“Christmas decorations,” Erin shot back, a little surprised that she could do polite and funny. “I get a little carried away.”
Lucas, however, didn’t appear amused. His eyes narrowed, searching her face as if he were looking for something. Or someone.
What did he see when he looked at her? The girl he’d claimed to have loved? Or one more mistake he’d made?
The air emptied out of Erin’s lungs as his fingers brushed against her hair. “Erin—”
Whatever he’d been about to say was lost in the high-pitched scream that pierced the air.
Not again.
Not now.
Lucas sprinted down the hall, vaguely aware that Erin was right behind him, already apologizing for something he knew wasn’t her fault.
He should have warned her this could happen, but he hadn’t anticipated being gone so long. And the truth was, he never knew when a dark memory would emerge and trigger another one of Max’s episodes.
The social worker had encouraged Lucas to give Max time to adjust to all the changes in his life. He’d gone through a lot for someone of his tender age, but he didn’t have the ability to process what had happened. Reality and imagination had a way of becoming tangled. The result was a waking nightmare for Max and a sleepless night for Lucas.
He rounded the corner and spotted Max bolt upright on the sofa, his small body rigid with terror, eyes wide and riveted on some unseen threat.
Erin’s soft gasp punctuated the air and Lucas remembered how he’d felt the first time he’d seen Max like this. The way he still felt when he saw Max like this.
He glanced at Erin to gauge her reaction. To his astonishment, she didn’t rush over, pick Max up and rattle off a bunch of questions that he couldn’t answer. She stopped in the center of the room, as if she trusted that Lucas knew what to do.
Yeah, right.
When it came to stuff like this, Lucas would have loved to defer to an expert. Unfortunately, there was never one around when you needed one. Max was stuck with a guy who knew more about four-year-old horses than four-year-old boys.
He lowered himself onto the sofa next to Max as casually as if they were going to watch Monday-night football.
“Hey, buddy.” Lucas didn’t expect a response. He’d learned that words couldn’t penetrate the invisible wall that separated them, but talking to Max made him feel better.
He slanted a quick look at Erin. She was watching them but her lips moved in a silent plea.
This was the second time he’d caught her praying. Erin’s faith had been strong as a teenager and it looked as if she’d held on to it over the years.
That made one of them.
Lucas felt a stab of envy that a close relationship with God had always seemed to come so naturally to her. Over the past few months, when he’d tried to get Max to safety, there’d been times he had wanted to call on God but figured he no longer had the right. He’d made a decision a long time ago to make his own way—it seemed a little hypocritical to ask for help when things got tough. Still, it was comforting to think that God might intervene on Max’s behalf because Erin was the one doing the asking.
Ignoring the dull ache from the stitches in his arm, Lucas carefully drew Max against his chest and waited. The only sound in the room came from the crackle and spit of the logs in the fireplace.
As if Max were a frozen statue coming back to life, Lucas gradually felt the thin shoulders relax. The rapid drumbeat of his heart began to even out.
“Lucas?” Max whimpered.
“I’m right here, buddy.”
“It’s dark.”
The fireplace cast plenty of light, but Lucas didn’t argue. He wasn’t sure if Max had always been afraid of the dark or if it had something to do with the fact that when Lucas found him, he’d been locked in a windowless room not much bigger than a closet.
Erin moved across the room, and Lucas assumed she was going to turn on another light. Instead, she reached down and plugged in the Christmas tree. Hundreds of tiny lights, in a rainbow of colors, began to wink in the branches.
Max hooked two fingers in his cheek and settled against Lucas’s shoulder, his gaze focused on the lights rather than the dark memory that had held him captive in its grip.
“Something sure smells good, Erin.” Lucas sniffed the air appreciatively. “Like…cookies?”
Erin caught on immediately. “That’s right. Gingerbread,” she said, her light tone matching his.
Max looked up at him. “Me and Erin maked ’em.”
Lucas felt the knot in his chest loosen. “I’ll bet they’re delicious.”
“I ate a tree with sprinkles,” Max informed him. “Erin eats the frostin’ with a spoon.”
“Is that so?” Lucas bit back a smile as color bloomed in Erin’s cheeks.
“Someone has to taste test it.” The concern in her eyes remained, but she reached out and playfully tweaked Max’s toes. “You can take some cookies home for your grandma and Aunt Mei. How about that?”
“An’ Jamie an’ Julie an’ Jessie?” Fear dissipated like a morning mist, unveiling a familiar sparkle in Max’s eyes.
“Ahh.” Erin looked at him in understanding. “He met Arabella’s triplets.”
“Yesterday.” Lucas winced at the memory.
For an entire week after his arrival, settling Max in and working out the details of his new job had been handy excuses to avoid his extended family.
He’d gotten good at dodging them until Mei cornered him in their mother’s kitchen with a message from his cousin, Arabella Michaels. It was time he “make the rounds” and introduce Max to his new family.
Starting with her.
Lucas had braced himself for that first official reunion with a member of his extended family, anticipating anything from awkward silence to outright hostility that he’d returned to Clayton so close to the deadline.
Instead, Lucas had been shocked by the warm welcome he’d received. Something had changed in his family but he wasn’t sure what it was. And probably wouldn’t be around long enough to find out…
“They’re sweet little girls,” Erin was saying.
“They’re trouble in triplicate,” Lucas muttered. “They were playing ‘wedding.’ If I hadn’t stepped in, they would have painted Max’s fingernails pink.”
Erin’s lips curved into a smile. “I’m not surprised, with Jasmine and Cade’s wedding coming up in a few weeks.”
