Since Zach was fascinated by airplane washrooms, he didn’t object. No doubt he was tired of sitting still. So was she. Her mother often said she was as fidgety at thirty as she’d been at three. She wasn’t far wrong.
An older woman who reminded Gwen vaguely of Aunt Bee from The Andy Griffith Show was already waiting her turn. She fussed over Zach, insisting he go ahead of her—“it’s difficult for them to wait at this age, isn’t it, dear?”—and asked him if this was his first time on a plane.
“I been on lots of airplanes,” he informed her. “My mama an’ me like to fly. We don’t like airports very much ’cause they won’t let you run, even if there is lots and lots of room. But we like airplanes.”
She smiled at him indulgently. “Are you going on vacation, or is this a family trip?”
“We’re going to see my dad. He lives in the mountains in a big house with a porch, an’ he likes little boys. My mama said so.”
“Oh, ah…how nice.” She gave Gwen a quick glance, her eyebrows raised. “I assume he’s talking about a new stepfather?”
Zach answered before she could. “No, he’s my dad. A private eye found him for us.”
The woman’s rather protrudent eyes bulged further. Fortunately the rest-room door opened just then. Gwen breathed a sigh of relief and chivvied her talkative son inside. Zach was blithely unaware there was anything odd about meeting his father for the first time at the age of four. She didn’t want some stranger’s attitude casting clouds over this visit, making him worry about things he couldn’t understand.
Not that Gwen herself didn’t worry. How could she not? Between her mother’s furious disapproval and the expectations Zach had built up in the past eleven days, she had plenty to worry about.
Her nervous stomach clenched tighter as she helped Zach refasten the snap on his jeans. Heaven knows her own expectations had been knocked sideways when she’d seen her son’s father again—expectations she hadn’t known she’d had.
The plane was descending when they emerged, and she had the dickens of a time keeping Zach halfway still through the landing process. Finally, though, they were off the plane and headed for the lower level, where they could claim their four suitcases. And one father.
Over Zach’s protests, she scooped him up onto her hip before stepping on the escalator. She’d read a horrible story about children whose clothing got caught in the treads….
“Do you see him, Mama? Is he here? Do you see him yet?”
“Zach, you have to be still or I’m going to drop you.” The tote was trying to slip off her shoulder. She didn’t have a hand free to anchor it, and her heart was pounding, pounding…. “Ugh,” she said, shifting him slightly. “I must be feeding you too much. You weigh two tons.”
He giggled.
Gwen looked over the top of his head. Waiting at the bottom of the escalator were two men. Two, not one.
Her face felt hot. Ben had brought his brother to welcome his son to the family—and that was good, that was wonderful. She was here because Zach needed his family—all of it. But it wasn’t what she’d expected. Why do I keep expecting things? she thought fretfully. It doesn’t do any good. I just trip over those stupid expectations every time.
Ben’s gaze was fixed on the boy in her arms. As the moving stairway carried them to him, a smile spread over his hard, square face. The man who waited with him neither moved nor smiled. His expression was every bit as intent as Ben’s. But his gaze was on her, not her son.
Gwen’s mouth went dry. “Zach,” she whispered. “Zach, that’s your dad waiting for us at the bottom. The man in the blue windbreaker.”
He twisted around to stare. The little arm around her neck tightened. “There? The big one?”
“Yes.” She swallowed. “The big one.”
The escalator deposited them on level ground. She stepped aside to let those behind her get off, then cleared her throat. “Zach, this is your dad. And this is your uncle Duncan.”
“The army uncle.”
“That’s right.”
Zach’s choke hold on her tightened. The boy’s blue eyes met the man’s brown eyes—met and held in the same straight-on way. Two male faces focused completely on each other, one of them large and hard, the skin weathered and shadowed by beard; the other small, soft and rounded, but with the same stubborn jaw and short, blunt nose.
“You’re my dad,” Zach whispered.
“Yes.” Ben’s throat worked. “Yes, I am. I’m so glad to see you, Zach. So damned glad.”
Zach nodded solemnly. “I’m dam’ glad, too.”
Duncan made a choked noise. “Ah…been a while since you were around kids, hasn’t it, Ben?”
“Yeah.” Ben’s eyes never left his son’s face. “Your uncle Duncan means I wasn’t supposed to say ‘damn.’ You shouldn’t, either.”
“Okay.” Zach squirmed around so he could capture Gwen’s face in his two small hands. “Mom, put me down. Put me down now. I’ll show my dad our suitcases. I bet he can carry all of ’em. He’s really big.”
Slowly she lowered Zach to his feet, stricken by a pang of separation so acute it was a physical ache. She wanted to scoop him up and run away, but it was already too late. “Keep hold of your father’s hand, Zach. Don’t be running off.”
He held up a hand, his face turned up to Ben’s in sunny confidence. “C’mon. Mom packed hunnerds of things. I brought all my army guys. We’re gonna stay with you for two weeks!”
“So I hear.” A large hand reached down and swallowed the little one. Ben glanced at her. “I won’t let him get lost.”
She nodded. “I’m not sure which carousel is ours.”
“I’ll find it. I know your flight number.” He looked down at Zach, his expression soft and grave. “I don’t know if I can carry hundreds of things. I might need some help.”
Zach giggled as they set off. “It’s all in suitcases. Do you have a dog?”
Gwen smiled. And swallowed hard. Dammit, she was not going to cry.
“Ben’s good with kids,” the man still beside her said quietly. “And he’s already gone on this one.”
“Zach’s good with everyone.” She gave Duncan a smile—and looked quickly away. Damn, damn, damn…
“I take it your flight was uneventful?”
“Aside from reading Green Eggs and Ham twenty times, yes.” What was wrong with her? Couldn’t she get anything right? She tried to pull her thoughts together, watching as Ben and Zach stopped at the first of the baggage carousels.
Ben hunkered down, putting himself at Zach’s level. Zach was chattering away. His clear voice carried enough for her to catch a few words—something about his army guys. Then he pointed at a blue suitcase. Ben stood and heaved it off the conveyor belt.
They were so delighted with each other. She couldn’t do anything to mess that up.
The man beside her spoke quietly. “The two of them look right together, don’t they?”
“Yes. Yes, they do.” Her body was humming to itself, making her feel so alive. Making her feel, for the first time in so long, very much a woman.
Stupid, treacherous damned body—this wasn’t the first time it had betrayed her. “We’d better catch up with them,” she said. “My luggage isn’t blue.”
Chapter 5
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