Shenandoah Christmas. Lynnette Kent
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said you were with the Secret Service. Quite a glamorous job.”
“Not unless something bad happens. Mostly it’s planning, and more planning, then standing around waiting for the unplanned to occur.”
“There are some radically unbalanced people out there, though, desperate to get noticed any way they can.”
“No kidding. Have you had problems?” He glanced in the rearview mirror, saw her stroking Shep’s head as the boy leaned against her shoulder. On her other side, Maddie had fallen asleep holding the singer’s hand. The sight caught at his throat.
Cait shook her head. “Most people have been very good. A couple of guys stepped over the line, one in Texas and one in California. The police were able to handle them.”
“So you don’t have your own security?”
“My agent pushes for it every time we talk. But music isn’t something I do up here,” she put her hand up high, “while people listen down there behind a barrier. The songs are—to borrow an overused word—organic. They depend on the different needs and desires of everybody involved. If I separate myself from the audience, the music sort of…well, freezes. Solidifies.” Now she met his gaze through the mirror. “I guess that sounds pretty weird.”
“No.” He was surprised to realize he understood. “No, I see what you mean. Wood is like that. Not something dead I impose my will on, but something alive that I work with to reveal what’s inside.”
“Exactly.” Her smile glinted at him in the dark car. “Anna loves the chair you built for her and David. It’s beautiful. Their grandchildren will sit in it, and the generations after them.”
“Hope so.” Driving into Goodwill itself, along the straight streets with lighted houses on either side, Ben let the conversation—confessions?—lapse. He and Cait Gregory didn’t need to understand too much about each other. That would only lead to trouble.
In the driveway of the Remingtons’ house, he got out and opened the rear door. Shep woke up crying when the light hit him in the eyes. His cheeks were now flushed a bright red.
Maddie stirred. “Daddy? What’s happening?”
“Just dropping Miss Caitlyn off, that’s all.” Ben avoided Cait’s smiling gaze. “Can you slide out for a minute?”
Groggily, Maddie got out of the car. But when Cait started to move over, Shep’s sobs escalated to screams. Obviously he was able to make sounds. He just chose not to. Holding his arms out, he pleaded without words for Cait to stay.
She glanced over at Ben. “I hate to upset him when he’s sick.” Turning to Shep again, she brushed back his damp hair, wiped the tears off his cheeks. “Don’t you want to go home now? Get into your pajamas and listen to your dad read a story? I bet he reads really good stories.”
Shep nodded.
Cait leaned over and kissed the boy’s forehead. “Well, darlin’, to do that, you have to let me say goodbye.”
In her smoky voice, that one word—darlin’—was a punch to the gut. Ben took a deep breath.
So did Shep. And then the tears came back, along with the huge, gulping sobs.
“Maybe we should take Shep home and get him settled first.” Cait’s voice was concerned, not angry. “I can call David to come pick me up there.”
Ashamed in the face of her generosity, Ben nevertheless knew he didn’t want to take Cait Gregory to his house. Didn’t want a single memory of her inside the home he shared with his children.
But for his son’s sake, he would risk letting her in. He just hoped he could avoid the consequences.
“Sounds like a plan.” He helped Maddie get into the car and buckled her up again. In the driver’s seat once more, he backed down the Remingtons’ short drive. “We’ll be home in about five seconds flat.”
CAIT CARRIED Shep up the stone steps to the wide front porch and waited while his dad unlocked the door. She felt breathless from the unaccustomed weight of the child in her arms…and from the anticipation of going into Ben Tremaine’s house.
Which was ridiculous. They’d only known each other three days. She’d be leaving town within two months at the outside. What difference did his decorating scheme make?
Still, a feeling of belonging hit her full in the face as she stepped inside. Home. She hadn’t had one for ten years. Before that, she’d been a part of her father’s house, living in his style and according to his rules.
But Ben’s place was a real home. High ceilings, exposed wood beams, windows of different shapes, sizes, angles. Wood floors and cabinets finished with a light stain and a high gloss. Thick, dark-blue rugs under comfortable-looking red leather couches and chairs. A day’s worth of clutter made the room looked lived-in—children’s books stacked on the table and beside a chair, the rolled-up newspaper still waiting to be read, two stuffed dogs confronting each other on one arm of the sofa.
She glimpsed the details as she followed Ben up a freestanding staircase and along the hallway to Shep’s room. Here, the style was Boy—blue walls and gray carpet, X-Men paraphernalia everywhere, Lego, toy cars and Pokémon pieces scattered on the floor, a rumpled bed on which a single teddy bear, nearly as large as the boy himself, lay waiting.
His face flushed, Ben bent to straighten the blue blanket and sheets. “I didn’t get a chance to make beds before we left for church this morning.”
“But now it’s all nice and neat, just waiting for you,” she told Shep as she lowered him to the floor. “Want your dad to help you into pajamas?”
The little boy shook his head violently and grabbed her around the thighs. Cait looked at Ben in dismay. “I—”
“It’s okay.” He pulled a set of colorful pj’s from a drawer in the nearby chest. “I’ll get the medicine while you help him change.”
There was a question in his last words and in his eyes, as if he weren’t sure she could or would help Shep out of his clothes.
“Okay.” She gave him a confident, in-charge smile. “I baby-sat when I was a teenager—I think I remember the process.”
Ben nodded and disappeared. Cait sat down on the bed with Shep between her knees. “Let’s see what we can do here, okay? Ooh…Wolverine pajamas. Are these your favorites?”
He nodded solemnly, his eyes too dull, his cheeks too red. Humming softly, Cait eased him out of his X-Men jumpsuit costume and the long-sleeved T-shirt underneath, putting on the Wolverine pj top. She took off his shoes and socks, pushed his jeans down to his knees…and that was as far as she got. “Ben? Ben, can you come here?”
She sounded more panicked than she’d intended. He appeared immediately at the doorway. “What?”
Cait took a calming breath. “I thought you might want to get a look at Shep’s legs before I cover him up again.”
He knelt on the floor beside them, gazing at the huge red blotches on his son’s legs. “Yeah, he gets a rash like this when he has a cold or the flu. I’ll get some antihistamine. You go ahead and put him to bed.”
She did as she was told and Shep went peacefully enough, holding his bear close to his chest.
“That’s Bumbles,” Maddie said from the doorway. She’d changed into a sweet nightgown with red and blue flowers all over. “Shep let me name him.”
“I like that—Bumbles the Bear. Sounds like a song.” Cait pulled a waltz tune out of her memory and gave it words. “Bumbles the Bear hasn’t a care. He stumbles and fumbles and tumbles along….” Maddie giggled, and even Shep smiled, so they were all pretty cheerful when Ben returned.
“Well, this doesn’t look much like anybody’s sick.” He put bottles