Do you want me to take a look?” Matt asked at the same time he stepped back. It took a while to get used to the wildlife that meandered into mountain towns, especially for those who'd moved to Colorado from the city. Besides, Katie had no intention of allowing him to discover exactly what—or who—was lurking in her side yard.

“It's fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I keep the regular can in the garage. There's nothing he can mess with over there. I'd better go in, though. Early morning at the bakery.”

Matt kept his wary gaze on the side of her house. “I had a great time, Katie. I'll call you soon. You should get in the house.” He flashed a smile but waited for her to climb the steps before turning to his Explorer.

Katie waved as he drove away. She stood there a minute longer until his taillights disappeared around the corner. Blowing out a frustrated breath, she tapped one foot against the wood planks of the porch. “You can come out now,” she called into the darkness. A few seconds later, Tater trotted onto the porch, tail wagging. Katie bent and scratched the dog's ears. Tater immediately flipped onto her back.