Chapter 14

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

" T he bird feeder's empty." Alexandra frowned at the copper contraption hanging from the mesquite tree. She'd been watching a pair of cardinals visit each morning, and she hated to disappoint them. "I'm gonna head to the store. Alone, if you don't mind. I need some more of that peppermint tea that settles my stomach."

Spreag glanced curiously at the neighbor's garden over the low fence, then nodded and went back in the house, though who knew where he really went when she was occupied elsewhere. A long time ago, he'd told her what it was like being a ghost on the battlefield, that when his mind wasn't occupied, he would sort of drift back to his death bed. But this time, there was an ocean between him and the spot on Wickham's ranch where he'd been killed. He couldn't possibly go that far and still come back the second she called for him. Could he?

She started for the garage but movement caught her eye, and she realized why Spreag had glanced over the fence. Callum Fraser was puttering in Tenbury's garden, bent over a raised bed of something or other, wearing a wide-brimmed sunhat of sunflower yellow.

She chuckled quietly. "Nice hat!"

He looked up and his face broke into a grin. "It was hangin' on the wall inside. Might be a woman's hat."

She giggled. "I think it might be a decoration."

He reached up to tap the generous brim. "Ah. Well, that would explain the handy loop."

This time she laughed out loud. "What are you planting?"

"Transplantin' the herbs." He held up a seedling. "Not sure what will grow in this heat."

She started to explain about Arizona's seasons, but Spreag cleared his voice from the doorway, as if he were as impatient for birdseed as the birds were.

"Gotta go." She waved vaguely. "Be careful. That hat is no match for this sunshine. You're not in Kansas anymore."

She felt his attention follow her and hoped Spreag didn't notice.

It was easier to shop alone than to constantly pretend she was on the phone. And it was nice to have some time alone for a change. A chance to breathe and think without her husband trying to read her mind and guess her thoughts. The morning sky was clear and blue and cheerful, so she took her time, enjoying the chance to walk among strangers who didn't know her story.

Target first, for basics. Then Sprouts for produce and tea. Finally Trader Joe's, because their flowers always made her smile.

She debated between pink calla lilies and blue iris, but her deliberations were interrupted when someone gasped behind her.

"Alexandra? Is that you?"

She turned to find Nori Chen--a professor's wife—clutching her cart like she'd seen a ghost.

If she only knew.

"Hello, Mrs. Chen."

"Nori, please." The older woman's eyes were bright with tears. "We've missed you so much. Jun Hie said you were back, but..." She pressed her hand to her heart. "Oh, you poor dear. How are you managing?"

And there it was. The head tilt, the sympathy, the pity she'd been dreading.

"I'm fine." Alexandra grabbed both the pink and blue bundles, unwilling to play favorites until she knew the sex of her baby. And Spreag had yet to relent. "The morning sickness is better."

"The morning... Oh! The baby!" Mrs. Chen's expression shifted from tragic to delighted. "How wonderful! When are you due?"

"June." Alexandra added some yellow freesia to her cart. "Everything's fine. Really."

"Of course." Mrs. Chen nodded. "A new life will help you forget the old. You should--"

"Thank you. I have to get moving. Lots to do." Alexandra got her cart moving. "Tell Jun Hie hello for me."

She barely made it to her car before the tears started. Stupid hormones.

When she got home, Callum was still wearing that silly sunhat, though now he was looking for ripe tangerines. When she pulled in, he set down his load and hurried over to the property line. "Need help with the messages?"

Messages. What Scots called their groceries. But she'd had enough pity for the day.

"I've got it."

Callum took the hint, tipped his silly hat, and went back to the tangerines.

Inside, Spreag took one look at her face and moved close, as if he could wrap her in his arms and make it all better, whatever the trouble. Like he used to.

"What happened, love?"

"Nothing." She swung her bags onto the counter. "Just ran into Nori Chen."

"Ah." He watched her slam cabinet doors. "Full of advice, was she?"

"Overflowing with it. But I cut her off before she could really dig in. I'm just tired of "you know we're here for you. Just call, day or night." Alex flicked the tears from her face with just a touch of violence. "I'm not broken! I don't need fixing."

"Good. Then ye can cease feelin' sorry for yerself."

She gasped, then gasped again. Then took a deep breath and considered the possibility that he might be right. When she exhaled, the vinegar was gone. "You're right. Thank you."

"Ye're welcome.”

She slumped against the counter. "I just wish people would treat me normally."

"They will." He pretended to brush her tears away. "Just remember that ye've had time. Yer friends will need time as well."

She closed her eyes, imagining she could feel his touch. "I love you."

"I love you too." His voice held such tenderness it made fresh tears fall. "Now put away that ice cream before it melts."

She did, then arranged her flowers in separate vases. Outside, birds discovered the newly filled feeder, their songs mixing with the sound of Callum humming something blatantly Scottish.

Life would go on. Different, now, but not tragic.

At least, not completely.