“Mmm.” She glanced at Lucky. “Which is the Phillips screwdriver?”
Lucky barked and sniffed the tools. “Don’t know either, do you?”
Lucky barked louder and Lefty got in on the act.
“Quiet,” she ordered. “I have to think.”
It couldn’t be all that hard. Studying the screws, she picked a screwdriver to match the grooves. She shouted for joy and the dogs barked again.
“Shh.” It took a lot of strength and patience, but she worked on until she had the bassinet attached to the base.
Sinking back on her heels, she looked at her handiwork. It was beautiful—all white and delicate. Through her defenses slipped another memory of a precious bassinet trimmed with satin and lace.
No. No. No.
She leaped to her feet, shoved the memory away and collapsed onto the sofa. Gathering her dogs into her arms, she felt as if her world had just collapsed. The monster under the bed now controlled her and she was the only one who could turn on the light and reveal the secret she’d kept hidden in her heart.
Beau wanted her to ask him to stay. She saw it in his eyes—that’s how well she knew him, and she’d wanted to. But she didn’t have anything to offer him, except friendship.
Sometimes late at night when she wished his arms were around her, she’d wondered how long she’d have him. How long would they be friends before he’d want more? He was a man, after all. She’d seen him go out on dates and though it broke her heart she never did anything to stop it. Just like she’d do nothing to stop him leaving.
A tear trickled out of the corner of her eye, then another followed. She tasted the saltiness on her lips and the dogs whined at her distress. Freckles slinked along the back of the sofa and rested on her shoulder. She stroked them so they’d know she was okay.
But she wasn’t.
Beau had said that she had more energy than anyone he knew. She had to keep going, doing until she exhausted herself. That way her mind was too tired to dream dreams she shouldn’t—like having a husband and a family. She’d had the fairy tale. Now she lived with the nightmare.
She would never marry again, but she would always love Beau. How she wished she could tell him that and share her secret. Allen was the only one who knew. Not even her parents had known what had happened in her marriage. It was her own personal pain.
Beau was leaving.
More tears followed and she didn’t bother to brush them away. She needed to cry, to cleanse away the heartache and to find the strength to say goodbye to Beau.
That night as she lay in bed her arms ached to hold him, to see the warmth in his eyes, feel his body against hers and to fulfill a need in her that she’d been denying for a long time. She wanted Beau in all the ways a woman wanted a man she loved.
Tell him.
The silence mingled with the darkness and the fear in her was very real, holding her back. Turning the light on wouldn’t help. She’d still be the same person, a person no one could love.
Living without Beau was better than living with his rejection, which inevitably would come. Tomorrow she’d be better. Tomorrow she’d be busy with Delia and the baby. Tomorrow she would find the strength to face a future without Beau.
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