Natalie pulled her mother’s car into a parking space in front of the Adirondack Folk School. “Wasn’t this a great idea?” she asked, glancing at Andie in the passenger seat. She couldn’t read her. Andie had accepted Natalie’s invitation readily enough and had chatted about the kids and her job and her family’s Christmas plans for the first few minutes of the drive. But she’d gotten more and more quiet the farther they drove from Paradox Lake.
“It was your idea,” Andie said flatly.
“My idea was lunch. Mom suggested the fair. She said you and Claire had talked about going other years, but hadn’t. Too bad Claire had to work today.” Natalie shut off the car. It would have been good to have Claire as a bridge between her and Andie.
“I hope it’s not too much for Mom having Robbie and the twins there,” Andie said, making no motion to open her door.
Was that what was bothering Andie? “She’ll be fine. She has Dad to help, and Paul said he’d take them sledding out back.”
Andie clutched her purse. “He wouldn’t let Robbie go down the hill by himself, would he? Robbie might beg him to. He seems to think he can do anything the twins can do.”
“I’m sure he wouldn’t.” Or, at least she hoped he wouldn’t. She remembered Paul and Renee at the same age wanting to do everything she and her older siblings did.
Natalie got out of the car and waited for her sister in front of the white clapboard building. When Andie finally emerged from the vehicle, Natalie pressed the car lock.
“I’ve got this,” Natalie said when they stepped up to the reception counter to pay their admissions. She palmed her mother’s debit card so Andie wouldn’t see it wasn’t hers and tried to ignore her guilt about letting her sister think she was treating. She’d let Andie know that Mom was buying their lunch. Looking at the colorful festival flyer the woman at the counter had given her, Natalie asked, “Where do you want to start?”
Andie shrugged. “You pick.”
“The jewelry might be fun. Maybe I’ll find something for Aimee and Amelia.”
Andie returned her smile with a pained look. Why couldn’t she keep her mouth shut? Mom had said she thought Andie and Rob were short on cash for Christmas, and Andie was picking up extra work hours at the store. Andie probably thought she was rubbing it in that she could afford custom jewelry for the twins. Not that she could, unless she found something small, like earrings. What bothered her more, though, was that Andie wasn’t responding like Andie.
Natalie glanced at the flyer again. “The blacksmith is giving a demonstration in about fifteen minutes, and after that we could check out the woodworkers. I thought I might be able to find a train or truck for Robbie.”
“He’d like that. I’ll have to check anything you pick to make sure it doesn’t have any small parts that could come off or sharp edges that could hurt him.”
“Okay.” Natalie couldn’t remember Andie being as hovering with the twins as she seemed to be with Robbie, and she’d still been home when the twins were four.
At the jewelers’ exhibit, Natalie and Andie ran in to a high school friend of Andie’s whom she hadn’t seen since the woman had moved to Glens Falls several years ago.
“Go ahead to the blacksmith demonstration without me,” Andie said with more animation than Natalie had seen since they’d arrived. “I’d like to stay and catch up with Sarah. You can meet me back here after the demonstration.”
So much for sister bonding. The kink in her shoulders she’d thought was from the long drive down melted away as she walked to the back room where the smithy was set up. She stopped short at the doorway. Connor was standing on the other side of the room with Jack Hill, looking like an ad for the L.L. Bean man in his plaid wool shirt, jeans and work boots. He glanced over at her and his lips turned up in the start of a smile that he seemed to catch before it became a full smile. She rubbed the back of her neck. Was he happy to see her or not? She wasn’t up to trying to read anyone else’s signals today.
“Natalie.” Jack waved her over.
She skirted around the people milling in front of the smithy’s anvil waiting for the demonstration to begin.
“Mom said you were back,” Jack said.
“For a while.”
Connor drew his lips into a thin line, and her heart stuttered. Was he unhappy about her possible job at the station in Chicago, that she might be leaving? More likely, he was concerned she wouldn’t hold up her commitment to the pageant. She’d set him straight on that at their next practice. Friends didn’t let down friends. She’d learned that lesson the hard way.
Jack opened up his arms for a friendly hug that Natalie couldn’t refuse without making a fuss.
“What’s going on here?”
Natalie jumped back at the woman’s words, her foot landing on the toe of Connor’s steel-toed boot. His arms went around her waist to keep her from falling, pulling her back against his solid chest. Her mouth went dry at the contrast between Jack’s friendly hug and Connor holding her in his arms.
“Natalie, I’m sorry.” Jack’s wife touched her arm. “I was teasing.”
“Suzi, you startled me.” Natalie reluctantly untangled herself from Connor. “Are the three of you here together?” She circled her pointer finger around.
“Yep, and my sister, Brianne.”
Suzi and Jack, and Brianne and Connor. Two couples. This was a date. Natalie’s cheeks warmed as she edged farther away from Connor and looked for Brianne.
“Did I see Andie over at the jewelry exhibit?” Suzi asked.
Natalie nodded. “She ran into a friend she hasn’t seen in a while and told me to come ahead and watch the blacksmith demonstration by myself.”
“The same with Brianne,” Suzi said, “only for her it was about fifteen friends.” She gave Connor an apologetic look.
An arranged date. She was surprised Connor hadn’t said anything about it the other night at her house during her mother’s matchmaking fiasco. How did he put up with it? He was far more patient than she was.
“The missing returns.” Connor smiled, looking over her head toward the doorway.
Brianne was standing there with a reciprocal smile. Natalie tensed. Maybe this wasn’t a fix-up. She should go find Andie. The prospect of being a fifth wheel had dimmed the appeal of the blacksmith demonstration.
Brianne made her way across the room tugging a guy Natalie hadn’t noticed before behind her.
“Great,” Suzi said, frowning.
The tension in the air thickened as the couple drew closer. Natalie glanced at Connor out of the side of her eye. He was still smiling, maybe even more so, adding to her confusion.
“Look who I ran in to.” Brianne introduced the man as a high school friend of hers. “He drove his grandmother and her friend here and was sitting in the other room kind of bored. I told him about the blacksmith demonstration.” Still gripping the man’s hand, she asked, “You don’t mind, Connor, do you?”
“Not at all,” Connor said.
Natalie flexed her fingers. If she was reading Connor right, and she was pretty sure she was, his earlier smile had been one of relief.
The demonstration began with Natalie sandwiched comfortably between Suzi and Connor.
“Cool,” Connor said as the smith bent the molten iron into shape. “I should sign up for a class.”
“And, what, set up your own smithy in the old horse barn behind the parsonage?” she teased.
“It never hurts to keep one’s work options open.”
Natalie couldn’t help thinking Connor’s words had a double meaning for her.
His gaze traveled to a parishioner standing on the other side of the room. “Of course, if I weren’t pastor of Hazardtown Community Church, I wouldn’t have access to the barn.”
Natalie stared at the man for a moment. One of his detractors? He lifted a hand in greeting to Connor and her. She waved back. Was that a possibility, the church not renewing Connor’s contract? Mom had said not to worry. Natalie furtively searched Connor’s profile. His jaw was set. Fixation on the show, or in concern about his pastorate?
“Hey,” Connor said when the blacksmith finished, “I’m going to go up and ask a couple of questions. Where can I meet up with you guys after?”
“Furniture,” Suzi said, and Jack rolled his eyes. She slugged him in the shoulder. “I just want to look.”
“Right.” He grinned, and Connor and her sister laughed.
Obviously, some kind of inside joke. Natalie felt herself fading into the background. What had she expected? Connor to leave his friends and his date—arranged or not—to hang out with her and Andie?
“Nice seeing you all,” she said. “I’d better go find Andie.”
“Natalie.” Her sister’s friend, Sarah, was rushing across the emptying room. “It’s Andie. Something’s wrong. She’s having chest pains and trouble breathing.”
“Where is she? Is someone with her?”
“My sister. She’s calling 911.”
* * *
Connor sensed Natalie’s fear even before the bits of the woman’s words he overheard registered with him. He turned heel and followed her. He was sure Brianne wouldn’t mind him stepping out of the picture. And Jack and Suzi would understand. Considering his and Jack’s history, maybe too well. It was his job, but more, it was Natalie. She’d need someone with her.
Connor touched Natalie’s shoulder. She jerked. “Oh, Connor. It’s Andie.”
“I heard.” He lengthened his stride to keep up with Natalie’s run.
“Where is she?” Natalie asked the woman with her when they reached the jewelers’ exhibit.
“I don’t know. I left her here with my sister.”
Natalie’s gaze darted around the room as if she might have somehow missed seeing Andie. Connor wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed. She looked up with a trembling smile.
“Are you Natalie?” one of the exhibitors asked.
“Yes,” he answered for her.
“They took your sister to an office off the reception area to lie down.”
“Thanks,” Natalie said, taking off at the same speedy pace.
As soon as they entered the reception area, a woman with an infant rushed from a room behind the counter. “I don’t know what happened,” the woman babbled. “She was holding Ben, and all of a sudden she fell apart. I thought she was going to drop him.”
Natalie pushed by her, yanking her hand from his. “This is my fault,” she said, heading to the room the woman had come from.
Connor resisted his initial urge to race after her. “Thanks,” he said to the two women. “I’m her pastor. I’ll take care of things now.”
“I called 911,” the woman with the baby said.
“Yes, I know.” His voice sounded brusque, but he wanted to be with Nat when she saw Andie.
“If I give you my cell phone number, would you call when you know how Andie is?” her friend asked.
“Of course.” He reined in his impatience and plugged the woman’s number into his phone.
“Thanks. I’ll say a prayer.”
Since he didn’t remember Andie’s friend from school, he didn’t know if she was sincere or saying that because he was a pastor. While normally that would have bothered him, at the moment he didn’t care. The thought was enough.
When he finally entered the office where Andie had been taken, he found Natalie sitting on the leather couch next to her sister, who was lying back with a cloth on her forehead. He didn’t know which of them looked paler. Andie’s the one you need to tend to first, he reminded himself.
“Connor, I’m glad you were here,” Andie said. “I’m scared.”
Natalie stood and let him take her place. She walked to the head of the couch.
He took Andie’s hand. “The emergency squad will be here soon. What happened?”
“I don’t know. I was holding the baby, Ben. He’s such a cutie, just like Robbie was. I started crying for no reason.”
A motion from Natalie caught his attention. She signed him, I’ll tell you later.
A moment of melancholy overtook him. They’d each taken a short class in American Sign Language in college and had used it to share silent comments.
Andie sniffed as if she might cry again, bringing him back to the present.
“Then, my heart started pounding and I couldn’t catch my breath. Little Ben’s mother grabbed him from me as if I’d drop him. I’d never drop a baby.”
“I know you wouldn’t,” he soothed her.
“I was afraid I was having a heart attack. Remember Mike Fuest? He’s only a couple of years older than I am, and he had a heart attack.”
“And he’s fine now,” Connor said of his parishioner. “How do you feel now?”
Andie rubbed the right side of her chest. “It still hurts.”
“Would you like me to pray with you?” He motioned Natalie to take her sister’s other hand without waiting for Andie’s affirmation, and he took hers. “Dear Lord, watch over Your daughter Andrea and, according to Your wishes, make her strong and well. In Your name, amen.” And, he added silently, use me as You see fit to give Natalie whatever it is she needs to be whole again.
“Excuse me.” An EMT from the Hadley-Luzerne Emergency Medical Services interrupted the silence following Connor’s plea. “Is she the possible heart attack we got the call about?”
A panicked look passed over Andie’s face when the EMT said “heart attack.” Connor couldn’t tell if it was fear of that possibility, or fear the EMT might discover she was faking. God forgive him. That was harsh, but knowing her and Natalie’s relationship, he wouldn’t put it past Andie not to pull a stunt like this to make Nat feel bad, to get back at her for whatever it was that Andie held against Natalie.
Natalie dropped his hand and placed herself between the man and Andie like a lioness defending its young. “My sister is the person you were called about. She’s had some kind of episode.”
“Please step aside and let us assess the situation.”
Connor rose from the couch and went to Natalie. Placing his arm around her shoulder, he urged her back out of the way so the other emergency personnel could roll a stretcher into the room. Despite her bristle a moment ago, or because of it, Natalie felt as soft and limp as a rag doll. They watched the emergency techs take Andie’s vital signs.
“I don’t think it’s her heart,” Natalie said in a low voice the others couldn’t hear. “Because it started when she held the baby, I think it was a panic attack, maybe brought on by postpartum depression.” In confidence, she shared what her mother had told her about Andie’s miscarriage. “I couldn’t put my finger on it before today, but to me she’s acting like the wife of one of my colleagues at the last station who was diagnosed with postpartum depression.”
He felt like a heel for the thoughts he’d had about Andie earlier when he’d doubted her. “Should we say something to the EMT?”
Natalie glanced at her sister, who the EMT had sitting up on the couch. “No, not yet. It could just be me. I think she’s been acting odd since I arrived. It may have been gradual, so no one else has noticed. Or maybe I’m imagining things. You know, Andie has always had her ‘moods.’ If they take her to the hospital because of something I say and it turns out to be nothing, I’ll never hear the end of it. Unless she stops me, I’ll stay with her when the doctor sees her and say something then if I feel I need to.”
“Miss,” the EMT said, motioning Natalie over.
“They want to take me to the hospital,” Andie said. “But I’ve got the kids, Rob, work.”
“They just want to have a doctor check you over,” Natalie assured her.
“What if they want to keep me there?”
Natalie bit her lip.
“You should go with the medics,” Connor said, relieving Natalie of having to tell Andie what to do and risking her resistance. “Natalie and I’ll follow the ambulance.”
“You’ll stay?”
“Of course,” Natalie said.
“Connor, too?”
“Yes, I’ll come with Natalie and stay.”
Natalie squeezed Andie’s hand, and the emergency technicians wheeled her away.
Connor pulled out his phone. “I’m going to text Jack, and then we can leave.” He typed in his message and waited for a reply. “All set.”
Natalie gave him a crooked smile. “I really appreciate your help,” she said, “and I’m sorry we crashed your date.”
“Not a problem.” More of a relief. “I have a strong feeling Brianne is glad to have me out of the picture.”
“With some people, there’s no accounting for taste.” Natalie covered her mouth with her fingertips. “We’d better get to the hospital. I have Mom’s car parked out front.”
Connor placed his hand on the small of her back and walked her out of the office. An afternoon at the Glens Falls hospital wasn’t exactly his fantasy of spending time with Natalie, but he’d take it.
* * *
“I’ll drive,” Connor said, holding his hand out for the keys.
“I can—” Natalie began, but stopped. “No.” She dropped the keys in his hand. She was too rattled by Andie and by whatever was going on between her and Connor. Ministering to Andie was his job, but she felt—or hoped—his actions meant more.
Connor opened the car door for her before walking around to the driver’s side. “Thanks again,” she said, “for coming with me, giving up your afternoon.”
“No problem.” He started the car and headed toward the county highway. “There are times when my work has to come first.”
She swallowed her disappointment and chided herself for being so selfish. Of course he was coming with her to the hospital for Andie. He’d probably be a lot more comfort to her sister than she would.
He turned onto the highway. “And as setups go, today doesn’t come close to your mother’s attempt the other night.”
She flushed. “You’re saying that because of the cookies.” Her flush deepened. Could she have said anything more lame or self-serving?
“That and a comment Josh made about being willing to step in for me today. He said something about keeping his options open that rubbed me the wrong way.”
Connor didn’t sound like she’d expect Pastor Connor to sound. She stared at the road ahead of them. He and Josh had always had a sibling rivalry, not unlike her and Andie’s. She glanced at his profile as he turned into the hospital parking lot. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
“You did that to get my mind off Andie,” she said, breaking into a slow smile.
“I’m not telling.” He found a parking space near the emergency room and parked.
She stuck her tongue out at him in a childish gesture she’d often used when he bested her at something. It was fun to just be herself with Connor, with anyone. She’d gotten far too used to playing for the camera.
He met her on her side of the car and they walked to the building. She dragged her feet as they closed in on the emergency room. Connor held the door for her, and despite the brightly painted walls all the lightness drained out of her when she crossed the threshold. People waiting to be seen sat sporadically dispersed in the hard plastic chairs ringing the entry room. A baby cried, and Connor squeezed her shoulder.
She hurried over to the glass-enclosed desk and tapped her foot as she waited for the clerk on the other side to slide open the window. “The Luzerne Emergency Squad bought my sister in. Andie—Andrea Bissette.”
“Spell the last name please.”
“B-i-s-s-e-t-t-e.”
The clerk typed into the computer. “E7. I’ll buzz you into the door on your right.”
“Thank you.” Natalie and Connor walked to the right and when the buzzer sounded, she pulled the doorknob of the heavy metal door. As it cracked open, Connor reached over her, grabbed the door edge and lifted the weight from her as he’d already done several times this afternoon—and countless times in the past.
“Oh,” the clerk said when they emerged on the other side. “I didn’t know you had someone else with you. We only allow one person per patient. One of you will have to wait outside.”
“I’m the patient’s pastor,” Connor said.
A commotion arose in the entry. The clerk looked through the glass and hit the buzzer. The door next to her and Connor flew open to let in an emergency technician pushing a gurney with an apparent stabbing victim, followed by two police officers escorting another man with lesser wounds.
The clerk frowned. “I guess it’s okay since you’re here in an official capacity.” She waved Natalie and Connor on and trained her attention on the new arrivals.
“Does that work often, using your pastor cred?” Natalie asked.
“Often enough.” He pulled at the neck of his long-sleeved T-shirt. “Looks like the Es are to the right.”
They walked by the central nursing station to E7.
“About time,” Andie said when they walked into her glass-partitioned area.
This was the Andie Natalie was used to. She must be feeling better. “We came as quickly as we could.”
“Has anyone been in to see you?” Connor asked.
“Only a nurse to take my temperature, pulse and blood pressure.” Andie fidgeted with the blanket that had been placed over her. “It’s freezing in here.”
“Do you want your jacket?” Natalie reached under the gurney where she’d spied it. If anything, the room was too warm.
“Yes, and maybe we should leave.”
Natalie held the jacket in her hand, hesitating to hand it to her sister for fear she’d take the action as encouragement to leave.
“Andie.” Connor touched her arm as if to restrain her. “You need to stay until a doctor checks you out. You were not okay at the Folk School. What would you do if you were home alone with Robbie and you had a similar episode? I think he’d be frightened.”
Andie gripped the blanket with white knuckles. “I’d never do anything to hurt Robbie.”
What was Andie’s obsession with not hurting kids? Everyone knew Andie adored kids of all ages.
“I didn’t hurt the baby,” Andie said.
Confusion spread across Connor’s face.
“Of course you didn’t,” Natalie said after a moment of silence.
“Right. I talked with your friend and her sister before we left the festival,” Connor said, obviously thinking Andie meant her friend’s baby nephew. “Your friend wanted to give me her phone number so I could let her know how you were. The baby was fine. He waved bye-bye to us.”
Her heart cracked. Connor’s words hadn’t wiped any of the pain off her sister’s face.
“You’re pregnant?” asked the nurse, who’d breezed in time to hear Andie’s comment about not hurting the baby. “You didn’t say that in the medical history we took when you came in.”
Natalie bit her lip. Andie must feel she did something to cause her miscarriage.
“No.” Andie’s voice caught. “I’m not pregnant.”
“You need to tell her.” Natalie’s gaze drilled into Andie’s.
“You know?” Andie said in an almost inaudible voice.
Natalie nodded. “Robbie said something to me when I was babysitting him about the Christmas baby not coming and you crying. I asked Mom, and she told me.”
“I asked her not to.”
Natalie squeezed her sister’s coat in her folded arms. This wasn’t the time for one of their petty arguments.
Andie tilted her head toward Connor.
“I told Connor,” Natalie admitted, answering her sister’s silent question.
“Great,” Andie said. “Let’s make sure the whole world knows my private business.”
Natalie tried to ignore the way her sister’s words slashed through her. Andie was hurting. But she was Andie’s sister, not the whole world.
“Andie, Natalie told me in pastor confidence. Nothing she said or you say will go beyond me.”
“All right, then. I had a miscarriage in September.” She said it as if she was admitting to a crime.
“I’ll need the information,” the nurse said. “Would you like them to leave?”
“I’ll go,” Connor said. “You let me know if you need me today or later.”
“Thanks, Pastor Connor. I’ll do that.”
“Promise?” he asked.
“Promise.”
Natalie’s heart swelled with pride for the professional Connor had become. Not that she’d had any part in it. “I’ll go, too,” she said, watching Connor leave. “Unless you want me to stay.”
“No, you can go,” Andie said, dismissing her.
Natalie refused to leave on a bad note. She stashed Andie’s coat back under the gurney, leaned over and hugged her sister’s stiff form until she relented and hugged her back. “Tell her everything,” she said for Andie’s hearing only. “It will help the doctor.” Natalie felt Andie’s nod. She straightened, swallowing to break the block of apprehension in her chest. “I’ll call Mom and let her know what’s going on.”
* * *
Connor paced the waiting room off the emergency room entryway. In the background, the all-news channel blared about a fast-moving nor’easter that had veered inland and was heading for Northeastern New York.
“Expect up to three feet or more of snow in the higher elevations,” the weathercaster said.
Connor glanced out the window at the fat flakes drifting down in winter splendor, knowing all too well how fast they could change to a blinding veil of windblown white. He sat in a chair facing away from the window. Andie must have let Natalie stay. His professional side yearned to counsel them to resolve their differences. His ordinary-man side wanted to align with Natalie and protect her from the hurt Andie was so good at inflicting on her.
He pulled out his cell phone and made use of the hospital’s public Wi-Fi to check his email. One from an old friend from seminary caught his attention.
“Hey, am I interrupting?”
Natalie was standing right beside his chair. “You looked so engrossed,” she said.
He clicked off his phone. “Checking email. I thought Andie might have let you stay.”
She sat next to him. “No. I called Mom and talked with her a while. I think I might have made a connection with Andie.”
“Good.” He tapped his fingers on the hard plastic armrest of his chair, mulling over what his fellow seminarian had emailed him and whether to share it with Natalie. “Do you want to get coffee or something? We missed lunch.”
“I’m not really hungry.” She brushed the leg of her jeans. “Would you come with me to the chapel and pray that Andie tells the doctor the full story?” She glanced around the waiting room. “I’d feel more comfortable there. The nurse said it’s just up the hall.”
“Anything you want.”
“You could get yourself in trouble with an offer like that.” She stood and grabbed her coat from where she’d dropped it on the seat next to her when she’d come in.
Looking up into her coffee-brown eyes, all he could think was in trouble might be exactly where he wanted to be. He stood and walked with Natalie to the chapel, casually looping his arm around her waist and reveling in the simple joy of Natalie not pulling away.
He lifted his arm to open the chapel door. “Do you want me to pray with you?”
She touched his arm. “Thank you, but not out loud.” She slid her hand into his. “What I want to say is too personal.”
He slid his fingers into hers, mentally contrasting the size of her hand and the softness of her skin with his. He of anyone should respect her request, and he did. But that didn’t stop him from feeling shut out. They walked down the aisle to the front pew and kneeled. Connor glanced at Natalie, her head bowed, eyes closed. What was it about her that ripped open the wounds of his old insecurities? She stirred beside him, and he tore his gaze from her. Closing his eyes, he prayed for Andie and Natalie—and for strength and clarity for himself.
When they finished, Connor talked Natalie into getting something to eat before they returned to the ER waiting room.
“Pretty.” Natalie stood by the window. “I love the way fresh snow makes everything look so clean and sparkly.”
Connor stood behind her. He’d been thinking the same, but not about the snow.
“Natalie.” Andie stood in the doorway.
Natalie brushed by him, breaking the tenuous connection between them, and rushed to her sister.
“I can go home,” Andie said, followed by something else in a low voice he couldn’t hear.
Natalie nodded. “I’ll get my coat.”
Connor lifted her jacket from the chair next to him and walked over. He held it for her.
“Thanks.” She slipped her arms in and pulled it on. “We better get going before we get snowed in here.”
Andie looked past them to the window. “I didn’t know it was snowing. Connor, will you drive?”
“I could.” He glanced at Natalie. She dropped her gaze to the floor and tapped her foot.
“It’s not that you’re a bad driver, Natalie. But I’m not used to riding with you,” Andie said.
Andie wasn’t used to riding with him, either. Connor zipped his coat, waiting for some confirmation from Natalie.
Her foot tapping stopped. “That’s a good idea, if Connor doesn’t mind.”
“It’s fine.” He certainly wasn’t going to tell her that he’d feel better if he was driving, too. But maybe she’d remembered that he wasn’t a comfortable passenger. When they’d been together, he’d insisted on driving so often she’d teased him that she had her own personal chauffer.
Natalie handed him the keys, and he walked ahead to open the door for them. When they reached the car, he popped the trunk to get the scraper to clear the snow off the car and let Andie in the backseat. He reached for the front door handle.
“Natalie, sit with me so we can talk,” Andie said.
“Okay, but why don’t I start the car so it can warm up while Connor cleans the snow off.” Natalie pushed the door closed and walked with him around the front of the car. “Do you mind my sitting in the back with Andie? Since she wants me, I’d like to be there for her.”
“No, it’s fine.”
“Thanks.” Natalie pulled her wool cap down farther over her ears against the blustering wind and leaned against the car fender.
How could he mind? He knew how much Natalie wanted Andie and her to get along. She always had. Maybe this was the start of their mending. He handed her back the keys to start the car and lifted the windshield wipers so he could brush off the snow.
Natalie tilted her head and smiled at him. “Has anyone told you lately what a nice guy you are?” She ducked in the car before he could answer.
He attacked the thick layer of ice that had formed on the windshield with a vengeance so he had an excuse for the warmth that filled him and didn’t have to acknowledge to himself that it had a lot more to do with Natalie’s smile and words than the energy he was exerting.