A curious disappointment washes over me at the thought that this will all be over so quickly—this beautiful man with his sexy voice and his gentle touch—the stolen moments with someone who cares, albeit only about my teeth.
There was no time for caring after Sam’s father died. No time for anything but work. Less than a year after we lost Ethan to an undiagnosed heart condition, we lost Sam’s dad to a heart attack. Hearts are fragile things, it seems. Susceptible to the ravages of genetics and hard living. Vulnerable to hurt. Easy to break.
An only child, Sam inherited the farm with the blessing of his mother. A lawyer at a big city firm in Columbus, Ohio, she wasn’t cut out for farming life. Only three months after Sam’s family moved to Revival so his dad could become a farmer, his mom had packed up and walked out the door. She had no qualms about leaving her sixteen-year-old son and her husband on their own, and no interest even in staying in touch. I could have forgiven her for missing her city life—farming wasn’t easy, and more than once I’d thought about leaving too—but I couldn’t forgive her for abandoning my Sam, nor could I forgive her for being too busy to visit her grandson before he died.
Dr. Steadman studies me intently, his head tipped to the side. “You look worried.”
“I’m not.”
He puts a gentle finger under my chin and tips my head back until I’m looking into those deep blue eyes. A curiously intimate gesture given we barely know each other. “I promise it won’t hurt, Natalie. I’ll take good care of you.”
My blood rushes to my face, and for a moment I feel unravelled and strange, like he’s seen the secret part of me that is tired of being strong and capable and self-sufficient every minute of every day. That deep down, sometimes I just want to held and cared for, nurtured and protected the way I longed to be as a child, the way Sam used to make me feel.
It isn’t that I’m sexually attracted to Dr. Steadman in anything other than a movie-star fantasy kind of way—he is too handsome, too nice, too perfect, and if the rumors Alexis has heard about him are true, his dark secrets are a little too dark for me. I like my men rough and rugged, but in the bedroom, I’m not into shades of grey. But today, when my heart is raw and sore, and I feel so alone, his kindness unlocks feelings I thought were long gone.
“I trust you, Dr. Steadman.”
His eyes widen the tiniest bit, and he sucks in a sharp breath. But if I even imagine I see a flush in his cheeks, it is gone as soon as soon as I blink my eyes. And then I am upside down again, and that is the end of my curious moment with Dr. Steadman.
* * *
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Steadman joins me at the reception desk after I’ve paid my bill, all good looks and smiles, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Gina is staring at him like he is her next meal.
“Good, thanks,” I mumble through my partially frozen mouth. I don’t even try to crack a smile in case I inadvertently drool.
“You won’t need another appointment unless that filling gives you problem, or if you feel any sharp edges when the freezing wears off.” He picks up the clipboard containing my registration forms and flips through the pages. “Any kids we should add to your file? We should get everyone in the family started on a regular cleaning schedule.”
My heart seizes, and for a moment I can’t breathe.
“Natalie? You okay?”
“Yes.” I force the word out. “And no. No children. Just Sam and me.”
Dr. Steadman puts a warm hand on my shoulder, his forehead wrinkled in consternation. “Are you sure you’re okay? Sometimes people react to the novocaine—allergic reactions, that sort of thing—or they become lightheaded from the chair. Maybe you should stay in reception for a few minutes just to be sure, especially if you’re planning to drive. Mariko and Gina are done for the day, but I still have some paperwork to do. It’s no trouble—”
He is so easy to talk to, so concerned. He has the gentleness of his grandfather, and yet he can’t be more than five years older than me. “I’m fine. Really.”
“I don’t think—”
“She said she’s fine.” Gina grabs her purse and shares a look with Mariko who has just joined us in reception. “Mariko and I can walk her out, just to be sure.” She frowns at me as she holds open the door like she’s concerned about leaving me alone with Dr. Steadman. Or is it the other way around?
“I lost a child.” My words come out in a rush. I don’t know if it is the gambler in me—the girl who left home with only a few dollars in her pocket and her wannabe rock-star boyfriend to pursue her dream—desperation, or the sheer and utter loneliness of loving someone who doesn’t love me back, but I tell him about Ethan. “Today would have been his tenth birthday, so it’s just a hard question to answer.”
My heart pounds. I didn’t do anything wrong, and yet I felt as if I did, as if I just betrayed Sam because I shared my pain with a handsome stranger simply because he is kind.
“Natalie . . .” His voice is deep with sympathy. “I shouldn’t have assumed.” He gestures to Gina and Mariko. “Ladies, I won’t keep you. Enjoy your weekend. I’ll look after Natalie.”
Mariko’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “See you on Monday.”
“Bye, Natalie,” Gina says softly. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“I’m sorry,” I say after the door closes behind them. “That was awkward. I should get going.”
“I lost a child too,” Dr. Steadman says gently. “I know how hard it is when people ask that kind of question, and how difficult birthdays can be. Would you like to talk? I was planning to head over to Sticky’s after work for a drink. Why don’t you join me, and you can tell me all about him?”
A dam breaks inside me. No one ever says, “Tell me all about him.” No one wants to know Ethan. They say, “I’m sorry for your loss”, or “Oh, you poor thing,” or “It must have been terrible”, or worse they say, “Are you trying to have another one?” like Ethan can be replaced. People don’t want to hear about a child who died. They are afraid of feeling sad, of being inadequate, or of not knowing what to say . . .
“T-t-tell you about him?” Between the partially-numb mouth and the shock, I am barely coherent.
“Of course.” He brushes my hair back over my shoulder, his touch as light as the whisper of wind on a warm, summer day. “I want to hear all about your little boy. He should be remembered on his birthday.”
Yes, he should. But by his father, not by a stranger with a big heart and a gentle touch.
I check my watch. I managed to pick up Sam’s part and the checks from the bank before my appointment, but Sam will be expecting his dinner soon. He’ll sit in his usual chair, complain about his hired men, and then we’ll talk about the weather and farm prices, new government regulations, and equipment. We won’t talk about Ethan. He won’t mention my appointment, or ask if I’m feeling better. He won’t notice my hair or the new dress I bought to remember Ethan’s birthday. When he’s done with his meal, he’ll head out the door to put in a few more hours of work before dark, and then he’ll collapse into bed so he can do it all over again tomorrow.
I never miss dinner. Revival’s shops close every day at five o’clock, and even if I am late running errands, there is always more than enough time to drive home and get something on the table by six. Occasionally Alexis drags me out to the bar with our old school friends, or to see a movie at the new cinema in town, but I never leave until Sam has his meal, or at the very least a plate of food ready to be heated up with a note or text letting him know where I am. What will Sam do if I don’t show up for dinner? Will he even notice I am gone?
“Yes. I’d like that.” I smile. “I’d like that a lot.”