Child of Grace. Irene Hannon

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      “When is the baby due?” He lowered himself into his chair and stretched his legs out in front of him, crossing them at the ankles.

      Her lips flattened, telling him two things. This wasn’t a subject she wanted to discuss. And her feelings about her pregnancy were mixed, at best.

      A reaction that only raised more questions.

      “September fifteenth.” She gestured to the tablet. “We’d better talk about this before we lose the light.”

      Luke got the clue and did his best to switch gears. “Okay. I’m ready.”

      As she laid out her recommendations, he continued eating his sandwich.

      In addition to media interviews, she’d come up with a dozen other ideas to garner public support and spread the word about the project, including a fundraising dinner, speaking engagements at local organizations, and a clever way to generate positive publicity for companies who donated goods to the cause, creating a win-win scenario.

      When she finished, he shook his head. “All I can say is, you must have been very good at what you did in the corporate world.”

      Her cheeks pinkened as she slipped the sheet of paper back into the lined tablet and drained her mug. “It’s not difficult to be successful when your job is your life. But that’s not the healthiest way to live.”

      “Is that why you left? To get more balance?”

      She bent down and settled the mug in the sand, hiding her face from his view. “Let’s just say circumstances helped me realize I needed to realign my priorities. Spectacular sunset, isn’t it?”

      Luke checked out the sky. The sun had dipped to the horizon, edging the clouds with gold and tinting the sky—and the beach—pink. It was spectacular. But he was more interested in the woman beside him.

      “Yeah. Fabulous.” Luke leaned back in his chair, out of her line of sight, and studied her. The setting sun continued to cast a warm glow on her profile. But it also highlighted the faint lines at the corners of her eyes that spoke of weariness and worry. Apparently, realigning her priorities hadn’t erased either of those from her life. Why not? And what “circumstances” had made her ditch the fast track in the corporate world and move to her grandmother’s cottage to make quilts? Where did the absent father of her baby fit into the picture?

      The more he learned about Kelsey Anderson, the more intrigued he became.

      Suddenly, as if sensing his scrutiny, she turned her head.

      He transferred his attention to the sky at once. “I’m glad I didn’t miss this.”

      “It beats anything on TV.” With one more glance at the sky, she tucked her tablet under her arm and swung her legs to the side of the chair. “I’d stay to the end, but navigating those steps is tricky enough when the sun is shining. It’s downright dangerous in the dark.” Her voice sounded nervous, as if she’d once more wrapped herself in a cloak of caution.

      As she struggled to extricate herself from the low-slung chair, Luke rose and held out a hand.

      “You may need to switch to a regular lawn chair soon.” He kept his tone light, hoping she’d accept his help. “They’re a lot higher off the ground.”

      He waited while she considered his hand—and let out a sigh of relief when she took it. He didn’t relinquish his hold until he was certain she was steady on the shifting sand.

      “Thanks.” She sounded a little breathless as she tugged her fingers free and reached down to fold up her chair and snag her jacket off the sand.

      As it had the day of the lightbulb incident, her top slid off her shoulder, revealing the jagged scar near her collarbone. She tugged it back into position before he got a good look, but the quick glance she darted his way told him she was afraid he’d seen it. And was worried he might ask more questions.

      He had plenty of those. But voicing them wouldn’t be smart. If he wanted to know Kelsey’s secrets, he’d have to give her time to get comfortable with him. To learn she could trust him.

      Unfortunately, given her extreme wariness, that could take a whole lot longer than the six weeks he’d be in Michigan.

      “I’ll finish up my recommendation tonight and give you a clean copy tomorrow, if that’s okay.” She hoisted her chair onto her shoulder.

      “Sure. Fine.”

      She started toward the path through the grass, and he fell into step beside her. “Why don’t you let me carry that stuff up for you? It would be easy to trip in the dark, and that wouldn’t do either of you any good.”

      Her step slowed as she eyed the steep flight of stairs ahead. “I’ve managed fine by myself so far.”

      “Things are only going to get tougher as you get bigger. As a doctor, I recommend you take whatever unsolicited help you can get. Unless you already have someone lined up to do the heavy stuff.”

      It was a backdoor way to confirm the baby’s father wasn’t around—and he doubted it would work.

      But much to his surprise, it did.

      “My sister will come if I decide—if I need help after the baby is born.”

      So the baby’s father wasn’t part of Kelsey’s life. And wouldn’t be in the future.

      Was he the source of her scar? Had she been in an abusive relationship?

      The notion didn’t sit well with him.

      “Okay. Thanks for the offer.” Kelsey handed over her chair, interrupting his train of thought.

      “Smart decision.” He summoned up a grin. “I may be a doctor, but I don’t want to have to treat a sprained ankle—or worse—while I’m here. Give me a sec.”

      He went back to retrieve his own chair, taking her arm as they traversed the uneven sand. At the narrow path through the grass, he let her precede him, following close behind her as she slowly made her way up the stairs.

      “Believe it or not, I used to be…in great shape.” She huffed out the comment as they reached the top.

      Despite the dim light, he could tell her cheeks were flushed from the exertion.

      “I expect you still are. Forty steps would make anyone breathe harder.”

      “They don’t seem to have taxed your lungs.”

      “They would have if I’d been carrying an extra fifteen or twenty pounds.” He tapped her chair, still slung over his shoulder. “Would you like me to take this over to your porch?”

      “No. Thank you.” She reached for it. “I can manage fine on flat ground. Good night.” Gripping the chair in one hand, she crossed the lawn and disappeared through the trees that separated their property.

      Luke stayed where he was until he saw the light in her kitchen flick on through the leafy branches. Then he turned toward the fading sunset. СКАЧАТЬ