family that did not include him.
His mouth thinned and he reached inside the car for her crutches. “Right.”
She had hurt him again, she saw. Guilt nudged her heart until she remembered the choice of having no family had been his alone.
“Ma-ma-ma!”
Ginny swung toward her daughter’s voice. Hallie carried the baby down the steps, then set her on the ground. Arms outstretched, Joselyn waddled as fast as her tiny legs would allow toward the car.
“Hey, pookie.” Holding the door, favoring her bulky casted leg, Ginny bent toward her daughter—and found herself dizzy. She set a hand to her forehead.
Luke was instantly at her side. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Hallie lifted the baby out of the way.
“Mam. Daee. Hoe.” Joselyn waved at Ginny and Luke.
“Yes, pooch, Mom’s home.”
Luke slipped an arm around her waist. His warmth nudged aside her vertigo.
“Let’s get you to bed.” Heedful of the porch steps, he slowly guided her toward the lighted doorway where her son had disappeared.
She wanted to see Alexei first. A crutch under each arm, she hobbled down the hallway to her “office” where she’d hooked up a computer within two days of their move. Her boy was a computer nut, pure and simple. She knocked on the door.
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah.”
He sat staring at some homework assignment on the screen. A small banker’s lamp chased off shadows. Bargain, tail windmilling, rose to sniff her cast. “Hey, girl,” she said softly to the dog. Stepping beside Alexei, she stroked his gangly arm braced on the chair. “Luke didn’t mean you couldn’t help me, honey. He was afraid I might be too heavy for you to support.”
Her son’s regard of the screen didn’t waver. “Yeah, I heard.”
Alexei’s snooty tone distressed her. Luke might not have wanted children while he was married to her, but his motives had evolved out of an obsession to overcome failure, not a dislike of kids. In all their years together, she’d never seen him treat a child unkindly. Not his niece, not the children of friends.
She strove for another tactic. “Luke isn’t used to children, Alexei.”
“Figures. He didn’t know how to carry Joselyn when she wanted him to pick her up. He held her like she was a wet, smelly dog or something.”
“Maybe she was—wet and smelly, that is.”
A small smile threatened. “Would’ve served him right.”
Ginny toyed with her wedding ring and decided to go with honesty. “A long time ago I was married to him.”
Eyes round as CDs, Alexei stared. “You were?”
“We used to live on the same street when I was growing up.” And I fell in love with him then. “But we didn’t really get to know each other until my sophomore year. Then we started dating and when we were in college we…got married.”
Puzzlement rushed her son’s brow. “How come you got a divorce?”
“A lot of reasons.” She traced his hairline with her thumb. “Which I will not go into, so don’t ask.”
She shifted her crutches to leave. Alexei scrambled out of the chair to assist. “Does that mean you still…you know, like him?”
Already he stood taller than her five-five. The moment she’d seen Alexei she’d loved his classic Russian features: thin, straight nose, high cheekbones, delft-blue eyes. And long dark eyelashes that paid homage to the sky.
“Yes,” she said cautiously. “I like Luke. But as a friend, no more.” Which was as truthful as she’d allow. Luke held a sorrow in her heart no one could touch. “Now, come read Joselyn a story before she goes to bed.” She hobbled toward the door.
Alexei rushed forward and stamped a hand against the wood. The pup barked excitedly. “Shush, Bargain,” the boy whispered. He looked at Ginny. “Is he, you know, gonna be around a lot?”
She considered. Between her and Luke lay an expanse of unresolved history, most of which Alexei had no inkling of, however, it was something she was ethically obligated to disclose if she meant to make Misty River home.
And her lost baby, Luke’s child, was not her son’s affair. Or even Boone’s, when he lived.
She tried another angle. “Son, we’ve barely been here two weeks. And then I break my leg by running into Luke’s car. Right now, he’s feeling very guilty about that.” And so am I.
“He should’ve watched where he was driving.”
“Honey, I shouldn’t have jaywalked.”
“He thinks he knows everything and everybody.”
She pushed the hair out of her son’s eyes. “In a town the size of Misty River, it’s not unusual for everyone to know everyone else. Most have grown up together. Some families have lived here for several generations.”
“Great, now they’ll all know our business. I don’t want people knowing our business.”
People, as in Luke. She studied Alexei’s frown. “When we lived in Charleston, our whole block knew each other, son. Remember the parties we used to have at Thanksgiving and Christmas?”
“That was different. People were friendly there.”
More so than Luke, she imagined, usurping Alexei’s right to assist her into the house. “Give him time,” she said gently. “He’s not a bad man.” She glanced at her casted leg. “So far, he’s the only one who’s come to our aid, driving the car home with the groceries and helping Hallie. And—” she gave Alexei a stern eye “—helping you and Joselyn.”
The boy’s mouth turned down. “I don’t like him. Or this town or the school. Stinks.”
Ginny’s internal antennae rose. “What’s going on at school, honey?” Was he being teased about his handwriting? It had happened in Charleston. Another reason she’d been glad to leave.
“Nuthin’.”
“Kids not friendly?”
“Some are. Some are snots. Why’d Dad want us to live here, anyway? Why can’t we move back to Charleston?”
“Are you saying we should let folks scare us off?”
As she anticipated, his eyes flinted. “No way.”
Leaning in, she kissed his ear. “Thought so.”
On Ginny’s porch, Luke stared up at the night and its spangle of ten trillion stars.
He’d survived bath time with Miss Josie-Lyn.
Large wet spots mottled his shirt and chinos, soap had caught in his eye and his hands smelled of baby. She’d damned near drowned him, and scared the bejesus out of him with her water-wing fish antics in that slick tub.
When he’d left the bathroom thirty minutes later—a giggling Joselyn running naked ahead of him, the pup ahead of her—he’d nearly slipped and cracked his nose on the door. Next time, dumb ass, don’t forget to mop up the floor with the bathmat after drying the squirming, shrieking mite.
Next time. Right.
It hadn’t endeared him to Alexei when he’d growled at the boy to do the mopping while Luke chased the kid’s streaking sister through the house.
Huh. And Ginny figured she could care for the kids alone, on crutches. Hell, with two legs—which endured a daily six-mile run—he’d discovered