“When was the last time you played on a swing?”

Amanda laughed in spite of herself. “I don’t know. Longer ago than I care to think about.”

Before she could protest, Ian pulled the swing backward, lifting her feet off the ground. Her stomach gave a sharp jump at the sudden motion, and she tightened her hands on the chains, letting out a little yelp.

Joyful anticipation rose within her as the swing arched backward once more and Ian’s hands came firmly in contact with her back, sending her skyward. When the swing hit a point so high it bounced on the chains, Ian gripped her waist as she came back down.

“Whoa!” Ian slipped his arm around her, lost his balanced and pulled her off the swing. The two of them tumbled to the ground.

Amanda froze, realizing what an intimate position they were in. Ian smelled wonderful, looked even better and she didn’t want to let go or get up.

Dear Reader,

Did you ever wish you could outrun your troubles and start your life over in a brand-new place with brand-new people? Sort of a “do over” as Mitch and Phil said in the movie City Slickers. That is precisely what Amanda Kelly decides to do when a tragic accident turns her life upside down. She leaves Colorado, tucks herself away in her granny’s log cabin in the woods of east Tennessee and loses herself in her work as an R.N. at the local nursing home. It doesn’t take long for her to become attached to one of her residents—Zebadiah Bonner. At eighty-seven, Zeb’s mind is still sharp, his sense of humor fully intact. But most of all, Zeb is a romantic at heart, and he’s determined to see his grandson, Ian, find the right woman. Zeb’s pretty sure that woman is Amanda. Now, if he can just get her and Ian to see things his way, he might have a chance to become a great-grandfather.

Ian is haunted by his own ghosts, and while he finds himself falling for Amanda, he’s not so sure she’s the woman for him. Still, he longs to get to know her better. Why is she hiding in the hills of Tennessee? And what will it take to draw her away from her self-imposed sentence of seclusion? Amanda is captivated by Ian’s sexy Southern drawl and the fact that he’s a man with a big heart. But his way of thinking has her running scared. Come with me, dear reader, on the journey that Ian and Amanda take. I hope you’ll find it pleasant, and that you’ll smile a little at the creative license I’ve taken in writing of the activities in the lives of the senior residents of Shade Tree Manor. Both the nursing home and the town of Boone’s Crossing are purely figments of my imagination.

I love hearing from my readers. You can e-mail me at BrendaMott@hotmail.com. Please reference the book on the subject line. Thank you, and happy reading!

Brenda Mott

The New Baby
Brenda Mott

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This book is dedicated to my dad, who is my brainstorming partner and knight in shining armor. And to my mom, who calls me her rodeo queen and believes I can do anything. I love you.

With special acknowledgment to the health care professionals, law enforcement officials and women who have been in Amanda’s shoes who all gave generously of their time to answer my many questions. Any errors are my own.

Contents

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

PROLOGUE

AMANDA KELLY AWOKE in excruciating pain. Overhead, bright lights invaded her vision even before her eyelids fluttered open, creating a dizzying pattern of flashing dots. She blinked and tried to focus as the sounds of the hospital emergency room flooded her ears.

“What’s her BP?”

“BR 90 over 50, pulse 140…”

The rapid-fire words slipped through her mind like water. She tried to move, but her arms were too heavy. Weighted down. Her neck…her head…anchored in place. Panic seized her as she struggled with the oxygen mask fitted over her face. She wanted it off.

The voices assaulted her once more. Clearer this time.

“Start a large bore IV. We’ve got to get some blood right away.”

“Eighteen gauge started—we’re waiting on blood bank.”

“We can’t wait for type and cross, give her some O.”

Beneath her, the gurney moved like a go-cart, making her stomach churn, increasing the dizziness. Strange faces were above her, examining her.

“She’s pregnant? Shit! Get an obstetrician in here now!”

“Hang in there, Amanda. We’re going to take good care of you.”

“Has anyone contacted her family?”

She tried to speak. Couldn’t. Her mind was wrapped in cotton.

Her eyes, so heavy. She closed them.

Amanda awoke later, with no concept of how much time had passed. The hospital room seemed cold, sterile—too white, like the lights that had flooded her senses earlier. A monitor bleeped beside the bed. Clear plastic tubing snaked from her wrist to the IV drip above her.

Amanda swallowed as her sister’s face came into focus. Tear-streaked, pinched with pain. Lips trembling.

“Amanda.” Nikki reached for her hand.

“Nikki?” Amanda’s heart leaped then plunged as anxiety seized her. The memories came back in a rush.

A mountain road.

The young girl, standing on the gravel shoulder, her tire flat.

In her mind, Amanda pulled over to offer help. The use of her cell phone. She recalled reaching for the seat belt that cradled her rounded stomach, undoing the buckle. Then the squeal of tires and the gunshot-like sound of the SUV slamming into her Chevy Blazer from behind.

Dread now pushed all other thoughts from her mind as she reached instinctively to slide her hand over her stomach. Her throat closed and tears burned the back of her eyes. Her belly, once round, full with child, was now deflated like an empty balloon.

Her throat constricted as she choked on a sob. “No-o.”

The devastation on her sister’s face was enough to confirm what she already knew. She squeezed her eyes closed as Nikki gripped her hand. Willing it to not be true.

But the baby was gone.

The baby she’d carried as surrogate for her sister.

CHAPTER ONE

THE MOUNTAINS OF TENNESSEE weren’t as tall and rugged as Colorado’s Rocky Mountains, but they were equally beautiful in Amanda’s eyes. Their beauty represented all she sought for her move—change, a fresh start, an entirely new world.

In the three months since the accident, she’d become someone she no longer knew. She needed to find herself. And the small town of Boone’s Crossing in east Tennessee was the perfect place to do just that.

Granny Satterfield’s log house had been in the family for three generations, though no one had lived there in a long while. It rested in a hollow, or “holler” as the locals pronounced it, six miles from town, surrounded by dogwood, hickory and oak trees. Knee-high grass and irises in vivid shades of lavender and deep violet choked the yard, front and back, tangled vines climbed over the lawn ornaments Granny had always treasured. Alongside the house ran a creek, close enough to the bedroom window for the relaxing sound of trickling water to lull Amanda to sleep each night. Even so, dark dreams plagued her. Drove her into nightmares so vivid, she’d wake up in a cold sweat, fear making her heart race in what quickly turned into a panic attack.

Sometimes she dreamt of the baby she’d never had a chance to hold. And other times, she saw her sister, Nikki, and her brother-in-law, Cody, wandering aimlessly down a long, dark hallway, searching for something they’d never find. Once, she even dreamed of Caitlin Kramer, the young girl who’d had the flat tire that night. From what Amanda had read in the local paper, Caitlin had been a top-notch equestrian with high hopes of making the Olympic show jumping team. But the injuries she’d sustained had ground her dreams into dust.

Nikki, Cody, Caitlin…and how many others? How many people, herself included, had been affected by the chain reaction set off when one drunk had decided to climb behind the wheel? The thought made her crazy.

THE RINGING PHONE pulled Amanda from her half awake, half asleep state of mind. Throwing back the covers, she stood, then hurried to the kitchen and lifted the cordless receiver from its base. “Hello?”

“Hi.” Nikki’s voice came across the line sounding a little fuzzy, which probably meant she was using her free cell phone minutes. Not that she’d had any reason to worry about long-distance rates lately. Shamefully, Amanda had been avoiding her sister, ignoring her messages on the answering machine, still hurt by the harsh parting words they’d exchanged when she left Colorado.

“Nikki.” The wall clock told her it was four-thirty in Deer Creek. “What are you doing up so early?”

“Trying to catch you at home.”

She rubbed the ache that hammered between her eyes. “If you’re calling to tell me what a horrible sister I am, I already know. I’m so sorry I haven’t called you sooner.”

“Well, you ought to be. I was beginning to worry.” Nikki’s concerned tone bordered on big-sister bossiness, leaving Amanda torn between laughing out loud and bursting into tears.

Though she’d telephoned Nikki briefly upon arriving in Boone’s Crossing, she’d only called to let her sister know she’d gotten there safely and that she’d found a position as Assistant Director of Nurses at the nursing home in town. Nikki would’ve worried about her, no matter what sort of hurtful words stood between them. Their conversation had been stiff and brief as the two of them sidestepped one another’s feelings.

Now Amanda felt awful for not being in touch. She missed Nikki far more than she’d believed possible. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. The silence stretched between them while she scrambled for the right words. How are you? seemed shallow, since Nikki had not been fine in a long while. And, What’s going on with you? fell short for the same reason.

“Are you okay?” Nikki asked.

“I should be the one asking you that.” Amanda took a deep breath and decided to dive right in. “I’m fine, if you mean physically. But mentally…no. I can’t stop thinking about you and Cody…” She fought to keep her voice from trembling. “…and little Anna.” Can’t stop being afraid every time I drive on a highway. This was exactly why she’d avoided her sister. She’d hoped time and distance would begin to put things right between them. Instead, it felt as though nothing had changed.

“We’re getting by,” Nikki said.

But from her tone, Amanda knew different. Cody had responded to the loss of the baby by channeling his hurt into anger, striking out at everyone around him. Herself, Nikki, even his best friend Mark, who ironically had once been Amanda’s fiancé. But that was a whole other can of worms. One she didn’t want to open ever again.

She and Nikki had stood by one another, awkward, confused, each hurting in her own way. Who was the real victim here? And how did they put the pieces of their lives back together?

Seeing a therapist hadn’t helped much, not for any of them. And neither had any of Amanda’s attempts to make things better. She’d wanted to repay Nikki and Cody for the expenses they’d incurred during the surrogacy procedure—expenses that had eaten up their entire savings, leaving Amanda with the feeling that she’d robbed them of their last chance for a child of their own. Nikki had responded to her offer with offense and sadness. How could you think the money mattered? Cody had become even more angry. You can’t buy back our daughter, Amanda!

“Come on,” Amanda prodded. “I know you better than that. Remember, you’re talking to the kid who used to find your diary no matter where you tried to hide it.”

Nikki’s sob wrenched her heart, and Amanda cursed under her breath, wishing she hadn’t pushed the issue. That she hadn’t been such a coward and run over fifteen hundred miles to get away from the pain that chased her anyway.

“We’re not getting along,” Nikki said. “I thought for a while the counseling was working, but now I feel like we’re right back to square one.”

Amanda let her feet slide out from under her, sinking down to sit on the cool linoleum, her back pressed against the cupboard where Granny Satterfield had always kept a jar of lemon drops. They’d been Granny’s cure for whatever ailed you. Amanda longed for the days when life was so simple. When she was five and Nikki was eight, and the two of them climbed Granny’s trees and rode their pony double, talking about what they’d be when they were all grown up.

“Come home,” Amanda said. The idea was spontaneous, flying from her lips before she could stop it.

“What?” Nikki gave a dry laugh. “You’re the one who needs to come home, Amanda. We haven’t lived in Tennessee since we were in elementary school.”

Amanda squeezed her eyes shut. “I know,” she whispered. “But it’s so peaceful here, and the people are really friendly. I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that coming here has solved everything for me, because it hasn’t.” Again, frustrated anger rose inside of her. She’d been perfectly satisfied with her life before the accident—well on her way to having everything she’d dreamed of. She was certain Mark would change his mind about not wanting kids once he’d seen the baby, and that the two of them would marry as planned and have children of their own. “But I do think being here is going to help me heal.” Eventually.

“It’s not the same here without you,” Nikki said. “There’s no one to go to lunch with, or shopping.” Her voice came out thick. She sniffed. “No one to talk to.”

Amanda swallowed over the obstruction in her own throat. “You’ve got friends there who love you, hon.”

“Yeah, but not like you. No one else has ever loved me so unconditionally.”

Her heart clenched as Amanda struggled not to cry. She’d hated watching Nikki suffer through repeated miscarriages, the result of an incompetent cervix, and had been more than willing to carry Nikki and Cody’s biological child when the subject of surrogacy had come up. Nikki’s words echoed in her memory— Now that’s what I call sisterly love. Amanda, you are the most caring, giving, person. They’d hugged each other and cried, but those tears had been happy ones.

The tears she now heard in her sister’s voice were anything but, and she felt like hell for leaving Nikki behind. How could she explain that she’d had no choice? That she’d felt as if her last thread of sanity had been torn in two?

“I can’t come back right now,” Amanda said. Maybe never.

“But you loved your job,” Nikki prodded. “I know it was tough to try and go back after—”

Amanda cut her off. “I have a job I like here.” She knew Nikki meant well, but the accident had created a cesspool of pain, anger, fear and remorse Amanda could not wade out of, no matter how hard she tried. And she absolutely could not bring herself to face her job as an RN in the maternity ward at the Deer Creek County Hospital. Being around the babies, the expectant mothers, was more than she could bear.

“Not one you love with a passion,” Nikki countered. “Is it really so rewarding, taking care of old people? Watching your patients die on a regular basis?”

Amanda fought her irritation, knowing her sister didn’t mean for her words to be hurtful. “Yes, it is rewarding. In a different way.”

“Yeah, well, maybe so. But the way you took off reminds me too much of Mom.”

“I’m not chasing shadows, Nikki.”

“I don’t want you to become like her—a nomad.”

For as long as Amanda could remember, their mother had moved them from town to town, state to state, holding down various jobs. Always thinking the next place would be exactly what she’d been looking for—whatever that was. “I don’t plan to. Boone’s Crossing was about the only place we ever had roots, thanks to Granny. Why don’t you take a week or two and come down?” she asked again. “School will be out in a few days.” How Nikki managed to cope with teaching a room full of kindergartners after the emotional upheaval she’d suffered, Amanda didn’t know. She personally couldn’t have done it.

“I don’t know.” Nikki sighed, and Amanda could picture her jabbing her fingers through her honey-brown bangs, then twisting them around her fingers. It was a habit Granny Satterfield had never been able to break her of.

“Maybe putting some distance between you and Cody would help,” Amanda coaxed. She swallowed hard, forcing the words out. “He doesn’t mean the things he said. It’s just the cop in him.” No matter if Cody had meant them or not, her brother-in-law’s harsh words had cut deeply.

How could you be so stupid, Amanda? So irresponsible. Stopping on a dark highway like that, for God’s sake!

And Nikki, torn between her husband and her sister. Cody, that’s not fair. Amanda, maybe you’d better leave for now.

She’d left all right. Taken off for Boone’s Crossing without much of a second thought.

“I’m not so sure of that,” Nikki said quietly, and Amanda wasn’t sure if she referred to the fact that some distance would help or that Cody hadn’t meant what he said. “Some distance, huh?” she added dryly. “You don’t think fifteen hundred miles would be overdoing it?”

Amanda chewed her bottom lip. “You’re the only one who can answer that, sis. But the invitation’s open. Any time.” She forced a note of humor into her voice. “You know where Granny kept the spare key. It’s still there.”

Nikki made a sound that could’ve been a sob or a laugh. “Not that she ever bothered to lock the door anyway.”

“You let me know,” Amanda said. “Promise?”

“I’ll think about it. And don’t go so long without answering my phone calls, do you hear me? I can still kick your butt, you know.”

“You can try,” Amanda teased. “I love you, sis.”

“Love you, too.”

Amanda hung up, but made no move to rise from the floor. Somehow, she found comfort sitting here, looking at Granny’s kitchen on a child’s level. Her earliest recollection of this room had been when she was around four years old, though she’d stayed at Granny’s even as a baby. The last time she’d set foot in here while Granny was alive, she’d been in middle school. But once Amanda had reached high school, other interests had taken the place of her summer trips to Tennessee, and then there had been college, nursing school….

She felt ashamed that she’d only managed to visit Granny once as an adult, and that had been at the hospital. Though she’d seen her a few times prior to that, when Granny had come to Colorado to “stay a spell,” it wasn’t the same as coming here to the log house. To Boone’s Crossing, where gospel music and old-fashioned manners were still an integral part of life, giving Amanda the feeling of being wrapped in a warm, handmade blanket.

Too bad Granny wasn’t here now, to offer words of wisdom. Still, she recalled one thing her grandmother had always said. No matter the ups and downs a person faced day to day, life was far too short to waste one single, precious minute. Putting Granny Satterfield’s house in livable order had kept Amanda’s mind and hands busy, and her position at Shade Tree Manor filled her days and gave her purpose.

Yet, no matter what she’d said to Nikki, she did not feel whole. Instead, she seemed to follow a mechanical pattern of waking, going to work, coming home to an empty house and repeating the routine the next day. But she hadn’t lied about the satisfaction taking care of senior-aged residents gave her. They were the bright spot in her day, and with that thought, Amanda pushed herself up off the floor, put the phone back in place and headed for the bathroom.

She showered, dressed, and twisted her hair into a serviceable knot on the back of her head. In a matter of minutes, she arrived at Shade Tree Manor. Starting her second week on the job, she felt safe and comfortable among both the staff and residents, and as she walked through the door, her co-workers greeted her. One of the LPNs, who she’d taken an immediate liking to on their first meeting, rolled her eyes as Amanda approached the nurses’ station.

“Boy, am I glad to see you.” Reed-thin and six feet tall with wavy black hair, Roberta Baker hid a tender heart beneath a faux display of gruffness. She worked the night shift and showed a devotion to the residents Amanda liked to see in her nurses.

Amanda tucked her purse under the counter, and turned to face her. “I take it you’re ready to go home.”

“Honey, let me tell you.” Roberta blew out a puff of air that sent her bangs flying. “Albert’s at it again, thinking he’s Daniel Boone. I caught him in the hallway, not once, but twice—” she held up two fingers for emphasis “—wearing nothing but his skivvies and a raccoon skin hat. I think we’ve finally gotten him to go to sleep, but I’m telling you what’s the truth—y’all better keep an eye on him.”

Amanda smothered a chuckle. She loved the melodious way Roberta spoke, with her thick southern accent. She hailed from Kentucky, Boone’s Crossing being just a short drive from both Kentucky and Virginia. While it was sad that Albert’s mind had been seized by dementia, Amanda got a kick out of the way Roberta described his antics. Apparently, the seventy-five-year-old gentleman was good for some unique forms of entertainment, though Amanda had yet to witness one personally.

“We’ll watch him,” she promised as Roberta gathered her purse and prepared to leave.

A short while later, after making sure one of the LPNs was keeping close tabs on Albert, Amanda headed through the day room on her way to the employee lounge. She could do with a quick cup of coffee. The day room was all but empty. Two residents watched a morning news program, another was working at a jigsaw puzzle.

It was the resident sitting in a wheelchair at a card table in the far corner who caught her eye. At eighty-seven, Zebadiah Bonner had a sharper mind than a lot of people twenty years his junior. And he’d been a friend of Granny’s, though Amanda hadn’t remembered him. He’d come to Shade Tree Manor just a few days prior to Amanda’s arrival, following three weeks in the county hospital with a broken hip. Now on the slow road to recovery, starting with a regime of physical therapy, Zeb was generally in high spirits. His injury had done nothing to quell his feistiness.

He was playing chess by himself. It was the unique set of game pieces that had initially captured Amanda’s attention the first time she’d met Zeb. Handpainted, they were figures from the Wild West; cowboys on rearing horses, saloon girls, covered wagons. A gift from his grandson, the chess set was Zeb’s pride and joy. But he refused to play with anyone. Instead, he moved both sets of chess pieces on his own, making the game go the way he wanted.

“Good morning, Zeb.” Amanda stood beside the old man’s wheelchair, her hand on his shoulder. “How are we doing today?”

He cocked his head and gave her a toothless smile. Zebadiah also refused to wear his dentures most of the time. “I don’t know about you,” he said, “but I’m finer than frog’s hair, now that a pretty blonde is in the room.” He winked, then turned his attention back to the chessboard, focused on his next move.

“Still playing alone, I see.” Amanda gave his shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

“Darned right. Ain’t gonna play with nobody else, especially Charlie.” He looked up at her once more, his blue eyes bright beneath the ball cap he always wore. “He cheats you know.”

“So you’ve told me.” She gave his shoulder a final pat. “Well, I’m off for a cup of coffee. See you later.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have a bottle of Southern Comfort tucked away in that employee’s lounge, now would you, honey?” Zeb arched one brow, eyes twinkling. It was a game he’d played with her since day one. Craving in jest the drink he’d given up long ago.

Amanda played along. “Nice try.” She pointed her finger in mock reprimand. “Behave yourself, now, or I’ll tell Charlie you’ve invited him out here to be your opponent.”

“Oh, don’t you do that.” Zeb shook his head, raising his hands in surrender. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Amanda laughed, then headed for the lounge. By the time she’d grabbed a cup of coffee and started back across the day room toward her office, Zeb was no longer alone.

Her chest gave a little hitch at the sight of the man seated near his elbow. She’d guess his age to be either side of thirty. His long legs, clad in faded jeans, stretched out in front of him, the toes of his work boots peeking out from beneath the table. Like Zeb, he wore a ball cap with a farm product insignia on the front. The blue denim of his shirt looked worn to the point of comfort, and his hair showed beneath the cap just enough for her to see it was a warm shade of brown. But it was his eyes that had her heart doing a funny little blip. Deep, chocolate-brown with thick, dark lashes, they studied her as though he were intent on reading her mind.

No one should look that sexy in a work shirt and John Deere cap.

Amanda forced herself to look away. “Hey, Zeb, did you find yourself a chess partner after all?” With a will of their own, her eyes darted back to focus on Zeb’s companion.

A deep chuckle rumbled in the man’s chest, and when he grinned, dimples creased his cheeks. “Not me. Papaw’s too much competition for my liking.” His southern drawl slid over her like melted butter. His statement was accompanied by a wink, not flirtatious, but one that left her feeling as though the two of them shared a secret.

“This here’s my grandson Ian,” Zeb said. “The one who gave me this.” He indicated the chess set with a wave of his hand. “Ian, meet Miss Kelly, my favorite nurse. She’s Olivia Satterfield’s granddaughter. Y’all were too far apart in age to play together back then, or you might remember her.”

Ian half rose from the chair to briefly grip her hand. His palm curled around hers, warm, callused. The hand of a working man. “Ian Bonner,” he said. “Pleased to meet you, Miss Kelly. I’m sorry I don’t remember you.”

“Amanda.” She tried not to stare. But his eyes…good Lord, talk about tall, dark and handsome. “Amanda Kelly. And it’s nice to meet you, too, Ian.”

“He brought contraband.” Zeb spoke in a stage whisper, one hand shielding the side of his mouth. With the other, he hooked his thumb in the direction of a box of doughnuts on a corner of the card table.

“So I see.” Amanda pursed her lips and squirmed as she noticed Ian’s gaze lingering on her. “But since you’re not on a restricted diet,” she went on, “I suppose we can let a box of doughnuts slip by this once.”

“If you’re gonna eat ’em, you’ll have to put your teeth in, Papaw,” Ian ribbed. Then he flipped open the lid and held the box up in offering. “Would you like one?”

The tempting scent of chocolate and powdered sugar wafted over her, but she barely gave a second thought to the proffered treats. Ian Bonner was far more distracting than bakery goodies, which meant she needed to get back to work.

“No thanks. If I eat a doughnut, I’ll end up wearing it on my hiney.”

Zeb guffawed, then gave her an approving look. “Nothing wrong with your hiney,” he teased. “I doubt a doughnut or two would hurt it.”

Embarrassment filled her as Amanda realized what her comment had evoked. Ian shifted his eyes to her hips, then looked back up at her and hid a smile with obvious effort. The expression on his face made her blush even more. “You’re a masher, Zeb,” she said. “Admit it.” She shook her finger at him once more. “And don’t forget you need to take those doughnuts to your room. No food or drink allowed in the day room.”

“Spoilsport,” Zeb said. Then to Ian, “C’mon, son. I’ve got a bottle of Jack Daniel’s hidden in my closet that’ll go real nice with these doughnuts.”

“I thought that was moonshine.” Amanda’s lips twitched.

“Nope. That I hid under my bed.” Zeb began to put away his chess set, placing the pieces inside the hinged compartment of the rosewood-and-mahogany playing board.

“It’s a shame to interrupt your game,” Ian teased. But his smile was for Amanda, and she felt her face warm all over again.

“No problem.” Zeb closed the board. “I was losin’ anyway.”

IAN HATED TO LEAVE Papaw. It didn’t seem right, having him here in the nursing home when the old man had spent the better part of his life in the hills, hunting, fishing, running his small tobacco farm. But a fall from his mule had put him in the hospital with a broken hip, and Shade Tree Manor was the best place for him to recover.

“I’ve got to go now, Papaw,” Ian said, rising from the chair next to his grandpa’s bed. “I’ll be by again soon.” He tried to visit Papaw as often as possible, but for the last week or so, things at the welding shop had kept him busy enough that he’d only managed to come by twice.

Papaw waved a gnarled hand in farewell, already absorbed in watching his favorite game show. Ian smiled, noting a dab of chocolate stuck to the corner of his grandpa’s bottom lip. He tossed a paper napkin in Papaw’s lap, then crumpled up the bag that had held two cartons of chocolate milk and stuffed it into the trash can. “See ya.” He gave the old man a quick hug, then walked out into the hall to the open reception area.

There she was again. The nurse that had left his stomach doing funny things that had nothing to do with too much chocolate. Amanda Kelly. He liked the way her name sounded inside his mind. She hadn’t noticed him the last time he’d been here, but he’d sure noticed her. And when she’d walked up to Papaw’s card table this morning, he’d had a hard time keeping his eyes where they belonged. He might not have recalled seeing her years ago, but her shapely curves, pretty green eyes and blond hair definitely had his attention now.

Today she wore a pale-green blouse with her white pantsuit uniform. The blouse brought out the color in her eyes, and Ian wondered how close she was in age to his own thirty-two years. From Papaw’s earlier comment, he concluded she must be somewhat younger, certainly not older. She had her back to him at the moment, and though her jacket hid a good deal of her figure, he was sure Papaw was right. There was nothing wrong with the way she was shaped. Nothing at all.

She stood inside the nurses’ station, bent over the computer with another woman who sat at the keyboard. They talked and Amanda nodded, then picked up a stack of papers and made her way into the reception area. She glanced up at him and smiled, then averted her gaze and walked on by. He started to say something, anything that would make her stop and talk to him, but before he got the chance, one of the sheets of paper she carried slid out of her grasp and fluttered to the tile floor.

He would’ve picked it up for her, had he reached her sooner. As it was, he was but a couple of steps shy of doing so when the glass doors of the front entrance swung open and a young man and woman hurried into the building. Ian recognized the guy as Danny Taylor, who worked at the auto parts store in town. Danny’s wife, barely more than a girl, carried a baby in her arms, wrapped in a pink afghan. Laughing and talking, neither of them paid attention to where they walked, and as Amanda bent to retrieve the paper from the floor, Danny nearly bumped into her.

“Look out, Danny.” His wife balanced the baby in the crook of one arm, and clutched his sleeve with her free hand, tugging him sideways.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” Danny gave Amanda an apologetic smile as she straightened, paper in hand.

“No problem.” Her lips curved in response, but her face went ghastly pale, and Ian wondered if she’d stood up too fast after bending over to reach what she’d dropped.

Her eyes locked on the baby, and the look of sadness and longing he saw there gave him a chill. Amanda’s expression closely mirrored one he knew he’d worn more than once.

How many times had he searched the faces of babies so many years ago, looking for familiarity in their features? And later, in the scout troop he occasionally supervised. Most recently, wondering where his son might be today, he caught himself watching the faces of teenagers he saw around town. The pizza delivery boy, the kid who pumped gas at the BP station…

No matter how futile the effort, Ian couldn’t stop looking.

Amanda wore that same haunted expression as she stared briefly at the baby, then turned away and quickly tried to hide what her face so clearly said she’d felt. She saw Ian watching her, and waved her fingers in a see-you-later gesture, then headed down the hall and ducked into an office, closing the door behind her. Ian mumbled a greeting to Danny and his child-wife as they passed by, his thoughts whirling. Outside, he climbed into his pickup and cranked the engine, leaning his elbow on the open window as he backed out of the parking space.

Had Amanda given up a baby when she was young? He shook off the thought, telling himself it was ridiculous to assume things about a woman he didn’t even know. Her reaction could’ve been due to any number of things. Maybe she had a half-grown kid at home and longed for the days when the child had been an infant. His cousins often complained how quickly their little ones grew up. Or maybe she wanted a baby and didn’t yet have one.

Or maybe he was nuts, thinking and worrying over a stranger and what her life might involve. But he couldn’t help it. The sorrow he’d seen in Amanda had hit him right in the stomach. And the way she’d tried to hide her emotions before anyone noticed left him wanting to go back inside the building and ask her what was wrong. Tell her he’d sit and listen if she needed an ear to bend or a shoulder to lean on. Because he’d been there.

He’d felt pain as deep as that in Amanda’s eyes on a cloudy day sixteen years ago.

A day when he’d signed his newborn son away to a pair of total strangers.

CHAPTER TWO

IAN PULLED OFF HIS welding gloves and laid them on the workbench next to the horse trailer he’d been working on for the better part of the afternoon. Bought at a bargain, it needed new feeder racks, tack compartment dividers and metal hooks for halters and ropes. The customer who owned it was a regular, always finding something or other for Ian to weld or repair.

Hot and tired, he set his hood on the welder and removed his welding sleeves. Despite the day’s accomplishments, he still felt an empty hunger no amount of hard work ever seemed to erase. He hadn’t been able to get Amanda Kelly off his mind these last few days, no matter how many customers came to his shop to chat and bring him things to do.

He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Papaw the other morning while they ate the doughnuts he’d brought.

“I couldn’t help but notice the way you looked at Miss Kelly,” Papaw said. His sharp blue eyes had studied Ian.

“Sure, and who wouldn’t?” Ian couldn’t help grinning. Papaw still had an eye for the ladies, and probably would until the day they laid him to rest. “She’s a good-looking woman.”

“Won’t get no argument from me on that,” Papaw said. “But I reckon I saw more to the way you watched her than that.”

“What do you mean?”

The old man grunted. “You know what.” He shook one finger at Ian. “You’re a workaholic, boy. When was the last time you took a woman out?”

“On a date?”

“No, on a fishing trip.” Zeb gave him a playful punch in the arm, his aim as good as it ever was. “’Course I mean on a date.”

Ian shrugged. “I don’t know.” He pondered the question. “Last Valentine’s Day, when Billy Ray’s sister Sheryl was in town?”

“That’s just what I’m saying.” Papaw shook his head in a gesture of hopelessness. “You need to get out more.”

“I can’t ask Amanda out,” Ian protested. “She doesn’t even know me.”

“Can’t never did anything. Go on and ask her. I’d do it myself, if I were ten years younger.”

Ian laughed and Papaw gave him a sly grin, made wider than normal by his dentures. Then he grew serious. “How’re you ever gonna make a family of your own if you’re alone all the time?”

How indeed? The thought ate at him now as Ian closed the shop door, locked it and headed for the barn. Banjo, Papaw’s buckskin mule, brayed at him from the connected paddock, wanting a treat. Ian gave him some sweet feed, then walked up the hill to the house he’d called home for the better part of his life. The worn porch steps creaked as he climbed them, and Cuddles, the Rottweiler he’d had since she was a pup, rose from her place near the steps and wagged her stubby tail. He patted her and fed her from a sack of dog food he kept on the enclosed back porch before going inside the house.

The kitchen was way too quiet without Papaw here. He’d lived with Ian ever since Mamaw passed away a year ago. But then he broke his hip, and all that had ended. At least for a while. From the fridge, Ian grabbed a can of beer, popping the top as he walked into the living room. Maybe his grandpa was right. He really didn’t have much of a social life, and couldn’t remember the last time a woman who wasn’t a relative had entered this house.

The men on the Bonner side of the family seemed to outlive their women more often than not. His mom had succumbed to cancer long ago, and his dad now lived in Virginia, close to three of his own sisters and their grandkids. With Ian an only child, Matthew Bonner had probably given up on ever having grandchildren of his own. Ian often wondered if his dad regretted having taken part in convincing him to give up his son all those years ago.

Sinking into his favorite chair, he propped his booted feet on the ottoman and looked around, trying to view the room the way a stranger might see it. What would Amanda Kelly think of this place if he were to invite her over? The living room was clean but cluttered, the windows bare of curtains. With neighbors no closer than a mile away, and the house sitting up on a hill some distance off the road, there was no need to worry anyone would look in. Like most other homes outside Boone’s Crossing, the place was surrounded by woods, with a grove of trees in the yard, the pasture spreading out beyond.

Ian closed his eyes and pictured walking up the front steps with Amanda, inviting her in for a cold drink. Probably sweet tea or Coke. She didn’t look like a woman who drank beer. Maybe wine. Not his thing. But then what did he know? As Papaw had pointed out, he didn’t make much time for dating, and overall, women were a mystery to him.

Still, he’d managed to do his share of tomcatting in his younger days, which had gotten him in trouble to begin with. His high school sweetheart, Jolene Bradford, had taken his heart, his class ring and his virginity, all in short order. Getting Jolene pregnant during their sophomore year hadn’t been the smartest thing he’d ever done. Giving up their baby boy had seemed a step in the right direction toward growing up and making responsible decisions. Or at least, it did at the time.

But as the years went by, the regret of not knowing what had become of his own child had worn on him. He’d lost himself in work, starting with after-school jobs and helping Papaw at the welding shop and with putting up the tobacco they used to raise. One day seemed to fold into the next, one year into another, until he now owned the shop and Papaw was in the nursing home.

What did he really have to show for his life? He’d always thought he’d have a family by now. A couple of kids and a wife to come home to…even if coming home only required walking up the hill. Though he had searched time and again, he’d never found his son, and the pain of that stayed with him.

Shaking off the melancholy thoughts, Ian let his mind wander back to Amanda. Maybe he ought to come right out and ask her on a date. He could take her to supper or something. Dancing maybe. Nope. He shook his head. He hadn’t danced in so long, he’d likely make a fool of himself by stepping on her toes. It would have to be supper. Someplace nice but not too romantic. Dinner. That’s what she’d probably call it. Just thinking about her western accent made him smile. It was hard to understand at times, but he liked the sound of it—the way the words rolled off her tongue. Though they barely knew each other, he hoped she’d accept his invitation, if for no other reason than the fact that their grandparents had been friends.

Would a woman like Amanda find a lifestyle like his worthy? She was a nurse, probably used to fancy things and men who worked white-collar jobs.

“You’re getting way ahead of yourself, Bonner,” he muttered out loud. But there wasn’t any harm in getting to know her. He could hear Papaw’s voice inside his head, as sure as if he were sitting right there beside him.

Can’t never did anything, son.

Papaw was right.

At the door, Cuddles scratched and whined to come in. Rising from his chair, Ian abandoned his half-empty beer to open the screen for her. “Some watch-dog you are,” he said, as she bounded inside and rolled over on the braided throw rug. Her paws in the air, she begged for a tummy rub. Ian laughed and scratched her belly. “Big baby.”

Maybe Amanda liked dogs.

Maybe he’d find out, the next time he visited Papaw.

TO IAN’S DISAPPOINTMENT, Amanda wasn’t working at Shade Tree Manor when he stopped by there Wednesday morning. But Papaw told him she lived at her granny’s cabin, and that Saturday was also her day off. He’d therefore planned to drive out to the old Satterfield place as soon as he finished a few odd jobs at the shop. Instead, he found himself in charge of the group of kids he’d volunteered to look after on a once-a-month basis. The Cumberland Cubs, a scout troop of a dozen boys under the age of twelve.

He shouldn’t have answered the phone.

Oh, he liked taking the boys camping well enough. But last Saturday had been his weekend with the Cubs, and he hadn’t planned to act as scout leader this weekend, too. Yet he never seemed to be able to say no to someone in need.

He now stood, dressed in jeans, a long-sleeved khaki shirt and hiking boots, next to a commercial-sized van that belonged to the head scoutmaster—his best friend, Neil.

“I sure appreciate this, buddy,” Neil said after giving the troop one more round of last minute instructions. “Having Peggy and the girls down with this cruddy spring flu, and my other two scout leaders sick, I didn’t know who else to call. And I hated to disappoint the boys. They love camping out at ’Livia Satterfield’s old place.”

“The Satterfield place?” Ian’s ears perked. “That’s where you were planning to take them?” They rotated locations on their monthly overnight outings.

Neil looked at him as if he’d grown an extra eye. “Yeah. You know we generally go there at least every other month.” Olivia Satterfield had loved the woods almost as much as she loved kids, and she’d let the Cubs camp on the back of her ten acres anytime they wanted. But Ian had assumed that was all in the past, now that Amanda lived there.

“I know, but—is the new owner okay with it?”

Neil shrugged. “Olivia left the place to her daughter, Bridget. And when I talked to her after the funeral, Bridget said ’Livia wrote it up in the will that the Cubs were to keep camping there for as long as the place remains in the family. I thought I’d told you that?”

“If you did, I didn’t hear you,” Ian said, trying not to smile. Perfect. “I guess we’ll find out if her granddaughter feels the same way.”

“Won’t matter. Like I said, it’s in the will.” Neil cupped his hands around his mouth. “Okay, troop, let’s load up! Pronto!”

The boys piled into the minivan, and Ian climbed behind the wheel, feeling like a kid himself. A kid with a crush.

“Hey, Ian.” One of the youngsters leaned over the seat and tapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks for taking us camping.”

His conscience gave a mental blush. He shouldn’t be happy they were headed for Amanda’s place just so he could see her. He loved kids, and the Cubs came first. The purpose of this camping trip was to be sure they had a good time.

“You’re more than welcome, Jeffrey.” Ian wondered how it would feel to drive a van full of children of his own. Maybe he’d find out someday. If he could ever find someone to be their mother.

He waited while the boys settled in place with all doors shut. “Is everybody buckled up?”

“Yeah!” they chorused.

“And is everyone ready to have some fun?”

“Yeah!” Their voices were louder this time, full of enthusiasm.

Ian’s lips twitched. He was already having a good time. “And is everybody ready to kiss some girls?”

“No!”

“Yuck.”

“I’m not going if we have to do that.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “Okay, no girl kissin’. How about catching frogs?”

“Yeah!”

A grin plastered on his face, Ian waved at Neil and drove away.

AMANDA SANK INTO the steaming tub of bubbles. From the headphones of her portable CD player, the sounds of nature helped her relax, as did the scent of the aromatherapy candles lining the vanity. Closing her eyes, she dozed and awoke a short time later. The headphones were silent but she could hear the faint chatter of birds. Laughing at herself, Amanda sat up straight in the tub. She had all the nature sounds she wanted right outside her window.

Discarding the headphones, she leaned forward and turned on the hot water to bring the tub’s temperature up to a comfort level once more. Then she rose and flipped open the latch on the window. Hands slick, she pushed upward on the sliding pane of frosted glass and very nearly lost her balance. Creaky with lack of use, the window stuck a moment, then slid abruptly to a wide-open position. Through the screen, she heard the running creek, and the birds, louder now, singing in the trees…

And the voices of children.

Kids? Out here? Frowning, Amanda turned off the water and peered over the edge of the windowsill. She didn’t see anyone. Her nearest neighbors lived some distance down the road in either direction. So where were the sounds coming from? Head cocked, she strained to listen. For a moment, she heard nothing and wondered if she’d imagined the whole thing. Then a burst of laughter rang through the air, followed by a shout and a man’s voice.

Hastily, Amanda closed the curtains and climbed from the tub. She dried off haphazardly with an oversized bath towel, doused the candles, then wrapped herself in a terry-cloth robe. Who on earth was out in the woods behind her house? Belting the robe at her waist, Amanda stepped into the kitchen and let out a startled gasp.

A boy, who looked about nine or ten, stood in front of her sink. Chubby with sandy hair and freckles, he stared at her, eyes wide, candy-stained mouth open. A plastic cup of water slipped out of his grasp, landing on the floor to pool across the linoleum.

“Who are you?” Amanda clutched the bathrobe against her damp skin. “And what are you doing in my kitchen?”

The poor kid clamped his mouth shut, then tried to form a sentence. “I—I…” He looked down at the water spreading around his feet, then back up at her. “You’re not Miss Rachel.”

He referred to the woman who’d been Granny Satterfield’s dear friend, and who had kept an eye on Granny’s house for the past two years. Sixty-five, Rachel Fultz lived down the road on the way to town.

“No. I’m Amanda Kelly. This used to be my Granny Satterfield’s place.”

“I’m Troy Stoakes,” he said. He bent over to pick up the plastic cup and Amanda belatedly realized he was wearing some sort of scout uniform.

Boy Scouts were supposed to be honorable, dependable, good kids, so surely this one meant no harm in entering her house. But the fact that he’d walked in without knocking was a bit unusual, even for small-town etiquette.

“If you’ve got a towel, I’ll clean this up.”

“It’s okay,” Amanda said, still confused. She reached for the roll of paper towels hanging near the stove. “Troy, why are you in my kitchen?”

Now it was the boy’s turn to look confused. “I know Miss ’Livia died, but I thought Miss Rachel was taking care of the house. Miss ’Livia always let us come in for a drink or a cookie, and Miss Rachel said it was still okay to come in here for water.” He took the wad of paper towels from her and proceeded to clean up the spill. “I can’t drink from the creek outside. My ma says it’ll give me jagardia.”

Amanda pursed her lips in a smile. “You mean Giardia.” She knelt beside him and helped mop up the water.

Troy paused in his task long enough to point at the cupboard beside the sink. “Miss Rachel keeps cups for us in there.”

“I see.” She hadn’t thought much about the plastic cups, since quite a few of Granny’s things still remained in the house and in the toolshed outside. And while the utilities had been turned off until Amanda’s arrival, the old hand pump at the sink worked without electricity, fed by a natural underground spring. “But I still don’t understand what you’re doing here at my granny’s place.” She frowned, remembering the sound of laughter she’d heard through the bathroom window. She gave a nod in the direction of the woods. “Are there Boy Scouts out there?”

Troy stood, paper towels dripping in his hand, and Amanda pulled the trash can out from under the sink for him. “Uh-huh. We’re sleeping in the woods behind your house.” He tossed the soggy towels into the container. “We camp out several times a year, and this is one of our favorite spots.” He smiled at her, revealing a row of teeth darkened by what must be black licorice. “We’re the Cumberland Cubs.”

“Oh.” Amanda bit her bottom lip. This boy was sweet. “Where’s your scoutmaster?”

“He’s out back. His name’s Aain.” Carefully, Troy refilled the plastic cup, took a big gulp of water, then set the cup in the sink. “Can I go now?”

Amanda shrugged. “Sure.”

“Bye.” He pushed open the screen, then paused and looked back at her. “I’m sorry I made you yell, ma’am.”

“That’s all right.”

Amanda put the trash can back under the sink as the kid hurried away, letting the screen door slam behind him. She walked over and shut the door as well, making a mental note to lock it from now on. Ingrained habits faded far too easily out here in Granny’s beloved woods, where the only thief Amanda could remember had been a raccoon after the eggs in Granny’s henhouse. She flipped the latch in place and went to her room to get dressed, deciding she’d better have a talk with Troy’s scout leader.

Aain? What sort of name was that?

She hung her bathrobe on a hook behind the door, and slid into her underwear and jeans as light dawned inside her mind. Troy had a thick, southern accent. He hadn’t said “Aain.” He’d said Ian. And he’d also said they’d come to camp here on Granny’s property.

Her property now, since her mother had no interest in the place. Did he mean Ian Bonner?

Fully dressed, Amanda slipped on her tennis shoes and hurried out the back door, picturing Ian, with his dark brown eyes and sexy drawl. Sleeping in the woods, practically in her backyard. She told herself it might not be him. Maybe it was another Ian. But whoever it was, he’d brought kids. And that made her a bit uncomfortable.

How dare he do so without asking? While she’d be more than happy to honor Granny’s wishes, she still felt the man owed her the courtesy of making sure she didn’t mind before simply descending on her with an entire troop of scouts.

Knowing she should be wearing boots in case there were snakes, Amanda strode across the backyard toward the woods, her footsteps quiet in the tennis shoes. Quiet enough that she managed to come close to the man who sat on a fallen log in a clearing just behind the house without him noticing her. It was Bonner. He was watching the boys pitching tents and unpacking supplies.

“You’re doing fine, men.” He chuckled. “I’d help you, but you know the rules. So tell me—what does a Cumberland Cub do before turning to his leader for help?”

“Ask a team member!” More than one boy shouted.

“And try, and try again,” another added.

“That’s right.” Ian raised one fist in the air in a gesture of triumph and encouragement. “So keep at it.”

But the look on his face told her how much he wanted to dive in and help the kids, in spite of what he’d said. At last, he noticed her, and Amanda’s heartbeat rose, then dived as he turned to face her. She did her best to ignore what she felt, watching Ian. She had no business being attracted to him or any other man, seeing as how she wasn’t ready to begin a relationship with anyone right now. She wasn’t even sure she could ever take a step past casual friendship again. Dating led to intimacy and that led to heartbreak. She’d had enough of that being engaged to Mark.

The accident had robbed her of everything, had put her thoughts into a whole new perspective. She’d once loved working in the maternity ward, taking care of countless newborns. Precious little things, swaddled in teddy-bear blankets. Wearing teensy-weensy booties, their skin so soft and sweet-smelling. She’d dreamed of one day having a child of her own.

Then Anna had been killed, and now Amanda no longer wanted what she’d once held dear. A husband…a family.

It would be a cold day in hell before she ever allowed herself to be pregnant again.

CHAPTER THREE

TELLING HERSELF SHE WAS being ridiculous, thinking way too far ahead, Amanda walked calmly toward Ian. After all, she didn’t even know him. And while she was pretty sure he’d looked at her the other day as though he liked what he saw, that hardly meant he was going to jump up and propose. She knew it was her past experience, coupled with the accident, that made her overly cautious. She and Mark hadn’t made certain things clear right up-front when they’d begun dating. Things like the fact that she had wanted children and he didn’t. They’d argued heatedly over the matter. Her decision to act as surrogate for Nikki had been the final blow to their already shaky relationship.

Mark had been long gone from her life when the accident happened. But the entire set of circumstances had driven the point firmly home for Amanda. Never again would she go into a relationship with blinders on.

“Hi, there.” Amanda halted.

Ian rose from the fallen log. “Hey, Amanda. It’s nice to see you again.”

She pursed her lips and gave the group of scouts a pointed glance. “I didn’t know I had company.” She knew it wasn’t realistic to think she could hide from children and babies forever, and as Ian smiled at her, her initial irritation slowly began to melt.

“We knocked,” he said, as though that explained everything and excused his act of trespassing. “I didn’t think you were home.”

She started to explain that she’d been wearing headphones and hadn’t heard him, then decided she’d rather not have Ian Bonner picturing her in the bathtub. “You must have a different set of rules here in the South.” Amanda folded her arms and gestured with one hand. “Out west trespassing is against the law, and finding the owner not at home doesn’t give free license to come on in. We call that burglary.” She fought a losing battle with her annoyance. Who could stay mad at a guy with such a soft, sexy voice?

Ian saw right through her. His lips curved. “You’re absolutely right. But here in Tennessee, if it’s among neighbors, we call it borrowin’.” He grimaced. “I didn’t know Troy went inside your house until after the fact. We’ve got our canteens and some bottled water, but he always gets a kick out of using the kitchen pump.”

Amanda softened. “Well, maybe I’m giving you a hard time.” She nodded toward the group of kids. “Troy told me Granny let the boys camp here frequently.”

“She did.” Ian nodded, but he still looked properly chastised. “And I was given the impression your mom okayed it as well. Something about it being in your granny’s will? But with you staying here, I guess it was mighty rude of me to assume everything was settled. I apologize.”

Leave it to her mother to fail to give her the finer details of Granny’s will. Bridget had barely hung around long enough to attend the funeral before heading out once more to her latest “hometown.”

“It’s all right,” Amanda said.

“I do have a defense, however, even if it is a weak one.” Ian’s dark eyes lightened with amusement.

“Oh?”

“I’m only a part-time scoutmaster. The regular guy had to stay home at the last minute with his sick wife and kids. Spring flu’s going around.”

“Then you better get your flu shot,” Amanda said in her best nurse’s voice.

He laughed, and the sound relaxed her. He was easy to talk to, like someone you’d known a long time. She supposed there was nothing wrong with making friends in Boone’s Crossing.

“You don’t mind if we stay then?”

“No.” She told herself she could handle having the boys around, but probably not often and not for long. “But I’d appreciate more notice next time.”

He studied her. “Really, if it’s a problem, we can make this our last outing here.”

Suddenly, Amanda felt like the bad guy. “It’s just that I came out here—to Granny’s place—for some privacy and a little quiet time.”

“A vacation?”

She shook her head. “You might say I’m working through some personal issues.”

“Oh.” His tone told her he was curious, but not nosy enough to push. “So, I take it this is the first time you’ve been here in quite a while?”

“That’s right.” Regret filled her all over again that she hadn’t come to Tennessee to spend time with Granny more often. Why was it that only hindsight was twenty-twenty? “I was just a kid the last time I stayed in Boone’s Crossing. Well, other than when I came here for Granny’s funeral.”

“Ah—then you probably have no idea what you’ve been missing out on.” Ian sat down once more on the fallen log, scooting over to make room for her.

“What’s that?” Amanda asked as she sat beside him.

“BJ’s Barbecue. Established in 1995. It’s the best this side of the Mississippi.” He shifted his weight in such a way that his shirtsleeve touched her bare skin.

Amanda resisted the urge to move—whether closer to him or farther away, she wasn’t sure. “Really? I guess I’ll have to try it sometime.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized how her comment sounded. Like she was fishing for him to ask her out. On the other hand, he could’ve been doing the same, bringing up the subject in the first place. Feeling jittery once more, Amanda subtly shifted farther away from him. “Although I’m not sure when I might have time,” she amended.

“Busy schedule?” he asked. His dark eyes held a look of disappointment.

Or was that only wishful thinking on her part? Like it or not, she was deeply attracted to Ian. “Most of the time, yes. I rarely take two days off in a row. But I don’t mind. My residents mean a lot to me.”

“That’s nice,” Ian said, his tone softening. “I know Papaw sure thinks the world of you.”

Amanda smiled. “Ditto. I know it’s not right to play favorites, but Zeb holds a special place in my heart. I feel like I’ve known him a long time, even though I don’t remember him as a child.”

“He has that effect on just about everyone he meets.” Ian laced his fingers together and let his hands dangle between his knees, elbows propped on his thighs. “I sure miss having him at the house.”

“I didn’t realize he’d lived with you.” Amanda tried to hide the surprise in her voice. Most people would go to whatever lengths it took to avoid taking care of an elderly relative.

Ian nodded. “Yep. Right up until his mule bucked him off.”

“Is that really how he broke his hip? I thought he was teasing me.”

“No, he wasn’t kidding.” He looked straight at her, and she found it hard to pull her gaze away from his eyes. “Papaw’s always fancied himself a cowboy. I’ve tried to tell him Roy Rogers never rode a mule.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “No, but Festus did. On Gunsmoke.”

“Yeah, that’s right, he did.” Ian watched the scouts, checking their progress of making camp. He was silent for a full minute.

Amanda knew she ought to leave. She started to rise, words of farewell on the tip of her tongue.

“Would you like to go to BJ’s with me?” Ian cocked his head, studying her intently.

She froze in place and swallowed. “I don’t know, Ian. I—”

“Hey!” One of the boys, a redhead wearing round, wire-rimmed glasses, shouted as he raced toward them. Troy Stoakes ran with him.

They halted near the log, exchanged gleeful looks, then stared at Ian. “I thought you said there’d be no girl kissing on this camping trip.” Troy’s freckled nose wrinkled as he pursed his lips and grinned. “But you’re sitting mighty close to her.” He spoke in a singsong voice, waggling his forefinger at Amanda.

His buddy snickered. “Guess she’s more fun than catchin’ frogs.” His face flushed as bright as his hair. He glanced at Amanda, then raced away, howling with laughter.

“And she looks pretty good in a pink bathrobe,” Troy said, backing out of reach as Ian made a playful grab for him. He spun on his heel and took off after his friend, hooting and whooping.

“I’ll get you both,” Ian called, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Just wait until you’re asleep tonight.” He chuckled, lowering his hands to his knees. “God, I love kids.”

Speechless, Amanda could only look at him.

He grinned, his dimples doing damage to her heart. “O-kay,” he said, drawing the word out in two syllables. “I guess those boys are better at mind reading than they are at reading trail signs.”

Amanda’s face heated. “And here I thought only girls were that silly.”

Ian rose from the log, offering her a hand. She took it, and let him help her to her feet. Again, she noted the work-rough texture of his palm and longing and regret filled her. Black memories swirled through her mind, threatening to darken the warm, sunny day and blot out the happy voices of the children in the nearby clearing. The familiar rush of adrenaline-driven anxiety filled her. She took a deep breath, focusing on a relaxation technique her therapist had taught her, and managed to shake off her panic.

“Thanks,” she said, then realized she’d never finished answering Ian’s question. “About BJ’s—please don’t take it personally, but I’m going to have to say no.”

He held up one hand. “Hey, don’t worry about it.” He studied her a moment, then gave her a good-natured smile that made it all the harder to walk away.

Awkward silence stretched between them. “I’m home for the rest of the day,” Amanda said, gesturing toward the house. “If anyone gets a skinned knee or a bug bite or whatever, feel free to holler.”

“A nurse on call right next to our campsite.” Ian nodded, and his dimples appeared once more. “Beats the heck out of my first-aid kit.”

“See you.” Amanda lifted her hand in a wave, taking a step backward.

“Sure.” He waved, too. “Enjoy your day off. I’ll try to keep these hooligans at a dull roar.”

She watched him walk away. He looked back only once, and it was almost enough to make her wish she’d said yes to his invitation.

Why? she asked herself as she headed toward the log house. Why would you want to open yourself up to more pain?

She had no answer. But then, that was why she’d moved to Tennessee. To sort things out slowly and give herself space until she finally discovered a long-term plan for living the rest of her life. At the moment, she had no idea where she was headed. The only thing she knew for sure was that right now there was no room in her journey for good-looking men with dark eyes, or silly fantasies about what might have been.

Maybe there never would be.

IAN COULDN’T BELIEVE he’d actually worked up the nerve to ask Amanda out. Sure, it was only for a barbecue sandwich, but he’d blown it at that. He was far more out of practice at this dating business than he’d thought possible. Papaw would give him hell if he found out.

Ian lay in his sleeping bag, hands laced behind his neck as he looked up at the stars. Nearby, he’d pitched a tent in case of rain. Actually, he’d probably crawl inside before too long and zip himself in to avoid the insects and the possibility of snakes paying him a visit. But he liked watching the night sky and the lightning bugs. Around him, the boys were settled in their own tents, mostly quiet. A few smothered chortles came here and there, but as long as they kept it down, he’d let them have their fun. After all, that’s what being a kid and camping out with your buddies was all about.

Fun seemed to be a word that had slid further and further from his vocabulary as of late. Ian peered through the trees at the log cabin. He could see it pretty clearly in the light of the full moon. All of the windows appeared dark. But of course, he couldn’t see those on the other side. He’d only been in the house a couple of times when Olivia Satterfield was alive, and he didn’t really remember the layout. But it stood to reason the bedrooms were likely toward the back, which meant either Amanda was asleep, or she was in the living room in the front area of the house, out of his line of sight.

They’d parted rather awkwardly tonight. He hoped he hadn’t made her too uncomfortable by asking her out on a date. Maybe she had a boyfriend back in Colorado, or even a husband for all he knew. She’d said she had come here to work through some personal issues. People separated all the time, trying to get their heads on straight and make things right. He hoped that wasn’t the case with Amanda, because he wasn’t ready to give up on her yet.

He liked her. It was easy to see she was warm and had a sense of humor, and she seemed to like kids, even though something was a little off in that area. No matter what she’d said, he could tell she wasn’t overly thrilled with having the Cubs camped out here in her woods. She’d simply been too nice to say no. He’d overlooked the fact because he didn’t have the heart to disappoint his troop. But he wondered what lay behind her hesitancy. He was pretty sure it wasn’t just a matter of privacy.

With a sigh, Ian slid from his sleeping bag, still clad in his jeans and shirt. He never completely undressed when camping with the kids. There was always the chance of an emergency, and he didn’t like the thought of being caught in his boxers, barefooted. He’d left his socks on, and now turned his hiking boots upside down and tapped them against a rock to make sure no crawly creatures had decided to take up residence inside them. Feeling the need for a short walk, he slipped the boots on and laced them up, then headed down the path toward Amanda’s.

For whatever reason, he felt compelled to take another look at the house where she lay sleeping. To think about her awhile longer, and see if he couldn’t come up with a way to get to know her better, other than hanging around Papaw at the nursing home.

The sound of crying reached him as he neared the yard. Pausing, he listened and heard nothing. His ears must be playing tricks on him. But there it was again. Quiet sobs, coming from the creek bank. Ian hesitated, wondering if he should leave well enough alone, turn around, head back to camp, and mind his own business. But he couldn’t. It always pained him to hear a woman cry.

Though he could hear Amanda, he could not see her. The clouds had blown across the sky, covering the moon. But as he took a step, they shifted once more on the high breeze, and he spotted her sitting on the bank of the stream. Her back was to him, and her blond hair cascaded nearly to her waist. It was the first time he’d seen it down, rather than in a bun or ponytail. Legs pulled up to her chin, arms wrapped around her knees, Amanda had her head down, crying as if her heart had been shattered.

Torn once more between leaving her to her privacy and the urge to soothe her, Ian walked quietly up behind her. “It can’t be all that bad.”

Amanda swung around and let out a yelp. She clambered to her feet, which were bare, and swiped at her cheeks with both hands. “My God, you scared the life out of me.” Emotions in control, she stood staring at him, her expression caught between anger and embarrassment. She reminded him of an overgrown kid, in the faded jeans and pale yellow blouse she’d had on earlier, her feet and arms creamy white as though they hadn’t seen much sun lately.

“Sorry,” Ian said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“What are you doing?” A look of concern laced with suspicion flashed in her eyes. Her gaze darted toward the house as though measuring the distance.

Surely she didn’t think he was going to pounce on her like some sex-starved maniac?

The sex-starved maniac that he actually was. He held his hands up in surrender. “Don’t shoot, I’m unarmed.”

She only looked at him. “I thought we’d said our goodbyes earlier.” She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her expression changing. “It’s not one of the boys, is it? Is someone sick or hurt?”

“No.” Ian shook his head. “Everyone’s fine. I couldn’t sleep, and I heard you crying. I thought I’d make sure you were all right.” He studied her. “You are, aren’t you?”

She sniffed and tucked her hair behind one ear. “I’m okay.” She shrugged. “Just a little homesick, I guess.” But her eyes betrayed her, telling him there was more to it than that. She looked at him like she wanted—needed—someone to talk to.

He nodded. “Yeah, Papaw said you’d come out here all the way from Colorado.”

“I did.”

“Mind if I ask what brought you here?”

“My car,” she said dryly, then winced. “Sorry.” Her smile was wooden. “Just a little humor to lighten the moment. I apologize for treating you like an intruder.”

“No problem.” He lifted a shoulder. “I guess in a way, I have been, what with me and the boys barging in on you.”

“Well, I suppose that hardly makes you Jack the Ripper.”

“Not even close.” He smiled, wishing he could get her to relax and laugh again. He’d liked the way she joked around with Papaw, and he wondered if she realized how different she was outside the walls of Shade Tree Manor.

Realizing there was such difference made him all the more curious. “So, since we’re both wide awake, want to talk a little bit? It’s always nice getting to know your neighbors.”

Again, a look passed over her face as though she did want to talk, yet was still hesitant. With seeming reluctance, she nodded. “Okay.” Then as though unwilling to be rude, added, “Would you like something to drink? A Coke? I could bring it out on the porch so you don’t have to leave the boys.” She glanced in the direction of the trees. “Or is the porch even too far away?”

“No,” he said. “They’re fine. We’ve got the tents set up in the clearing. Right where you and I were talking earlier.”

“Okay, then.” She turned and walked across the thick grass, sidestepping the lawn ornament he’d made for Olivia Satterfield a long time ago.

He’d nearly forgotten about it. Composed of welded scrap iron, the whimsical billy goat with flowing beard had its head down in a perpetual grazing position.

“Tacky thing, isn’t it?” Amanda said. “I guess I ought to have it removed along with the others.” She waved her hand at an assortment of ceramic statues. “It would make things easier for the boy who mows my lawn.”

Ian hid a grin. “It might at that.” He looked around. The grass wasn’t knee-deep anymore, the way it had been after Olivia’s passing, but it was still a few inches tall. He knew that Rachel Fultz had kept an eye on the house for the past couple of years, but apparently her neighborly duties hadn’t included caring for the yard.

“I can’t believe how fast the grass grows out here,” Amanda went on, climbing the porch steps. “I had it mowed less than a week ago.”

“It’s the humidity,” he said. He paused at the bottom of the steps. “I’ll wait here. Just in case.” He motioned toward the woods and his scout troop.

“Okay. I’ll be right back.” She hurried inside and returned with two cans of Coke. She handed one to him, then sat on the edge of the porch rail. Her body posture seemed tense, and somehow vulnerable, as though she wanted to trust him but still wasn’t completely sure she could. Something about Amanda compelled him to reach out to her.

He settled on the steps, where he could keep an eye out for his boys. A protective feeling rose inside of him, the way it often did, with sudden gusto. He never saw it coming. It was simply there. One minute he’d be minding his own business, walking along with the Cumberland Cubs, or maybe passing by a group of kids at the little mall in the next town. And there it would be. The need to watch over and protect. The way a father would.

How many kids ran around out there in the world, unsupervised, with nobody to care for them? The thought made him furious, and he prayed on a regular basis that his own son had gotten better than that in the way of parents.

“Ian?” Amanda spoke his name as if she’d repeated it.

“Sorry.” He took a sip of his pop. “Just woolgathering. Guess I’m more tired than I’d thought.”

“We don’t have to do this,” she said. Her features closed over once more, as though she were blocking out her emotions, ready to backpedal on spending social time with him. “I mean if you’d rather take the Coke with you…”

“No.” He shook his head, not willing to let her pull away so quickly, just when he was getting to know her a little better. “I like talking to you. It’s nice to have someone around that’s above the age of ten and only has two legs.”

“Excuse me?”

“My dog.” He pursed his lips, teasing Amanda, enjoying it. “She’s over the age of ten, in dog years anyway. But friends of the four-legged variety don’t say much.”

Amanda laughed softly, the sound dropping over him like a rush of warm air. “What kind of dog is she?”

“Rottweiler.”

“A Rottie? Oo-oh.” She shivered.

“No, she’s not mean.” Ian twirled the Coke can. “As a matter of fact, she’s a big old baby. Three years old and a hundred and five pounds. And all she wants is to have anyone and everyone rub her belly.”

“Now that’s my kind of dog. Granny used to have a bloodhound that was the same way.”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “She might not talk, but she’s a good listener. Guess it’s true what they say about dogs being man’s best friend. Or woman’s.” He raised his can in a toast to Amanda, then took a swallow.

“Animals are good for telling your secrets to.” She gazed into the distance, her eyes not focused on anything in particular. “There’s a little gray squirrel that comes up here on the porch sometimes. I call him Skippy. He loves croutons, and I feed him and talk to him.”

Ian sobered, his humor fading as he watched her. The wistful expression in her eyes moved him. It was similar to what he’d seen reflected in his own mirror, and instantly he thought about what had happened the other day at the nursing home, and how it had made him feel. Like he could relate to Amanda in some way.

“It’s nice of you to let the boys stay here.”

“Like I said, I don’t mind once in a while.”

He hesitated, still studying her, and told himself to tread with care. He didn’t want to scare her away or seem overly pushy. “Do you like kids?”

“Sure.” Her answer came out a little too quickly. “Why do you ask? Am I being too mean in not inviting your scout troop over more often?”

“No, not at all. I just…” He let the words trail away. Maybe he was getting too personal. Scratch the “maybe.” He was being nosy and he mentally chastised himself for behaving rudely. It wasn’t like him, which only showed him that Amanda had him rattled. “Forget it. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No—what were you going to say?” Amanda persisted. “What did you notice?”

He focused on the look in her eyes. Her expression had shifted, changed, enough for him to see that whether Amanda realized it or not, she was reaching out to him. His curiosity overcame what was left of his hesitation. He lifted a shoulder. “The other day at the nursing home—when you saw the baby that young couple brought in.” He halted, at a loss for words. He was making a mess out of this, when all he’d meant to do was reach out to her. “Is there something about kids that bothers you?” he asked.

Amanda’s face paled in the moonlight. “You’re very observant,” she said quietly. “I’m surprised you noticed my reaction.”

Immediately, he felt like an oaf. “Forgive me. It was rude of me to bring it up. I didn’t ask you to be nosy, it’s just that—”

She cut him off. “Speaking of children, maybe you’d better go check on your scouts.”

He grimaced, then panicked as Amanda’s lower lashes suddenly glistened with unshed tears. She held them back, her jaw set, her body tense. Lord, he’d made her cry.

His decision was instant, one he wouldn’t later be able to explain.

“Amanda, the reason I asked was because I thought we might have something in common.” He hurried on before she could interrupt. “Something that hurts so deeply it cuts like a knife.” He clenched his fist and brought it up against his heart. “Right here.”

She said nothing, but the expression on her face softened.

“They say it’s sometimes easier to talk to a stranger about your troubles than a friend,” he went on. He took a deep breath and went for broke, knowing this wasn’t just about her anymore. He needed someone to talk to. Someone who might truly understand. “I have a son out there, Amanda. Not in the woods. Not in my scout troop.”

She stared at him, her mouth partially open as if she thought he was crazy.

He probably was. “I have a son,” he repeated, “who I gave up a long time ago. A boy I can’t get off my mind, no matter how much time passes. And I can tell you right now that hiding doesn’t help. And sometimes talking to your family doesn’t either, because they’re too close to the matter. But talking to someone sure beats the hell out of the alternative.” He stood. “I am rightly sorry for intruding on your privacy. I’ll have the kids packed up and out of here first thing in the morning.” Coke in hand, he turned to go.

“Ian.” She spoke his name quietly, but her voice snagged him as if she’d shouted. “What’s the alternative?”

He kept his back to her, briefly squeezing his eyes shut. “Getting lost in your own sorrow. Drinking.” He turned to face her once more. “Working sixteen-hour days. There’s a dozen different poisons.” He shrugged. “You can name your own. I’ve tried most of them.” He held her gaze. “I hate seeing people in pain. And I think something’s eating you up, Amanda. Something that brought you clear out here from Colorado. Don’t forget there are folks to talk to if you need them.” Again, he started to leave.

“Ian.”

He halted. Held his breath. “Yeah?”

“I love barbecue.”

He looked at her, certain his ears were playing tricks on him. “You do?”

“Yes. It’s my favorite.”

He nodded. “Good. Pick you up at five-thirty, tomorrow evening?”

“I work until four. Better make it six.”

“Six it is.”

He headed for the woods, no longer worried about snakes. The one that had kept a choke hold on his emotions had uncoiled about three lengths.

He glanced back over his shoulder, but Amanda was gone.

CHAPTER FOUR

BJ’S BARBECUE STOOD surrounded by a thicket of trees in the west end of Boone’s Crossing. From a smokestack in the roof of the rustic building housing the restaurant, wispy gray tendrils feathered upward, carrying with them enticing aromas of hickory and barbecued meat. Amanda inhaled as she accepted Ian’s outstretched hand and climbed down from his four-wheel drive pickup. She closed her eyes in pure bliss. “Mm-mmm. If the food tastes half as good as it smells, I’m already sold.”

“You won’t be disappointed,” he said.

She looked at him and smiled in an effort to calm her nerves. She’d come close to calling Ian’s welding shop and telling him she’d changed her mind about going out with him. But then she’d remembered the way his eyes had looked when he’d told her about the son he’d given up, and she’d put the phone down. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was nice to have someone to reach out to. Someone to talk to who wasn’t personally involved. She hadn’t had a date in over a year, and told herself to quit being silly. Tonight’s outing was all in friendship.

So why had she taken such care with her appearance, going through one outfit after another in rapid succession, until she’d finally decided on black jeans and her favorite peach blouse? She’d curled her hair and put on some makeup. With her feet in a pair of sandals, toenails painted a tame coral, she’d felt comfortable—until Ian had pulled up in her driveway. Instantly, her stomach had been seized by a case of the jitters that had calmed only marginally on the drive to BJ’s.

Dressed in blue jeans, a maroon western shirt and cowboy boots, Ian looked twice as yummy and tempting as anything she expected to find on the menu. He had on a black ball cap, but he’d taken it off earlier to swat a wasp that had found its way inside the truck. Amanda couldn’t shake the picture from her mind of his light-brown hair that waved slightly and made her want to touch. The combined scents of herbal shampoo and a cologne that reminded her of outdoors and new leather had left her hormones in an uproar.

Ignoring the way her pulse jumped at his touch, she held Ian’s hand just long enough to move away from the truck. She walked with him through the crowded parking lot toward the log building. Her shoes crunched against cedar chips, strewn between the asphalt and sidewalk. Rocking chairs lined the wraparound porch, several occupied by people waiting for a table or enjoying a chat with friends after their meal. Hanging baskets held pansies and petunias in shades of pink, white, red and yellow, and a lifelike mannequin near the entrance clad in bib overalls, a flannel shirt and straw hat gripped a chalkboard menu in its hands, advertising the special. All you care to eat barbecue ribs—$7.99, Amanda silently read.

Her mouth watered all over again, until she focused once more on Ian as he held the door open for her. No way was she going to order something that would leave her with sauce on her face, hands, and likely down the front of her blouse as well.

The inside of the restaurant proved to be as charming as the outside, with tables covered in bright gingham cloth, antique lanterns hanging from the ceiling and rough-hewn log walls. The place was packed, and several people waved or spoke to Ian. After giving his name to the hostess, he led Amanda back out to the porch, where they waited in the rockers until the hostess greeted them and showed them to a table in a corner of the nonsmoking section. She took their order for soft drinks and left menus.

Amanda spotted an offer of barbecued pork on a bun, served with coleslaw and curly fries. “I think I’ll have number three,” she said, tapping the menu with one finger.

Ian gave her a mock frown. “Are you sure? That’s not much of a supper.”

“It’s fine.” Again, she pictured herself with sticky fingers and messy chin.

“Well, I’m not shy,” he said, in tune with her thoughts. “I’m having ribs.”

The waitress returned with their drinks, and Amanda ordered the barbecue sandwich, then sipped her cherry cola. Ian ordered the ribs in a soft drawl that left goose bumps tickling her arms. She could listen to his voice all night and never grow tired of it. Starting guiltily out of her daydream, she realized he’d spoken to her.

“Someone’s trying to get your attention,” he said, indicating with a nod directed behind her and to her left.

Amanda turned to look, then smiled and waved at the towheaded boy who sat at a nearby table. “That’s Delbert Brock. His cousin, Gavin, mows my lawn. Delbert came with him last time and took a liking to that little squirrel I told you about. He got the biggest kick out of feeding him peanuts.” Not until the words were out of her mouth did she realize exactly what they implied. She’d enjoyed having the boys around, unconsciously mothering them with cold drinks and extra sunscreen, and had to admit that their presence wasn’t all that different than having Ian’s scouts in her woods.

Kids were kids, and she loved them every bit as much as Ian did. But the thought of having some of her own left her cold with fear. Maybe it was easier to deal with Delbert and Gavin than it was Ian’s scouts, because they were closer to being grown. Gavin was old enough to drive, hauling his mower and yard tools around in a truck, and Delbert looked about fourteen or fifteen.

Two young men, past the point of needing to be coddled.

Amanda gave Ian a half smile. “Guess your scout troop might like to meet Skippy next time, too, huh?”

He looked at her intently. “We don’t want to wear out our welcome. It’s okay to value your privacy, Amanda.” Briefly, he reached out and folded his hand over hers where it rested on the table.

The gesture was enough to send her heart racing, and she was glad when the waitress brought their order, giving her something to do with her own hands besides squeeze Ian’s in return. She got a kick out of watching him savor his food. He put away his share of the pork ribs and still somehow managed to eat them without making a mess, neatly wiping his fingers on the napkin in his lap.

“Your legs must be hollow,” Amanda teased. “I think I’ve gained five pounds just watching you eat.”

To her amusement, his face flushed beneath his tan and he swiped the napkin across his mouth before answering. “I told you the food here was something you don’t want to miss out on. It’s enough to make me forget my manners and make a pig of myself—no pun intended.”

Amanda laughed and began to relax. “It’s beyond good,” she agreed, polishing off the last of her curly fries. “I’m going to have to walk home to wear off the calories.” The barbecue sandwich she’d eaten had been twice as big as she’d expected, served on a bun so large there was no way to hold it and still maintain good table manners. She’d ended up eating it with her fork.

“I still agree with Papaw,” Ian said, his lips curving enough to make the dimples appear in his cheeks. “You don’t have to worry about calories, but if you’d like to take a walk after we eat, I know a good place to go.”

“All right, you’re on.” What could a walk hurt? She wasn’t so much worried about getting a workout as she was about finding a way to make this date end on a casual note, and exercise might be just the ticket.

A short time later, Ian drove them back toward town, turning down a side street near the nursing home. The road dead-ended and a park stretched out before them, playground equipment still visible in the fading evening light. The place was empty, save for a couple with three children at the pond feeding the ducks, and two kids on the slide. A stray dog nosed its way around the trash container near a picnic table, then trotted off on some unknown mission.

“This is nice,” Amanda said, watching the family with wistful envy. She tore her gaze away from them with effort. “I’ve been here a few times on my lunch break.”

“The place is usually packed around lunchtime after Sunday church services,” Ian said. “Lots of folks picnic here. It’s also popular with the teenagers for parking on Saturday nights.”

His dark eyes held her gaze long enough for Amanda’s thoughts to travel down a path best left unexplored. Briefly, she wondered if he’d brought her here hoping to indulge in a bit of what the high-school kids came for, but before she could dwell on the thought, Ian opened the truck door and climbed out.

She started to exit the pickup as well, but he hurried around to help her down as he had previously. “Come on. I’ve got something to show you.”

“Oh?” Curiosity played with her emotions as Amanda chastised herself for her silly suspicions. If the man wanted to take advantage of her, he’d had plenty of opportunity the other night in the dark cover of the woods surrounding Granny’s cabin.

They walked toward the center of the park, stopping halfway between the picnic tables and playground equipment. A gazebo Amanda had admired on her last trip here stood, still under construction, encircled by bright orange mesh fencing.

“My cousin and I built this,” Ian said.

“Really?” She looked at him, surprised. “I thought you were a welder.”

“I am. But I’m sort of a jack-of-all-trades. We should have the gazebo finished by this coming weekend.”

“Just in time for ‘Good Neighbor Days.’” Her coworkers had been talking about the upcoming annual pre-summer celebration and town picnic, held the first Saturday of June.

“That’s right.” Ian nodded. “Are you going to come?”

Amanda hesitated. Too much of a good thing—in this case, being around Ian—might prove not to be such a good thing after all. And besides, she’d come to Boone’s Crossing to hide, to heal, not to socialize. “I don’t know.” She avoided his gaze. “I’ll have to see what’s going on.”

“Well, I hope you can make it. I plan to bring Papaw, but I’ll probably have to wheel him over in his chair. My pickup sits too high off the ground for him to get in with his hip and all.”

“I’m sure Zeb will enjoy the outing.” She looked at the gazebo once more, with its intricate woodwork. “You and your cousin did a good job. I’m impressed.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell her you said so.”

“Her?” Amanda raised her eyebrows.

“Yep. Samantha Jo was always handy with a hammer and nails.” He grinned. “She raises a few eyebrows around here with the good ol’ boys.”

Amanda laughed. “I’m impressed. Your family seems to be multitalented. Zeb told me he used to run your welding shop with you.”

“More like the other way around. He and Dad had the shop when I was a kid. Papaw taught me everything I know when it comes to building or fixing things.” He gestured toward the playground equipment. “I built those monkey bars for the kids to climb on. Welded each piece together to make it extra strong. Safe. And I did the ladder for the slide, and the frame and all for the swing set.”

“Wow.” She’d had no idea he was so skilled, and had somehow pictured him welding something of a more generic, shop-related nature. “Are those wooden seats?”

“Yeah. Come on, I’ll show you.”

She followed him to the swing set and stopped in front of it. The frame was made of heavy steel piping, but the swings themselves were indeed old-fashioned-looking wood, suspended from chains. Amanda ran her hand over the surface of one of the brightly painted red-and-blue seats. “It’s so smooth.”

“No splinters that way,” he said. “And the chains are small enough to hold, but big enough not to pinch any little fingers.”

“The nurse in me gives you an A-plus for safety,” she said, with a thumbs-up gesture.

He laughed. “Sounds more like a teacher.”

Sudden melancholy gripped her. “My sister teaches kindergarten,” she said. “Back in Colorado.”

“Yeah?” He nodded approval. “Seems like you’ve got a well-rounded family. Any other siblings?”

“Nope. Just me and Nikki. And you?”

“I’m an only child. Mom’s gone—we lost her to breast cancer some years back—and Dad lives in Virginia.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom,” Amanda said. She focused on some distant point beyond the playground equipment. “Unfortunately, death doesn’t discriminate.”

“No, it doesn’t. What about your folks? Do they live in Colorado?”

She faced him once more, curling her fingers around the chain on one of the swings. “My parents divorced when Nikki and I were too young to remember. I have no idea where my father is. Mom lived in Colorado for a while, when Nik and I were in high school, then she took off again.”

“Again?”

“Yeah.” She quirked her mouth. “She never stays in one place long. That’s why Nikki and I spent our summers with Granny. She was our roots, the one home we knew would always be there. Mom drove us nuts growing up, always making us change schools. We’d barely make friends at one, then move on to another. So we made her promise to stay in one place while we finished high school, and that turned out to be Colorado. But as soon as we were both in college, she took off for Texas, and from there she went to Oklahoma and finally recently ended up in Montana.”

“Wow. I’ve never been out of state, unless you count driving across the line into Kentucky or Virginia.” He paused. “What made your mother want to move around so much, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Amanda sighed and sank absentmindedly onto the swing. Gripping the chains in both hands, she pushed it with her foot enough to make it sway. “Mom’s a dreamer. One time she moved us to Nashville, hoping to become a country star.”

“No foolin’?”

She nodded. “Another time she decided to become a pilot. It only took one flying lesson before she realized that wasn’t her cup of tea. She was always struggling to take care of us and see that we had everything we needed. Nikki and I did what we could to help out with after-school jobs. But each time Mom seemed to think things would be better in the next town, at the next job, and that her dream career was somewhere just out of her reach. Guess you can’t fault her for trying.”

“Nope.” Ian’s face took on a faraway expression. “It must’ve been rough for her, going it alone without your dad.”

“It was.” She wondered if he was thinking about his own son, and if he’d given the child up to make sure the boy had all he would need. How old had Ian been when he’d become a father? Probably not old enough to handle the responsibility. A sudden measure of irritation welled up inside her. “I can’t fathom how some people can walk away from their children while others would give anything to have a baby of their own.”

He turned his head sharply to look straight at her, and immediately she realized how her comment sounded. She’d been thinking of Nikki, and how much she’d wanted to be a mother. And of the many times they’d discussed heartbreaking stories heard on the news, in which some frightened teenager abandoned her baby in a Dumpster.

“Some folks don’t walk away,” Ian said, his tone thick with pain. “There are people who give up their child because it’s the right thing to do.”

“Oh, Ian, I didn’t mean you.” Amanda felt the color flood then drain from her face. “Really, I didn’t.” She swallowed, not wanting to get into an explanation behind her comment—one that would lead to personal issues. She had no desire to talk about the baby she’d lost. The pain was still sharp and fresh, eating her up inside.

“It’s okay,” he said. “Sorry if I sounded short. I know you were talking about your dad.”

“Yes.” Amanda nodded, letting him draw the wrong conclusion.

He was silent a moment. “Hey, how about I push you?” With obvious effort, he’d lightened his tone.

“Push me?”

“Yeah.” He took hold of the chains, above where she gripped them. “When was the last time you played on a swing?”

She laughed in spite of herself. “I don’t know. Longer ago than I care to think about.”

“Well, then you’re overdue for some fun.”

Before Amanda could protest, he pulled the swing backward, lifting her feet off the ground. Her stomach gave a sharp jump at the sudden motion, and she tightened her hands on the chains, letting out a little yelp. Her hair lifted away from her face as Ian let go, giving her a push, sending her forward. She chuckled, feeling silly, and tucked her feet out of the way so they wouldn’t drag. At five-five, she wasn’t exactly tall, but she was still too big for the child-sized swing. Too big, but apparently not too old.

Joyful anticipation rose within her as the swing arced backward once more, and Ian’s hands came firmly into contact with her back, sending her skyward. Higher and higher he pushed the swing, and Amanda clung to the chains, letting the silliness enfold her, leaning back to let her hair fly wildly away from her shoulders as he sent her sailing into the air over and over again. She shrieked with laughter when the swing hit a point so high it bounced on the chains, and Ian gripped her waist as she came back down, his hands steady.

But she’d been ready to thrust forward again, and the momentum of the swing, coupled with his holding on to her, sent her sliding backward instead.

“Whoa!” Ian slipped his arms around her, lost his balance and pulled her off the swing. The two of them tumbled to the ground, and he put out a protective hand to stop the swing from coming back to whack her in the head.

Amanda froze in place, fully realizing what an intimate position they’d ended up in, limbs entwined, their faces mere inches from one another. “I haven’t done that in ages,” she said, attempting to take her mind off the urge to stay right where she was. Ian smelled wonderful, looked even better, and felt so warm and solid, she didn’t want to let go or get up. But she forced herself to do both.

She brushed off the knees of her jeans. “This reminds me of the tree swing Grandpa Satterfield made for Nikki and I when we were small.”

Ian picked up the cap that had tumbled from his head, and put it back on. Amanda straightened, and tried not to notice the way he watched her.

He cleared his throat. “I never really heard Papaw talk about your grandpa.”

“That’s probably because Granny was a widow for so long.” Amanda pushed her hair away from her face with both hands, knowing she must look a mess. “I can barely remember him. The tree swing is one of the only memories I have.”

But Ian wasn’t thinking of swings anymore. The expression in his eyes said he wanted to kiss her, and Amanda took a step backward, making sure she didn’t do something foolish like let him. Or worse still, kiss him first.

“Your hair looks fine,” he said, stilling her motions with a gentle touch to her wrist. “I like it that way.”

“What way?” she joked, in an effort to make light of how he made her feel. “Tangled like a bird’s nest?”

“No.” He reached up to gently pull a strand away from where it had snagged on one of her earrings. “Windblown. Natural. You look like you’ve been having fun.”

She nearly choked. For one crazy second, she’d thought he was about to say she looked like she’d been having sex. Get a hold of yourself! Amanda knew it was only the fact that she hadn’t been intimate with anyone for such a long time that had her thoughts running rampant. It had been one more sore spot between her and Mark, shortly before their breakup. He’d been against the surrogacy procedure for many reasons, but finding out that it meant abstaining from sexual relations until a pregnancy was confirmed had sent him over the edge. The subject had led to their final argument and ultimate parting.

The sobering thoughts brought her back to reality.

“Listen, Ian, I’ve had a wonderful time with you this evening. But I really need to get home.”

“Sure,” he said. “No problem. I had a nice time with you, too.” He pressed his hand against the small of her back, walking her toward his truck.

The gesture was friendly and nothing more, as though he realized he’d overstepped the boundary she’d drawn. Still, Amanda couldn’t stop the feelings his touch evoked, bringing back a reminder of the way his strong hands had pressed against her when he’d pushed her on the swing. Making her wish things were different, and that there could be more than friendship between them. With difficulty, she reminded herself she wasn’t ready for anything more, and that she’d better listen to her head, even if it would have been much more enjoyable to follow her heart.

The heart that told her Ian was everything she’d ever wanted in a man. Warm, funny, sexy, compassionate. She’d seen the pain in his eyes when he’d spoken of his son, and knew he hadn’t made the decision to give up his child lightly. She’d safely bet her last nickel Ian Bonner would make the best father and husband a woman could ask for.

It figured she would find the perfect man now, when she was no longer looking.

IAN HEADED FOR Shade Tree Manor as soon as he’d dropped Amanda off at her place. It was that, or face going home to an empty house with only Cuddles to greet him. There, he might be tempted to sit in the living room and think about how hard it had been to keep his distance from Amanda. It would be easy to dwell on the way she’d made him feel, and take things a step further by pondering what he might do to make her feel the same way about him.

It was obvious Amanda had no interest in getting serious. Which shouldn’t matter, since he barely knew her. But somehow it did matter. He wanted to get to know her better, and planned to see what he could do about that, even if she didn’t want to take things past casual dating. He had time. He wasn’t in a rush to find Mrs. Right. Never had been before now anyway, so what difference did it make if he spent some time with Amanda?

Wondering what issues she was dealing with that had made her come to Boone’s Crossing, Ian strode across the parking lot and into the building. He called out a greeting to the nurses at the front desk, already missing Amanda’s presence. Papaw was watching an old western on cable TV when Ian entered his room.

“Hey, Papaw. How’s it going?”

Zeb gave him a toothless smile. “Fine and dandy.” He reached out to clasp Ian’s hand in an affectionate greeting. His blue eyes twinkled. “So how’d it go? Tell me all the juicy details about your date with Miss Kelly.” He leaned forward in his wheelchair. “Well, not all of ’em, just the G-rated ones.” He cackled and punched Ian in the arm.

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