My hand shifted on her back, my hope emerging that this was it. That it’d been that simple.

And then she spoke two words that shattered my hope like exactly what it was—an illusion.

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered into my shirt, into the space just above my heart.

The world shrank to that room, to the trembling woman in my arms, to the screeching of my mind, the thundering of my heart.

“What?” I breathed.

“I’m pregnant.” The admission was miserable, broken and frayed. “I’m pregnant with your baby.”

My constricted heart blew open like shrapnel, shredding everything in its path.

“Tell me everything,” I said.

And silently, I listened as she decimated my world once more.

19

Fool

TESS

Laughter rang through the shop in the early morning light, the tired sound of relief and victory from the Bennet brood.

The whole family was in the shop eating donuts from Blanche’s, sipping coffee and trying to keep our eyes open. Luke smiled at me from across the room, filling my heart with fluttering whispers.

He’d come back to the shop quiet and withdrawn, heading straight into storage to start on the frames for the wheat fields. Down I went to check on him once, finding him sullen. A hug softened him, a kiss earned me a smile, small though it was. It’d been a long day, he noted, said he’d tell me about it after the editor. But when he said it, his eyes were touched with pain, regret. Fear.

I tried not to let that fear get on me—we had too much to do. And I trusted him. There was no reason not to. He’d tell me everything when this was behind us, and that was enough for me.

So I threw myself back into work.

It had taken us nearly all night to get it done, the lot of us breaking to shower and change.

Luke had brought boxes of donuts and a cardboard crate of coffee from Blanche’s like the savior he was. And we were just nibbling, waiting on the editor to arrive with her photographer.

Luke made his way over to where I sat on the register counter, smiling that smile of his. But his eyes were tired, exhausted beyond the lack of sleep. Whatever was troubling him had mellowed enough from last night that he was almost acting himself.

Almost.

From my perch, I was a little taller than him, and when he looked up at me, all I wanted to do was hold his jaw and kiss him. My hands and lips tingled with the desire to, but I stayed still other than the raising of my paper coffee cup.

“We did it.” I beamed.

He tapped his lid to mine. “It’s beautiful, Tess. Just when I think you can’t outdo yourself, you do.”

“Funny, I think that every day about you. We’re just full of surprises, aren’t we?”

His smile faltered, his blue eyes darkening. Something about the motion—the parting of his lips, the draw of his brows, the creases of his face—sent a shock through me. I braced myself for impact.