Free Somebody Like You by Beth K. Vogt

who understand how you feel—”
    “Me and strangers? I don’t think so. I’m sad. I miss Sam. And I’m going to have a baby in April. There’s not much to figureout there. Grieve. Move on. Figure out how to be a mother to this little boy of mine.”
    Claire giggled. “You know, you could have a girl. I’ve heard of ultrasounds being wrong—”
    “Don’t even suggest it. I don’t do girls—and they don’t do me. The only reason we get along is because you decided to be my friend—although I don’t know why.” She patted her tummy. “This is Sam’s son.”
    “Are you having any more ultrasounds to confirm that?”
    “I’ve already had two—one at my first appointment when I was sixteen weeks, just to confirm dates. And then they did what they called an ‘anatomic survey’ at twenty weeks—checking fingers and toes and his heart and other stuff.”
    “And the ‘other stuff ’ indicated you’re having a boy?”
    “That’s what the ultrasound tech told me—not officially, but she seemed pretty certain.”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “I am having a boy—now stop with the uh-huh !”
    “Fine. Do you have any names picked out?”
    “No, not yet. I’ll figure something out. I’ve got plenty of time.” She realized the microwave had been beeping to let her know her dinner was reheated. “Time to eat.”
    “Listen, before you go, did you select a childbirth class?”
    “Not yet, but I will.”
    “You keep saying that.”
    “I will. I forgot. Ask me after my appointment this week.”
    “You want me to go with you?”
    “No need. I’m good.”
    Haley stood in the middle of the kitchen holding her iPhone after saying good-bye to Claire. She would be good. She didn’t have a choice—and come April, another personwould be depending on her to make everything okay, just as Sam had.
    If she paused, closed her eyes, she could still see the look of hesitant recognition in Sam’s brown eyes over three years ago when he walked up to the counter at the gun club.
    “Have we met before?” Sam stood with his hands tucked in his jeans, a gray army T-shirt covered by a blue flannel shirt.
    “Maybe.” Haley resisted smoothing her hair.
    “You going to tell me where?”
    “You’re a smart man, Sam Ames. Figure it out.” She wasn’t going to waste her time on a guy who couldn’t even remember her name. She hadn’t been wearing that much makeup at the wedding two weeks ago. A dress, yes—but that didn’t alter her appearance that much.
    She walked away to help another customer who wanted to check out some of the guns on display in the glass cases. As she explained the different merits of several models, she knew Sam watched her. Every time she glanced his way, he was standing where she’d left him, a slight frown on his face. At least she wasn’t one of those women who blushed or stammered when she was nervous. Growing up with three older brothers had killed any of those outward signs of anxiety. Never let a guy see you sweat—or cry.
    Ten minutes later, when the customer left, saying he’d think about the classic .45-caliber Colt M1911, Sam approached her again, his walk easy, slow. “I’d like to see that nine-millimeter.” He pointed to one of her favorite models.
    “Sure thing.” She bent to retrieve the gun. “You interested in adding to your collection—or just starting one?”
    “I’d like to try it out on the range today.”
    “Then I’ll need some identification—your driver’s license will be fine.”
    “I’ll hand over my license . . . if you give me your phone number,Haley.” A half smile quirked his mouth, deepening the cleft in his chin.
    “Remembered me, didja?” After laying the gun on the counter, she held out her hand for his driver’s license.
    “Jill and Randy’s wedding. Yes, I remember you.”
    She’d given him her phone number—and they’d shared their first kiss the next night after a movie.
    Another beep from the microwave reminded her that the