Brenda Mott - The New Baby

“Thanks,” she said, then realized she’d never finished answering Ian’s question. “About BJ’s—please don’t take it personally, but I’m going to have to say no.”

He held up one hand. “Hey, don’t worry about it.” He studied her a moment, then gave her a good-natured smile that made it all the harder to walk away.

Awkward silence stretched between them. “I’m home for the rest of the day,” Amanda said, gesturing toward the house. “If anyone gets a skinned knee or a bug bite or whatever, feel free to holler.”

“A nurse on call right next to our campsite.” Ian nodded, and his dimples appeared once more. “Beats the heck out of my first-aid kit.”

“See you.” Amanda lifted her hand in a wave, taking a step backward.

“Sure.” He waved, too. “Enjoy your day off. I’ll try to keep these hooligans at a dull roar.”

She watched him walk away. He looked back only once, and it was almost enough to make her wish she’d said yes to his invitation.

Why? she asked herself as she headed toward the log house. Why would you want to open yourself up to more pain?

She had no answer. But then, that was why she’d moved to Tennessee. To sort things out slowly and give herself space until she finally discovered a long-term plan for living the rest of her life. At the moment, she had no idea where she was headed. The only thing she knew for sure was that right now there was no room in her journey for good-looking men with dark eyes, or silly fantasies about what might have been.

Maybe there never would be.

IAN COULDN’T BELIEVE he’d actually worked up the nerve to ask Amanda out. Sure, it was only for a barbecue sandwich, but he’d blown it at that. He was far more out of practice at this dating business than he’d thought possible. Papaw would give him hell if he found out.

Ian lay in his sleeping bag, hands laced behind his neck as he looked up at the stars. Nearby, he’d pitched a tent in case of rain. Actually, he’d probably crawl inside before too long and zip himself in to avoid the insects and the possibility of snakes paying him a visit. But he liked watching the night sky and the lightning bugs. Around him, the boys were settled in their own tents, mostly quiet. A few smothered chortles came here and there, but as long as they kept it down, he’d let them have their fun. After all, that’s what being a kid and camping out with your buddies was all about.

Fun seemed to be a word that had slid further and further from his vocabulary as of late. Ian peered through the trees at the log cabin. He could see it pretty clearly in the light of the full moon. All of the windows appeared dark. But of course, he couldn’t see those on the other side. He’d only been in the house a couple of times when Olivia Satterfield was alive, and he didn’t really remember the layout. But it stood to reason the bedrooms were likely toward the back, which meant either Amanda was asleep, or she was in the living room in the front area of the house, out of his line of sight.

They’d parted rather awkwardly tonight. He hoped he hadn’t made her too uncomfortable by asking her out on a date. Maybe she had a boyfriend back in Colorado, or even a husband for all he knew. She’d said she had come here to work through some personal issues. People separated all the time, trying to get their heads on straight and make things right. He hoped that wasn’t the case with Amanda, because he wasn’t ready to give up on her yet.

He liked her. It was easy to see she was warm and had a sense of humor, and she seemed to like kids, even though something was a little off in that area. No matter what she’d said, he could tell she wasn’t overly thrilled with having the Cubs camped out here in her woods. She’d simply been too nice to say no. He’d overlooked the fact because he didn’t have the heart to disappoint his troop. But he wondered what lay behind her hesitancy. He was pretty sure it wasn’t just a matter of privacy.

With a sigh, Ian slid from his sleeping bag, still clad in his jeans and shirt. He never completely undressed when camping with the kids. There was always the chance of an emergency, and he didn’t like the thought of being caught in his boxers, barefooted. He’d left his socks on, and now turned his hiking boots upside down and tapped them against a rock to make sure no crawly creatures had decided to take up residence inside them. Feeling the need for a short walk, he slipped the boots on and laced them up, then headed down the path toward Amanda’s.

For whatever reason, he felt compelled to take another look at the house where she lay sleeping. To think about her awhile longer, and see if he couldn’t come up with a way to get to know her better, other than hanging around Papaw at the nursing home.

The sound of crying reached him as he neared the yard. Pausing, he listened and heard nothing. His ears must be playing tricks on him. But there it was again. Quiet sobs, coming from the creek bank. Ian hesitated, wondering if he should leave well enough alone, turn around, head back to camp, and mind his own business. But he couldn’t. It always pained him to hear a woman cry.

Though he could hear Amanda, he could not see her. The clouds had blown across the sky, covering the moon. But as he took a step, they shifted once more on the high breeze, and he spotted her sitting on the bank of the stream. Her back was to him, and her blond hair cascaded nearly to her waist. It was the first time he’d seen it down, rather than in a bun or ponytail. Legs pulled up to her chin, arms wrapped around her knees, Amanda had her head down, crying as if her heart had been shattered.

Torn once more between leaving her to her privacy and the urge to soothe her, Ian walked quietly up behind her. “It can’t be all that bad.”

Amanda swung around and let out a yelp. She clambered to her feet, which were bare, and swiped at her cheeks with both hands. “My God, you scared the life out of me.” Emotions in control, she stood staring at him, her expression caught between anger and embarrassment. She reminded him of an overgrown kid, in the faded jeans and pale yellow blouse she’d had on earlier, her feet and arms creamy white as though they hadn’t seen much sun lately.

“Sorry,” Ian said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing?” A look of concern laced with suspicion flashed in her eyes. Her gaze darted toward the house as though measuring the distance.

Surely she didn’t think he was going to pounce on her like some sex-starved maniac?

The sex-starved maniac that he actually was. He held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t shoot, I’m unarmed.”

She only looked at him. “I thought we’d said our goodbyes earlier.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her expression changing. “It’s not one of the boys, is it? Is someone sick or hurt?”

“No.” Ian shook his head. “Everyone’s fine. I couldn’t sleep, and I heard you crying. I thought I’d make sure you were all right.” He studied her. “You are, aren’t you?”

She sniffed and tucked her hair behind one ear. “I’m okay.” She shrugged. “Just a little homesick, I guess.” But her eyes betrayed her, telling him there was more to it than that. She looked at him like she wanted—needed—someone to talk to.

He nodded. “Yeah, Papaw said you’d come out here all the way from Colorado.”

“I did.”

“Mind if I ask what brought you here?”

“My car,” she said dryly, then winced. “Sorry.” Her smile was wooden. “Just a little humor to lighten the moment. I apologize for treating you like an intruder.”

“No problem.” He lifted a shoulder. “I guess in a way, I have been, what with me and the boys barging in on you.”