Page 26 of Between Our Hearts

Sadie’s mind raced, cataloguing all the places shehadhidden from him, hidden from her daughter, hidden from her life. She’d picked up today’s partial call shift to put herself in a place where she didn’t feel completely out of control all the time. Shame bloomed hot in her stomach as her head dropped.

Clark’s hand grabbing hers diverted her attention. “I like learning new things about you. That’s the point of all of this.”

The server greeted them, and after returning with a bottle of red wine, poured them each a glass. Sadie took a large sip, letting the bold flavors coat her tongue before swallowing, hoping the alcohol would soon soften the ache in her spine.

“What are you going to get?” Clark asked when they were alone again.

“Steak,” she answered, having not even read the menu.

Clark’s laugh sent warmth zipping to the tips of her toes clenched in her ballet flats. He shook his head, grin widening and eyes reading the print on the elegant paper between his fingers. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

After ordering and receiving their salad course, Clark asked about her day, and she felt her muscles loosening as she began detailing one of the more challenging cases she’d had that day. She’d needed extra hands tableside to hold the retractors to keep the muscle and fat out of the way so she could work.

Clark had his fork in his hand but hadn’t taken a bite in several minutes.

Though that entertained gleam was in his eye, she had to ask, “Am I making you lose your appetite?”

He speared a layered section of grilled romaine. “Love, you’ve been telling me stories like this for years. If I had an issue with it, I’d have learned how to stomach it by this point.” He brought the bite halfway to his mouth and then paused. “I actually like listening to you when you talk about work. You”—he shifted his shoulders as he searched for the word—“you kind of glow.”

Her eyes darted to her own untouched spinach salad, gathering herself before glancing back up. Clark chewed with a satisfied look on his face. Her gaze snagged on Clark’s tie—a shiny black one that matched the black collared shirt he had over grey slacks. The darkness of his attire, nearly matching his hair, only made the clear blue of his eyes more striking.

Before she could be distracted further by his raw attractiveness, she asked, “How was Lottie today?” Her brain racked to remember what day it was—Sunday. “You guys went to the market this morning?”

“She was good.” He took a sip of his water. “And yeah, we were at the market this morning, but not just to walk around. I’ve been meaning to tell you about something new I’ve been doing.”

“The project you’ve been working on?” She hadn’t meant for the question to sound sad, but the emotion infiltrated her words.

He swallowed. “Yeah. Since the house is finished, I started some small woodworking projects. I’ve actually”—he rubbed his neck—“befriended a blacksmith.” A chuckle escaped his lips. “I know that’s a crazy sentence, but he sells his work at the farmer’s market, and for the last four weeks, I’ve been selling the pieces I’ve made as well.”

Her head tilted as her brows pinched. He’d been doing what? For a month? That guilty prickling sensation rose at the knowledge that she was not only missing her daughter’s life but her husband’s as she whittled away hours in surgery or hiding from her family.

Pushing down her discomfort, she asked, “What kind of pieces?”

“I can—” He dug his phone out of his front pocket and clicked through a few screens before handing it over to her. “I’ll just show you.”

On his camera roll was a picture of an incredibly intricate mosaic wood design laid within a slim rectangular frame for wall hanging. Her fingertips went to run over the wood and the image flipped to one of their daughter coloring on a wooden table set over asphalt.

“This one looks like the one in the playhouse.” She lifted her gaze from her daughter’s crayon-gripped fist.

“I was just playing around with the dimensions on the first one so I could build her one that would fit under the canopy tent.”

She thumbed backward to see the decorative wood piece again. “Is this at home? Can I see it in person?” Something about the design made her fingers itch to trace each sharp angle. Her hand hovered over the screen before she gave into the impulse to touch and zoomed in on the image.

“I’ve got one like that and some other designs, though I’ve sold that exact piece.” The smile on her husband’s face could have fed her for a year. “Each one is a little different because of the grains of the wood and stain.”

Her eyes caught and held his. “I want to see them all.”

“Yeah?” His question was more of a breath.

Every time he’d completed a project in their home over the last few years, she’d always marveled at his work. It rivaled those seen on various home design shows. He’d always completed each carpentry project—and various other plumbing, electrical, and tiling ones—with such confidence and assuredness, it was odd that he was almost shy about this.

“Every single thing you work on is incredible. You’ve completely personalized our house, transforming it into something I couldn’t have ever imagined. And with this . . .” Her eyes fell to the screen. “The way you visualize and then create these things with your hands . . . it’s—” She exhaled. “It’s beautiful.”

He held very still before blinking twice. “Thank you.”

Her lips lifted before her gaze gravitated to the glowing phone screen and an unexpected sourness tinged the back of her throat. Clark staying at home with Lottie meant that he wasn’t completing large-scale projects for other people anymore. Something she knew he loved.

“Is this enough for you?” Her voice was low. “We can always put Lottie in day care if you’d rather go back to work full-time.” She pushed the phone back over the table.

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