For Hannah, he told himself, although in truth he knew he would be doing it for Katie. And for the woman with the lovely blue eyes who seemed to be working so hard to provide for herself and her daughter.
As a pickup and a panel truck pulled up to the curb in front of his house, Caleb went out to meet the workers, his mind already racing with plans for the very special tree house he’d build for a very special little girl.
“No, Keith, I don’t think it’s a good idea. Maybe another time.” Erica twisted the phone cord around her thumb as she spoke to her brother.
“That’s what you always say,” Keith protested. “It would be good for Hannah to come over and spend some time with her cousins. We never get a chance to spend any time with her.”
“Her birthday is in a couple of weeks, and I’m planning a big party. Of course you and Amy and the kids are invited. We can all visit then,” Erica replied.
“Erica…” Keith sighed. “Never mind. Just let Amy know what time the party is and we’ll be there.”
Erica said goodbye to her brother, then hung up the phone with a frown. Every so often Keith or Amy called and invited Hannah over to play, or to spend the night, or to go to the movies with them, and each time Erica declined on behalf of her daughter.
Erica feared that Hannah wasn’t strong enough yet to spend time with Keith’s three rambunctious children. Accidents happened, illnesses were passed from one child to another. It was simply too big a risk for Hannah.
She moved to the kitchen window and looked out to the backyard.
Hannah was there, digging in the little patch of her garden. She’d come in earlier, eaten an apple, then carefully picked out the seeds and run back out to plant them. Stretched out on the ground next to Hannah, Peaches watched her mistress with interest.
The evening sun was still unusually warm. Although it was only the first of June, it had already become unseasonably hot.
Beyond where Hannah was digging in the garden, Erica could see the huge tree in Caleb McMann’s backyard. Yesterday Caleb had worked to build a platform in the perfect cradle of branches. Today a wall had been erected, much to Hannah’s delight and Erica’s consternation.
For the past two days, the air had been filled with the banging of hammers and the buzz of saws, both from inside the big house and outside where Caleb worked. She still couldn’t believe he was actually building a tree house for Hannah. It just didn’t make any sense.
She finished washing the last of their supper dishes, then stepped outside the back door. “Hey munchkin, how are you doing?”
“Okay,” Hannah replied, waving the child-size hoe in the air. “I’m getting all the weeds away so everything will grow big and strong.”
Erica nodded and eased down on the multicolored chaise longue. The evening warmth instantly produced a pleasant lethargy and she closed her eyes, able to hear the sweet music of Hannah’s voice as she talked to her growing vegetables.
Erica sighed, for the moment at peace with the world. With the approach of sunset, a tiny breeze had kicked up, alleviating the intense heat of the day.
Hannah’s voice became lulling white noise as sleep teased at the edges of Erica’s consciousness. It had been a long day and talking to her brother always unsettled her.
Her relationship with Keith had been strained for so long. Erica sighed and gave in to the healing warmth of the sun. She didn’t want to think about Keith now. She didn’t want to think about anything.
“Hey, neighbor.”
The familiar deep male voice jarred her out of her drowsy state. She kept her eyes firmly closed, tension instantly tightening relaxed muscles. Maybe if she pretended to be asleep, he’d go away.
“Mommy, look who came to visit.” With little fingers, Hannah pried open one of Erica’s eyelids. “See, Mr. Man is here.”
Caleb McMann, her own personal version of Mr. Rogers in the neighborhood, stood holding a tray with three tall glasses of what appeared to be pink lemonade.
However, Mr. Rogers would never appear shirtless, nor would he look as good as Caleb did at the moment. Caleb, with his expanse of tanned, muscled chest and a smattering of dark chest hair, banished all sleepiness, all pretense of relaxation.
This man is dangerous, a tiny voice whispered in the back of her head. He was temptation to all the things Erica had put behind her, all the emotions she’d sworn she’d never feel again. He was a man to be avoided at all costs, a man who could make her remember things better left forgotten.
What was he doing here? Why did he seem so intent on being friendly with her? What was he doing popping in and out of her house, fixing sinks, building tree houses, bearing donuts, then lemonade? What did he want from her?
She sat up, deciding it was definitely time to explain to Mr. Rogers in no uncertain terms that she wanted him out of her neighborhood.
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