Nothing.
So he knocked again before he lost his nerve. Harder.
“Just a minute.” Her voice sounded thin and far away, filtering through the screens of open windows.
It took a few moments before Annie finally opened the door. She wore socks that slouched around her ankles and shorts with a baggy T-shirt. Her thick, dark blond hair looked as though it had been pulled back in a hurry. She had a wet washcloth in her hand. Had she been cleaning?
“Maybe I should have called,” Matthew said.
Her beautiful eyes widened with surprise. “That would have been a good idea.”
He smiled, searched for some smart comment to tease her with and then frowned. She looked pale, and a sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. “Hey, are you okay?”
Her face went white. She grasped the washcloth to her mouth and ran for the bathroom off the kitchen. He could hear her retch from where he stood, still on the porch.
Quietly, he entered and closed the door. “What’s wrong, have you got the flu? I heard it’s going around.” Or was that old news he’d heard before going out on the lakes?
“Must be.”
He could hear the water running as he made his way into the kitchen. He settled the bag of tea from Ginger’s store on the counter and then filled the teakettle with fresh cold water, placed it on the stove and turned up the heat.
He’d never made tea from loose leaves before, but he’d watched Annie do it a thousand times. He fished around the utensil drawer until he found the silver ball he’d seen her use. Then he pulled out the plastic bag of tea and a piece of paper fluttered to the counter.
He glanced at the list of ingredients. Ginger root, spearmint leaf, red raspberry leaf, orange peel, chamomile, peppermint leaf and lemon balm.
What was lemon balm? Might as well be grass clippings.
He opened cupboards and then closed them.
“What are you doing?”
He turned, not liking the wary look in her eyes. “I’m looking for a teapot.”
Her color hadn’t returned. If anything, she looked even paler. And too thin. She’d lost weight. Annie’s hair was wet, like she’d missed when splashing water on her face. She still managed to look beautiful, though. But fragile.
She came forward, her movements lithe and graceful. Annie had a dancer’s body—long and lean even though she wasn’t all that tall. He’d never gone to any of her performances. He wasn’t a ballet kind of guy, but maybe he’d missed something special. She opened a lower cupboard, pulling out a round pink pot, and set it on the counter. Then she grabbed two mugs from an upper cupboard.
He leaned against the sink, out of her way. He would have kept the pot next to the cups considering they got used every day, but then he didn’t have much in the way of dishes at his place so who was he to criticize.
She glanced at him. Wary.
“Thanks.” Okay, yeah. Maybe he was a little afraid of her, too. Of touching her. Look what had happened the last time.
“Thank you for the tea.” She peeked inside the bag and picked up the paper. Her eyes widened and her face flushed.
He reached out and touched her shoulder. Felt her tremble. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Fine. Yes. I’ll be fine.”
She didn’t look fine. She looked upset, like she might even cry. He prayed she wouldn’t cry. That night her sobs had torn him in two.
Annie had lost her husband. The husband they both loved. He’d turn back the clock if he could. Matthew wished a thousand times over that he’d taken Jack’s comment about heartburn after dinner more seriously. If only he’d known. But then they’d eaten hot wings for dinner and nearly everyone on board had heartburn.
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d let Annie down by not keeping Jack safe. Keeping everyone safe on ship was part of his job. His responsibility. He couldn’t help but feel as if he’d failed when it came to Jack.
The teakettle whistle blew through the silence, shattering his thoughts.
Annie bustled forward and turned off the gas.
Matthew touched her arm again. Why’d he keep touching her? “I’ve got this. Sit down before you fall down.”
She looked at him with a raised chin. Annie didn’t like him telling her what to do. Her soft blue eyes had yellow rings around the pupils. Pretty eyes made even prettier framed with thick, dark lashes. She nodded, crumpled up the paper that came with the tea and sat down.
He felt her watchful eyes burning holes into his back as he stuffed the clippings in the silver ball and tossed it into the pot. No doubt she’d jump in if he did it wrong.
Next, he dumped in hot water and settled the lid in place and then set it on the table in front of her. He slid into the opposite chair and handed Annie a mug.
“You want any?”
“Ah, no.” He was a strong coffee kind of guy and he’d already had his fill this morning. Still, he watched her pour herself a cup of the rust-colored water.
She sniffed it, took a tentative sip and then a deep breath. Waited and then another sip.
“Does it help?”
Her eyes flew open wide. “Help what?”
“Your stomach. You just threw up, remember?”
Her cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. “Yeah.”
He smiled, at an odd loss for words. He’d never had to try hard to talk to her before. He grabbed the paper ball she’d crumpled and smoothed it back out. The name on the other side smacked hard.
Morning Sickness Tea.
He handed it back to her. “What does this mean?”
Annie looked up like a scared rabbit, ready to dart for cover. “Look, Matthew—”
“Are you going to have a baby?”
Her eyes filled with tears, and she shrugged.
“Don’t you know for sure?” His voice sounded much too shrill.
Annie looked fierce. “Yes, I’m sure.”
Matthew sat back, stunned. “Wow.”
“Yeah, wow. Please don’t tell anyone about the baby.”
His gaze narrowed. “Why?”
Her eyes clouded over. “Please?”
He knew how badly Jack had wanted kids. He’d put on a good front with his wife and often acted as if it didn’t matter. But Matthew knew how deep Jack’s disappointment ran. And now, the guy would never see his own kid.
He sighed. “I won’t say anything.”
“Thank you.”
“But I’ll help.”
Annie’s eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?
Matthew stood up and paced the kitchen. He’d blurted out that offer without thinking, but it felt right. “Starting with the roof—”
“Matthew, please. Don’t do this because you feel guilty over a silly kiss. We were both vulnerable that night.”
Irritation ripped through him. Hearing her words made him feel cheap. And there was nothing silly about that kiss. Cliché, maybe, but it had shaken his world pretty good. “Will you let me finish?”
She fluttered her fingers. “Fine, go ahead.”
“Are those shingles for the roof still in the garage?”
She looked confused. “I don’t know. I guess.”
“I’d like to take care of the roof while I’m off for the next few weeks.”
“No.” She shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I can call someone.”
Of course she was going to be difficult. “I want to do it.”
She stood, too, and went to the sink. “Just let it go.”
Matthew wanted to, but couldn’t just let it go. “Annie...”
She faced him. “I mean it. I’m not your responsibility. I can take care of myself.”
“I never said you couldn’t. I promised Jack I’d help him with the roof and I want to honor that promise.”
She stared him down.
He stared back.
This was about his promise to Jack. Not her. It couldn’t be about her. But deep inside, he knew it was all about her. He couldn’t help it. He cared. He’d always cared. And now, with a baby on the way, she’d need someone to lean on. That someone might as well be him.
“I need to do it. Don’t you get that?”
Her eyes softened. “I just—” She went pale again and pursed her lips. Her forehead broke out into a sweat.
He went to her. “Come on—you should probably lie down. We can talk about this later.”
“I’m fine.”
Obviously, she wasn’t. Stubborn woman. “I’ll carry you if I have to.”
She gave him one challenging look and then grabbed her mug and headed for the living room. She moved pretty fast for someone who needed morning sickness tea.
Round one with Annie.
He smiled as he followed her.
At least he’d won.
* * *
Annie sank onto the couch. She wasn’t about to lie down in front of Matthew, so she pulled her feet up under her and leaned against the arm. She took another sip of tea and waited for the nausea to pass. It always passed.
“Do you want me to get your pillow?” Matthew asked.
“No.” She wanted to wipe that caring look off his handsome face. And stop the jitters in her stomach when he looked at her like that.
His skin was already tanned from the sun. Lines cut across his forehead and around his eyes, but not from age. His skin looked weathered from being out on deck where the spring winds chafed. Rugged.
But he was still young, thirty-one, maybe thirty-two by now. He grabbed the afghan from the chair by the fireplace and draped it over her with strong hands that could be so gentle.
“Thanks.” Any minute now, she’d tell him to leave.
Why was he being so nice? But then, Matthew had always been nice. Jack had once told her how Matthew had nursed an injured seagull back to health. A seagull! Jack had called them rats with wings. She had a lot more than a broken wing. She didn’t want to take advantage of that kindness.
“Just take it easy.” He tucked the blanket’s edge behind her shoulder, coming much too close for comfort.
She glanced up and the sharp retort poised on her tongue died the moment she spied confusion wash across his face.
His eyes darted to her mouth.
She held her breath, powerless. The air hummed with this new awareness of each other. This awkward attraction snatched their words and they ended up staring. Remembering, maybe even reliving, that kiss they’d shared.
He abruptly stood and backed away. “I’m going to check the garage for those shingles and then go. Call me if you need anything, okay?”
“Okay.” She wasn’t going to call.
At the door he paused. “Annie?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m going to help with the baby. Jack would want me to.”
“Matthew—”
But he’d already closed the door.
Annie let loose a sigh. A nugget of hope blossomed and grew. Matthew was right. Jack would want him to help her out because it would help Matthew heal, too. He was the brother Jack never had and probably the only man Jack trusted implicitly.
But Annie didn’t want to depend on Matthew. He couldn’t fill the void that Jack left behind, and needing someone hurt all the more when they were gone.
Chapter Two
The next day, Annie was in the kitchen when she heard the quick knock on her front door. She gulped the rest of her tea and headed for the living room. She was grateful for Ginger’s choice. The calming blend eased her morning sickness, but she wished that Matthew hadn’t found out. She didn’t want anyone to know about the baby until it was safe. Not until she reached that halfway mark. Not until she’d received a good report from the ultrasound.
Another rat-a-tat, and then the door opened. “Annie?”
Matthew.
“Morning.” She smiled. She’d decided to support his repair-the-roof effort. It’d help him repay what he thought he owed Jack.
Matthew didn’t smile in return. He looked stormy despite the bright sunshine outside. “Don’t you keep your door locked?”
She blinked at his sharp tone. Who’d he think he was talking to her like that? This was Maple Springs, not her town house in Grand Rapids. “Sometimes. And if you must know, I was already up and out this morning.”
She’d gone to her doctor for her second appointment. She’d been labeled high-risk due to her age and history of fertility problems. Not welcome news.
Matthew stepped into the living room, followed by a younger version of him. “This is my brother Luke. We’re going to take a look at the roof.”
“Nice to meet you, Luke.” Annie stepped forward and offered the young man her hand. He was also tall, broad-shouldered and had light brown hair and bright blue eyes.
“You, too.” When he smiled, he resembled Matthew even more.
“Luke’s a roofer with our uncle over the summer months when he’s not in college. With his help, we’ll crank this out in no time.”
She didn’t like the idea of either one spending their downtime working on her house. “Let me know how much a job like this costs, so I can pay you the going rate.”
“Nope. It’s just the materials,” Matthew answered before his brother had a chance. “I’ll give you a list.”
She planted her hands on her hips. “Wait just a minute. You can’t expect your brother to work for free.”
Matthew grinned. “He’s not. We’ve got our own deal.”
Annie glanced at Luke.
“I’m going to move in with him. Matty and Cam are putting me up for the summer at no rent.” Luke winked at her. “Your roof’s not that big so this should be a snap.”
That was no deal. That sounded more like slave labor. Annie started to argue. “Now, look here—”
“Luke, there’s a ladder in the garage,” Matthew cut her off. He hadn’t looked away from her, either. “Why don’t you check out the existing shingles? I’ll be out in a minute.”
Heat infused her body as she stared him down. Any minute now steam was bound to blow from her nostrils. This was still her house! Since when had Matthew turned tyrant?
“Sure.” Luke looked between them and then left.
“You can’t just take over.” Annie’s voice came out shrill.
“I’m helping you.” His eyes blazed with something fierce and protective.
She snorted. “Are you? Are you really?”
“I’m trying to!” He stepped closer and sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. But Luke doing this is nothing you need be concerned about. He’s itching to get out of Mom and Dad’s, and Cam and I are gone most of the summer.”
She didn’t like it, but nodded. If Matthew’s little brother welcomed the arrangement, who was she to champion him? Matthew had refused payment from Jack, as well, when they’d talked about doing the roof. It’s what friends did for each other, right?
She remembered the conversation between the two men over pizza. They’d been going through pictures of their scuba-diving trip to the Manitou Islands on a rare week of scheduled time off together. They’d gone through the Manitou passage hundreds of times with the freighter but had wanted to dive the area. Scattered in those northern Lake Michigan waters lay dozens of past shipwrecks that Annie would rather not think about let alone see.
She swallowed a wave of upset. Her nausea came and went. She usually felt fine by afternoon into evening. The doctor had said that her morning sickness was a good sign, but she’d still require close monitoring throughout her pregnancy. She didn’t want to lose this baby after years of trying and failing.
“What is it?” He touched her elbow.
Annie came back to the present. “What?”
“You were far away just now. You okay?”
“Fine.”
He gave her a long look but didn’t push. “We’ll be up on the roof figuring out what we need. It won’t take long.”
“I’d like a copy of that list, you know, so I can pay for the materials.” Annie turned to go. “Oh, and Matthew?”
He leaned against the front door. His presence filled the room. He was only a few inches taller than Jack, yet today Matthew seemed so much larger than her late husband. “Yeah?”
This was harder to say than she’d expected. She didn’t like people doing her favors, but having someone she could trust take care of her roof was comforting all the same. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Do me a favor?”
“Yeah?”
“Keep your door locked.” He gave her a nod and left.
Annie stared at the door and wrestled with that request, knowing he’d made it with good intentions. Matthew was home for only a month before heading back out on the lakes for two or three. By the time he returned home again, she’d be huge. Would she make it that far?
“Please God...” Annie whispered, and then paused.
She hadn’t prayed much lately. In fact, she’d stopped talking to God after Jack’s death. Oh, she’d cried a lot, and even shouted her anger and confusion for losing her husband without notice.
Why’d God take Jack when he’d never been diagnosed with heart disease? As far as she knew, it didn’t even run in his family. How were they supposed to prevent something they had no knowledge of? How was that fair? Wasn’t God supposed to play fair?
But God was God. And God had taken Jack.
Annie’s eyes burned. She was finally going to have a baby. A sweet treasure Jack had wanted for so long. A gift she’d still never be able to give him.
What if God took her baby, too?
Resting her hands on the slightest swell of her middle, Annie didn’t want to think about how she’d abused her body for years to dance. Staying reed-thin for lead parts and lift partners. Punishment, her mother-in-law called it. She’d punished her body for years and that’s why she couldn’t conceive.
Annie’s whisper came out on a ragged breath. “Please Lord, keep this baby safe.”
* * *
The next morning, Matthew walked into the warm kitchen of his parents’ home. His mom stirred something on the stove that smelled like maple so he snuck close and peeked over her shoulder. “What’s for breakfast? Pancakes?”
“Matthew!” Helen Zelinsky clutched the base of her neck and laughed. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
He spied the saucepan of steaming oatmeal and grimaced. He’d grown up on the stuff and never once ate it since moving out. “Got any bacon?”
“Maybe. Now get out of my way. There’s fresh coffee in the pot.”
Matthew didn’t hesitate to fix a cup. Then he pulled out a chair and sat down. The kitchen table had been set with bowls, small glasses for juice, milk and a bottle of maple syrup made in the Zelinsky sugar shack. He knew the routine. A hot breakfast was a must according to his mom no matter what the season.
“Matthew.” His father nodded as he entered the kitchen. “What brings you here this early?”
A tall man who’d retired from a long career in the Army, Andy Zelinsky had started a maple syrup operation years ago. Matthew’s parents spent their golden summers into fall manning booths at craft fairs all over northern Michigan to sell their product. They didn’t do too badly, either.
“I’m picking up Luke. We’re going to work on Annie Marshall’s roof this week.” They’d purchased the supplies they needed and were ready to start. He bent down and petted the cat. Tigger butted his head against Matthew’s ankles, purring like mad.
His father poured juice in a glass. “Nice of you to help out there.”
His parents had gone to Jack’s funeral. They knew the situation. Jack had been to their house with him on many occasions to ice-fish since his folks had inland lake frontage. And Jack had bought Zelinsky syrup every Christmas for Annie.
Midsip of his coffee, he paused and set the cup back down. He’d have to make sure Annie got her half gallon this year. When would the baby be born? Surely, by Christmas.
He grabbed a bowl and spoon. “I was going to help Jack with it this summer, anyway.”
“How is Annie? Poor woman.” His mom set the pan of oatmeal on a pad and then retreated for a plate of bacon from the microwave.
Matthew grabbed a couple slices before she set it down.
His mom slapped his hand. “We need to pray first.”
He popped the bacon in his mouth and gasped. “Hot.”
His mother chuckled. “See, Bozia punish.”
Matthew shook his head. Those were his grandmother’s words. He’d heard them all his life, but this time they stopped him cold. Did God really punish? If so, what might be in store for him for breaking the tenth commandment?
“So answer my question.” His mom gave him a sharp look.
“What question?” He reached for another piece of bacon and set it on his napkin.
“How is Annie Marshall?”
He shrugged. “She’s holding her own.”
How’s a woman supposed to be when her husband recently died? Add a baby on the way and it was a wonder Annie still got out of bed, let alone yammer at him for bringing his brother to work on the roof.
The image of Annie with her hands on her hips flashed through his mind. She was even prettier riled up. Why’d he always notice how she looked?
“So sad.” His mother slipped into a chair and served up oatmeal into bowls.
“Yeah.”
“Hey.” His youngest brother entered the kitchen dressed in old jeans and a T-shirt. At twenty years old, Luke still lived at home when he wasn’t away at college.
“Now, we can bless the food.” His father bowed his head.
They all recited the simple prayer his family had used forever. “Bless us, O Lord! and these Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ our Lord. Amen.”
“Amen.” Matthew poured syrup over his oatmeal, crumpled bacon on top and dug in.
“Uncle John said we’ve got three weeks before his contractor’s account needs to be paid.” Luke stuffed bacon into his mouth.
Matthew nodded. “No problem.”
“You’re not paying for her roof—” His mom started.
“Leave him be, Helen.”
Matthew nodded toward his father. “She’s paying for the materials. Luke asked Uncle John if we could use his account for the discount.”
“Let’s hurry up and get over there.” Luke didn’t linger, nor did he believe in wasting time. But then, he winked. “I want to see you two argue again.”
“Argue?” His mom asked, horrified.
“You should have seen them stare each other down like a couple of alley cats.” Luke grinned.
“Matthew! Why were you arguing with her?”
He kicked his brother under the table, connecting with Luke’s boot instead of anything that might hurt.
His kid brother’s grin only got wider.
“Annie doesn’t accept my help very well,” Matthew finally replied.
His father’s eyebrows rose.
His mom exchanged a look with his dad before she said, “Honey, be careful. She’s still grieving and probably vulnerable.”
“Sure, Mom.”
Too late. He’d already kissed her. He wouldn’t admit that to his mother. Bad enough, he wanted to do it again. That tenth commandment came to mind. Was it considered coveting when the neighbor’s wife was now a widow?
Matthew polished off the rest of his oatmeal and another slice of bacon and then looked at Luke. “Ready?”
“I was born ready.”
Matthew chuckled. “Let’s go.”
It was a short drive to Annie’s. The Zelinsky farm lay only ten miles north of town on fifty acres wedged between a small inland lake and state land. By the time they arrived, the truck hauling a rented Dumpster had already backed far into Annie’s driveway. She’d left her car parked out front as he’d asked when he’d called her last night. She’d sounded tired, sad even, but told him she was fine. She was always fine. He’d heard that statement too many times to believe it.
After inspecting the roof yesterday, Luke had suggested they tear off the old shingles that were too worn for an overlay. Matthew had agreed even though it pulled his brother away from his summer job a couple more days. Good thing the kid worked for a relative who happened to own the largest roofing company in the area. They’d pulled a permit and rented a Dumpster lickety-split.
Matthew didn’t want to cut corners and he didn’t want leaks cropping up because he hadn’t been thorough. Like that night Jack had complained after eating those hot wings. Matthew should have offered his friend aspirin instead of antacids. That small move might have saved Jack’s life.