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Oh.
This could be it. Rowan subtly squeezed the ring finger on her left hand.
Harry leaned in and dropped his voice to intimate tones. “When are you going to tell me the truth about Cheesesteak Friday?”
Rowan shrank a bit, shoving disappointment down. Lightly, she said, “The night we met, Frankie said you and I would fall in love. I told her no way. Loser owed the winner a month of Cheesesteak Fridays. I lost.”
“I’m glad you lost.” Harry’s eyes twinkled at her. Then he tucked his hair behind his ears and looked down into the picnicbasket. “I have something to show you before it gets completely dark.”
Her bloodstream turned to quicksilver, and she held her breath. Wasthisit?
Harry shuffled around inside the basket. “I’ve been dying to share this with you.”
He withdrew a small, narrow tube.
Nope.
After popping the flat cap off the end of the tube, he slid out a rolled piece of paper, then spread it on the blanket between them. He used the wine bottle and a round of wrapped brie to keep it flat. It was an artist’s sketch of a lovely brick building on beautifully landscaped grounds.
A look of unfiltered joy overcame Harry’s features as he looked down at it. He held his breath.
“Harry, this is beautiful.” Rowan smoothed a hand over the paper. “What is it?”
“It’s—ah—” Sitting up straight, he hesitated, and scrubbed a hand across his mouth. “It’s a maternity and wellness center. My new practice. I mean, it will be.”
Rowan was overwhelmed with a swirl of emotions too heavy to untangle. Pride. Excitement for Harry. Longing. A darker thread of envy thatthisthing, this place, was what owned his heart in that moment. She couldn’t speak. Where would this take him?
Was it in California?
Could she go, too?
His brows crowded together, and he looked from the drawing to her. “Are you okay?”
Rowan blinked fast and nodded. Smiled weakly. Hated herself a little for her utter inability to not taint this with her selfishness. “God, yes, Harry, this is—wow. It’s huge.”
Excitement reignited in his face. He took her hand, speakingin a rush. “People out here in the valley need to drive to Linden for care. Some go all the way into Philly. I got the wild idea—well, Arden gave me the idea—why not bring care to them? I’ll still need to refer some pregnancies to the hospital system, but this is going to be something new. Pregnancy isn’t pathology, you know? All babies don’tneedto be born in hospitals. And easier access to wellness visits means more people will do it. I’m going to hire a few midwives, some nurses, and we’re going to do it all there.”
Rowan felt the blood drain from her head. “Where are you building this, Harry?”
He looked perplexed. “About two miles down the road from Three Birds. Daily commute will be, ah, about ten minutes each way.”
Rowan’s chin quivered uncontrollably. “Here?”
Harry scooted forward, brushing an escaped tear from her cheek. “Yes, here. Where else would I go?”
She pressed her lips tight and shook her head.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you until now.” His voice was low, soothing. “I wanted it to be perfect. The last thing I was waiting on was Wesley’s blessing to name it after Cora. This is the Cora Woodward Maternity and Wellness Center.”
Harry withdrew a photo from the basket and handed it over. Rowan expected a photo of Cora, but instead, this one featured Harry standing next to a bald, bearded man nearly as tall as him, both of them smiling. In his arms, Harry held a grinning toddler squeezing a floppy plush puppy.
“This is from when I flew to L.A. last month. That’s Wesley.” He took a big breath and smiled. “And that’s little Harrison Storm. He looks just like Cora.”
The photo blurred as Rowan’s eyes overflowed with tears. God, she loved this man. She laid the photo aside and climbed awkwardly into his lap, throwing her arms around his shoulders.Harry buried his face in her hair, laughing as he struggled to keep them upright.
“What is it, sweetheart?” His voice was muffled.
She shook her head against his. No words.
