you need to finish cleaning your room.”
He frowned but obeyed.
“I wouldn’t harm your son,” Win said, also frowning. “Nothing wrong with being friendly.”
“Your father put a lot of pressure on me to sell, which didn’t sit well. I’m suspicious of your offer of help—for good reason. Maybe in time I’ll relax about it.”
“Good enough.” He touched the brim of his hat in farewell, then he was in his truck waving a final goodbye.
Mitch moseyed over. “Thanks.”
She crossed her arms. “Why the secrecy?”
“My dad will want me back working at the family business. I want a little vacation between jobs.”
She laughed. “This is a vacation?”
His smile was crooked. “I’ve always considered a change of scenery to be a vacation. Hard work doesn’t bother me. I wouldn’t know what to do with idle time, anyway. In that sense, this is a vacation.”
“As long as you’re not hiding from the law.”
“No, ma’am. Not me.”
She decided he’d used the word ma’am to show he was serious and accepted that at face value. “You must be pretty well-known, since you got out of sight even before you knew who was coming up the drive.”
“As I said before, born and raised here.” Mitch came up beside her on the porch, close enough to touch but not doing so.
“I can’t ask my son to lie about you. He may very well tell his friend Ben, and therefore his parents, since he may be going bowling with them. In fact, I’m sure he would say something.”
Mitch shrugged. “If it happens, it happens. It’d just be sooner than I want.”
“I’m done,” Austin said as he pushed open the screen door and joined them.
“Thanks, honey. Now tell me about the invitation.”
“Tomorrow right after lunch. Ben’s big brother will be there, too. He’s thirteen. Their mom’s gonna do errands then come back and get us.”
Mitch wondered why Annie was hesitating. Because she kept her son tethered? Was she afraid to let him go somewhere without her? Because she didn’t know this boy Ben’s family well enough?
Because with Austin gone, they would be alone?
Mitch decided that was wishful thinking on his part. Attraction didn’t mean action. They were adults. They could control themselves.
Unfortunately.
“Pleeease,” Austin begged.
“Okay.”
She’d barely gotten the word out when Austin leaped into the air, spun a hundred and eighty degrees and opened the screen door, all at the same time.
Mitch smiled at his exuberance. “He must love bowling.”
“He’s never been before,” Annie said, staring at the door. “I think he’s happy to be getting out of some work.”
“I get that. I always had to work, too. Not much downtime, even during summer breaks. I missed my friends a lot when school was out, even with five brothers and sisters.”
“Five? Wow. I have a brother somewhere. He stopped communicating about ten years after he had a big fight with our parents. I really miss him.”
“Do you see your parents?”
“Now and then. They’re still moving from town to town, job to job. At the moment they’re in Florida working as campsite hosts. Rick’s parents are AWOL, too. Austin’s never had a chance to know his grandparents. Every time you talk about your grandfather, I feel sad for Austin.”
“He was my best friend,” Mitch said, but not wanting to talk further about him. “Need help making dinner?”
“Is that code for I’m hungry?”
“Maybe.”
“I’ll get it started.”
“I don’t mean to rush you.” He grinned, belying his statement. He’d been hungry for a couple of hours.
She laughed and went inside. He followed, intending to use the bathroom then see if he could fix the chicken coop before dinner. As he walked past the computer, he saw the boy Austin was talking to via Skype. They were exchanging energetic dialogue about video games and levels and blasts. In the background a woman walked by. Mitch stopped and stared as she came closer to the screen and waved.
Stunned, Mitch backed up as she spoke.
“Hi, Austin! See you tomorrow.”
“Okay! Thanks for inviting me.”
“You’re always welcome, sweetie.”
“Something wrong?” Annie asked from behind him.
“That’s Ben’s mom?” he whispered.
“Yes, Marissa Mazur. Do you know her?”
Mitch faced her. He wondered whether it was an omen or just fate laughing at him. “Pretty well, yes. She’s my ex-wife.”
Chapter Four
Annie tried to remember what she knew of Marissa. Had she spoken of an ex-husband? Their conversations had taken place at the boys’ school, at PTA events and bake sales and back-to-school night, or when one of the boys was being dropped off or picked up. Brief conversations about nothing in particular.
“If she has a thirteen-year-old son,” Annie said, “you must have been really young when you were married.”
“Older than you were, I think,” he said. “You’re thirty and have a ten-year-old.”
“Touché.” She smiled, not taking offense.
“She was my only girlfriend. We’d started dating when I was a junior and she was a sophomore, then got married when I was twenty-one. It lasted a year.”
“So, she’s from around here? I got the impression she’d moved here fairly recently.”
“She moved away before the divorce was final. I heard she’d remarried and was pregnant. I hadn’t heard she was back. But then, I’ve been gone.”
“Does it bother you?”
“Let’s just say our divorce was not amicable. What were the chances that Austin and her son are friends?”
“I can’t ask Austin not to go, Mitch.”
“I wasn’t suggesting that.” He shrugged. “Well, what happens, happens. It only means my father would know I’m back. Doesn’t change anything.”
Annie studied him, wondering why he didn’t want to go home. He’d said he and his family weren’t estranged, but something was keeping them apart.
“I’m gonna work on the coop until dinner,” he said, then walked out the door.
She returned to the kitchen. She’d put up a large quantity of tomatoes last year and used one of her last jars now to make spaghetti sauce. While she worked, she considered Mitch’s comment that his divorce wasn’t amicable. Hers had been, or reasonably so. She’d wanted the farm and Austin, and Rick hadn’t fought her on either, hadn’t even asked for joint custody. He called Austin every so often, sent him “guilt” gifts, but otherwise had stopped being his parent.
When Austin was younger and less jaded, he’d cried a lot because of things his father did or didn’t do. Now he was more philosophical about it, especially once she’d convinced him it had nothing to do with him, but his