Page 47 of What Matters Most

“Very.” He said it with an odd little smile. “You’ll be beautiful pregnant.”

Carla could feel herself blushing. “Honestly, Philip,” she murmured, her eyes looking troubled. “I wish you wouldn’t say things like that.”

“Why not? Last night after we finished talking, I was so happy that I lay in bed thinking I could run ten miles and not even feel it. But I didn’t run. Instead, I lay there and closed my eyes, picturing what our lives would be like five years from now.”

“And?” She was angry with herself for going along with this fantasy, but she couldn’t help herself.

“You were in the kitchen cooking dinner when I walked in the back door. A little redheaded boy was playing at your feet, banging pots and pans with a wooden spoon. When you turned to me, I saw that you were pregnant. I swear, Carla, you were so beautiful I went weak. My heart stopped beating and my knees felt like putty. I don’t think anything’s ever affected me like that. I’ve never made any pretense about wanting you, and I’m not going to start now.”

Carla busied herself by running her finger along the rim of her mug, and when she lifted her gaze, their eyes met. “That’s beautiful,” she said, and was shocked at how low her voice was. The closeness she felt with him at that moment was beyond anything she had ever known. But she wished he wouldn’t say such things to her. It only made her more miserable.

Silence fell between them, but Philip seemed content to watch her. Her hands trembled as she lifted the mug for another long drink. “Philip,” she said and moaned, finding his continued scrutiny uncomfortable, “please stop looking at me like that. You’re embarrassing me.”

Immediately he dropped his gaze. “I didn’t mean to. It seems I do everything wrong where you’re concerned. I thought I’d play it cool today when you arrived. And the minute I saw you every nonchalant greeting I’d practiced died on my lips.”

“Mine, too,” she confessed shakily.

“I’m still having trouble believing that you came.”

“We both need to thank Gramps for that.”

“I think we should name our first son after him.”

Carla shook her head. “He’d never forgive us for naming a boy Otis.”

“We’ll name him after your dad, then.”

“He’d like that.” Good heavens, the sun must have some effect on her mind. Here they were discussing the names of their children, and Carla wasn’t even convinced she should marry Philip!

“Jeff and Sylvia are here,” he announced, and his expression became sober. Carla turned and noticed a sky-blue half-ton pickup kick up gravel as it pulled into the parking lot.

A lanky fellow with a thick patch of dark hair jumped down from the driver’s seat and hurried around to help his obviously pregnant wife.

Sylvia, a petite blonde with warm blue eyes, pressed a hand to the small of her back as she ambled toward them. Carla guessed that Jeff’s wife must be seven or eight months pregnant.

“Hi, you must be Carla.” Jeff held out his hand, not waiting for an introduction.

“Hi. You must be Jeff.”

Sylvia offered her a gracious smile. “I’m glad you could make it.”

“The whole team’s ecstatic she could make it. Philip hasn’t been worth a damn since he got back from Mexico. I certainly hope you’re going to put this poor guy out of his misery and marry him.”

Carla’s startled eyes clashed with Philip’s. This was exactly what she’d feared would happen. She didn’t want to have to answer these kinds of questions. They were bad enough coming from Philip and Gramps.

“I…I’m not sure what I’m going to do,” she answered stiffly, her eyes challenging Philip.

Nine

The warm sun had disappeared beyond the horizon, and the sunbaked land cheerfully welcomed the cool breath of evening. The flickering flames of a campfire licked at the remaining pieces of dry wood.

Sylvia and Carla were the last to remain by the dying fire. The other women were busy tucking their little ones into bed, and the sound of their whispers and hushed giggles filled the still evening air. Carla and Sylvia glanced at each other and grinned. Next year Sylvia would be joining the other young mothers. And next year Carla…She closed her eyes and shook her head. She didn’t know what she’d be doing.

Jeff, Philip, and the rest of the ten-man relay team were meeting to plan their strategy for the coming race. An air of excitement drifted through the campgrounds. The Great Soap Lake Canoe Race had dominated the conversation all afternoon. This was the first year the Spokane Police Department was competing, and their cheering squad held high expectations. For the last couple years, the eighteen-and-a-half-mile course had been won by a two-man marathon team in the amazing time of two hours and thirty minutes. Philip’s teammates seemed to think that ten men in top physical condition could easily outmaneuver two. The most incredible fact, Carla thought, was that every team that had ever entered this outrageous competition had finished. “Carla?” Sylvia’s voice broke into her reverie, and she looked up.

“Hmm?”

“Jeff didn’t mean to put you on the spot this afternoon—about marrying Philip, I mean,” Sylvia said shyly. “It’s just that we all like him so much.”

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