“No, Chance. I haven’t changed my mind about the house.” Nik said, fiddling with the volume of the Bluetooth, fighting his second thoughts.

Chance had first called when he was signing a contract with a track hoe operator whom he’d hired to tear-down the house after his other operator had bailed on him. Nik had ignored the call, but when he got into the truck and started driving and Chance called again, he connected the call through his truck’s wireless connection. He was just driving, anyway. May as well talk.

“Just thought I’d check. You seemed a little uncertain last time we chatted.”

“Chatted? Seriously? You been watching girly movies again?” Nik chose to deflect rather than let his friend find even the smallest crack in his defenses. Chance was relentless in his desire to see Nik settle down.

“You could do with a few more chick flicks in your life. Help you get in touch with your softer side.”

“What can I do for you, buddy?” Nik said, getting to the point.

“Don’t tear down the house.”

Relentless.

“Well, I just spent all day yesterday and this morning lining up trucks and track hoes after my other contractor bailed on me, so that would be a no.”

“Bailed on you? When did that happen?”

“Thursday night.” After he had kissed Claire and then fought with regrets and concerns. “And this guy won’t be able to start for at least three weeks.”

“That’s interesting. Did you ever get the feeling that these delays are happening for a reason?”

“God intervening in my life?” Nik couldn’t keep the sardonic tone from his voice.

“Why not?”

“Because He never did before.”

Chance was quiet a moment. “He brought you into Mrs. Huizinga’s place. He gave you a healthy body and the ability to make a living. A good living, I might add.”

Nik had to concede that point.

“And He brought you back together with your mother and sister.”

“A mother who gave me up, but not her daughter.”

Another moment of quiet followed his outburst. Nik slowed down, making the long turn onto the road leading to Sweet Creek.

“Sounds to me, from what you’ve told me, that she was in a tight spot. I’m sure she didn’t do it because she didn’t love you. I’m sure she did it because she did.”

Chance’s reasonable words slipped in behind the anger that Nik had held onto for so long, nudging at it. His anger had defined his relationship with his mother. But every time he saw his mother face-to-face, that anger was harder to hold on to.

"I have to think of a quote from Psalms,” Chance said. “‘Can a mother forget the child of her womb?’ Or something like that. The fact that your mother held on to Cory and did what she could to keep her, shows that she probably regrets what she did with you. And if she had even had a chance, she would've kept you too."

Nik held that thought for a moment, letting it settle as he eased out another sigh.

“She was happy to see you, wasn’t she?”

“Not the first time.”

“Guilt is a hard thing to bear,” Chance said. "But they went looking for you, so I'm thinking she's been struggling with guilt and regret this whole time. That can't be easy for her."

His comments gave Nik more to mull over.

"I don't think you need to make this complicated,” Chance continued. “Allow yourself to see her as a broken human being who did the best she could. I know, deep down, you care about her, otherwise you wouldn’t feel so strongly about your perception of her giving you up for adoption.”

“See, this is why I keep you as my friend," Nik said. “You put things into perspective."

“Speaking of perspective, how are things with you and Claire?"

"I don't see how the two are connected," Nik said.

Though having the other contractor quit on him was a royal pain, he was thankful for the busyness it created. Rustling up a new contractor had kept him away from Claire and her precocious daughter the past couple of days. The kiss he had shared with Claire haunted him every waking minute.

He swallowed again, reliving that moment, that feeling of utter rightness he had never felt with anybody else.

“Not connected at all,” Chance said. “But I couldn't find a smoother way to segue from one into the other."

“The only thing I'll say is that it's complicated."

“This is a conversation, not an update on your Facebook status.”

“She has a kid," Nik said. “So that makes it complicated. I can't just waltz in and out of her life. It's not fair to Emma."

“Then don't waltz out,” Chance said. “Stick around.”

Nik tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, reason fighting with the lonely and yearning part of him that wanted to see Claire again. Wanted to spend time with her.

"I wish it were that easy," Nik said.

“Don't over analyze this," Chance said. “Sometimes it’s okay to decide with your heart, not your head.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Nik said. "I'll take it under advisement."

“And while you're doing that, once again, I'll be praying for you."

“I do appreciate that," Nik finally said. "One of these days, I should do that for myself."

“No time like the present," Chance said with a chuckle.

Nik was about to answer with some smart remark to lighten the mood, when a number flashed on the console of the truck showing another call coming in. Cory.

“Sorry, Chance. I have to take another call.”

“Popular guy this morning,” Chance said. “Take care and, like I said, don’t think about this too much. Be responsible but allow yourself some happiness.”

“That’s a contradiction if ever I heard one. But I’ll try.” He hit a button on his steering wheel to disconnect the call and connect with his sister.

“Hey Cory, how are you?” he said.

“Good. Catch you at a good time?”

“Just driving. Had to do a bunch of running around.”

“For the house?” Her hopeful tone made him feel guilty. The last time they spoke, she had offered to help him paint. He had smiled and thanked her, unable to tell her the truth about his long-term plans.

“Yeah,” was all he said, again being intentionally vague.

“It was good to see you at baseball practice the other day,” she said, the warmth in her voice coming through the phone. “It made me feel so good to have actual family around. Hasn’t happened before.”

“I know what that feels like,” he said. “So yeah, it was fun for me, too.”

“I feel like I’m constantly invading your life.”

“That’s okay. You’re my sister.” He smiled as he spoke those words. “I’ve never had a sister before.”

“But you had a foster sister?”

“Not really.” He couldn't go back there so soon. Not after practically crying in Claire’s arms. The memory brought a mixture of shame that he had been so weak, yet it also produced a feeling of peace. Of coming home.

The irony of this happening in the place he least considered home wasn’t lost on him.

“We can delve into that later,” Cory said. “I wanted to see if you are busy this afternoon. I know I should have called sooner, but my brain hasn’t been functioning well the past few days.”

“Too much wedding planning?”

“Something like that. Anyhow, Matthew, Mom and I are going to the church picnic and we’d love it if you could come. It starts at 5:00 and will be at the main park just off Main Street, across from City Hall. But if you want supper, bring your wallet. There’s a basket auction.”

“Are you making one?”

“Well, yeah,” she spoke as if this were a foregone conclusion.

“Let me guess, you want me to come so I bid on yours in case Matthew doesn’t,” he teased.

“That might be a consideration. I should warn Matthew he might have a contender.” She chuckled, and the sound warmed another lonely part of Nik’s soul. Their easy give and take surprised him. They barely knew each other and yet she was comfortable to be around. Biology truly created a connection which was difficult to explain. “Anyhow, it’s just a casual event. Might be a good time for you to re-connect with Mom. I know the last visit was kinda tense.”

“It was hard to find out that Mom kept you and gave me up.” His words sounded harsh, but he couldn’t stop the truth.

Another beat of silence followed his admission.

“She told you the reasons.”

“Which explains what happened to her but didn’t help me much.” He pressed his lips together as he fought other emotions. He'd never had a hard time keeping them under control before. But since he met his mother and Cory and since Claire, it was getting harder.

“I’m sure it didn’t,” she said, her voice quietly understanding. “And I wish we could change that.”

“It’s done,” he said. Abandonment was something he’d been dealing with for many years. Rebecca took him for counselling, which helped him identify the issue. He thought by doing that he’d put it behind him, but his reaction to his mother’s story made him realize what a joke that was.

Allow yourself to think of her as a broken human being.

Chance’s words returned, creating a flurry of other emotions.

“We would like to see you again,” Cory continued. “Please consider coming. If not for Mom, then for me. You don’t have to spend the whole time with us. Even just a few moments would be nice.”

“I’ll think about it.”

Apparently, she wasn’t the only one hoping he would show up. He had to smile as he thought of Emma’s blatant appeal for him to attend.

“Okay. That’s all I can ask for. We have to leave, so maybe we’ll see you there.”

He said goodbye as the truck swooped down the hill and over the river into town. He turned off and drove down Main Street, slowing as he passed the two and three-story brick buildings with their moldings and fancy windows. Wrought iron lampposts curled over the street. Flowers, still blooming, hung from hooks below the lights. Benches flanked by flower pots dotted the brick sidewalks. Each corner of the street also held large brick planters overflowing with purple, pink and white petunias.

His foster mother would have loved this place. He appreciated what the town had done to maintain an old-world beauty without succumbing to kitsch.

Nice place to live, he thought, slowing suddenly as a young boy rolled across the street on a skateboard, licking on an ice cream cone as his dog pulled him along. The boy waved nonchalantly at Nik, clearly unperturbed by the fact that he held Nik up. Despite his minor annoyance, Nik smiled back. His smile grew more genuine when the boy stopped on the other side of the street to talk to a group of young girls.

He remembered walking down these streets the few times he’d sneaked out of the house. It was often quieter when the stores were closed but the Riverside Inn was open, as were a few pubs. He would saunter down the sidewalk, as if he belonged there, his heart pounding each time he heard someone call out. The penalty for his momentary freedom would be hard and swift, but only if he were caught. So he made sure he wasn't.

He made another turn down a winding street that followed the river.

As he got closer to the house, the old familiar dread seeped into his veins. He sucked in a deep breath as he parked his truck on the driveway.

Claire’s car was gone. Probably at the picnic.

Nik shut the engine off, staring at his trailer. The thought of going in there and eating supper by himself held no appeal. Nor did going out for supper by himself.

There’s the picnic.

Cory wanted him to come. Emma wanted him to come.

And he would see Claire again.

Drumming his fingers, he considered his options. Spend time with people or sit and brood in an empty trailer?

Be alone or possibly see Claire?

Before he could change his mind, he started up the truck again, backed out of the driveway and headed back to the park.

He parked his truck a couple of blocks away because there were so many vehicles. He wondered how popular a church picnic could be. Turned out; very.

Thankfully the weather was balmy. Sun shone and a few

leaves that had already changed skittered across the road in front of him. Soon they would all be yellow and orange. He looked up to the mountains that protected the town, remembering how they glowed like they were lit from within when the aspen and poplar trees changed color. And then, later, how snow blanketed the harsh rock, softening the edges, sharply delineating the snowy peaks against a blue sky. The times he had snuck out and walked around, he could not keep his eyes off the mountains sheltering the town, wishing things were different for him. Wishing he were staying with another family so he could enjoy being here.

In his meanderings he would sometimes walk past the school, wondering if he would see Claire. Occasionally he did but she never seemed to notice him.

The confusing memories, some good, some bad, blended with each other as he walked closer to the park, still thinking of Claire. He heard music and people talking, someone was speaking over an intercom system.

“So, we got another basket for your consideration,” the announcer said.

Sounded like the auction had started and, as Nik got closer, he saw some people sitting by tables, already eating and others waiting, gathered around a large gazebo in the middle of the park.

He stayed on the edge, looking over the crowd, trying to find Cory.

Or Claire.

“Hello there. Are you visiting?” A woman with long, blonde hair, and a baby carrier over one arm stopped by his side.

“Is it that obvious?” Nik shifted his stance, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You looked like you weren’t sure where to go. Do you want a guide?” She angled her head toward the crowd. “Just follow me.”

He was about to protest, still not certain he wanted to be there, but it would be rude to ignore her. So he followed her past the overhanging trees to the open space now filled with people.

“By the way, my name is Sheryl Andrews. That’s my husband, Mark, handing the baskets to the auctioneer.” She flashed him a teasing smile. “In case you thought I was coming on to you.”

“Thanks for that.”

“I know you single guys.” She grinned again, holding up the baby car seat. “This is a guaranteed romance killer.”

He frowned, unsure what to make of her comment.

“Sorry. I’m feeling feisty,” she said, sensing his discomfort. “We just found out that little Nathaniel here won’t need the surgery the doctors had been warning us about, so I’m on top of the world babbling to anyone who will listen.”

“Oh. I see.” He wasn’t sure what to say to that except, “Congratulations. That’s good news.”

“I know. Oversharing with a stranger,” she said. “But we are just so pleased. Such an answer to prayer. There’s nothing like knowing your child will be okay to put a spring in a mother’s step.”

And no sooner had she spoken then he saw his own mother heading toward them. She was walking on her own, her eyes locked on him.

As Cory smiled and waved, Sheryl’s gaze bounced between them and him. “I’m glad, for Joyce’s sake, that you came here to see her.” Sheryl sighed. “You are so fortunate to have your mother in your life. Mine died when I was young. I still miss her.”

Her words only added another layer of unwelcome guilt. He didn’t want to be reminded of his angry reunion with his mother and how he should be thankful to have her back in his life. Right now, he preferred to think about Claire and how being with her filled the lonely spaces in his soul.

“Sheryl, nice to see you,” Cory said as she and Joyce joined them. “How is little Nathaniel doing?”

“Healthy as a horse, so we’re thankful.”

Cory lifted the blanket covering the baby carrier and smiled down at the baby. He gurgled and kicked his feet, the picture of health.

“He’s so adorable,” Cory said.

“You have to say that.” Sheryl grinned. “But Mark and I think so and that’s all that counts.”

“But he is,” Joyce put in, looking down at him, her smile melancholy. “Children are a precious gift.”

Nik couldn’t stop his thoughts from sifting back. Was she thinking about when he was a baby? Wasn’t he a precious gift for her?

I didn’t want to give you up… I thought it was the best thing.

Joyce’s anguished words slipped into his mind and as she looked over at him, he caught the glint of tears in her eyes. And he couldn’t help an answering throb of his heart, an echo of his own pain.

Allow yourself to see her as a broken human being.

“We should all walk down to the auction,” Sheryl said, flipping the blanket over the carrier again, a small tent for her son, breaking the tense moment.

“Good idea. We don’t want Nik missing out on buying that special basket,” Cory said, giving him a cheeky smile.

“Will he give Matthew a run for his money?” Sheryl asked.

“Maybe. Or he might bid on Claire’s.”

“Claire’s?” Sheryl’s curious gaze flicked from Cory to Nik.

No one spoke for a moment and Cory shot him an apologetic look. “Sorry. Slipped out.”

“Interesting,” was all Sheryl said, a cheeky smile slipping across her mouth. She looked like she wanted to say more but they were close to the gazebo now and her husband was calling her to come over.

“Sorry. Gotta go. You all take care,” she said, fluttering her fingers at them and walking toward the gazebo, the baby carrier resting on her hip.

Cory turned to Nik, looking contrite. “Sorry about what I said in front of Sheryl. She’s discreet. I don’t think she’ll say anything to anyone.”

“It’s okay.” He had nothing else to say. He didn’t want to talk about Claire in front of his sister or Joyce.

“Anyhow, we’re sitting over there,” Cory said, pointing to a grove of trees, where a few other people already had chairs out.

He walked alongside them, surprised Joyce could keep up. The last time he saw her she looked as if she couldn’t sit up, let alone walk.

“You seem better today, Joyce,” he said as she sat down in the lawn chairs Cory had set out.

“I feel a lot better.” She gave him a tentative smile, as if uncertain of his response. Which made Nik think of what Chance had told him. He returned her smile.

Just love her.

So he reached over and laid his hand over hers, tightening his grip. And when her smile blossomed, so did something deep within him.

And when he noticed Claire and Emma sitting just a few feet ahead of him, a tiny glimmer of other possibilities grew as well.

* * *

“He’s the cutest baby ever,” Emma proclaimed as Claire knelt down on the quilt Sheryl had spread out and lifted the blanket up from the baby carrier Sheryl Andrews had set on the ground beside her.

“He is adorable,” Claire agreed, smiling over at Sheryl.

“You’re talking to a very biased mother,” Sheryl said, stroking his tiny head with a gentle hand.

“Was I ever that little?” Emma asked.

“Yes. Hard to believe you were.” Claire felt a momentary pang of envy as she watched Emma coo over the baby. Claire had always wanted a large family. Kids born close together. A stairstep family.

Now Emma was six and there wasn’t much chance of her getting siblings any time soon.

“Mommy. Look. Nik is here,” Emma said, clapping her hands as she stood. “He came.”

Claire kept her eyes on Nathanial, though she wanted nothing more than to turn her head to see where Nik was. A flush warmed her cheeks as she thought of the kiss they had shared and how after that, he’d left and didn’t return.

And now he was here, creating a peculiar lift of her heart.

“I’m going to talk to him,” Emma said. But Claire caught her arm as she scrambled to her feet.

“Leave him alone,” Claire said. If he wanted to see them, he could come to her. No way was she chasing after some guy.

“But he’s just sitting with his mom and Cory.”

The momentary joy she felt at his arrival was quashed. Of course. He wasn’t here to see her. He only came for his mother and sister.

“I could tell him to come and join us,” Sheryl said, giving Claire a sly smile. “I was just talking to him. I think Cory and Joyce aren’t the only reason he’s here.”

“Folks we’ve got another lovely basket to sell,” Matthew McKnight was calling out, thankfully sparing Claire from saying anything. “And it’s not my fiancée’s,” Matthew continued. “Or I would be out in the audience bidding.”

“Thanks for the heads up,” someone called out from the gathered group. “When you stop auctioning and start bidding I’ll know to give you some competition”

“Very funny, Anton,” Matthew said with a nod toward the older man. “But you might end up eating with Cory after all.”

“Your loss. My gain.”

As the two chatted and badgered each other, Claire thought of Nik, Sheryl’s words slipping through her mind. Then Mark Andrews picked up the next basket to be auctioned off, and her heart jumped.

“Mommy. That’s yours,” Emma whispered, leaning toward Claire.

“Shh. It’s supposed to be a secret.” Claire put her finger to her lips, then glanced behind her.

And looked directly into Nik’s eyes. He, Cory and their mother were only ten feet away. Which made it likely he had heard Emma’s stage whisper. Which made her think her daughter had said it on purpose.

She looked ahead, trying to still the erratic beating of her heart. This was crazy. She had to keep things under control.

The previous basket was now sold and then hers was being inspected by Matthew.

“So this one looks like a real winner. I wish I could bid on it myself,” Matthew was saying. “I think I recognize some of the packaging.” He glanced directly at Claire, winked at her, then held it up and the bidding started.

Claire desperately wanted to see who was bidding, but if Nik was, she didn’t want to know. Mark was pointing to bidders, the amount of the bids increasing each time.

"Nik isn't bidding on your basket," Emma wailed, grabbing at her arm. "I should go over there and tell him to. I want to eat our basket with him.”

Claire caught Emma's hand before she could make a move. She pulled her daughter onto her lap, wrapping her arms around her. "You just stay here, honey," Claire said. "We know just about everybody here, and whoever bids on my basket doesn't matter. The money is to fix up the kitchen in the church which is a good thing.”

"But I want to sit with Nik," Emma complained, wiggling in Claire's arms.

"You just never mind," Claire said.

Claire forced her attention back to Matthew who was trying to keep up with the bids as they came in fast and furious. Claire was surprised herself at how high her basket was going but restrained her curiosity, keeping her attention on Matthew.

"300, 300, 325 anywhere, 300?" Matthew held his hand up glancing around, asking again. He waited for what seemed like forever then finally pointed in Claire's direction. "Sold," he called out. "To the newest member of our community, Nik Austen.”

Emma spun around so fast she almost twisted Claire's hand. "Nik bought our basket," she crowed.

Claire's cheeks burned, as Nik walked up to Matthew and took the basket from him then walked over to Claire. "So I guess this means we get to eat together," he said. To her surprise he was smiling at her.

Suddenly his silence of the last few days, didn't matter as much.

"I'm not sure of the protocol," he said still holding her gaze. “What happens next?”

"My mom has a blanket, and we take it over to a spot under the trees and we put out the blanket and then we sit and eat our food," Emma said helpfully. She got up and to Claire’s dismay, slipped her arm through Nik’s. “We can go eat right now, we don’t have to wait for the other baskets to sell.”

Nik smiled down at Claire, and the fragile hope his kiss had resurrected the other night became a gentle glow.

He switched the basket and held out his free hand to her. Her cheeks grew even redder as she tucked her folded blanket under one arm, took his hand and let him pull her up to her feet. She kept her head down as she walked alongside him holding her blanket in front of her like a shield. She knew her parents were there and most of the members of the church. This was a very public display of a very tentative relationship.

That Nik was willing to do what he did created a sense of expectation.

“This looks like a good spot,” Emma announced when they came to a large tree. “Can you lay your blanket down, Mom? I’m getting really hungry.”

Claire looked over her shoulder to where Cory and Joyce sat, dismayed to see Cory winking at her. “Did you want to sit with your mother and sister?” she asked Nik. From the way Cory was grinning at her, she would have preferred not to join her friend but it felt rude to ignore them.

“It’s okay,” Nik said. “I just arranged to visit them tomorrow for lunch. Besides, I bought your basket and that means I get to sit with you.”

Claire shook up the blanket and let it settle, trying not to feel awkward, wishing she could dampen her expectation.

“My mom made some really good food,” Emma said, kneeling down on the blanket. “She said we didn’t have lots of good food in our kitchen, so I was allowed to help put the basket together. I took some of my favorite stuff from the cafe, and some healthy food, even though I think I like the other stuff better.”

Her chatter filled the silence that had fallen between Nik and Claire.

“See, my mom put paper plates here and plastic utensils so we have something to eat with.” Emma untied the ribbon at the top and pulled the cellophane off the basket, then looked up at Claire and Nik. “You guys can sit down, too.”

Claire released a nervous laugh then did as Emma told her to. Nik sat on the other side of Emma.

“No. This is all wrong. You are supposed to sit together. Side by side,” Emma commanded.

“I think Nik can sit where he wants,” Claire said.

Emma seemed to realize she had overstepped but she didn’t seem perturbed.

“But before we have to eat we need to pray.”

“That's right,” Claire agreed, giving her daughter a smile but also adding a warning look. Emma gave her an apologetic smile.

“So, let’s pray,” Claire said. And before she could fold her hands in her lap, Emma reached out to Nik and to Claire. She shot a sideways look at Nik, surprised to see him smiling at her, his hand outstretched.

She swallowed down her trepidation and took his hand. He curled his fingers around hers and once again her heart jumped. With a shake of her head, she turned her attention back to God, taking a moment to center herself. To know that she was approaching the Creator and Savior of the world.

She thanked God for the food and for the good weather and paused a moment before thanking him for the company and for the time they could spend together.

She said “Amen” just as Nik tightened his hand on hers. The warmth of his hand was a comfort and a connection she was loathe to break.

But Emma was handing out the plates and napkins, eager to begin.

“So, dig in,” Claire said, handing Nik the basket.

“I’m sure it’s all really good, but what is on the menu?”

“This one is a turkey, provolone and pesto sandwich, hopefully still warm,” Claire said, taking out a foil and paper wrapped roll. “This one is Fontinie, prosciutto, fig and arugula on a ciabatta grilled on a panini maker. This one is Canadian bacon, sun dried tomato, spinach, soft mozzarella and secret sauce.”

“Wow. These aren’t just sandwiches. They sound like a gourmet feast.” Nik scratched the side of his nose glancing at Emma. “Do you know what prosciutto is? Or pesto?”

Emma shrugged and shook her head. “Not really. I don’t like them anyway.” She dug into the basket and pulled out a package that had her name on it. “This one is for me,” she said, showing it to Nik. “And it’s my favorite.”

“So, what’s on that one?”

“Peanut butter and jelly.”

Nik made a face. “Seriously? With all these amazing sounding sandwiches you’re taking that?”

“It’s the best.”

“So, which one do you want?” Claire asked, turning the basket toward him.

“Why don’t you pick for me?”

Claire handed him the turkey and pesto and took the Canadian bacon and tomato one for herself. She gave him a bottle of water and handed Emma a juice box.

They were quiet for a moment, concentrating on eating. In the background, Matthew was still calling out bids, encouraging people to go higher. People were laughing and above and around them a faint breeze whispered through the trees.

Emma was done eating in mere seconds. She slurped her juice down then, to Claire’s surprise, brushed the crumbs off her clothes and jumped to her feet. “Marla and Chris are playing on the slides. Can I go?”

“Sure. I guess.” Claire had thought for sure she would want to stay with Nik, especially after her little stunt the other night when she finagled a Chinese checkers game out of him.

Emma was off like a shot, her hair streaming behind her.

“She’s a busy one, isn’t she?” Nik said, watching her running to the park.

“Tell me,” Claire said.

“It must be difficult, managing her and your business, and keeping sane at the same time.”

“How do you know I’m sane?” Claire said with a grin, surprised once again at how comfortable she felt with him.

“I don’t think you’re insane,” Nik protested, looking taken aback.

“Do you think I’m incapable? Or incompetent or ingenious?”

“I think you’re capable, competent and probably a genius.”

“Flatterer,” she said, her heart opening up at their easy ribbing. In spite of what had happened the other night, or maybe because of it, she felt surprisingly comfortable around him.

She took another bite of her sandwich just as some sauce dribbled down her chin. She swiped at it, her cheeks flushing.

Then to her dismay, Nik smiled, took her chin in his hand and dabbed the corner of her mouth. “There. Now you’re all good.”

But he didn’t let go of her chin and his eyes locked on hers. She swallowed, her breath quickening, her heart fluttering.

Then his fingers lightly caressed her cheek and he dropped his hand.

“About the other night…” he started.

But she waved off his apology.

“It’s okay. I understand.” She didn’t want to hear his regrets about kissing her. He was too close, and she was feeling too vulnerable. He had turned her world upside down and she still wasn't sure what to think of it all. She had her daughter to consider, yet the loneliness haunting her the past few years, the desire to have someone think about her, think about her needs, had only grown.

"I wanted you to know I wasn't apologizing for kissing you,” he continued despite her protest. “I was trying to say I was sorry for breaking down on you. I have to confess I didn't feel very manly."

Her heart shifted, and she felt a sudden relief.

“I think it takes a real man to express his emotions. To be vulnerable." She gave him a careful smile, surprised at how good his confession made her feel.

“Maybe, but it’s not manly to admit to.”

“Probably not, but I’m glad you trusted me enough to let me know. It’s seldom men are so willing to open up.”

Nik tilted his head to one side as if examining her from another angle. "You sound sad. Are you thinking about Emma's father?"

"You're way too astute for me," she said.

"What was he like?"

"It doesn't matter," she said giving her head a shake.

"I wish I could say it didn't, but given that I kissed you and wasn’t sorry I did, given that I broke down in your arms and that, in front of your entire community, I bought your lunch basket, I think it matters a little.”

His words created a tiny thrill, a beat of expectation, a glimmer of hope.

“Tell me,” he insisted.

She shrugged and gave in.

“Andy Donnel was the first real boyfriend I ever had. We dated in high school, and I was crazy about him, but he wasn’t very demonstrative, and I accepted that because I didn’t know any different. Looking back now, I think we slipped from being friends to dating, to getting engaged. It was easy and convenient. We’d known each other all our lives. It wasn’t the great romantic love story, but I thought that’s just how things went. After we were engaged, he put pressure on me to… to be more… intimate…” her voice faded off as she looked down, struggling with the usual shame she knew she shouldn’t carry but couldn’t let go of.

“It’s okay, I think I know where you’re going,” Nik said. “You don’t have to say anything more.”

“Anyway, we pushed the wedding date up, got married, moved into a tiny apartment and after Emma was born Andy changed.”

“How so?” Nik encouraged.

Part of her wanted to stop but everyone around her knew her story so she had never talked about Andy and the repercussions for her. What it had truly been like.

“He would go to the bar after work, come home drunk and angry, accusing me and Emma of ruining his life.” Claire shook her head, glancing over to where Emma was playing, laughing and running around. “As if that beautiful child was something to regret.”

“She certainly isn’t.”

He sounded sad and Claire shot him a puzzled look, but he was looking at Emma as well, his eyes holding the same sorrow his voice did. She sensed his story held more layers, but then he seemed to shake it off.

“So, what happened to him?” he continued. “Did he leave you?”

“Yes. He did.” It had been over five years but the betrayal still stung. “I remember waking up the next morning and he wasn’t there. At first, I thought he might be sleeping off another bender. I brought Emma to the day home. But when I came home from work, Andy still wasn’t back.” Claire stopped a moment, fighting down the usual anger her memories created. The humiliation. She took a deep, calming breath and carried on. “A couple of days later I got a text from him. He wasn’t coming home. He didn’t want to have anything to do with me or Emma. He wanted a divorce.” She didn’t add the other awful things he had said. Though she deleted the text as soon as she read it, the words were indelibly branded into her mind.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Nik said, taking her hand in his again.

“I was, too.” She kept her eyes on their interlocked hands, her thumb caressing the back of his. It felt good to hold his hand, larger than her own, holding a few scars, large and strong.

“So you’re divorced?”

“Actually, no. We never did manage to get the papers signed. I’m a widow. Andy was killed crossing the street as he left a bar a year ago. He still had life insurance and I was still the beneficiary which gave me something at least.”

“But not enough for a down payment on the house?”

“I used the money to start Coffee Creek. I figured I needed income before I could buy a house. I kept a few thousand aside for my house fund. Selling Andy’s car was supposed to top it up.” She shook her head. “But we both know how that ended.”

“You’ve had a hard road, too,” he said.

She gave him a sad-half-smile as acknowledgement. “I have. But I was blessed to have the support of my family and my church community.”

“No condemnation from them?”

“Of course not. I’m sure there were a few people who thought I should have done more. Andy’s mother being one of them.”

“Are Andy’s parents still around here?”

“No. Andy’s father died before we got married so at least he didn’t have to see what happened to his son. His mother moved to Florida.”

“Does she ever seem Emma?”

Another flicker of pain. “No. She was always convinced Emma wasn’t Andy’s child. And she was never close to Andy. So she has stayed out of our lives.”

Nik sighed lightly. “That must hurt.”

“It did at one time. But I can’t change her mind and, truthfully, it’s a little easier this way. My parents love Emma to death and she has no memory of her father or my in-laws. So I’m hoping I’ve done right by her. It’s tough being a single mom. You’re always second guessing every choice you make.”

“I’m sure it is,” Nik said, pausing before asking his next question. “Do you ever feel like you can’t do it anymore? Be a mom?”

“There are times where I’ve wondered if I should have married Andy. Wondered if maybe Emma wouldn’t have been better off if I had given her up. But I was never alone in all of this. Like I said, I had my family and I had my faith. My prayers and the prayers of my family held me up. If I had been on my own, who knows what choices I might have made.”

“Choices like my mother made.” Nik pulled his hands out of hers and leaned against the tree behind him, looking over to where his mother, Cory and now Matthew were sitting.

“Are you still struggling with that?”

Nik kept his eyes averted and Claire wondered if she were pushing too hard. But she knew things were shifting between them. They were moving in a dangerous direction. She couldn’t simply go with the flow and see where it took her. She had Emma to think of.

And she had her own heart to watch.

So, she had to know where he was at with his other relationships.

“It’s hard sometimes. I’ve held onto my anger against my mother so long, I’m not sure how to dump it or where.”

“What would your foster mother say?” she asked, sensing this woman had a large influence on his life.

Nik chuckled lightheartedly, then turned back to Claire. She was happy to see a genuine smile on his face. “She would say I should put it at the foot of the cross.”

“That sounds like a good place to put a lot of what burdens us.”

“Is it that easy though?”

Claire thought of her anger with Andy. Her pain at his desertion of her and his rejection of their daughter. Her own struggles, even now, with the house and what she wanted.

“It should be, though I don't do it as often as I should, either.”

“Well, as far as my mother goes, my friend gave me some good advice. He said sometimes, if one goes through the motions, the feelings will follow. So I will make work of being with my mother and sister. Spend more time with them.”

Claire swallowed at the sincerity in his voice. At what he was suggesting.

If he was spending more time with them, would he become more connected to this place?

Would he change his mind about staying?