out the thousand and one voices telling her that until she knew all the facts, she shouldn’t be making judgments. It was a lesson her grandfather had instilled in all of them.
“Wait until you know the facts,” he would say when one or another of them claimed some slight.
Sharon Lynn reminded herself of that now. All that really mattered, she told herself, all that could matter was that the baby remained safe, that she had a good life. If her family could give her that, then so be it.
It hurt, though. It hurt to think she might never see Ashley again, might never hold her or comfort her or watch her grow. She’d never imagined how difficult it would be.
“Are you okay?”
Cord’s quiet question startled her. She’d thought she was alone behind the counter at Dolan’s. The morning rush was over and it was another hour before the lunch crowd would begin straggling in. The last person she’d expected to see in the middle of a busy ranch workday was Cord, especially when he was so committed to making a good impression on his new job. One glance at his haggard expression told her that he’d slept no better than she had the night before, even if he had been back in his own bed out at White Pines, rather than on her sofa.
“What brings you into town? Shouldn’t you be working?”
“My mind wasn’t on my work,” he admitted. “Your father finally took pity on me and sent me on some errands before I could make a costly mistake. I’m pretty sure he intended that I wind up here. He said your mother didn’t like the way you sounded on the phone this morning.”
Sharon Lynn smiled ruefully. “Which explains why she was here an hour ago, claiming she had to pick up a few little things, even though she left without buying anything more than a cup of coffee.”
“I guess everyone heard the news yesterday, then. Once Justin said it, everything else going on out there pretty much faded into the background for me.”
“Believe me, that little tidbit spread like wildfire,” Sharon Lynn acknowledged. “Though everyone was very careful not to mention it around me.”
“I know they’re worried about how you’ll take losing Ashley if you have to give her up, but I got the distinct impression there was more to it than that,” Cord said, regarding her cautiously. “Is there something else they’re worried about?”
Sharon Lynn sighed. She knew he was fishing for an explanation for all the hints and innuendo people had no doubt been dropping ever since his arrival. Maybe it was time she simply told him why everyone tended to walk on eggshells around her. Why they stared at her sometimes as if she might crack like a delicate bit of old porcelain.
“I suppose there’s no reason for you not to know,” she said eventually. “Everyone else does.”
She hesitated, wondering if she could get the words out. For a long time now, she’d thought if she didn’t talk about the accident, never mentioned Kyle at all, the pain would go away. Of course, it hadn’t.
While she debated what to say, Cord remained silent, watching her patiently. She found that reassuring.
“I was engaged for a very long time.” She began slowly, then went on in a rush. “Last summer we finally got married.”
His eyes widened with unmistakable shock and, perhaps, something more, something that could even be regret. But his voice was steady, “You’re married? But where...?”
“I’m getting to that,” she said, her gaze pleading with him for patience. She drew in a deep breath before going on. “That night, leaving the reception, we were hit by a drunk driver. My husband was killed.”
She managed to get the words out in a matter-of-fact way, despite the raw emotions that were churning inside her. She avoided looking directly at Cord, fearful of what she might read on his face. She wasn’t sure whether to expect disgust or dismay or pity. She wasn’t prepared to deal with any of them.
“The damned fool!”
His sharp, angry words startled her into looking up. He reached for her hand and enveloped it in his. There was genuine warmth and comfort in his touch, but it was his obvious outrage on her behalf that meant the most.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” His gaze narrowed as a thought apparently occurred to him. “You’re not blaming yourself, are you?”
“I was driving.”
“What the hell difference does that make? The other driver was