Like his late mother, Dillon didn’t possess a shy bone in his body, and Drew had the uneasy feeling that before this back-to-school picnic ended, his son was going to do a bit too much talking. Mostly about things he shouldn’t be talking about.
“It does look like plenty of folks are here today,” Drew replied to his son’s excited comment, while silently wishing he could think of one good reason to grab Dillon’s hand and hightail the both of them away from the gathering. But that would hardly be fair to his son. Nor would leaving give Drew the chance to be a dad for one day, at least. And being a real, hands-on dad to Dillon was one of the main reasons his parents had pushed him to move to this little mountain town. It had been their way of forcing Drew to take on the full responsibility of Dillon’s care.
“That’s gonna make everything better!” Dillon grabbed a tight hold on his father’s hand and tugged him toward the crowd. “Come on, Dad. I want you to meet my new friends.”
Drew and Dillon had only moved to Rust Creek Falls a month ago, yet already his son had made fast friends with many of his second-grade classmates and most of the adults who called Strickland’s Boarding House their home. As for Drew, he had a few relatives in the small Montana town, but no one he could actually call a close friend. But then, a doctor, especially an OB-GYN, didn’t have much time to socialize.
Who was he trying to kid? Drew wondered. He’d never been a people person. Even when Evelyn had been alive, he’d always been more than happy to stand in the background and let her do most of the talking.
But Evelyn wasn’t at his side anymore, he thought grimly. She never would be. And now it was up to him to step forward and be the kind of father that Dillon needed and deserved. Even if that meant mixing and mingling with total strangers.
Father and son had barely moved more than ten feet into the gathering when two young boys and a girl, all of them Dillon’s age, came racing up to them.
“Hi, Dillon!” the three children shouted in unison.
Grinning broadly, Dillon gave his friends a wave, then proudly began introductions.
“Dad, these are my best buddies.” He pointed to a towheaded boy with a face full of freckles and then to the other boy with black hair that looked as though it was just starting to grow out from a summer buzz cut. “This is Oliver and Owen. And that’s Rory,” he added, pointing to the lone female.
Even though Rory was wearing jeans and a T-shirt like her male counterparts, the plastic tiara crowning her long blond hair was an all-girl fashion statement.
Drew smiled a greeting at the trio. “Hi, guys. It’s nice to meet some of Dillon’s friends.”
The boy named Oliver immediately spoke up, “Dillon says you’re a hero. ’Cause you’re a doctor. Is that right?”
A hero? Far from it, Drew wanted to say. If he’d been anything close to a hero, his wife would be walking around this park with her son, rather than Drew. But to hear that Dillon had put him on such a pedestal filled him with gratification, even if it was undeserved.
“I am a doctor,” Drew answered simply.
Owen looked properly impressed. “Gee, can you sew up cuts and fix a broken arm?”
“Of course he can, silly!” Rory chided her friend. “Any ole doctor can do that.”
“My dad can fix anybody that’s sick,” Dillon boasted proudly.
“Dillon,” Drew gently admonished. “You’re stretching things a bit.”
“Well, almost anybody,” the boy amended.
Deciding that was enough medical talk, Oliver said to Dillon, “Wanta come with us? We’re gonna go gather some pinecones.”
“What for?” Dillon asked.
The black-haired boy rolled his eyes. “To throw at the dorky first graders, what else?”
Drew was about to tell his son he wasn’t about to throw pinecones at any child, much less one younger than him, when Dillon suddenly said, “Naw, I’m going to stay with my dad, so I can show him around. He doesn’t know many people yet and I do.”
“Okay. See ya later, Dillon,” Rory called as the three kids turned and ambled away.
“Dillon, this deal with the pinecones, I—”
“Oh, that was nothing, Dad. Oliver wants to act like he’s a tough guy, but he ain’t.”
“He isn’t,” Drew corrected his son’s grammar.
“That’s right. Oliver is just a big mouth. He wouldn’t hurt a flea even if it was biting him.”
Drew let out a heavy breath. At thirty-three, it had been many years since he’d been a boy of Dillon’s age. And even then he hadn’t been surrounded by a group of friends. He’d spent most of his time on the back of a horse, helping his father and brothers work their ranch near Thunder Canyon, a town just several hundred miles from Rust Creek Falls.
“I’m glad to hear it,” Drew told his son, then glanced at his watch. “Are you hungry? I’m sure there are some tables of food around here somewhere.”
“Oh, no, Dad! We don’t want to eat yet. Let’s walk around and look at the girls.”
Girls? He hadn’t noticed his son talking about girls. But that was probably Drew’s own fault. Before they’d moved to Rust Creek Falls a month ago, Drew hadn’t spent the kind of time a real father should spend with his son. For the past six years, since Evelyn’s death, Drew had been content to let his parents Jerry and Barbara deal with raising Dillon. But now, the move away from Thunder Canyon had forced Drew to become a hands-on father and he was beginning to see the task wasn’t easy.
“Look at the girls?” Drew asked drily. “Are you thinking you’d like to have a girlfriend?”
Dillon’s impish grin grew sly as he tugged on his father’s hand. “I have to find the right one first, Dad. Let’s go!”
Finding it easier not to argue the point, Drew went along with his son. With any luck, he thought, he’d run into someone from the clinic and strike up a conversation that would divert Dillon from his matchmaking game. Yet as father and son moved deeper into the crowd, Drew failed to spot one adult he knew well enough to greet, much less engage in a chat.
Realizing Dillon was yanking on his arm, Drew looked down to see the boy pointing toward two women standing in a group of people gathered in the shade of an evergreen.
“Oh, look at that one, Dad. She’s really pretty. And the one next to her with the red hair is, too. Don’t you think she’d make a great girlfriend?”
Totally bemused by his son’s suggestions, Drew glanced at the two women who’d caught his son’s eye. He vaguely recognized the one with long dark hair as Paige Traub and the redhead standing next to her as Marina Dalton. Both were elementary teachers at his son’s school.
“They’re both very pretty, Dillon. But both of those ladies are already happily married.”
Dillon tilted his head to one side as he cast his father a dubious look. “Don’t you want to be happily married, too, Daddy?”
Feeling as though he’d been sucker punched, Drew was forced to look away and draw a deep breath. Being only twelve months old when his mother had died, Dillon had no memories of her. He couldn’t know how much she’d loved her baby. He couldn’t remember how her hands had gently held and soothed him. Or how her soft voice had sung to him. No. Dillon couldn’t remember anything about the woman who’d given him life. But Drew hadn’t forgotten. If anything, he’d clung to her memory, while deep inside, the resentment of losing her festered like a sore that could never heal.
Bending down to his son’s level, Drew gently tried to explain. “Look, Dillon, your dad has already