Beth felt groggy and sick, and she wanted to tell Finn that she wasn’t his honey, not in any way, yet the endearment got under her skin before she could stop it, making her feel warm inside.
He’d called her that before, when she’d been in his arms, and she’d liked it then too because it had been a long time since anyone had called her anything other than just Beth.
In fact, he made her feel warm inside, which she hadn’t expected given the hard, intense look in his eyes when he’d asked her if she was pregnant.
She so hadn’t wanted to tell him, yet he was far too perceptive and far more interested in her well-being that she’d ever thought he’d be, and she hadn’t been able to hide it from him. All she had left was to admit it and bear the consequences.
She hadn’t realized she’d been bracing herself for his anger and displeasure until it hadn’t come. Because that was usually the reaction her family had to any announcement she made. Her emotionally unstable mother would always react negatively, which would then feed into her father’s constant anger at his family and life in general.
He wasn’t violent, never lashed out at anyone, but the constant aura of rage was difficult to live with, making her feel as if she were living in a glass house, afraid one wrong move would bring the whole thing crashing down.
It had been a relief to move out and live with Troy, who at least wasn’t angry all the time. But he had his own issues. He hadn’t been able to deal with hard emotions, and when things were fraught, he’d simply leave.
She hadn’t known what she’d get with Finn, but his warm, strong fingers threading through hers and his deep, calm voice telling her they needed to talk wasn’t it.
He hadn’t been angry, hadn’t shouted, and he hadn’t left either. He’d been calm and measured, dealing with it very matter-of-factly, his certainty and strength soothing her ragged nerves, so she didn’t even want to protest as he’d led her inside and tucked her up on the sofa, telling her to get some rest.
She hadn’t thought she would, since she hadn’t been able to before, yet for some reason, now that Finn was in the house, filling it up with the strength of his steady presence, she could relax and let her exhausted brain sleep.
It’s good to know you don’t have to do this by yourself, right?
No, she couldn’t start thinking stuff like that. She’d thought Troy would be a great support since he was as unlike her family as it was possible to get, yet when she’d needed him most, he’d left. After she’d lost the baby, he’d withdrawn, and then when she’d fallen into depression, he’d just…gone.
Most everyone did, either physically or emotionally. The only person she’d ever been able to count on was herself, and she couldn’t go blindly trusting that Finn Kelly would stick around to help. Some things you did have to do all on your own.
Slowly, Beth sat up, drawing the blanket more firmly around her as Finn went over to the coffee table and picked up the bowl and spoon sitting on top of it.
The room was full of the delicate, savory scent of chicken soup, and her stomach cramped, deciding it was hungry and that chicken soup was the perfect meal.
“First, you need to eat.” Finn came over to her holding out the bowl and spoon. “Then we’ll talk about where we go from here.”
Beth considered protesting, then decided she didn’t have the energy, taking the bowl and spoon from him without argument. “You’re just like Chase,” she grumbled. “So bossy.” Finn didn’t say anything to that, so she added, for good measure, “Stupid Kellys.” Then she eyed the soup warily, because although she did feel hungry, her stomach was still unsettled.
“It’s chicken soup,” Finn said, going into classic dude pose with his thumbs hooked into his belt loops. “It’s good for upset stomachs.”
Beth glanced at him in surprise, since she hadn’t picked Finn as a man who even knew what chicken soup was, let alone how to cook it.
Are you kidding? If any of those guys knows how to cook chicken soup, it’s Finn.
“You made this?” she asked, just to be sure.
“Yeah, it’s a specialty of mine.” An expression she couldn’t interpret flickered briefly across his face, like wind ruffling the water of a still pond. “I…used to make it for Sheri when she was sick.”
Sympathy wound through her, threaded with a curiosity that pulled suddenly tight.
Sheri, his wife. The wife he didn’t talk about.
“Oh.” She wanted to ask all kinds of questions, but that wasn’t a great idea. He probably wouldn’t welcome them. And this was, after all, hardly the time to be asking questions about the wife he’d lost. “And she…uh…liked it?”
“Yeah, she did.” Finn’s dark gaze was on the bowl on her knees, his expression distant. “I made it for her when she was having chemo and feeling sick.”
Sympathy throbbed in Beth’s chest. Yes, that’s right, he’d lost her to cancer, hadn’t he?
Which means you can hardly spurn the soup he made for his dead wife.
Not that she was going to spurn it, but even if she’d been feeling really sick, she wouldn’t.
“I’m sure it’s delicious.” Beth carefully dipped her spoon into the steaming liquid and brought it to her mouth, taking a sip.
Holy cow, yes, it was delicious.
“Oh,” she breathed, suddenly ravenous. “Your wife wasn’t wrong. This is really, really good.”
Finn said nothing, but a faint, pleased smile curved his mouth as he watched her eat, his dark gaze enigmatic.
When she’d eaten half of it, he asked, “Feeling better?”
She nodded. The delicate, salty, savory taste of the soup had been divine and not too heavy, settling her uneasy stomach down nicely.
She took another couple of spoonfuls before she finally let Finn take the bowl away, returning it to the coffee table.
Then he sat down beside her on the sofa, engulfing her in his warmth and the delicious smell of sunshine, horse, and Finn’s intrinsic musky, masculine scent.
It reminded her of things that she shouldn’t be thinking about. Things that had gotten her into this mess to start with, and she wanted to pull away. But she also didn’t want him to know he still had an effect on her, even a month after their little interlude, so she stayed put.
God, why hadn’t she moved on from that already?
“Okay,” he said, leaning forward, elbows on his knees, fingers loosely laced together. “So, like I said, we take this one step at a time. And the first step is getting a pregnancy test done.”
We, he’d said. As if this wasn’t only her responsibility. As if he was sharing in it too, which was another thing she hadn’t expected.
Come on, you know he’s a guy who takes his responsibilities seriously.
Okay, so that was undeniable. And maybe, now she thought about it, that was why she hadn’t wanted to tell him. Because he would take responsibility and she wasn’t sure if she wanted him stepping in and being all up in her grill.
He wasn’t as openly take-charge as Chase, usually standing staunchly and quietly in the background, watching people. But it didn’t mean he didn’t have a strong will in him or an intent to use it when the situation called for it. And given his ordering her to eat the soup, the situation was definitely calling for it now.
But this was her responsibility too. He could walk away at any time, but she couldn’t, and she really didn’t want him coming in and calling all the shots.
Unless you decide not to have the baby, of course.
As if he’d read her mind, Finn said, “If you’re pregnant, will you want the baby?”
There was zero judgment in his tone, yet much to Beth’s horror, from out of nowhere came a rush of unexpected grief, tears filling her eyes. She looked away quickly, hoping he wouldn’t notice.
Yet he must have, the asshole, because he asked softly, “What’s up?”
She didn’t want to talk about it, not now, yet she knew lying or even pretending that there was nothing wrong wasn’t going to cut it anymore. Not with him.
He was far too perceptive. He saw through her in a way no one else did and she wasn’t sure why. It was extremely annoying, not to mention painful, since it made her more aware of all the things she was trying to leave behind, the things that kept dogging her no matter how much distance she put between them and her, or how hard she tried to forget them.
Finn shifted, and before she could snatch it away, he put one of his large, warm capable hands over hers where it rested on her knee.
It’ll be okay, he’d said to her just before her nap earlier, touching her cheek, his fingertips sending trails of fire over her skin. And she’d been conscious of something tight and sore inside her relaxing at the immense certainty she’d heard in his voice. As if there was no doubt in his mind that it would be okay. As if he’d make sure of it.
She’d needed that certainty then, and with the warmth of his hand over hers, she needed it just as badly now.
“I’ve been pregnant before,” she forced out, since she was going to have to tell him at some stage and it might as well be now. “And it…didn’t end well.”
He said nothing, and for the first time it occurred to her that he wasn’t a stranger to grief and loss. That if anyone knew how hard it made things, he would.
He hadn’t lost a baby, but he’d lost his wife. He’d lost, period.
Beth swallowed and made herself tell him the rest. “She was born at twenty weeks and didn’t make it. It was a few years ago now, so I’m mostly okay. But this is…well, it brings up some stuff.”
Again, he said nothing, only kept his hand over hers in a way that made part of her ache. The same way she’d ached when he’d touched her cheek, as if some piece of her was desperate for reassurance and a warm touch, some contact that didn’t involve her having to pretend everything was great all the time.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she said into the silence. “And I’d rather you didn’t mention it to anyone else because no one else knows. I thought that…given the circumstances, you should be aware.”
After a moment, he said, “Thank you for telling me,” and squeezed her hand briefly before letting it go. “You’ll want to keep this baby, then?”
Her hand felt cold, and she had to restrain the urge to reach over and grab his again, making do with folding her own together instead.
“Yes,” she said, staring at the floor, the realization settling inside her like the ground settling after an earthquake. “I do.”
And she did. Now the shock was wearing off and reality was asserting itself, she understood there was no question about it. She was still terrified and uncertain about what it would mean for her and her future, but she did want this baby and fiercely.
“Okay,” Finn said as if it was no big deal. “We’ll get a test. We should do that ASAP. It’ll mean a trip to Queenstown, but that shouldn’t be a problem. Levi’s going tomorrow to pick up some tourists, so we can tag along.”
She glanced at him. “But aren’t you taking a trek?”
“Yeah, but Chase can take it. Or we can cancel it. It’s not a problem.”
“Or you don’t have to come,” she pointed out. “Believe it or not, I can buy a pregnancy test on my own.”
“Sure you can.” He pushed himself off the couch and went over to the coffee table to pick up the bowl and spoon. “But you’re not going to.”
His insistence needled at her for reasons she didn’t understand and didn’t have the energy to examine right now.
“Why?” she muttered grumpily. “I don’t need your assistance.”
Finn straightened and turned around. The expression on his strongly carved, handsome face was mild, but the glitter in his dark eyes was not.
“Here’s the deal,” he said. “This is not solely your responsibility. I’m a part of this too, and if you’re expecting me to stand back and let you handle this on your own, you’re going to be disappointed. That’s not how I operate.”
There it was, that will of his—tough as iron and just as certain. It made part of her want to argue, to see how far she could push him, see where his line was, while another part wanted to throw up her hands and let him take charge so she didn’t have to.
Not that anyone could push Finn Kelly once he’d made up his mind about something, she suspected. Chase had even muttered on more than one occasion that the guy was mule-stubborn when he wanted to be, and Beth guessed she was looking at the mule right now.
So why bother arguing? He was part of this, and actually the only reason she wanted to handle it on her own was because she was afraid to trust that anyone would stay.
But Finn Kelly wasn’t going to go anywhere. He owned a business with his brother and he owned this horse ranch. He had a house here, and if his wife hadn’t passed away, he’d likely have had a family here too.
Plus he had the same strong sense of community responsibility that his brother did and a tendency to be an immovable object to any unstoppable force that came his way.
He wasn’t emotionally fragile, like her mother, or coldly raging, like her father, and he wasn’t avoidant, like Troy. He could have ignored her illness, let her pretend nothing was up, and gone about his business, yet he hadn’t. He’d come after her and insisted she tell him what the problem was.
Asshole.
“Okay,” she said, actually throwing up her hands. “Fine. Do that then. I don’t care. I just don’t want anyone else to know, okay? Not until I have to tell them.”
“We,” he amended irritatingly. “We have to tell them.”
“You. Me. We. Whatever.”
His gaze narrowed, and she was aware that whatever was going on behind those enigmatic dark eyes, it probably wasn’t something she’d like.
“What are you thinking about now?” she demanded.
“If the test comes back positive,” he said, “I want people to know.”
Beth scowled. “There’s no point, not until twelve weeks. Anything could happen before that.”
“I still want people to know.”
“Why?” she asked, exasperated.
“Because I’m thinking you should move in with me, that’s why.”
***
Beth’s eyes went wide, and he didn’t blame her. This would be a shock. But hell, it made perfect sense to him.
She wasn’t having a great time of it, and she could do with someone taking care of her, most especially given what she’d told him about her earlier pregnancy.
He was glad she’d told him, even though he could tell she didn’t want to.
Even though he heard the pain in her voice loud and clear.
Even though it set off a sympathetic echo inside him too, making him think about Sheri and his own grief.
It clarified a few things for him though.
He’d always thought her cheerfulness and positivity was fake, and he wondered now whether she wore it like a mask to cover up the pain of losing her baby. And surely, no matter how long it had been, there was still pain.
Time might blunt the edges, but it didn’t heal it. Nothing healed it. You only learned to live with it, that’s all.
He knew how it felt to pretend though, to keep on pushing through because that’s all you could do. The only thing you could do.
His preferred method of pretending was to simply never speak of his own grief or Sheri. That way people forgot to ask him how he was doing and gradually stopped giving him concerned, pitying looks. Being silent tended to deter questions anyway.
But his way of dealing with it was a mask, just as Beth’s was.
And while he didn’t absolutely need her to move in with him, he knew himself. He knew that he wouldn’t be happy if she was living here on her own, even if she did have Indigo. He wanted her close so he could keep an eye on her himself.
She’s yours now…
The possessive feeling wound tightly around him, though he tried to ignore it. Because he didn’t want to start thinking like that. It was more him wanting her to be close so if she got into trouble, he’d be there. He’d worry about her otherwise, and he’d worry about the baby.
His baby.
He gritted his teeth as the feeling became even stronger. Sure, the baby was his, but nothing was certain. Hell, both of them knew how easy it was to lose something. Miscarriages happened all the time.
“Move in with you?” Beth yelped. “Are you insane? I mean, actually insane?”
“No.” He tried to sound as reasonable as possible and not like a carbon copy of his brother giving orders. “Think about it. You wouldn’t have to worry about driving Indigo up and down to town all the time, and you’d have someone to look after you when you’re sick. It would make it easier when it comes to organizing doctor’s visits and—”
“Finn,” Beth interrupted, “we don’t even know if this is going to be happening or not, so please, take it down a notch.”
The way she said it, as if she were speaking to an overexcited child, irritated him, making him want to dig in. Because regardless of what he was telling himself about uncertainties and wait-and-sees, he had a gut feeling that this was going to be happening. They were going to have a child together, and in nine months’ time, he would be holding that baby in his arms. There was certainly no other reason for him to be feeling so…Neanderthal about it.
He was going to be a father. He was going to have a child. And while it wasn’t with the woman he’d thought he’d end up with, he was still going to have one. They would be a family.
The possessiveness shifted, became certain and sure, making Finn realize that he had strong feelings about what that family would look like.
His own mother had died when he was young, his father passing off his responsibilities to his two sons immediately after her death, which had made for a difficult childhood. His father had spent more time and money in the pub than he had at home, and sometimes Chase had been forced to beg Bill for food when they’d been kids because their father had forgotten to buy any.
Finn didn’t want that for any kid of his. He didn’t want to put a child through having to bring themselves up because their parents were gone, either physically or emotionally. Nope. No way in hell that was happening, not if he had anything to do with it.
He’d be there for them, and he wanted Beth to be there for them too.
They both would be.
So no, he would not take it down a notch.
Finn stared at her, debating whether to let her know what his line in the sand was now or to wait for a better time. He was in favor of now, but since she still looked pale and the conversation they were having was a difficult one anyway, he probably didn’t need to make things worse by insisting on something she’d need time to come to terms with.
He’d pick his battles and right now wasn’t the time for one.
So all he said was “Okay. We’ll talk about it later. The most important thing is getting that test done, so we know what’s happening.”
Beth’s green eyes narrowed, obviously picking up on the fact that she was being placated. “What do you mean we’ll talk about it later? What if I want to talk about it now?”
Finn opened his mouth to tell her that they would not be talking about it now, not when she was still looking so pale, when he heard a car pulling into the gravel turnaround outside. Karl gave an excited-sounding yip in greeting.
Car doors slammed, then the front door opened.
“I know you didn’t want a ride,” Levi’s voice drifted down the hallway. “So if you didn’t want a ride, why did you get into my truck? Oh hey, Karl. How are you doing, boy?”
In hindsight, it was lucky Indigo appeared in the hall outside the living room doorway because it was obvious Beth wasn’t going to let the whole moving-in thing slide, no matter how unwell she was feeling. And if she’d kept on at him about it, things would have no doubt degenerated into an argument.
So he let it go as Beth glanced at Indigo, who’d turned to glare at someone coming through the front door.
No, not “someone.” Levi.
“I got into your truck because you’d have driven alongside me all the way up to the farmhouse,” Indigo snapped. “And quite frankly, I wanted to get rid of you as quickly as possible.”
“That’s not true.” Levi’s tall figure came into view, an excited Karl nosing at his hand for a scratch. “I wouldn’t have driven alongside you. I would have driven behind you, keeping a respectful distance.”
Indigo looked like she was going to reply, then obviously aware of the fact that Finn and Beth were staring at her and Levi through the doorway, she shut her mouth, glancing at them and blushing.
“Oh,” she muttered. “You’re both here.” Throwing Levi a dark look, she came into the room, her expression clearing as she approached the couch where Beth sat. “Hey, are you okay? Migraine gone?”
Beth gave her friend her usual “I’m okay” smile, the one Finn had always thought was fake as hell and still was as far as he could see. “Yeah, it’s getting better.”
Indigo frowned; she wasn’t fooled by Beth’s smile either. Then that frown deepened into yet another scowl as Levi strolled in behind her, Karl frisking happily at his heels.
“Hey, you two,” Levi said casually. “Indy was telling me you’re not well, Beth.”
“Oh my God,” Indigo muttered. “My name is not Indy.”
“Sorry, Indigo, I mean.” Levi lounged against the arm of the couch, looking very pleased with himself. “My bad.”
That there was something going on between Indigo and Levi, and had been ever since Indigo, Beth, and Izzy had arrived in Brightwater Valley, was obvious. Levi could be a pest sometimes, because there was nothing he liked more than winding people up. But he always backed off when people asked him to, especially when it came to women.
But for some reason, he couldn’t seem to leave Indigo alone, and while she was, on the surface, grumpy as hell with him, she nevertheless always seemed to be around him. Finn was certain she even put herself purposefully in his way.
Finn wasn’t sure what was up with the two of them and he really wasn’t interested, but it was good timing Levi was here, since he and Beth were planning on hitching a ride with him tomorrow.
“You still doing a pickup tomorrow?” Finn asked him as Indigo fussed around Beth.
Levi’s gaze was firmly on Indigo, as if he couldn’t bear to look away from her for even a second. “Yeah, definitely.”
“Good. Beth and I need a ride if that’s okay.”
“No problem.” Levi glanced at him and grinned, though his gaze was suddenly very sharp. “Got a hot date?”
“No.” Finn refused to rise to the bait. “Beth has some suppliers to meet and I need to start asking around to find a permanent manager for this place.”
Not actual lies. Well, at least not on his end. He did need to find a stable manager, plus there were going to be a few issues to iron out if Beth was to move in with him.
“Uh-huh.” Levi’s gaze turned speculative, then he glanced at Beth, which made the back of Finn’s neck prickle for no apparent reason.
Levi knew nothing about him getting together with Beth, and he certainly wouldn’t be able to guess the real reason he and Beth were going to Queenstown, so why Finn felt antsy he had no idea.
“What did you do to Indigo?” Finn asked to distract him. “She looks like she wants your guts for garters.”
“Nothing.” Levi’s expression was all innocence. “I simply had the temerity to offer her a ride up to the farmhouse.” His hazel eyes flicked back once more to Indigo, who was now gazing down at Beth, looking concerned. “She kept saying no, yet she got in my truck anyway.”
Indigo shot him a baleful glance. “Haven’t we had this discussion?”
“It looked like it might rain.” Levi grinned at her. “I didn’t think you’d want to get wet.”
Finn noted with interest that despite her bad temper, Indigo was blushing fiercely.
“Can you two take it outside?” Beth murmured, rubbing tiredly at her forehead. “The sexual tension in here is making my head ache.”
“Sexual tension?” Indigo squawked. “What are you talking about? There’s absolutely zero sexual tension. What you’re feeling is probably testosterone poisoning from all the posturing from that idiot over there.”
“Seriously?” Levi said rather unwisely. “Okay, first, I’m not an idiot. Second, while it’s true that I do posture at times, I’m not actually doing it right now. And third, you love a bit of testosterone, don’t deny it.”
Since things were probably only going to go downhill from there, Finn decided to take charge, moving over to the couch and gently urging Indigo away while giving Levi a very direct “cut it out” look.
“You heard the lady,” Finn said. “How about we give her some space?”
Indigo let out a breath and shot Beth another concerned look. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s fine,” Beth interrupted with another of those fake smiles. “I’m just tired. I’ll be okay tomorrow.”
“Come on.” Finn herded the other two out of the living room and whistled at Karl, who followed. “Let’s leave her to rest. There’s chicken soup in the kitchen if you’re hungry, by the way.”
“Chicken soup?” Levi gave him a sharp look as they walked down the hallway. “You’ve been making her chicken soup?”
Levi had been in Brightwater Valley for nearly ten years. Chase had met him in the SAS, and when Chase had left the army, so had Levi. And when Chase had come home to Brightwater Valley, so had Levi. He had no family and having been kicked around in the system as a foster kid, Brightwater was the only real home he’d ever known.
Finn knew Levi thought of him and Chase as his brothers, and for all that Levi could be a pain in the ass sometimes, the feeling was mutual. Being a pain in the ass was pretty much mandatory for brothers anyway. Besides, Levi could fly anything with a propellor, was a magician when it came to engines, the clients loved him, and he’d lay down his life for his friends and the community here.
He’d also known Sheri, had viewed her as a sister-in-law, and was well aware of the significance of the damn chicken soup. And Finn was kicking himself for having mentioned it, because Levi, being the annoying brother type, would now imagine there was importance attached to it where certainly none had been intended.
Importance attached to Beth too, which he was not pleased about.
He shoved away his irritation and merely lifted a shoulder. “It’s just soup, Levi. No big deal.”
“Seems like a big deal to me,” Levi said. “Especially the way you’re fussing around her like a mother hen. What’s really going on?”
“Nothing. If we’re going to talk about people fussing around other people, I could ask you what the hell you’re doing with Indigo.” He lifted a brow. “Or is that a conversation you’d rather have in the heli tomorrow?”
Levi grinned widely, then threw a companionable arm across Finn’s shoulders. “Tell you what, bro. Let’s never speak of either of these two things again, okay?”
Interesting. Normally Levi loved nothing better than to wax lyrical about whichever woman of the moment he was interested in, and it was very unlike him to not want to talk about it.
It half made Finn want to push, but since he really didn’t want to talk about why he was fussing around with Beth, all he said was “Deal.”
And went into the kitchen to dole out some soup.