Insight Page 19

  She read his now familiar script for the dozenth time.

  Liv,

  I’m praying for you. Please don’t worry about anything. I went over and fed Tiger a few minutes ago and he’s fine. Maggie is going to help me out at the office for a couple of days and I’m mowing your lawn tonight, so there is not one thing for you to worry about. You only have one job: take care of yourself and that baby. I’ll stop by and check on you later tonight.

  Reed

  She reached up and touched her hair. It felt matted and stringy. She must look a mess. No doubt tears had streaked her makeup and given her raccoon eyes. She tried to catch her reflection in the television that was anchored near the ceiling in the corner of the room, but in the dark screen she could only see a ghostly outline of her rounded form under the sheets. She didn’t care. She just wanted to see Reed.

  What was it about that man that had the power to make everything seem safe again? That made everything seem hopeful once more?

  As if he also had the power to grant her wish, Reed materialized in the doorway to her room. He smiled when he saw her and knocked softly, after the fact, waiting for her invitation.

  She beckoned him into the room. He came to stand at the side of her bed and reached to pat her arm. “You look worlds better than you did last time I saw you.”

  “I’ve been afraid to ask for a mirror, but ick! If this—” She pushed her hair away from her face. “—is better than I looked before, I’ve got a serious problem.”

  “You’ve got some color back in your cheeks,” he explained, patting his own cheeks. “Everything’s okay with the baby?”

  His furrowed forehead made her look to the monitor again for reassurance. It spit out a steady ribbon of graph paper. “The baby’s fine. But I’m still having some mild contractions. I guess they’re still worried I’ll go into premature labor.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t do that.”

  She smiled. “That’s the goal.”

  “I’m serious, Olivia. Don’t worry about anything. Your house, Tiger, the studio…everything is taken care of. You don’t have to worry about anything except taking care of yourself and your baby.”

  “Thank you, Reed.”

  “I…I hope you weren’t working too hard…at the studio. I hope that wasn’t the reason for—”

  “Reed. No. Of course not. This isn’t your fault! This probably would have happened whether I’d been sitting on the sofa at home or working for you. The doctor even said that. I was afraid I’d done something wrong too, but he assured me I hadn’t.”

  Reed looked at her, then took a step closer to the bed. “I’m so glad you’re all right, Liv. Or that you will be. Both of you,” he added, his gaze moving to rest on her swollen midsection.

  From the tenderness in his eyes, Olivia almost believed that he wanted to soothe the child within her the same way he was comforting her now. That if they’d had the kind of relationship that would allow it, he would lay his hand on her abdomen right this moment… Much as she’d pictured Derek doing, if he were still here.

  “I’m going to be okay, Reed.” She smoothed a hand over her the mound of her abdomen. “And so is this little one.”

  He nodded, his eyes meeting hers again. But the creases in his forehead told another story.

  Reed stared at the empty canvas and listened to the giant clock tick off the seconds. The studio was quiet. Too quiet. It seemed dim in the room. Without Olivia, a light had gone from the space.

  They’d kept her in the hospital for two days, until they were certain the contractions had abated. But now she’d been placed on strict bed rest for at least two weeks. He hadn’t even dared to broach the subject of her coming back to work. As much as he missed her presence in his studio, in his house, he would quit painting and close up his studio before he’d be responsible for her contractions starting again, or worse, Olivia losing the baby.

  He heard Maggie in the kitchen and tried to gather his wits. What needed to be done today? Olivia had taken over the menial tasks of his business so completely that he barely had to give her an assignment any more. His neighbor was a blessing in Olivia’s absence, and he enjoyed Maggie’s company. But she didn’t bring the same spark with which Olivia filled this place.

  “Good morning.” Maggie’s cheery greeting echoed from the kitchen.

  “Hey, Maggie. Is it getting hot out there?”

  She tucked a long wisp of gray hair back into her bun. “It’s miserable. Did I mention that I hate August?”

  He chuckled. “I believe you did mention that once or twice.”

  Maggie brushed her hands together and perched her reading glasses on the end of her nose. “So what’s on the docket today? You said you’d have a delivery…”

  He squirmed, and busied himself with squeezing a blob of paint onto the glass palette. “I don’t have anything ready yet.”

  “You don’t?” She stood with hands on hips, obviously seeking an explanation.

  He shrugged. “I went over and mowed Olivia’s lawn last night. I was just too wiped out to get back in the studio after I got home.” The truth was, after he finished the lawn he’d gone for sandwiches at Subway and brought them back to Olivia’s house. They’d popped in a DVD—The Sound of Music, since doctors’ orders were to not do anything that might bring on stress—and then he sat with her until almost ten-thirty so she wouldn’t be tempted to sit by herself and worry. Plus he hadn’t wanted to leave. He’d enjoyed every minute of their time together.

  But with Maggie glaring at him now, he felt like a fifth grader who’d tried to use the old the-dog-ate-my-homework excuse.

  “Well, I’m not trying to be your mother or anything, but Gilbert or Gavel or whatever-his-name-is didn’t sound like he was any too patient when he called the other day.”

  “Gavin, you mean?”

  “The guy at the St. Louis gallery.”

  He sighed. “I’ll call him this afternoon and let him know what’s up.”

  Maggie put her hands on her hips and studied him. “Just what is up, Reed?”

  “What do you mean?” His attempt at nonchalance failed miserably.

  “It’s not one iota of my business, but if I’m going to be covering for you while all your galleries wonder whether or not you’re all washed up, I think I have a right to know what’s going on.”

  “What are you trying to say, Maggie?” Sometimes this motherly routine of hers got old. He felt his defenses rising.

  She twisted a thick silver ring on her index finger. “You’re investing an awful lot of hours in a certain project that I’m not sure is going to pan out like you hope it is.”

  He glared at her. “And just how do you think I’m hoping for things to turn out?”

  That seemed to take the wind out of her sails a little. The lines of her face softened and she reached out to put a hand on his arm. “Reed, I just don’t want to see you get hurt. You haven’t known her but a few months and it looks to me like she’s by far getting the better end of the deal around here.”

  Reed didn’t have to ask who “she” was. But what had happened to the Maggie who’d encouraged him only a few weeks ago that Olivia might be ready to fall in love sooner than he thought? Why had she suddenly changed her tune? “What are you implying?” he risked.

  Maggie tugged at the short gray tufts sprouting from her head, giving her hair a spikier than usual appearance. “Reed, I know you love that woman, and I only want the best for you. You know that. But I wonder if she’s ready to return your love. It’s not like—”

  “Excuse me?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “Aren’t you the one who said—?”

  “I know what I said.” She held up a hand. “I’m just not sure who’s getting the better deal out of all this, that’s all.”

  “Why does this have to be a deal? I know you don’t think love is something to be bargained for. C’mon, Maggie.” She was starting to sound like his sister.

  “I just don’t want to see you get hur
t, Reed. You deserve better than a woman who is still grieving, a woman with nothing, a woman who is having another man’s baby.”

  He cringed inwardly to hear Olivia described that way. “Maggie, I’m a big boy. I know what I’m doing, okay? Besides, you don’t know Olivia. I’m not going to get hurt.” He was starting to sound like a broken record. Hadn’t he given his sister the same speech last time they’d talked?

  He put down his paintbrush and slid off the stool. He went to Maggie, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Tell you what. As soon as Olivia gets off bed rest, you’re coming over to meet her. Once you get to know her, you’ll see how dumb it was for us to even have this conversation.”

  Maggie laughed and shook her head. “Great. Now I’m dumb.”

  “No, no… Not you. The conversation.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Said the surly teenager,” he deadpanned.

  Maggie laughed and Reed joined in, grateful that with their laughter the tension seeped from the room.

  “It’ll take a couple days for the paint to dry, but I promise I’ll have something ready for Gavin by Monday morning.”

  Maggie went to the worktable—the table he’d come to think of as Olivia’s—and went to work assembling a new batch of stretcher boards. Between what Olivia had accumulated before she left and what Maggie built today, he would have enough to last for two years. Maybe three, if he didn’t get in gear and start painting faster.

  The thought spurred him into action and he picked up his brush again, determined to finish a piece before he went to see Olivia tonight.

  Chapter 28

  The drone of the television had become the background music of her life. Olivia sighed and groped the sofa cushions, searching for the remote. After a full week of watching nothing but the five local channels Hanover Falls had to offer, she yearned for a patch of silence—and at the same time she was starving for company.

  She’d always enjoyed any moment of solitude she could find in her life. But before Derek’s death, her alone times had been minutes snatched here and there while juggling a demanding career and a difficult marriage. Derek had often complained that she scheduled more time for being alone than she did for being with him.

  It was probably true. It made her sad now to admit it. More and more, she was realizing how selfish she’d been in their marriage. Because Derek had been the one committing the “ultimate” sin, she’d always slapped the selfish label on him. Now she had awakened to the truth of the matter. It wasn’t an easy burden to carry, especially since there was no way she could ever make amends. Oh, Derek, I’m so sorry. God, forgive me.

  She aimed the remote at the TV and clicked it off. In the sudden silence, her guilt was compounded when she realized how deeply she longed for Reed’s presence right now. He’d come over every evening since the doctor ordered her to bed, bringing her something to eat, feeding and watering Tiger, and mowing the lawn for her. Twice, he’d insisted on staying while the sprinklers ran so she wouldn’t have to get up to turn them off. She suspected that was merely an excuse for him to spend more time with her. She didn’t mind. She was as hungry for his company as he seemed to be for hers.

  She glanced toward the end table to the sketchpad and a set of watercolor paints Reed had brought her yesterday. She hadn’t mustered the energy to use them yet, but the gift touched her deeply. Reed was constantly affirming her in one way or another. And every moment of joy he gave her was paid for with another brick of guilt on the already impressive stack she carried in her heart. Guilt because Reed was practically supporting her, and now she could never work enough hours to pay him back. Guilt because she was afraid she was tacitly promising him something she wasn’t sure she could deliver emotionally.

  Worst of all, guilt because she had feelings for Reed that she’d never had for her own husband.

  She laid a hand flat on her belly and waited for the peace that now seemed to follow the simple action of touching the place where her body cradled her child. It was one very good thing that had come out of this scare with the baby.

  She was ashamed to remember how desperately she had not wanted this child in the beginning. How callous she’d felt toward Derek’s baby. At first, her pregnancy had been nothing more to her than an inconvenience, a setback. But lying in the hospital, coming to terms with the fact that she might miscarry, something changed. She began to realize that she was terrified of losing the baby.

  And it surprised her to discover that she already loved him… Or her. For some reason, she always thought of the baby as a boy. Maybe because she knew Derek had secretly longed for a son. Someone to carry on his name. And someone to share his love of baseball and motorcycles and all the other things Derek’s own father had been too busy to do with him. She wondered if it was worse for a child to grow up with a distant father, or without a father altogether. It made her sad that her baby would never know Derek. For the first time, she understood what a good daddy he might have been.

  If God allowed her to carry this baby to term and raise Derek’s child, she would be sure the child knew how much Derek had wanted and loved him—even without ever actually knowing about him. At the last sonogram, she’d decided not to find out if the baby was a boy or a girl. She wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t regret her decision. She didn’t care if she was carrying a son or a daughter, healthy or handicapped. She loved this child. And she finally understood what a gift God had given her in this pregnancy.

  She still didn’t know how she would manage to work and take care of a baby, yet still pay the bills. But then, she hadn’t known what she’d do for a job when she first moved to the Falls, and God had taken care of that, hadn’t He? And given her dear friends in the process. Claire and her family, Reed…

  She smiled, thinking of Reed. He had become a wonderful friend. Someone she could count on. He’d been so good to her through this whole scare with the baby, bringing her fast food and leftovers from his neighbor, Maggie. Heating up the casseroles that had started showing up from the church once Claire got out the word that Olivia was bedridden. Reed had taken care of a host of things for her—tasks she knew he didn’t really have time for.

  She just hoped he wasn’t doing these things for the wrong reason. That they were only done out of friendship. Or even a sense of duty because she worked for him. Either of those would have been better than what she suspected was his true motivation.

  Reed had been careful to keep the boundaries they’d talked about, and she’d tried to help him do so. But she sensed that he still had strong feelings for her.

  She wondered if he guessed how deep her feelings for him had grown. She felt herself drifting into a daydream, a fantasy that had become unnervingly frequent—where she and Reed were together and happy, where she was free to love him. Free of guilt and free of the labels of widow and single mother… and gold digger.

  Most of the time she fought against the fantasy, but tonight it was too tempting to pretend she had someone who treasured her, someone who wanted to take care of her every need. She closed her eyes and let the delusion carry her away.

  “Olivia?” Claire’s voice at the front door jarred her from the sweet thoughts. She looked up to see her friend standing on the other side of the screen.

  She pushed herself up on the sofa cushions and ran a hand over her disheveled hair. “Come on in, Claire. It’s open.”

  Claire swept into the room, a canvas tote bag on her shoulder and a cake pan in her arms. “Hi there. How’s it going?”

  “Oh, I’m fine. Getting a little tired of being so helpless, but I feel okay. I really think I could probably go back to work—”

  “Don’t you dare,” Claire said, shaking a finger in Olivia’s face.

  “Don’t worry. I’m being a good girl.”

  Claire slid the bag from her shoulder and set the pan on the end table. “From the Millinger family…at church. And I brought you some books. Thought you might be getting bored with television.”

  “
Bless you. It is getting a little lonely here.”

  “Hasn’t Reed been over today?”

  “Not yet. I’m not sure he will. I can’t expect him to come every night.”

  “Sure you can,” Claire joked. “But seriously, he is such a sweetheart. Not that I know him that well, but from what I can see, you’re lucky to have him.”

  Have him? Claire’s terminology made her cringe inside. “He’s just…being a nice boss.”

  Claire tilted her head and looked at her askance. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I think it’s a little more than him being a nice boss, Olivia.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Oh, come on. You’d have to be deaf, dumb and blind—emphasis on the dumb—to not see how Reed Vincent feels about you.”

  Olivia took in a deep breath and blew it out. “Oh, Claire, I don’t know what to do about that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know… It just doesn’t seem right. Look at me! I’m fat as a barn and—”

  Claire sat on the arm of the sofa and leaned to pat Olivia’s leg affectionately. “You’re beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.”

  Olivia wagged her head. “And…it’s not only that. I… I think the world of Reed too, but…everything about it just seems wrong. It’s too soon. Isn’t it? Derek’s only been gone for six months. Shouldn’t I still be…?” Her voice broke and the old confusion tangled her in its web. “Can I ask you something, Claire?”

  Concern creased her friend’s brow. “Sure. Anything.”

  “Is it…? Do I have the right to feel something for Reed that I…never even felt for my husband?”

  Claire’s eyes widened and her brows lifted in question.

  Olivia sighed and nodded. “It’s true. Things weren’t…they weren’t like that with Derek and me.”