the security of Kelly’s arms. Their eyes met and held until the toddler lowered his head against Kelly’s breast.
Something shifted in James’s chest, flooding him with an intense need to protect and something else he wasn’t sure he wanted to examine. “You should have told me before you left.”
“I didn’t know then.” She stifled a yawn.
He caught Kelly’s elbow and steered her to a chair, her arm fragile in his hand. “Let’s sit down where we can talk, before you fall asleep on your feet.”
Kelly sat on the edge of the chair. “I’m sorry. I’ve studied hard the past two weeks, even pulled several all-nighters. I loaded the truck yesterday after my last final and drove straight through from College Station to Willow Grove.” She tried to hide another yawn behind her hand. “I’m really, really tired, but I had to tell you.”
“Look, we’ve got some things we need to talk about, but you can barely keep your eyes open. Why don’t we go to my place? You can sleep for a while, then we’ll talk.” It would give him some time to think this whole thing through. After he cooled off.
She stood and blinked several times, as if focusing was difficult. “No, there’s so much to explain, so much I need to say. Just let me go splash some cold water over my face.”
He caught her arm when she tried to pass him. “Kel, I’ve already waited a couple of years. I reckon I can wait a while longer.” Maybe by then he would have regained control of the old feelings that had suddenly resurfaced. It was almost as if she’d never left. Only, he knew she had.
And now he knew she had also betrayed him.
The child began to fuss, and Kelly kissed his brow. “Just a second, sweetie, and we’ll leave.” She gave James an apologetic smile. “There’s a hotel not far from here where Will and I can get a room.”
“There’s no need for that,” he said, wondering at her reluctance to go home with him. Maybe it made her feel uncomfortable to go back to the place where they’d made love. “Look, Kel, you don’t need—”
“Thanks, but I can’t impose on you and your, uh, roommate.”
“Roommate?” Why would she think he had a roommate? He’d never had one before. “You care to explain that?”
When the child began to squirm, she shifted him to her other hip. “I assume you have someone living with you, James, that’s all.”
“Someone? You mean a woman?”
“No, James, I meant a tractor,” she said, her lips turning up in a grin that wavered, then slipped away as her eyes settled on him. “Of course I mean a woman.”
He had no intention of telling her he had only gone out twice since she’d left. Both times he had known five minutes into the date that it wouldn’t work. Because neither of the women had possessed Kelly’s quick wit or her sassy mouth. And neither had made him feel the way she did. “No, Kel, there’s no one.”
“Oh.”
“So will you go home with me now?”
When she didn’t answer right away, he said, “Come on. I’m not the big bad wolf. I’ll behave.”
Despite struggling to keep her eyes open, she smiled. “You forget I know you.”
“Can’t blame a fella for trying.” He lifted the restless child from her arms. Funny how holding Will seemed almost natural. He chalked it up to holding Cal’s daughter, Jessie, on more than one occasion. But this was different. This was his son.
He’d missed out on so much. As bad as he hated to admit it, he’d missed her while she’d been away at vet school. He’d missed the way she’d always pestered him, how she’d dragged stray cats and dogs to the clinic during off time and how she’d restored order to his disorderly life. But that was before she’d run out on him. Before this unthinkable deception.
James could see Kelly was exhausted. Her clothes hung on her as if she’d recently lost weight. She’d always pushed herself until she dropped, forgetting to eat, functioning on very little sleep.
As he led her outside, he circled his arm about her waist to steady her. She was so thin he could have spanned her waist with his hands. Half-asleep, she paused beside him while he locked the clinic door.
James noticed the slump of her shoulders, as if she bore the weight of the world—but then, Kelly always had. The sun low on the horizon revealed dark shadows beneath eyes that had once sparkled with life. Lines of exhaustion bracketed lips that used to smile without effort.
Her keeping the child a secret angered him, but his immediate concern was her welfare, because, as usual, it looked as though she’d taken care of everyone except herself.
The struggling child in his arms proved there was a side to her he didn’t know—a side capable of harboring painful secrets. For the time being he’d have to be content to know that by this time tomorrow he would have answers.
“Kel, you’re not in any shape to drive. Get in and scoot over. I’ll drive your truck and come back tomorrow to get mine.”
She gave him a smile that slid into a yawn. “I see you’re still as hardheaded as ever, James Scott, but I’m too tired to argue. You can drive, but take it easy. I’ve got Matilda in the horse trailer.”
“You still hauling that broken-down nag around?”
“She’s family.” Kelly leaned against the pickup’s fender. He hurried to steady her and lowered the boy to the ground, careful to see the child had his balance before he lifted Kelly and settled her inside the truck. When Will began to fuss, James picked him up and walked to the passenger’s side where he strapped the toddler into his car seat. He found a cup with a top and a built-in straw in the seat and stuck it in his mouth.
James circled her truck and horse trailer. Both had been junkers five years ago when Kelly had first come to work for him and his partner, Cal, at the veterinary clinic. They still were.
After checking the trailer hitch, he opened the driver’s door and paused. The end of Kelly’s long braid hung over her shoulder. Wild tendrils of gold had escaped the uneven plait and danced in the warm May breeze carrying the smell of a nearby hay field through the open windows. His hands itched to smooth the strands back into place.
So many times he’d thought of her. He had set out more than once to find her, but each time had come back empty-handed. Now it was as if she’d never left. As if everything was the same.
Except for the child.
And the lie.
After moving a blue notebook from the seat to the floor, James eased her over to sit between him and the boy. Reaching across her, he hooked her seat belt. Awareness swirled around him, beckoning him with her sweetness. He set his jaw, determined to ignore the familiar scent imbedded in his mind. He needed to keep a clear head, something he’d never been able to do around her, until they hashed things out.
He put the truck in gear and eased out the clutch. As he pulled away from the clinic, his attention on the trailer behind him, Kelly slid closer to him, her head nuzzling his shoulder.
James
