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“It’s me, isn’t it, Bill?” Beth put the sausage roll down on the counter. “I mean, is there anyone else he’s like that with?”
“Who? Finn?” Bill peered inside the paper bag, then rang the pastry up on his till. “Nah, it’s just you.”
“Why? What did I ever do to him?” Clearly it had been something.
“Well, you’re bright, you’re pretty, and you’re American.” Bill held out his hand for the money, which Beth dutifully gave him. “But mainly you’re too cheerful and Finn Kelly’s not in the market for cheer.”
Beth sighed. She was pleased to be called bright and pretty, but there was nothing she could do about that or about the fact that she was American. And as for cheer, if only they knew. Lucky for her they didn’t.
“Thanks, Bill. But who isn’t in the market for cheer? The man could obviously use some.”
The old man counted the change and dumped it into her palm. “He lost his wife five years ago, so I’d say that has something to do with it.”
Beth’s heart gave a sudden, sharp kick.
“Oh,” she said, a little shocked. “I didn’t know that.”
“Why would you? It’s not a secret, but obviously no one talks about it on a daily basis.”
So that was the dark past thing she’d sensed about him. Or at least, it must be. He was a widower.
Her heart gave another little kick, then clenched hard. She’d always been sensitive to other people’s emotions—probably too sensitive—and had a strong sense of empathy.
Maybe that’s why she’d been drawn to him. Why she’d wanted to be his friend. She’d sensed his grief and wanted to make it better.
“That’s awful,” she said quietly.
“Lovely woman, Sheri,” Bill went on, since there was nothing he loved more than imparting information. “Family lived up the valley. She and Finn grew up together. He was devastated when she passed.” He gave Beth a serious look. “Cancer.”
Well, that was terrible. No wonder he was so silent and grave all the time.
“I should have let him have that sausage roll,” Beth said, feeling guilty. “Poor man.”
Bill shook his head. “Oh, no, he wouldn’t have accepted it, anyway. Hates sympathy. And he doesn’t like to talk about it either, so I wouldn’t go around mentioning it to him if I were you.”
She could relate. She hated sympathy too.
“No, of course I won’t,” she murmured. “But…is there anything I can do?”
“It’s been a few years now, so probably not. I’d just take this friendship thing slow. He’s a very reserved, private bloke, is Finn Kelly.”
Oh, she knew that already. He was so reserved it was amazing he spoke to anyone at all, let alone her. But this, at least, was some context.
Still didn’t explain why he was nice to everyone except her though.
What does it matter? Do you really care that much?
Maybe she shouldn’t. And maybe if she hadn’t known about his wife, she wouldn’t. But now that she knew…
She wanted to help him, make him feel better. Bring a smile to his fascinating, handsome face, make that hard mouth soften and curl. Relieve the darkness in his eyes.
Which was stupid because she knew that sometimes all the smiles and optimism and positive thinking in the world couldn’t help some problems. But at least it couldn’t make it worse, right?
She knew the darkness. She’d been there herself.
“Okay,” she said. “Good to know. Thanks, Bill.”
She picked up her sausage roll and stepped outside into the brilliant sunshine of a late summer day.
