so intently it made her squirm. He looked stunned, shocked, and maybe there was a hint of recognition amid all the other things swimming in his eyes. It worried her.
Swallowing hard, she tugged her hand, but he didn’t let it go. “Um…It’s nice to meet you,” she said, wishing like hell that she could read his mind as she tugged her hand a little harder.
He blinked, glanced down at their hands, and let go quickly. “Sorry about that. You…remind me of someone.”
“Really? Who?”
His eyes were still dancing over her face. My God, she thought they might even be dampening. What the hell was with this guy? “Never mind,” he said. “It’s not important.” He tore his gaze from hers and looked at his son. “Bryan, say hello to Miss Slocum.”
Bryan looked at her. “Hi.” Then he turned to his father. “I’m going to get my MP3 player out of the truck.” He turned on his heel and marched back down the steps to the truck, where he took a few suitcases and duffels from the back.
“He’s not happy to be here,” Beth said.
“He’s had a tough year,” the stranger explained. “His mother and stepfather were killed over the summer. Plane crash. Then I had to uproot him from the West Coast and move him to Manhattan. He’s not dealing well.”
Those words wrapped themselves around Beth’s heart and squeezed. “His entire life has been stripped away from him,” she said, her throat tightening. “There’s no way to deal well with something like that.”
Josh was looking at her again. “Sounds like the voice of experience.”
She shrugged and lowered her eyes. His were too intense. Too filled with something she couldn’t name, and too intent on probing, on digging into her soul.
To change the subject, she said, “Maude, I always assumed you and Sam didn’t have any children.”
“Now why would you assume that?” Maude asked, fussing with the sleeve of her blouse.
“I don’t know. You never mentioned any kids, and there were no pictures around the house.”
“I really do need to get some photos put up,” she said, as if that explained everything perfectly.
Beth glanced at Josh, saw the way he was watching Maude, watching her responses to Maude’s explanations. He looked a little nervous.
“There was a death in your family over the summer, and you never said a word?” Beth asked.
Maude blinked. “Well, the family’s so estranged, you know, I never even heard about Bryan’s mother until a week ago, when Josh phoned me.”
“Kathy kind of cut my side of the family off after the divorce,” Joshua said.
Beth nodded as if it made perfect sense, when in fact it made none.
“Honestly, none of that matters,” Maude said. “All that matters is that they’re here now. Come from Manhattan to spend some time with me.”
“That’s nice, Maude.” Beth watched the boy, felt the pain coming off him in waves. She loved kids and felt an empathy for this one. Maybe because she, too, had been stripped of everything in her life. “Is he still in high school?” she asked.
“This is his senior year.” Joshua looked guilty now. “But I could barely get him to go when the semester started. He hated everything about Manhattan, but especially going to school there.”
“So what are you going to do?”
He shrugged, then faced her. “This parenting thing is like rocket science to me. I’m damned if I know what to do with him.”
“Beth can help with that,” Maude said. “She’s a teacher. You two sit down and chat. I’m going to get more cookies.” She went through the door and into the house without another word. The screen door banged.
Josh said, “So you’re a teacher?”
“I used to be.”
Josh sat in one of the wicker chairs, waving her to the other one. She glanced toward the young man, but he was sitting on the tailgate now, with headphones on.
“So why did you stop?”
She sent him a quick look. Was he a little too interested in her past? Or just being polite? “Needed a break. I still tutor, though.”
“Really?”
She nodded. “So how long are you going to be here?” she asked, turning the tables by asking questions rather than answering them. It was a skill she’d perfected over the past year.
“To be honest, I don’t know. It depends on a lot of things.”
He had a way of answering a question without revealing a thing. She recognized the tactic, because it was another one she’d grown deft at employing.
“Why is it Maude’s never mentioned you?”
He shrugged. “There’s been a rift in the family.” Then he met her eyes. “It’s kind of personal.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not a problem.” He looked toward his son again. “I wish I knew what to do about Bryan.”
“I could talk to him…if you want.”
He looked at her as if surprised. “Do you have kids, Beth?”
Jesus. The innocent question knocked the wind out of her. She tried not to let it show in her face, turning away quickly, just as Maude called for Joshua to come help her for a minute.
“Did I say something wrong?”
“Why don’t you go help Maude with those cookies? And tell her I’ll see her in the morning.”
Beth walked down the steps, but she didn’t take the flagstone path. She went out the driveway, pausing by the pickup to tie her shoe and pull herself together. It wasn’t Joshua’s fault, she told herself. He couldn’t possibly know her chance to raise her only child had been stolen from her because of some toy soldier with an itchy trigger finger eighteen years ago.
When she rose it was to see Bryan staring at her. She glanced back toward the porch. Joshua had gone inside. The porch was empty.
Bryan had stacked suitcases on the pickup’s tailgate, though it was completely unnecessary. “Don’t worry, my father has that effect on a lot of people,” he said.
She looked at him, then allowed a smile as she realized he’d witnessed her reaction to Joshua’s question, though he probably hadn’t heard the dialogue. “Then it’s not just me?” she asked.
“Nope.”
“That’s good to know.” She rolled her eyes and saw Bryan’s smile turn from polite to amused. “Your dad tells me you’re in your senior year.”
“Yeah. But I’m taking a semester off.”
She nodded. “What do you still need to graduate?”
“History, Spanish Four, English Twelve.”
Beth smiled a little. “I used to teach English Eleven and Twelve.”
“Used to? What, you don’t anymore?”
“I’m taking a semester off.”
He smiled at her, his eyes, and interest, sincere.
“Actually, more like a few semesters. I still tutor, though. Let me know if you want to get those English credits out of the way while you’re in town. Give me an hour a day and I’ll have you ready for the final by Christmas.”
“I doubt we’ll be here that long.”
“Then give me two hours a day and make it Thanksgiving.”
He