lie. It came to her like manna from heaven. Swinging Christie into her arms, she laughed, “Not ‘new’ name, sweetheart, nickname.” She grinned wryly at Mac. “We had a talk this morning about the names we use being short for our given names. Apparently, she got things a little mixed up.”
But Christie’s little brow was still lined in confusion, and her rosebud lips were opening. Before she could breathe another syllable, Erin peppered her face and neck with noisy kisses that started Christie squirming and shrieking at the top of her lungs. “And now that you have a bed, Lady Jane,” she teased over the noise, “it’s time for your nap.”
“I’n not Wady Jane!”
“Shouldn’t that be your new nickname?”
“No!”
“Okay,” Erin agreed over the pounding of her heart. “I like the old one better anyway.”
When her daughter’s giggles had dissolved into a sparkling smile, Erin faced Mac again, praying desperately that he believed the performance he’d just witnessed.
He seemed to.
“If you need to reach us at Amos’s, use the intercoms. There’s one in my room, one at the desk in the computer room, and one just inside the great room. Just press the button and speak.”
“I’ll do that, thank you.” But as he climbed inside the old blue truck and drove off, she knew she wouldn’t. There was no point in giving him an opportunity to ask more questions.
Easing Christie back a bit, Erin released a lung-clearing sigh and touched the tip of her nose to her daughter’s. “Okay, chatterbox, let’s get a sip of juice and visit the potty, then take that nap, okay?”
“Are you ezausted, Mommy?”
Erin smiled wanly. “You have no idea how exhausted I am, precious girl.”
She considered having another talk with her about their new last name, but thought better of it. To tell her again that it was a secret that only they could know might confuse her all the more—and might invite yet another knee-buckling announcement. As the old adage went, it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.
Fifteen minutes later, with Christie curled warmly against her and softly snoring, Erin stared up at the ceiling from Mac’s bed. Varnished pine tiles in various sizes and shapes formed a lovely mosaic overhead and met smooth, pine plank walls, just as they did in the rest of the house.
They were in. They’d passed the test. They had a job and a home until Amos no longer needed them. And Christie… Gazing down at her slumbering child, Erin felt a rush of emotion that brought tears to her eyes and thickened her chest. Christie was happy and secure, now. There were no longer any signs of anxiety or fear. No furious thumb sucking, no cries in the middle of the night. She stroked her daughter’s glossy hair, smoothed back several damp strands from her temple and cheek.
Children should never be afraid.
Between household duties and keeping Christie entertained, Tuesday morning and afternoon flew by smoothly. The only glitch happened at breakfast when Mac walked into the kitchen, fresh from his shower in a hunter-green oxford shirt and snug jeans. But he only stayed long enough to shatter her composure, tell Amos to be ready at one o’clock for his appointment, and say goodbye. The butterflies that had gathered in Erin’s stomach left through the same screen door.
It was nearly six o’clock when Amos shuffled into the living room to his recliner and the evening paper, and Erin started the dishes. She’d pushed two vintage, chrome and red-vinyl kitchen chairs together so Christie could stand beside her at the double-bowl sink and “help.”
Christie was butchering a nursery rhyme and dumping water from a plastic cup to a metal pan when Mac walked up behind them, nearly soundless in his stocking feet. He slipped his coffee cup into the frothy soap bubbles, and his warm arm grazed Erin’s. “Supper was delicious,” he murmured. “Thank you.”
Chills of awareness drizzled from the nape of her neck to the soles of Erin’s feet. Like a second shadow, the heat emanating from his body warmed her side and back.
“You’re welcome. I figured I couldn’t go wrong with chicken.” She hazarded a brief glance over her shoulder at him. He was standing so close, she could count every whisker in his end-of-day stubble, detect the faintest hint of a musky aftershave.
Her gaze rebounded to the plate she was washing. “The two of you left so quickly this afternoon, I didn’t have time to suggest a menu.”
“We eat anything,” he returned, settling a hip against the cabinet. “We’re not fussy.
“Still, you could have had a choice. What do you prefer?”
As she rinsed the plate and stacked it in the drainer to her left, Erin glanced at Christie. The front of her daughter’s pink-and-white shirt was drenched, and water slopped over the side of the pan as she stirred “water soup” with a big plastic spoon.
“Since Amos’s stroke, we’ve been trying to eat meals that are a little healthier.” He laughed softly, and his warm breath somehow carried to her neck. Or maybe she just imagined it. “Which only means,” he continued, “that I bought a bunch of those TV dinners with less fat and more vegetables.”
“I saw them in the freezer. I can serve those for lunch if your granddad likes them. I could also look for some reduced fat recipes—” a convenient thought struck her as she finished “—on the Internet.”
In time, she’d planned to ask a favor of him, but now that she had an opening, there was no point in putting it off. She hoped she wasn’t too early with the request.
Swallowing, she rinsed their silverware, placed it in the drainer’s cup and turned to face him. The sheer height and breadth of him still took some getting used to. He had to be six-two without his boots, seven full inches taller than she was.
“I have a laptop with a modem,” she began hesitantly. “But I won’t be here long enough to make subscribing to an Internet provider worthwhile. I was wondering if—”
He seemed to read her mind. “No problem. You’re welcome to use the computer in my office.”
“Thanks. Do you have any objection to my e-mailing a friend from time to time? I’ll pay any charges, of course.”
“There won’t be any. I have a local server. Just let me know when you want to use it. I’ll type in my password.”
Feeling like a child asking permission to do something wrong, Erin nodded her acceptance, then summoned a shaky smile. “Not to press the issue, but if you have a moment later, the sooner I dig up some recipes, the healthier you and your granddad will be eating.”
“Sure. I’ll come over after I bring in the horses and get Amos settled for the night. Probably around eight. He usually naps on the way home from PT, but he didn’t today.”
“Great.” She wouldn’t abuse his generosity. But she was afraid to use the phone or regular mail to contact Lynn, and after all her help, her friend needed to know that she and Christie were okay and settled somewhere new.
Thoughts of Lynn brought back the reason they were running, and an involuntary chill moved through
