Terese followed him back into the living room, casting Hunter a faint smile when she glanced back to see if he was coming, too.
But he didn’t catch the smile because his eyes were too low. In fact, she thought they might have been on her rear end.
Had Hunter Coltrane been checking out her derriere?
She must have been mistaken, she told herself. But even so, she couldn’t help the little rush that went through her.
A little rush she tried to ignore.
They returned to the stairs Johnny had run down earlier and went up to the second floor.
“That’s the bathroom over there. Always knock first,” Johnny said, adding his advice by rote. Next he held one arm straight out and pointed a miniature index finger at another door. “That’s the guest bedroom for when somebody has a sleepover but doesn’t stay in the cabin.” The index finger moved slightly. “That’s my dad’s room.” Another move of the index finger. “And this one is mine!”
Terese couldn’t see into the guest bedroom because the door was closed, but she did catch a glimpse of a tall antique bureau and a king-size bed with a fluffy brown comforter in the room Johnny had said belonged to his father.
There was no time for more than that glimpse, though, as her nephew charged into his own room, clearly intending her to go with him.
“Come on, I’ll get the book for you to read.”
Terese went into the toy-cluttered room, but as she did, she once more cast a glance to Hunter. “You’re sure you don’t mind my doing the honors?” she asked, wanting to make sure she wasn’t stepping on any toes.
“It’s okay,” Hunter assured, leaning a single shoulder against the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest. He didn’t say any more to Terese but aimed his attention at his son once again. “The necktie has to come off for bed.”
The little boy obeyed without an argument, brought the tie to his father and then situated himself to one side of the bed so Terese could sit on the mattress beside him.
“Green Eggs and Ham,” Johnny said when he handed the chosen book to her. “My dad is tired of it but maybe you’re not.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever read Green Eggs and Ham, so it will be a treat for me.”
Reading to him was a treat for her, but the book itself had little to do with it. Just the fact that Terese was sitting there with her nephew, participating in his bedtime routine, was something more special to her than either Johnny or his father could know.
She was sorry when she reached the last page.
As she closed the book, the little boy slid under the covers and said, “You’ll be here tomorrow, right?”
“I will be,” Terese confirmed.
“We gots ranch work to do but I’m gonna show you our barn and our barn cat and all the stuff outside that I couldn’t show you in the dark.”
“I’d like that.”
She also would have liked to bend over and give him a good-night kiss on the cheek or the forehead, but, as with the urge to hug him earlier, she resisted. Instead she said, “I’ll see you in the morning, then,” and traded places with Hunter to stand at the doorway while he tucked Johnny in, roughed up his hair and gave him the good-night kiss she hadn’t been able to.
“Sleep tight, big guy,” Hunter said once the ritual was accomplished.
“Sleep tight,” Johnny answered, already sounding groggy.
Hunter switched on a small bedside lamp and then joined Terese at the door, turning off the overhead light.
She stepped aside to allow him to go out into the hall but once he had she couldn’t keep herself from craning around the doorjamb for one more look at her nephew.
A wealth of emotions swelled in her and she had an odd feeling that he might once again disappear from her life if she left him behind.
But of course that was silly. She knew she was going to see the little boy again the next day. Reminding herself of that finally made her able to tear herself away from the door.
Once she had, Hunter motioned toward the stairs without saying anything and waited for Terese to precede him.
Not until they were at the foot of the steps did he say, “So that’s our boy.”
Our boy. That pleased Terese. “I wasn’t sure if he knew exactly who I was,” she said then, recalling her introduction to her nephew.
“I didn’t go into the details,” Hunter answered, explaining what he had told Johnny about her.
She didn’t mind her nephew thinking of her as only a friend of the family so as not to confuse him and she let his father know that.
“This way,” Hunter said in conclusion, “he’s just happy to have company.”
There didn’t seem to be any more to say on that subject so Terese felt free to voice the other question she’d been anxious to ask. “What about the blood test? Does he have hemophilia?”
Hunter nodded. “’Fraid so. But now that we know, we can deal with it.”
“Which is why you didn’t want him running down the stairs,” Terese guessed.
“Mmm. I’m probably being overly cautious right now because this episode last week kind of shook me, but yes, he needs to be more careful than most kids since it’s so easy for the bleeding to get out of control if he’s hurt.”
“Well, at least now you know where you can get him a refill,” Terese joked.
Hunter had been very quiet since her arrival but that comment garnered her a smile. A warm smile that softened his features and made her stomach flutter.
Hunter seemed to realize they were still standing at the foot of the steps and nodded in the direction of the kitchen. “Can I get you something to eat or drink? Or shall I just show you the cabin?”
It hadn’t struck Terese until then that Hunter was hanging back, making her visit only for his son and not participating any more himself than was absolutely necessary. Now that she realized it, she figured he’d prefer showing her where she’d be staying rather than having to socialize with her.
Which was probably how it should have been anyway, she told herself through the wave of disappointment she knew was totally inappropriate.
So, again thinking to give him what she assumed he wanted, she said, “I’m fine. I mean I don’t need anything to eat or drink. You can just show me the cabin.”
He didn’t argue. He just picked up her suitcase and led her out the back door.
Terese paused a moment to look around when she got outside. An industrial-sized light on the barn illuminated the entire area.
The grounds were divided into the plain dirt patch and fenced-in paddock that were immediately in front and to the side of the barn, and a small, grassy yard like any suburban backyard. There was a jungle gym waiting to be played on beneath a tall oak tree, a brick patio complete with a barbecue, several trucks and toys here and there, and, about eight or nine feet off the south side of the house, there was, indeed, a log cabin.
“The cabin was the first house here,” Hunter informed her as he led her down the brick path that connected it to what was now the main house. “My great-great-great-grandfather built it when he bought the land and he and my great-great-great-grandmother and their three kids lived in it their whole lives. There’ve been a few amenities added over the years—you have heat and electricity and plumbing now—but most of it is original and rustic. Nothing like what you’re used to, I’m afraid.”
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