Reunited Hearts. Ruth Herne Logan

encouraged. Long moments later, a tiny click spelled success. “I did it!”

      “You did, clever girl. Good job.” Alyssa closed the door and motioned toward the playground with her head. “Ready?”

      “Oh, yes.”

      Excitement tremored her tone. In the bright sun, the shadows beneath Cory’s eyes seemed deeper, more pronounced, violet smudges against porcelain skin. But her nose wasn’t running any longer, and the cough had gone from chronic to occasional. Day-by-day she was regaining her normal strength and tone.

      Cory dashed across the crushed gravel, pigtails flying, her eyes on the tall, spiraling castle tower.

      Of course.

      Alyssa moved at a slower pace, watching Cory’s progress until the little girl’s saucy grin peered down from the wooden rail. “Look, Mommy! I’m way up here!”

      “You are. Good job, sugarplum. Now how do you plan to get down?”

      “Over the bwidge.”

      “Ooooo…” Alyssa nodded to show she was impressed. “The very wiggly, rickety bridge?”

      “Yes.”

      “Good luck.”

      “Fank you.”

      Alyssa grinned. Obviously the th sound needed tweaking as well. She watched as Cory tested the wood with one foot, the suspension bridge designed to wiggle and jiggle beneath busy feet. Gripping the handrails, Cory put foot after foot until she swung up into a turret on the opposite end. “I did it!”

      “Wonderful.”

      “Can you play wif me, Mommy?”

      “Sure.” Alyssa set the water bottle down, crawled through a space that obviously wasn’t designed for a woman’s build, and worked her way to the upper level through a series of tunnels. Just before the top, she called Cory’s name, teasing her.

      “Where are you, Mommy?”

      “I’m stuck.”

      Cory giggled.

      “I need help,” Alyssa continued, pumping desperation into her tone.

      Cory giggled again. “I fink you’re kidding me.”

      “Help.” Alyssa stuck a hand up through the tunnel, waving it wildly.

      Cory laughed out loud. “I will help you.” She scampered back across the bridge, grabbed Alyssa’s fingers and pulled. “Come on, Mommy.”

      Alyssa pretended to try. “Not working. I appear to be too big.”

      “Reawwy?” Cory tugged again, then approached the problem with all the innocence of a small child. “Mister Man? Can you help get my mommy out? She’s stuck.”

      Mister Man?

      Cory was calling a stranger for help.

      Alyssa wriggled through the last stretch of tunnel, but her capri pocket snagged a post. She had to wiggle back down to free the fold of material, then back up, thoughts of Cory calling out to a perfect stranger spurring her to fumble. “Cory.”

      “You need help?”

      No.

      Oh, no.

      She stared up into Trent’s face, a hint of humor softening the glare that had marked their initial meetings. “No, I’m fine, actually. I was just…” She tried to pull herself up and out of the tunnel, but the cuff caught once more. Biting her lip she wriggled down, undid the cuff again and shifted back up.

      Yup. Trent was still there, Cory alongside him. Her little girl tapped his arm. “Mister Man can help you.”

      Before Alyssa could protest, Trent caught her beneath the arms and pulled.

      The fact that she slid forward easily made him frown. She stood, shook her clothes into place, decided she’d never wear anything with cuffs again and faced him. “I wasn’t really stuck.” She nodded Cory’s way. “We were playing a game.”

      “But you were,” Cory protested. She grabbed Trent’s arm and stared up into his face, imploring. “I pulled and pulled, but I couldn’t get her out. You wescued her.”

      “Glad to be of service,” Trent murmured wryly. His glance scanned the tunnel and her hips. His lips twitched. “And it appears you may have been stuck for some time if I hadn’t answered the young lady’s call for help.”

      Great. Add fat to her list of daily problems because her girth was too wide to make it through a playground tunnel. “My cuff caught the edge,” she told him, not ready to concede a width problem. “And I was teasing her. I could have gotten out anytime.”

      “Uh-huh.”

      “Wight, Mommy.” Cory’s look of disbelief joined Trent’s. She stepped forward, her little face sincere. “It’s okay to ask for help when you need it, wight?”

      Wonderful. The kid was throwing her words back at her. Alyssa decided the high road offered a better tactical choice for the moment. “Right. And you did help me, but you’re not supposed to talk to strangers without Mommy, are you?”