Half Moon Hill by Toni Blake Page B

like an accidental voyeur, witnessing a private moment not meant to be shared. Maybe she should ditch looking for books and join the other girls, after all.
    Of course, Jenny chose that moment to open her eyes back up, making instant eye contact with Anna. Too late to run away and leave her be. Which left only one choice. Uncertainly, Anna took quiet steps toward her.
    When she reached Jenny, she spoke low enough not to be heard at the front of the store where the other girls still chattered. “Um, I don’t want to bother you, but . . . are you okay?”
    Appearing a little shell-shocked, Jenny nodded—unconvincingly. But then immediately switched to shaking her head instead.
    Anna felt uncomfortable, but plowed forward. After all, isn’t that how any good Destiny-ite would proceed—let her concern override her fear of intruding? “Can I help?”
    “That’s nice of you, Anna, really—but . . . I don’t think so. This can’t be fixed.” She still looked deeply pained, and Anna couldn’t help thinking it would make much more sense for any of the other women in the store to be having this conversation with Jenny instead of her.
    And then Anna remembered. “Is this about what you and Sue Ann were discussing the last time I saw you? About . . .” For some reason, she dropped her voice to a whisper, as if it were something forbidden. “Getting pregnant?”
    Jenny swallowed visibly, then gave another nod, her expression switching to one of sheepishness. “I just get so emotional over it without warning. It’s stupid.”
    Anna automatically reached out to touch her arm. “It’s not stupid. It’s natural.” She’d never wanted to have a baby herself, not yet anyway, but she understood how deep that sort of yearning could run. Her deceased adoptive mother had once wanted a baby so badly that it had driven her to extremes.
    “Is it?” Jenny asked. “You think so? Because I feel like a basket case.”
    She was clearly embarrassed, and it didn’t help that she and Anna barely knew each other, so Anna wanted to put her at ease. “Of course. I mean, when you want something and aren’t sure how to get it, it can be . . . hard to hold yourself together all the time.”
    Jenny’s eyes softened as she said, “You sound like you know.”
    “Maybe,” Anna said.
    Then Jenny flinched, as if suddenly remembering something else. “Oh Anna—God, I’m so selfish. I mean, you’ve been through so much, and . . .”
    But Anna shook her head. The two situations really couldn’t be compared. “You’re allowed to be upset, Jenny. I’m sure I would be, too, in your situation.”
    Jenny sighed, looked a little appreciative, a little awkward. Then she asked, “How do you do it, Anna? How do you stay so strong even when you’re going through something hard?”
    Anna drew in a breath, thought about the question. “Maybe some of it is just a good act,” she admitted. “And maybe some of it is finding other things to focus on. Maybe it’s about . . . looking for new directions or something.”
    Jenny nodded, and appeared to be weighing the idea. “New directions. Like buying your house and turning it into a bed-and-breakfast.”
    Anna nodded. Though . . . maybe “new direction” was just a prettier way of saying “distraction.” After all, even coming to Destiny—which had seemed so brave in ways—had probably at heart just been a distraction from her mother’s death. And maybe it had only opened up new problems from which she’d then needed more distractions. And . . . now that she thought about it, even the house was now requiring still more distractions—or the guy helping her fix up the house was anyway. And it occurred to her that maybe seeking out distraction after distraction meant she wasn’t really ever facing her issues—but at least it kept her moving forward in some way, kept her from crumbling.
    “Well,” Jenny said, “maybe I’ll . . . try to think about that. Maybe find