Doing It Over (Most Likely To #1)(41)

“I never thought it would.”

Melanie really hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but from the way Zane reacted to Jo, she couldn’t help but wonder how many times Jo had let him slide away when she shouldn’t have.

Wyatt interrupted her thoughts with a tap on the shoulder. “How about a walk?”

Hope still sat in Melanie’s lap, her tiny arms still wrapped around her waist. “I should probably help with the dishes.”

Miss Gina picked up a few plates. “You go. There will be plenty to do after all that pie.”

“C’mon, Mommy.” Hope slid from her knees and tugged on her hand.

Wyatt nodded toward the back of the house.

It wasn’t until they’d walked far enough away from the inn, and out of earshot of those still sitting on the porch, when Melanie released a deep breath.

“That was intense.” Wyatt kept pace beside her while Hope ran ahead.

“Is he always like that?”

Wyatt shrugged. “I don’t really know the guy. Luke might be a better one to ask.”

“He was just Zoe’s kid brother . . . annoying, but not crazed like he was today.”

“He reminds me of a kid searching for himself.”

They followed Hope on a path that led through a patch of trees. “I really hope he isn’t violent with Sheryl. I don’t think she’d do much about it if he was.”

“Have you ever met Zoe’s dad?”

“No. I know Sheryl used to drag them all to visit him in prison a couple times a year. When Zoe started high school, she always gave an excuse as to why she couldn’t join them.”

They were silent for a while before Wyatt said, “It must have been hard for them to grow up without a father.”

Melanie couldn’t help but look at Hope with Wyatt. “According to Zoe, he used to hit Sheryl all the time. I’m guessing it’s better the man was locked up than teaching his children that behavior.”

“True. I just can’t imagine not having a dad. Mine has always been there.”

“Hope doesn’t seem to miss it at all.”

“She’s a girl,” he said as if estrogen explained everything. “It would probably be harder for her without a mom.”

Now it was time for Melanie to think about Jo. She’d grown up without her mom, bucking her father . . . “Yeah, I guess.”

“Mommy! Uncle Wyatt . . . c’mere.”

“Uncle?” Wyatt asked with a grin.

“She’s been calling Zoe ‘Aunt Zoe’ and Jo ‘Auntie Jo.’ I told her it was okay.” Melanie took his smile as acceptance and didn’t correct her daughter when she met up with her a few yards later.

Hope had climbed five feet up into a pine tree. “Look what I found.”

Wyatt stood at the base of the tree and looked up. “What is it with you and climbing a tree?”

“Mommy told me she used to climb them all the time when she was my age.” Hope took another branch up with a firm grip.

Melanie felt herself cringe but didn’t say a thing.

“You climbed trees?”

She narrowed her gaze to Wyatt. “Don’t sound so surprised.”

He shook his head. “I can’t see it.”

She placed a hand to his chest and pushed him aside before reaching for the first branch.

Within three feet, Melanie knew the sap wouldn’t come off her hands for a week. But as she closed the gap between her and Hope a familiar sense of awesome washed over her.

Hope sat perched on a sturdy branch with a silly grin. “This is so cool.”

“Be sure and hold on tight,” Melanie instructed. “And don’t get freaked out by bugs or flying insects.”

Hope wiggled her nose and did a little search of her personal space as if she were being swarmed.

“Even bees?”

“A bee sting is better than a broken arm.”

Hope shrugged and reached for a higher branch. The two of them climbed in tandem for a few more feet.

“Hey, ladies . . . how high are you planning on climbing?”

Melanie glanced down to find Wyatt standing with his hands on his hips, his neck stretched to keep an eye on them.

“You’ll learn not to challenge the Bartlett girls.”

Hope giggled. “Yeah, Uncle Wyatt . . . are you coming?”

Apparently, all he needed was an invitation.

He looked a little like Spider-Man without the red costume and mask. He was less careful of where he placed his hands and didn’t pay attention to the branches brushing against his face. Wyatt hung on to a sturdy branch at the base of the tree, near their feet.

“Why are we climbing a tree again?” he asked.

“Because it’s fun!” Melanie said.

Hope pointed to a tree across from them. “Look at that.”

A nest the size of a grown man’s fist held a single bird that intently watched them.

Melanie was about to tell Hope to hold on when her daughter used her free hand to brush off a few ants that were walking along her arm. “This is awesome.” Hope went ahead and pushed farther up.

Melanie followed, Wyatt trailing behind until the branches started to thin. “That’s far enough,” she told her daughter.

They were in the thick of the trees, a good thirty feet off the forest floor. The smell of pine would probably stay in her hair for as long as the sap stuck to her palms . . . but Melanie didn’t care. “You can’t do this in Bakersfield.”