by Susan Gable
“I’m glad.”
The comfortable silence enveloped them again. He kept stroking her hair. Though sated physically, he craved more. They’d been intimate, he’d been inside her body—and now he wanted to know everything about her. He longed to ask her about her son.
But he didn’t want to spoil the moment.
For either of them.
“James?”
“Mmm?”
“Tell me about Molly’s heart.”
The muscles behind his neck knotted. Apparently they’d been thinking along the same lines. “Molly’s heart? What brought that up? I thought we were young and foolish, without a care in the world right now?”
“Sorry.” She shifted her head. “It’s just that I’m lying here, listening to your strong, steady heartbeat, and thinking about Molly and how amazing she is.”
He smiled in the darkness. “She is. What is it you want to know?”
“What…what kind of a prognosis does she have? Do you know anything about her donor?”
“Her prognosis is pretty good. They can’t give me a definitive answer on how long she will live because the truth is, transplant medicine is still kind of a new frontier.”
“I guess none of us knows how long we—or our children—have.”
Pain laced her voice, and he tightened his arms around her. “That’s very true.”
“What about her donor’s family? Did you ever get in touch with them?”
“I sent a thank-you card. Hardest thing I ever wrote. Every time I reread it, it sounded so lame. Words can’t express how grateful I am to them for saving my little girl’s life or how sorry I am about their little girl. They didn’t write back, though.”
“I—” her voice caught “—I can understand that.”
“I’m sure you can.” He stroked up and down her back.
“I got some stuff from the Organ Procurement Organization, including a letter about two weeks after… I didn’t even open it.”
“Not ready?” he asked gently.
“No, not ready. And believe me, I tried a few times. But maybe when I go home, I’ll dig it out.”
Pride in her progress welled inside him. “Will you tell me more about Daniel?”
“Like what?”
“Like, what was his favorite color? TV show? Did he sleep with a night-light or was he a tough guy?”
Voice soft, she talked about her son, his love for yellow and vehicles of all shapes and sizes, his teddy bear, and his night-light. “He always had a smile for everyone.”
“He must have taken after his mom,” he said. “Hmm. You know, I used to worry that he’d grow up and take after his father….”
He cuddled her closer. “With you for a mom, I doubt that would have happened. He would have grown up knowing how to appreciate a woman, and looking far and wide for one who could measure up to you.”
A blur of white streaked across the night sky, and Rachel tensed at the same time he did. Grateful for the distraction, he nudged her shoulder. “A shooting star!” It faded as quickly as it had flared into life.
“I saw it.”
“Did you make a wish?”
“Now I know you meant it when you said you were a wish-believer. Which do you think is more powerful, a wish on a shooting star, or a firefly wish?”
He rolled over, positioning them both on their sides, face-to-face. He reached out to stroke her cheek. “Well, I don’t know. My firefly wish for a kiss sure came true in a really big way.” Leaning forward, he brushed his mouth over hers—tentatively at first, then he deepened it, pressing more firmly, coaxing her with the tip of his tongue until she opened to him.
Several minutes later, he surfaced for air. “I’ve got another wish. Want to hear it?”
Her eyes fluttered open, dreamy desire evident in them. She nodded.
“I wish to make love to you again.”
She pressed her belly harder against his erection. “Tell me something I don’t know.” She smiled at him.
“Okay, did you know that this time, I’d like to do it in a bed?” He groaned and reached beneath his side. “I think I’m lying on a rock.”
She chuckled. “All right. My place or yours?”
“Yours is closer.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I’ll race you there.”
“Race? Aren’t you worried we’ll fall and get hurt?”
He threw the comforter off them and reached for his clothes. “I’m more worried we won’t make it there fast enough, and I’ll end up grabbing you and making love to you in front of the cabins.”
“Good thing I’m at the end of the line, then.”
“But that won’t save us from the rocks.” Shirt still hanging open, feet shoved into shoes without socks, he gathered up the blanket. “Don’t button too many,” he warned Rachel as she fumbled with her blouse.
A slow grin curved her mouth. “Don’t want to work too hard when we get there, huh?”
“You got it.”
She flicked on the flashlight. “Let’s go.”
Just one night, he reminded himself as he followed her along the path. One incredible night, a night he’d never forget.
But as he watched her hurry ahead of him, he wondered if one night would be enough. If one week would be enough.
In her arms, he remembered what it was to be just a man.
His thoughts turned to his daughter. Molly didn’t deserve to be relegated to second place. It wasn’t her fault she needed so much of his time. And he wouldn’t change her for anything. He loved her exactly the way she was.
His pace slowed, and the gap between Rachel and him lengthened. Amazing how much clearer he could think when she wasn’t close.
When he walked up the creaky steps and onto her porch, she was already waiting, cabin door open. He followed her inside and dumped the comforter onto a chair.
She propped one hip against the back of the sofa, angled her head and studied him for a moment. “Our night’s over already, huh?”
Disappointment was evident in her blue eyes. He shook his head. “Not over. Just temporarily interrupted. I need to check on her.”
“I understand.”
“I figured you would.” He strode to the cabin phone, then checked the time. Only 10:42. Nolan would still be awake; he was a notorious night owl.
“I’ll just freshen up while you make your call,” Rachel said, heading for the bathroom.
He waved her off. The phone rang only once, then Nolan’s voice came across the line. “Hello?”
“Hey. It’s me.”
“Who else would it be? She’s fine. I dragged her and Cherish into the cabin about thirty minutes ago, and they’re settled in for the night. Go make use of those things I gave you and stop worrying.”
“Worrying comes naturally. Are you sure she’s okay?”
“Listen, she’s tucked into bed, snug as a bug in a rug. They’re both probably sound asleep by now.” A raucous burst of little girl shrieks from the background nixed that idea.
“What’s going on? Should I come down and get her?”
Pattering feet, and murmurs about shadows and monkey paws and something he didn’t catch crept across the phone lines. Giggles followed, reassuring him.
“No, it’s just these two are determined to keep me from my date with my wife.”
“Hey, bud, it’s only one night.” James laughed.
“I have no desire to follow in your chaste footsteps. Now, hang up and turn your attention back to that pretty lady you’re with. You are still with her, right?”
He glanced at the closed bathroom door. The sound of running water came from the other side. He grinned as an image of the two of them, beneath the spray of the shower, skin slicked with soap came to his mind.
“Still with her. Tell Molly I love her.”
“Will do. ’Night, Jim.”
Father responsibilities complete, James hung up and turned his attention back to the bathroom door. He shed his shirt, draping it over the coffee tabl
e. Friday night was still young—and for this night, so was he. Young, foolish, and with his cares tucked safely in bed, in the capable hands of his friends.
He pushed the bathroom door open a crack. Steam rushed out. “Rachel? You up for some company in there?”
Water streamed down her face as she peeked around the rainbow-covered shower curtain. “I thought you’d never ask.” She chuckled. “I thought you might find this a better idea than skinny-dipping in the lake. Fewer germs.”
“Hmm, you may be right about that. Maybe I should climb in there and make sure you don’t miss any. Full body search for germs.”
She crooked a finger at him. “So what are you waiting for? Lose those pants and come on in.”
He eagerly accepted her invitation.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THE MAN DRIVING THE SUV while Rachel sat in the passenger’s seat was very different from the one who’d slipped into the shower with her a mere twenty-four hours earlier. That man had embraced the young-and-foolish credo of the night; this one was…she searched for the right word. Brooding. This version of James was definitely brooding.
They’d spent Saturday at a little amusement park in Erie. Camp Firefly Wishes had provided free passes, along with bus transportation to those who needed it. Rachel had planned on a quiet day at camp with all the families gone, but to her surprise and Molly’s delight, James had invited her to tag along with them.
And now he obviously regretted that decision. She shifted on her seat, angling to face him. She spoke softly in deference to the little girl sleeping in the back seat. “You’re mad at me.”
“I’m not mad.”
She studied his profile in the green illumination from the dash. “You seem mad.”
“Well, I’m not.”
“Excuse me, Dr. McClain, but didn’t you tell me that not expressing your emotions was a bad thing?”
“I’m not mad, Rachel. I’m just…”
“What?”
He exhaled loudly. “Slightly annoyed. You undercut my authority as a parent today.”
She wanted to touch him, to lay her hand against his arm and communicate her discontent. But she didn’t dare, not while he was driving. “I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry, James. I had no idea you wouldn’t want her on that roller coaster. For crying out loud, it’s just one step above a kiddie coaster. In fact…” She trailed off, not wanting to explain how much Daniel had wanted to ride that particular coaster during their last outing to Waldameer, and she’d promised him that the next year, he could. That he’d be big enough then.
Taking Molly on the Comet while her dad had been off to the rest rooms hadn’t been an act of subversion on Rachel’s part, it had been an act of remembrance. The little girl had been so excited by the prospect, Rachel got swept along with her enthusiasm. And Molly had loved it. At least until they’d gotten off the ride and come face-to-face with a very unhappy James.
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to go around you. But Molly obviously survived the ride—in fact, she had a good time. You keep her on such a short leash. No swimming, no bumper cars, no roller coasters…when Cherish, who has the same condition, does all those things and more. I thought you said you brought her to camp to have a normal summer and some fun?”
“She’s having fun.”
The hum of the SUV’s air-conditioning filled the hole in the conversation as Rachel decided the point wasn’t worth arguing. She was trying to make up with the man, not antagonize him. She watched out the window as the dark shapes of trees darted past.
A low moan emerged from the back seat. James cast a quick glance over his shoulder. “Molly? Honey, are you all right?”
“No-o-o.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I think I’m gonna barf. Pull over. Now!”
As the car came to a stop, Rachel vaulted out onto the side of the road. Molly’d already popped open her door and bolted for the grass. Rachel held the long red ponytail with one hand and rubbed Molly’s back with the other while the poor kid threw up. Gravel scuffed as James crossed behind the vehicle and joined them.
When Molly finally straightened, Rachel went to the car and returned with several napkins—she’d known James would have a supply in the glove box—and a bottle of water. “Here, honey, swish your mouth out with this.”
“I hope you don’t have food poisoning from something you ate.”
Molly wiped her face with the tissue. “More like everything I ate,” she mumbled. “Oh, Dad, you’re right. Too much junk food is bad for you.”
“Too much junk food?” James guided his daughter back into the SUV.
Rachel climbed into the passenger’s seat and turned around to see Molly nod glumly. “I was sneaking food all day. I had funnel cake, and cotton candy, lemonade, ice cream, fudge, French fries, part of a candy apple and a chocolate chip cookie.” She sighed and slumped against the beige leather as he fastened her seat belt without a word, slammed the door and climbed back in the front.
He glared at Rachel before starting the engine and turning off the flashers.
She held her hands up. “Don’t look at me. I swear, I did not sneak your child treats behind your back.”
Molly moaned softly as the car pulled onto the highway. “Don’t blame Miss Rachel, Dad. She didn’t know I was helping myself to her snacks, and Cherish’s and Nolan’s. She was too busy looking at you when you weren’t looking.”
Heat rose in Rachel’s cheeks. She adjusted the air-conditioning vents, aiming them onto her face.
James cleared his throat. “Let this be a lesson to you, young lady. I don’t say no just because I like to hear myself say it.”
Molly mumbled her less-than-enthusiastic agreement.
The rest of the ride to camp passed uneventfully. When they parked in front of the little blue cabin, Rachel gathered up her purse and slid from the SUV. James met her at the car door.
“Thanks for inviting me. I had a good time,” she said. “Well, mostly.”
“I’d like to make up for that ‘mostly’ part. You want to hang around a few minutes while I get Molly settled in bed?”
“Okay. Should I wait out here?”
“Wherever. In the living room, on the porch, just make yourself comfortable.” James opened the back door and unfastened Molly’s seat belt, then scooped the sleeping child into his arms. Her head lolled against his shoulder, and for a moment, Rachel didn’t know which of them she envied more— the child or the parent. Many times she’d carried Daniel in a similar fashion. She walked ahead of James and held the screened door open, then ducked around him to open the cabin’s main door.
“Thanks,” he murmured. “I’ll be right back.”
James wrestled with his emotions as he carted Molly to her bedroom. He was mad at himself for being petty with Rachel. He knew she hadn’t undercut him intentionally. He’d mentally kicked himself the moment he’d seen the excitement leave both her and Molly’s faces when he’d confronted them after the roller coaster. But still…he had his rules, and Molly had to live by them.
He laid his daughter on the far side of the double bed, then took off her sneakers and socks. She hated sleeping with a ponytail—always complained the next morning how much it hurt. So James carefully worked the rubber band out and freed the thick, shoulder-length waves. He pulled back the covers, then tucked her in, clothes and all. She stirred slightly. “Don’t forget…kiss me good-night.”
“Never happen, Unsinkable.” He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead as she groaned at the nickname, then pressed his lips against the same spot. The skin temperature was cool, so he decided the upset stomach was probably from all the junk food. “I love you.”
“Love you, too. Don’t forget to kiss Miss Rachel good-night, too.”
The idea held great appeal. There had been moments at the park when he’d had to fight the urge to take Rachel’s hand in his. And having her lean against him, cradled between his spr
ead thighs while they rode the log flume, had been utter torture. Delightful torture, but torture nonetheless. It provoked too many images of last night’s lovemaking. “Hey. We agreed that kissing is totally my business, not yours.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Molly rolled over onto her side and snuggled into the pillow and covers as James flicked the switch and pulled the door partially closed.
The only light in the main room came from the one over the kitchen sink and the porch, so he waited a moment for his eyes to adjust. Rachel stood just inside the cottage, near the table. “Come and sit with me for a few minutes.” He gestured toward the sofa. “I want to explain my behavior today.”
“You don’t have to explain.”
“I don’t have to, but I want to. Need to.” He waved at the couch again. “Come on. Please?”
“All right.”
She sat at one end and he in the middle. He turned sideways to face her, his arm draped along the back of the couch. “I know you didn’t mean to undermine my authority today. I’m sorry I even said that. It’s just…well, for one thing, I’m not used to having anyone else make decisions where Molly’s concerned.”
Rachel gave him a weak smile. “If I were writing your report card, I’d have to put ‘Doesn’t share well with others,’ huh?”
“I guess.” He shrugged. “She’s my life, Rachel. After being around all these other transplant parents for a week, I’m starting to see that maybe I’m a bit overprotective—”
“A bit?” Her smile widened.
“All right, maybe a little more than a bit. But I almost lost her. And the idea of that, it…scares the hell out of me.”
Compassion flooded her eyes. “I can understand that.”
“So I’m forgiven?” He brushed his fingertips over her shoulder.
“There’s nothing to forgive. You’re a concerned dad, that’s all.”
Looking at the soft features of her face, letting his fingers dance over the smooth skin at the back of her neck, being a concerned dad was rapidly fading from his mind. “I’ve waited all day for this,” he whispered, leaning forward and pressing his mouth to hers for a brief kiss.