nothing to do but eat and grow.”
“They don’t have mouths. How can they eat?”
Stan turned to Ryan. “You’re kidding, right? Of course they have mouths. Look at this one. He’s grinning at you.”
Ryan chuckled. “Is not.”
Stan lifted one long, squirming worm and explained. “These first few segments hold the brain, hearts, and breathing organs. Did you know that a worm has five pairs of hearts?”
“Wow.”
Stan nodded. “The rest of the inside of an earthworm is filled with the intestines, which digest its food.”
“So all of that is belly?”
“Close enough. Earthworms eat soil and the organic material in it—like insect parts and bacteria.”
“Gross.”
“Right here’s the mouth, but it’s covered by a flap called the prostomium, which helps the earthworm sense light and vibrations, so it can find its way around. Tiny bristles, called setae, are on most of the earthworm’s body.”
Ryan gave him a skeptical look. “How do you know that’s the mouth end and not the butt end?”
“Simple. This is the end he led with when he was crawling. Now, wouldn’t you crawl head first, instead of butt first?”
Ryan grinned. “Yeah, I would.”
“All these worms mean you have good earth here. They aerate it and make the soil richer with their castings.”
“What are castings?”
Grinning, thoroughly enjoying himself, Stan said in a whisper, “Poo.”
Ryan started laughing—and suddenly Stan felt it, simple happiness, gratitude, and overwhelming tenderness. So much tenderness he felt wrapped in it, lending him a peace he hadn’t experienced in years. He turned his head and smiled at Jenna, standing behind him.
She wore a beige tank top and matching capris, with an oversized mesh tunic over the top. A floppy-brimmed straw hat shielded her face from the sun. Her long hair hung free to her shoulders. She looked . . . fabulous. Comfortable. Casual. Sexy.
And she had her heart in her eyes.
Stan narrowed his gaze on her face. “Have you been eavesdropping on our worm lessons?”
Her mouth curled, and more tenderness blanketed around Stan. “Fascinating stuff,” she teased. “How could I resist?”
Stan’s heart wanted to crumble. Witnessing her son’s happiness had given her great joy and had shifted her emotions for him from purely sexual to so much more.
Such a simple thing—sharing laughter with her son. And now she was soft and emotional, even tearful.
He stood, stepped closer to her, and whispered, “Hi,” then kissed her on the cheek.
Ryan stared wide-eyed.
So she’d understand, he said, “Ryan was entertaining me while you finished getting ready.” Without really thinking about it, he sought out the little boy, his palm to the top of Ryan’s sun-warmed hair. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to ask Ryan to go fishing with me some morning. He tells me that’s how it’s done, and being he’s an expert, I’m sure I could learn a thing or two.”
With Ryan’s loud squeal of excitement, Jenna’s lips quivered. “He’d love that,” she whispered with tearful gratitude that cut Stan like a sharp knife.
Damn, he wanted this woman to be happy, all the time, every second of the day. She deserved that, and by God, he’d see to it. Somehow.
He brushed her cheek with his thumb. “Me, too.”
Blinking away the tears, she said, “Ryan, let’s go get washed up and let Stan drink his tea, so we can get to the lake before it gets any later.”
Stan put his right arm around Jenna’s waist and his left hand on Ryan’s bony shoulder. Together, like a family, they crossed the grassy lawn to the back door of her house.
Rachelle waited in the doorway, watching them all with a sort of earnest serenity. Stan wanted to close them all out, just to regain his balance, but he couldn’t. It seemed intrusive, knowing what was in their hearts, but at the same time, he felt compelled to know even more, to understand them so he could get a toehold into their lives.
A flicker of concern struck him, and he found himself asking Rachelle about her plans for college as they entered the kitchen. Tea waited on the table, but he and Ryan washed their hands first. Over his shoulder, Stan glanced at Rachelle.
She didn’t quite meet his gaze. “I’m going to a state school here.”
The way she said that told him volumes. “What do you want to study?” He took a seat next to Jenna and sipped his tea. “This is good, Rachelle, thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She laced her fingers together over her middle. “Don’t laugh, but I’ll be an art major.”
“Now, why would I laugh at that?” Her self-conscious shrug prompted him to dig further. “What type of art?”
“Graphic design. I want to do ad layouts.”
Ryan said, “Like on cereal boxes.”
Rolling her eyes, Rachelle said, “Maybe some cereal boxes.”
Stan settled back in his seat. He had a feeling he already knew the answer, but he asked it anyway. “You doing the state school because you want to be close to home, or did you decide it was the best choice?”
Rachelle darted a glance at her mother. “I want to be close to home.”
Jenna reached for Rachelle’s hand and gave it a squeeze. “Actually, since she was fourteen, she’s had her heart set on SCAD—Savannah College of Art and Design. Now, we just can’t afford it.”
“And she don’t wanna leave me,” Ryan boasted.
Half laughing, Rachelle mussed his hair. “You would be missed, rat.”
True enough, Stan realized. Rachelle wanted to be close at hand to help her mother out with Ryan. A little awed, he acknowledged what an amazing young lady she was. “I have a feeling that whatever college you choose, you’ll do great.” But in his heart, Stan wanted her to have the college of her choice, not be limited by funds and responsibilities.
He wondered if he could manage that somehow. God knew he had more money than his simple lifestyle required. One look at Jenna, and he knew she was far too proud to take a handout.
Ryan guzzled his tea, fed up with idle chitchat when swimming, boating and fishing awaited. Nothing more was said on colleges. Stan assured Jenna he had everything on the boat that they’d need—life preservers, a tube and ski rope, sunscreen and towels.
Rachelle’s
