“She’s buyin’ that pig for her little girl, Uncle Rick.” Katie grabbed the pig and returned it to Penny. “She’ll like it,” the sprite promised, pigtails bobbing. Then she leaned on Uncle Rick’s arm and yawned. “Is it time to go home now? I’m tired.”
“Well, darlin’, I’ve almost finished my list but now Kyle’s wandered off.” The man heaved a sigh that said better than any words could that he, too, was weary and more than ready to leave. “Let’s go find your brother.”
“May I help you look for him?” Penny wouldn’t have offered her help to a total stranger except that she’d been lost in a store once when she was four, and she hated the thought of another child going through the angst she’d suffered.
Also, although it was almost 10:00 p.m., Penny, like everyone else in Tucson, didn’t relish going back out into the late June heat wave that had enveloped the city for two straight weeks. She’d only lived here about fourteen months but she’d quickly discovered that the desert’s extremely high summer temperatures made shopping at night common for most Tucsonans. Added to that, her underperforming A/C made returning to her home less appealing.
“What does Kyle look like?” she asked.
“Like me. Only he gots short hair.” Katie grinned at her. Then with a sudden whoop of “There he is!” went racing away from them down the bread aisle, pigtails dancing, pink sandals slapping against the tile floor, her bright pink sundress fluttering around her tanned legs.
“Thanks for the offer of help,” the man said with a smile. “I think we’re good now. Hope your daughter likes that.” He jerked his head toward the pig she still held then quickly strode after the pair.
“I don’t have a—” Penny was talking to herself. “Daughter,” she finished with a grimace as she dropped the toy. When it had joined its friends, she resumed pushing her cart, which, unlike the cowboy’s burgeoning one, held only two tomatoes and a head of lettuce. Thanks to the encounter with Katie and Uncle Rick, Penny shopped for the rest of the items on her list while mourning her lack of family.
When will that ache go away, Lord?
With a sigh for what couldn’t be, she checked off the last item, added an impulse purchase of cashews and hazelnut coffee beans then pushed her cart to the checkout line. Since the line was long she picked up a magazine to peruse. She was studying an article about a celebrity’s sixth pregnancy when she felt someone watching her.
Penny glanced over one shoulder. The same man stood in line behind her. He held the little girl in one arm, her dark head snuggled into the crook of his scarred neck as she slept, her hand squeezing the pink pig. The man’s other hand guided a cart piled high with groceries. Nestled between two gallons of milk and a bag of shiny red apples, a sleeping boy sat hunched over, arms folded on the handles of the cart, his head resting on them, chubby fingers wrapped around a bright white whale.
The heart-wrenching photo moment brought tears to Penny’s eyes and revived the pang of yearning she constantly fought to quell. This man had what she craved. Family. Loved ones. Somebody to cherish, to be cherished by.
Uncle Rick had what Penny constantly prayed for but had never received.
“Seems like everybody’s shopping tonight, doesn’t it?” he said with a friendly smile that barely moved the damaged skin on his face. “I’m Rick Granger. I guess you’ve already met one of my kids.”
His kids? But the little girl, Katie, had called him uncle.
“Penny Stern,” she said quickly.
“You decided not to get the pig for your daughter,” he said with a glance at her cart. “Smart lady. I’ve been conned into buying a pig and a whale.” His rueful smile brushed over the twins like a caress. “My only excuse is that I couldn’t help it. They kind of reach in and squeeze the ‘no’ right out of you,” he said fondly. Then he looked up. “How old is your daughter?”
“I don’t have a daughter. I don’t have any children. I’m not married.” Penny almost groaned out loud. Why did you have to tell him all that? Are you so desperate for a family you’ll talk to any guy with kids in the grocery store?
“You don’t? But I thought Katie said—” Rick stopped then shook his shaggy dark head, which Penny noted was the same color as the kids’. Her attention was snared by the rueful expression now flickering through eyes as brown as Katie’s. “I should have known, I guess, because sometimes they make up stuff.”
“Oh, no, Katie didn’t make up anything,” she assured him. “I was looking at the toys and she probably assumed—”
Startled by the cashier’s loud “Next!” Penny blushed as she cut off her explanation, slid her cart to the counter and began setting her groceries on the belt.
“She assumed?” the man prompted.
“That I was a mom. I’m actually a kindergarten teacher.” Why she felt compelled to explain the details of her life while her bill was tallied was a mystery to Penny. But it didn’t stop her. “I like to keep abreast of the marketplace of kids’ toys.”
“Ah.” Rick stood waiting as she paid. Suddenly realizing how much she’d talked to a man she didn’t know disconcerted Penny. She felt a little nervous as she gathered up her grocery sacks. She was ready to leave when she noticed his struggle to hold Katie and unload his purchases.
“May I help you?” The offer was out of her mouth before she could stop it. When he nodded she decided she could hardly retract. Penny set down her sacks and began removing the items from his cart. Out of habit she placed them in categories; cans first, boxes next—many of which were varieties of cookies, she noted with a frown and then scolded herself for her interest.
Maybe the kids’ aunt can’t bake.
She arranged meat and then dairy—she had to gently shift Kyle to get the milk but thankfully he remained asleep—then added the produce and at last the cart was emptied.
“There you go.”
“Thank you very much.” Rick held up each child’s hand with fingers still clutched around their toys so the cashier could scan them. It was only as he swiped his credit card that Penny realized she was staring and that the cashier had noticed.
“The parking lot’s kind of rough.” It was a lame attempt to cover her interest in the little family but some inner need to help made Penny offer, “Would you like me to steer your cart so Kyle doesn’t wake up?”
Hearing the cashier’s snicker made Penny wish she’d simply walked away. She must sound desperate and yet something about this little family drew her.
Rick was apparently oblivious to both the cashier’s amusement and Penny’s inner turmoil because all he said was “Thanks.”
Penny shifted her two bags into his cart then pushed it through the automatic doors and across the heated pavement, trying to match his long strides though her wedge-heeled sandals and shorter height made that difficult. She huffed a sigh of relief when he finally stopped beside a shiny black truck.
“Well, thanks for your help,” he said with a grin. “Again.”
But Penny remained frozen in place, her gaze captivated by his tender expression as he slid sweet little Katie into a car seat and tenderly belted her in. When she stirred momentarily, he pressed a kiss against her brow, waited for her to settle then went through the same process with Kyle. He treated the children as if they were precious cargo, not as if he was in a hurry to get home and shove them into bed. He loved them.
“So, uh, thanks a lot for your help.” Rick gave Penny a funny look when she didn’t move. With a frown then a shrug he turned his back and began storing his groceries in the truck.
The sound of the truck box