Harlequin Superromance December 2013 - Bundle 1 of 2: Caught Up in YouThe Ranch She Left BehindA Valley Ridge Christmas

by Beth Andrews

  “I hear that.”

  Max ran down the hall only to whirl around. “I forgot the present!”

  Leaving Eddie to open the door.

  He set a hand towel in the laundry basket, then made his way as slowly as humanly possible toward his ex-wife. Ever since Eddie had told Max Lena was coming, he’d done his best to bring up the subject, as casually as possible, at least once a day. It hadn’t been easy, but Eddie wanted Max to feel comfortable talking about his mom. Wanted his son to know it was perfectly natural for him to be excited about spending time with her. Not that Max acted excited.

  Until now.

  He’d done a good thing, Eddie assured himself. Was doing the right thing, for both Max and Lena, by telling Max his mom wanted to see him, letting Lena take him out to dinner and a movie. He just wished doing the right thing wasn’t so damn hard.

  She knocked again.

  He reached out but yanked his hand back before touching the knob. Rubbed his fingertips against his palm. Heard Max’s clomping footsteps in the kitchen.

  He opened the door.

  “Hello, Eddie,” she said, her voice unsteady, anxiety clear in her brown eyes.

  “Lena,” he said, stepping aside so she could come in. “Max will be out in a second.”

  She’d lost weight. She’d always been slim, her legs and arms long, her figure more angles than curves, but now her cheeks were sunken, her collarbones standing out in sharp relief. Her hair, the same oak brown it’d always been, was short as a boy’s, the strands barely two inches long.

  From the cancer, he realized, his fingers tightening on the door handle. From the disease that could have taken her life and the treatments used to save her.

  He shut the door. Cleared his throat. “How are you feeling?” he asked, speaking more gently than he had since their first year of marriage.

  She smiled, a quick, unsure quirk of her lips, as if she didn’t quite know whether his concern was real. “I’m good. I still tire easily but I’m getting stronger every day.”

  Nodding, he shoved his hands into his pockets. “I’m glad.”

  He never wanted her sick or suffering. They’d loved each other once. He may not trust her change of heart concerning Max but he didn’t want anything bad to happen to her.

  He just didn’t want her in his son’s life.

  Max hurried down the hall. Lena’s entire face lit with joy. Love. “Max. Hi. Oh, my goodness, you’ve gotten so big.”

  She dropped to her knees on the tile floor but Max froze. Frowned. “Where’s your hair?” he blurted.

  Lena touched the side of her head. Cleared her throat. “I got it cut. What do you think?”

  Max’s horrified gaze flew to Eddie. “It looks pretty,” Eddie said. “Right, bud?”

  It was never too early to learn how to say what a woman wanted to hear.

  Too bad Max didn’t seem to agree. “Uh...”

  Lena laughed. “Don’t worry. It’ll grow back.”

  “Good,” Max whispered, stepping close enough for Lena to pull him into her arms.

  She gave him a smacking kiss on the cheek. “You must have grown three inches since the last time I saw you!”

  After his mother finished squeezing the breath out of him, Max patiently endured her inspection of his person. She ruffled his hair, commented on his new tooth coming in, told him how much she loved his Star Wars T-shirt.

  “I made you something,” Max told her, holding out a messily wrapped gift.

  “You did? That is so sweet. Thank you.” Lena took the present, leaned back on her heels and opened it. She gasped, covered her mouth with her hand, her fingers unsteady. “Oh. Oh...”

  Her eyes welled with tears and Max shot Eddie a panicked look, slid over to press against his side.

  “Sometimes women cry when they’re happy,” Eddie told him, gently squeezing his shoulder.

  “Like when Nonna cried on her birthday?”

  “Yep.” Rose had been touched by the week-long trip to Toronto her kids had all gone in on together, but Eddie suspected a few of his mom’s tears were for the fifty-five candles on her cake.

  “It’s beautiful,” Lena said, running her fingers over the glass.

  It was. Max and Harper had read some book about a hungry caterpillar this week during their first tutoring session. When Max mentioned how much his mom loved butterflies, Harper had given him time each day to work on a painting for Lena.

  The background was a blending of light blue and white, the butterfly a deeper blue. He’d added white swirls of varying widths and lengths to the butterfly’s spread wings and outlined the creature in a bright gold.

  “Dad helped me make the frame,” Max said.

  Lena glanced at Eddie, sniffed. “Thank you.”

  He hadn’t done it for her; he’d done it because Max had been so excited to make something for his mom. But now, seeing the very real gratitude on Lena’s face, Eddie was glad he’d been a part of it.

  But ultimately, it had all been Harper’s idea.

  “I can’t wait to hang it up in my apartment,” Lena said as she straightened. She smiled at Max. “Maybe someday you can come to Chicago. See how it looks in the living room.”

  Max had been to Chicago only once. It’d been six months after their divorce had been finalized, and Lena had flown to Pittsburgh, then taken a three-year-old Max with her. He was supposed to stay two weeks.

  She’d brought him back four days later when she’d been asked to fly to New York for a fashion show.

  “Well,” Lena said. “Shall we go, Max? I’m starving. I thought we’d eat at Panoli’s.”

  Panoli’s was Shady Grove’s best pizzeria. And Max’s favorite place to eat other than his nonna’s.

  “Can we go to the movies?” he asked her, still leaning against Eddie’s side.

  “We can do whatever you want to do.”

  “We checked out the movie listings,” Eddie said when Max stayed quiet. “There are two shows he wants to see, one starts at seven, the other at seven-twenty.”

  She checked the chunky, silver watch on her wrist. “We’d better get going then.”

  She held out her hand.

  Eddie’s fingers tightened slightly on Max’s shoulder and he quickly relaxed them. Gave his son an encouraging pat. Max hesitated then stepped forward, linking his hand with his mother’s.

  Forcing Eddie to let him go.

  * * *

  THE MOMENT EDDIE stepped inside Harper’s house, it started raining.

  With the grim mood he was in, Harper couldn’t help but think it wasn’t just coincidence.

  Now they sat across from each other at her kitchen table, Max’s schoolwork from the week in front of them, light static crackling from the baby monitor on the counter. Cass had fallen asleep on the way home from day care, had stayed dead to the world as Harper carried her inside and put her in her crib.

  Thank God. If she knew “Deddie” was here, they’d never get anything done.

  “As you can see,” Harper said to Eddie, “Max did a little better on this week’s math quiz.”

  Eddie studied the quiz as if the answers to world peace were on it. “So the tutoring’s helping.”

  “He did a little better.” She pointed to the grade in the corner—a D. “But you have to take into consideration that it was a review quiz, which gives me a better sense of where everyone is at before moving on to the next section. And he was able to focus because he took the test while the rest of the kids were at the library.”

  Because he hadn’t finished in the time allotted. When she’d collected the quizzes, she’d noticed he’d completed two of the problems and had sent the rest of the class to the library, keeping Max in the room to get through the quiz in peace.

  Al
l of which Eddie knew. He’d been in the class today helping, had taken the kids down the two flights of stairs to the library, stayed with them while the librarian had read them a story and checked out their books.

  He’d looked a bit glassy-eyed and pale by the time he’d ushered them into their classroom, but he’d survived. Of course, he’d been short two girls, but he’d found them playing in the stairwell quickly enough.

  “Unfortunately, Max struggled again on his spelling test.” Harper handed that paper over along with the progress report she’d written. “I noted what he and I did during each tutoring session, as well as whether the technique we implemented helped.”

  “He pays attention at home,” Eddie murmured. “Once I pry that video game out of his hands, anyway.”

  “That’s not unusual. Most kids with Max’s problem—” no sense calling it ADHD before Eddie allowed him to be officially screened for it “—do better without all the distractions that come with being in a class filled with other kids. But if you do find him daydreaming or losing focus, try letting him stand to do his work or he can walk around the house once for each math problem he finishes.”

  Eddie wrote that down. His head was bent, his dark hair recently trimmed—he and Max had gone to the barber Tuesday night—so that it lay in soft, messy waves. A frown of concentration wrinkled his brow, and his mouth was tense.

  She suppressed a smile. He was so cute, so sweet, jotting down notes of ways to help his son.

  And believe her, cute and sweet were not words she ever would have thought she’d use when describing Eddie.

  I didn’t think of you that way in high school. That may have been a mistake.

  She’d had no clue what he’d meant when he’d murmured those words to her. Still didn’t. But she’d wondered about it, oh, only a hundred times or so since Sunday. Worse, she’d dreamed of him. Just once, just that Sunday night, but it had been so steamy, so erotic, she’d awaken sweaty and aroused.

  And so guilt-ridden she hadn’t been able to get back to sleep.

  After that, she’d stayed up late each night until she hadn’t been able to keep her eyelids open another moment. Only then would she fall into bed and slip into a dreamless sleep.

  “Anything else I should try?” he asked.

  She pulled out the paper she’d typed up during last night’s stay-up-to-the-point-of-exhaustion-so-you-don’t-have-the-energy-for-sexy-dreams-about-the-man-across-from-you session. “I thought it’d be better if you incorporate a few techniques a week—one to three. That way Max won’t feel overwhelmed with changes, and we can build on each step.”

  He read the list. Scowled. “I don’t see how his having a clean work area is going to help him bring his math grade up.”

  “Like I said,” she told him, striving for patience, “we’re building on each step. These are just the beginning.” She got up and moved to the seat next to him. “These are all things to help him focus and complete his tasks. Having an uncluttered workspace will give him fewer distractions. Where does he usually do his homework?”

  “At the kitchen table. While I’m making dinner.”

  “Okay. So, the first thing you can do is review the daily homework schedule with Max. I’ll write one up and send it home with him when there are assignments due. Have him read it to you, then go over it again together. Next, make sure the table is clear of any clutter, then have him list the items he’ll need to do his assignments and have him get them out. Pencil, worksheet, spelling list, et cetera. Just don’t let him bring anything to the table that is not necessary to accomplishing his homework. No rubber bands, not an apple left over from lunch, or the baseball card he brought in for show-and-tell.

  “And if you could keep track of how well Max does with each assignment—was it difficult for him? Did he get frustrated or angry? How long did it take him to complete the assignment? That’ll give me a better idea of what areas we need to tweak. Oh,” she added excitedly, “I came across this book online I thought could help.” She dug through her papers, found the printout of the website page. “Using Art to Teach Reading Comprehension Strategies.”

  He didn’t even look at the paper. He was too busy staring at her face. “You love it,” he murmured.

  “I’m not sure. I haven’t actually seen it yet, let alone used it.”

  “Not the book. Teaching.”

  “Believe me, most teachers love what they do or they wouldn’t do it.”

  “Not even for summers off?”

  “It may be why some people choose to go into this profession, but for most of us it’s not that. Don’t get me wrong, summer vacation is a nice perk, but the way I see it, all those three months do is help counterbalance the other issues teachers have to deal with the remaining nine months.”

  “What issues?” he asked, sounding sincere. Interested.

  “Upper administration and their never-ending political wars. Budget cuts, long days and a salary that’s lower than that of other workers with college degrees. We’re also on the front lines when it—”

  “Now who’s been doing internet research?” he asked, his mouth twitching as if he was fighting a grin.

  “Just because it’s online doesn’t mean it’s not true. I think. Anyway, we’re also on the front lines when it comes to parents. Parents who are uninvolved to the point of neglect, those who are too involved—coming in the room every day, pushing their kids to be number one. Parents who believe their little darlings are perfect and blame their child’s bad behavior on everything and everyone but the child.”

  “Like I did.”

  “No and yes. When Max misbehaved you didn’t go to the principal and tell him I was picking on your kid and demand his recess privileges be restored. You backed me up and, as an educator, I appreciate that. But, you were also the first one who accused me of not doing enough to help him learn.”

  “I was wrong.”

  “I believe I made that clear when it happened.”

  “I was wrong,” he repeated gruffly, leaning across the table to cover her hand with his. She froze, her breath locking in her chest. “I’m sorry.”

  His hand was warm, the pads of his fingers rough as he brushed them back and forth against her knuckles. She jumped to her feet and gathered her papers. “That...it’s okay. Do you have any other questions for me about Max?” she asked, keeping her gaze on the table.

  “I think I’m good. I’m just...”

  She looked up. “You’re just what?”

  Eddie drummed his fingers on the table. “I’m worried about making all of these allowances for Max. Giving him extra time to finish his math quiz. Letting him stand while he does his work, going over the directions three times to make sure he gets them.... What if he starts to think that’s how it’s supposed to be? Him getting special treatment? That’s not real life.”

  “He’s seven. He shouldn’t have to face real life yet.” But she understood his worries. “Think of it this way—kids who are advanced get certain concessions an average student doesn’t. They’re part of enrichment groups, get to leave class for reading and math, have extra spelling words added to their list. What we’re trying to do with kids at this age is figure out how best they learn so they can use these tips and tricks throughout the remainder of their schooling and their lives.”

  He blew out a heavy breath. “Yeah. Okay.” He stood, picked up his paperwork, flicked the corner of the folder with his thumb. Flick. Flick. Flick. “I appreciate this.” He tipped his head toward the table. “You taking the time to meet with me.”

  “I’m happy to do it. Do you mind meeting here every week? I like to pick Cass up from day care as early as possible on Fridays.” With Eddie having to get Max home to wait for his mom, Harper had suggested he come over instead of meeting at the school.

  “I could come to the school before four if tha
t helps.”

  “It’s just...easier for me if we do it here.”

  Though her daughter wasn’t the only reason she wanted to continue meeting at her home. She didn’t want too many people to know exactly how many allowances she was giving Max and, in effect, Eddie.

  He shrugged, which she was taking as a yes—mostly because she needed it to be a yes.

  “Great. If you have any questions or concerns before next Friday, you can send a note in with Max or call me during school hours—”

  “Or I could tell you when I come in.”

  She shut her eyes briefly. “Right. Of course.”

  He was the classroom helper for a few more weeks. Seemed as if just when she finally rid her thoughts of him, he showed up, live and in person, and the torment started all over again.

  “I’d better get going,” he said. “I’m sure you have plans.”

  Was he asking if she had plans? And if he was asking and she didn’t have plans, did that mean he was going to ask her to make plans with him?

  “Actually,” she said as they walked through the house, “Sadie invited us over for dinner but I declined. Sometimes it’s nice to stay at home. Catch up on a few things.”

  There. That should make it clear she wasn’t some lonely widow, jumping at any chance to leave the house.

  Even if the few things she needed to catch up on were laundry, dishes and reruns of Friends.

  “I’d rather stay home,” he said, “but Maddie—my sister—badgered me into going out to eat with her.”

  Guess he hadn’t been fishing about her plans, hadn’t been trying to see if he’d have an opening to ask her to spend the evening with him.

  If she was disappointed, no one had to know but her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  FOR THE FIRST time since he could remember, Eddie hoped a woman would keep talking.

  He must be losing his freaking mind.

  But when Harper stopped chatting with him about Max or her job or asking him once again if he had any other questions, he’d have no reason to stay. When they reached her door—in a matter of mere seconds—he would have to leave.