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That was true. And yeah, he could be angry about it, about all the missed opportunities and futures he would never get to have.
But he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad about it, at least not now. And he certainly couldn’t be mad at Beth.
There had been two of them that night on the couch at HQ. And he was the one who’d lost control. He should have thought about condoms and he hadn’t; while she might have missed a pill, it could also have failed. Either way, no amount of recriminations would help now.
Besides, apart from anything else, even if he had been angry, pacing about and shouting would only make things worse since Beth was clearly shocked and upset, not to mention ill.
He couldn’t do that to her. He wouldn’t.
Finn squeezed her hands, then let them go, rising to grab the thick woolen blanket that hung over one arm of the sofa, then wrapping it around her shoulders and tucking it in firmly.
“You don’t have to do that,” Beth protested weakly, “I’m not actually sick.”
“You are,” he said. “You’re as white as a sheet and having nothing to eat all day is only going to make you feel worse.”
She looked up at him, green eyes shadowed, the circles under her eyes pronounced and very muchnotthe Beth she usually was. “Why are you being so nice about this?”
“Because getting angry and upset won’t help. Plus it doesn’t change the situation, so what’s the point?”
“But I—”
“One step at a time,” he interrupted gently. “That’s the way we’re going to deal with it. And right now, the first step is making sure you’re warm, that you’re hydrated, and have something in your stomach. Then we’re going to talk about where to go from here.”
“Yay,” she said with some sarcasm, clearly trying to make a joke out of it. But he could see the fear in her eyes. The same fear he’d seen down in the gallery earlier that day.
Before he could think better of it, Finn reached down and cupped her cheek, her skin soft and warm against his palm. “It’ll be okay,” he said, rubbing a reassuring thumb across her cheekbone. “I promise. Whatever happens, we’ll handle it. But first, you need something to eat.”
She stared at him for a long moment, and this time he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Then she sighed. “Thanks, but I don’t want anything.”
“Oh, you’ll want this.” Finn dropped his hand, trying to ignore how the warmth of her skin lingered on his fingertips. “Now why don’t you lie down and rest for a bit, while I get you a little something?”
Beth muttered under her breath, but he decided to ignore that, striding out of the living room and going down the hallway to the kitchen.
He’d do his special chicken soup for her. That was easy on sick tummies but contained plenty of liquid for hydration and some protein too. Sheri had liked it when she was in the middle of chemo.
You’re going to make her Sheri’s special soup?
An old pain coiled in his gut, and for a moment, he stood in the kitchen doorway, grief gripping him tight.
Sheri had loved the soup he made for her, and he’d loved making it because it helped him feel like he was doing something. As if he could make a difference somehow. It was her meal, so really, what right did Beth have to it?
Except he couldn’t think like that. It would be making far too big a deal out of it if he could only make it for Sheri. It was only soup, for God’s sake; he couldn’t be precious about it.
Anyway, Sheri would be appalled. It wasn’thersoup, she’d tell him. Don’t be so bloody sentimental, Finn. She’d been a very down-to-earth, practical sort of woman, yet one with a big heart. She wouldn’t want to deny Beth the soup.
She wouldn’t want him mooning around feeling sad about it either.
Shoving thoughts of his wife away, Finn started opening and closing cupboards in the small kitchen, poking around for ingredients.
Luckily all the things he needed were there—it was a simple recipe—and soon he had a big pot of soup on the stove. While it was simmering, he went out and sorted through the equipment he needed for the trek the next day, then checked on the horses and Karl, whowassaying hello to Jeff since the mutt liked the horse for some inexplicable reason. Then he finished up any remaining chores.
After he’d done that, he looked in on Beth and was pleased to see she’d fallen asleep on the sofa. A good thing. She’d looked exhausted, and no wonder—all of this had to have been a big worry for her.
Not long after that, the soup was done, so Finn filled a bowl for her, grabbed a spoon, and went back into the living room. There was a small, very rustic-looking wooden coffee table near the sofa that he put the bowl and spoon down on before going over to where Beth still lay asleep.
Her hair had come loose from its ponytail, lying in a pale tumble over the old, worn dark-green upholstery of the couch, and she had her hands curled beneath her chin like a child. She looked very small and vulnerable, and a protectiveness he didn’t want to acknowledge gathered inside him.
He looked after people, that’s what he did, and it was fine with clients—there was nothing emotional about the way he looked after them. With his brother and Levi, it was a bit different because them he did care about. But they were grown men, big enough and ugly enough to look after themselves. Then there was Gus, and he’d lay down his life for her. But again, that was different. She was his niece, and he had no choice in the matter.
