Suddenly Family. Christine Flynn

buddy,” he called, forcing that tension down for the child’s sake. “How’s it going in there?”

      “Do I hafta get out now?” came the little boy’s reply.

      T.J. blinked at Sam’s back and tried to focus on what he was saying to Andy. Something about rudder flaps, she thought, but little registered. The way he’d so abruptly changed the subject made it feel as if he’d just slammed a door in her face.

      Not at all sure what she had done, she was trying to figure it out when the distant drone of an airplane filtered in with the breeze. In a matter of seconds the sound intensified, reverberating through the building, then faded off as the plane passed, banked and set itself down on the runway.

      “That’s Zach,” Sam said, appearing to note the tail numbers of the E & M craft taxiing off the runway. Wanting to see what was going on, Andy crawled to his knees on the seat. “I was sure Chuck would get here before him.”

      Sam seemed to be talking more to himself than to the child who now asked if another plane was coming soon.

      All T.J. cared about was getting out of there before they were joined by anyone else. Feeling awkward and uneasy, she moved to where Sam shadowed the cockpit door.

      “Come on, Andy,” she murmured, edging in front of Sam’s solid-looking chest. “It’s time for us to go. Mr. Edwards has things he needs to do, and we don’t need to be in the way.”

      Andy clearly didn’t want to leave. There were too many new things here for him to see. Though disappointment made him hesitate, he dutifully put the Game Boy back from where he’d seen Sam take it and held his arms out so she could lift him to the ground.

      Andy’s tennies hit the concrete with a faint squeak. Turning, she automatically took her little boy’s hand before glancing up at the man towering over her. Something like caution shadowed his features, along with a fair amount of the reserve she was feeling herself.

      “It’s Sam,” he corrected, frowning at her turn toward formality.

      “Then thank Sam for letting you sit in the plane, Andy.”

      “Thank you,” came the child’s sweet reply. He smiled then, the dimple in his cheek as deep as a cherry pit. “It was way cool.”

      A smile involuntarily twitched at the corner of Sam’s mouth. “Way cool, huh?”

      The child’s head bobbed, but Andy’s attention was already being diverted to the plane that had taxied to a stop near the hangar. The circular gray blur of the propellers slowed to reveal three still blades.

      “Well, we’d better get going,” T.J. said quietly, heading around Sam with her son in tow. “I’ve kept you long enough.”

      A muscle in Sam’s jaw jerked. “You haven’t kept me from anything.”

      She shrugged, offering a smile that looked uncomfortable at best. “Your partner is here, and we need to get home and feed the animals.” With the graceful sweep of her hand, she motioned toward the open end of the hangar. Dusk had already robbed the sky of its color. “It will be dark soon.”

      Sam’s only response was a nod. He hadn’t meant to be rude when he’d walked away from her moments ago. He knew he had been, though. He also knew he had offended her in the process, but he’d had no idea how else to handle her question. He had no intention of opening a vein for this woman. Or anyone else, for that matter. And that’s what it felt like he would be doing if he were to acknowledge to anyone else the void inside him. So he let her go with a wave to her kid and swore silently to himself as he watched them walk away. From her polite reserve after he’d killed the light in her eyes, it was as clear as rainwater that she’d crawled inside a shell.

      He’d liked her a whole lot better when she was being feisty and straightforward. She seemed far less vulnerable that way.

      The knowledge that he’d been the one who’d caused her to withdraw kicked him square in the conscience as his partner walked inside. All she had done was let him know she understood how lost and alone a person could sometimes feel. Just because he didn’t care to share that understanding didn’t mean he couldn’t have handled the situation with a little more finesse. After all, he still needed her to watch his kids.

      “Hey, Sam. That was T.J. wasn’t it?”

      “Yeah. It was.”

      “That must have been one tough first lesson.”

      His partner of thirteen years strode past the loaded cargo dolly with his log book in one hand and pure speculation carved in his face. Zach McKendrick was a regular guy. The best, as far as Sam was concerned. He was also an excellent business partner and one of the best bush pilots in the entire northwest. The strapping, ex-jet-jockey didn’t make a bad brother-in-law, either.

      “What makes you think the lesson was tough?”

      Scratching his jaw, Zach shrugged. “It’s not like her to ignore a person. I know she saw me, but she kept going anyway. She usually asks about Lauren. Makes small talk, you know?” His shrewd eyes narrowed. “She seemed awfully anxious to get out of here.”

      “She has animals she needs to feed.” Later he might consider that he’d truly screwed up his best prospect for temporary child care. Now he just wanted to do something…physical. “Do you have anything to unload?”

      “The mail from the outer islands. Are you changing the subject?”

      “Yeah,” he muttered and grabbed an empty dolly. “I am.”

      Curiosity arched Zach’s eyebrows. “Why don’t you want to talk about T.J.?”

      “Because she’s not taking the lessons.” That was part of it, anyway.

      “Does that mean she won’t be watching Jas and Jenny?”

      That was another part of it. “I don’t know yet. I haven’t had time to come up with anything else to barter with.”

      Considering the way she’d withdrawn from him, the bigger problem was whether she’d be willing to barter at all.