For Love and Family

by Victoria Pade

  “Now we get marshmallows!” Johnny announced when they’d finished the main course. “And I can cook everybody’s on one stick!”

  “Go to it,” Hunter allowed.

  Johnny stabbed three of the fluffy confections on a single stick, while Terese and Hunter sat back and watched. When the marshmallows were toasty brown, her nephew offered Terese the first one.

  Before she could take it, it fell to the ground.

  “Oh, no!” Johnny lamented as if it were the end of the world.

  Not wanting him to be disappointed, Terese said, “That’s okay,” picked the marshmallow up, blew it off and popped it into her mouth.

  It wasn’t the smartest move she’d ever made. There were still grains of soil stuck to it and she couldn’t help grimacing slightly when she felt and tasted the residual grit.

  Hunter must have caught her expression because she heard him laugh. But Johnny didn’t seem to notice.

  “Isn’t it good?” he asked eagerly.

  “It is,” Terese assured him after she’d choked it down.

  Hunter was sitting on the log that was at a ninety-degree angle to hers and he handed her the bottle of water she’d been drinking, leaning close enough to say, “You could have let that one go and had one of the others.”

  “I wanted the full experience of what nature has to offer,” she lied.

  But he knew better and merely laughed again. Not in a way that made fun of her, though. It was more a laugh that said he was enjoying himself. And so was she. In spite of the gritty marshmallow.

  Her second taste of Johnny’s cooking was an improvement over the first, but after that she’d had enough. Two marshmallows were Hunter’s limit as well, but Johnny was a bottomless pit when it came to the sweets. He would have gone on toasting and eating marshmallows until the bag was empty except that his father stopped him at six.

  Even so, between the hot chocolate and the marshmallows, the little boy was full of sugar-induced energy that left him unable to sit still once his marshmallow roasting was over, and he turned to jumping off the logs his father and Terese were using as seats.

  “How about skipping some rocks in the pond?” Hunter suggested to divert him. “It looks different in the moonlight than it does in the day.”

  Throwing rocks apparently had an allure all its own because Johnny didn’t need more than that to inspire him. He set about collecting rocks until he had all his pockets filled with them. Then he went to the edge of the pond.

  “Come and watch, T’rese!” he called to her.

  “We can see you from here,” Hunter called back before Terese could comply.

  She didn’t mind that he’d gotten her out of it, though. She liked sitting there by the fire.

  With him.

  She didn’t want to think too much about that.

  Besides, he was right; they could see Johnny from where they were.

  After watching and complimenting a few of Johnny’s tosses, Terese thought she could also take the opportunity to satisfy a bit of curiosity about what her nephew had said earlier in regard to Hunter going to Europe.

  “So you have a trip planned?” she asked, glancing from son back to father.

  Hunter slid from his log to sit on the ground and lean his back against it instead, bracing his elbows there, too, and stretching his legs out in front of her to avoid the fire.

  “I did have,” he said. “I was all set to go this coming Saturday, as a matter of fact.”

  “But now you aren’t going?”

  “I’m thinkin’ no,” he said quietly, watching his son and frowning slightly.

  “Because of Johnny’s health condition?” Terese guessed.

  Hunter nodded slowly. “I was going to leave him with Willy and Carla. They think of him as their own and I’ve never worried about him when he’s with them. But now… Well, what if he falls or something—the way he did last week—and starts bleeding and I’m halfway around the world?”

  Terese could tell he hadn’t been joking when he’d said the discovery of Johnny’s hemophilia had shaken him.

  “Was Johnny right about the trip being important?” she asked.

  “Not as important as Johnny. Nothing is that important.”

  “No, of course not,” she agreed. “But even if the trip isn’t as important as Johnny is, if it was important enough to make before, isn’t is still important now?”

  Hunter raised his eyebrows to concede that. “Sure.”

  “You were going to improve your stock? Or herd? Or whatever you call it?”

  “Either would be right. And yes, that was the idea. There are some new breeds over there that look promising and I wanted to take a look at them, maybe negotiate for a bull. Northwest winters are nothing to sneeze at and anything I can do to make my herd stronger can help get more animals through the snowy months. Plus bigger cows translate to bigger profits at market. The trip and making a buy are things I’ve been saving for for about two years.”

  “And you’d cancel the trip when you’re just about to make it?”

  Hunter merely looked out at his son again, as if that were answer enough.

  “What if Johnny were with me?” she said as another thought occurred to her.

  The rancher looked back at her, his face gilded by the fire’s glow, throwing into greater relief the sharp handsomeness of his features. “What if he were with you?” he repeated.

  “I’m just kind of throwing this out there, but, well, I’m already here. What if I stayed and took care of him? Would it make you feel better knowing that his constant companion was his own private blood bank?”

  That morsel of levity made Hunter smile. “We’re talking about a two-week trip,” he said as if he thought that would change her mind.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “I told you I’m on sabbatical and my time is my own. It isn’t as if I couldn’t stay that long.”

  Hunter watched his son flinging rocks into the pond again. “I don’t know…”

  “Why don’t you think about it?” Terese urged. “If it would make you feel better, you could still have Willy and Carla looking after him, too. Then he’d have three baby-sitters instead of two, and one of them could give him a refill if he needed it.”

  “You wouldn’t care if Willy and Carla were still in on it?”

  “No, not at all. I’d still get to spend time with Johnny and that’s the only thing I’m interested in.”

  Actually, the more she thought about it, the more she liked the idea of anything that extended her time with her nephew. She’d come to the ranch knowing that she would likely overstay her welcome in a few days and worrying that that would be all she’d ever have with him. Now this seemed to give her an excuse to stay the full week and then have two extra weeks with him on top of it.

  “Seriously,” she said. “I’d like to do it and you wouldn’t have to miss a trip that’s been two years in the making. Think it over.”

  “I just might,” he said, as if the longer he mulled the idea the more he really was considering it.

  Johnny ran out of rocks then, and both Terese’s attention and Hunter’s were drawn back to him when he knelt down on the very edge of the pond to run his finger in the water and make motorboat sounds.

  “Hey, get out of there,” Hunter called to him. Then, to Terese he said, “Maybe we’d better take him home before he goes for a swim.”

  Terese nodded and Hunter passed along the news to his son.

  Johnny grumbled and complained but his father insisted he come away from the pond.

  Then Hunter got to his feet and held out his hand to Terese to help her up.

  It was clearly something he did out of reflex because the moment he realized what he’d done, he looked as if he’d surprised himself.

  Certainly he’d surprised Terese with the sudden possibility of physical contact of any kind.

  Before she could respond he pulled his hand back and jammed it into his pocket, mutteri
ng, “Oh, you don’t need my help,” as he turned away from her.

  But still Terese couldn’t keep from thinking about it as she stood and joined Johnny in gathering things while Hunter put out the fire. She couldn’t keep from thinking about the fact that he had been inclined to offer that hand. To make that physical contact. As if it might have been something he’d wanted.

  She couldn’t keep from thinking that if she’d been a little less surprised by it and a little quicker, she could have taken his hand. She could have felt it close around her own. She could have felt the warmth of it. The strength of it. The texture of it.

  And she couldn’t keep from thinking that that would have been really nice.

  In fact, as the three of them piled back in the truck and drove all the way home she couldn’t keep from thinking how nice it would have been.

  Johnny fell so soundly asleep on that drive back that he didn’t wake up even when the truck stopped. While Hunter carried his son up to put him to bed, Terese stayed lost in her “what-if” musings and carried the picnic basket into the kitchen to empty.

  She’d done that when Hunter came downstairs again and by then it was as if the entire thing had never happened.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” he said as she finished cleaning up the remnants of their dinner.

  “I don’t mind,” she assured him. “Did you get Johnny to bed?”

  “He never even opened his eyes. The big crash after the sugar rush.”

  “Combined with a pretty busy day,” Terese added, putting rinsed dishes into the dishwasher and steadfastly not looking at Hunter, who was returning condiments to the refrigerator.

  “He did plenty of showing off for you, that’s for sure.”

  They both finished at the same time and that left no choice but for her to look at him as he stood behind one of the kitchen chairs, clasping the barrel-back with both big hands.

  “It’s all right. I don’t get all that many men showing off for me,” she joked.

  “I don’t know why not,” Hunter countered as their eyes met.

  Terese couldn’t come up with anything to say to that. Especially not while her eyes clung to his and her thoughts were all on that missed opportunity to have felt her hand in his.

  But after a moment it was Hunter who broke the silence.

  “You’re probably about ready to drop from keeping up with the boy since early this morning.”

  Terese wondered if that might be her cue to leave, even though it wasn’t late.

  “I could use a long soak in a bubble bath. And to brush my teeth,” she said pointedly.

  Hunter laughed. “Well, eating that first marshmallow made Johnny’s night, so maybe you can take some comfort in that.”

  “Some,” she agreed.

  There was another silence while Terese fostered a tiny hope that Hunter might ask her to stay awhile longer.

  But when that didn’t happen, she said, “I guess I’ll call it a day, then.”

  “I’ll walk you out to the cabin.”

  “You don’t have to,” Terese said, even though she was hoping he would, anyway.

  Those hopes were met when he let go of the chair and motioned for her to precede him to the mudroom door. “Let a lady walk herself home?” he said as he did. “I can’t do that.”

  Terese led the way out the rear of the house, realizing as she stepped into the night air again that she still had his coat on.

  “Oh, I need to give your coat back, too,” she commented as they headed for the cabin.

  He didn’t remark on that fact, though. Instead he said, “I have to take Johnny into the hospital tomorrow at eleven for a follow-up visit. I had to promise him lunch at one of those kiddie places with arcade games and teenagers dressed up in bear costumes to serve bad pizza. Think you can handle it or would you rather beg off?”

  “After the grimy marshmallow? I can handle anything,” she assured him with a laugh as they reached the cabin and she opened the door.

  “The pizza’s bad but I guarantee there won’t be any dirt on it.”

  “Okay, then,” she said with another laugh.

  She stepped inside the cabin, and since she assumed Hunter wouldn’t come in, she turned around to face him, finding him leaning against the doorjamb, and, as she had at the end of the previous evening, she once again had the sense that they were ending a date, even though she was well aware that they weren’t.

  “I enjoyed the night picnic,” she said as if they were anyway. “Dirty marshmallow and all.”

  Hunter’s topaz eyes were steady on her and he smiled a lazy smile. “I doubt it compared to what you’re used to.”

  “What I’m used to isn’t nearly as much fun,” she told him, wondering why her voice had suddenly taken on a quieter, softer tone.

  “I’ll bet it’s a whole lot more sophisticated when a four-year-old hasn’t arranged it, though.”

  “I wouldn’t have traded eating marshmallows off the ground for anything.”

  “You’re a good sport,” he said in a way that made it one of the best compliments she’d ever received. Particularly because he said it as if it impressed him.

  “Thanks,” she said.

  For another long moment they just stood there, his eyes holding hers, his expression unreadable.

  Then he smiled once more and pushed off the jamb.

  “I’ll let you get to that bubble bath.”

  Terese could hardly tell him that she would rather have stayed there with him, just gazing into the topaz brilliance of his eyes, so she merely said, “Your coat,” and began to slip it off.

  But Hunter was too much of a gentleman to let her do it alone and reached a long arm around her to help. A long arm that brushed her shoulder and set off tiny skitters of something bright and twinkling inside her.

  Something bright and twinkling enough that she couldn’t resist looking up at him again. At his handsome face. Closer to hers now than it had been before since his arm was still a half circle around her.

  Close enough that he could easily have come another few inches and pressed his mouth to hers.

  Especially when her chin tipped upward on its own.

  And his tipped downward…

  But it was only for a split second before he pulled the coat the rest of the way off and straightened up, as if his own actions had surprised him.

  “Breakfast’ll be at eight again,” he informed her slightly tersely, then he turned to go back to the house as if nothing at all had passed between them.

  And maybe nothing had passed between them, Terese thought as she watched him go. Maybe she’d just imagined that brief moment and kissing hadn’t been on his mind the way it had been on hers.

  But she didn’t think she’d only imagined it.

  She hoped she hadn’t only imagined it.

  It just felt so good to think she hadn’t.

  Four

  “Now this is what I like to see!”

  Terese was walking down a corridor of Portland General Hospital the next day with Hunter and Johnny when an older woman and a man about Hunter’s age turned a corner in front of them. The moment the older woman caught sight of Johnny and his father, recognition dawned and her face lit up with a smile.

  “This is definitely what I like to see—Mr. John Coltrane, looking healthy and happy and none-the-worse-for-wear after his adventure last week,” she clarified. Then, after rubbing the top of Johnny’s head, she raised her gaze and said, “Hello, Hunter.”

  “Leslie,” Hunter said warmly in return. And to the man who was with her, he said, “Morgan, good to see you.”

  “Hi,” the man responded simply enough.

  Johnny spotted a fish tank in a waiting area beside them and, apparently assuming the grown-ups were going to chat, he ran off to take a closer look at the fish. His dad said, “Terese, I’d like you to meet Leslie Logan. She’s one of Children’s Connection’s most valuable assets. And Morgan Davis, the agency’s director. Leslie, Morgan, this is
Terese Warwick.”

  “You’re the woman who came to Johnny’s rescue last week,” Leslie Logan said before Hunter had a chance. Then, to explain how she knew that, she added, “The hospital is like a small town. A good story travels fast. Especially when it involves one of our own. And since Hunter adopted Johnny through Children’s Connection that just automatically makes him and Johnny a part of us.”

  “Not to mention,” Morgan put in, “that Hunter has stayed active in the foundation and with PAN.”

  Terese didn’t know what the foundation or PAN were but she didn’t have a chance to do more than smile and say, “Nice to meet you both,” before the older woman spoke to Hunter again, this time with a more serious edge to her voice.

  “You were so lucky that Johnny averted tragedy last week and is doing well.”

  “Don’t I know it,” Hunter agreed.

  “Something happening to your child takes a horrible toll. You know my firstborn, Robbie, was abducted when he was only a little boy and we’ve never seen him again. It changed my husband and me. It changed our marriage. It changed everything. Forever. The loss of a child isn’t something you ever get over. I’m just glad you didn’t have to learn that firsthand.”

  The loss of her child was clearly a pain the older woman still carried with her after what had to have been many years, and Terese felt very sorry for her.

  “I count my blessings every day,” Hunter assured Leslie Logan.

  “But on a happier note,” she said more cheerily, “it seems Morgan and his wife Emma are going to join the ranks of parenthood. They’ve applied with the agency to adopt a baby of their own.”

  “Congratulations,” Terese said to Morgan.

  “Good for you,” Hunter contributed enthusiastically. “Any idea how long it’ll take?”

  “There’ll be some time involved yet. We’ve just started the procedure. Maybe by the start of summer next year, if we’re as lucky as you’ve been.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” Hunter promised.

  “We’d probably better let you get going,” Leslie Logan said then. “You wouldn’t be here with that beautiful boy of yours if you didn’t have a reason and we’re keeping you.”