Page 44 of Summer Weddings

His heart reacted with a wild burst of staccato beats. He poured her a mug, grabbing a fresh one for himself. His movements were jerky, and he realized it was because he felt afraid that if he didn’t finish the task quickly enough, she might change her mind.

He carried the mugs into the living room and sat across from her.

At first their conversation was awkward, but gradually the tension eased.

He was astonished by how much they had to talk about.

Books, movies, politics. Children. Police work.

Life in Alaska. They shared myriad opinions and stories and observations.

It was as though all the difficulties between them had been wiped out and they were starting over.

Mitch laughed. He felt warm and relaxed, trusting. Alive. She seemed curious about his past, but her occasional questions were friendly, not intrusive. And she didn’t probe for more information than he was willing—or able—to give her.

He brought out a large photo album and sat next to her on the sofa, with the album resting partially on his lap and partially on hers. Mitch turned the pages, explaining each picture.

He wondered what Bethany thought about the gap in his past. It was as if their lives—his and Chrissie’s—had started when they came to Hard Luck. There wasn’t a single photograph taken any earlier than that. Not one picture of Lori.

He turned a page and his hand inadvertently brushed hers. He hadn’t meant to touch her, but when he did, it was as if something exploded inside him. For long seconds, neither moved.

Slowly Mitch’s gaze went to hers. Instead of accusation, he found approval, instead of anger, acceptance. He released his breath, tired of fighting a battle he couldn’t win. With deliberate movements, he closed the photo album and set it aside.

“Mitch?”

“We’ll talk later,” he whispered. He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and gently pulled her forward. He needed this. Ached for this.

He kissed her slowly, sweetly, teasing her lips until her head rolled back against the cushion in abject surrender.

“Mitch…” She tried once more.

He stopped her from speaking by placing his finger against her moist lips. “We both know Chrissie manipulated this meeting.”

She frowned.

“She’s no sicker than you or I.”

Bethany blinked.

“Let’s humor her.”

Her eyes darkened. “Let’s,” she agreed, and wound her arms around his neck.

* * *

“Thank you so much for coming,” Bethany said to Ben. It had taken a lot to convince him to speak to her students.

Ben had resisted, claiming he wasn’t comfortable with children, never having had any himself. But in the end Bethany’s persistence had won out.

“You did a great job,” she told him.

Ben blushed slightly. “I did, didn’t I?” He walked around the room and patted the top of each desk as if remembering who had sat where.

“The children loved hearing about your job,” she told him. “And about your life in the navy.”

“They certainly had lots of questions.”

Bethany didn’t mention that she’d primed them beforehand. She hadn’t had to encourage them much; they were familiar with Ben and fascinated by him.

Bethany wasn’t especially proud of the somewhat devious method she’d used to learn what she could of Ben’s past. Still, inviting him to speak to her students was certainly legitimate; he wasn’t the only community member she’d asked to do so.

Dotty had been in the week before, and Sawyer O’Halloran had agreed to come after Thanksgiving.

She found herself studying Ben now, looking for hints of her own appearance, her own personality.

“Haven’t seen much of you lately,” he said, folding his arms. He half sat on one of the desks in the front row. “Used to be you’d stop in once a day, and we’d have a nice little chat.”

“I’ve been busy lately.” In the past week, she’d been seeing a lot of Mitch and Chrissie.

“I kinda miss our talks,” Ben muttered.

“Me, too,” Bethany admitted. It was becoming increasingly difficult, she discovered, to talk to Ben about personal things.

Her fear was that she’d inadvertently reveal their relationship.

The temptation to tell him grew stronger with each meeting, something she hadn’t considered when she’d decided to find him.

Ben stared at her a moment as if he wasn’t sure he should go on. “I thought I saw you with Mitch Harris the other day.” It was more question than statement.

She nodded. “He drove me to the library.” He’d said he didn’t want her walking. The piercing cold continued, but temperatures weren’t as low as they’d been earlier in the week. Bethany could easily have trekked the short distance; Mitch’s driving her was an excuse—one she’d readily accepted.

“Are you two seeing each other now?”

Bethany hesitated.

“I don’t mean to pry,” Ben said, studying her. “You can tell me it’s none of my damn business if you want, and I won’t take offense. It’s just that I get customers now and again who’re curious about you.”

“Like who?”

“Like Bill Landgrin.”

“Oh.” It embarrassed her no end that she’d had dinner with the pipeline worker. He’d phoned her several times since, and the conversations had been uncomfortable. Not because of anything Bill said or did, but because she’d gone out with him for all the wrong reasons.

Bethany walked from behind her desk and over to the blackboard. “I don’t know what to tell you about Mitch and me,” she said, picking up the eraser.

Ben’s face softened with sympathy. “You sound confused.”

“I am.” It was easy to understand why people so often shared confidences with Ben; he was a good listener, never meddlesome and always encouraging.

With anyone else, Bethany would have skirted around the subject of her and Mitch, but she felt a connection with Ben—one that reached beyond the reasons she’d come to Hard Luck.

It wasn’t just a connection created by her secret knowledge.

Since her arrival, Ben had become her friend.

That surprised her; she hadn’t expected to like him this much.

“I’m afraid I’m falling in love with Mitch,” she said in a breathless voice.

“Afraid?”

She lowered her gaze and nodded. “I don’t think he feels the same way about me.”

“Why’s that?” Ben leaned forward.

“He doesn’t want to be attracted to me. Every time I feel we’re getting close, he backs away. There’s a huge part of himself he keeps hidden. He’s never discussed Chrissie’s mother. I’ve never really questioned him about her or about his life before he moved to Hard Luck, and he never volunteers.”

Ben rubbed one side of his face. “But we all have our secrets, don’t you think?”

Bethany nodded and swallowed uncomfortably. She certainly had hers.

“Mitch lost his wife, the mother of his child. I don’t know the details but whatever happened, it cut deep.

I can tell you because I was living here when Mitch and Chrissie first showed up.

Mitch was a wounded soul. He’s kept to himself.

He’s been here more than five years, and I’ve hardly ever seen him smile.

Until now… You’re good for him and Chrissie. Real good.”

“He and Chrissie would be easy to love.”

“But you’re afraid.”

She nodded.

“Seems to me you two’ve come a long way in a short time. I could be wrong, but not so long ago all you did was send these yearning looks at each other. Now you’re actually talking, spending time together.” He paused. “I heard he told Bill Landgrin a thing or two recently.”

“Mitch did?”

Ben grinned broadly. “Not in any words I’d care to repeat in front of a lady, mind you. Seems to me he wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t serious about you himself. Give him time, Bethany. Yourself, too. You’ve been here less than three months.”

Bethany exhaled. “Thank you for listening—and for your advice.”

“No problem,” Ben said. “It was my pleasure.”

Smiling, she closed the distance between them and kissed his rough cheek.

Ben flushed and pressed his hand to his face.

She felt so much better, and not just because Ben had given her good advice. He’d said the things her own father would’ve said.

The irony of that didn’t escape her.