Carolyne Aarsen - The Baby Promise

His crooked grin seemed at odds with his rough and rugged demeanor, but obviously she was forgiven. “I think you’re allowed to be,” he said with a touch of consideration.

Beth held his gaze a moment, surprised at his tone. Not what she’d expect from a friend of Jim.

“You both just sit down. We’ll do the dishes later,” Ellen said. “Beth, why don’t you tell us what the doctor told you this afternoon? We don’t get to see much of you, so it’s nice to catch up.”

“Everything is progressing the way it should,” Beth reported, repressing another surge of guilt at her mother-in-law’s muted reprimand. “But he wants to see me in a couple of days again, though I don’t know why.”

“I’m sure he just wants to keep his eye on you, given what you’ve had to deal with.” Ellen gave her a gentle smile.

“But you’re feeling okay?” Bob asked, a touch of concern in his voice.

“I saw your light on at twelve o’clock last night,” Ellen said. “Were you having a hard time sleeping, my dear?”

“I usually do,” was all Beth said.

They didn’t need to know she stayed up until two o’clock taking apart the cards she had already made, rethinking designs and colors all to impress an absent boss. Like Jim, Bob and Ellen didn’t understand how she could spend so much time on her “little hobby,” as Jim had called it, so she didn’t talk about it in front of them.

Bob leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his worn plaid shirt. “So things are okay for you, Beth?”

“Just fine.” An awkward silence followed her brief comment and Beth looked down at her clenched hands resting on her stomach. She felt Nick watching her and wished she could leave.

During the entire meal he’d been giving her sympathetic smiles. Poor dead Jim’s pregnant widow.

A surefire combination for pity. But she didn’t want his or anyone else’s pity. She just wanted to get on with her life. And having Jim’s friend around wasn’t helping. Especially a friend who constantly talked about Jim as if he was a devoted husband and excited father-to-be.

Beth shot a nervous glance at the clock. Her brother had told her that she had to call him at seven-thirty on the dot if she wanted to connect with him. It was seven-fifteen. Time to go.

She pushed her chair back and ponderously got to her feet. “I’m sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me,” she said, shooting a quick glance around the table. “I have to make an important phone call.”

Ellen frowned her curiosity, but Beth wasn’t about to tell her that her conversation with her brother was about her moving off the ranch and into his apartment in Vancouver.

She knew the Carrutherses expected her to stay on the ranch indefinitely, but she couldn’t. Especially now that Jim was gone. She had to get on with her life and away from the memories.

“I’ll walk you to the house,” Bob said, making a move to get up.

“No. There’s no need.” Beth raised her hand to stop him. “You keep visiting with Nick. I’ll be fine.”

“I’ll walk her to the house,” Nick said, standing up and pushing his chair under the table.

She should have quit while she was ahead, Beth thought. She did not want to spend any more time with Nick than she had to. She was tired of smiling at his stories about Jim, tired of how impressed Nick was with Jim’s supposed devotion to her.

“I’m okay. Really,” Beth protested again.

“I’m sure you are, but it’s dark and slippery,” Nick said, coming around the table. “And I promised Jim I’d look out for you.”

Beth stifled another protest. Going along with his chivalry was the best way to get through this. He would be gone tonight. Soon she’d be living in Vancouver and Nick and Jim and the Carruthers family would be part of her past.

“Thanks so much for dinner,” she said to Ellen. “It was delicious.”

“You can come anytime, you know,” Ellen said, a hopeful note in her voice.

“I don’t want to impose.”

And before they could tell her yet again that her presence would never be an imposition, she walked out of the kitchen. Waddled, more like.

All the way to the entrance she was far too aware of Nick looming behind her. She quickened her pace, but in spite of his limp he moved surprisingly quick. He had moved past her, pulling her coat off the rack in the entryway. A protest sprang to her lips, but it was probably better, for now, to simply put up with all his hovering.

As he lifted her coat up over her shoulders, his fingers brushed her neck. A tiny shiver danced down her spine and Beth jerked away.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice gruff. “Just trying to help.”

“It’s okay.” She murmured her automatic reply, wondering why she felt so jumpy around him. Probably because she fell short of his expectations of the grieving widow.

Not much she could do about that. She had shed more tears before Jim died than after.

A brisk wind howled around the yard as they stepped out from the shelter of the trees. Beth pulled her coat closer around her, shivering.

“Are you warm enough?” Nick asked as he walked alongside her, his footsteps crunching on the dry snow.

She wasn’t, because her coat was too small and could barely close around her stomach. She didn’t want to spend money on another one when she would be moving to a warmer city soon. So she just shivered through the cold.

“I’m plenty warm enough.”

They walked in silence toward her house. In the distance a coyote sent a howl up to the sliver of moon hanging just above the mountains. Stars were scattered bits of light in the inky-black sky above them. She felt her tension ease away in the presence of all this peace and beauty.

As much as this place held bad memories, she knew she would miss it. The peaceful quiet was a welcome antidote to the emotions warring in her soul.

“So how are you managing?” Nick asked as he limped alongside her, his hands in his pockets. “With Jim gone?”

“I’m okay.”

“And financially?”

“I’ve got my…widow’s pension and I work part-time in a craft store in town. I used to work as a waitress until my boss told me I had to quit.” She worked both places for minimum wage, but every penny was deposited into her escape fund.

Only, now she didn’t have to escape anymore. Jim had left her before she could leave him.

“I know I said it before,” Nick continued. “But I’m really sorry for your loss. I’m sure it’s…hard. What with the baby and all,” he said, his voice a rough sound in the quiet evening. “I know Jim looked forward to seeing you again and the baby, of course. Being a family again.”

Beth suppressed a burst of anger. Being a family hadn’t been high on Jim’s list of priorities before he left.

“I’m sure he was,” was her noncommittal reply.

They came to the darkened house and Beth shivered again, her steps slowing. She’d forgotten to turn on a light before she’d left for the Carrutherses’ house. She hated coming home to a dark place.

It meant no one was home and she would be all alone again.

She climbed the single stair to the front door and turned to Nick. In spite of gaining half a foot, she still had to look up at him.

He was good-looking enough and Beth wondered again why he was single. She knew from the few letters Jim had sent home that his friend was thirty-four and had never been married.

Why was she thinking about him? His life was none of her concern. He would be gone by tomorrow and in a week, if all went well, so would she.

“Thanks for walking me back to the house,” she said. “I think I can manage from here.”

Nick shifted his weight to his other foot and hunched his shoulders as he released a heavy sigh. “Beth…I feel wrong being here…just me. Jim always said he wanted to bring me to see his parents’ place, bring me to meet you…” His voice faltered. Then he coughed and composed himself. “I’m so sorry. I wish I could make things better. When…when Jim was dying, he asked me to tell you that he loved you. That he was sorry.”