“Are you comfortable?” Ridley asked as Jessica settled into the front seat of his car.
She offered a rueful smile. “It’s getting harder every day to answer yes to that question.” She tugged at the shoulder strap of the seatbelt, giving her abdomen a little more room.
Kris thrust her head between the driver and passenger seats, looking less than happy.
Now Jessica laughed. “I take it she’s grown used to riding shotgun.”
“Yeah.” He closed the passenger door. “Bad habit too. I should make her ride in the back in a crate. It would be safer for her.”
Jessica stroked the dog’s head. “I’m sorry, girl, but this spot is mine for the day. I’ll make sure you get a treat when we get to Mom’s. Okay?”
Kris licked Jessica’s hand, then disappeared into the back seat.
Ridley grinned as he hurried around the front of the car and got behind the wheel. He was looking forward to spending the day with Jessica. He also looked forward to meeting her dad. He already liked her mom and hoped the woman liked him a little.
Funny, he’d never much cared for meeting his girlfriends’ parents or siblings. It felt like he was making some sort of commitment when that happened. But it was different this time. Maybe because he could imagine a future with Jessica, fuzzy though that image in his head was most of the time.
Ridley guided his automobile through Hope Springs and onto the winding two-lane highway that followed the south fork of the river. A playlist of Big Band standards played on the car stereo.
“You are even more eclectic in your music choices than you let on. Not just classical or Christian, huh?”
He glanced at Jessica, then looked back at the road. “Guilty. It was my grandfather who turned me on to this music. Glenn Miller was one of his all-time favorites. ‘Stardust.’ ‘Moonlight Serenade.’”
“‘In the Mood,’” she interjected.
He grinned. “Yeah.”
“My grandma loved music from that era too.”
“Maybe our grandparents were listening to their radios at the same time.”
“Maybe.”
“From things you’ve said, you were real close to your grandmother.”
“Yes. We were close.” Her voice softened. “If she’d lived, she would have turned eighty-seven years old on the Fourth of July. The other day I found a notation in her father’s Bible dated the day she was born. He wrote that she was his first little arrow and prayed that he would be worthy of that reward.”
“From one of the psalms.”
He felt more than saw her turn her head to look at him. “Psalm 127. You know it?”
“My grandfather quoted it to me. About five years ago, I think. Something about children being like arrows and a blessing from God. He was telling me it was time for me to settle down and have kids of my own.”
Jessica laughed. “It obviously didn’t do any good.”
Not yet, he thought, keeping his eyes on the road despite wanting to pull to the shoulder and take her in his arms—a desire that was getting harder and harder to resist. And not just to kiss her once. To kiss her time and again. Today and tomorrow and the next day and the one after that. To sit beside her on the sofa and watch television while she cradled a baby in her arms. To have her trust him to care for her and for this baby and for any future babies. He’d never expected to want anything as much as he wanted those images to be his future.
“Have you ever come close?” she asked. “To getting married, I mean.”
“I’ve never proposed to anybody. No.”
“Have you been in love?”
A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth. It amused him that the woman he was undoubtedly falling in love with—had already fallen in love with—was the one who’d asked the question. Did she have no clue what she’d done to him?
“Too personal?” she asked as the silence between them lengthened.
“No. Sorry. Not too personal.” He glanced over at her, but she was staring out the passenger window. You’re not ready to hear my answer just yet, he silently told her.
“Love can be complicated.” Her words were almost too soft for him to hear.
“Seems that way.” But not for long, he added to himself. I’m going to find a way to change your mind, Jessica Mason. I promise you that.
Jessica’s parents lived in the north end of Boise in a two-story home built in the thirties. They’d purchased and remodeled it as newlyweds, close to forty years before. Large, ancient trees shaded both front and back yards, and there were glorious bursts of color everywhere, thanks to her mom’s green thumb.
Jessica had waited until shortly before she and Ridley left Hope Springs before texting her mom that they were on their way, adding matter-of-factly that they were coming in Ridley’s car and bringing his dog. Thus, neither of her parents showed any surprise over whom she’d brought with her to Sunday dinner. Ridley was greeted warmly and made to feel at home, and Kris was turned into the backyard along with a tasty treat that Jessica’s dad had purchased at the grocery store especially for her.
“Ridley,” her mom said, “would you like something to drink? We won’t eat until two. Iced tea or lemonade. Or if you prefer, I’ve got Diet Coke.”
“Lemonade sounds good, Mrs. Alexander.”
“Pat, please.”
Jessica headed for the fridge. “I’ll get it, Mom. Dad, do you want something?”
“Lemonade for me, too, honey. Thanks.”
Before long, the four of them were settled around a table on the patio. The forecast promised the temperature would top a hundred degrees, but the trees and a waterfall and small pond on the west side of the patio made it comfortable to sit outside for now.
“Were you able to attend the Independence Day celebration in Hope Springs?” her mom asked Ridley, getting the conversation started.
“Yes, I was. It was a lot of fun.” His gaze flicked to Jessica.
As had become its habit, her stomach tumbled in response. She lowered her eyes to her glass of lemonade, watching beads of water slide down its sides.
“As far as I could tell,” Ridley continued, “the whole town was in the park that day.”
Her mom laughed softly. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“I even managed to win the last three-legged race of the afternoon. It was a narrow victory but a victory all the same.”
Jessica lifted her eyes. “You didn’t win it by yourself.”
Her mom sucked in a breath. “Don’t tell me you raced with him. Not in your condition.”
“Of course not, Mom.” She shook her head. “His racing partner was an adorable redhead.” She smiled at Ridley.
“She was cute, wasn’t she?” He laughed before taking a sip of lemonade.
“Nine years old and about half your height.” Silly though it might be, the memory of watching that race in the park felt intimate and special to Jessica. A memory the two of them shared.
Her dad cleared his throat. “Looks like your dog has her eyes on the goldfish in the pond.”
Ridley didn’t smile or wink at Jessica, but it felt to her as if he’d done both before he turned to look at her father. “Your fish should be safe. Kris doesn’t think much of the water. She might bark, but she won’t go in.”
As if to prove Ridley’s point, the sheltie stepped close to the pond, barked, then backed several steps away, snorting her displeasure before giving her head a vigorous shake.
Jessica’s dad chuckled. “I see what you mean.”
Her mom stood. “I’d better check on our dinner.” She glanced at Jessica, a silent request to go with her, before walking inside.
“I’ll give her a hand.” She looked at Ridley, wondering if he minded being left alone with her father.
He seemed to understand and gave his head a nod to let her know he would be fine.
She rose and went inside. Her mom was in the kitchen, the oven door open.
“I thought Dad was barbecuing chicken.”
“That was the plan.” Her mom straightened. “But something’s wrong with the grill, so pot roast it is. I hope you aren’t disappointed. I still made the key lime pie.”
“I’m not disappointed. I love your pot roast. Anything I can help with?”
“Not a thing. But you can sit at the counter and talk to me, if you want.”
“Sure.” She set her glass of lemonade, now half full, on the counter, then settled onto the nearest stool. “Talk about what?”
Her mom sent her a pointed glance.
“He’s still just my neighbor, Mom.”
“Is he? That isn’t what it looks like to me.”
Jessica sighed. “Okay, maybe it’s a little bit more than that. But like I told you before, I’m not foolish.”
“Oh, honey.”
“I’m not.”
“I know you’re not. But so much has happened in the last year. I can’t help but want you to protect yourself from any more pain.”
Jessica ran a fingertip around the edge of her glass. “I don’t want to live that way, trying to protect myself from getting hurt. Because if I’m protecting myself from pain, I’m protecting myself from feeling other things too. Like joy. Like pleasure.”
“Like love?”
She met her mom’s gaze again. “Like love.”
“Do you think you love Ridley?”
“I don’t know. It’s too soon to know. Besides, as you’re well aware, it’s complicated. He doesn’t live in Hope Springs. He’s only there for the summer.” She looked down at her belly. “And that isn’t even the biggest complication to a relationship.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t go to Florida.”
Jessica rolled her eyes. “Of course you should go. Deidra needs to spend time with you as much as I do, and you shouldn’t miss seeing Trish play Peter Pan.”
“But it’s so close to your time.”
“Not really. You’ll be back four or five weeks before the delivery. More if I’m as late as I was with Angela.”
“Second babies often come sooner.”
“But sometimes they come later.”
“Oh, you.” Frustration laced the two words.
Jessica grinned in victory. “Oh, me.”
Her mom drew back slightly. “You are emotionally stronger. I can see that.”
“I am stronger.”
“All right. I’ll try not to interfere again. Just . . . be careful.”
“I will. I promise.” Although she wasn’t at all sure she could keep that promise. Was it possible to be careful while falling in love?