said.
“You have cars?” Kelsey asked, sliding down to the floor and then, on her butt, scooting over to Dawson. “I used to have some cars,” she told him. “Until my mom took them away because she didn’t think they were good for little girls to play with. Can I see your cars?”
Dawson didn’t even look her way. But he got up, went to the hall closet and pulled open the door to reveal the shelves of neatly stacked toys and games. Taking out his case of cars, he brought it over and dropped it on the floor in front of Kelsey. He then went back and grabbed the plastic track that Joe had bought him—a one-piece circle that stood on end beneath the bottom shelf—and carried that back, too.
He half dropped, half tossed it at Kelsey. It hit her knee and, with a startled look at Janie, the girl backed up.
Dawson picked up the track again, brought it close to Kelsey and dropped it a second time, this time falling down in front of her.
“Gah!”
Janie waited. Holding her breath, mostly.
Dawson sat, cross-legged, hands in his lap.
Kelsey reached for the case of cars, looking between Dawson and Janie. “Can I see them?” she asked when no one reacted.
Dawson’s nod was short. Succinct. And Janie had to restrain herself from laughing out loud.
Her boy was a sucker for a pretty girl. Who’d have thought?
* * *
WHERE BURKE MIGHT have found himself eager to be finished with Sunday afternoon’s appointment and have dinner—preferably at the Italian place and not at home eating a pork recipe he’d prepared twice that day—instead, he sat in Janie Young’s living room, chatting up the beautiful woman like he was on a date.
The turning point had come when Dawson had suddenly stood from his cars, grabbed Kelsey’s hand and dragged her down the hall—off of which he counted three doors. Assuming one was a bathroom, that left two for bedrooms.
“Most of his toys are in his room,” Janie had said as she’d watched the pair depart.
Her smile was full-on now. And he wondered if he’d ever seen a woman who looked so attractive while doing absolutely nothing to help herself appear that way.
He scooted down to the end of her dark brown leather couch. “You don’t have to sit on the edge of your seat,” he told her. “I don’t bite.”
Her legs looked longer than he’d remembered as she got up and walked toward him—folding them under her as she settled on the other end of the couch.
“I won’t let him monopolize her for long,” she assured him. “But this couldn’t have gone better if she wanted to get to know him.”
“She’s a sensitive kid,” Burke said, lowering his voice, though he didn’t think Kelsey could hear him while talking at the same time. She’d been conversing with Dawson nonstop since they’d left the room, though he didn’t see how she could understand any of the boy’s grunts.
“She seems very sweet.” Janie’s gaze was direct. Not shy at all. Unusual for someone so soft-spoken.
He was curious about her. In so many ways.
He nodded. “In some ways she’s old beyond her years.”
“I just don’t understand why she’s so taken with my son. I mean, my world revolves around him, but other people usually have to get to know him before they appreciate him—”
When her voice broke off, Burke wanted to know where the words had led her—someplace she’d chosen to travel to alone. He wanted to know badly. Not just with the curious interest of a stranger.
The idea—him wanting access to the inner workings of her mind—bothered him. As did whatever compelled him to be honest with her.
“She’s convinced I’m going to win the show,” he told her. They were competitors. Contestants going after the same prize. He wasn’t going to pretend otherwise. Or lure her into thinking he was forgetting that. “And so she wants to help you out in any way she can to soften the blow.”
“So she’s got plans to aid the other six contestants, as well?” She sounded mildly curious. Nothing more. And didn’t seem the least offended—or surprised—by his comment.
That kind of bothered him, too.
Which bothered him.
“No. Just you.”
“Just me? Why just me?”
“Because you’re local.”
She nodded. As though he’d answered all her questions. As though, if he didn’t keep talking, he’d lose what interest of hers he had.
“My wife was a chef.” He blurted what had already been revealed during his introduction the day before. And added, “Kelsey’s mom,” as if that wasn’t self-explanatory.
She nodded again. Seeming interested. But adding nothing.
“She died suddenly, unexpectedly, and Kelsey’s taken it really hard.”
Those gorgeous brows drew together and he could have sworn he saw an actual shadow cross Janie Young’s face. “I’m so sorry,” she said, the softness in her voice seeming to convey more emotion than yelling would have done. “I knew...the introductions yesterday and all...that you were a widower, but I had no idea it was recent. Or sudden.”
Sudden seemed to make it worse for some. His jury was still out on that one. During his residency he’d seen too many families whose lives were forever changed by debilitating long-term and ultimately fatal illness.
“It’s been almost two years,” he said. Needing her to know that he wasn’t so recently widowed made no sense to him.
Guilt surged. Just because he was familiar with its company didn’t mean he was at peace with it. Welcomed it. Or even handled it well.
A song started to play in the other room. Something about learning to brush your teeth. It was vaguely familiar.
Burke could hear Kelsey singing along.
“Because she’s been struggling, I wanted to take Kelsey on vacation over Thanksgiving. She insisted we stay home. That we cook a full dinner, using all of her mother’s recipes. And that we watch cooking shows all day.”
Janie nodded, a sad smile spreading across her face. “That’s when she saw Family Secrets.”
“She talked about Dawson all during dinner that day. Normally she focuses on the cooking, trying to take after her mother, I suppose. Anyway, she smiled when she talked about him. She doesn’t smile all that much these days.”
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