“Good. Now, do you know when to stick your nose back into your own business? You can sit there and be my judge and jury all day long, but at least I’m not running away to the army and messing around with a woman my older brother’s in love with.”
Ben’s head jerked up. “Kevin’s not interested in Carlie.”
Nadine let out a snort of disbelief.
“He’s been seeing some girl in Coleville—”
“Tracy Niday. Yeah, I know.” She slid into the chair next to Ben and arranged the salt and pepper shakers around the napkin holder. “But they broke up and if you ask me, he fell pretty hard for Carlie. The way I see it, his interest in Tracy was all a rebound thing, because Carlie hurt him.”
“That’s not what he told me,” Ben said stubbornly. He didn’t want to believe that Kevin was emotionally entangled with Carlie. Not now. Now when he, himself, was becoming involved with her.
Nadine looked him straight in the eye and smiled sadly, as if she thought he were the most stupid beast to ever walk the earth. “You have to read between the lines, Ben. It’s hard for you, I know. You like things in black and white, no gray areas. Cut-and-dried. But that’s not how the world works.”
“And that’s why you’re gonna marry Sam, because of some gray area?”
She flushed and stared at her hands. “It just seems like the thing to do.”
“Isn’t it a ‘rebound thing’ because of Hayden Monroe?”
“It’s over between Hayden and me.”
Ben clamped his hands under his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Tell me you love Sam.”
She opened her mouth, closed it and sighed. “I’m not sure I believe in love anymore.”
“Liar. You’re still in love with that jerk Monroe, aren’t you?”
“He’s out of my life,” she said, her voice a little husky.
“So Sam’s second best.”
“Sam has always cared about me,” she said simply, lacing her fingers together and biting her lower lip.
“You’re settling, Nadine.”
Her restless green eyes lifted to meet his. “It’s my choice, isn’t it, Ben? Don’t worry about me, I’ve learned from my mistakes. Besides, I think you’ve got your own battles to fight.”
* * *
THE PARK WAS nearly empty because of the threat of a thunderstorm. Picnic tables were vacated, the barbecue pits cold, the playground equipment without children.
In a private copse of fir trees, Carlie lay on a blanket with Ben, nibbling at her sandwich of French bread, cream cheese, turkey and sprouts. They’d decided upon a picnic and a few little thunderclouds hadn’t changed their plans.
Ben had seemed quiet all afternoon. He smiled rarely, and his eyes were troubled and dark.
“Something’s bothering you,” she said, tossing pieces of bread to the ducks that were hovering near the edge of the water. With loud squawks and fluttering of wings, two vied for the delicacy.
“I’m fine.”
“What you are is a terrible liar.” Throwing the final scrap of bread to a brown mallard who had waddled close to the blanket, she glanced up at Ben. His mouth was firm and set, his jaw tight, the skin over his cheekbones stretched thin. Lying across the blanket, leaning on one elbow, he’d brooded for nearly an hour. “What gives?”
“I’m thinking of joining up.”
She didn’t think she’d heard him right. “You’re what?”
“I talked to an army recruiter today.”
The bottom dropped out of her world. “But why?”