conversation.
“Is it taken care of?” She pulled a first-aid kit from the cabinet over the stove.
“They’ll be out in an hour. They wanted to call the police to write up an accident report.”
Jenna swallowed and waited for him to tell her how he’d responded to that. Accident. She hadn’t really thought about that. Her boys had caused an accident. She pulled out the chair and sat down, stretching her legs.
“I’m so sorry. You really could have been hurt.”
“Your boys could have been hurt.”
She nodded. “I know. The rule is that they don’t go down the drive. They’re usually very good boys.”
“I’m sure they are.” He picked up the glass of tea. “I’m going to need to rent a car.”
“Not around here. And I want to finish talking about the accident report. You’ll need to let them call the county so you can get this covered on your insurance.”
He drained half the glass of tea in one gulp and set it down on the table. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Just like that, you’ll take care of it?” She bit down on her bottom lip, waiting, because it couldn’t be this easy. “My boys caused an accident and major damage to an expensive car.”
“They didn’t really cause the accident. I saw their dog backing into the road….”
“And that caused the wreck. They were holding the leash of the dog that backed into the road.”
“Wow, do you plan on making this difficult?”
“No, I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“You can give me a ride down to that Godfor—”
She lifted her hand and shook her head to stop him. “Watch your language.”
He shook his head. “Great, another Will.”
“Excuse me?”
“My manager, Will. Did he hire you to keep me in line?”
“Sorry, no, you’re a big boy and you’ll have to keep yourself in line. Now let me put a Band-Aid on your cheek. You’re bleeding.” She motioned to the chair as she stood up and opened the first-aid kit. “Sit.”
“I’m fine.”
“I can’t have you get an infected cut on my watch.”
The boys hurried into the room. They must have heard her mention that he was injured. They were wide-eyed and impressed as they stared at the cut.
“It’s gonna need stitches,” Timmy informed their victim, peering up, studying the wound.
“Do you think so?” Adam asked, reaching to touch the cut.
“Don’t touch it, just sit.” Jenna pointed again to the chair.
He sat down at the kitchen table, giving her easier access to his face. His eyes were closed and when she touched his cheek he flinched.
“That hurts. What are you putting on it, alcohol?” He pulled away from her fingers.
Her fingers stilled over the small cut and he opened his eyes, looking at her. She glanced away. “I’m cleaning it. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”
He looked at the boys. Jenna glanced over her shoulder and smiled at them. They were cringing, twin looks of angst on their suntanned faces.
“It’s really bad,” David whispered.
“Does it need stitches?” Adam asked them, not her. As if they were the authority.
The boys were nodding. “It has a lot of blood.”
Timmy and David stepped closer.
She shook her head. “Don’t listen to them. It won’t even leave a scar.”
She pulled the backing off the Band-Aid with fingers that trembled as she put the adhesive strip in place. She felt like a silly teenager watching the star football player from across the dining room of the local Dairy Bar. She’d never been the girl that those football players dated.
“Finished?” He touched his cheek and pushed the chair back from the table.
“Finished. Now, if you want, I’ll drive you to the camp.”
“That sounds good. I’ll make a call to the rental company and have a car delivered.”
Settled, just like that.
With Adam “Big Mac” Mackenzie behind her, she walked out the back door. As she headed for her truck, she walked slowly, hoping he wouldn’t notice if she stumbled.
But what did it matter? She was who she was. And Adam Mackenzie was passing through.
The boys were climbing into the backseat of her truck squabbling over who sat on what side. She smiled, because that’s who she was, she was Timmy and David’s mom. But as she opened her truck door, she caught Adam Mackenzie’s smile and she was hit hard by the reality that she was more than a mom. She was obviously still a woman.
Chapter Two
Adam slid into the old truck and slammed the door twice before it latched. He glanced sideways and Jenna Cameron smiled at him, her dimples splitting her cheeks and adding to her country-girl charm. He knew a dozen guys that would fall for a smile like that.
He knew he’d almost fallen when he looked up as she dabbed salve on his face and caught her staring with brown eyes as warm as a summer day. She’d bitten down on her lower lip and pretended she wasn’t staring.
The boys were buckled in the backseat of the extended-cab truck. They were fighting over a toy they’d found on the floorboard. He wondered where their dad was, or if they had one. Jenna Cameron: her maiden name, so she wasn’t married. Not that he planned on calling her. He had long passed the age of summer romances.
The truck, the farm, a country girl and two little boys. This life was as far removed from Adam’s life as fast food was from the restaurants he normally patronized. He kicked aside those same fast-food wrappers in the floor of the truck to make room for his feet. A toy rattled out of one of the bags and he reached to pick it up.
“This should stop the fighting.” He reached into the back and the boys stared, eyes wide, both afraid to take the plastic toy. “I’m not going to bite you.”
They didn’t look convinced. Jenna smiled back at them. He would have behaved, too, if that smile had been aimed at him. The smaller twin took the toy from his hand. Another look from Jenna and the boy whispered a frightened, “Thank you.”
The truck rattled down the drive and the dog ran alongside. When they stopped at the end of the drive, the dog jumped in the back. What would his friends think of this? And Morgan—the woman he’d dated last, with her inch-long nails and hair so stiff a guy couldn’t run his fingers through it—what would she say?
Not that he really cared. They’d only had three dates, and then he’d lost her phone number. How serious could he have been?
“You grew up not far from here, right?” Jenna shifted and the truck slowed for the drive to his camp. He couldn’t help but think the word with a touch of sarcasm. It was the same sarcasm he typically used when he spoke of home.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Are you staying with family?”
“Nope.” He rolled his window down a little farther. He wasn’t staying with family, and he didn’t plan on talking about them.
He’d taken his father into the spotlight he craved, and now it was over. Retirement at thirty-three, and his father no longer had the tail of a star to grasp hold of. They hadn’t talked since Adam announced his retirement.