Page 30 of Bountiful
Leo stopped walking. “That’s kindaweird.”
“No kidding.” It didn’t make a lick ofsense.
He put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m going to have a seat.” He pointed at a flat rock on the riverbank. “I’ll check in with Georgia. You can try to talk to Zara,maybe?”
“Yeah. I’ll do that.” Usually I didn’t chase after women who didn’t want to see me. But the way she was studying my card—as if the secrets of the universe were written there—definitely piqued mycuriosity.
I made my way across the lawn. She hadn’t spotted me yet. By design, there was very little on that card I’d given her—just a business email address that my sister checked on my behalf, and a phone number that went to Bess’s office. It was a card designed to blow off people who didn’t deserve my private attention. I would have given Zara my real number to add to the card, but she’d run away before I got thechance.
I slowed my steps as I approached, because she seemed so lost inside her own head. “Heythere.”
She startled, and when she turned that gorgeous face up in my direction, her eyeslookeddamp.
I stopped a few feet shy of the bench, not wanting to crowd someone who looked so shaken up. “Areyouokay?”
Zara swallowed hard. “No. Not really.” Trust Zara to answer that questionhonestly.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you want me togoaway?”
Slowly she shook her head. “I need you to sit down for a minute. Unless you’re dashing offsomewhere.”
“I’ve got some time,” I saidslowly.
She took a deep breath, which came out shaky. “This won’t take long.Sitdown.”
Isat.
“Didn’t expect to see you walk into my coffee shop today. It was a shock.” Her slim hands pressed my business card between them, and I was taken back in time two years. I’d had those hands all over my body, their comforting sweep across my chest after we’d made love. I’d never enjoyed anyone so much as I’d enjoyed her. Not before, and notsince.
But something was wrong now. I couldfeelit.
“Is that your coffee shop?” I asked, trying to bring myself back to the present. “You don’t manage the Goat for your uncleanymore?”
She looked up quickly. “Goodmemory.”
“Who could forget?” I smiled at her, hoping to diffuse whatever tension was eatingather.
It didn’t work, though. If anything, her face only became more serious. “I don’t tend bar anymore because I need to be home at night. The coffee shop’s hours are a betterschedule.”
“I’ll bet.” A sweet breeze drifted off the river, chasing tendrils of her hair across her face, and I itched to reach out and sweep them away. But something heldmeback.
“Look,” Zara said, reaching into her pocket for her phone. “I need to tell yousomething.”
Even then, I didn’t see itcoming.
She tapped on the screen. Then she took a deep breath and looked me square in the eye. “This is Nicole. She’s fifteenmonthsold.”
Even though my brain wasn’t doing the math yet, I took the phone. On the screen was a photo of a baby clutching a blanket. She had hair the color of a copperpenny.
Just like mine had been when I wassmall.
That’s when I understood. My throat closed up suddenly. The world went a little haywire, and I heard the sound of my pulse in my ears. “You…” I stuttered. “You can’t mean…” My stomach bottomed out. I pushed the phone toward Zara as if I could make the truth disappear just by avoiding thatphoto.
“I’m so…” She made an audible gulping sound. “Sorry. Springing it on you…” She swallowed with difficulty. “I never thought I’d see you again. Didn’t even know whoyouwere.”
“But it’snotpossible.” My mind spun. A child. Achild?This could not be happening. “We used condoms.” Even as the words left my mouth, I knew how stupid they sounded. Condoms failed allthetime.
Zara’s expression darkened. “Sure we used them.Mostly.”
