Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Falling for the Mom-to-Be

Falling for the Mom-to-Be
Jenna Mindel
The Widow's Surprise Baby When Annie Marshall discovers just weeks after her husband's death that she's carrying his baby, her sadness turns to hope. Scared of facing this all on her own, she reluctantly accepts the help of her husband's best friend, Matthew Zelinsky. The kiss they shared after the funeral was just two friends comforting each other–or so she tells herself. Yet spending time together makes them wonder if what they feel is more than friendship. When people in town start raising eyebrows and her business begins to suffer from the gossip, Annie must decide if loving Matthew is worth the risk.


The Widow’s Surprise Baby
When Annie Marshall discovers just weeks after her husband’s death that she’s carrying his baby, her sadness turns to hope. Scared of facing this all on her own, she reluctantly accepts the help of her husband’s best friend, Matthew Zelinsky. The kiss they shared after the funeral was just two friends comforting each other—or so she tells herself. Yet spending time together makes them wonder if what they feel is more than friendship. When people in town start raising eyebrows and her business begins to suffer from the gossip, Annie must decide if loving Matthew is worth the risk.
“You don’t have to worry about me, you know.”
“I know.” So why was he? Matthew thought about her a lot. Maybe too much. “But we both have to eat.”
She smiled. “I am hungry. Let me throw on a cover-up and we’ll go.”
“I’ll be right here.” He meant it, too. She could lean on him. “Always here for you. I hope you know that.”
This felt a lot like a date. Was he trying to date Annie Marshall? Surely, it was too soon to go there.
He glanced at the woman walking beside him. She was a few years older than him. Not that it mattered. Not to him. She’d always been beautiful.
Annie caught him staring. “What?”
“Nothing.” He really needed to cover this awkward awareness or they’d have an uncomfortable dinner together. “I was just picturing your feet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Real nice.”
It felt good to tease her. As if they were friends again and nothing had happened to change that. There was no reason to let one kiss change what they were. They were friends. He needed to remember that.
JENNA MINDEL lives in northwest Michigan with her husband and their three dogs. She enjoys a career in banking that has spanned over twenty-five years and several positions, but writing is her passion. A 2006 Romance Writers of America RITA® Award finalist, Jenna has answered her heart’s call to write inspirational romances set near the Great Lakes.
Falling for the
Mom-To-Be
Jenna Mindel


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Blessed are those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
—Matthew 5:4
A huge thank-you to Doug LaLonde
for answering my many questions about
freighters and shipping on the Great Lakes.
You guys are rock stars out there!
Contents
Cover (#uba0b1ccc-51ff-579a-ad20-07b033cda834)
Back Cover Text (#u64194b28-5da1-5307-bf06-42fc7820895c)
Introduction (#ubf813f24-0ec4-5336-ad51-06587f41eb43)
About the Author (#uf090cebd-0be0-5535-8b25-3db8250d0395)
Title Page (#ufd32c029-2fc8-581e-a9a4-4aa392c25bf3)
Bible Verse (#u0b24a1af-97bd-5920-96e5-20c9f78ffa0e)
Dedication (#u3ce06161-425c-5dae-9ed0-61d627a73fb1)
Prologue (#u127a1bd9-e901-58b0-bfde-39b4aad0b936)
Chapter One (#uc24acf9f-1599-5719-9fb1-c4f390a2cb3c)
Chapter Two (#u8379adcd-38c3-55dd-9419-17f9fa2657cc)
Chapter Three (#u00ffbeda-0c31-55b2-a2c3-8ae727249486)
Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ulink_3039bcea-2d59-5f11-ad1f-131203c80630)
March
Annie Marshall stood in the middle of the produce section of a big chain grocery store the next town over from her own. People passed by her without a nod or glance. They didn’t know her. And that was good. Too many knew her in Maple Springs. If she’d have gone to the corner IGA, she’d have been showered with words of sympathy and pitiful looks.
Tonight, she wasn’t in the mood.
Annie had broken free from her house that was shrouded with whispers and mourning and did something normal people do. She went grocery shopping. She wanted freedom from her sister and their aunt and their careless coddling. Freedom from their compulsive comfort given to compensate for the geographic and emotional distance between them.
Tonight, she was mad.
Mad at God for taking her husband of fifteen years with a sudden heart attack, out of the blue. Mad at her aunt and sister for treating her like spun glass, ready to break. Mad at Jack for not taking better care of himself.
He’d never come home again.
Jack...
Her throat tightened, so she closed her eyes and counted.
Annie always counted when on the edge of losing it. It had started when she was a kid because her mom refused to let her throw tantrums. It came in handy when she’d received word of her parents’ death while in college. Her sister, barely high-school-aged, went to live with their aunt. Life went on.
And Annie had been counting since Jack’s funeral. A week ago? It seemed like years.
She felt a touch to her shoulder and spun.
“Hey.” Matthew Zelinsky searched her face. His blue eyes were dark with concern. “What are you doing over here?”
Annie’s throat went dry. “Shopping. What about you?”
“Same.” He shrugged as he glanced at her empty cart save for a bunch of bananas. Jack had loved bananas.
Matthew placed his empty basket on the floor and then lifted her bundle of fruit and put it back on the shelf. He took her by the hand. “Come on.”
Annie didn’t argue. She followed him outside into the cold, damp night. Snow banks still loomed high in the parking lot but had melted some from the day’s rain. Dirt and silt covered their tops. Thin layers of ice shone in the overhead lights where puddles had been. The end of March wasn’t pretty in northern Michigan.
Her breath blew cold smoke in front of her. “I saw you at the funeral, but you were gone before I could even talk to you.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
He opened the passenger side of his pickup truck for her and she climbed in. The truck was big and loaded. Jack had gone with him at the end of January to pick it out. Off-season.
Matthew got in, started the engine and cranked up the heat.
She leaned back against the plush seats and sighed. “Nice truck. Do you like it?”
“Yeah, it’s great.” He turned toward her. “How are you?”
She shrugged, knowing she couldn’t put on a grand performance with Matthew. He knew her too well. “How am I supposed to be?”
“I don’t know.” He gave her a slanted smile. “If you figure it out, let me know.”
They sat in silence a moment. The only noise was the whirl of the heater. Matthew reached for her hand and she held on. There wasn’t anything either of them could say to make it better or worse. They both loved Jack. And now he was gone.
“I’m heading out in the morning.”
Annie felt another stab of loss.
Matthew was Jack’s best friend and first mate on a Great Lakes freighter where they’d worked together for years. Matthew had been the one to find Jack dead in his cabin after they’d been on the lakes only a week into the shipping season. Their freighter had loaded up at the calcite plant in Roger’s City around the time of Jack’s funeral, allowing some to attend.
Matthew had remained home a while longer, but his job wouldn’t wait forever. He had to go, catching ship at their next port.
“Have you got a new captain?” Her voice cracked on the last word. Jack’s title.
“An older guy, well experienced, has hired on for this season at least before retiring. So, we’ll see.”
Annie nodded. Maybe Matthew would move into Jack’s role in time. Jack had said he was ready.
Matthew flipped back the console between them and scooted over, gathering Annie into his arms. “I’m so sorry.”
She held him tight. “Me, too.”
He pulled back, his eyes watery and bright. “I let you down, Annie.”
“No, you didn’t.” She shook her head and cupped his dear face. Matthew was her friend, too. What could he have possibly done to change what had happened to Jack? “It’s only been a week, but I miss him.”
Matthew kneaded her shoulders. “I know.”
She welcomed the warmth of that rough massage. “Why did you leave right after the funeral?”
“I don’t know.” His voice softened. “I had to get away.”
Annie chuckled. She’d felt the same way. She would have bolted if she could have gotten away with it. But the whole town had been there. Many of Jack’s crew, too. And her mother-in-law would have tracked her down and dragged her back had she run.
“So, where’ve you been?” He hadn’t stopped by but once to drop off Jack’s things. She hadn’t been home at the time. Returning from a walk, she’d missed him.
He let his hands drop from her shoulders and shrugged, not looking at her. “I was in the UP for a few days.”
Annie nodded, wishing she could have escaped town for a while, too. A few times during the off-season, Jack had gone to the Upper Peninsula of Michigan to snowmobile with Matthew and his brothers. Jack had loved it. She patted Matthew’s jeans-clad knee. “Well, be careful driving to catch ship.”
He glanced at her hand and then studied her face. “I will.”
She searched his serious expression. Something had changed in him. Annie could feel it. Something had changed in her, too. She pulled her hand back.
Matthew looked at her mouth.
Her heart pounded in her ears as he leaned closer and brushed his lips over hers. Featherlight and hesitant. He rested his forehead against hers and sighed. “Annie...”
Maybe he waited for encouragement or a sign to stop, but she could give neither. Matthew was warm and comforting. He understood her loss because he felt it, too.
Jack had left them both behind.
Matthew gripped her waist with big, strong hands. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too.” They were repeating themselves.
A small voice warned her to back away, but she sought his lips once more. A comforting kiss between friends still grieving, that’s all it was. A reminder that they hadn’t died, too, even though it felt like they had.
But as the kiss grew deeper and more insistent, Annie fought against the sensation of drowning. Breathing hard, she pulled away. Her eyes burned like hot coals blistering with shame. How could she?
“I’m sorry,” she choked out.
“Me, too.” His voice wasn’t steady, either.
Annie looked at the regret-filled horror on Matthew’s face. She silently counted, but it was too late. She lost it.
Chapter One (#ulink_ad211327-9970-5568-8d31-5529a2d96c82)
April
“I can’t be.” Annie stared at the results with blurry eyes.
Fifteen years she’d been married to Jack. Ten of those years they’d tried to have a baby with no success. She’d switched to an organic diet, tried herbal remedies, fertility pills and shots that had made her sick, but nothing had worked.
Five years ago, she quit the ballet troupe in Grand Rapids and moved north with Jack to Maple Springs and set up shop as a dance instructor. Annie had gained a little weight since then but never enough. She’d never conceived. She’d accepted her fate and moved on.
But Jack had never stopped hoping.
Annie grabbed the box and reread the instructions. She’d followed them implicitly. How hard was it? She glanced at the test strip. The symbol was definitely showing a plus sign instead of a negative. And that plus sign grew darker.
Her stomach turned over. “Oh, Jack...”
Was this God’s idea of a cruel joke? All these years they’d tried and failed. According to this test, they’d finally succeeded. But Jack would never see his own child. She closed her eyes, remembering the romantic Valentine’s getaway they’d enjoyed at a ski resort near Traverse City. Neither of them skied, but Annie had been given a gift certificate from one of her clients for Christmas.
Was that when— If so, in a few months her belly would show and her in-laws would be heartsick when they found out. It’d be like losing Jack all over again if something went wrong.
Annie rubbed her temples. Jack’s parents lived fifteen miles away in the town with the big grocery store. It’s why she and Jack had chosen Maple Springs—close and yet far enough away. That and Jack had loved ice fishing and snowmobiling with Matthew during the off-season.
Annie had a hunch her in-laws were relieved they didn’t need to deal with her now that their son was gone. Another twist of fate. Becoming grandparents would no doubt bring their paths back together. Marie was bound to be impossible. She’d never approved of anything Annie did. Annie was a dancer. It didn’t matter that she’d been a professional ballerina, she might as well have come off the Vegas strip.
Tears spilled over and ran down her cheeks as she sat there, test still in hand. A knock at the front door made her jump.
“Annie?”
She stood at the sound of her friend, Ginger, coming inside. Annie blew her nose with a tissue and then threw the early pregnancy test into the powder-room trash can. Quickly, she washed her hands and left.
“I’m in the kitchen.” Annie peeked out of the window into her backyard. Early daffodils had burst to life after what seemed like years in the deep freeze of a hard northern Michigan winter.
She leaned against the deep porcelain sink she’d found at an antique sale with Jack after they’d bought this house. They’d taken their time remodeling it room by room. Except for the roof. Jack was planning to do that this summer with Matthew’s help.
Matthew...
The kiss they’d shared haunted her still. She might as well have a scarlet letter sewn across her heart reminding her how she’d betrayed Jack’s memory. Matthew’s embrace had been gentle when he awkwardly patted her back while she’d cried. The poor guy. Another poke to the heart from the needle that had stitched on that scarlet letter.
Her friend’s high-heeled footsteps clicked on the tiled floor. “You okay? I know Easter Sunday at church is hard, but when I called this morning and got your answering machine, I got worried.”
Annie sniffed. “I’m fine.”
Her friend’s eyes narrowed. “No, you’re not. What’s going on?”
She felt the tears stinging her eyes again. She’d been so emotional lately and thought it was all about grief, until she threw up and counted backward.
Ginger reached out her hands.
Annie took them, swallowing hard. She had to get a grip, but it felt as if she walked in a dream, like after she’d gotten word of Jack’s death. In the weeks that had followed, she used to wander around in a daze. She’d often wake with a start, heart racing with fear before the pain came when reality hit that Jack was gone.
“I’m, ah...”
Ginger cocked her head. “Maybe you should sit down and tell me. You look a little flushed.”
Annie slumped into a chair and ran her finger along the grooves of her kitchen table. The burden didn’t feel quite so heavy when it sunk in that she was finally going to have a baby. Something Jack had wanted for so long. A dream she’d given up on long ago.
Hope swelled and her spirits lifted, only to be dashed again. Jack wouldn’t be there. He’d miss the birth of his own child.
Ginger touched her arm. “Annie?”
“I’m pregnant,” she choked out. “A couple months, if I’ve counted right.”
Ginger’s eyes widened. They were big, anyway, but right now her friend’s eyes reminded Annie of the brown speckled eggs she bought at the agricultural co-op a block over. “Oh, Annie, that’s wonderful.”
Annie ran her fingers through her hair, gripping it into a thick bundle at the nape of her neck. “Is it?”
“I’ll make tea.” Ginger went to the stove and grabbed the kettle. Once it was filled with water and settled over a high flame, she turned. “God’s given you a gift.”
A little late. She snorted. “Where was He five years ago with this gift?”
“Annie!” Ginger’s voice dipped low. “Have you told anyone?”
Annie shook her head. “I just found out this morning with one of those store-bought tests. I’ll wait until I see a doctor, to be sure.”
But pregnancy confirmed what was happening to her body. It wasn’t simply grief taking its toll. A new threat surfaced. One that scared her far more than raising a child alone. “I’m forty years old, Gin. What if I can’t carry this baby to term?”
Ginger smiled. “You will. You can do this.”
“I hope so.” That was an understatement.
Annie grabbed ceramic mugs from the cupboard. The teakettle’s whistle blew, piercing the air. She filled her silver tea ball with loose leaves and tossed it in the pot. Then poured in hot water and let the tea steep all while the challenges of the future ahead flashed through her mind.
Annie slumped back in her chair. “I never considered raising a baby on my own. But I’ve got Jack’s life insurance and the dance studio. I can bring a baby there, so I won’t need to pay for day care for a while at least. It’ll be fine. I’ll be fine.”
If Annie repeated that a few times, would she eventually believe it?
“Don’t forget Jack’s parents.”
She gave her friend a sharp look. “I was trying to do just that.”
Ginger laughed. She knew all about Annie’s issues with her mother-in-law. “You know they’ll help.”
Annie looked at the pretty young woman who owned the shop where she bought her spices and loose tea and nodded. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
They went to the same church and had always been friendly, but Ginger had become a close friend after Jack died. After her aunt and sister returned to their homes in Arizona, Ginger had been the one holding out a safety ring when Annie thought she’d drown.
She still treaded water. Some days she’d slide under the waves and some days she’d float above them. With a baby on the way, she’d need to start floating way more than sinking. It’s what Jack would expect of her. He’d want her to be happy.
May
Matthew Zelinsky walked along the downtown streets of his hometown where cottages lined the small harbor dug into the shoreline of northern Lake Michigan. The month of May meant that summer homes were finally opened up with cheery flowers dripping from their window boxes. The same went for gift shops clustered on Main Street. Even though he’d grown up here in Maple Springs, Michigan, the beauty of the area was never lost on him.
Some things never changed. Others changed too much. He missed Jack, his captain and friend. The new captain—Wyatt Williams was his name—was okay, but it wasn’t the same. It’d never be the same again.
Matthew stepped out of the warm sunshine into the funky spice shop where Annie liked to buy her tea. The place was crowded. Summer residents had descended into the resort town a few days before Memorial Day weekend with its parade, craft fair and chicken BBQ.
Glancing at the line of big glass jars holding what looked like dried up weeds, he waited his turn. Was this the right thing to give a woman who regretted the kiss they’d shared?
Roses were out. Way too romantic. He was pretty sure Annie wanted none of that. She didn’t eat real chocolate, either, and he refused to buy carob. He wouldn’t know where to find the stuff. Chocolate implied romance, too, and he wasn’t sure that’s where he should go.
He had his regrets, as well. He wouldn’t walk out on Annie as he’d done at the funeral. He didn’t need to buy her anything but wanted Annie to know that this time, he’d be there if she needed him. Jack would want him to look out for her.
What would Jack think of him kissing his wife?
“Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Neighbor’s Wife...”
Matthew had learned his ten commandments as a kid and could recite them easily enough, but the last one took on new meaning. What kind of guy kissed a grieving widow a week after her husband’s funeral?
The sounds of laughter erupted as more folks came inside. His turn had come and he stepped up to the counter.
The owner, Annie’s friend, looked up. “Hi, Matthew. Welcome back.”
“Hey, Ginger.”
Jack and Annie had tried to fix him up with her, but Matthew hadn’t been interested. No surprise there. Work on the Great Lakes took him away for months at a time. Most of the women he’d dated couldn’t handle it. They’d call too often and complain too much when he didn’t call back. There were dead zones out there, but that excuse had never flown very far. Drama. He hated all the drama.
Ginger smiled. “I heard your company hired on a new captain. How is he?”
Matthew rubbed the back of his neck. Was that all she’d heard? “He’s okay. And temporary. For now.”
“Good. What can I help you with?”
He perused the shelves loaded with names of spices and herbs he’d never heard of. “I’m looking for some tea.”
She looked surprised. “For you?”
“For Annie.” His cheeks burned. He forced himself to look Ginger in the eye. “You probably know what she likes. Give me whatever you think best.”
Again, she smiled. Not an unkind smile, either. “I have just the thing.”
He relaxed. A little. If Ginger knew anything about that kiss, she wasn’t holding it against him. He wouldn’t blame her if she did. He never should have let it go that far, but he’d sensed that Annie needed to be held. He’d needed to hold her, too. But after she’d kissed him back, something had snapped inside and let loose. So here he stood, buying apology tea.
Ginger removed the silver lid of a big glass container and scooped out the contents. The tea leaves looked like what he’d rake up from his parents’ yard complete with little sticks.
“So, what are you up to for the next thirty days of free time?”
He shrugged. He needed to talk to Annie about her roof among other things. “I’m hoping to work on a building project, why?”
“No reason.” She shrugged, too, as if she had something to say. Did she? “It’s nice of you to buy tea for Annie. She’ll enjoy this blend.”
He cocked his head. “Yeah?”
“There’s a little flyer in there with the ingredients and instructions.” She handed him the brown paper bag stamped with The Spice of Life in dark green ink.
“Thanks. I’ll be sure to tell her.” He paid for his purchase and left.
Driving the three blocks from Ginger’s store to Annie’s Craftsman-style bungalow, he rehearsed the argument he’d give her for letting him replace the roof. The past two months had given him lots of time to think. And he’d thought about Annie Marshall practically every day of the sixty spent on his freighter.
He parked, got out and then stood on the walkway. Staring at her front porch, he gripped the paper bag Ginger had given him tighter. Good grief, this was Annie he was coming to see. He’d joked around with her for years, but Jack had always been there, too. Now he wasn’t.
Annie was Jack’s widow now.
He’d called her once in a while in port, but they hadn’t said much. He couldn’t broach the subject of that kiss. A phone call wasn’t the best choice for that awkward conversation. It’d be better to talk to her in person. Like now.
He checked his watch. Ten-thirty was a respectable time to make a morning visit. He knew from what Jack had said that Annie’s weekday dance lessons didn’t start until after lunchtime. Had that changed?
He’d find out soon enough.
He gingerly ascended the wide front porch steps, remembering how he’d helped Jack and Annie move in after they’d bought the place. He’d also helped paint the exterior. She’d picked out the colors and called it sagegreen. She’d been adamant about pairing it with bright white trim. He and Jack had thought tan would look better.
He smiled, remembering how Annie had managed to get more paint on her than the house. He spotted her small car in the driveway and with a deep breath, knocked on the front door.
Nothing.
So he knocked again before he lost his nerve. Harder.
“Just a minute.” Her voice sounded thin and far away, filtering through the screens of open windows.
It took a few moments before Annie finally opened the door. She wore socks that slouched around her ankles and shorts with a baggy T-shirt. Her thick, dark blond hair looked as though it had been pulled back in a hurry. She had a wet washcloth in her hand. Had she been cleaning?
“Maybe I should have called,” Matthew said.
Her beautiful eyes widened with surprise. “That would have been a good idea.”
He smiled, searched for some smart comment to tease her with and then frowned. She looked pale, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. “Hey, are you okay?”
Her face went white. She grasped the washcloth to her mouth and ran for the bathroom off the kitchen. He could hear her retch from where he stood, still on the porch.
Quietly, he entered and closed the door. “What’s wrong, have you got the flu? I heard it’s going around.” Or was that old news he’d heard before going out on the lakes?
“Must be.”
He could hear the water running as he made his way into the kitchen. He settled the bag of tea from Ginger’s store on the counter and then filled the teakettle with fresh cold water, placed it on the stove and turned up the heat.
He’d never made tea from loose leaves before, but he’d watched Annie do it a thousand times. He fished around the utensil drawer until he found the silver ball he’d seen her use. Then he pulled out the plastic bag of tea and a piece of paper fluttered to the counter.
He glanced at the list of ingredients. Ginger root, spearmint leaf, red raspberry leaf, orange peel, chamomile, peppermint leaf and lemon balm.
What was lemon balm? Might as well be grass clippings.
He opened cupboards and then closed them.
“What are you doing?”
He turned, not liking the wary look in her eyes. “I’m looking for a teapot.”
Her color hadn’t returned. If anything, she looked even paler. And too thin. She’d lost weight. Annie’s hair was wet, like she’d missed when splashing water on her face. She still managed to look beautiful, though. But fragile.
She came forward, her movements lithe and graceful. Annie had a dancer’s body—long and lean even though she wasn’t all that tall. He’d never gone to any of her performances. He wasn’t a ballet kind of guy, but maybe he’d missed something special. She opened a lower cupboard, pulling out a round pink pot, and set it on the counter. Then she grabbed two mugs from an upper cupboard.
He leaned against the sink, out of her way. He would have kept the pot next to the cups considering they got used every day, but then he didn’t have much in the way of dishes at his place so who was he to criticize.
She glanced at him. Wary.
“Thanks.” Okay, yeah. Maybe he was a little afraid of her, too. Of touching her. Look what had happened the last time.
“Thank you for the tea.” She peeked inside the bag and picked up the paper. Her eyes widened and her face flushed.
He reached out and touched her shoulder. Felt her tremble. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine. Yes. I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t look fine. She looked upset, like she might even cry. He prayed she wouldn’t cry. That night her sobs had torn him in two.
Annie had lost her husband. The husband they both loved. He’d turn back the clock if he could. Matthew wished a thousand times over that he’d taken Jack’s comment about heartburn after dinner more seriously. If only he’d known. But then they’d eaten hot wings for dinner and nearly everyone on board had heartburn.
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d let Annie down by not keeping Jack safe. Keeping everyone safe on ship was part of his job. His responsibility. He couldn’t help but feel as if he’d failed when it came to Jack.
The teakettle whistle blew through the silence, shattering his thoughts.
Annie bustled forward and turned off the gas.
Matthew touched her arm again. Why’d he keep touching her? “I’ve got this. Sit down before you fall down.”
She looked at him with a raised chin. Annie didn’t like him telling her what to do. Her soft blue eyes had yellow rings around the pupils. Pretty eyes made even prettier framed with thick, dark lashes. She nodded, crumpled up the paper that came with the tea and sat down.
He felt her watchful eyes burning holes into his back as he stuffed the clippings in the silver ball and tossed it into the pot. No doubt she’d jump in if he did it wrong.
Next, he dumped in hot water and settled the lid in place and then set it on the table in front of her. He slid into the opposite chair and handed Annie a mug.
“You want any?”
“Ah, no.” He was a strong coffee kind of guy and he’d already had his fill this morning. Still, he watched her pour herself a cup of the rust-colored water.
She sniffed it, took a tentative sip and then a deep breath. Waited and then another sip.
“Does it help?”
Her eyes flew open wide. “Help what?”
“Your stomach. You just threw up, remember?”
Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. “Yeah.”
He smiled, at an odd loss for words. He’d never had to try hard to talk to her before. He grabbed the paper ball she’d crumpled and smoothed it back out. The name on the other side smacked hard.
Morning Sickness Tea.
He handed it back to her. “What does this mean?”
Annie looked up like a scared rabbit, ready to dart for cover. “Look, Matthew—”
“Are you going to have a baby?”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she shrugged.
“Don’t you know for sure?” His voice sounded much too shrill.
Annie looked fierce. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Matthew sat back, stunned. “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow. Please don’t tell anyone about the baby.”
His gaze narrowed. “Why?”
Her eyes clouded over. “Please?”
He knew how badly Jack had wanted kids. He’d put on a good front with his wife and often acted as if it didn’t matter. But Matthew knew how deep Jack’s disappointment ran. And now, the guy would never see his own kid.
He sighed. “I won’t say anything.”
“Thank you.”
“But I’ll help.”
Annie’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?
Matthew stood up and paced the kitchen. He’d blurted out that offer without thinking, but it felt right. “Starting with the roof—”
“Matthew, please. Don’t do this because you feel guilty over a silly kiss. We were both vulnerable that night.”
Irritation ripped through him. Hearing her words made him feel cheap. And there was nothing silly about that kiss. Cliché, maybe, but it had shaken his world pretty good. “Will you let me finish?”
She fluttered her fingers. “Fine, go ahead.”
“Are those shingles for the roof still in the garage?”
She looked confused. “I don’t know. I guess.”
“I’d like to take care of the roof while I’m off for the next few weeks.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I can call someone.”
Of course she was going to be difficult. “I want to do it.”
She stood, too, and went to the sink. “Just let it go.”
Matthew wanted to, but couldn’t just let it go. “Annie...”
She faced him. “I mean it. I’m not your responsibility. I can take care of myself.”
“I never said you couldn’t. I promised Jack I’d help him with the roof and I want to honor that promise.”
She stared him down.
He stared back.
This was about his promise to Jack. Not her. It couldn’t be about her. But deep inside, he knew it was all about her. He couldn’t help it. He cared. He’d always cared. And now, with a baby on the way, she’d need someone to lean on. That someone might as well be him.
“I need to do it. Don’t you get that?”
Her eyes softened. “I just—” She went pale again and pursed her lips. Her forehead broke out into a sweat.
He went to her. “Come on—you should probably lie down. We can talk about this later.”
“I’m fine.”
Obviously, she wasn’t. Stubborn woman. “I’ll carry you if I have to.”
She gave him one challenging look and then grabbed her mug and headed for the living room. She moved pretty fast for someone who needed morning sickness tea.
Round one with Annie.
He smiled as he followed her.
At least he’d won.
* * *
Annie sank onto the couch. She wasn’t about to lie down in front of Matthew, so she pulled her feet up under her and leaned against the arm. She took another sip of tea and waited for the nausea to pass. It always passed.
“Do you want me to get your pillow?” Matthew asked.
“No.” She wanted to wipe that caring look off his handsome face. And stop the jitters in her stomach when he looked at her like that.
His skin was already tanned from the sun. Lines cut across his forehead and around his eyes, but not from age. His skin looked weathered from being out on deck where the spring winds chafed. Rugged.
But he was still young, thirty-one, maybe thirty-two by now. He grabbed the afghan from the chair by the fireplace and draped it over her with strong hands that could be so gentle.
“Thanks.” Any minute now, she’d tell him to leave.
Why was he being so nice? But then, Matthew had always been nice. Jack had once told her how Matthew had nursed an injured seagull back to health. A seagull! Jack had called them rats with wings. She had a lot more than a broken wing. She didn’t want to take advantage of that kindness.
“Just take it easy.” He tucked the blanket’s edge behind her shoulder, coming much too close for comfort.
She glanced up and the sharp retort poised on her tongue died the moment she spied confusion wash across his face.
His eyes darted to her mouth.
She held her breath, powerless. The air hummed with this new awareness of each other. This awkward attraction snatched their words and they ended up staring. Remembering, maybe even reliving, that kiss they’d shared.
He abruptly stood and backed away. “I’m going to check the garage for those shingles and then go. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay.” She wasn’t going to call.
At the door he paused. “Annie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to help with the baby. Jack would want me to.”
“Matthew—”
But he’d already closed the door.
Annie let loose a sigh. A nugget of hope blossomed and grew. Matthew was right. Jack would want him to help her out because it would help Matthew heal, too. He was the brother Jack never had and probably the only man Jack trusted implicitly.
But Annie didn’t want to depend on Matthew. He couldn’t fill the void that Jack left behind, and needing someone hurt all the more when they were gone.
Chapter Two (#ulink_6616b4d5-c07e-551a-b7b2-097c2b5b9e48)
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 their 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?”
Her eyes flashed. “Toast, okay?”
“Dude—” Luke started, but Matthew silenced him with a hard look.
Annie was glad Matthew didn’t defend his overbearing concern, but she gave his brother her sympathy. “He thinks he’s helping.”
Luke laughed and bit into the steaming pizza.
While the men ate, Annie looked over her backyard. She usually put in a small garden in the corner. Memorial weekend had always been her planting time, but she hadn’t so much as tilled the soil yet. Too tired. When would she stop feeling so tired?
And alone.
She was used to Jack gone for months at a time out on the lakes, but knowing he’d never come back had set her adrift.
She spotted strips of torn shingles hanging from the Dumpster and littering the ground where the guys had missed. Too easily, she could picture her husband making jokes about their aim and her heart twisted.
“Thank you for lunch.” Matthew’s serious-sounding voice caught her attention.
She looked at him. His nose was sunburned. The yellow T-shirt he wore was damp and dirty in spots, but he smelled good, like fresh air and sunshine. She even sniffed a hint of spice when he moved.
Matthew was definitely a handsome man but she had no business noticing. So why’d she feel this pull toward him? Was it their shared grief or her crazy hormones kicking in? How could she find him attractive so soon after the husband she loved had died?
He looked at her, too, his gaze locked with hers.
He was never far from her thoughts these days. Could Matthew read them, too? She cleared her throat. “It’s the least I can do considering the work you guys are doing. How does it look up there?”
“Good,” Luke mumbled around a mouthful. “No damage underneath the old shingles.”
“I’ll leave the back door unlocked when I leave. There’s a bathroom off the kitchen. Help yourself to anything in the fridge, too.” She nibbled a cracker.
Luke stood with another piece of pizza in hand. “Thanks, Annie.” He grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler and nodded toward his brother. “I’m going back up.”
“I’ll be a sec.”
Luke nodded and left.
Annie stood, as well, uncomfortable sitting alone with Matthew. “I’ll get you my credit card.”
He touched her arm. “No need. I’ll have an invoice prepared with a detailed list of items purchased from the hardware store. We used our uncle’s account so you’ve got three weeks to pay on it.”
“Oh.” She slumped back into her chair, feeling a little nauseous and lost, but oddly comforted by his touch.
She looked at him.
He looked back.
Really, what could they talk about? They’d never had trouble with conversation before, but it was different now. They were different. She tipped her head back against her chair and closed her eyes, willing the upset in her belly to settle.
Matthew’s fingertips slid to her hand. “You okay?”
That gentle gesture zinged up her arm. “Fine. I just— Can you close that pizza box?”
Her skin cooled where his fingers had been as he secured the cardboard lid and pushed the offensive pizza away.
Annie finally opened her eyes. “I should get ready for my class.”
“Maybe you should skip today.” He sounded worried.
“Oh, no.” She popped out of her seat. “I’m fine. Really.”
Matthew didn’t look as if he believed her. In fact, he looked irritated.
Welcome to the club.
Irritation and worry were Annie’s daily companions, lined up behind the empty feeling of loss. Right now she couldn’t take the concern in Matthew’s eyes. Nor the desire to lean on him. He had broad shoulders that she’d cried against before. She didn’t want to do it again or she might not stop.
“So what did the doctor say about all this?”
“The usual stuff, I suppose.” Annie didn’t want to admit her fears or that high-risk label. It’d only make Matthew worry that much more. She didn’t want him hovering too close, either.
“When will it be born?” Matthew pressed.
“It?” She laughed when his cheeks reddened.
“He, she... I don’t know what to say.”
Annie patted his shoulder and felt his muscles tense beneath her touch. “Before Thanksgiving.”
“That’s before the close of the shipping season.” Matthew stood up and faced her.
Why’d he look so concerned? “Yeah, so?”
“So...I want to be there.”
Annie’s stomach flipped but she shook her head. What was he thinking offering up something like that? “I’ll be fine. Ginger can go with me.”
The curse of every single mother reduced to having their friends there for delivery instead of the baby’s father. She and Jack would have had all winter together with their child. And now?
Christmas was going to be horrible this year.
Matthew saw too much and stood too close. “Aww, Annie.”
Annie backed away before she did something stupid like pulling him into her arms. Those broad shoulders of his were calling out for another good cry.
One, two, three...
Her tongue felt dry and thick, but she managed to say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
The following evening, Matthew stepped inside Annie’s dance studio. She’d taken over a space once used as an exercise gym. The storefront remained a wall of windows that Annie had covered with see-through fabric framed by maroon velvet curtains. The other walls were covered with mirrors. Classical music played softly over the sound system.
A few people that he assumed might be parents lingered while Annie worked with a group of young girls. They stood in a single line and gripped a waist-high bar.
“First, second, third...” Annie called out the numbers as she moved into different positions. Up on her toes, down, pointed leg out, back in.
Her students followed her lead.
Annie didn’t use a bar and she moved with fluid grace. Her hair had been twined into a knot at the back of her head making her neck look long like the rest of her. She wore a leotard over black leggings and a filmy skirt. Her stomach looked as trim as the rest of her.
Jack had met Annie at a coffee shop in Grand Rapids where she’d been a ballerina with a company there. She’d left performing behind when they moved north and set up this studio. If he remembered correctly, she taught both ballet and exercise—advanced stretching or something.
Annie caught him watching her and faltered.
He smiled. She must have been beautiful on stage.
Checking her watch, Annie announced. “Okay, ladies, that’s it for today. Nice job.”
A chorus of “aww” rang out.
While she talked to parents, he toured the wall of fame decorated with pictures of local dance productions Annie had been involved with and previous students that had gone beyond what this area had to offer.
He turned when he heard her approach.
“Sorry.” Her face flushed. No, her skin glowed. But that could be from the sheen of healthy perspiration along her forehead. She wiped it away with a towel and then looked up at him. “What are you doing here?”
Good question. “I thought I’d go over the invoice that lists out the roofing materials with you.”
She tipped her head. “You could have brought it over tomorrow.”
“I was on my way home and thought maybe you’d want to grab dinner.” Showing Annie what she paid for on the roof was reason enough to stop by. But then, maybe it was about spending time with her, too, making sure she was okay. Stopping by her house later wasn’t a good idea, and tomorrow, he’d be busy with the roof, hurried along by Luke.
“Dinner, huh?” She looked wary.
“Are you feeling up to it?”
Then annoyed. “You don’t have to worry about me, you know.”
“I know.” So why was he? He thought about her a lot. Maybe too much. “But we both have to eat.”
She smiled. “I am hungry and cooking doesn’t sound appealing tonight.”
“I’ll even let you pick the place.” He smiled back.
That earned him an evil look of mischief like the old Annie. “There’s a new restaurant down the street that’s good.”
Matthew got nervous considering what Annie thought was good food. “Do they serve real meat?”
“Yes.” She chuckled and sat down to unlace the ribbons of her ivory-colored ballet shoes with the square toes.
“Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?” She pulled off a sheer footie sock.
“Standing on your toes like that.”
Annie stretched out bare feet and wiggled her skinny, calloused toes that were taped in places. “I’ve exercised them all my life to make them strong, so I’m used to it. But my feet are ugly.”
He’d never noticed her feet before. They looked work-hardened but not bad. “I’ve seen prettier.”
She clobbered him in the shoulder but laughed. It sounded good hearing her laugh. “Let me throw on a cover-up and we’ll go.”
“I’ll be right here.” He meant it, too. She could lean on him. “Always here for you. I hope you know that.”
She nodded. After scooping up her ballet shoes, she entered her windowed office and slipped on a baggy cotton dress over her dance clothes. Annie turned off the lights and swung a big purse over her shoulder before coming back to stand before him. She’d slipped into cloth-like flats that barely covered her feet.
“After you.” She opened the door for him.
He stepped outside and waited while she locked up. “How far is it?”
Annie shrugged. “About a block away. Do you mind walking?”
“Not at all.” He almost reached for her hand.
This felt a lot like a date. Was he trying to date Annie Marshall? Surely, it was too soon to go there.
He glanced at the woman walking beside him. She was a few years older than him. Not that it mattered. Not to him. The fine lines near her eyes didn’t detract a bit. She’d always been beautiful. And ageless, like one of those models he’d see on infomercials sharing their fountain-of-youth secrets.
Annie caught him staring. “What?”
“Nothing.” He really needed to cover this awkward awareness or they’d have an uncomfortable dinner together. “I was just picturing your feet.”
She rolled her eyes. “Real nice.”
It felt good to tease her. Like they were friends again and nothing had happened to change that. There was no reason to let one kiss change what they were. They were friends. He needed to remember that.
Chapter Three (#ulink_aa0a2748-c319-52ee-a876-9bf5ad524869)
“Thanks for dinner.” Annie snuggled deeper against the passenger seat of Matthew’s truck. She should have stood her ground and walked home like normal. It might have energized her after dinner. The restaurant was only a few blocks from her house, but Matthew wouldn’t hear of it.
Matthew turned onto her street. “No problem.”
After the cold, damp month of April, May had whispered in with warm days, but the evenings still turned cool.
It was still daylight at nine in the evening as the sun hadn’t quite set. One of the many advantages of living in northern Michigan was the long days summer provided.
She let loose a yawn and her eyelids drooped.
“Tired?”
“Yeah. I ate way too much.”
Matthew chuckled. “I’m glad you’ve got your appetite back.”
Tonight, her appetite had returned with a vengeance. She’d eaten everything in sight while Matthew went over the list of materials purchased for her roof. She’d told him not to worry, that she trusted him, but he’d been thorough, anyway. He wanted her to know what he and his brother were doing and why.
He pulled into her driveway and put the truck in park then turned toward her. “I’m worried about you.”
Annie stared straight ahead. “Don’t be. Please? I’m working through this.”
“You don’t have to do it alone. I’m right here.”
Annie looked at Matthew’s earnest face. It’d be easy to depend on him. And too easy to repeat the kiss that had happened in this same truck. She wasn’t going to do that to him. It wasn’t fair to trap him into something that was merely grief-driven, or worse. Maybe this was about hormones.
She forced a smile. “I know you are, and I appreciate it. You don’t owe me anything, Matthew.”
He looked relieved, but troubled. “I know.”
She cupped his cheek and smiled. “I’m okay.”
He leaned toward her, only slightly, and then stopped. His blue eyes searched hers.
Annie pulled her hand back before her overactive hormones kicked her into trouble. Again. “Good night, Matthew.”
“Good night.”
She slipped out of his truck. Bounding up the stairs onto the porch, she turned and waved before unlocking her door. He didn’t leave. She knew he wouldn’t leave until she was safely inside.
And behind a locked door.
In the dining room, she peeked through the curtains. Matthew waved then left. He treated her like glass since he’d come home. Maybe because she’d shattered so quickly after that kiss.
Her purse vibrated, so she pulled out her cell phone. “Hello?”
“Annie, where are you? I was getting worried.” Ginger had called twice according to her missed calls.
“Sorry, I went out to dinner and forgot to switch my phone back to a ringtone after dance class. What’s up?”
“I wanted to see how you’re feeling.”
Annie clamped down irritation. Really, she should be thankful that she had good friends. People who cared. But she wasn’t twelve years old and staying home alone for the first time. “I’m fine.”
“Wait, who’d you go to dinner with?”
“I went with Matthew.”
“Oh?”
Annie knew that tone well. She wasn’t biting on her friend’s tell-me-more interest. “What’s with that stunt in selling him morning sickness tea?”
“He asked what you’d like, so that seemed like the perfect choice because you needed something for the nausea.” She sounded innocent enough. “Does it help?”
“Yes, but I didn’t want anyone to know. Not yet.” Annie plopped onto the couch and kicked off her shoes before putting her feet up.
Despite the red nail polish on her toes, she’d always have ugly feet. How many times had her mother-in-law said it was unnatural to go en pointe?
“So, he figured it out?”
“Yeah, and now he’s redoing my roof.” Annie wiggled her toes.
“Out of the blue, he’s replacing your roof?”
“No. He and Jack were going to do it this summer, during their shared week off. Matthew wanted to keep that promise. His brother is helping him.”
“Uh-huh.”
Was that sarcasm she heard? “Ginger—”
“Sounds to me like he’s doing this for you because he cares.”
“Of course he cares. He was Jack’s best friend.” Annie’s stomach tipped and rolled.
Gas bubbles? And small wonder after the meal she’d eaten. This weird feeling had more to do with her digestion than any dawning attraction to Matthew. She’d read about what to expect in the months ahead. She shouldn’t feel the baby’s movements for a least another couple weeks to a month.
“That’s not what I meant.”
Annie knew exactly what Ginger meant. “It’s way too soon.”
Her friend snorted. “Says who?”
“Seriously? Anyone would think it’s too soon. Besides, how can I even think about someone else after Jack?”
“Jack’s gone, hon.” Ginger’s voice grew soft and full of sympathy. “It’s okay to care for someone new. Especially someone who understands what you’re going through. Matthew knows how much this hurts.”
Annie’s throat grew tight. That’s what was scary. Matthew knew her well. He felt what she felt. But half of her also felt dead. Grief had a way of numbing emotions, and some feelings never came back. Not exactly a prize for a guy as sweet as Matthew Zelinsky. He deserved better. He deserved someone whole. And someone young.
* * *
The next day, Matthew took in his and Luke’s handiwork from atop Annie’s home. The roof was nearly done. With rain forecasted for the looming Memorial Day weekend, they’d finish up in the nick of time. He stretched and yawned.
He spotted Annie resting in a lounge chair after she’d spent the morning weeding her flower beds. Her small garden plot lay untouched and unready for planting. Now that it was only her, maybe she didn’t want to plant vegetables.
That small reminder of Jack’s death hit him like a punch in the gut as a sense of loss swamped him. Jack had always bragged about his wife’s cucumbers and tomatoes and onions. He used to bring bags of her homegrown veggies onto the laker. Matthew hated the thought of Annie giving it up.
She hadn’t moved from that lounge chair in a while. Had she fallen asleep again? Dressed in loose overall shorts and a T-shirt, Annie had a large floppy hat covering her face so he couldn’t tell if she was awake or not.
He checked his watch. Nearly noon. “Hey, I’m going to buzz home real quick.”
“What for?” Luke took a long swig from his water bottle.
The sun scorched them both and lunch would be a welcome break.
“I’m going to grab that fish we caught last night. We can grill it here for lunch.” Maybe that’d bolster Annie’s spirits. She loved a fresh catch.
“Good idea.”
Matthew climbed down the ladder. “Anything you want to go with it?”
“Coleslaw.”
He nodded. Annie had been feeding him and his little brother every day. Lunch was ordered in or picked up from the corner IGA store. They’d had pizza, sub sandwiches and even a bucket of fried chicken. Stuff Annie didn’t eat. Today, he’d grill something for her and maybe pick up a couple funky salads, too. Annie liked a lot of greens. She’d eaten a whole plateful of rabbit food last night at dinner.
It didn’t take long to buy what he needed. The small house he shared with one of his older brothers—and soon Luke—sat on the edge of town. Right near the locally owned and operated grocery store. In less than half an hour, he was back at Annie’s lighting the gas grill.
Luke worked on the roof while he grilled and Annie continued to snooze. The woman could really sleep. Did the baby sap her energy, or was it depression? Grief could fall into despair.
He prayed Annie wasn’t so wrecked by Jack’s death that she couldn’t sleep at night. She had smiled, though. Laughed even. With him. So he had hope that she was making her way back.
He stepped inside to gather plates, utensils and glasses full of ice. Annie kept the cooler outside stocked with water and pop. She’d also made sun tea in a big glass jar with a spigot.
Luke appeared from the roof and set the table.
Annie woke up and, looking dazed, headed toward the deck gripping her midsection. “What’s that garlicky smell?”
“Lunch.” He lifted the lid and pulled the tray of perfectly seasoned walleye fillets off the grill. “Luke and I caught these last night.”
Annie’s face went pale. No. More like ashen-green. He’d seen that same skin color when rookies got sea-sick on the lakes. She slapped a hand over her mouth and backed away. Fast. She didn’t make it far before she retched in an empty flowerpot.
He set the fish back on the grill and bounded down the steps with a handful of napkins. “Wow, Annie, I’m sorry. I thought you’d like fish and didn’t think...”
She breathed deep and held out her hand to stay back. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”
He watched her heave once more but nothing came out. He placed his hand on her back and held out the napkins.
She gripped his hand. Hard.
He suddenly chuckled at the situation. Who threw up in an empty flowerpot? “You done?”
“I don’t know.”
He caught his brother’s eye. “Luke, grab a bottle of water, would you?”
Luke had filled his plate but stood frozen in place, eyes wide. Then he moved quickly, slamming the cooler lid and bounding down the stairs with water. “What’s wrong with her?”
“No, don’t...” Annie retched again.
Luke backed away. “Whoa...”
Matthew took the water bottle from his brother, no longer seeing the humor in this. “Do me a favor.”
“Yeah?”
“Take my truck and go get your stuff. We’ll finish the roof tomorrow.” Matthew threw him his keys.
Luke caught them. “How will you get home?”
“Just do it.” He didn’t think Annie wanted an audience, and since she gripped his hand tighter than a vise, he wasn’t going anywhere soon. Besides, he could walk the couple miles home if he had to.
“Okaaaay.” His brother narrowed his gaze. “So, what’s the deal here?”
“Go, will you?”
Luke nodded. He grabbed his plate on the way.
Matthew ignored the swishing sound of his brother getting a pop from the ice-filled cooler before finally leaving. He handed Annie the water bottle. “Here.”
She shook her head, scattering tears. Her hand trembled in his as she lurched down and dry-heaved one more time.
Helpless, he rubbed her back.
“Ugh! Sorry,” she mumbled and let go of him.
He noticed that her hands shook as she pushed back her hair. He poured water over the napkins and handed them to her.
She wiped her mouth and forehead then took a swig of water from the icy bottle. “Thanks.”
He frowned. “Sorry about lunch.”
“It’s okay.” She teetered a little. “I think I need to go inside. Maybe lie down.”
Without asking, he scooped her up into his arms and headed for the sliding door to the laundry room.
She gasped. “I can walk.”
“No way. You look like you might pass out.”
“It’ll pass.” She burped. “Sorry.”
“Hey, you’re not going to get sick on me, are you?”
She was sipping water again and sort of giggled. “I’m not making any promises.”
He tucked her head over his shoulder. “Point it that way, then.”
She laughed. An awkward, embarrassed kind of laugh. “I’m so sorry.”
“You! I’m the one who messed up. I should have asked you before I grilled fi—”
She quickly placed her fingers against his lips. “It’s okay. Just don’t mention that word again.”
He playfully bit her fingers and then smiled at the surprised look on her face. “I won’t.”
She smiled back as he walked her into the living room and deposited her on the couch.
“Where’s Luke?”
“I sent him home.” He sat on the edge of a chair across from her. “Does your doctor know about you getting sick a lot?”
Annie looked away. “She said it’s a good sign.” Then a shadow fell across her face. She looked so small on the couch by herself.
“What is it?”
She shook her head.
“Talk to me, Annie. What else did the doctor say?”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I’m high-risk. There’s no guarantee I can do this—”
He was out of the chair and next to her in an instant, drawing her into his arms.
She went limp and plunked her forehead against his shoulder. “I can’t lose this baby.”
He held her tighter. “You won’t, Annie. I promise you won’t.”
She pulled away and sniffed. “You can’t make that kind of promise.”
He shushed her. “Yes, I can.”
He didn’t know what else to say. He’d shake the very earth to give her everything she needed. To make sure Jack’s kid grew strong until birth and beyond.
Starting with food. “Did you eat anything today?”
“Some toast.”
He gently pushed back her hair and kissed her forehead. “How about some eggs?”
“Matthew—”
“Look, I said I’d help and I mean it. I’m going to take care of you.”
“But—”
“We’re going to do this together. We’re going to see to it this baby makes a strong appearance come November.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Why?”
Feelings surfaced he couldn’t examine or share. “Because I loved Jack like a brother, and that makes you my family, too.”
Her eyes got all watery again. “I could use some good family.”
That was a good dodge. He couldn’t take more tears so he quickly stood. “Stay put and rest. I’ll be right back.”
* * *
Annie lay against the pillows and closed her eyes, willing the room to stop spinning. The sound of Matthew tinkering in the kitchen soothed. His words had, too, but not nearly as much as his embrace. How could that be? And what kind of woman did that make her?
She rubbed her forehead. She used to be capable of handling things on her own. Plowing through the pain of life, she dealt. It was one of the things Jack said he’d always admired about her. When had she become so needy? So weak?
There were so many things to fear these days, and hoping for the best got a person only so far. God seemed miles away, and yet Matthew was right here as he’d said. Strong and sweet Matthew with his promises. Promises she desperately wanted to cling to and believe.
She smelled melted butter and braced for the swell of nausea that didn’t come. Instead, her stomach rumbled. The teakettle whistle blew and she smiled. He was making her tea again.
Ginger’s words about caring for someone new filtered through the haze of her mind. If Matthew wasn’t careful, he might steal part of her heart. But never the whole. Jack had that and always would.
Jack...
Minutes later, Matthew appeared with a plate of steaming scrambled eggs that had a liberal amount of black pepper and probably salt, too. Plus, a mug of tea. “Here.”
She sat up, suddenly famished, and took the plate, inhaling the spicy, buttery scent.
He set her mug on the coffee table with a soft clunk.
Annie scooped a forkful of the fluffiest eggs into her mouth. “These are good.”
He smiled. “I use water instead of milk. A trick our chef taught me.”
“Oh.” Jack had always said they ate well out on the lakes. Better than he did at home. He’d never bought into her idea of nutrition. She waited to see how that first bite would settle. When nothing happened, she ate more.
“Eggs are good for you. I’m glad you had some in the fridge. I’m thinking you need more protein and not just toast.”
Annie nodded again. He was probably right. She ate eggs. Even some broiled chicken on occasion. And normally seafood, too. She closed her eyes a second. She couldn’t even think about fish without her belly turning. “Can you do me a favor?”
“Sure.”
“Can you take care of the grill before you leave? I don’t think I can handle it.” Annie finished the eggs and set her empty plate on the coffee table then leaned back to sip her tea.
“No problem.”
“Thanks for making lunch, by the way.” Her eyelids felt heavy again. She set down her tea with a tired sigh. Maybe a short nap before the only class she had scheduled today at three. All she did was sleep, it seemed.
She was supposed to feel more energy soon. Her doctor had explained that once she passed the three-month mark, she’d feel better. And stronger. She needed all the strength she could get and was already a week past that fourteen weeks mark.
“You’re welcome.” Matthew’s voice sounded soft and low.
Surely, he’d leave soon.
“When’s your next doctor appointment?”
“Next month.” Matthew might be gone by then. Back on the lakes.
“I want to go with you.”
She shifted and stared. “You’re serious.”
He smiled, standing tall and solid in front of her. “Yup.”
“Do you realize what that might look like? People will talk.”
“I don’t care about that and neither should you. It will look like a friend supporting another friend.” He gave her a wink. “No worries, okay?”
She sighed, too tired to argue. “I guess if you’re still around.”
“I’m glad you see things my way.” He grinned.
His way?
What was he talking about? This wasn’t a debate. But then she’d caved on the heels of him winning the roof argument. How many battles might they have in the name of him helping her? Would she always give in so easily? The possibilities exhausted her but a zip of anticipation shot through her, too.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/jenna-mindel/falling-for-the-mom-to-be/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.