When Holt came back to his house a half hour later, he could just make out Robby’s voice upstairs. He heard laughter, a combination of his son’s hearty laugh and Amanda’s. Then he heard Robby say something and again more laughter. If the boy was having this much fun getting tutored in reading, Amanda deserved a million bucks and a gold medal. And his everlasting thanks.
And dinner, which he hoped she wouldn’t find presumptuous. This morning, he’d promised Robby one of his favorites, chicken parm with spaghetti and garlic bread, and he did recall Amanda ordering a chicken parm sub from a pizza place on their trip into town on one of their days off from camp, so he knew she liked it. Maybe she’d say thanks but no thanks and leave. Or maybe she’d stay. He was hoping for stay. She’d been here for thirty minutes, which meant another thirty to go—exactly when dinner would be ready. No one could resist the smell of garlic bread, right?
By the time the cheese was melting and the garlic bread smelled so good that his stomach rumbled, he heard Robby running down the hall upstairs. “Daddy!” came his son’s booming voice. “I smell something amazing! Amanda, doesn’t that smell amazing?”
“Sure does,” he heard her say.
Half a minute later, Robby was sniffing his way into the kitchen, Amanda right behind him.
“That really does smell intensely good,” she said. “Garlic bread and what else?”
“Chicken parm!” Robby said, rubbing his hands together. “Daddy promised me he’d make it tonight.”
“And I made enough for three,” Holt said, catching Amanda’s gaze. “Stay? We’d like to thank you for what definitely sounded like a good first day of reading practice.”
“It was fun, Daddy,” Robby said. “I read a book—a chapter book!—to Amanda about a dog named Joey who has a cat for a best friend! Just like Bentley and Oliver. And Amanda said I can keep the book too. And yes, I said thank you.”
Holt smiled. “Good. How about you go wash up for dinner and meet us in the dining room?”
Robby ran off, and Amanda moved closer into the kitchen, giving the air a sniff.
“I was just a little hungry before but now I’m starving,” she said. “That just smells too good.”
Thank you, universe, he sent heavenward. “Great.”
She leaned against the counter, looking so sexy in her dark jeans and pale pink tank top, white stars embroidered on the V-neckline. Her hair was in a braid down one shoulder. She’d dressed casually, instead of more “teacher-like” to make Robby feel comfortable, he realized. “Talk go okay with your mom?”
He dragged his attention off how pretty she was and onto her question. “Better than okay. And you’re on for the every weekday arrangement. Turns out my mom is taking an intensive knitting class that meets every day at that time for the next two weeks, so I’d need someone to fill in for her anyway. She wants to keep watching Robby, so she’ll switch some morning hours with one of my brothers.”
Her eyes widened as if she hadn’t fully expected it to work out. “I’m glad. Wow, I’ll really get to put my plan into motion—to get a sense of what it would be like to be a mom of a child Robby’s age. I mean, not that spending two hours a day with him is anything close to what goes into raising a child, but I’ll get a real sense, you know?”
“I think it’s great that you want to be a mom and that you’re thinking of an older child. That’s beautiful, Amanda. There are a lot of kids out there who need loving homes.” There’s also an open slot in my own small family for someone who loves kids and dogs and cats, he thought.
Whoa—that notion slammed into him with startling force. He’d gone from thinking about the possibility of a second chance to marriage? Holt wasn’t used to being led around by his heart, not that he’d used his brains much when he was younger either. But these days, he was six feet two inches of emotion. And given that Amanda had told him a second chance was off the table, he’d better be careful with himself.
But now Amanda was smiling so warmly at him that he wanted to gather her into his arms and just hold her and never let her go.
Luckily, Robby was back and dinner was ready, so he focused on plating everything. Robby carried the platter of garlic bread with two hands into the dining room, while Amanda brought in the salad and he carried the platter of chicken parm. They sat at the big table, big enough for his whole family and a guest or two, but because they were all at one end, it felt cozy. And right. Him. Robby. And Amanda.
Every time he looked at that chair, he’d be reminded of that open slot.
For his wife. For a mother for Robby.
Robby pronounced the chicken parm “too good for words,” and Amanda seconded that. They ate and drank iced tea and talked about Robby’s reading practice, and how patient Bentley was to sit through three books over the hour. They talked about their favorite seasons and foods and TV shows, and suddenly it was as if ten years hadn’t gone by, and he and Amanda were those same two kids, lying on the grass by lake and holding hands, talking about everything. He could barely take his eyes off her during dinner. I am you and you are me...
With mere crumbs left on everyone’s plate, Amanda insisted on helping him clear the table. In the kitchen, while he scooped out the ice cream for their dessert, he asked if she was okay staying a bit later after Robby went to bed so they could work up the schedule—and talk more about her idea to adopt. And why. Holt had said he wanted to continue that conversation, which had surprised her.
She hesitated for a moment, then said, “Sure. I can stay for a bit.”
He smiled to himself, well aware that she was a little nervous about being alone with him, about their undeniable attraction, about whether despite what they’d agreed to, they’d end up kissing again.
Maybe they’d end up in bed, where Holt would love to spend some time with Amanda Jenkins.
He knew that was a pipe dream given all she’d said earlier, but he was still filled with anticipation about later. About possibilities. Maybe they could have a second chance. Maybe he could change her mind, let her see that he was someone she could trust.
Twenty minutes later, ice cream sundaes consumed, Amanda insisted on cleaning up since Holt had cooked, so Holt and Robby went into the yard with Bentley. Robby asked Amanda if she’d watch his favorite before-bed TV show with him, about the bull, so the three watched that together, Amanda on the big club chair perpendicular to the sofa, him and Robby on the couch. Through the show, Holt kept picturing the three of them sitting on the sofa—Robby between them—every night after dinner. Right now she was keeping a bit of a distance, which he totally understood.
After Robby’s quick bath and a story and his good-night routine with Bentley and Oliver, which included having Robby say good-night to each from each, the boy was asleep in his bed, his arm wrapped around his stuffed rodeo bull. And he and Amanda finally were alone to talk.
He came downstairs to find her looking at the framed photographs on the fireplace mantel. There were a lot of pictures. Mostly of Robby, and a lot of the boy with his uncles and grandparents, plus a few from when Holt was a kid. He did have a photo of him and Amanda from ten years ago, which he kept in the drawer of his bedside table. Sometimes over the years he’d pull it out and wonder where she was, what she was doing.
Now she was right here.
“Robby did very well earlier,” she said, turning around. “I think I can help him get moved up at least two levels by the time school starts.”
“That’s great, Amanda. Thank you. Really.”
She sat back down in the club chair, avoiding being next to him on the sofa, unfortunately. “So the plan is that I’ll come every day at three o’clock for reading time, then at four, we’ll switch to playtime. I don’t have to work with Robby on reading every day—maybe three times a week so that it doesn’t feel like school. There are lots of ways to make reading feel joyful, but it’s still hard work for him, so I need to be careful of not overdoing it.”
“Sounds good. Scratch that—it sounds amazing. I don’t know how I got so lucky, Amanda. The reading help from someone experienced and compassionate who really gets Robby. And the babysitting time. I know it helps you out too, but I really can’t thank you enough.”
“I’m really happy about the arrangement.”
“I have no doubt you’ll make an incredible mother, Amanda. You’re loving and kind and Robby is nuts about you. He’s a very good judge of character.”
The big, happy smile on her beautiful face told him how much this plan of hers really meant to her. She might be at the starting gate with even thinking about motherhood, but being a mom was in her heart; he could clearly see that.
“I think about everything you’re saying and how my son’s own mother doesn’t feel that way.” He shook his head. “I hate that I had something to do with you giving up on love, though,” he said with a grimace. “I know you got hurt again after our relationship, but I just wish I’d been different back then.” He really needed to take a giant step back.
She looked at him for a moment, then said, “To the future, then. Everything is about what’s ahead.”
But here he was, focused on the past—and moving backward, not forward.
And now they were pretty much done with discussing the plan, but he wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. Maybe there was more to say. “Coffee? We can clink to the new arrangement.”
She smiled again. “Sure.”
He got up to make it and brought it in the living room to find her once again looking through the photos on the mantel. As he set the tray of mugs and the sugar bowl and creamer on the coffee table, she sat down in front of it on the sofa. He sat beside her.
She added cream to her coffee. “I have a few pictures of you from that summer we were a couple. Sometimes I’d take one out and wonder where you were, what you were doing.”
He turned and stared at her. “I did the same thing. And was just thinking about that when I came down and saw you looking at the family photos. When I got divorced I thought about looking you up, but—”
“But what?” she whispered.
It wasn’t easy for him to think back to those days. “I guess I felt like I was in a bad place. Newly divorced, a young son who didn’t understand where his mother was.”
She reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He held on to her hand, looking into her eyes, leaning toward her a bit...leaning a bit more until their lips touched. She moved closer to him, his hands on either side of her face, then in her hair, across her back. He loved the feel of her, the lightly perfumed scent of her.
He couldn’t get enough of Amanda, his hands now traveling up the back of her tank top, her soft bare skin driving him insane. He remembered the first time they made love, when they went camping on their day off, and he felt so much that he thought his heart might actually explode.
But now she was pulling away, fixing her tank top and smoothing her hair. “Holt, I can’t. I said so. You said so. We can’t do this.”
“But if we both want to and clearly we do—”
She shook her head. “I’m attracted to you. No doubt. But like I said, I’m done with romance. And certainly with someone who broke my heart so bad I can still remember how hurt I was ten years later. I’m sorry, Holt. But I won’t go there.” She grabbed her bag and headed for the door. “I don’t want to disappoint Robby, so I won’t back out on him. But no more, Holt. We don’t sit on the same sofa anymore. Got it?”
He managed something of a smile that he hardly felt. “Got it.”
At least he knew for absolute sure that she was still attracted to him. The kiss last night could have been chalked up to nostalgia. But tonight had been pure chemistry and undeniable heat.
He just had to prove to her that he’d changed, that he was the guy she’d always thought he was. He had a solid two weeks to do that, while she was here every day.
And dammit, he’d do it.
“Good luck with that,” Brittany said with a warm smile. She and Amanda sat at the kitchen table in their condo the next morning, Amanda on her second cup of coffee and a barely touched bagel after telling her roommate all that had happened yesterday. “Look, I get why you’re wary of Holt. But like I said before, keep an open mind—even just a smidge open.”
Amanda grimaced. “My mind is a smidge open—otherwise I wouldn’t have kissed him back last night. My hands were all over his chest! That brought back some serious memories. For a second there, I was so lost in ten years ago that I forgot I’m supposed to sit far away from Holt whenever we’re alone in a room together.”
Brittany laughed, tucking an errant long ringlet behind her ear. “Yeah, good luck with that too. You like him too much. You have too much history. And you’re too attracted to him for that. You know, Amanda, the read I’m getting based on everything you said happened yesterday and the day before is that Holt Dalton is still very much in love with you.”
A little burst of sadness made its way from her stomach to her chest, stopping on the left side. She shook her head. “How in love could he have been, Brittany? He just walked away.”
“Because he was going back to nothing, honey. Back to the guy he was before he met you.”
Huh. Amanda hadn’t thought of it that way. “Go on,” she said. “I’m listening.” Thank God for insightful roommates.
Brittany took a sip of her coffee. “He was headed down the wrong road in those days, right? Getting into trouble with the law for minor offenses. No plans for his life after dropping out of college. No job, no direction. And didn’t you say he had some issues with his father? So he couldn’t just go home. He had nowhere to go and that’s where he thought he would take you, Amanda. So he broke up with you instead.”
Amanda gasped. “You’re right. You are one hundred percent right. That makes total sense to me.” She sat back, kind of stunned. She’d never been able to understand how a guy who’d obviously loved her—and Holt had, she was sure of it—could have just dumped her that way, torn them apart and taken off as if the whole summer hadn’t happened. Now she knew. He’d done it for her.
She stared at her sesame bagel, something poking at her heart. “But, Brittany, I could have helped turn his life around. He knew that too. I would have set him on the right path. He didn’t trust in that. That says something too.”
“Yeah, it says he didn’t trust in love or people enough for that because of what he’d gone through in his own life. It’s not about you, Amanda. I know it’s hard not to take it personally. But his reasons and thought processes when he left you—it was about him.”
“I hear you. I don’t like it, but I hear you.”
“I can be louder if you need it,” Brittany said, grinning. “Any time you need some coaxing over to the love side, you just let me know.”
“And what about you?” Amanda asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I date plenty. But I like my singlehood just the way it is.”
Her roommate had met a lot of special someones. And she’d let them all go. When she was ready, she’d be ready. That was all there was to it.
Brittany had to get to work, so Amanda cleaned up, played with Poindexter for a few minutes and then sat down at her desk in her bedroom. She checked her email—for the millionth time—hoping there would be a response or two about her post on the chat group of people with adoption queries. She wanted to have good news for her friend and neighbor, Mel, about the whereabouts of Beatrix Abernathy—the long-lost baby that Mel’s fiancé’s great-grandfather had had to give up for adoption seventy-five years ago.
There was a response!
Dear Amanda, I hope you connect with the person you’re looking for. I found a half sister I never knew existed through this group so don’t give up hope if it takes a while to get a lead.
Amanda’s heart sank that the response wasn’t from someone who did have a lead on Beatrix, but at least some kind person out there was sending good wishes her way, particularly someone who had connected with the person she’d been looking for. Amanda did appreciate that. Especially because she had no idea how they’d ever find Beatrix otherwise with such little information to go on.
Someday I will find a way to bring her back to you...
Josiah Abernathy’s words to his young love, Winona Cobbs, filled her mind, all the determination in that letter he’d tucked inside his journal, buried under the floorboards of his old ranch house for seventy-plus years.
Where are you, Beatrix Abernathy? she wondered. Right here in Bronco? For all Amanda knew, she’d walked past her in town countless times over the past two years. I sure hope we find you.
There were so many ways people, loved ones, got separated from one another.
You and Holt have a second chance. Stop resisting it, a little voice said.
Oh, you resist it, Amanda Jenkins, and hard! another, louder little voice said. That man will crush your heart again. Mark my words. It was all about him then and it is now.
Poindexter jumped up on her desk and sat right beside her laptop.
“What to do, Poin?” she asked the wise cat. “Give me a sign.”
Poindexter began grooming his face with his paw, which told her nothing. Except that maybe she should start researching adoption instead of just thinking about it. She typed Wyoming Department of Family Services into the search engine and clicked on Foster Care and Adoption Requirements. She could foster a child or adopt as a single person—that was good. She read about how to become a foster parent, which seemed the way to begin the process since she wanted to adopt an older child. A half hour passed and she’d taken pages of notes, excited and a little scared at what a huge undertaking this would be.
She glanced at the time; she had to get into the shower and get cracking on her to-do list. She had a busy schedule of work at home and two meetings, and then she’d head back to Holt’s house to work with Robby and spend time with her favorite seven-year-old.
She thought about Brittany’s “good luck with that,” which made her worry that this attraction thing with Holt was out of her hands, that she couldn’t stop it or even try to. Amanda was pretty sure her roommate was right about that. Maybe all the reason to work harder at remembering how badly he’d hurt her, that it had been all about him so she wouldn’t get her head all turned around.
She’d focus on Robby when she was at the Dalton home. Not his superhot dad.