15

“I think you’ve made a new friend.”

At David’s comment, Val took a lick of her ice-cream cone and shifted around on the bench to watch as Victoria enjoyed the antics of the zoo’s prairie dogs.

“She’s a sweetheart—and she’s fortunate to have a father who plans outings like this. Too many men put their families in second place, behind their careers. It’s a shame, don’t you think?”

David didn’t respond, and Val glanced toward him.

A slight frown marred his forehead. “We had sort of the opposite situation in our family. Natalie was very career-oriented.”

The perfect opening to ask a few questions about his wife. “What did she do?”

“She handled marketing for her company’s global brands. Since my hours were more flexible and I didn’t have to travel or work overtime, I took on most of the child-care duties, which was fine with me. I’ve always believed that raising a child is the most im­portant job in the world.”

An opinion not shared by his wife, apparently. David hadn’t said anything negative about Natalie, yet she sensed their different philosophies on child rearing had been a source of dis­appointment to him...and perhaps a point of contention.

“It sounds like she was very busy—and gone a fair amount.” She kept her tone casual and conversational. Pushing could come across as nosey.

“She was. We delayed starting a family, hoping that once her career was established life would slow down, but the opposite happened. As she took on more higher-level responsibilities, her world got more hectic. It became obvious there was never going to be an optimal window to have children. In the end we decided to go ahead. As it was, she went back to work four weeks after giving birth.”

He examined the remnants of his ice cream. The cone had col­lapsed, and the mess that remained wasn’t salvageable. He wrapped it in his napkin and balled it in his fist. “Natalie always pushed herself too hard. I used to tell her to slow down and smell the flowers, that life was too short and should be enjoyed—but neither of us realized how short hers would be.”

Val crumpled the napkin that had been wrapped around her own ice-cream cone. “Was it an accident?”

“No. Not in the sense you mean. She was a borderline diabetic when we married, and after she had Victoria, her condition wors­ened. It got to the point where she had to monitor her blood sugar level often during the day and give herself injections. Two years ago, on an overseas flight, her blood sugar went haywire. With the time change, she may have gotten out of sync, forgot to check…we’ll never know. Halfway over the Pacific she fell into diabetic shock. There was a doctor onboard, and he did the best he could under the circumstances, but after she went into cardiac arrest…” His voice rasped, and he fell silent.

“I’m so sorry.” Letting her instincts guide her, she laid her hand over his as her gaze flickered to Victoria. “I can’t begin to imagine how difficult that must have been for both of you.”

“Yeah.” His voice roughened again, but after a moment he continued. “At least I had my faith to sustain me. But Victoria was too young to find any comfort there, or grasp the full impact of what had happened. Yet children can sense disturbances, and for days after Natalie’s death I couldn’t get Victoria to eat more than a few bites at a time. For weeks, she’d wake up at night crying. She was only three, though, and kids that age rebound fast. The trauma fades—along with everything else, unfortunately. She has no memory of her mother. I show her pictures, and I try to tell her about Natalie, but to her they’re nothing more than stories, with no more basis in reality than her fairy tales. All she knows is she doesn’t have a mommy like all of her friends do.”

David looked down at her hand resting on his, and she removed it on the pretense of adjusting her purse.

“You know, I think I owe you an apology.” He angled toward her.

“Why?”

“I promised you a fun day, but all I’ve done is depress you.”

“I’m not depressed. Just sorry for all you’ve gone through.”

“Close enough. Let’s change the subject. Tell me about you.”

If he thought that was going to cheer her up, he was dead wrong.

“Now there’s a boring subject.” The comment came out light de­spite the heaviness in her heart—just as she’d hoped.

“Not according to your mother. She’s always bragging about you.”

“Bragging? Mom? You’re got to be kid­ding.”

He held up his hand. “Nope. Scout’s honor. I hear lots of flattering comments about you and your sister.”

“Are you certain we’re talking about the same Margaret Mont­gomery? All Karen and I ever heard growing up was criticism. About ourselves, not about each other, mind you. We each felt that nothing we ever did was adequate, and that the other sister was the favored one.”

“Interesting.” He dabbed at a sticky spot on his lips with his napkin.

He had nice lips.

“Margaret is opinionated.” He rested an arm along the back of the bench as he continued, his fingers inches from her shoulder. “And I can see how she could be manipulative. But I don’t hear too many complaints—except about food. Those tapered off after I began compliment­ing her on her weight loss, though. Was your dad critical too?”

“No.” She pulled her gaze away from his mouth. “He was sup­portive and affectionate, and he always made us feel special. His unconditional love helped compensate for Mom’s shortcomings in the parenting-skills department, and I vowed someday to emulate his example as best I could with my own children.”

“So what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“As far as I know, you’ve never been married. Or had kids.”

Oops.

She’d walked straight into that one.

Giving her hand more attention than it deserved, she wiped off some sticky ice cream residue. “Too busy for either.”

“That’s a shame. I’ve seen how you interact with Victoria, and how she relates to you. You’d be a wonderful mother.”

Calling on every ounce of her theatrical training, Val managed to maintain her placid air. “Motherhood isn’t for me.”

“Why not?”

“I happen to agree with what you said earlier, about the impor­tance of raising children. It’s a full-time job, and I love my career too much to give that up.”

“I didn’t mean to imply a woman has to give up her career to have a family. I think it’s possible to integrate the two. The key is to maintain perspective and priorities.”

“Finding that balance is a challenge. It’s better not to take the chance.” Val tossed her wadded-up napkin into the trash bin beside the bench and put on her perkiest face. “So, tell me what you’ve been doing in the few leisure hours you manage to squeeze in around all your other responsibilities.”

If the abrupt change of subject disconcerted him, he didn’t let on. “I haven’t had a chance yet to do much more than straighten out the house and help Victoria acclimate, but I’m thinking about volunteering for a program at church.”

“What kind of program?” That should be a safe subject, given her minimal affiliation with the church.

“We’re going to be sponsoring a benefit for an organization called Hope House. I think your sister is coordinating the event. Have you heard about it?”

So much for safe subjects.

“Karen mentioned it.”

“It sounds like an admirable cause. I can’t think of anything more worthwhile than saving the lives of innocent babies. The pro-life movement has always been important to me.”

The bottom fell out of her stomach.

“But I’m afraid I can’t contribute much to the effort. All of my theatrical talent could fit in my pinkie.” David gave her a self-deprecating grin. “However…I used to run lights and sound for shows in college, and I enjoyed contributing behind the scenes. I could volunteer in a capacity like that.”

“I’m sure they’d welcome your expertise.” Val played with the edge of her purse strap. “Actually, Karen asked me to be the emcee.”

“No kidding! Are you going to?”

“I don’t know. I told her I’d consider it.”

“I think it’s a super idea. With your background, you could bring something special to the event.”

She averted her head on the pretense of watching Victoria. Yeah, she could bring something special—but not in the way he meant.

And as the little girl’s giggle infiltrated her defenses—and re­minded her of all she could never have—she was sorrier than ever that she’d succumbed to temptation and accepted David’s invita­tion to spend the day in their company.

* * *

“I had fun at the zoo today, Daddy.”

David finished tucking in Victoria and leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I’m glad, sweetheart.”

“Did you have fun too?”

Not as much as he’d hoped—but why ruin Victoria’s day? “It’s hard not to have fun at the zoo.”

“Yeah.” She cuddled up next to her Raggedy Ann doll. “Do you think Val had fun?”

Not much. Especially after their chat on the bench. The encounter had gone south for both of them at about the same point, near as he could tell. For him, talking of Natalie had reminded him of all he’d lost...and how much Victoria needed a mother. He hadn’t been able to work up much enthusiasm for that task until Val had walked into his life. But her admission today that her career came first…bad news. Been there, done that.

As for why Val’s mood had changed so abruptly—he had no idea.

“Daddy?” Victoria tugged on his shirt.

“I think Val enjoyed laughing with you about that goofy monkey that kept chattering at us and jumping up and down.”

Victoria giggled. “That was funny. And I liked how she rode the carousel with me too. Do you think we could go somewhere else with her again?”

That question was tougher.

“I don’t know. She’s only going to be in town for a few more weeks. Val lives in Chicago, remember?”

“Is that far away?”

“Yes. It takes a whole afternoon to drive there.”

Victoria’s brow puckered. “That’s too bad. She’s really nice.”

Yeah, she was. Nice enough that he’d have been willing to follow up on Victoria’s suggestion. His daughter wouldn’t get too attached in one or two more excursions, and she enjoyed Val’s company. The reverse also seemed true. Val might be an actress, but her smiles had been genuine, and she’d been captivated by Victoria, leaning toward her every now and then to brush her hair back with a gentle hand if the wind tossed the soft strands.

Yet after their exchange on the bench, she’d grown quiet, and their parting had been polite, nothing more.

David bent down and gave Victoria another kiss. “There are lots of nice people in the world. We’ll meet some more of them.”

“Not as nice as Val, I bet.”

No argument there.

He crossed to the door and paused by the light. “Good night.”

“’Night, Daddy.” She snuggled under the blanket.

He flipped off the switch and wandered into the kitchen. He ought to unpack a few more boxes. Or fix that pantry drawer that kept sticking. Or put together the ceiling fan that had been delivered yesterday. The list of chores was endless.

Instead, he retrieved a soda from the fridge and went out to the screen porch to think some more about Val.

Because the pieces weren’t adding up.

He sat in a folding chair, stretched his legs in front of him, and ticked off what he knew. She was an actress. She had a less-than-perfect relationship with her mother. She’d left town for college and never come home. She was single, and maintained she didn’t intend to change that status. She also claimed she didn’t want children.

Yet he’d seen a different message in her eyes as she’d watched Victoria. They’d held longing, tenderness…and an emotion he was tempted to classify as regret. As if what she wanted most was beyond her reach.

David took a swig of his soda and crossed an ankle over his knee. How could that be? Val was a young woman. She was attractive, intelligent, and compassionate. She could have her pick of men. She was also smart. Juggling a job with marriage and motherhood wouldn’t be an insurmountable challenge.

So why had she written off a family? Was there some trauma in her past that was holding her back?

Maybe.

For as she’d said good-bye earlier, he’d heard more in her farewell than a mere parting for the day. While their paths would cross again at the rehab center, he’d gotten the distinct feeling she was closing a door between them—and posting a No Trespassing sign.

He tipped the can against his lips again. Perhaps he should be grateful if she backed off. He wasn’t in the market for another complicated rela­tionship, and Val was complicated. Whatever secrets she harbored, whatever issues she was grappling with, could create problems for all of them. If he was smart, he’d follow the safe course. He’d write off her summertime visit as a chance encounter and forget about it—and her.

With a sigh, he rose and crushed the empty can in his hand. That plan was sound. Logical. Smart.

But his heart and his mind were duking it out when it came to Val.

And he had no idea which one would win.