“Whatever it is, I’m ready to give birth to it.” With a grin, she took one step toward the kitchen before turning back. “Reese loves you,” she said softly.
Sloan stiffened, but either Bethany didn’t notice or she didn’t care, because she kept talking.
“She might not ever be able to say it, but she’d be lost without you. That’s why you’re here. Not because she doesn’t want you, but because she wants you too much. We want the people we love the most to be the safest. It’s why Arch brought me here.”
The mention of his dead friend made Sloan wince. “He’d probably be rethinking that decision now.”
“No, he wouldn’t.” Bethany shook her head emphatically. “He’s looking down and saying I made the right decision, because there’s no safer place for me to have his baby than right here, and you’re a big part of that.”
*
As two days went by and no word came from the teams, Sloan became unbearable. People around town stopped talking to him. A lot of the teenagers were actually crossing the street so that they wouldn’t accidentally come within speaking distance of him.
By the third day, Bethany grabbed him outside the restaurant and told him to leave.
“And go where?” he demanded.
“I don’t know. Anywhere. You’re scaring the kids.”
Sloan looked at the bent head of Christine, who scurried by him without a word. Fuck. Bethany was right. He was scaring the kids.
“Fine. I’ll stop in on Scott and Anna,” he muttered, and he could swear Bethany almost keeled over with relief.
“That sounds like a fabulous idea,” she said cheerfully.
Scott and Anna were the older couple who’d been living on a farm about two miles outside of Foxworth. They’d been there when Reese moved in, and she’d more or less adopted them. In exchange for meat and produce, Scott and Anna were protected by the deals Reese had made with the Enforcers. It was a good arrangement all the way around. Well, for everyone but the cows—the livestock hadn’t been able to keep up with the demand, and the herd was down to three.
Twenty minutes later, Sloan killed the engine of his motorcycle and went searching for Scott, finally finding him tilling one of the far fields. Although there was a barn full of machinery fifty yards away, fuel was too precious to use to farm, so Scott did most of the work with a shovel and his own two hands.
“How’s it going?” Sloan called out.
The older man pulled a handkerchief out of his breast pocket and wiped his hands before holding one out for a handshake. “It’s going well, brother. Any word?”
Reese had come out to warn the couple before the convoy headed out, so Sloan wasn’t surprised by the question. “None. I don’t know whether to be anxious or happy.”
“Hard not to be anxious.”
“You two doing okay out here?”
Scott plucked the hat off his head and swiped his forehead with a meaty arm. Years of hard work had kept the sixtysomething farmer trim and fit. “Yup. Anna made a pie the other day. I found some berries in the woods. Come in and have a bite.”
No matter what kind of dark mood was riding him, Sloan wasn’t dumb enough to turn down a piece of homemade pie. He followed Scott into the house, knocking his boots against a scraper at the door before entering. They both removed their light winter jackets and tossed them on the coat rack in the hall.
They found Anna in the kitchen, looking lovely as always.
Sloan bent down and placed a kiss against her forehead. “You look more beautiful every time I see you.”
It was the truth. Her face was lined from the sun, her once yellow hair had all turned gray, and her sturdy frame had thickened as the years wore on, but she never failed to take Sloan’s breath away. There was a serenity and contentment that surrounded her, and her home was filled with peace that Sloan couldn’t find anywhere else.
With a smile, Anna turned back to the counter. “Scott found berries in the woods. It’s still too early for them and they’re a little tart, but the honey we had stored from last year sweetened them up good.”
She plated a large slice and slid it in front of him. It smelled heavenly.
“When are you going to run away with me, Anna?” he asked as he watched the pastry flake apart under his fork.
“Oh, honey, you know I can’t do that. My man would kill you, and we only have so much space on this farm to bury dead bodies.”
Sloan choked on his first bite. He’d forgotten how dark her humor was.
“All right then.” He winked at her. “I’ll just eat this pie and shut up about our illicit plans.”
Scott heaved himself into a chair next to him, the pine creaking under his solid frame. His woman had a plate in front of him before his hat could even come off. She laid a weathered hand on his shoulder and Scott gave it a pat before she moved off again.