“Hey, Emily,” he said.
She turned around, a saltine in her hand. “Cole.”
There was no emotion in that syllable, nothing that he could read and pinpoint as a clue to how she felt about him. He cleared his throat, took a step closer.
“I was thinking of taking a break for lunch,” he said. “Would you like to go into town with me? I need to get some supplies, too.”
“Sorry, no. I’m, uh, working on something.”
“Working on something? What?”
“Something personal,” she said, and turned toward the cabinet to get a glass.
The door had shut between them, and she had no intentions of opening it—that much was clear. Cole should cut his losses, go back to New York and bury himself in work. Accept the divorce and move on, like she had.
Then why did he stay in the kitchen like a lovelorn teenager? He grabbed a glass of water that he didn’t want, hoping Emily would talk to him. Instead, she gathered her crackers and her drink and headed for the hall. “Em?”
She turned back. “Yeah?”
“Is there any chance?”
The question hung in the sunny kitchen for a long moment. Emily’s green eyes met his, and for a second, hope leaped in his chest. She shook her head and lowered her gaze. “No, Cole, there isn’t.”
Then she brushed by him and out of the room, leaving Cole more alone than he could ever remember feeling.
TWO FRIENDLY, HAPPY emails greeted Emily when she got back to her room. Andrea and Casey, both thrilled to hear from her and chock-full of their own news. Casey, the more dramatic of the three, was full of boisterous stories about her life, while Andrea talked about working at her family shop during tough economic times. They were both surprised to hear the inn was up for sale, and both said they’d try to make it out there before the holidays. “I’d love to give the place one more goodbye,” Casey wrote, “and give you a great big hug, too. It’ll be great to see you all and maybe raise a toast to Melissa. We’ll stand out on the dock and give her a proper goodbye.”
Emily wrote back, telling them that sounded like a fabulous idea, and encouraging her friends to arrive as soon as possible. Her hands hovered over the keyboard while she debated how much to tell them. “Things are going great with me,” she said finally, lying through her fingers. “Can’t wait to see you!” She left it on a bright, cheery note, even adding a smiley face. Then she hit Send, and tried to work on her book again.
The words wouldn’t come. After eating the saltines, her nausea had passed, and her stomach rumbled, reminding her it was lunchtime. A lunch she could have enjoyed with Cole, if she’d taken him up on his offer.
Doing so would only tempt her all over again, and the last thing she needed was to be tempted by Cole. She placed a hand on her belly and splayed her fingers against the tiny life deep inside her. “We’ll be okay, Sweet Pea. I promise.”
Carol poked her head into Emily’s room. “I made a salad for lunch. Want some?” Carol noted Emily’s hesitation, and added, “Cole left. Said he had to go to town.”
“Lunch sounds good. I was just starting to get hungry.” Emily shut the laptop’s lid, then followed Carol to the kitchen. Harper lay on the small rug in front of the back door, snarfling and twitching, probably chasing a rabbit in her doggy dreams.
Carol laid two heaping plates of spinach, strawberry and feta salad on the table. Sprinkles of roasted pecans and a raspberry vinaigrette finished off the tasty lunch. “So,” Carol said when she sat across from Emily, “when are you due?”
“When...what?” Heat rushed to Emily’s cheeks. “What are you talking about?”
“Honey, I may not be able to know how to save this place, but I know when a woman is expecting. The tea, the nausea, the saltines. Plus you just have that look about you.”
“What look?”
“That excited-slash-terrified look.” Carol grinned. “My sister had three kids, and she looked like that every time.”
Emily picked at the salad. “May 17.”
Carol’s face exploded in a smile, and she jerked out of the chair to gather Emily in a tight, warm hug. “I’m so happy for you, honey.”
“Thank you,” Emily said, and for the first time, the joy of what was coming began to infuse her. Sharing the news made it real, somehow, and that allowed her to imagine the future with the child she had always wanted.
A child Cole hadn’t wanted.
But that didn’t matter. She and Cole were over, even if he had yet to fully get the message. She was going to have this baby alone and be just fine. She’d wanted a baby almost from the day they got married. Cole had kept telling her they should wait. For what, she wasn’t even sure now. All she knew was that he found one excuse after another not to have a child.
Finally, Emily was building the family she’d dreamed of. Granted, a family without a father, but Emily had no doubt she’d more than make up for Cole’s absence.
“Cole must be over the moon about the baby,” Carol said.
Emily shook her head. “He doesn’t know. And I’m not telling him,” she added before Carol said anything. “We’ve been separated for some time now, and after I get back to New York, I think...no, I know, I’m going to file for divorce.”
“What? But then...why is he here?”
“Because Cole is the kind of man who never loses. Even when the battle isn’t his to win.” She shrugged, and cursed the tears that rushed to her eyes. “Our marriage has been over for a long time, but he won’t accept that.”
Carol’s hand covered Emily’s. “I don’t know about over, if you have that little gift growing inside you right now.”
“That night was a mistake.” Emily shook her head. “One I won’t repeat. My marriage is over, Carol. I’m just looking ahead to the future with just me and the baby.”
The doorbell sounded a happy little trill. “We can talk later,” Carol said. “Let me get the door. You stay, finish your salad. And don’t worry, I won’t say anything to Cole.”
Emily smiled up at her old friend. “Thank you.”
A minute later, Carol was back with a tall, trim, white-haired man beside her. “I’m not quite sure what all we need done around here,” she said as she walked into the room. “My home repair skills are pretty limited.”
“Seems to me like you need a little of everything.” The man’s gaze swept the kitchen, taking in the water stains on the ceiling, the dripping faucet, the worn countertops. “The house has good bones, though, and that’s what matters. You’ve got a great place here, miss.”
A shy smile curved across Carol’s face. “Oh, I’m far from a miss these days.”
The man gave her a grin that crinkled the corners of his pale blue eyes. “I disagree.”
Carol let out a little laugh. “Well, thank you, Martin.”
They were flirting, Emily realized. Something she had never seen Carol do before. Carol tore her gaze away from the man and waved toward Emily. “This is Emily, an old friend and one of the regular visitors to the Gingerbread Inn,” she said. “Emily, this is Martin Johnson. Cole hired him to do some work around here.”
Emily stood, shook Martin’s hand. Harper sat in the corner of the kitchen, her tail wagging, while she watched the exchange between the humans