by Gina Wilkins
A flicker of hope lit the boy’s eyes. “What about you?” he asked softly, shyly.
“I would be very proud to have you as a part of my family,” Cody said evenly. “Trust me on that, okay? But you have to understand, this isn’t my decision to make. It’s up to your mom and your sisters. All of them love you, and all of them want the very best for you.”
Andy swallowed. “I know.”
“Besides, there’s no need to worry about this now, okay? The doctor said your mom is doing okay now. He gave her something to help her get a good night’s sleep. She’ll wake up feeling much better tomorrow, I’m sure. She’ll want to see you then, and you need to get some rest so you’ll feel like visiting with her and cheering her up.”
“Okay, Cody.”
Cody moved the video game to the nightstand and pulled the covers back to let Andy crawl beneath them. He tucked the boy in carefully, making sure Tramp was close by.
“Good night, Andy,” he said, forcing his voice past the uncomfortable lump in his throat. “See you in the morning, okay?”
Andy came off the pillow in a rush, locking his arms around Cody’s neck. Cody pulled the boy into a tight hug.
It seemed to be his night to offer comfort to the Preston siblings. And he was stunned to realize he’d allowed himself to get very personally involved-with both of them.
A sound from the doorway made him look up, over the boy’s head. Dana stood there watching him, one hand resting on the doorframe. Her eyes were warm, soft. He didn’t know how long she’d been there, how much she’d overheard.
Oh, Dana, don’t look at me like that. Don’t make me into something I’m not.
She didn’t seem to receive the mental message. Her expression didn’t change as she came into the room, still looking at him in a way that made his stomach tighten.
“I just came to say good-night,” she said as Andy settled back down into the pillows, his cheeks a bit flushed. She bent over to kiss her brother’s forehead. “Sleep well, sweetie.”
“‘Night, Dana. Love you.”
“I love you, Andy.” She released him reluctantly, then smoothed the covers to his chin. “Good night. And good night to you, too, Tramp.”
Andy giggled as Dana snapped off the bedside lamp. The sound was a welcome one to the adults who’d heard him cry.
“You’d better get some sleep if you’re going to sit up with Barbara later tonight,” Cody urged Dana when they stepped out of Andy’s room, pulling the door closed behind them.
“Yes, I will. Are you going to bed?”
He glanced at his watch. Just after ten. He hadn’t gone to bed this early in years. But since the alternative was to go downstairs and sit with Alan and Lynette, he nodded. “Yeah. I think I will turn in.”
“All right. Good night.”
“Good night, Dana. Sleep well.”
She surprised him then by stepping closer and rising onto her tiptoes to press a warm, brief kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”
“For-for what?” he asked, after pausing to clear his throat.
“For being here for Andy. I’ll never forget how kind you’ve been to him.”
“Dana—”
Again, she forestalled his words by turning away. “Good night, Cody. See you in the morning.”
And again, she slipped away before he could respond.
As he entered his own room and snapped on the light, Cody realized that he was still holding a hand to his cheek, where Dana had kissed him.
He dropped it with a weary curse.
This was all getting terribly complicated.
Chapter Nine
Monday morning, Labor Day, was warm, bright, cloudless. Cody imagined how many families were out boating, or picnicking, or barbecuing on their patios. His own, for example.
The Preston household was quiet, everyone tiptoeing around, careful not to disturb Barbara. Most of the occupants looked tired, as though sleep had not come easily to them.
Cody knew he didn’t look any better than the others. He’d spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, wondering if the Fates were having a big laugh at his expense.
He put on a cheerful face for Andy’s sake. Together, they polished off huge bowls of presweetened cereal for breakfast. Lynette and Alan, dining on fruit and yogurt, visibly shuddered at the sight. Afterward, Cody suggested going outside to work on Andy’s free throws.
Andy politely invited Alan to join them. Alan actually looked tempted, until Lynette reminded him that he had said there was some paperwork he wanted to finish before noon.
“Think Alan could’ve hit the basket?” Andy asked as he dribbled the ball in preparation for his first shot.
“Oh, sure. Probably,” Cody answered airily. With a pole, maybe.
“I don’t know,” Andy murmured, bending his knees the way Cody had taught him as he prepared to shoot. “I bet he’d need you to show him how.”
He released the ball, held his breath as it arched near the basket, then let out a breath of disgust when it hit the rim and bounced away.
“Happens to everyone,” Cody assured him. “Try again.”
Approximately half an hour had passed when Dana joined them. Cody noted the faint signs of weariness on her face, then couldn’t help thinking that they made no difference to her loveliness. She looked great in a dark green, short-sleeved tunic decorated with painted flowers, and matching, formfitting leggings. Her auburn hair was slightly tousled, as though she’d been running her fingers through it.
Cody curled his hands into fists, resisting the temptation to run his own fingers through her soft tresses.
“Hi, Dana. Watch,” Andy said, and carefully aimed at the basket. He was delighted when the ball sailed neatly through the hoop.
“Very good, Andy. You’re getting much better, I can tell.”
“Thanks. You want to play with us?”
“I’ll play with you for a little while. Cody, Barbara is asking to see you.”
Cody stumbled in surprise. “Me?” he repeated. “She wants to see me?”
“Yes.” Dana shrugged slightly to indicate that she was as much in the dark as he was. “She’s waiting for you now.”
Cody gulped. “Okay. I’ll just, er, go on in, then.”
He was aware that Dana watched him as he entered the house.
Cody tapped lightly on Barbara’s bedroom door. Hilda opened it. She stepped aside with a smile. “She’s waiting for you. I’ll go wash up the breakfast dishes. Call if you need me.”
Cody nodded and entered the room, his eyes on Barbara. She looked like hell, he thought…He could tell the difference in her condition just from the two previous days he’d spent with her.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, pulling a straight chair close to the bed and sitting on the edge of it.
She managed a smile. “Like hell,” she said, eerily echoing his thoughts.
Cody was startled into a chuckle. “Yeah. That’s about what I thought.” And then he sobered. “Is there anything I can do?”
“I want to talk to you.”
He waited patiently for her to begin.
She drew a deep breath. “Do you love Dana?” she asked without preface.
Cody swallowed. He held Barbara’s gaze with his own, aware that his answer meant a great deal to her. “Yes,” he said evenly, without even blinking. “I do.”
The lie rolled off his tongue with an audible sincerity that rather surprised him.
Or had it been a lie?
That uncomfortable thought almost made him squirm on the chair. He told himself he was being foolish, carried away by the masquerade. Of course he wasn’t in love.
He admired Dana, more as the weekend progressed. And, yeah, he was attracted to her. More each time he saw her.
He wanted her—but that didn’t mean he loved her.
He wasn’t ready for love. Didn’t know if he would ever be ready for that.
Barbara smiled. “I was sure you loved her,” she murmured
in satisfaction. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”
He smiled back at her, his conscience kicking him in the gut. “Do you feel better now?”
“Partly. There’s something else.”
Cody resisted an impulse to tug at his shirt collar. “What is it?”
“Your business in Arkansas—it’s successful? You’re making a good living with it?”
He lifted an eyebrow, a reaction of curiosity more than offense. “It’s doing well enough. My partner and I haven’t had any real complaints.”
“I know you think I’m being vulgarly inquisitive,” she said apologetically. “Please forgive me for being a prying old woman.”
“Barbara,” he said, reaching out to cover her frail hand with his own. “You aren’t old.”
She didn’t smile. “I’m as old as I’m going to be,” she said quietly.
There was nothing he could say in response to that.
“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” she apologized again. “But I don’t have time for tactful prevarications now, Cody. I have to know—I have to be sure that I’ve done all I can to make my children happy. To know that they’ll be all right when I’m gone.”
“I wouldn’t worry about your children. Any of them,” Cody assured her. “You have a fine family, Barbara. You can be proud of the job you’ve done with them.”
Her eyes glowed. “Thank you for saying that. It means a great deal to me.”
“I’m just calling it the way I see it.”
“I like you, Cody. I knew I would when I heard Dana talk about you. I’m so happy that you’ll be here for her.”
“For as long as she needs me,” he said, and this time it was the absolute truth.
Barbara moistened her pale, chapped lips. “Andy came in to see me this morning before breakfast.”
“Yes, I know. He told me. He said he thought you looked fine.”
“Andy sees what he wants to see.”
Cody nodded, knowing she was right.
“He’s very fond of you, you know. You’ve become his new hero. He loves you like the big brother he’s always longed for.”
Cody felt his cheeks warm. “I’m no hero. But Andy’s a great kid, Barbara. And I love him, too—as Dana’s little brother and for his own sake.”
“He told me about his dinner with Alan and Lynette last night. He didn’t seem to enjoy it much.”
“I don’t think Andy’s all that interested in the stock market right now,” Cody replied lightly, afraid he knew now where the conversation was leading.
Barbara didn’t seem to have heard him. “Andy loves his sister, of course. Both his sisters. But he and Dana have always had a special bond. Maybe because Dana was younger when he was born. Maybe because her father made sure to always include her in his new family.”
She sighed. “God knows he tried to include Lynette, too, but she was so afraid of appearing disloyal to her own father. She never fully accepted my second husband, to my deep regret.”
“The children of divorce often suffer from divided loyalties,” Cody assured her. “I’m sure you did whatever you could to make it easier for her.”
“I tried. Her father—well, he didn’t help me much, I’m afraid. But that’s not important now. What is important is Andy’s happiness. He’s going to need a lot of love, a great deal of understanding and patience.”
Thinking of the similar conversation he’d had with Alan Manningly, Cody nodded.
Barbara sighed. “I know Lynette loves her little brother, in her own way. I’ve never quite understood Alan. I suppose he’s always been kind enough to Andy. But as far as loving him. well, I’m just not sure.”
Cody nodded again, his tongue between his teeth to keep him from speaking imprudently.
“Dana has asked me several times to consider changing my will to name her Andy’s guardian. I suppose she’s talked to you about that?”
“Yes,” Cody admitted. “She has.”
“And how do you feel about it?” Barbara asked, her toointent eyes fixed on his face.
His throat tightened. He knew what she was asking—and why. She believed she was speaking to Dana’s future husband.
He chose his words carefully. “I think Dana could provide Andy with the most loving and supportive home anyone could ever ask for him.”
“I know that. I’ve always known it. But—” She made a rueful face. “Dana calls me old-fashioned. I am in many ways, especially when it comes to family. I hesitated to leave Andy to Dana because I wasn’t sure a single young woman could provide a stable home for a spirited boy. And I knew she wouldn’t be able to complete her education if she were solely responsible for her little brother.
“The money wouldn’t be a problem for her—my estate is large enough to leave Andy well provided for, at least until he’s grown and on his own. I’m leaving Dana enough to help her finish school. It’s the very least I can do for her when she’s been so good to me. But the responsibility of caring for him—for any child—is a full-time one. And Dana has always taken her responsibilities very seriously.”
“Yes. She does,” Cody agreed almost grimly.
He knew there were few people, if any, who would say the same about him. Jake, maybe. Certainly not Dana.
“I guess what I’m asking you, Cody, is can I count on you to help Dana if I entrust her with my son’s future? It will mean a great sacrifice for you, as well. You’ll be a newlywed with a ready-made family, a father before you’ve learned to be a husband. I want to know that you’ll willingly accept that role, that neither Dana nor Andy will suffer because of my decision.”
This was the very situation Cody had dreaded. Dana’s happiness, Barbara’s peace of mind-Andy’s entire future—rested squarely on Cody’s shoulders now. And God only knew he was no Atlas.
“Barbara—” he began.
She held up an unsteady hand. “I want you to know that I’ll understand, whatever your decision might be. I won’t think any less of you if you decide you aren’t ready for a commitment of this magnitude, I promise you. Lynette and Alan will provide a good home for Andy, give him every possible advantage. I have faith that, in time, they will both learn to love him as deeply as Dana and I do. I’m not worried about leaving him with them-not really.”
“Andy would have every material and cultural advantage with the Manninglys,” Cody agreed. “But I’m not so sure he’d be completely happy with them. Not the way he’d be with Dana.”
She watched him, a gleam of hope in her pain-faded eyes.
Cody pictured Dana’s worried face. Andy’s trusting smile. He drew a deep breath, and knew his own decision had been made. “If you choose to leave Andy with Dana, you won’t have to worry about either of them, Barbara. I promise you that. Whatever I can do, whatever they need from me, they’ve got it. They’re my family now—and I take care of my family. It’s the way I was raised, you see.”
Her smile was tremulous. “You won’t regret this?” she asked.
“No,” he said, conviction ringing in his voice. “I won’t regret it. Dana and Andy should be together. It wouldn’t be right for me—or for anyone else—to stand between them.”
Barbara closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. “I knew you were right for Dana. Somehow I just knew it. Oh, Cody, thank you.”
“Does this mean you’ve made your decision?”
She nodded against the pillow. “Yes. I’d like to see Dana now. Would you ask her to come in, please? Lynette, too.”
Cody fought down a sudden surge of panic. Oh, hell, what had he done? What consequences would his rash actions have on these lives?
Why were they all acting as though they could depend on him to solve all their problems for them when it was all he could do to manage his own?
“I’ll send them in,” he said, hoping his turmoil wasn’t visible on his expression.
She tugged at his hand, pulling him down to kiss his cheek. “My Dana has chosen wisely, Cody Carson. I always knew she would.
”
As Cody left the room, he found himself longing for his grandmother. How he could use Granny Fran’s calm, practical, straightforward advice right now!
He rather guiltily suspected that she wouldn’t entirely approve of his behavior this weekend, no matter how well intentioned his actions had been.
Cody was summoned back to Barbara’s bedroom some time later that afternoon. Dana was alone with her stepmother when Cody entered the room. He noted that she looked faintly stunned when she met his eyes, her own huge and damp.
Barbara looked very tired, but satisfied. “I’ve told Lynette and Dana that I want to name Dana as Andy’s guardian,” she informed Cody, her voice weaker than it had been earlier. “I’ve already called my attorney and asked him to change my will and bring it by this evening for me to sign. He’s a good friend. I know I can depend on him to take care of this for me.”
Cody took Dana’s hand and smiled at her. “Dana will take good care of your son, Barbara. I’m sure she will.” He only hoped he hadn’t ruined Dana’s own future with his reluctant interference.
“Yes, I know,” Barbara murmured. “She’ll have you to help her, won’t she?”
“Er, yes, of course.”
Barbara nodded against her pillows. “I’m counting on you, Cody. Both of you. Please don’t disappoint me. This is much too important.”
Cody swallowed hard. The imagined weight on his shoulders doubled. He almost staggered beneath the burden. Instead, he held his chin high and said, “I won’t fail you, Barbara.” God help me.
Dana’s fingers tightened convulsively in Cody’s-whether from gratitude or distress, he couldn’t tell.
Barbara’s smile turned radiant. “I know you won’t, dear. And now, if you’ll forgive me, I have one favor left to ask you. And it’s a big one.”
Bigger than being responsible for her only son’s future well-being? Cody wondered in near panic. Surely not.
A look of sympathy crossed Barbara’s pale face. “You’re probably wishing you’d stayed home in Percy this weekend, Cody. It would have been much simpler, wouldn’t it?”