“You’re going to let me sink or swim on my own?” She meant the comment to lighten the tension a bit. But it didn’t, and she murmured, “You’re hoping I sink.” So much for being friends. “Okay, Mr. Barclay. How much time are you going to give me?”
“Let’s just see how it goes.”
She supposed that meant if she and Kyle got along well, he’d give her a little more time. But whether that was fifteen minutes or an hour, she knew he wouldn’t say. She was a planner, an organizer. But today she was going to have to go with the flow whether she liked it or not.
However, going with the flow required a certain amount of trust. She didn’t have much trust anymore—certainly not in men. In her experience men walked away when life didn’t go the way they planned.
How she wished her mother was still alive. She could give her guidance. But her mom was gone and Sara had no family. “Can I meet Kyle now?”
Carrying her jacket to the closet just inside the door, Nathan hung it up. Then, after a long look at her, he called, “Kyle. Come on out here a minute, will you? There’s someone I want you to meet.”
Sara’s heart raced so fast she couldn’t count the beats.
When the five-year-old appeared, tears brimmed in her eyes and she quickly blinked them away. She couldn’t be overcome by emotion. A child wouldn’t understand that, and she didn’t want to scare him. She just wanted to talk with him and be with him.
She didn’t need a DNA test to know right away that he was her son. She could see the evidence in his green eyes, so like hers…and in the tilt of his smile, so like her mother’s.
As he ran up to his dad and stood expectantly waiting for an introduction, while glancing surreptitiously at her, she noted he had Nathan’s dark brown hair and a very defined little chin. He’d probably be as stubborn as his father someday.
“Sara,” Nathan said, as if he’d been using her first name for years, “this is my son, Kyle. Kyle, this is that friend I told you about. Her name is Sara.”
Not knowing exactly how to proceed, she approached him slowly. “Hi there, Kyle.”
As a lawyer, Sara negotiated and dealt with adults on a daily basis. She suspected kids didn’t like to be crowded any more than grown-ups, so she kept some distance between them.
Motioning to the two fire trucks she’d spotted by the bookshelves, she decided to jump in with both feet. After all, her time here could be extremely limited. “I noticed your aerial truck and pumper. Were you rescuing people from those tall buildings?” She’d taken a guess that the bookshelves were high-rises.
Kyle, who was almost standing behind his dad’s hip, took a step closer to her. “Those are apartment buildings,” he said with some excitement. “How did you know?”
Sara crouched down to his level and looked him straight in the eye. “When I was a little girl, I had a nurse doll. I used our television stand as the hospital. Each shelf was a different floor.”
Grinning widely now, Kyle let go of his dad’s pant leg and stood even closer. “Do you want to play with me? We could rescue everybody and put the fire out.”
Before she said yes, she glanced at Nathan. He was the one making decisions, and she couldn’t take a wrong step.
He gave a tight nod.
She wished she could take Kyle into her arms and give him a hug, but she knew it was too soon for that. Also, if she did, she had a feeling Nathan might panic and pull Kyle away.
Instead, she said calmly, “I’d love to play with you.”
Kyle ran to the bookshelves and dropped down onto the floor, cross-legged. “You can drive the pumper truck. I like to drive the aerial. But I’ll let you climb up, too.”
In spite of herself, she laughed. “That’s good…because I don’t think I can get to the top shelf without using the ladder.”
Like any five-year-old involved in his own world, Kyle didn’t ask who she was, where she was from or why she was there. All he cared about was the fact she was playing with him.
They’d been rescuing pretend inhabitants in the bookshelf apartments for about a half hour when Nathan called from the kitchen. “Time for milk and cookies. Come in here to eat them, though. I wouldn’t want the crumbs to clog up your fire hoses.”
Apparently the man had a sense of humor when he interacted with his son, Sara thought.
Kyle called back, “In a minute, Dad.”
Suddenly Nathan appeared, only a few feet away. “I’ll set the timer.” He winked at Sara. “His minutes can get awfully long sometimes.”
Gazing up at Nathan—noticing again his muscular body; his angular face, which was interesting rather than purely handsome; the slight smile that was all for his son—Sara felt a tummy-twirling sensation. When she considered the situation, her joy at simply being here with Kyle, she dismissed it as excitement. However, when she was sitting in the rustic kitchen with its hurricane lamp chandelier above the round pine table, Nathan looming like a guardian angel between her and Kyle, she wasn’t so sure. Although all of her attention was focused on the five-year-old, when she reached for a napkin in the center of the table and Nathan did so at the same time, their fingers brushed and heat zipped up her arm.
He jerked away and so did she. But the sensation remained.
A little later, when she leaned forward to ask Kyle his favorite flavor of ice cream, her leg grazed Nathan’s. She shifted away, but apparently not soon enough. Warmth spread through her body so rapidly she thought the temperature in the house had gone up ten degrees.
Knowing Nathan would soon cut off her time with Kyle, she finished her cookie and wiped her fingers on her napkin. “Are you in kindergarten this year?”
Crumbs on his upper lip, Kyle shook his head. “Nope. Dad says next year will be soon enough. I’m gonna be homeschooled.”
She looked to Nathan for an explanation.
“I thought I’d hire a tutor. With Kyle’s asthma it might be best to keep him at home.”
“Just for kindergarten?”
Nathan shrugged. “We’ll see how it goes.”
She couldn’t keep the words from escaping. “Interaction with other kids is important.”
“So is his health.”
Biting her tongue, Sara reached for her glass of milk. She had no say in what Nathan did. No say at all. But she knew in her heart that protecting Kyle too much could be as serious a problem as not protecting him enough.
Lifting the cuff of his shirt, Nathan checked his watch. “Sara has a little bit of time before she leaves. Why don’t you show her your room?”
“I’d love to see your room. Maybe I could read you a story. Do you like books?”
“I like Dr. Seuss and Clifford. I even have my own Clifford. Come on, I’ll show you.” Quicker than lightning, Kyle scrambled off his chair and left the kitchen for a hall that must lead to the bedrooms.
Nathan pushed his chair back, stood, picked up the empty cookie dish and took it to the sink. The kitchen decor was light green and tan. The window above the sink was curtainless and void of a blind, giving an unobstructed view of the backyard. Sara had passed sliding glass doors that led out to a deck before she’d sat at the table. The wide, expansive lawn dotted with maples, sycamores and firs was inviting—for a young boy to practice pitching a baseball, or for a quiet walk to soak in the peace of nature. The sky was robin-egg blue today and cloudless. The tall firs reached up to it and were a dozen different shades of green. This was a beautiful place to raise a child. She just hoped