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Studying her, Matthew saw the deep sadness in her eyes. He had to grip his fishing pole to keep from pulling her protectively into his arms. Instead, he looked around, pretending he was afraid of listening ears, then lowered his voice. “Love,” he whispered as if it were a state secret.
“Love?” she scoffed at him. “How does that make you live longer?”
“Because your memory never dies in the ones you leave behind. With all my brothers, Ginny, and all the children I plan to have, I will live into infinity.”
Alanna lay back on the blanket, setting her fishing pole next to her. “How many children do you plan to have?”
“I plan to outdo my dad. I’m going to have ten children.”
“Do all your family members want large families?”
“Yes, that’s why we work so hard, so we won’t have to sell any land off. We want to have our own little town.”
“That makes sense; you all had a happy childhood and want to share the same experience with your own children.” Alanna curled onto her side, laying her cheek on her arm.
Matthew rested his weight on his elbow to stare down at her. “How many children do you plan to have?” Matthew saw her lashes fan across her cheek when she closed her eyes.
“None.” She opened her eyes. “I can’t have children.”
Matthew felt as if someone had just snuck up behind him and stabbed him in the back.
“You can’t or won’t?” he asked hoarsely.
“Can’t.”
He wanted to ask her why, but knew it wasn’t the appropriate question to ask. He had been focused on his pain and had missed the grief in her eyes. Slowly, Matthew reached down to trail a lone fingertip over her exposed cheek.
“I’m sorry. You love children, so that must be hard for you.”
“I don’t let myself think about it often.”
“Then we’ll change the subject. Luckily for you, I had a feeling we wouldn’t be having a fish fry, so I brought some sandwiches.”
Her expression lightened. “So, we can stop fishing?”
“I take it you don’t like fishing?”
“It won’t be on my list to try again, no,” she said, straightening back into a seated position.
Matthew tugged the nylon bag he had brought from his home. He opened the bag and took out the two sandwiches he had prepared, handing her one.
Her eyes widened when her hand dipped at the weight. “I can’t eat the whole thing. This is enough to feed three people.”
“Or”—he grinned, opening his own mammoth-sized sandwich—“you and the person sitting next to you.”
“Now that makes sense.”
“Yes, it does. Just eat as much as you like, and I’ll finish it off.”
“What if I ate most of it?” she teased before taking a large bite of the sandwich.
He delved his hand back into the bag, pulling out three bags of chips, bottled waters, and four candy bars.
“You’re a man who thinks of everything,” she complimented.
“I try to. I wanted you to enjoy yourself.”
“Why?”
