Chapter Twenty
Bea couldn’t help eyeing the empty washing line warily as they set out for their walk on Tuesday morning.
Blane didn’t say a word about it, but he didn’t need to.
She knew he didn’t believe the wind had taken the tablecloth.
She didn’t really believe it herself. She took hold of his hand as they stepped out onto the lane.
She was enjoying these morning walks. The sun was warm enough to be pleasant, but it wasn’t too hot yet, and she already knew she was going to miss this part of her mornings when Blane was gone.
She’d keep up with the walking, but it wouldn’t be the same without him.
“What do you think?” she asked. “Should we do the full loop this morning? Go down to the bakery?”
“I’m up for it if you are. We haven’t had those baklava things in a couple of days. I know you like those.”
She laughed softly. “And we both know I’m not the only one. You like them too.”
“Yeah, I do. But we can pick some up later if you don’t feel like walking all the way back up the hill.”
“I’d like to. I wasn’t sure I’d make it all the way back up the first time, but these regular walks have done me good. I’m starting to get into better shape.”
She felt a flush creep over her cheeks when he turned and let his gaze travel over her.
“You’re in great shape, Bea, and you’re beautiful.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me.”
She smiled. She knew him well enough by now to understand what he meant. Blane didn’t say things simply because he thought she wanted to hear them. If he told her she was beautiful, or that she looked good, it was because that was what he saw when he looked at her.
“Well, I’m thanking you anyway. I feel so much better for getting out and walking like this every day, and I wouldn’t have started if it weren’t for you.”
“I’m just glad I got to be here and share it with you.”
Her eyes filled before she could stop them.
She turned her head, pretending to look across the field before he could see.
He didn’t need to know how hard his words had hit her.
It was silly to hear them the way she had, as though their time together was already over, and he was talking about it in the past tense.
She could feel that he was watching her, but she couldn’t let him see her face yet; it would give her away. She kept her gaze determinedly turned away from him and spotted something moving in the field beyond the shepherd’s hut.
She slowed, squinting toward it, then stopped. “What is that?”
Blane came to stand behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders as she peered into the distance, trying to make her brain make sense of what she was seeing.
Even while she concentrated on the strange shape moving toward them, she was far too aware of how much she liked having him at her back like that.
The figure had passed the shepherd’s hut now, and suddenly her brain made sense of it. She burst out laughing.
“Oh my God. Blane, look.”
“What?”
She pointed, laughing too hard to explain, and he followed the direction of her finger.
Pericles was trotting toward them through the field, trailing an unmistakable expanse of white lace behind him.
Blane went completely still, and Bea laughed harder.
He stared at the goat for another long moment. “That fucking goat.”
Bea still hadn’t gathered her composure when Katerina’s sister, Dimitra, came hurrying up the lane toward them. She stopped dead when she spotted Pericles and called out something that Bea, despite her limited Greek, was fairly sure she understood the gist of—and it didn’t bode well for the goat.
Pericles approached looking shamefaced, if that were possible for a goat.
Dimitra gave Bea an apologetic look and hurried over to free the tablecloth, which had somehow snagged on one of his horns. Bea imagined he must have been wearing it since sometime yesterday.
“He is bad boy.”
“Yeah, we already established that,” Blane agreed.
Dimitra rolled up the tablecloth and presented it to Bea. “Sorry. Sorry.”
“That’s all right. I’m sure it’ll wash.”
As they watched Dimitra hop over the low stone wall, catch hold of Pericles’s ear and lead him away, Bea kept getting the giggles.
Blane cocked an eyebrow. “You find it funny?”
She laughed. “Not just funny—hilarious. Of course, I hope there’s no lasting damage to the lovely tablecloth, but Blane, did you see him trotting across the field? He looked absurdly pleased with himself, like he’d stolen the thing deliberately and was waiting for compliments.”
Blane made that huffing sound.
“You’re not amused?”
“Maybe. It might take me a while to forgive him for stealing the damn thing first. I’ve been running all kinds of possible scenarios through my head.”
She linked her arm through his. “You’re just annoyed because you never suspected a phantom goat thief might be the culprit.”
He shook his head with a smile. “I didn’t. Suppose I should be grateful to the little bastard, really. It’s always good to get a reminder to think outside the box. Come on. Let’s get down to the bakery and see what we can pick up for later.”
“For later? Not now?”
“We can have them now if you like. I thought you’d want to wait until we get back from the shelter. We’ll have to get our asses into gear if you want to do it all before we go out.”
~ ~ ~
After they returned from their walk with the baklava, Bea would have loved to sit out on the terrace with coffee and simply enjoy the view for a while, but Blane was right.
There wouldn’t be enough time to do everything they wanted to today if they lingered over every part of it, and so here they were, on their way to the animal shelter.
She was driving again, and staying on the right side of the road was already starting to come naturally. Blane was reading something on his phone, which she took as a good sign; he seemed much more relaxed about having her behind the wheel now.
He looked up. “You checked this shelter place out before you ever went there the first time?”
“Yes, Blane, I did. I already told you. I don’t know why you have such a bee in your bonnet about it.”
“A bee in my bonnet? What the—” He shook his head. “Never mind. I’m just gonna put that down as one of the weird things you people do with the English language.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Wilder. It’s our language. You people simply borrowed it and mangled it.”
He laughed out loud at that. “Whatever you say. But I’m not getting distracted into arguing about it. I’m trying to make sure there isn’t some scam angle going on here.”
She shot him a look before turning her attention back to the road. “What kind of angle could people running an animal shelter possibly have, Blane?”
“Everybody’s trying to make a buck one way or another. You’d be surprised.”
“Well, I’ll take your word for that, but I really can assure you that these people are lovely. Meg and I came to the shelter a few times. There are so many poor animals who need help, and the ladies who run the place do such a good job.”
“And what exactly are you volunteering yourself for?”
“To come and help out sometimes. Perhaps one day a week, or more if they need me. I can walk the dogs and clean out cages, and I really don’t mind what I do. I want to be helpful.”
She trailed off. When she’d contacted the shelter before the move, she’d thought it might be a good way to get to know people as well as fill some of her time.
Of course she was enjoying working on the garden, and she’d always known that she would, but there had been a niggling fear in the back of her mind that she might end up quite alone unless she made an effort to integrate into the community.
Perhaps that was simply Rosalind’s warnings echoing in her head.
“Besides,” she went on, going back to reassuring Blane since that was easier than reassuring herself about how alone she might feel after he left, “they haven’t asked for any money or anything.
I volunteered my time. The lady who called yesterday wanted me to come in so that we can talk about what that might look like, and honestly, we don’t have to stay for long today.
You were the one who suggested we come so I could get more driving practice. ”
“Yeah, I know, darlin’. I’m not complaining, and I don’t mean to put a downer on it for you either. Sorry. I just don’t like the idea of anybody taking advantage of you.”
She could have been offended, but she knew he didn’t mean to imply that she wasn’t capable of looking after herself, and, as if he’d read her thoughts, he added, “Okay, so maybe it’s more about me.
I know you don’t need me breathing down your neck.
You can figure it out for yourself. But for my own peace of mind, I need to know. Is that okay?”
She reached across and rested her hand on his thigh for a moment. “It’s more than okay, Blane. I love that you want to look out for me.”
A heavy weight of sadness settled in her chest when he covered her hand with his and said, “I do. And I guess what’s really going on is that it’s killing me that I won’t be here to look out for you.
Shit, sorry. I shouldn’t have said it. I know we’re supposed to get back to the bright smiles and all that, but I’m just explaining what’s really going on with me. ”
She squeezed his thigh. “Please don’t say sorry, Blane. I understand. I feel the same way.”
She cleared her throat when her voice cracked. “Since you brought it up, I suppose I should be brave as well and ask—how much longer do we have? When do you have to… I haven’t wanted to know. I wanted to pretend, but…”
He squeezed her hand. “I’ve been the same, darlin’. I don’t know exactly yet, but it’s coming. Soon. Maybe the weekend.”
She tightened her grip on the steering wheel, trying to blink away the ridiculous stinging in her eyes. He hadn’t said anything she hadn’t expected; he’d told her three weeks at the beginning.
“Well,” she said, forcing a brightness into her voice that she didn’t feel, “we’ll just have to make the most of our time, won’t we?”