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Authors: Pat Warren

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The way he told on himself made her smile. “Yes, you are kind of like that. But no apology necessary. You were right. I was exhausted, but I couldn’t leave Grace there to do it alone. My mother says I always take on too much, then get cranky that I have to finish it.”
Alex smiled at that. “Sometimes our parents do know us fairly well.” At the sound of his name, he turned his head to look at the field and saw Ryan moving up to the plate, carrying a bat in one hand and waving to him with the other. “Hey, Ryan. Go get ’em.”
“Oh, I hope he gets at least a base hit,” Megan whispered. “He hates to strike out.”
“Who doesn’t?” Alex saw the first pitch come and Ryan swung at it, missing by a mile. “How much time does the coach spend helping these kids?”
“They have practice every Saturday, but each man has two teams to coach. There aren’t enough volunteers to go around, so no individual boy gets much help. Unless he has older brothers or a father who cares.”
A father who cares.
I’m not supposed to talk about my dad,
Ryan had told him. A picture of Neal Delaney was forming, and it wasn’t pretty.
Ryan missed the second pitch, as well. Alex could tell by the boy’s stance that he was by turns nervous and embarrassed. “I guess Ryan’s father didn’t have much time to spend coaching him on the side.”
Megan sighed. She’d spent most of her married years defending Neal’s disinterest and absences to their son and to others, maybe even to herself. Explaining that he was busy, tired, traveling. But with all she’d been through the past two years, she was finding it more and more difficult to maintain the illusion of a caring husband and father. However, Alex was still basically a stranger and she didn’t want Ryan to somehow pick up on some ugly truths about his father until he was old enough to understand.
“Neal traveled a great deal, trying to drum up business for the inn. I help Ryan when I can.”
The third pitch came. Ryan swung and missed, striking out. Dejectedly, he dragged the bat back to the bench.
Alex was good at reading between the lines. He admired Megan’s loyalty to her dead husband even as he wondered at the real story. “You help him, eh? That explains why he swings like a girl.”
“Thanks a lot.”
“You got a bat around the house somewhere?”
“No.” She saw where he was going with this and decided to nip it in the bud. “Look, this isn’t your problem. Ryan will manage somehow and—”
“He’s quick and smart, eager to learn. If you won’t let me help you, at least let me show your son how to hit a ball.”
Megan came to a quick decision, for Ryan’s sake. “All right, but I’ll buy the bat.”
“
I’ll
buy the bat—you can pay me back. Girls don’t know how to pick out bats.”
“Listen, mister, girls are good for a lot of things, I’ll have you know.” The moment the words were out, she realized how they must sound.
Close alongside her, he gazed down into her blue, blue eyes. “Yeah, I do know that. But baseball’s not one of them.”
She couldn’t help it. She blushed, then turned away without another word.
Two more innings, and by some miracle, Ryan’s team won. He came galloping over, both shoes untied, his clothes sweaty; his hat crooked. “We won! Did you see that, Mr. Shephard? We won!”
“Good job, sport.”
He’d forgotten she was there, Megan thought in amazement. Had to be something to this male bonding. “You were great, sweetie.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He was beaming ear to ear, his poor showing at bat forgotten.
“A win like that deserves a reward.” Alex turned to Megan. “Is there a pizza joint around here somewhere?”
“Pizza! Yes!” Ryan was thrilled.
“There’s Pasquale’s, but it’s about ten miles along the highway and—”
“Aw, come on, Mom,” Alex coaxed, making Ryan laugh. “It’s not even seven.”
Megan was more concerned with the few dollars in her wallet than with the lateness of the hour. However, the excitement on Ryan’s face had her giving in. She’d order something small for him and just have a soft drink herself. “All right, you win.”
“One more thing,” Alex said as they made their way to the parking lot. “Could Ryan ride with me? That is, if it’s all right with you?” He knew the kid had been dying for a ride in his Porsche.
Ryan leaped into the air with excitement. “Yeah, Mom, could I? Please, oh, please?”
Megan didn’t much care for the way Alex had maneuvered that one, but again she gave in. “Okay, but you stay right behind me at the speed limit.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Alex said as they arrived at the Porsche. As soon as Alex opened the door, the boy hopped in, squirming with anticipation. Alex climbed behind the wheel and turned on the powerful engine. “Put your seat belt on, Ryan.”
Megan stood watching, nervously rattling her keys. “We’re going to have a little talk, you and I,” she told Alex.
He looked at her, his lips twitching. “I look forward to it.”
Chapter 4
T
he joint was jumping. Pasquale’s had Tom and Jerry cartoons playing along the back wall, video games clanging in a side room and four waitresses dressed like mice with floppy ears singing birthday greetings to a table of eight. Just your usual Thursday night happening.
With practiced ease, Alex shouldered his way to a booth with a wide-eyed Ryan and his reluctant mother following. “Now I invited you, so this is my treat,” he said, aware of Megan’s worried frown. “Tell me what you like on your pizza.”
“Everything except anchovies and green peppers,” Ryan stated above the noisy din. “I hate peppers.”
Alex nodded. “Gotcha.” He turned to Megan. “And you, madam?”
“I’m not very hungry, but thanks.”
Her stubbornness wasn’t going to work tonight. “If you don’t want to eat, you can watch us. We’re starving, right, sport?”
“Yeah, starving.” Alongside his mother, Ryan was craning his neck, watching all the activity. He’d never been in Pasquale’s.
A waitress with pencil and pad poised walked over. “Welcome to Pasquale’s. Have you decided?”
“You bet. A large special, but skip the anchovies and peppers. And to drink?” He raised a questioning brow at Megan.
“A small root beer for me and—”
“Make that a pitcher of root beer and three glasses,” Alex finished. Noticing that Ryan was looking longingly toward the video games, he dug in his pocket and came up with four quarters. “Ryan, you want to go over and try your luck?”
Ryan looked at the quarters, then at his mother. “Can I?”
Her expression tight, Megan turned to Alex. “That really isn’t necessary.”
“No, I don’t suppose it is. Games are fun, not necessary. Ryan will enjoy playing, and I’ll enjoy watching him. Why don’t you let him go and we can have that little talk you mentioned?” He pretty much knew what was coming and decided it was best she get it out.
Megan stood up, allowing Ryan to scoot out of the booth. “Stay where I can see you, Ryan.”
Spotting a friend from his class, Ryan hurried to the games section.
His mother sat back down. Thoughtful a moment, she searched for a way to get her message across as she toyed with her fork. “I’d prefer if you’d ask me first, out of Ryan’s hearing, if you have a suggestion for him.” She looked up. “Could you do that?”
Alex nodded. Was it going to be this easy? “Sure. Anything else?”
Elbows on the table, she crossed her arms. “Why are you being so nice to my son?”
That he hadn’t expected. Alex shrugged. “He’s a great kid, and I’m a nice guy.”
“No, really. Tell me why.”
The fact was, he couldn’t tell her he was driven partially by guilt, a guilt he was afraid to confess. The shadow of Neal Delaney hung over them. But it was more than that. He who’d not spent much time with children found he got a kick out of Ryan. The boy’s enthusiasm was refreshing and contagious. “Can’t you take the few things I’ve done at face value?”
“No. People have hidden agendas. I don’t want Ryan hurt. He’s already had far too many disappointments for someone as young as he is.”
“And you think I’ll hurt him?”
How could she make him see without revealing too much? “I don’t think you’d mean to, but, well, it’s difficult to explain. Ryan’s father is gone and he lives mostly with two women. Naturally, he’s drawn to a man who pays attention to him. But when you leave—”
“He’ll feel abandoned again, like when his father died.” Alex drew in a breath, considering that conclusion since it honestly hadn’t occurred to him before. “So then you intend to keep him away from all men until you find someone you want to marry. Is that it?”
“No. I don’t intend to marry again and—”
“Oh, so then you intend to keep Ryan away from all men, period. Any male teachers, coaches, guests in your home. Anyone he might get attached to, even fleetingly. But women friends are okay, right? Don’t women guests ever leave, or teachers move on? Won’t he feel bad if a little friend of his moves away? How are you going to prevent that, keep him away from kids, too?”
Put that way, she felt foolish. “You’re missing the point.”
“No, you’re missing the point. Ryan’s eight, not two. He’s smart enough to know that I’m here now, but that I’ll be going back home, just like Walter and Jean and your other guests. But that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends during the time we have together.”
Megan sat staring at her folded hands, wondering if she was making a mountain out of a molehill. She’d only wanted to protect her son.
“Listen, I think I know a little of what Ryan feels since my mother died when I was fairly young. Every time I saw my father with a woman, I wondered if he’d marry her. I loved my mother a great deal and I didn’t want him to try to replace her. Yet I was drawn to the idea of a woman in our lives again, someone who’d cook my favorite foods and knit sweaters and stick up for me when my dad was too strict. Did you ever think that Ryan looks at me not as a replacement for his father but rather as just a guy he can have a few laughs with and maybe learn something from?”
Except that Ryan’s feelings for his father weren’t like Alex’s for his mother, Megan thought. Neal hadn’t had much to do with his son as a baby, and even later he all but ignored Ryan. He’d never helped with his school projects, never attended one ball game, one Cub Scout meeting. No movies or fun visits to pizza parlors. The last year or two of his life, Neal had stayed away more, almost like a familiar stranger to both of them.
But how could she explain all that to a man she hardly knew?
“I see your point, but I hope you also see mine.”
Alex reached over and placed a hand over both of hers. “I do. And I promise I’ll try not to hurt him.”
Ryan came barreling over at that moment, causing both adults to pull back their hands. “Hey, Mr. Shephard, I beat Jamie, this kid from my class, at Pac-Man twice. Can you believe it? Want to play me?”
“Maybe later, sport. Here comes our dinner.”
As the waitress set down the steaming pizza and drinks, Megan slid out of the booth. “I think you need to wash your hands before eating, Ryan. Baseball grime all over you. Come with me.”
“Aw, Mom, I don’t want to go into the girls’ room.” He changed to a whisper. “My friend’s here.”
“Ryan, we’re far from home and this is a big place. We’ve talked about stranger danger. I don’t want you to go in alone.”
The waitress left and Alex got up. “I’ll go with him to the men’s room. Come on, Ryan.”
When they returned, Megan was busily pouring root beer. She noticed that Ryan’s hands were sparkling clean. She spoke to Alex without looking up. “I know you think I’m overly protective but—”
“Just a tad, yeah. Hand me your plate, Ryan.” He slid a piece on for the boy, then filled her plate and his own. “I also think it’s natural to be overly protective when you’re solely responsible for your child. You should have seen my dad. The first date I went on, he insisted on driving me to pick up the girl, took us to the party and came back for us. If you don’t think I was embarrassed...”
Megan relaxed, surprised yet grateful that he seemed to understand. “How old were you?”
“Fourteen.” Alex took a bite and chewed appreciatively. “It was a birthday party for a classmate. Her parents stayed out in the backyard. We played spin the carrot.”
Megan swallowed around a laugh. “Spin the carrot?”
“Yeah. We didn’t have a bottle so we used a carrot. When it was my turn, the carrot pointed to Norma Doolittle of all people.”
“She wasn’t your type?”
“She had a problem that became my problem. Braces. The minute I went near her mouth to try to kiss her, these tiny rubberbands came shooting out. Nearly put out my eye.”
Behind her napkin, Megan laughed again. “You’re making that up.” Despite her misgivings about Alex—and there were many—she was beginning to enjoy herself, to enjoy him. Dangerous! a part of her mind warned. But for this one evening, she’d ignore the warning.
“You kissed a girl?” Ryan asked incredulously. “Yuk!”
“It was pretty yukky, all right. But things improved as I got older.” He grinned at Megan and winked.
As she sipped her root beer, her eyes settled on his mouth and she found herself wondering just how his kiss might feel. That thought, Megan knew, was even more dangerous.
 
“Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight,” Ryan sing-songed as they walked through the graveled parking lot. “Gotta make a wish. I wish I had a kitten. What do you wish for, Alex?”
“That’s easy.” Holding the somewhat sticky hand that Ryan had slipped into his, Alex gazed up at a sky full of stars. “I wish I was on a windjammer ship sailing on the South Seas or in Switzerland getting ready to climb Mount Pilatus or in Kenya on a safari. Something fun and adventurous.”
Alongside the Porsche, they stopped, and Megan looked up at him as if seeing him for the first time. “You’ve done those things before?”
“Oh, yeah, and I want to do them again.” Alex’s expression was filled with yearning. “You feel so wonderfully alive when you’re out there—just you and the forces of nature.” He remembered it so well with something that resembled nostalgia, then caught Megan’s look. “Why are you frowning?”
“I knew someone like you once. He was never satisfied with things as they were, always searching for something new just over the horizon.”
Did she mean Neal? “You don’t approve?”
“I can’t understand such a restless nature, such a fierce pursuit of the next thrill, something more exciting than the last.”
“I think of it more as just having fun. Everyone needs some fun in their lives, Megan. You’ve heard about Jack, haven’t you?”
“Jack?”
“Yeah. All work and no play made him a dull boy.”
Perhaps she was dull, Megan thought. But that was far better than pursuing the impossible dream.
“What’s your wish, Mom?” Ryan asked.
That, too, was easy. Boring, but easy. “I want us all to stay healthy, and I want to keep our rooms filled.”
“You always say that, Mom.”
Alex looked into her eyes, trying to read through her guarded expression. “Surely you want more than that, Megan. This isn’t a dress rehearsal. We only go around once. Life’s mighty short.” Hadn’t he almost lost his recently?
“Yes, I know. I buried my husband last year. Like you, he was drawn to new adventures. And he died a very unhappy man.” She slipped her arm around her son’s shoulders, drew him near. “It’s time we left, sweetie. Say thank-you and good-night.”
“Thanks for the pizza. And the quarters. I had a great time.” Ryan beamed up at Alex.
Unable to resist, Alex ruffled the boy’s dark hair. “You’re welcome, sport. See you later.”
“And thanks from me, too.” Eyes averted, Megan pivoted on her heel, but her sandal got caught on a piece of gravel and she stumbled. She would have fallen if Alex hadn’t reached out and steadied her, bringing them in very close contact. So close she could feel his warm breath on her neck.
Heart thudding, she looked up at him, very aware of his strong hands at her waist, the pressure of those long fingers. His eyes were a silvery green in the moonlight, intense, darkly passionate. For a fleeting instant, she wished she could give in to the need she saw reflected there. The sensual pull was much stronger than when he’d touched her by the refrigerator.
Then she straightened and hustled her son to her six-year-old Mustang with the muffler that needed replacing. Inside, she sighed wearily.
She didn’t want a man in her life, Megan reminded herself, didn’t want to waste energy longing for things she was better off without, for feelings she would only regret. Besides, Alex Shephard was the wrong man to want. He was everything she should run from, everything she’d vowed to never again give in to.
Despite all that, she looked down at hands that trembled and acknowledged that right this minute, she wanted to feel his strong arms around her more than her next breath.
 
Early the next afternoon, Alex went looking for Megan and finally found her in the laundry room off the kitchen. “I’m sorry to bother you, but do you have a screwdriver handy?”
Straightening from the dryer, she sent him a puzzled look. “A screwdriver?”
Reluctantly, Alex brought his hand forward from behind his back and held out the doorknob to his room. His key was still in the lock. “This came off a few minutes ago. I thought I had a screwdriver in my glove compartment, but I don’t. It’ll only take me a minute if you have one.”
Embarrassed and annoyed in equal measure, Megan reached for her toolbox. “I’ll take care of it.”
“No, I didn’t come here for that. I can do it if you’ll lend me a screwdriver. Please.” She was wearing her stubborn face and he was getting exasperated. It had been that kind of day.
He’d met with old man Parsons’s son for over an hour this morning and the kid had been arrogant and obnoxious. Alex had half a mind to tell him to take his land and shove it. But then, his reason for staying in Twin Oaks would be gone. Still, he was in no mood for yet another round of sparring.

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