“Where?” she asked gently.
“She had a favorite spot on Bear Ridge, about a mile south of town. We hiked there, had picnics, just sat and talked. That’s where she told me she was pregnant.” Shoving his hands into his pockets, he went on, “I couldn’t just bury the ashes. I wanted her to be in a place she loved. Do you know what I mean?”
Shaye’s chest was so tight she could hardly breathe. “I know exactly what you mean.” Reaching out, she touched his arm this time. “I know doing that had to be hard for you.”
When he looked away, she saw his throat work and she wished they were alone somewhere, alone where they could really talk.
Dr. Carrera entered the NICU and saw them. Chart in hand, he checked the monitors and the readouts around Timmy. “I have good news. I’m going to take Timmy off the ventilator, but I want the two of you out of here. I’ll send someone to the waiting room to let you know when you can come back in.”
If Timmy could breathe on his own, Shaye just knew everything would be all right.
“Go on, now,” the doctor said with a smile. “Go get some breakfast or lunch.”
“Coffee would be good,” Dylan agreed, his gaze on his nephew, worry etching his brows. Then he turned and headed into the hall.
“If we go to the cafeteria for coffee rather than getting it from the vending machine,” he said over his shoulder, his voice rough, “it might taste like more than colored water.”
Shaye followed him, feeling his turmoil and his hope.
As they passed the nurses’ desk, one of the nurses looked up. “Mr. Malloy, we had a message for you.” She handed him a slip of paper. “He said he couldn’t reach you on your cell phone.”
After scanning it, he told Shaye, “Since I can’t use my cell phone in the hospital, I have to find a pay phone and make a call. Go ahead to the cafeteria. I’ll meet you there.”
In a way, Shaye was relieved to be going to the cafeteria on her own. She felt such a tugging toward Dylan that she needed a reserve of energy to resist it. Over the past few days she couldn’t help imagining what a kiss of his would be like and she couldn’t keep from picturing what might have happened if he hadn’t pulled away.
Nothing would have happened, she told herself now.
She’d never indulged in quick affairs. She hadn’t slept with a man since Chad had broken up with her her…since she’d learned his grant in India was more important than she was…that his career didn’t include dragging a wife everywhere he went. He’d pulled the proverbial wool over her eyes and she’d felt like a fool. Sure, she’d tried dating. No man had lit an inner fire. No man had tempted her to give up her life as she knew it. At twenty-nine, she realized she was as set in her ways as any woman her age.
When she entered the cafeteria, she headed toward the beverage area. A few minutes later she was sitting at a table, staring into a cup of coffee when a cheery voice said, “Only one cup if you don’t put any food in your stomach.”
The sound of Gwen Langworthy’s voice always made Shaye smile. Looking up into her friend’s beautiful dark brown eyes, she asked, “What are you doing here on a Saturday?”
“One of my patients delivered her baby this morning. I stopped in the NICU to see if you were there but the nurse told me you’d come down here. Are you okay?”
“Timmy’s coming off the ventilator. I’m fine.”
Gwen was a nurse practitioner, specializing in obstetrics. “Off the vent! That’s great. You’ll be taking him home soon.”
Both Gwen and Kylie had called Shaye often over the past week, offering their support and their presence if she wanted it. Usually Shaye loved spending time with her friends but between her visits to Timmy and the turmoil Dylan caused, she had just wanted to try to sort it all out on her own.
“I hope so,” she breathed fervently.
Pushing her mop of curly dark auburn hair away from her face, Gwen asked, “You don’t think Julia’s brother’s going to contest custody, do you?”
“I don’t think so, but he—” She stopped because at that moment Dylan walked into the cafeteria.
When he saw the two of them, he gave a slight wave to Shaye and went to buy coffee of his own.
As he was paying for it, Shaye said, “That’s Dylan Malloy.”
Gwen’s eyebrows arched and she looked at Shaye curiously. “Is he the reason you haven’t wanted us around this past week?”
“I always want you around,” she protested. “I just had things to sort out.”
Gwen put up her hand to stop her excuse. “I was kidding.” She took another look at Dylan. “But now I’m wondering if he doesn’t have something to do with those things you were sorting out.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! You know what he does for a living.”
“Yes, but I can also see he has enough sex appeal to stoke the fantasies of every woman in Wild Horse Junction.”
As Dylan came toward them, Shaye knew Gwen was right. There was something very sensual about Dylan in the way he moved, in the way he talked and in the way he looked at her.
While he approached them, Shaye felt all her senses come alive in a way they didn’t when he wasn’t around. “Dylan, this is Gwen Langworthy. We’ve been friends since we were kids.”
“It’s good to meet you,” Dylan acknowledged, extending his hand to Gwen.
She shook it quickly. “It’s good to meet you, too. I’m sorry about Julia.”
“Thank you. If I’m interrupting…” he started.
“Oh, no,” Gwen assured him. “I have to be going. I just wanted to check in on Shaye.” Leaning down, Gwen gave her a hug. “Take care of yourself,” she murmured. “If you need to talk, call.”
“I will.”
Then, with another smile for them both, Gwen left the cafeteria and Dylan sat in the chair across from Shaye.
Watching him, Shaye noticed Dylan didn’t give her friend a second look, which was unusual. Gwen was beautiful with her curly hair, her deep brown eyes, her figure rounded in all the right places. Shaye and Kylie had always admired their friend’s attributes. But Gwen played them down. Ever since her fiancé had left her at the altar, Gwen had withdrawn from the dating scene.
“Phone call all taken care of?” she asked.
“Derek, a journalist who was with me on the shoot in Tasmania, left that message at the nurses’ desk. My publishing house is moving up the timetable on the book we’re working on.”
“What were you photographing in Tasmania?”
A smile the likes of which she hadn’t seen before brightened Dylan’s face. “Gray kangaroos.”
“What kind of book are you working on?”
“A coffee-table book of wildlife around the globe—reindeer in Scotland, hippos in Botswana and orangutans in Borneo. We even did some underwater photography for the book.”
“You like to take risks,” she said, not approving.
“I don’t take unnecessary risks. I do like to get as close as I can get to my subjects. It’s one of the signature elements in my photos. It’s how I keep working.”
“Which do you like most—the danger or the travel?” Her question wasn’t meant to be a challenge. She was really interested.
“I don’t know if I can separate them. As I said, it’s not the danger than I crave, it’s my interest in my subject that