sweaty bodies. His and hers. Tangled sheets. An explosion of—
What she needed to think about was the swimming pool the plumbing had created in the laundry room.
“The washing machine.” Her breath caught in her throat, making her voice sound husky. Hardly an appropriate reaction when discussing a home appliance. “The connection has sprung a leak. Ray was supposed to—”
“Show me.”
Mentally chastising herself for mentioning her late husband in a critical way, she led Logan to the laundry room off the kitchen. She told herself if Ray hadn’t been so busy with his second job, he would have fixed the plumbing. But deep inside she knew that was a lie. He’d never been good around the house. She’d had to beg to get a new garbage disposal installed. The paint was peeling on the outside of the house, but Ray had never been interested in sprucing up the place. Only the garden, with rosebushes and beds of annuals, looked nice. That had been her own doing. She’d sunk a shovel into the dirt herself, added mulch and whatever else it took to make flowers bloom. Ray hadn’t seemed to notice.
Just as he’d stopped noticing her.
Logan leaned over the back of the washing machine. “You’re right. Looks like the hose has developed a split and the clamps are corroded. I’ll need some parts from the hardware store.”
“I can pay—”
“No, I’ll take care of it. It’s the least I can do.”
His odd tone sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine. “Why is it the least you can do?”
He didn’t meet her gaze. “I was on the roof with Ray when he fell. I owe him…and I owe you.”
Janice’s stomach knotted on that news. She hadn’t asked the details about Ray’s death, hadn’t wanted to know. And didn’t want Logan here out of obligation. But she did want him here. His presence pervaded the house with a new energy, a force that was more than simply filling the silence that had been troubling her. He radiated strength of character. Competence. And a subtle sexual power she couldn’t remember experiencing before.
The uncomfortable knot tightened in her midsection, and she couldn’t find the words to respond to his comment. Instead, she said, “I have to go pick up Maddie from kindergarten in a couple of minutes.”
He shoved aside the pile of towels she’d used as a dam. “Leave this Johnstown flood to me. Once I get the parts, it won’t take long to fix.”
She met his gaze, his eyes a deeper hazel than usual, almost brown, and unreadable. Or at least she didn’t want to translate the message she saw there for fear she’d be wrong and make a fool of herself.
“It won’t take me long to pick up Maddie. I’ll be back in just a few minutes. The tools are in the garage if you need them.” Janice fled. She’d never thought of herself as a coward. But she couldn’t describe her flight in any other terms.
At some very basic level, Logan frightened her. Or more accurately, her reaction to Logan scared the bejeebers out of her. She’d never felt this way about any man, including Ray, with hot and cold shivers racing across her skin, the confusion that should be limited to inexperienced adolescents. She’d been a married woman for almost ten years. Such nonsense, so many raging hormones, should have been well behind her.
Minivans didn’t usually burn rubber. But Janice wheeled out of the driveway so fast the tires squealed. Within two blocks she slowed, realizing she’d never be able to outrun her own wayward thoughts.
Junipero Serra Elementary School was a relatively new one, a sprawling one-story complex with two big play yards. Because of population growth, however, the school district had added four trailers for additional classrooms and there was talk of developing a new school on the north side of Paseo del Real to take the pressure off existing facilities. Taxpayers weren’t thrilled with the idea.
Janice parked the van and walked toward the separate building that housed two classes of kindergartners. Smiling, she acknowledged other mothers who’d come to pick up their children, some of them pushing strollers or holding the hand of a toddler. Regret slid through Janice’s chest at the thought she’d never have another baby to hold in her arms. Thank God Maddie had come along despite Ray’s insistence that one child was enough.
The adjacent play yard for the kindergarten children had one corner blocked off with a yellow tape where a three-foot-deep construction pit had been dug to install a new piece of play equipment. Vaguely, Janice wondered if that bit of construction wouldn’t have been better and more safely accomplished during the summer vacation. A yellow tape, like those used around crime scenes, hardly seemed strong enough to keep out curious children.
Like a cork on a bottle of champagne popping, the classroom door flew open and a stream of five-year-olds burst free. Maddie was in the middle of the swarm. She made a beeline for Janice and flung herself into her mother’s arms.
“Mommy!” she sobbed.
Kneeling, Janice caught her daughter. “What is it, sweetheart? Did you hurt yourself?”
“Uh-uh.” She shook her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed and tears tracked down her cheeks.
“Then what—”
“Hello, Mrs. Gainer.”
Seeking an explanation for her daughter’s distress, Janice looked up at Miss Sebastian, the kindergarten teacher. Her youthful complexion and pert ponytail made her look as if she should still be in high school, not a second-year teacher.
“I told the students this morning about Daddies’ Day in our classroom next week. I like to involve their fathers as much as I can in the children’s education. I’m afraid that’s what upset Maddie.”
Janice drew a painful breath.
“My daddy’s dead.” Sobbing, Maddie mashed her face against Janice’s shoulder.
“I tried to explain that grandfathers or uncles would be welcome, or any man who is special in their lives.”
Standing, Janice lifted Maddie, and the child hooked her legs around Janice’s waist. Her heart was breaking for her daughter. She hadn’t realized Maddie’s grief was still so raw. She was such a happy child, but now it was obvious the wound had only healed on the surface. Down deep, she was still hurting. Janice should have realized a month wouldn’t be nearly long enough for her children to adjust to such a drastic change in their lives.
“I’m afraid our family is all in Missouri,” Janice explained.
“Quite a few of the children don’t have a father at home, or their father works at a job where he can’t get off. Maddie won’t be the only child without someone here that day. I’m sorry.” Despite her youthful appearance, Miss Sebastian looked sincerely apologetic. “It had slipped my mind that you’d lost your husband so recently.”
“We’ll work out something. Maybe she can bring his picture—”
“No! I want my daddy!”
Pursing her lips, Janice hugged her daughter more tightly and fought her own tears. “Let’s talk about this at home, honey. Okay? Logan Strong is there fixing our washing machine.”
Maddie sniffled. “’Kay.”
Janice gave the teacher a weak smile. “She’ll be all right.”
“I am sorry—”
Nodding, she carried Maddie out to the van. No doubt this would be just one of a long list of adjustments she and the children would have to make over the coming months and years. But they were strong. All three of them. They’d come through this just fine. Janice would see to that.
BY THE TIME Logan returned from the hardware store, Janice’s van was back in the driveway. He parked out front and walked to the side entrance, carrying the supplies he’d purchased to repair the washing-machine hose.
The