He cleared his throat. “Beautiful day today. Looks like an ideal one for marching around the alpaca farm this afternoon.”
“That should make Meg and Yandi unbearably giddy.”
Dane laughed. “I’ll be on the other bus.”
“I think I’ll join you.”
The silence fell around them again. There was tension between Dane and her this morning, and she didn’t understand it. She was overly sensitive about such things sometimes, but the spaces between their conversation seemed loaded with unspoken words. She studied his profile while he continued to look out at the water. His face was the picture of masculine perfection in her mind—thick waves of russet hair, the strong, stubble-covered jaw, a nose almost too small for his face but straight and regal. But what she liked most of all was the reflective expression on his face when he listened. He really listened to her. Hilary missed that in her life. When Will didn’t have a million tasks to juggle on the farm, late at night when they were in bed, he and Hilary talked. Will hadn’t been the type to discuss feelings. As much as Hilary loved Cal Larkin, Will’s father was the stony silent type and it rubbed off on his son. But Will had been an excellent listener for the short time she had his ear. He asked questions. And he liked to problem solve. Hilary desperately missed having him as a sounding board.
Hilary was so lost in her thoughts that she’d been rubbing the finger on her left hand where her wedding ring had been. The sharp pang of loss squeezed her chest when the realization hit her again.
“Hilary?”
She looked up.
“You’re shaking your head. Are you okay?”
She let out a short, humorless laugh. Her thoughts had a way of making themselves known lately.
“I lost it yesterday. My wedding ring. It must have slipped off in the water,” she said, flexing her fingers.
He didn’t say anything right away. Then, “I’m so sorry.”
She shrugged with resignation.
“Maybe it’s on the beach. Or in the car,” he said. “We can check for it later.”
Hilary shook her head again. She tried to form the words, but they crouched at the back of her throat.
Dane’s lips were pressed together when she glanced up at him. “I’m sorry,” he said again.
She felt her lip quivering, so she bit down to stop it.
“You don’t need to say anything more—” he started to say as he reached out.
“My husband died two years ago. Drowned while we were on vacation.”
Another pause. She heard the intake of his breath.
“Hilary.” His hand was on her knee. “No wonder.”
The familiar heaviness crept into her chest. There had been a lifetime of tears cried during the first twelve months. She was certain there weren’t any left. Hilary shrugged. Now that she’d told him, there wasn’t much else to say. Embarrassment ignited her face. What did she expect, telling a near stranger about this deep and personal tragedy?
His hand moved from her leg and gently folded itself around her hand. His thumb rubbed her knuckles.
“Thank you for telling me.”
Hilary managed a small smile. His words were comforting. Or was it the warmth of his hand on hers? “Thank you for being here.”
She straightened, feeling the tension in her shoulder muscles ease. Hilary pulled her feet from atop the ottoman. “We should get back inside. The program is about to start.”
Dane checked his phone as he got to his feet.
His name tag hung crooked on his shirt, the safety pin barely grasping the edge of his pocket. Hilary pointed to it. “You’re going to give someone a cramp in their neck if they try to read your badge.” Her voice was hoarse. She coughed to clear it.
He looked down and tried to straighten it. “They’re so awkward to put on.”
Hilary stepped closer, nudging his hand aside, feeling the heaviness of the last few minutes lift. “Here. Let me.”
