Movie night was just as adorable as Beth thought it would be.
Deck chairs, old armchairs, stools, pub chairs, dining chairs—just about any chair you could think of—had been hauled onto the grassy bank by the lake, all of them facing a giant projector screen on a stand. Long extension cords powered the projector and DVD player that had also been brought out, the cords running directly across the main street and into HQ, which was the closest building with a power outlet.
People sat chatting as the long, late-summer twilight lay over the town, the air still warm, the sky still a deep blue but now tinged with the pinks and oranges of what looked to be a truly beautiful sunset.
A cooler of drinks had been brought out, Jim managing the distribution, while Cait was doing a roaring trade in cooked sausages wrapped in slices of bread and topped with tomato sauce—the kiwi version of a hotdog.
There was lots of laughter and much discussion about how to get the DVD player working with the projector, something that was clearly Levi’s territory since he was crouched in front of it, steadfastly ignoring all the suggestions called to him from various townsfolk.
Izzy, Indigo, and Beth were sitting on an old couch that Chase and Levi had carried out of HQ just for them, which had resulted in cries of “no fair,” to which Chase had merely responded that it was for Gus. No one minded Gus having a special seat, but it was noted that there seemed to be more than enough room for Gus and Izzy and her friends as well.
It was all in good fun. Kiwis, Beth noted, enjoyed teasing people they liked; the more they liked you, the more they teased. In fact, judging from the way they teased her, Izzy, and Indigo, it must mean they were held in very high esteem.
“So how are you feeling?” Izzy asked her companionably as the three of them sat together on the sofa. Gus had gone off to beg yet another sausage from Cait, while Indigo and Izzy were cradling cold shandies—half lemonade, half beer.
Beth stuck with the ginger beer that was apparently a Shirley special—good for morning sickness, Shirley had informed her sagely—and was finding it to be very, very good indeed.
“I’m okay,” she said. “Not feeling too bad. And…”—she raised her glass—“this helps.”
“Yeah, ginger’s great for nausea,” Indigo said. “But you know, what Izzy and I really want to know is how are you and Finn.”
Izzy frowned at Indigo. “Hey, I was going to work up to that.”
Indigo only shrugged. She had her knitting in her lap in a pile of blue wool and whatever it was didn’t appear to have grown appreciably given all the time she spent knitting it.
Beth wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. How were she and Finn? Good. On the surface. If you didn’t mention things like feelings. If you were fine with sex at night with an unbelievably sexy man who did sweet, caring things for you during the day. And if you didn’t care about what the future would hold or worry about how your heart was going to resist falling for said sexy man.
A man who insisted on shutting himself away and you out.
Izzy frowned. “I get the feeling things aren’t great?”
Beth had talked with Izzy and Indigo after the pregnancy/marriage announcement and had explained to them the nature of her relationship with Finn. She hadn’t thought pretending it was something it wasn’t was a good idea, so she’d been up front. No, they weren’t in love. Yes, they were sleeping together. Yes, they were still getting married. Yes, it was kind of weird.
The other two had seemed to sense it was a complicated situation and so hadn’t pressed her for answers or other explanations. She’d been grateful for that, since she hadn’t wanted to talk about it herself. But now…
Beth sighed and took a swallow of her ginger beer. She felt achy from the ride that morning, but the place that ached the most was her heart. She’d been up front with Finn about wanting to talk. About needing a road map for this marriage of theirs, and she had seen the reluctance in his dark eyes.
He didn’t want to talk about it, that was clear, and quite frankly it was starting to hurt. No, scratch that. It was already hurting. She’d been honest with him about her various issues, yet he didn’t talk about his. They’d chatted about his childhood, but he didn’t mention Sheri. He never visited the little cabin either, and every time she dropped a hint about having an outdoor bath, he changed the subject.
She didn’t want to demand things of him he wasn’t ready to give, but she didn’t want this to be the whole of their relationship either.
She…wanted more than that.
“No,” she said. “Not great.”
“Oh no,” Indigo murmured feelingly. “I’m sorry, Beth.”
“Why?” Izzy asked. “What’s going on? You don’t have to tell us if you don’t want to, of course. I’m not going to push.”
“Oh, it’s okay. I could probably use some advice, to be honest.” She looked over the heads of the people sitting in front of them, over to where the tall figure that was Finn stood with Jim, helping hand out drinks. Gus was standing next to him eating her sausage and bread, and he was smiling down at her, his face lit up.
He was so handsome when he smiled like that, and it was clear he loved being with his niece. He’d love their child too, of that she had no doubt.
But he’ll never smile that way at you.
Pain hit her, a great throbbing ache. He did smile at her, but it was never like that. Never as if she was someone he loved being with.
Never as if she was someone he loved.
Oh, you idiot.
Yes. Yes, she was an idiot. She wanted to be someone Finn Kelly loved. And she knew why. She’d known for a week or so now yet hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it.
She was in love with him, that’s why.
“So what’s up?” Izzy asked.
Beth took a gulp of her ginger beer. Well, she certainly wasn’t going to tell the others that, not yet. Maybe not ever. Hey, maybe if she ignored it, it would go away.
“Finn’s great, don’t get me wrong,” she said. “He’s very supportive and caring. Does a lot of stuff for me. But…there’s this distance between us. He’s shutting me out.”
Indigo wrinkled her nose, obviously not impressed with this. She put her shandy down and picked up her knitting. “So, uh, you never really went into detail about the…um…exact nature of your relationship with Finn. Emotionally, I mean.”
Beth sighed. “It’s complicated.”
“Of course it is,” Izzy said comfortingly. “Kelly men do tend to make things unnecessarily complicated.”
“He did lose his wife.” Beth rubbed at the condensation on the side of her glass, feeling defensive of him. “And there’s no magical ‘moving on’ date. You never stop grieving. You just learn where to put the grief so you can keep living.”
Izzy’s gaze was full of a compassion that made Beth’s throat close up.
“That sounds like the voice of experience,” her friend said quietly.
It wasn’t the right time, and it wasn’t the right place, just before a movie was supposed to start and with the town gathered around, all talking and laughing. But the words slipped out of Beth before she could stop them.
“I’ve been pregnant before. But I…lost my baby. She was a late-stage miscarriage. And then I had some terrible postpartum depression.” She swallowed. “People knew. That’s the reason I left Deep River. I wanted to get away from all those pitying stares, find myself a new life. Somewhere more positive and happy.”
“Oh, Beth.” Izzy reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
Then Indigo took the ginger beer bottle out of Beth’s other hand and laced Beth’s fingers through hers, the two women holding on to her tightly. They didn’t speak, but then they didn’t have to. Beth could feel their support and their sympathy, their compassion flooding into her—a wordless offer of comfort and caring that brought tears to her eyes.
She had been afraid to tell them. Afraid to lay bare her experiences because no one else had wanted to know. And no one else had stayed to support her or care for her. She’d had to do it all on her own, and she had.
But it had led to an immense distrust of the people around her—people who didn’t deserve that distrust. Like Indigo and Izzy. They were here for her, she realized. They would never abandon her.
She swallowed again, blinking back the tears fiercely. “Thanks,” she said in a husky voice. “Thanks, you two. I know I haven’t said anything about it before, but…I didn’t get a lot of support from my family, and I find it a bit difficult to trust people.”
“You can trust us,” Izzy said firmly. “You can trust us with anything.”
“Amen,” Indigo murmured. “You can.”
She took a breath. “I’m in love with Finn Kelly.”
“Oh,” Izzy said, smiling. “Not surprising.”
“At all,” Indigo added.
Beth was a little miffed. She thought it was surprising. “Well, I only just figured it out.” She sniffed. “It wasn’t supposed to happen. We were supposed to have one night together and that was it, go our separate ways.”
“Uh-oh.” Indigo squeezed her hand tighter. “Getting pregnant must have been a shock then. No wonder you looked like a ghost.”
“Yeah,” Beth said, feeling inexplicably lighter now that all her secrets were out. “That’s kind of an understatement. Finn wants a family and he wants to be around to see his kid grow up, be a father, and he wants some legal protection for the child and for me. And when he suggested marriage, I thought, why not? I mean…we’re virtually already married. Living in the same house, sharing the same bed. We’re just…not in love. Or rather, he’s not in love with me.”
Izzy gave her hand a last squeeze, then let go, taking a sip of her shandy. “Are you sure about that?”
“It looks like he is to me,” Indigo said, picking up her knitting again.
Beth’s heart thumped painfully. “He’s not. He was very clear that he wasn’t. It looks that way because he’s a good guy. He helps everyone; it’s not just about me. And he was very clear about what he could give me and what he couldn’t.”
Izzy’s brow furrowed, but all she said was “So what are you going to do? Or rather, what do you want to do?”
Beth rubbed at the slick surface of her glass. “I don’t know. I thought I’d be fine with what we have, which is pretty good. But…sometimes I say things or ask about things that clearly hurt him. I grew up in a house constantly full of anger and emotional distress, and I don’t want that for our kid.”
“You shouldn’t want that for you either,” Izzy pointed out, her dark eyes full of kindness and warmth. “You deserve better than that, Beth.”
Tears filled her eyes yet again, and she had to put her hand up to scrub them away. “Stupid pregnancy hormones,” she muttered.
Izzy glanced away to give her some time to pull herself together, which Beth was grateful for.
“He deserves better too,” she said in a firmer voice. “I want to look after him the way he looks after me.”
“Yes,” Izzy said. “He really does deserve that.”
“You need to talk to him,” Indigo muttered. “Just lay it all out.”
Izzy nodded. “Agreed. If you’re going to be married, you have to be honest with each other. You can’t let this stuff fester, especially when a kid is involved.”
As one, they all looked to where Gus stood, wiping her hands on her jeans, obviously pleading for something from Finn, who was shaking his head.
Chase’s first wife had left Brightwater Valley when Gus was five and she hadn’t been back since. Beth could never understand how a mother could leave her child like that, with not even one visit.
“No,” she said. “You’re right. I can’t. I already told him we need to talk, but I’m not sure how he’s going to take it.”
“And if he doesn’t take it well?” Izzy glanced back at her. “What will you do then?”
Beth’s heart squeezed tight.
“I don’t know,” she said bleakly. “I really don’t know.”
***
Gus, in true Gus fashion, was pleading for a shandy, and since she’d already had one, Finn wasn’t inclined to allow her another, even if the ones Jim made for her were mostly lemonade.
“Please, Finn.” Gus danced around in front of him. “Just one more.”
“That’s a no, Gussie. And I think you heard me the first time.”
Gus scowled. “I’m going to ask Dad.”
“You do that. I’m sure he’ll be much more understanding.”
Gus rolled her eyes, sniffed, then stalked off, the epitome of a young teen in high dudgeon.
“Don’t tell me,” Levi said, wandering over to him, having finished fiddling with the projector. “She wanted another shandy?”
“Of course she wanted another shandy.” Finn put his hands in his pockets and scanned the crowd, his gaze coming to rest, as it always seemed to do, on Beth, who was sitting on the couch from HQ with Izzy and Indigo.
The other two were holding Beth’s hands, obviously in solidarity about something, while Beth looked down at her lap. Her loose ponytail had fallen over one shoulder, a lock of white-blond hair hiding her expression. She was in a loose, white shirt this evening and a pair of worn jeans, simple clothes that nevertheless seemed to highlight how pretty she was, how she glowed like the sun.
“She looks about as happy as she did up at the farmhouse,” Levi observed, picking up on the direction of Finn’s gaze.
“Don’t you have something better to do, Levi?” Chase’s voice came from behind them, and Finn swung around to find his brother standing there.
“No,” Levi said. “I don’t.”
“Are you sure?” Chase did not sound happy.
Levi glanced at him and then at Finn, then clearly deciding discretion was the better part of valor, he said, “Perhaps I’d better start the movie.”
“What is it tonight?” Chase asked, coming to stand next to Finn.
Levi’s wicked grin came out to play. “Die Hard.”
Finn shook his head. “Again?”
“Hey, everyone loves it.”
It was true, everyone did, though Chase got rather prudish about the language when Gus was around.
Predictably, Chase sighed. “Isn’t there anything more…family friendly?”
Levi shrugged. “Hey, the town voted, and they all voted for Die Hard. What can you do?”
The “vote” consisted of a box on the bar of the Rose, where everyone noted down their preferred movie on a slip of paper. Only one vote was allowed, but Levi had been known to cheat shamelessly.
“Come on, Levi,” said Teddy Grange, who’d placed her deck chair right in front of the screen, as close as she could get. “Let’s get this movie going.”
“Yes, come on.” Shirley, who was sitting next to her, agreed. “Hurry up.”
“Coming, ladies.” Levi grinned and moved away to deal with the DVD player and the projector.
“He’s not wrong,” Chase said after he’d gone. “What are you doing to that poor girl?”
It took Finn a moment to realize what Chase was talking about. “Who? Beth?”
“Of course Beth, you bloody idiot,” Chase growled, grumpy and not bothering to hide it. “Look at her. She’s upset.”
It was true. He could tell she was upset by the way her head was still bowed and the way the other two were gripping her hands. The sight made him ache, though he tried hard to ignore it.
“I didn’t do anything to her,” he said flatly, as if he could make himself believe it. “And why do you assume it’s got anything to do with me anyway?”
“Because she’s been happy right up until the time she got together with you and fell pregnant. Ever since then, every time I see her she looks bloody miserable.”
“She wasn’t happy right up until then,” Finn couldn’t help pointing out. “She was just pretending.”
“Right,” Chase said. “Like you’re pretending.”
Finn tensed. “I’m not pretending.”
“Don’t be a dick. Of course you are. You’re pretending you don’t give a shit about her, and quite frankly you’re not doing a very good job of it.”
Finn turned sharply to stare at his brother, defensive anger twisting in his gut. Chase stared back, gunmetal-gray eyes glinting silver in the twilight dusk.
“I don’t know what’s going on between you and her,” Chase went on, obviously in the mood to deliver a lecture, “but it’s clear she’s unhappy, and I don’t like it when my brother is making a perfectly lovely woman unhappy.”
Finn wished he could deny it, tell Chase that it was nothing to do with him, but he knew that it was. He knew that he was being unfair to Beth, because she sure as hell didn’t deserve it. The issue was, he didn’t know what to do about it.
“I’m trying not to,” he said after a long moment. “Believe me, I’m trying. But…”
“But what?”
Finn let out a breath and glanced back at the women sitting on the couch, trying to figure out what to tell his brother. “I have to keep some distance, Chase. I can’t…let her get close.”
Chase scowled at him. “Why the hell not? You’re going to marry her. How are you going to keep some distance when she’s your wife?”
“You know we don’t have that kind of relationship. It’s not the same as you and Izzy. You love Izzy and—”
“And what? You don’t love Beth?”
“No.”
“What about if she loves you?”
A muscle leapt in Finn’s jaw. “She doesn’t.”
“Yeah, we’ve had this conversation before, and you said the same thing, but I’m not so sure about that now. Look at her, Finn. That is not the picture of a happy woman.”
The ache in his heart deepened, became a raw pain. He’d never wanted to hurt her, not after what she’d already gone through with losing her baby and having her boyfriend just up and leave her.
But he was hurting her—he could see that. Yet what else could he do?
He couldn’t let her in, couldn’t bridge the gap between them. He had nothing to give her. Nothing at all.
She deserves better than that, you selfish asshole.
Yeah, well, what else was new? The only alternative was to let her go and he couldn’t do that. Not when she was expecting their child and definitely not when everyone else in her life had left her.
“I can’t let her go,” he said. “She’s been through a lot, and I can’t just abandon her.”
“Did I say anything about abandoning her?”
Finn let out a breath, not wanting to talk about it. “Drop it, Chase.”
“Hell no, I’m not going to drop it. You’re being an asshole, Finn Kelly, and I want to know why. Is it because of Sheri? Is that what this is about?”
A cheer went up as Levi finally got the projector going and the DVD started playing. Someone yelled “yippee ki-yay,” thankfully leaving off the swear word out of deference to those with more sensitive faculties.
Finn glanced over to where Beth was sitting. She was leaning back on the couch now, chatting with the other two. If she’d been upset before, she didn’t seem to be now, but that light he’d always seen in her, that bright glow…it felt dim. As if someone had turned down the brightness on her.
Your fault. You’re making her miserable.
“I don’t have anything left, Chase,” he heard himself say flatly. “I gave everything to Sheri. Every last piece of me. And when she died…that was it. She took it all with her. There’s nothing left now, nothing at all.” He gritted his teeth. “And certainly nothing left to give Beth.”
There was a long silence.
The opening credits were playing, everyone settling down to watch.
“That’s the biggest heap of bullshit I’ve ever heard in my life,” Chase growled. “Sheri was your first love, and she was your first loss, and you don’t get over that. I get it. But she didn’t take your heart with her, and quite frankly she’d be more than a little pissed with you thinking she had.”
Finn bit down on the thing he really wanted to say, which was to tell his brother to butt out of his goddamn business. But sadly, Chase wasn’t wrong. Sheri hadn’t been the least bit sentimental, and she would be pissed with him and the candle he was continually holding for her.
“I’m not loving anyone like that again,” he said instead, a hint of a growl in his voice too. “I can’t.”
“Won’t, you mean,” Chase snapped.
Finn barely resisted the urge to take his brother’s strong neck in his hands and strangle him. “Screw you. You don’t know a thing about it.”
“Maybe not. But what I do know is that you’d better sort your shit out because what you’re doing now isn’t working.”
“You think I don’t realize that?”
Chase’s gray gaze was very direct. “Sheri’s gone, Finn. But Beth isn’t. Beth is right here. Which means you need to figure out what you want. And if that’s a big happy family without having to make any sacrifices or take any risks, then you’re going to have to think again. Life doesn’t work that way and you know it.”
Then Chase stalked past him, going over to the couch where the three Deep River women were sitting. Izzy’s face brightened as soon as his brother appeared and she held out a hand to him, glowing with happiness.
At the other end of the couch, Indigo knitted and smiled as Chase said something to her.
Sitting in the middle was Beth. She glanced at him, but there was no bright smile for him on her face. She looked pale and drawn instead.
Then all of a sudden, she got up and began threading her way through the arranged chairs in the direction of the gallery.
He shouldn’t follow, not when anything he had to say she probably wouldn’t want to hear. But he couldn’t help himself.
He headed off after her.