But for now, she needed to be a good hostess and get the meal on the table and Alex out of there. “Isaiah, can you grab some clean napkins and set the silverware for me?”
He got up without complaining and came to grab the needed items. She appreciated his help, but wished he was less compliant. Wished he would grumble about chores like a typical kid might do, but he was worried that if he didn’t act like the perfect child, she might not keep him. She’d told him over and over that no matter what he would always be with her, but he hadn’t gotten to the point of embracing it yet, and she had no idea how to change his feelings.
A knock sounded on the door, and she jumped, dropping the ladle in the crock and splashing hot liquid on her hand. She jerked back and rushed to the sink to run it under cold water.
Alex got to his feet. “You okay?”
“Just clumsy.” She offered him a tight smile.
He had to know the reason she’d burned her hand, but thankfully kept it to himself as Isaiah was watching them.
“That will be Sam,” he said. “Want me to let her in?”
“Please.” She started carrying the bowls to the table and on a return trip, she stopped to greet Sam.
She was slender and an inch or so taller than Whitney’s five nine. She tugged off a stocking cap revealing blond hair that fell out and cascaded to just below her shoulders. She had brilliant blue eyes and was in a word—beautiful.
Sam took off her gloves and shoved them into her jacket pocket. Alex took her jacket and hung it on one of the hooks by the door. It felt natural to have him do so, but also wrong, like it established a personal connection that Whitney didn’t want to create.
He turned to Whitney. “Whitney, meet Samantha Willis.”
“It’s Sam.” She smiled and held out her hand.
Whitney shook hands, not surprised that Sam’s was chilly. She introduced Sam to the children.
“Nice to meet you, Isaiah.” Sam shook hands with him, and he seemed surprised to be treated like an adult. She smiled at Zoey. “I like your pigtails, Zoey.”
She looked up from the book on her lap. “Me too.”
“Dinner’s almost ready,” Whitney said. “If you want to take a seat at the table.”
“Can I help?”
Whitney shook her head. “I just need to cut the bread and get the rest of the stew on the table.”
“I’ll do the stew,” Alex offered, and before she could object, he stepped into the small kitchen, an even bigger invasion of her personal space.
She waited for him to exit with a set of bowls before going to the cooling rack and placing the bread on a cutting board for slicing. He came back for the last bowls. She inched closer to the counter as he slipped behind her, and still he brushed against her setting off all kinds of senses. Her hand slipped on the knife, and she knocked her finger.
“Ouch.” The word came out involuntarily when she hated to draw attention to her dumb mistake.
“You cut yourself.” He set down the bowls and took her hand.
“It’s nothing.” She pulled it back.
He eyed her for a moment, then shrugged and carried the last bowls to the table. He must think she was the biggest klutz ever. She wrapped a paper towel around her finger to stem the bleeding, then took the bread to the table.
It hit her then that they didn’t have enough chairs for everyone. She lifted Zoey’s booster seat from one of the chairs and set it aside. “Dinnertime, Zoey. You’ll have to sit on my lap.”
She toddled into the room and stood looking up at Alex. “Want to sit on your lap.”
“No!” Isaiah shouted, shocking Whitney. “You can sit with me.”
He picked her up and plopped down on a chair, settling the struggling Zoey on his lap.
“Want him.” She kept squirming to get free.
“You can sit with me,” Isaiah insisted.
“No.” Zoey’s lower lip popped out.
“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” Alex held out his arms, and she grabbed onto him.
Isaiah fired Alex a testy look then pushed away from the table and stomped to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.
“Sorry about that,” Whitney said, but honestly, she was glad to see Isaiah show some emotion for once.
“I’ll be right back.” She started for the door.
“Can I weigh in before you talk to him?” Alex asked.
Really? What could he have to offer on this topic? She looked over her shoulder at him. He seemed very sincere, and she didn’t want to be rude. “I guess.”
“Not that I have any idea how to parent a child, especially one who has recently lost their parents, but…” he rubbed a hand over his jaw, “my mom died when I was eleven…so I totally get what he’s feeling. Back then, I wouldn’t have wanted you to come talk to me until I cooled down.”
Whitney stopped, slowly turning back. “Your mom died when you were eleven?”
Sam looked startled, too.
“Yes.” He shoved his fingers through his hair. “I was so angry at times, but I didn’t want everyone else to see it. They were already suffering, and I thought it would upset them more if I got mad. I just kept it all bottled up inside me. Until…I couldn’t.” He looked at Whitney and tipped his head toward the bedroom door. “Let him blow off the steam. Then talk to him. Or I’ll even talk to him if you want. Tell him about how I felt.”
Wow. This wasn’t what she expected at all. This guy had a sincerity and depth to him that she would have never guessed—and deeply appreciated. He was being very generous to offer to talk to a sulky nine-year-old. Plus, she honestly didn’t know what Isaiah was going through or how to help him. But Alex knew.
She came back to the table and sat. “I truly would appreciate it if you would talk to him.”
“All right. Let’s give him a little time first.”
“You’re a good man, Alex Hamilton,” Sam said with conviction.
Whitney agreed and bit her tongue to stop all the burning questions she had from pouring out. It wasn’t her place to ask for more details, but she seriously wanted to know more. She picked up the bread plate and passed it to Sam.
“Thank you. This all looks so good.” Sam took a piece and handed the plate to Alex.
Zoey grabbed a slice and chomped off a bite.
“Remember we pray first,” Whitney said to her niece and glanced between Sam and Alex. “Do you mind if we pray?”
Alex shook his head. “It’s routine for both of us.”
So he was a Christian, too.
Seriously, God, you’ve got to stop showing me this guy’s strengths. How about a fault or two so he’s easier to resist?
She took Sam’s hand, and instead of taking Alex’s, she grabbed Zoey’s free hand. Alex’s long fingers wrapped around Zoey’s tiny hand—still holding the bread—and joined his other hand with Sam’s. Whitney didn’t know what he was thinking, but her actions had obviously caused a reaction.
She bowed her head and offered thanks for the food and added a prayer for Sam and Alex to accomplish their mission. She finally asked for healing for Isaiah’s wounded heart and had to fight to keep her voice from breaking.
She released hands and took a long cleansing breath before looking up. “Zoey, you can sit in Isaiah’s chair until he comes back.”
“Don’t want to.” She bit off another bite of her bread.
“Sorry,” Whitney said to Alex.
“No worries.” He reached around her to butter his slice. “My sister, Faith, is seven years younger than me. After my mom died, I had a big part in raising her, so I know how to eat with a kid on my lap.”
Sam took a bite of the stew and moaned. “This is perfect on such a cold day.”
Whitney smiled at Sam who seemed like such an open and friendly woman. “Thank you.”
Whitney dug into her stew and the meal passed with pleasant, yet generic conversation. Alex did a great job of helping Zoey eat her stew, but she still had gravy-covered hands that
found their way to Alex’s sleeves.
Whitney got up to take Zoey and offered him an apologetic look.
“You should see what we often get into. This isn’t a big deal.” He smiled up at her. A wide, even smile, and she had to consciously think to breathe.
She hadn’t expected that. Hadn’t expected the intensity of her response to his smile. She gained her composure. “I’m going to go ahead and bathe her if you don’t mind being on your own for a while.”
“We’re good,” Alex said, that smile coming back wider and sending her heart tripping faster.
She nodded and hurried away, her mind a jumbled mess. She wanted his protection for the kids. For herself, too. But having him around her all day? Was that such a good idea?
She could end up head over heels for him before she could blink. Since she’d sworn off all men, that could only mean one thing for her.
A world of hurt.
“Wow.” Sam sat back in her chair and eyed Alex as the bedroom door closed. “You two have progressed a long way in little more than a day.”
Alex clearly knew she meant there was chemistry between him and Whitney that no one could miss, but he didn’t have to acknowledge it. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Sam rolled her eyes. “I get it. None of my business. I know when to keep my mouth shut.”
“See that’s what I like best about you, Sam.” He laughed.
She punched him good-naturedly. “Before Isaiah comes back I need to tell you a guy came to the tent before I left. A Brandon Everett. He’s a PPB officer, and he’s up here with two fellow officers on a vacation. He offered their help. I don’t know him or the other guys, but it would be good to have some assistance.”
“Interesting.” Brandon and his crew could be the answer Alex was seeking. “I’ve scheduled a conference call with the team tonight. Since Riley’s a former PPB officer maybe he knows them or we can have Eryn check them out.”
He quickly explained Whitney’s situation.
Sam blinked a few times. “Wow. I mean…wow! I had no idea.”
“She doesn’t want us discussing it outside the team.”
Sam nodded. “What are you going to do about it?”
“At the moment, I’m thinking if this Brandon guy and the others check out, we can move Whitney and the kids to our suite and have an officer stand duty when I have to leave the room.”
Sam sat quietly, her thoughts racing across her face, but she didn’t speak.
He needed to know what she was thinking. “Go ahead and say whatever you’re thinking. I can take it.”
“Okay. You asked for it.” She leaned closer. “Do you want to move them to our suite because you think this Percy guy knows about her apartment but wouldn’t think to look in our suite or…” she locked gazes, “you just want her close?”
“Yes,” he said firmly, not bothering to deny his interest in Whitney right now, but tonight on the video call, he’d have to find a way to hide it from Gage. “They can have my room, and I’ll bunk on the sofa. That is, if it’s okay with you.”
She relaxed back. “Sounds like a plan to me.”
The bedroom door opened, and Isaiah slowly stepped out. Alex wasn’t sure of the best way to break the ice, but food was always a good topic for a growing boy. “Want me to reheat your stew and you can join us?”
“I can do it.” Isaiah took his bowl to the microwave.
Now would be a perfect time to have that talk with Isaiah. Alex signaled for Sam to take off.
She stood. “I need to check in with Yuki.”
“I never got around to asking her if she saw anything today,” Alex said, trying to be cryptic to keep Isaiah from worrying. “Mind handling that when you see her?”
“Glad to.” She looked at Isaiah. “Nice to meet you, Isaiah. Tell Whitney thanks for the dinner.”
“Yeah,” he said flatly.
Sam gave Alex a good luck look, and after slipping into her coat and hat, took off. Alex got up to turn the deadbolt behind her and sat back down.
When Isaiah took his chair, Alex grabbed another piece of the amazing rosemary bread and chewed while the kid ate. Alex didn’t want to broach the subject of his loss before getting some food in the boy’s belly.
“You into sports?” Alex asked.
“Soccer,” Isaiah replied around a bite of stew.
“Me too. I’m into skiing, too. Hang gliding. Scuba diving. Parasailing. You name it, I like it.”
Isaiah flashed a look of approval. “My mom woulda never let me do any of those things.”
“Mine, either,” Alex said, thinking this was his opening he needed.
“You’re a grown-up. You don’t have to listen to your mom.”
“I meant when I was your age. She didn’t even like me playing soccer. She worried a lot.”
“My mom was cool with soccer.” He frowned and stabbed his fork into a potato dripping with rich brown gravy. “I don’t know what Aunt Whitney will say.”
“It’s hard, right? Suddenly having a new person in charge of you.”
He jutted out his chin in challenge. “Like you would have any idea.”
It was painful to see such a skeptical expression and tone in a boy so young, but Alex likely had the same look when his mom took her life. Maybe even worse because she chose to leave. “My mom died when I was eleven, so I totally know what you’re going through.”
Isaiah paused, fork midair. “Really?”
Alex nodded.
He sat quietly for a minute then set down his fork. “Was it sudden? You know…like my mom?”
Alex nodded again, the memory of finding his mother lying on the floor in her bedroom, the empty pill bottle at her side came rushing back, and he had to clear his throat to keep the tears at bay even at this age. “She swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills.”
Isaiah’s eyes widened. “Like did it on purpose?”
Alex nodded again. “She suffered from depression. Do you know what that is?”
“Being sad.”
“Yeah, except it’s not like when we get sad. It’s far deeper, and the person can’t see a way out of it.” Alex paused to keep his emotions under control. “She just couldn’t go on living like that.”
“Did you live with your dad then?”
Alex shook his head. “He was this big-time company executive and didn’t have time for me. So I went to live with my aunt like you.”
“Was is it really hard at first?” Isaiah asked, his voice trembling and tears sparkling in his eyes.
“Yeah, but here’s the thing.” Alex moved closer and thought about resting his hand on the kid’s. No, that was too much. “It gets better, and the sooner you accept the change, the easier it will be. I was like angry all the time. Especially at God.”
He nodded like a sage old man. “Me, too.”
“And I was sad. Real sad. Felt like crying a lot.”
“Did you?” He peeked up out from under his eyelashes as if embarrassed to ask the question. “Cry, I mean?”
“Yeah, at her funeral, but after that only in my room. And I never let anyone see it because I was embarrassed. But there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Even grown men cry.”
Isaiah studied Alex so intently he felt like squirming under the kid’s penetrating focus.
“Seems like you got over it.”
Alex wished he could make this part easier for Isaiah, but he couldn’t. “I’m not going to lie to you. You never totally get over it, but that’s okay. If you did, you wouldn’t be keeping a part of your mom with you, and it’s good to remember her.”
Isaiah’s nod was less convincing this time.
“Plus, here’s the thing. Your mom wouldn’t want you to be sad, so it’s okay to smile and laugh and have fun. I know it feels like you’re betraying her, but you’re not. Honestly.”
Isaiah crossed his arms and fell back in chair. “I don’t want to smile or laugh.”
“I know, bud. I get it. But you will. Trust me
. You will.”
He started shaking his leg, frantically, looking lost and so very alone. “And my dad? What do I do about him?”
That Alex felt far less qualified to weigh in on, but he’d try anything to help this boy. “See here’s the thing. My dad wasn’t in jail, but he was always gone, so it was kind of the same. I hardly ever saw him. I’m thinking I had similar feelings about him. Was maybe even madder because he chose not to be with me. But I finally got tired of being mad all the time and decided that no matter what, I was going to go on. It wasn’t easy and it took time, but I did.”
Well mostly, anyway.
The bedroom door opened, signaling for Alex to wrap this up. He rested his hand on Isaiah’s shoulder. “If you feel like talking more, I’ll make sure Whitney has my cell number and you can call me. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.” Isaiah sat forward and started eating again.
Alex turned to the door to watch Whitney step out. Her face was glistening and her hair was at odd angles where she’d pushed it off her rosy face. Her shirt was wet, and she looked a bit defeated.
She met his gaze and shook her head. “Bathing a three-year-old should be an Olympic sport.”
“You do look like you’ve just earned a gold medal, doesn’t she, Isaiah?”
The boy looked at her, and a hint of smile turned up the corner of his mouth before he whisked it away.
Alex got up. “Let me clear the table and do the dishes while you relax a bit.”
Whitney looked like she was going to say no, but then a firm resolve tightened her face. “We can do it together.”
A huge step, he thought, when she’d been keeping her distance as much as possible.
In the kitchen he stepped close to her and lowered his voice. “What time does Isaiah go to bed?”
Her eyes darkened in worry like a cornered animal. Did she think he was coming on to her in front of her nephew? Seriously?
“I want to have that conference call but might as well do it from here where I can keep an eye out for all of you.”
Cold Pursuit Page 8
