A Place To Call Home. Laurie Paige

into a bundle, he held it at the back of her neck so he could observe her face. “What’s happening?”

      “Miscarriage,” she said. “I think.”

      A shiver ran down his back. While he’d taken a first aid course, he wasn’t equipped for this type of emergency. He held her until the contraction subsided, until she sighed and pulled slightly away and gazed at him.

      “Thanks for coming.” Her smile was weak, apologetic. “You were the only person I could think of…the only one I trusted.”

      “Shouldn’t we go to the hospital or something?” he asked, wondering where all her elite, sophisticated friends were. She was part of the “in” crowd at the university.

      “In a minute,” she said and gasped, bending forward from her waist and grasping her knees again. “Help me to the bathroom.”

      He cupped an arm around her waist and half carried her into the adjoining room. Sweat trickled down his scalp, his chest, his back.

      She gave him a weary, rueful glance from eyes that looked like bruised petals. He stepped back into the other room, leaving the door ajar in case she needed him.

      Peering into the dingy mirror, she combed her hair and pulled it back with a stretchy band, then splashed water on her face. Little curling tendrils formed around her face, making her look as vulnerable as eleven-year-old Krista. Her audible sigh dipped right down inside him.

      When she came out, he slipped an arm around her waist and helped her to the cot. Following her instructions, he gathered her belongings and erased all signs of her having been in the cabin. He stored the stuff in the truck and came back for her.

      “Let me rest a minute, then we’ll go,” she said, then with a brief smile, she added, “Poor Jeremy. After donating blood and saving my life, are you worried that you’ll have to take care of me for the rest of your life?”

      “The thought never entered my mind.”

      That was the truth. She’d been a spectator at an illegal drag race a couple of months ago. The cars had side-swiped each other and a piece of chrome had flown off and hit her in the neck. It was one of those freakish moments life liked to throw at a person. He and his uncle, being O-negative in blood type, had been called by the hospital to help replace the large amount of blood she’d lost.

      At the time, he hadn’t known their lives would become entangled due to family ties, he mused as he took a sip of coffee and returned to the present and the restaurant, aware of glances their way from other patrons. Zia drew attention wherever she went although, as usual, she seemed unaware of it.

      He stared at the scar on the side of her neck, still visible above the collar of the shirt all these years later.

      “I wore turtlenecks for the rest of that year so no one could see the scar,” she said, her eyes following his line of sight as she added milk and sugar to the cup of steaming tea.

      “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.” He looked at the sky, now a dark blue with a crystal drop of teal clinging to the horizon.

      “You were remembering the past,” she said. “I was, too. It was terrible of me to put you in such a position. I didn’t know who else to call.”

      “I wondered why you didn’t call Sammy.”

      Her lovely face became solemn with a disillusionment she’d never before allowed to surface in his presence. “He’d already walked out on me once. I would hardly give him a chance to do so again. My best friend had driven me to the cabin and promised not to tell anyone where I was. I didn’t want to call her out in the middle of the night. Her parents would have questioned her if they’d heard her leaving at that hour.”

      “So that left me.”

      “Yes.” She sipped the tea, then gazed at him over the rim of the cup, the steam adding a mysterious aura to her eyes. “I’ve tried not to bother you with my woes since then.”

      “Have there been other problems?” he asked.

      She shook her head. Wispy curls floated around her temples. He remembered how soft her hair had been the one time he’d touched it. Sometime past midnight of that night long ago, he’d taken her to a twenty-four hour clinic where she’d been checked out and pronounced fine. The doctor had told them that over fifty percent of first pregnancies ended in miscarriage.

      “Just the body’s way of preparing for the real thing,” he’d assured them in a hearty manner, treating them as a couple.

      Neither he nor Zia had explained the truth. Between the two of them, they had managed to pay the bill. Later he’d received a check from Zia for his share. Two words had been written on the accompanying note. “Thanks forever.”

      “Actually my life is quite calm and peaceful. Just the way I like it.” Her smile was droll.

      He smiled, too. “Same here.”

      “No serious involvement to give you heart pains?” she teased, surprising him with the question.

      He grimaced. The woman he’d been dating had made it clear she wasn’t interested in moving from Cedar City in the southwestern part of the state to another small town in the northeastern section, so that had ended the relationship. “None. You?”

      Her smile dimmed a bit. “I was going pretty steady with a high school teacher in Provo when this job offer came up. When he didn’t get down on his knees and beg me to stay, I was disappointed. Then I realized the promotion meant more to me than he did.”

      “You didn’t love him,” Jeremy murmured.

      “I cared about him, but I didn’t want a lifelong commitment.” Her eyes seemed to darken. “I’m not sure I ever will.”

      “You can’t let a jerk like Sammy influence the rest of your relationships,” he advised.

      “No, I haven’t. At least, I don’t think I have.” She sighed. “Mom’s worried, though. She made some strong hints during the wedding festivities that I might be too picky. I didn’t remind her that her first attempt at marriage ended in divorce.”

      “Is that what you’re afraid of?”

      “I’m not afraid of anything,” she said, her tone cooler. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sound sharp. I just haven’t met the one, I suppose.”

      “Yeah, same here.”

      “All my friends thought you were a hunk,” she murmured on a determinedly lighter note. “They kept dropping by the house when we were home on vacations. Did you notice?”

      He shook his head. “I was concentrating too hard on getting my courses in, making decent grades and graduating. Nothing was going to stand in my way.”

      “That’s what my mother said I should do when I was going with Sammy. I’ve never had the courage to tell her she was right.”

      “It was a long time ago,” Jeremy advised, catching a hint of regret in her manner. “We were young.”

      “Young,” she echoed, brushing back a curl from her cheek. “And foolish. Why do those two go together so easily?”

      When she laughed, he did, too. But he didn’t share the irony. He felt sorry for her. She’d learned a hard lesson in trust, one she’d obviously never forgotten. However, that was neither here nor there. He felt he could truthfully report to her mom that Zia was safe and well in her new environment.

      “Ready to go?” he asked as she patted back a yawn.

      Zia studied the three-story building where she would be working come August. She had seven weeks to find a place to live, get her furniture out of storage and settle in. That should be plenty of time.

      Meanwhile, she was reading over all her books on continuous courses of study for students from first to twelfth grade.

      Research