IGNORING HER ACHING MUSCLES, Claire stirred in bed the next morning and reached for Tucker.
She found nothing but the cold sheet. Suddenly completely awake, she rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling. The dream dissolved in front of her. Tucker wasn’t lying beside her. He’d never been in her bed.
She’d shared his for only a couple of stolen hours.
Longing sliced through her, sharp and painful. But when she heard Nick moving around in the bathroom, she pushed it away and struggled out of bed. Her muscles screamed in protest but she ignored them. She didn’t want to alarm Nick.
Twenty minutes later, while she was bagging Nick’s lunch, he said, “What happened to your arms and your hands, Aunt Claire?”
Claire glanced down at the angry red lines snaking up her arms. “I took a little fall yesterday,” she said lightly. “Into some bushes.”
“Yeah? You okay?”
“I’m fine, Nick. But thanks for asking.” A few weeks ago he wouldn’t have bothered to ask.
He got up from the table. “I’ll see you after school.”
“I’m picking you up at practice, remember?” she said. “So we can go shopping.”
“Yeah,” he tossed over his shoulder as he galloped out the door. “I’ve got to go. I’m late.”
She glanced at the clock, frowning. It was much earlier than he normally left. He must have something going on before school.
For the rest of the day, no matter what she was doing, Tucker crowded her thoughts. If she closed her eyes she felt his touch and smelled his scent, heard his murmured words of endearment. When she licked her lips she tasted his kisses, dark and potent and seductive.
Too distracted to work, she finally gave up and drove to the high school early to pick up Nick from football practice. She told herself she wanted to watch her nephew, but her gaze kept straying to Tucker.
He wore shorts and a polo shirt, and his golden hair lifted in the breeze. As he moved from one group of boys to another, showing them what he wanted to do, watching them do it, she drank in the sight of him. He smiled frequently, his body language encouraging all of them. When he slapped a boy on the back, the boy invariably gave him a huge grin in return.
Obviously, these boys adored Tucker.
She knew how they felt.
Edgy and unsettled, she moved restlessly on the leather seat. Then the boys were heading toward the locker room and Tucker was heading toward her car.
She gripped the steering wheel tightly, then relaxed her fingers and rolled down her window.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Tucker said, resting his forearms on the edge of the door. “How was your day?”
“Too long,” she muttered.
He grinned at her. “Didn’t get much work done?” He ran a finger down her cheek. “What a coincidence. My mind sure wasn’t in the classroom.”
Her heart fluttered. She leaned into his hand, turned her head and pressed a kiss into his palm.
What had happened to her? If Tucker’s slightest touch could make her heart leap in her chest, if a smile could make her legs feel weak, she was in trouble.
She didn’t care. She’d never been so happy.
“What are you doing tonight?” he murmured.
“Nick and I have to go shopping,” she said, reaching for his hand, twining her fingers with his. “He’s growing out of all his clothes.” She gave him a teasing grin. “Want to come along?”
He brushed a kiss across her mouth, gave a mock shudder. “No, thanks. Maybe I’ll stop by later.”
She should tell him no. She should give herself a breather, try to ground herself. But all she could do was smile as her heart bounded in her chest. “Okay.”
He touched her cheek, then stood up reluctantly. “Here comes Nick. I’ll see you later.”
She was still smiling when her nephew got into the car. “Hi, Nick. How was school today?”
“It was okay,” he said, sliding down in the seat. “Are we going straight home?”
“We’re going shopping.” She glanced over at him. “That’s why I picked you up. Remember?”
“Do we have to go shopping?” he asked, giving her a sideways glance. “I’d rather get home and do my homework.”
“Are you sure? A few days ago, when we planned this trip, you told me you didn’t have any clothes that fit.”
He shrugged. “I don’t want to go shopping.”
“All right,” she said, puzzled but pleased that he was so conscientious about his homework. “Maybe we’ll go shopping this weekend.”
“Cool.”
Apparently Nick was serious about his homework, because he ran up to his room as soon as they got home, emerging only to wolf down his dinner, then ran back upstairs. A half hour later, while she tried to finish the work she’d neglected that day, Nick tiptoed behind her into the kitchen. The refrigerator door opened quietly, as if he was trying to muffle the sound.
Curious, she looked in the kitchen door, just in time to see Nick shove a carton of milk beneath his sweatshirt.
“Nick? What are you doing?”
Guilt and fear flashed across his face, and for a moment he looked like a child caught stealing a candy bar from a store. “I wanted a glass of milk. Okay?”
“Sure.” She nodded at the bulge beneath his sweatshirt. “But you don’t have to sneak around with the carton beneath your shirt. What’s going on?”
He looked around wildly, as if searching for an escape. For a moment she thought he’d bolt out the door. Finally he collapsed into a chair and set the carton of milk on the table.
“So am I in trouble for stealing milk?” He gave her what he probably thought was a tough look. But she could see the anxiety beneath his scowl. And the desperation.
Two months ago, his defiance would have pushed all her buttons. Now she understood that was the reaction Nick wanted. “You can’t steal what’s already yours,” she said, praying she was handling this properly. “You’ve been acting odd since yesterday. I want to know why.”
His face filled with stubborn bravado and he opened his mouth, no doubt to give her an angry answer. But when she continued to watch him calmly, not saying a word, he seemed to deflate.
Staring at the carton of milk on the table, he pushed it from one side to the other. Finally he looked at her. “I found a cat,” he blurted. “I think it’s sick. I’ve been feeding it, and Booger’s been helping me.”
“You found a cat?” She stared at him, shocked. It was absolutely the last thing she expected him to say.
“Yeah. I was cutting through the woods to Booger’s. It kind of followed me.”
“And you’ve been bringing it food?”
He nodded and she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me, Nick?”
“I was afraid you’d make me take it to the humane society,” he mumbled. “You know what they do with sick animals there.”
She took his hand. “Don’t you know me better than that?” she asked with a stab of sadness. “Did you think I wouldn’t care about a sick animal?”
He shrugged. “You never talked about pets. I assumed you didn’t want any.”
“I didn’t know you did,” she said quietly. Her heart ached at the raw need in his eyes. “Can we go see your cat? Maybe there’s something we can do for it.”
“Really? You want to see it?” He looked up at her with a blaze of hope.
“Of course I do,” she said. “Let me get my jacket.”
Moments later they were walking down a faint path through the woods. It looked like the same one she and Janice had used when they were children. Nick finally stopped at what looked like a random pile of twigs and branches. But when he squatted next to them, she saw that although the branches had mostly fallen, at one time they’d been arranged to make a tiny shelter.
It was the fort she and Janice had made.
Her throat swelled as she looked at the old branches, now gray and smooth with age. They’d absorbed so many tears, so much pain. They’d been a needed refuge. Their fort had survived all these years, a mute monument to the bond she shared with Janice.
Did you lead your boy to our old fort, Jan?
She wiped the back of her hand across her eyes as Nick knelt in the dirt and pushed the branches aside. Immediately she heard a plaintive meow, and a small gray head poked out of the shelter.
The cat butted its head against Nick’s hand as he petted her, and with a shamefaced glance back at Claire, Nick pulled something out of his pocket. It was a piece of the chicken they’d had for dinner, and the cat inhaled it.
“He doesn’t look too sick to me,” she said softly.
“He hardly moves at all,” Nick replied. “When I found him, he was just lying in some leaves. He followed me for a while, then he lay down again. I’m afraid he’s hurt.”
“Can you coax him out of the shelter?” she asked.
Nick nodded. “He comes when I call his name.”
“You named him?” Her heart twisted in her chest.
“Yeah. I call him Joe.”
Joe was a gray tiger cat. When he emerged from the shelter and plopped down on the ground next to Nick, she saw that he had an enormous belly. “Are you sure it’s a he?” she asked softly.
“What do you mean?” Nick glanced at her, confused.
“It could be pregnant.”
“Is that why he’s so fat?”
“It’s possible. I have no idea how to tell.” She shifted on her knees and reached out a tentative hand to the cat, allowing it to sniff her fingers. When she ran a hand over its side, the cat began to purr.
“He does that a lot,” Nick said.
“This isn’t a wild cat,” Claire said as the cat arched into her hand. “This cat belongs to someone.”
“What should we do with him, Aunt Claire?”
Claire blinked as her eyes burned again. Nick rarely called her “Aunt Claire.” “Let’s take him back to the house, to begin with. A sick cat doesn’t belong outside.”
“Okay.” Nick scooped up the cat, cradling it tenderly in his arms. The animal seemed perfectly happy.
Once they were home, Joe explored the house, sniffing at everything, weaving around the legs of the table, finally plopping onto the floor and meowing plaintively.
“I think Joe is hungry,” Claire said.
“That’s why I was bringing him some milk.”
“I think he needs more than milk. Why don’t we go to the grocery store and get him some food?”
“Can we?” The hope on Nick’s face was almost painful.
“Sure. Let me grab my purse.”
“Do you think he’ll be okay while we’re gone?”
She looked at the cat lying in the middle of the kitchen floor. He looked perfectly content, gazing around like a king surveying his kingdom. “I think he’ll be fine,” she answered. “But if you’re worried that he’s going to be scared, we can put him in the bathroom.”
“Okay.” Nick picked up the cat, murmuring to it in a low voice. After he closed the bathroom door, he bounced to his feet. “Hurry. I don’t want to leave him alone for long.”
Forty-five minutes later they walked back into the house, carrying litter, a litter pan and several different kinds of cat food. Her eyes had prickled with tears as she watched Nick choose everything with great care.
When they closed the door behind them, Joe started crying in the bathroom. Nick dropped his bags on the floor and flung open the door. The cat crawled into his arms.
Claire watched them, bemused. Nick cuddled the cat next to his chest, crooning something to him. And the cat seemed perfectly happy to be there.
“Which kind of food do you want to give him tonight?” she asked.
Nick looked up and shrugged. “Whatever you think.”
She opened a can of food, and Joe jumped out of Nick’s arms. Scooping the contents into a bowl, she handed it to Nick. “Here, you should be the one who feeds him.”
Nick set the bowl on the floor, then hovered as Joe wolfed it down. In less than two minutes the food was gone and Joe was licking the bowl.
“I think he’s still hungry,” Nick said.
“He probably is,” Claire agreed. “But I think we should wait a while to feed him again. If he eats too much, he might get sick.”
Claire set up the litter pan in the bathroom, then watched as the cat followed Nick around the house like a shadow. Finally, she said to him, “Are you finished with your homework?”
“I have a little more to do.”
“Why don’t you get started? You can take Joe up to your room with you if you like. Just leave the door open in case he needs to use the litter pan.”
“Okay.”
Nick’s face glowed with happiness as he scooped up the cat and hurried up the stairs. She heard him talking to Joe in a low voice and her eyes burned again. Why hadn’t she thought about a pet for Nick before now?
Because a pet was another complication she didn’t want to think about. Her condo in Chicago had a no-pets rule. They wouldn’t be able to bring Joe, or any other animal, back to Chicago with them.
Part of her wanted to warn Nick not to get too attached to the cat. Even without the issue of her condo, someone was likely to claim Joe. He was too sweet-natured to be feral.
But right now she just wanted to enjoy this side of her nephew, a side of him she’d never seen before. Maybe a pet, even if he was temporary, was just the thing Nick needed.
Maybe Joe could be the anchor Nick needed in his unsettled life. She wanted her nephew to revel in the uncomplicated love of a pet. And maybe Joe could help Nick express the love she knew was hiding inside him.
NICK LOOKED at Joe again, but the cat was still sleeping on his bed, his head tucked into his chest. He’d been there ever since they came upstairs. As he watched the cat sleep, it looked like Joe’s belly began to move.
“Aunt Claire,” he yelled. “Come quick.”
His aunt ran up the stairs. “What’s wrong?”
“I think Joe has worms.” He stared at Joe’s belly, which had stopped moving.
Aunt Claire shrank away from the cat. “How come? Did you see one?”
“No! But his belly was moving like it was full of worms.”
“Ewww.” Aunt Claire backed away from the cat. “Take him off your bed.”
“It’s not his fault,” Nick protested. “He can’t help it if he has worms.”
“I know it’s not his fault. But I don’t want him on your bed if he has worms.”
Nick didn’t like the idea very much either, so he picked Joe up and held him close. “What should we do?”
“I’ll call the veterinarian,” Aunt Claire said. “Maybe we can take Joe to the clinic and have someone look at him.”
A few minutes later she called up the stairs, “They can see us right away. Let’s go, Nick.”
It didn’t take long to drive to the clinic. Nick clutched Joe, worried about what the vet would say.
The receptionist asked them a bunch of questions. Then she put them in a room and said Dr. Burns would be right in.
A few minutes later a woman walked in. Aunt Claire stood up. “Molly? Molly Burns?” she asked.
“Hi, Claire. Welcome back to Monroe,” the vet said. She gave his aunt a smile. “I’d heard you were back in town. I’ve been meaning to call.”
“This is my nephew, Nick. Janice’s son.”
“Hi, Nick,” the vet said.
“You moved away in high school,” Aunt Claire said. “When did you move back here?”
“A couple of years ago.” The vet looked sad for a moment. “I came back with my daughter after my husband passed away.”
“You have a daughter?” Aunt Claire asked.
“Her name is Caitlyn. She’s fourteen. We didn’t change her name after I got married.”
Nick tightened his grip on Joe and the cat meowed. The vet was Caitlyn Burns’s mom?
“What do you have here, Nick?”
“This is Joe. We think he might have worms.”
“Let’s take a look at him.”
Caitlyn’s mom poked at Joe and looked at his ears, his mouth and beneath his tail. Then she pushed at his belly.
“I think you’re going to have to come up with a different name for Joe,” she finally said with a smile. “Josephine might be a better choice. Joe’s a female. And she’s very pregnant.”
Aunt Claire put her hand on Joe’s belly. “So that’s why her belly was moving. We thought she had worms.”
“She might, but what you saw was her kittens.”
“What do we do?” Aunt Claire asked.
“I’ll give her medicine for worms today.”
“No, I mean about the kittens.”
“You don’t have to do a thing.” Dr. Burns smiled and petted Joe. “You can give her a box with towels, but she’ll have the kittens when and where she feels like it.”
After more questions about taking care of Joe, his aunt said to Mrs. Burns, “We should get together, Molly.”
Caitlyn’s mom smiled. “I’d love to, Claire. Give me a call.”
Nick watched the two adults, wondering what they would talk about. Maybe Aunt Claire would tell Dr. Burns about seeing Caitlyn in the ice cream shop. His face burned as he remembered what a dork he’d been.
“Call me if you have any more questions,” Dr. Burns said as she held the door open for them.
Joe purred the whole way home. Nick watched his aunt’s face, wondering what she was thinking.
“I’ll take care of Joe,” he finally said, desperate to keep the cat. “I’ll feed her and clean up after her and everything. You won’t have to do a thing.”
His aunt glanced over at him. “You know her real owner might show up,” she said. Nick couldn’t believe she actually sounded sad about it. “We’ll have to put up signs in case someone is looking for her.”
“What if no one wants her? Can I keep her?” He held his breath, waiting for her answer.
“Of course.” His aunt smiled at him. “I’ve always wanted a cat.”
“Then how come you don’t have one?”
A shadow crossed her face. “My condo in Chicago doesn’t allow pets.”
That sick feeling in his stomach came back, the one he hadn’t felt for a while. “Then I guess she’ll have to stay here with me when you go home.”
She shot him a look, but said only, “We’ll figure something out.”
Nick was still worrying about it when they turned into the driveway and saw Coach Hall’s truck. Another fear gripped him. Was Coach here to tell his aunt about the grade he’d gotten on his essay, the one he’d blown off because he needed to take care of Joe?
“Hey, Nick. Hi, Claire,” Coach called as he got out of his truck. “I just stopped by to see how you were doing.”
Coach went up to his aunt and took her hand, and Nick narrowed his eyes. What was going on?
“I’m fine,” Aunt Claire said. She gave him a sappy smile. “Thanks for checking on me.”
“I told you I’d stop by.”
Aunt Claire smiled at Nick. “Show Tucker why we weren’t home,” she said.
He climbed out of the car, holding Joe in his arms. Coach came over and petted the cat. “Who is this?”
“This is Joe,” Nick said. “She’s our new cat.” He glanced over at Aunt Claire.
“Looks like you’re going to have more than one new cat pretty soon.” He touched Joe’s belly and smiled at Nick.
“Nick found her.” Aunt Claire came over and put her arm around his shoulders. “He’s been taking care of her in the woods for a few days.”
She actually sounded proud of him! Surprised, he studied her face. She was looking at Coach.
“Yeah?” Coach grinned at him. “I wondered why you took off from practice the last few days like your hair was on fire.”
Both Coach and Aunt Claire smiled at him, as if he’d done something cool. Nick squirmed, his ears burning. “I thought she was sick. I was worried about her.”
“Good job, Nick,” Coach said. Nick held Joe more tightly.
Coach petted her again. “Is it okay if I stop by again to see how she’s doing?”
Nick shrugged. “Sure.”
Coach turned to Aunt Claire. “You sure you’re all right?” He touched her side. “How are your ribs?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
Nick frowned as he watched the two adults look at each other. Something was going on. Aunt Claire had that sappy smile on her face again.
“See you at practice tomorrow, Nick,” he said as he swung into his truck.
Nick watched the truck disappear down the street, then turned to Aunt Claire. “What’s up with you and Coach?”