Jace sat on the front steps of Addison’s house facing his old home. It would have been funny if he were in an ironic mood. Instead, he was worried.

He’d insisted on taking her to the emergency room. There, he’d found out a couple of things. One, she had gestational diabetes, and her blood sugar was low. Two, the doctor now wanted her on bed rest until the baby came. It was due, he found out, in roughly four weeks.

On the way to her house, she’d been quiet, only answering him when he kept asking how he could help her. He had already figured out a way to bring her car back to the house, which he would do in a bit. One of his teammates would come pick him up and take him there so he could drive her car to her home.

There was so much more to this situation. When Addison had been asked for an emergency number, she’d given the number of Mrs. Hensley, the old cat lady who lived next door. Jace didn’t know much about the almost ninety-year-old woman, only that she’d bugged him unceasingly about getting his front light changed when it had gone out, but she always had a passel of cats in front of her house.

The nurse asked if she had family, and Addison had replied no. Of course, he hadn’t wanted to pry about Tim or how he’d died.

When he’d insisted on helping get her situated in her bedroom, she’d protested but finally relented. At first inspection, the house was tidy, but when he’d gone to get her a drink of water, he’d opened the fridge, because the icemaker wasn’t working, and he’d found it bare except for some cottage cheese and apples. The rest of the house was okay, but it looked like it needed a good cleaning.

This was no way for a pregnant lady to live.

His teammate Frankie showed up in his car, and Jace hopped in.

“Man, what are you doing with a pregnant woman?” Frankie grunted at him and then took off. Jace had explained the situation on the phone.

“Hey to you too.”

“Dude, weren’t you supposed to be having dinner at the ranch with your parents? Your mom’s cooking.” He sighed and appeared to be suffering. “What I would do for a mother who cooked for me like yours cooks for you.”

Jace could only imagine how his mother was probably more upset he’d been at Cubbies than the fact he had actually taken a pregnant woman to the hospital. Jace ignored it. “My mother will be fine.”

When they got to Cubbies and he got out of Frankie’s car, Frankie rolled down his window. “So what are you going to do?”

Jace shook his head. “I don’t know.”

Frankie sighed. “Man, this can’t be your problem. You know that, right? You have a big contract negotiation in the works. You’re headed to the top, and you can’t get your head messed up by a pregnant woman whose husband is dead.”

Hearing Frankie be so unfeeling put him off. “Whatever.” He turned to her car.

“Jace,” Frankie said insistently.

Jace unlocked her car and opened the door, turning back to him. “What?”

Frankie rolled his eyes. “I feel bad for her too, but focus is the only thing guys like us got. If we don’t keep our focus, our careers fall apart. You know this.” Frankie had been a good friend to him after he became messed up with everything that Stacy had done to him.

Jace didn’t respond. Adrenaline coursed through him, preparing him for a fight. He wanted to argue but knew Frankie was partially right. Then he thought of the way she’d said, “I found that receipt” right before passing out. What did that mean?

Frankie pointed at him and started pulling away. “Take her car back. Then get to the ranch and tell your mom and dad hi for me.”

Jace watched him drive away, still unable to get the nagging feeling that he had to do something for Addison out of his mind. It couldn’t be a coincidence he ran into her tonight and she passed out in his arms.

He had a gut feeling this was not a mistake. It felt like those precious moments when he would run for the end zone and know, literally know, the ball was going to end up in his hands.

No, this had happened for a reason.

After getting her car back to the house, he went in to check on her.

Walking into the front of her house brought back a lot of memories. Their floor plans were identical, just mirrored, but her walls were filled with pictures, some art and some of people or trips. His ex-wife had never gotten around to putting stuff on the walls. He wondered if that should have been a sign. She wasn’t a stayer. Or she was a leaver or cheater or something.

The past couple of months, he’d worked to strengthen himself mentally. He read some books by Cooper Harrison in addition to the gratitude affirmations. He’d also been making donations to the nonprofit group she worked with. Anonymously, of course.

Looking around, he knew she needed help. He wondered if he could help with the bills, vaguely remembering she worked from home.

A thought struck him out of the blue, was this the reason he’d gone to Cubbies today? So he could help her?

Warm chills rushed over him. He didn’t believe in things like destiny or fate. He’d always known hard work was the only thing that ever got him anything. He did believe in God though. Was God telling him something now?

Walking back to her room, he hesitated before pushing the door open. She was in the same spot he’d left her, under the covers, propped up on pillows. The sun was down, and the moonlight shone brightly into her home. Her eyes were closed.

It was strange how protective he felt about her since he’d found out Tim had died.

As he turned to walk down the hall, he remembered seeing her face through the window, the day he’d sold his house. He remembered feeling guilty because he wanted to get to know her even though she was married. Well, now she wasn’t married.

She was, however, pregnant.

He shook his head and grunted. This whole situation was ridiculous. Wandering back to the kitchen, he thought he should at least run to the grocery store and get her some food so she would have something to eat in the morning.

Heading to his car, he thought about who would make sure she was eating every morning. Who would make sure she was okay if her blood sugar dropped too low again? He cursed and tightened his grip around the keys.

Was it him? Was he really sent to help this woman? In another flood of chills, he remembered being twelve and alone at the ranch one night. He’d heard someone breaking in, and he’d just known he’d had to run from his house. Later, when he’d gotten to the house down the street, they’d called the cops and found a bunch of punk kids had broken in and shot some stuff up. That impression had saved his life years ago. Now, he had that same type of feeling. It was telling him to stay, and he knew he couldn’t deny it.

Getting into his car, he felt all keyed up like he was about to go into a big game. He cursed again. He couldn’t believe it, but he was going to do it. He was going to move in with this woman and help her.

Backing out of the driveway, he told his Bluetooth to call his mother, which was worse than facing down a 300-pound linebacker.