by Barbara Gee
Hank seemed unsure of what came next. His eyes flicked around the living room, but he held his head completely still, as if unsure whether he was actually allowed to look at everything. Ryan knelt down in front of him, his smile warm.
“This is where we’re staying for now, buddy. There’s not a lot of furniture, but it has everything we need until we can find our own place. I’ll need your help with that, because we’ll live there together and I want to make sure we find a house both of us like. But for now, do you think this will do?”
The little boy nodded. “Do I have a bedroom?” he asked timidly.
“You sure do. It’s right across from mine. Do you want to go see it? Unpack your stuff?”
Libby and Hank each took bags of toys, while Ryan brought the large suitcase and more toys.
“Go all the way down the hall,” Libby said, following behind the cautious little boy. “The last door on the left. Do you know which side left is?”
“Yeah, this one,” Hank said, lifting the bag in his left hand.
“Ah ha. I see you’re a smart boy.” They went into the bedroom, which was bare except for the bed and a small chest of drawers. But the colorful bed spread they had found at Target, with patches of red, yellow and royal blue printed with stars and footballs, helped the room not feel quite so cold and empty.
“Remember, we won’t be here real long,” Ryan said. “When we get our own place you’ll have a better room.”
“This one’s okay,” Hank said. “I can stay in here so I don’t bother you.”
Libby saw Ryan close his eyes for a moment and she knew he hated that his son had ever been made to feel like a nuisance.
“I don’t want you to stay in here, Hank, except to sleep. I want you with me. We need to get to know each other, so that means we’ll have to spend a lot of time together. We won’t stay here at the house the whole time, though. I’ll show you around town. It’s called Chandler and there’s a lot to do here.”
“It’s kinda weird how you guys only lived about a half hour apart, but didn’t know it,” Libby said. “Do you ever remember coming here to Chandler, Hank?”
“No.”
“Well I have good news for you. There’s a big bakery with cinnamon rolls just as big as the one you had last night.”
Hank looked at her and gave a small, timid smile. “I liked the cookie.”
Ryan raised a brow. “What cookie?”
“She put it in the box,” he said, pointing at Libby. “That’s what Grandma said.”
Libby grinned. “I’m glad you liked it.” She looked at Ryan as she unzipped the suitcase. “I added a cookie to the to-go box with his roll. A little surprise for him.”
He gave her a slow smile that practically curled her toes, but then he turned back to his son and they began to unload his toys. Libby opened the suitcase and carefully unrolled the two posters she had taken off the walls in Hank’s old bedroom. One was from the Lion King movie, and one was a hockey team.
Ryan looked over her shoulder. “I have an addition to your epitaph list. You can add ‘she always thought of everything.’ Seriously, Lib, it’s an impressive trait. I would’ve never thought about grabbing those posters.”
“I remembered the big bare walls in here from when I was making his bed.”
“You like hockey, Hank?” Ryan asked.
“I like the Hurricanes. Mom took me to games sometimes. That’s a poster of the whole team I got at a game once. I had a hat, too, but I lost it.”
“I like the ‘Canes, too,” Ryan said. “We’ll go to a game when the season starts back up, okay?”
Hank nodded quickly, as if he was afraid Ryan would change his mind. They got his clothes put away in the drawers and the closet, arranged a nice assortment of his favorite stuffed animals on his bed, and lined the rest of the toys and games up along the wall.
“You can use the bathroom in the hall,” Libby said. “We have towels, soap, shampoo, a toothbrush and toothpaste in there for you. Is there anything else you think you’ll need?”
“No.” Suddenly Hank’s tummy growled loudly, making both Ryan and Libby laugh, even getting a small, embarrassed smile from Hank himself.
“So what do you say we go into town and find some lunch?” Ryan said, tousling the little boy’s hair.
“We can go out for lunch, but your dad is going to cook dinner for us,” Libby said, winking at him.
“He can cook?” Hank asked warily.
Ryan pretended to be shocked. “Can I cook? Of course I can cook. But if you guys want to help, I’ll let you.”
“We can probably do that,” Libby said agreeably. “Come on, let’s get this boy fed before that growling stomach scares me again.”
CHAPTER 19
The day passed quickly, and Ryan couldn’t remember ever enjoying himself more. Libby was a natural with Hank, and she made it easy for him to follow her lead. Hank relaxed ever so slightly, ever so gradually, and by the time they had fixed dinner, consumed the delicious fruits of their labor, and then settled in for a game of Memory, he was talking more, and had actually smiled a few times. It wasn’t a lot, but enough to give Ryan confidence that the happy, carefree boy he had been a few months ago would be released again in time.
When it was time for bed, however, Hank got shy and quiet again. Libby sat beside him on the couch and motioned for Ryan to sit on the other side.
“Hank, I can tell you’re nervous about going to bed. We want to make it better, but we can’t if we don’t know what’s bothering you. You need to tell us. You’re with your dad now, and he loves you. He wants you to be happy, not scared.”
“Hank,” Ryan said gently. “It doesn’t matter what it is you’re scared of, I’m not going to be mad. If you’re scared of the dark, no problem. We’ll leave the light on or get a nightlight, whichever you want. Are you worried about being alone in your room in a strange house? If you are, that’s okay, we can bring some blankets out here and bunk on the couch and the recliner. All you have to do is tell me how to make it better.”
“Do I hafta take a bath?”
“You can take a bath or a shower, whichever you want.” Ryan looked at Libby, then back at Hank. “Or you can skip a night, if you want. You don’t look too dirty to me,” he teased.
“I’ll skip a night,” Hank said, obviously relieved. Ryan couldn’t blame the little guy for not wanting to strip down in an unfamiliar house with people who were still little more than strangers.
“Why don’t you go change into your pajamas, wash your hands and face, and brush your teeth. Then come let us know when you’re ready,” Libby suggested. “And pick out some books if you want your dad to read to you before you go to sleep. I put all the books in the bottom drawer in the chest.”
Hank looked at Ryan, unable to hide his hope. “You’ll read to me?”
“Of course I will. Did you bring your favorite books along?”
“I have one about a baby dragon. It’s long. My mom read some of it before she got sick. But we didn’t finish it and I don’t know if the boy finds the dragon.”
Libby raised her brows at Ryan. This was the most Hank had said at one time since they’d met him. “I think your son likes books,” she said with a smile.
“Well it just so happens I like books and dragons, so this could work out well,” Ryan said, rubbing Hank’s back. “Go get changed, buddy. I’ll come to your room in a few minutes, and we’ll see if we can find out what happens to that little dragon.”
Hank jumped up and practically sprinted to his bedroom. Libby’s eyes filled with sudden tears. “Oh my word, Ry, he’s been wondering about that dragon for months! How awful is it that he didn’t have anyone to finish reading that book to him? I can’t stand to think about him going to bed alone every night, wishing his mom was there to read him his dragon book and kiss him goodnight.”
Ryan ran his hands through his hair and scratched the back of his neck. “I just can’t help thinking about what would have happened
to him if Eve wouldn’t have written that letter. It’s too awful to think about, and yet I do. Over and over.”
“But she did write it,” Libby said. “She wrote it and you’re here with him now, and nothing is going to change that. He’s a lucky little boy. Now go on, go make sure he found everything he needed in the bathroom, and then solve the mystery of the dragon.”
He got up, stopped in front of Libby, took her head in his hands and leaned down to drop a kiss on the top of it. “Oh, wow, Lib. That first kiss was every bit as good as I thought it would be,” he said with a low chuckle as he walked off.
She closed her eyes and let her head fall back against the sofa cushion. That man. It was so easy to picture the three of them as a family. So very easy. How incredible would it be to wake up to those two every morning, go through the day with them, read bed time stories to Hank, and then go to bed with Ryan every night. The thought literally gave her goosebumps. It also filled her with a longing so strong it hurt.
I have to get home—I’m in big trouble here.
***
Ryan got up the next morning and immediately checked on Hank, who was still sleeping peacefully. He took a quick shower, then went to the kitchen where he found a beautiful woman cooking. Her hair was still damp from her own shower, and she smelled incredible. He just barely stopped himself from letting out a growl of appreciation.
“Morning,” he said instead, helping himself to the coffee she had ready. “Can I help?”
“I think I’ve got it. I hope Hank likes pancakes and bacon.”
“You didn’t have to get up to cook for us, but I’m sure glad you did. Your pancakes are the best.”
“I went online and found out how to make the cutest little puppy shaped ones, and I couldn’t wait to try them,” she said. “Plus it’s my last chance to cook breakfast for you guys.”
Ryan stopped his coffee mug halfway to his mouth. “I thought you were leaving on Saturday.”
“I moved it up a day. My flight leaves at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. I’ll get a rental car today so you don’t have to drag Hank to the airport so early.”
He watched her, wishing she would look at him so he could try to read what she was thinking. “Why do you want to leave early? Everything okay at the ranch?” he asked when she just kept stirring the pancake batter.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” She tapped the spoon on the side of the bowl a few times, then put it in the sink and slowly turned to face him. “I thought about using that excuse. I could have told you that Maddy needs me because we’re getting too far behind on our work. And it would have been mostly true, except for the fact that it’s not the real reason I’m leaving early.”
“So what is?” he prompted, trying to find the answer in the blue-green eyes staring up at him.
“I’m leaving early because I don’t want to leave at all.”
“What?” he asked, confused for a moment. Then he comprehended what she was saying, and he also understood how hard it must have been for her to be so honest with him. “Libby—”
He was interrupted by the appearance of little Hank, who peeked into the kitchen, his blonde hair tousled, his expression uncertain. Ryan couldn’t help but smile with pride and love.
“Hey there, Hank. Come on in and see what Libby is whipping up for us.”
Hank approached them, his bare feet soundless. Ryan hoped that soon the little boy would come racing into the kitchen, not caring whether he made noise or not. “Come here, buddy,” he said, reaching down. “Let me lift you up so you can watch her make the pancakes.” He hoisted the small boy easily into his arms, and although Hank was stiff, he didn’t fight it.
“Do you like blueberries in your pancakes, or chocolate chips, or just plain?” Libby asked cheerfully.
His dark eyes widened. “Chocolate chips,” he whispered.
***
Libby looked up at them, then suddenly froze. “Oh my word, stay right there for a second.” She put down the bowl of batter and hurried out of the room, returning with her phone. “I have to take a picture of you guys. You look positively identical. I can’t wait to show the others back at the ranch.” She held up the phone. “Smile, boys,” she urged.
Ryan’s smile was wide and proud, Hank’s was small, but at least it was there. “Here, look at this,” Libby said, holding her phone up so they could see it. “See how much you look like your daddy, Hank? See how your eyes are just like his?”
Hank stared at the phone for a long time. Finally he nodded shyly and snuggled just a tiny bit closer into Ryan’s arms.
“Would you send that to me?” Ryan asked. He was a little choked up and Libby grinned at him, loving the way he looked holding his son. She sent the photo, then turned back to the stove. The guys watched as she poured weird looking shapes onto the griddle, sprinkled on some chocolate chips, then flipped them. When both sides were golden brown, she arranged the shapes into adorable puppy faces on their plates, used more chocolate chips for eyes and the nose, then a slice of strawberry for a little tongue.
The puppy pancake got the biggest smile yet from Hank, and he was almost reluctant to eat the creation. In the end his hunger won out and he devoured not one but two puppies.
When they were cleaning up, Ryan announced they were going to go shopping for a new vehicle after Marilee’s visit, which was scheduled for sometime mid-morning. “I need to get something anyway, and if I get it today, you can just take the rental to the airport tomorrow and turn it in,” he told Libby.
He turned to his son. “What should we get, Hank? A car? An SUV? A truck?”
Hank carefully loaded a plate into the dishwasher. “Truck,” he said decisively.
“Exactly what I was thinking. What color?”
“Black,” Hank said.
“Good choice. Big or little?”
“Big!”
Libby listened as the two discussed the best make of pickup trucks. Naturally Hank knew very little about them, so Ryan explained the pros and cons of Fords, Chevys, Dodges and Toyotas. The little boy hung on his dad’s every word. It made Libby’s heart happy to see the two of them interacting. Hank seemed more at ease with his dad than he had yet, and she thought maybe it was the very long story reading session last night. When she had gone to bed, Ryan was still at it. Both were determined to find out the fate of the baby dragon.
She pressed her hand against her heart. It was a good thing she had changed her flight to a day earlier. One day didn’t seem like such a big deal in and of itself, but considering she was falling more in love with these two by the hour, twenty-four less of them was crucial.
***
After a fun day of truck shopping and going to the park for Hank’s first session of football with his dad, they were winding down. A shiny new black Chevy Silverado pickup truck sat in the driveway, Ryan was in the kitchen making a chicken, broccoli and rice casserole for dinner, and Libby and Hank were playing a game in the living room. When they were cleaning up the game pieces after he had beaten her soundly, she broke the news that she would be leaving in the morning.
“Why?” he asked.
“Well, remember how I told you my family lives really far away? That’s where I live, too, and that’s where my job is, and I need to get back.”
“Don’t you want to stay with my dad?”
“I’d love to stay with both of you, but I can’t. I don’t live here.”
He thought about that for a while. “Do you think my dad will take me to visit you at your house sometime?”
“Oh man, I sure hope so. You’d love it there. And you know what? We have horses you can ride. Do you think you’d like that?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I’ve never seen a horse close up before. Do you have dogs?”
“Not at the moment. Do you like dogs?”
“Yeah. But Anthony never let me have one, even when Mom asked him.”
“Maybe your dad will consider a dog.”
He looked at her solemnly, then peeked over
his shoulder at the kitchen. “What do I call him?” he whispered.
Libby frowned. “What? Call who?”
“Him. My dad. Ryan. What do I call him?”
“Ah, I see what you’re asking,” she said. “What do you want to call him? Do you want to call him Dad?”
He shrugged. “I guess. If he wants me to.”
“Oh, trust me, Hank, he’d like that very much. But if you aren’t comfortable with that yet, you can call him Ryan. Just like you call me Libby.”
“I don’t mind calling him Dad. If it won’t make him mad.”
“Why do you think it would make him mad?”
“Cuz when people thought Anthony was my dad it made him mad. And he said I should never call him that.”
“But Ryan is your real dad, Hank, and he’s very, very proud of you, and very happy to be your dad. So having you call him Dad would make him feel really good. But it’s up to you.”
Later, when Ryan suggested a bath, Hank readily complied, his reluctance from the previous evening seemingly forgotten. Another good sign that he was feeling more comfortable with his new situation. Ryan got the water ready, then waited out in the hall while Hank washed and dried and got his pajamas on.
Libby had a hard time blinking back her tears when the sweet smelling boy came back to the living room to say good night and goodbye. He let her hug him long and hard, and then Ryan went with him to his bedroom to read a story and tuck him in. Libby’s strong feelings for the boy only reaffirmed her decision to leave early. Hank was rapidly stealing her heart—something he had in common with his father. She needed to get back to North Dakota before she lost her it altogether.
Figuring Ryan would be a while, Libby opened her computer and started going through her emails. But the bedtime reading session was much shorter this time, and he soon returned. She looked up when he dropped onto the couch beside her.
“That was fast,” she commented.
“We finished the dragon saga last night, so he was okay with choosing a shorter story this time. But he’s exhausted. His eyes started to droop after only a few pages, so I told him the rest could wait until tomorrow.”
