Part 16 (1/2)

”The bed with the Pooh bear quilt is yours,” she said when the boy hesitatedon the threshold. Sarah had insisted on holding it ready.Ria felt a pang ofguilt at keeping Grady's family at bay. But it was necessary, she remindedherself. Tomorrow, though, she would call her ex-mother-in-law and tell herall about her grandson.

Warning herself not to hover, she ambled over to the window to raise theminiblinds. Suns.h.i.+ne flooded into the room, warming her face. She took atesting sniff, drawing in the mingled scents of musty air and Sarah's homemadepotpourri that invariably greeted her when they arrived. Years of memoriesflooded her senses as she unlatched the window and pushed up the sash. Windfrom the lake beyond the sloping lawn wafted over her, adding a fishy flavorto the mix.

Located on a spit of land guarding a pretty little cove, the white-painted,frame bungalow Mason Hardin had built with his own hands looked out over asandy beach on one side and a deep-water pool on the other.

At the end of a long, white pier she'd helped Grady build one hot, lazysummer sat a sleek maroon-and-white powerboat, bobbing impatiently in theswells. An aluminum fis.h.i.+ng boat covered in canvas had been pulled up on thebeach.

All six of the Hardin kids had learned to swim in the shallow water on the leeward side of the spit, then tested their courage in the dark green depthson the other side. She pictured the legendary four-foot catfish called OldWhiskerface lurking somewhere beneath the wind-ruffled surface that looked soserene in the late-morning suns.h.i.+ne and smiled as she turned.

Jimmy was standing in front of the open closet door, a thoughtful frown playing over his face as he studied a series of marks scribbled onto theyellow paint.

”Your grandma calls that the Hardin family history,” she said when he cast askittish glance her way. ”Every year, on the Fourth of July, Grandma andGrandpa would stand each of their children up against this door and measuretheir heights.”

Encouraged by the tiny kernel of interest that flashed for a moment in theback of his brown eyes, she stepped closer.

”This is Daddy, see?”

She watched his eyes widen as he trailed his gaze upward to the final line,etched there when Grady was eighteen.

”He's a fraction over six-two,” she said, answering the unspoken question inthe light brown eyes. ”I have a feeling you're going to be at least thattall.”

He absorbed that with a thoughtful look. At least he wasn't scowling, shethought as she traced her fingertip downward along the uneven line ofhorizontal marks.

”Let's see, age nine, age eight ... here, age six.” She touched a red line,then turned to measure the top of his s.h.a.ggy head against the marker. ”I thinkyou have Daddy beat, sweetheart.”

Jimmy's face crinkled into the grin that was a little-boy-version of hisdad's-lopsided, dimpled and more than a little c.o.c.ky. Her mother's heart gavea hard thump of joy-and she wanted to shout. Thank heavens for thealways-predictable male ego, she thought on a brilliant burst of hope as shesquatted next to him. He smelled like soap and grape bubble gum.

”This is you at age three.” She touched her nail to a bold green mark aboutthirty inches from the floor. ”You didn't want to stand still long enough forDaddy to measure you, so I bribed you with a gingerbread man.” She smiled. ”Ipacked the ones Grandma Hardin made. Just in case you change your mind aboutnot liking them.”

His eyes lighted. ”The ones with green b.u.t.tons?”

Her heart jolted. He remembered! It was the first crack. A beginning. G.o.dbless Dr. Roth and her brilliant idea.

”No, she only makes green b.u.t.tons for St. Patrick's Day.” She had to swallowthe need to smother him with kisses. ”Were those your favorite? The ... the oneswith the green b.u.t.tons?”

He considered, then darted a glance around the room, as though afraid to beoverheard. ”I don't remember,” he muttered, glancing down at his new sneakers.

Patience,she told herself.Give him time.

”Hey, how about we measure you now?” she suggested in her brightest voice.”We can show Daddy when he comes in?”

”Daddy's already in.”

Startled, she let out a whoosh of surprise and spun around. Grady had a garment bag over one shoulder, her tote on the other and two suitcases in eachhand.

Looking more relaxed than she'd seen him since that heart-stopping momentwhen he'd guided Jimmy across the threshold, he was wearing khaki shorts and ayellow polo s.h.i.+rt she'd bought him years ago, faded now to a soft b.u.t.terycolor. Frequent was.h.i.+ngs had shrunk the material so that the cotton knit wa.s.stretched over his chest, and the tight ribbing of the short sleeves cut intohis biceps. She felt the liquid pull of desire and fought a need to rub upagainst him.

”What are you two up to here?” he demanded in his best street cop tone.”Plotting against Dad already?”

Riacaught the quick, uncertain look Jimmy sent her way and winked. ”I wa.s.showing Jimmy the famous Hardin family history.”

Grady grinned. ”Impressive, isn't it, son?” Jimmy blinked, and for thetiniest instant, she thought she might have seen a gleam in his eyes beforehis mouth turned wary again.

”Lance is alot taller.”

Grady dumped a stack of briefs into the dresser drawer and slammed it shut.”I gotta tell you, honey, I'm getting d.a.m.n tired of hearing about thatb.a.s.t.a.r.d, Lance, and how great he is.”

Riaclosed the suitcase she'd just emptied. ”Jimmy remembered the greenb.u.t.tons on the gingerbread men, Grady. It shook him pretty bad, too, which iswhy I think he said that about Lance as a kind of security blanket.”

His eyes darkened, and a muscle ticked just above the hard knot of tension inhis jaw. ”You think talking about Lance is his security blanket?”

”Yes, that's what I think.”

He sighed, then took her into his arms. ”I think you're one smart lady,Victoria Madison Hardin. Gutsy, too.” He kissed her forehead, then rested hischin on the top of her head. She smelled suns.h.i.+ne on his skin.

”I figure, with your guts and my stubbornness the kid will make it past thisadjustment period in good shape.” She heard him chuckle deep in his throat.”If old Dad's patience holds out.”

”I'd bet on it.” She burrowed closer, needing to lean just a little longer.

”It's d.a.m.n humbling when a guy's only son thinks a frigging drug runner issome kind of hero.” She heard the bleak note in his voice and realized he was hurting. Grady all but wors.h.i.+ped his own father, and she suspected he'd alwayswanted Jimmy to look up to him in the same way.

At three Jimmy had.

”Maybe he hasn't had any other male adult in his life as a comparison,” shesaid, tightening her arms around his solid waist.

Returning to the familiar room where they'd lain together during theirhoneymoon talking about the life they would make for their children had shaken her more than she'd expected.

Her dreams had been so bright then, and they'd been so young and hopeful. Sofull of promises. He would always make her feel special and adored. She wouldfill his life with strong sons and adorable daughters.

Now they were no longer young, no longer full of idealism and impossibledreams. Jimmy would be the only child she would ever give him. Grady had hiswork, she had hers.

He stroked her back with the flat of his big hand, and she felt the tensiondraining away. Little by little she relaxed, letting herself be lulled by hiswarmth.

”Hey, you're not falling asleep on me, are you?” He drew back to look down ather.

”Mmm.” She opened her eyes and smiled up at him.

”Guess you think I'm a jerk, wanting my son to like me better than that ...other guy,” he said with a smile playing over his mouth.

”I think you're a good man who loves his son and is trying every way he knowshow to be there for him.”

”I'm not so sure I've done anything to earn many points so far.”

She saw a muscle bunch in his jaw and smiled. ”I thought I was the impatientone in this family.”