on a doctor’s couch and babble about the losses in his past. He had no desire to tear down the walls that he’d spent a lifetime constructing. Been there, done that, and look where it had gotten him—on his knees in the snow on a mountain a twitch away from eating his gun. He’d let Jennifer breach the walls around his heart. He couldn’t, wouldn’t go there again with Nic.
I’ll do my best, Nic. It won’t be good enough, but it’ll be the best I can do. For you and for the baby. Babies.
He shuddered. Twins.
I’ll be there to help. I’ll be there to support you. I’ll be your friend. Then, if the right guy comes along someday, a man who can love you like you deserve, I’ll shake his hand and step aside.
Maybe in doing so, he could redeem himself at least a little.
Nic let out a little sleepy sniffle and shifted in her seat. Her foot kicked her purse and some of its contents spilled out onto the floorboard. Gabe locked his gaze on the road before him as his sense of self-preservation demanded he ignore the sonogram photograph lying right there in plain sight.
Nic didn’t stir until he slowed to pull into her driveway, and when she opened her eyes and started to move, a groan escaped her lips. “Ow.” She grimaced. “I forgot.”
“You’re due some aspirin.”
“Acetaminophen,” she corrected. “I’ll take a couple as soon as I get inside.”
As Gabe exited the car, Sarah Reese opened the door to Nic’s house and the boxer streaked outside. He barked twice in welcome, ran three tight circles around Gabe’s legs, his crooked tail wagging like a sorcerer’s wand, then bounded over to the passenger-side door, ready to pounce on Nic. Gabe called out to Sarah, “You want to grab his collar? The last thing we need is another fall.”
As Sarah hurried forward to corral the dog, Nic swung her car door open, then visibly braced herself to swing her knees around. Gabe said, “Hold what you have, Nicole. Let me help.”
“My crutches …”
“How about I carry you into the house? Then you can tackle the crutches.”
“My hero,” she said past gritted teeth as he slipped one arm around her waist, the other beneath her thighs, and lifted her up into his arms.
Sarah held the dog and fretted aloud. “Thank God you are okay. Oh, Nic, I feel like this is my fault. If I hadn’t forgotten I said I’d meet you at the library, you wouldn’t have gone looking for me.”
“Don’t be silly, Sarah.” Nic smiled wanly at her friend. “I have no one but myself to blame for my clumsiness.”
“I feel terrible. Lori does, too, because the reason I forgot about the library is because she and I were arguing. We made you a cake.”
“Butter pecan?”
“Yes.”
“In that case, it was your fault, but being the wonderful friend that I am, I forgive you. Can I have a piece of cake now?”
Sarah scratched the boxer behind the ears. “Not until after your supper.”
“You are such a mom.”
“Yeah, well, you are too, aren’t you? That’s why you can’t have cake before supper. Nutrition, nutrition, nutrition.”
With the women’s lighthearted bickering ringing in his ears, Gabe carried his wife into the house, where the aroma of chili spices teased his nostrils and reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He settled Nic into the overstuffed chair in the parlor that he’d figured out was her favorite, then returned to the car for her crutches … and his suitcase.
When he carried them inside, Nic’s smile of thanks faded upon spying the case. Her brow furrowed with confusion. “Gabe?”
He set the crutches beside her and the suitcase at the foot of the stairs. Looking at Sarah, he said, “Do I smell that supper you mentioned?”
“Chili. Cornbread is in the oven. Should be ready in twenty minutes.”
“Excellent. That should give me just enough time to grab a shower and stow my things.”
“Gabe?” Nic repeated. “Are you staying here tonight?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets. “You can’t manage by yourself. Not while you’re on crutches. I’ll stay as long as you need help.”
A flurry of emotions flashed across Nic’s face, and Gabe feared he read them too easily. Relief was okay. Gratitude wasn’t a problem. It was the hope that sent unease crawling up his spine.
“Thanks, Gabe,” Nic said softly.
He searched for words to warn her against making too much of this, but came up empty, so he simply nodded, then headed for the