Ryan came barreling in the door before Max. He ran to Tessa, grinning from ear to ear. "Dad asked me what I want to do for my birthday. Can we go camping?"
Tessa glanced at Max. "Camping? That sounds like a great idea. If I'd known, I would have brought my tent and sleeping bag."
"You have a tent?"
Smiling, she crouched down to his level. "Sometimes there aren't any hotels in the places I go. Do you have camping gear?"
"Sure. Got it for the Cub Scouts, didn't we, Dad? But I haven't used it outside yet. Just on the floor in the living room. Oh, boy! This is gonna be a great birthday."
"It's not a problem for you to stay until Monday?" Max asked.
The frustration she'd seen smoldering in his eyes at the school had diminished, but she didn't want to suggest she stay longer with Ryan in the room, especially after what Max had said. "No, it's not a problem." Tessa took the roast from the oven and placed it on top of the stove. When she removed the lid, the aroma filled the kitchen.
Max and Ryan exchanged a surprised look. Ryan said, "It smells better than Mrs. Clark's."
Tessa shrugged. "It's just a roast rubbed with spices. I've never made gravy, but I guess we can try."
Max cleared his throat. "I didn't know you could cook. Except for pancakes."
"I never said I couldn't. I just don't do it very much. But I can read. I also learned a few things from Leslie's mother. So if you have a carving knife—"
Max opened a drawer just as there was a rap on the door.
Tessa answered it. Flo stood there with her left arm in a sling, a basket holding the most delicious looking apple pie Tessa had ever seen sitting at her feet. "This is for you, dear. I couldn't hold the basket and ring the bell at the same time."
Tessa lifted the basket and took an appreciative whiff. "This looks and smells wonderful."
"Just a small thank you for taking me to the hospital."
"The hospital?" Max opened the door wider for Flo to step inside.
"I fell," Flo explained. "I saw Tessa in and out with grocery bags this morning, so I called her." The older woman turned back to Tessa. "I hope you weren't too late for your appointment."
"Not too late." Tessa rushed on. "I thought you made your pies for the bake sale."
"I made six. They won't miss one. You enjoy it."
"Shouldn't you be resting? Is your daughter with you?"
"She's waiting for me to come back. Probably standing on the porch watching. She called me a stubborn old woman before I left. I won't admit it, of course. It's the old I'm afraid of. That's why I wanted to go to the hospital. But nothing's broken. I just have to wear the sling a few days. You enjoy the pie." She winked. "It's even better with vanilla ice cream on top."
After Flo thanked Tessa again, she waved and left. Max and Tessa watched until they were sure Flo had safely reached her porch.
Then Max said to Ryan, "Why don't you put your books in your room and get ready for supper. We'll talk about what we need for the camping trip while we eat."
Ryan grinned and took his backpack upstairs.
Max lifted the pie out of the basket and placed it on the counter. "First of all, I want to thank you for dinner. I was going to throw a meat loaf together when I got home."
Tessa closed the door and her heart beat faster without her knowing exactly why. "Ryan said something yesterday about being sick of meat loaf."
After shrugging out of his suit coat, Max hung it over the back of a chair. His lopsided smile warmed her heart. "I guess he didn't want to hurt my feelings." He paused for a moment. "And I never meant to hurt yours. I'm sorry about what I said in the parking lot. I was out of line."
"You think you know me, Max, but you don't."
"I know you left when I asked you to stay."
"I had to."
"So you said." He exhaled slowly. "But that's water under the bridge." He motioned to the table and the pie. "Why didn't you tell me about Flo?"
"Did you give me the chance?"
"Maybe not when you arrived, but afterward you could have."
Max's nearness in the small kitchen was almost as disturbing as his guarded gaze. "You honestly thought I might not show up?" she asked, needing to know.
His silence told her that was exactly what he thought. A misunderstanding was one thing, but his lack of faith in her was another. She felt tears threaten. Blast it. She never cried. Not ever. Why did he have the power to bring up this emotion in her? No one else did.
His eyes darkened to tobacco brown. "You come and go as you please, Tessa. I know you're not used to restrictions or responsibilities."
She planted her hands on her hips, filled with building annoyance because he presumed to judge her. "Do you know of any time I ever let Leslie down? Or you or Ryan?"
"She wished you would e-mail and call more."
"Specifically," Tessa challenged.
"You were late for Ryan's christening."
Her hand sailed through the air. "For heaven's sake, my plane was delayed. What was I supposed to do? Flap my wings and forget the jet?"
Max's voice lowered in response to hers rising. "You could have come in the day before."
"I had an assignment to finish."
He opened the top button of his shirt and tugged down his tie. "That's what I mean about priorities."
"And you don't make teaching a priority?" she demanded. Max's attitude over the years, his non-approval, had been a thorn in her side. It was about time she removed it. She no longer had to worry about hurting Leslie's feelings. She could go one-on-one with him, no holds barred.
"I'll bet you that apple pie that you go in to school early and you certainly don't leave before you're finished. Just because I seem to control my own hours and I can choose assignments, you think I have a schedule I can adjust at will. I have personal deadlines. I have editorial deadlines. When I have a taping schedule, I usually can't control that. If I don't turn assignments in on time, if I'm not where I'm supposed to be when I'm supposed to be there, I won't get more work. I'm not taking a joy ride, Max. I work, just like you."
The silence in the kitchen was magnified by her stillness, his probing regard. He canvassed her face, her defensive stance. "Maybe I do tend to look at your job as...erratic and even sometimes reckless. We've never really talked about it. One of the best interviews I saw of yours was over a year ago," he said. "The one you did with that woman who's sister disappeared."
"Emma Henderson. A friend of mine who's a producer arranged that since I had a short layover in L.A before I taped the cable special about Afghanistan."
"That was an informative special."
"You watched?"
"I did."
She and Max hadn't talked much at all in the past nine years. Not about anything that mattered. Even when Leslie was sick, they'd stuck to Leslie's condition and subjects that hadn't caused controversy.
Thinking about everything Mrs. Bartlett had told them, Tessa asked, "Max, would you like me to stay longer than a week? There's no reason I can't stay a few weeks if it will help Ryan. There's an Economic Summit in Oslo the week before Thanksgiving I have to attend. I've hired out to a cable network. But until then, if it will help, I'll stay."
"You'd do that?"
"Yes. I can find a room somewhere—"
He raised a hand to interrupt her. "No. You can stay here."
"You're sure you don't mind?"
"How can I mind? You're helping my son. Did you see that grin when you said you'd go camping? I haven't seen him this excited in a long while."
Max was happy for Ryan's sake. That didn't make her feel especially welcome, as if Max wanted her, too. The question was—why did she care? She went to the counter and picked up the dish of potatoes. "We'd better eat before this gets cold."
Max didn't lift the knife to carve the meat. Instead, he tilted his head, his dark brown hair reflecting gleams from the overhead light, and gazed at Tessa speculatively. "It was nice of you to help Flo."
/> "I wasn't being nice."
A trace of a smile curved his lips. "What were you being?"
He was trying to see into her heart, maybe into her soul. She felt vulnerable and didn't like it. "Flo needed help. I helped. Period."
Max leaned forward and gently brushed a curl away from her cheek. The pad of his thumb across her skin created a squall of emotion inside her as he said, "One tough lady." He didn't say it as if he believed it.
His touch was mesmerizing and although Tessa knew she should back away, at least move, she couldn't.
"I am sorry, Tessa. I'm sorry I misjudged you. I'm sorry I brought up...the past." He motioned across the kitchen. "And I promise for all your effort and agreeing to camp out for the weekend, we'll go to a nice restaurant some time next week."
She wanted to rest her cheek against his shoulder, wanted to feel his arms around her. The wanting was wrong, though. Getting too close to Max was wrong. Somehow the differences that had always been between them felt more comfortable than this tentative understanding.
She leaned away from his touch and his understanding. "You don't think I'm going to cook every night, do you?"
"Aren't you?" he teased.
"No way. I'll cook when I can, but don't expect it to become a habit."
"I wouldn't expect that." His grin was as boyish and appealing as she'd ever seen it.
But Tessa had a sobering thought. He had expected it from Leslie. Every time he looked at Tessa, she wondered if he was comparing her to her best friend. She didn't like the idea. She didn't like it at all.
Chapter Three
"Look, Dad. Tessa has her tent ready," Ryan called to Max as they set up camp Friday evening.
Max had to smile because his son was thoroughly enjoying his birthday trip and it had hardly started.
Tessa had agreed with Max that they should drive to the state park tonight so they'd have a full day tomorrow. They'd left right after school. The evening air had turned cool as the sun had dipped behind the tree line.
"Ryan, why don't you and I go gather wood for the campfire while your dad finishes with your tent," Tessa suggested as she watched Max hammer in the next to the last stake.
"I'll go. You don't know what might be roaming around," he protested, feeling protective of Tessa though he was sure she wouldn't want his protection.
He was right because she pulled her sweatshirt sleeves down to her wrists and gave him one of her defiant looks. "Nothing very big, Max. This isn't grizzly territory."
"It's still better if I go. Maybe you and Ryan can finish the tent? If you get a chance, you can bring the air mattresses from the van." There were two. Max knew she'd probably argue with him about who should use those, too.
"Any more orders?" She gave him a sassy grin.
He shook his head. "Just don't collapse the tent while I'm gone."
She wrinkled her nose at him.
Ryan sidled up beside Max. "You won't get lost, will you?"
"No, pal. I have a good sense of direction. By the time you and Tessa get the tents ready for sleeping, I'll be back."
As Max collected wood, he thought about the past few days. For the most part, Tessa had avoided him. He wasn't sure why. He also wasn't sure why that bothered him or why he was noticing the red highlights in her hair or the vulnerability in her green eyes that she tried so hard to hide. There was something he needed to talk to her about since she was staying, and he didn't know how she'd take it. But Ryan's safety came first and that's what he had to address.
When Max returned to the campsite, his arms full of dry tree branches and kindling, he laid the makings of a fire in the stone circle and lit it. Tessa and Ryan stood nearby and watched until he said to Ryan, "The forks for the hot dogs are in the back of the van next to the fishing rods. Can you get them?"
As Ryan took off, Max poked at a log, then straightened. "Tessa, since you're staying, I wish you'd think before you make suggestions concerning Ryan. With darkness falling, I didn't want him in the woods."
"But he would have been with me."
"That doesn't matter." He had to set up ground rules, didn't he? That's what a good parent did. Maybe Tessa was responsible. But she was used to just thinking about herself, not about a child who needed to be watched over and protected.
"It should matter. I've set up camp in the desert. Have you?"
"No. And it's not on my agenda for this year." He'd meant to give the discussion a little levity, but it didn't work.
Instead, she took a few steps away from him. "You don't trust me with him, do you?"
He tried to be as gentle as he could. "I'm not suggesting you don't love him or care about his welfare. But you might not be as cautious as a parent would be."
"Maybe he senses your caution and feels smothered."
He studied her. "Are you giving me advice on how to raise my son?"
She stuffed her hands in her jeans pockets. "I'm suggesting you give him some room to breathe. Holding on too tight is almost as bad as not holding on at all."
"Is this it?" Ryan shouted as he held up a long fork, shining a flashlight on it.
"There are two of them," Max called back.
When he turned back to Tessa, she was on her way to the van, saying, "I'll get our jackets. It's getting chilly."
Max swore as she walked away. No matter how he tried to handle her, he botched it. He didn't know what bothered him most about Tessa. That she didn't need his help, or that he wished she did. She was more than capable at whatever she tried. Leslie had looked to him for advice, for support—physical and emotional. Even when he'd dated Tessa, she hadn't looked to him for...anything. He tossed a few branches into the fire, not knowing why he was even making the comparison, not knowing why Tessa's reactions should be a concern. She wouldn't be staying that long.
Tessa helped Ryan with his jacket, zipping it up to his chin. She was never anything but nurturing with Ryan. And that was the side of her Max didn't understand. She related so well to Ryan, as if some part of her was still that little child. Was she the independent career woman who needed no one? Or was she pretending she never needed anyone as some kind of defense mechanism? That was definitely food for thought.
After supper, Max sat back in his lawn chair, his feet propped along the stone ring on the side of the fire that burned low. Tessa and Ryan laughed as golden brown marshmallows, toasted for dessert, collapsed in their mouths. The white gooey insides lined Tessa's upper lip.
Max suddenly had the urge to lean forward and wipe it away. Like he'd done impulsively with the pizza cheese. But something told him that tonight, touching her wasn't a good idea.
He did hand her a napkin. "Need this?"
"Not as much as I need a bath." She waved her sticky fingers and, with a mischievous smile, tapped his right cheek with one of them.
"Looks great, Dad," Ryan said of the white blob on his cheek.
Max grabbed Tessa's wrist as she went for his other cheek. "Are you asking for trouble?"
Her grin was impish. "I thought you'd want a matched set."
When her wrist felt fragile under his fingers, so opposed to the tough facade she projected, he released her. "I want you to act like an adult."
"Does that mean we can't have fun?" she asked with a twinkle in her eye but a serious note in her voice.
"Maybe I've forgotten how to have fun," he murmured to himself.
"You have another marshmallow on your fork, Ryan. Bring it here," she directed.
"Tessa..." Max warned, though something inside him came alive with her daring.
Ryan gleefully brought her the fork, careful not to let the marshmallow fall off, while Tessa eyed Max. "You think this is so easy. We want to see you pop that whole marshmallow into your mouth without getting messy."
Max noticed the grin on Ryan's face, the challenge in Tessa's gaze, and he decided making a fool of himself might have a little merit.
Tessa took the white blob from the fork, holding it between her thumb and foref
inger. "Open up."
"I never could resist a dare," he mumbled, opening his mouth.
She popped the treat in. His lips felt her fingers' softness and he almost forgot about the marshmallow. Almost.
Reminding himself this was just a game, he licked his lips and held out his hands. "See? No mess. I'll have to give the two of you lessons."
Tessa's cheeks looked flushed. But that could be the result of the cool night air or the fire. She sat back, picked up the bag of marshmallows and offered them to him. "Your mouth is bigger than ours. Want another one?"
He laughed and swiped at his sticky cheek with his napkin. "I think we've all had enough sugar for one night. Let's get ready for bed, slugger. We have a lot planned for tomorrow."
"You're going to fish, too, aren't you, Tessa?" Ryan asked.
"Sure am. Unless you dump the boat."
The idea of Tessa wet, her clothes molded to her, quickened Max's heart rate. Why was this happening now? After all these years? He wasn't even sure what "this" was. He'd just have to be careful to keep that boat very steady.
After Ryan went into the tent to get ready for bed, Tessa picked up a long stick so she could stir the ashes while Max doused the smoldering embers. His flashlight sat on the picnic table with the beam directed toward them so they could see. He poured water from a five gallon tank he'd filled after they'd arrived and gave her a nod.
Tessa stirred the ashes and wondered what she'd been thinking of earlier when she spotted Max's cheek with marshmallow. It had been a spontaneous act, as automatic as typing on her laptop. He just looked so serious sometimes. Did he still miss Leslie with the same aching grief? Hers had subsided somewhat. Time had helped. Now she remembered the good times much more often than the sadness of Leslie's cancer and her year of treatment.
Max doused the ashes again. "That should do it. Do you have a flashlight to take into your tent?" he asked, setting the water carrier on the picnic bench and capping the nozzle.
Heartfire Page 3
