A Family of Their Own(38)

“It will, and I can’t thank you enough.”

He walked to her side, longing to hold her in his arms. The almost-kiss still hung in his memory, waiting to happen. He’d monitored his emotions so long now he feared taking the step. He gazed at her lips, her soft cheeks and her long, silken hair. His pulse escalated. He looked around the empty room but stopped himself. This wasn’t the right time. Another opportunity would come, and hopefully her sitter wouldn’t turn on the porch light next time.





Chapter Nine


Kelsey steered Lucy through the doorway while Ross waited on the porch. He’d worn a suede jacket and beneath it, a pullover in beige and camel, the same color as the suede. He looked so good to her—a stalwart, caring friend—who put her needs first, first after Peyton. Nearing his minivan, she saw it was empty.

“Where’s Peyton?”

He glanced at Lucy and closed the distance between them. “The more I thought about it, the more I didn’t like the idea. Peyton would be bored with the waiting, and Mrs. Withers was available. It made more sense.” He slipped his hand into hers and gave it a squeeze. “And we can use the alone time.”

Grateful, she pressed his hand to affirm his decision. Her emotions had been tied in knots since she’d made plans for the trip, and she’d been concerned about Peyton’s presence, but telling Ross she wasn’t welcome didn’t seem right. He’d made a good choice.

Though Lucy sat in the back seat, a novel in her hand, Kelsey could see she was apprehensive, not only facing her father after so long, but knowing he was very ill. Kelsey grimaced at her decision to hold back the truth from her daughter. She didn’t have it in her heart to tell Lucy that her father was dying. It seemed like too much at one time.

Now she wondered how Doug would react to seeing Lucy. She’d grown up a little—she was more a young lady than a child. Ten was that in-between age when young girls floundered with one foot in childhood and another stretching for adulthood. They wanted to be treated as adults, having their own freedom and independence, while clinging to the security and easy life of their youth. And then came attitude. Sometimes Lucy rolled her eyes as if mothers were the most stupid people in the world. At times, Kelsey believed it.

“You’re thoughtful.”

Her stomach lurched. “Thinking.” She felt empty. “So many memories and concerns.”

“I can’t even imagine.” He snapped on the radio and turned down the volume. “You don’t have to talk now. I know you have a lot to think about.” He glanced into the rearview mirror. “Lucy’s sleeping, I think.”

She turned around and saw her daughter’s eyes closed, the book resting on the seat beside her. “I don’t think she slept well.” She stretched her neck to relieve the tension. “Neither did I.”

He slipped his hand to hers. “Take a nap, too. You need a clear mind for this.”

The warmth traveled to her heart. “I do.” She closed her eyes and relaxed to the lilt of the music and the rhythm of the highway.

“Kelsey, I think we’re close.”

She opened her eyes, startled that she’d fallen asleep. Ross’s hand rested on her arm. She scooted up in the seat and tried to wrap her mind around where she was and why. The answer hit her, and her stomach knotted. Eyeing the surroundings, she got her bearings. “I’ve only been here a couple of times. At first, Doug came to Clawson.” A building came into sight that she recognized. “Turn right up here.”

Ross followed her directions and as they rolled down Doug’s street, she leaned over her seat and tapped Lucy. “Wake up, sleepyhead.”

Lucy’s eyes flew open, and she looked around, her dazed eyes widening. “Are we there already?”

“Almost.”

She straightened in the seat and ran her hand over her hair. “Mom, do you have a comb?”

Kelsey grinned and dug into her purse. “Here you go.” She handed her the comb and Lucy ran it through her curls. She handed it back, mumbling a thanks.

“We should have brought him something.” Kelsey looked at Ross for validation. “Lucy, you should take a gift for your dad since he’s ill. Flowers or candy. Maybe a magazine. Anything.”

Hindered by the seat belt, Lucy scooted as close as she could get. “Mom, aren’t flowers for girls?”

Kelsey eyed Ross. “What do you say?”