up, too.”
In spite of herself, she laughed. “That’s good…because I don’t think I can get to the top shelf without using the ladder.”
Like any five-year-old involved in his own world, Kyle didn’t ask who she was, where she was from or why she was there. All he cared about was the fact she was playing with him.
They’d been rescuing pretend inhabitants in the bookshelf apartments for about a half hour when Nathan called from the kitchen. “Time for milk and cookies. Come in here to eat them, though. I wouldn’t want the crumbs to clog up your fire hoses.”
Apparently the man had a sense of humor when he interacted with his son, Sara thought.
Kyle called back, “In a minute, Dad.”
Suddenly Nathan appeared, only a few feet away. “I’ll set the timer.” He winked at Sara. “His minutes can get awfully long sometimes.”
Gazing up at Nathan—noticing again his muscular body; his angular face, which was interesting rather than purely handsome; the slight smile that was all for his son—Sara felt a tummy-twirling sensation. When she considered the situation, her joy at simply being here with Kyle, she dismissed it as excitement. However, when she was sitting in the rustic kitchen with its hurricane lamp chandelier above the round pine table, Nathan looming like a guardian angel between her and Kyle, she wasn’t so sure. Although all of her attention was focused on the five-year-old, when she reached for a napkin in the center of the table and Nathan did so at the same time, their fingers brushed and heat zipped up her arm.
He jerked away and so did she. But the sensation remained.
A little later, when she leaned forward to ask Kyle his favorite flavor of ice cream, her leg grazed Nathan’s. She shifted away, but apparently not soon enough. Warmth spread through her body so rapidly she thought the temperature in the house had gone up ten degrees.
Knowing Nathan would soon cut off her time with Kyle, she finished her cookie and wiped her fingers on her napkin. “Are you in kindergarten this year?”
Crumbs on his upper lip, Kyle shook his head. “Nope. Dad says next year will be soon enough. I’m gonna be homeschooled.”
She looked to Nathan for an explanation.
“I thought I’d hire a tutor. With Kyle’s asthma it might be best to keep him at home.”
“Just for kindergarten?”
Nathan shrugged. “We’ll see how it goes.”
She couldn’t keep the words from escaping. “Interaction with other kids is important.”
“So is his health.”
Biting her tongue, Sara reached for her glass of milk. She had no say in what Nathan did. No say at all. But she knew in her heart that protecting Kyle too much could be as serious a problem as not protecting him enough.
Lifting the cuff of his shirt, Nathan checked his watch. “Sara has a little bit of time before she leaves. Why don’t you show her your room?”
“I’d love to see your room. Maybe I could read you a story. Do you like books?”
“I like Dr. Seuss and Clifford. I even have my own Clifford. Come on, I’ll show you.” Quicker than lightning, Kyle scrambled off his chair and left the kitchen for a hall that must lead to the bedrooms.
Nathan pushed his chair back, stood, picked up the empty cookie dish and took it to the sink. The kitchen decor was light green and tan. The window above the sink was curtainless and void of a blind, giving an unobstructed view of the backyard. Sara had passed sliding glass doors that led out to a deck before she’d sat at the table. The wide, expansive lawn dotted with maples, sycamores and firs was inviting—for a young boy to practice pitching a baseball, or for a quiet walk to soak in the peace of nature. The sky was robin-egg blue today and cloudless. The tall firs reached up to it and were a dozen different shades of green. This was a beautiful place to raise a child. She just hoped Nathan wouldn’t isolate Kyle in order to keep him safe.
“Thanks for suggesting he show me his room.”
“I thought you’d like to see it.”
“So I can take a mental picture of where he sleeps home with me?”
“Something like that.”
When Nathan turned toward her, their gazes met, and she almost felt as if the kitchen tilted a little. That was ridiculous. She was just hyperstimulated from meeting Kyle, from holding her own with Nathan, from wanting to remember every minute so she could treasure each one in her heart always.
“Sara, come on!” Kyle’s voice was enthusiastically shrill. “I want to show you my arrowheads.”
Breaking eye contact with Nathan, quickly gaining her equilibrium again, she hurried down the hall to Kyle’s room, knowing her time with him was limited.
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, Nathan impatiently checked his watch. He’d expected Kyle to be bored with Sara, or Sara to be bored with Kyle. He’d peeked into the room twice. The first time they were playing Candy Land. Sara had been seated cross-legged on Kyle’s bed, while Kyle knelt on the floor beside it, all rapt attention as they moved their board markers according to the colors on the cards they chose. The second time he’d checked on them, he’d been surprised to see Sara on the floor. Apparently Kyle had gone through his toy chest, showing her this and that. She’d fitted his monkey puppet onto her hand and was talking in a high voice, making his son laugh.
They were getting along too well. She was bonding with Kyle. If Nathan didn’t put a stop to this now, she’d want to come back. He couldn’t allow that.
This time when Nathan appeared in the doorway, she was sitting on the bed again, reading Kyle a story. Her melodic voice lifted and fell, and Nathan felt almost as mesmerized as his son.
That was ridiculous. Just as ridiculous as the awareness he felt every time Sara got within two feet of him. He was on pins and needles, wishing her out of his house. That was all.
The story Sara was reading Kyle wasn’t one of his usual favorites. It was The Velveteen Rabbit. Nathan had always considered the book too advanced for his son, but now he could see Kyle was enraptured by it—a story about a bunny loved so much it became real. Had Nathan also not pulled out that book to read at night because it would encourage his son to believe in the impossible?
The book finished, Sara closed it and saw him standing in the doorway. An expression so sad came over her face that Nathan actually felt sorry for her. Then he steeled himself against the emotion…against the compassion that would ruin what he’d built for himself and Kyle.
Colleen’s pictures sat on Kyle’s nightstand. What would she think about all this?
He pushed away that fanciful thought. “It’s time for Sara to go now.”
“Aw, Dad. Does she haf to?”
Although Sara looked as if she wanted to protest, too, she sat up straight. “I do have to go, Kyle. But it was a real treat visiting with you.”
“Can
