The Forever Girl (Wildstone, #6)(15)

“We’re a little busy right now, don’t you think?”

“Only until the wedding.”

Dillon looked pained. “Maybe this is a topic for another time. Without an audience.”

Caitlin nodded, but looked deeply unsettled. She tried to recover, though, Walker could tell. She turned to Sammie, smiled, and opened her arms.

Sammie ran right at her, and Caitlin beamed—until Sammie passed her by and leaped at Walker, crashing into his legs, giving him a fiercely intense command in baby speak, using both her voice and gimme hands.

Caitlin sighed.

“She’ll come around,” Heather promised.

Walker gave in to the demands of the cutest little tyrant on the planet and scooped her into his arms.

Sammie sweetly patted his cheeks with her sticky hands.

Two-plus years ago he’d stopped in on Heather and found her pregnant, exhausted, and clearly at the end of her rope. He’d ended up staying a few days, filling her fridge and cabinets with food, taking care of things while she caught up on sleep. He’d continued to visit whenever he could, sometimes just being an extra adult in a very tiny and very overwhelmed apartment.

So yeah, Sammie felt comfortable around him and vice versa. She gave a sigh and laid her head on his shoulder, smelling like bananas and hopes and dreams. He rarely allowed himself the luxury of hopes and dreams—hadn’t for a long, long time. But he found himself pulling her tiny body to his, dropping his jaw to the top of her head, and closing his eyes just for a beat, wondering what it might be like to have kids of his own and be a positive force in their lives in a way he’d never had himself.

MAZE WATCHED SAMMIE completely melt against Walker and felt herself react to the look on his face, a soft expression she’d never seen on him before. “She knows you,” she said, doing her best to keep the jealously out of her voice.

He didn’t respond. Maybe because Sammie had gone back to playfully patting his face with her chubby hands, specifically his mouth. Maze would bet her last dollar that little Sammie was enjoying the feel of his scruffy jaw, or maybe the game he made out of pretending to bite her fingers so she’d squeal in delight.

Tired of waiting for the answer he was clearly not going to give her, Maze turned to Heather for an explanation.

“I couldn’t have made it these past few years without him,” Heather said. “He’d somehow just magically show up when I needed something. Money, a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk me off the ledge.”

Caitlin looked as devastated as Maze felt. “But . . . I called, I texted, I emailed . . . you’d gone dark and I couldn’t reach you at all. I finally got the gist—you didn’t want contact. But I swear, if I’d known, I’d have been there in a heartbeat, no matter what.”

Maze took Heather’s hand. “I didn’t call, text, or email, and that’s on me. But if I’d been able to get out of my own way enough to hear what was going on in your life, I’d have been there too.”

“It’s not on you, not on either of you.” Heather shook her head. “I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t tell either of you. I’d made a huge mess out of my life, and it all fell apart, completely. I was ashamed and needed to handle it on my own. But the truth is, I wasn’t handling it. I was sinking. And then Walker just showed up one day and did his usual strong, silent thing, taking care of whatever needed to be taken care of, whether I wanted help or not.”

Cat looked at Walker. “You should’ve told me.”

“No,” Heather said quickly. “I made him promise on Michael’s grave that he wouldn’t. I’m sorry, I really am, but I needed to grow up—without you guys at my back, fixing my mistakes.”

Maze hated that Heather had been so alone. Hated even more that it had happened because she had been selfishly down her own rabbit hole. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I failed you. I won’t let that happen again.”

“We won’t let that happen again,” Caitlin said firmly.

Heather nodded, eyes suspiciously bright. “Me either.”

Cat turned on Walker and punched him in the arm. “Ow!” she said, shaking out her hand. “Dammit. You’re a brick wall.”

“I taught you how to hit,” he told her. “You can’t tuck your thumb in like that. And set your feet and put your weight into it.”

Cat hit him again, the right way. “That’s for not telling me what Heather was going through.”

“Not my story to tell.”

Sammie was squirming to be free, so Walker set her down. Again Cat held out her arms to the little girl, but Sammie shook her head and yelled, “I’m this many!” She held up three fingers, dropping a small stuffed giraffe she’d just picked up.

Heather shook her head. “She’s not three, she just likes to say it. She’s two and a half, and yeah, the math adds up to me being pregnant at Michael’s gravesite. I planned on telling all of you there, but everything blew up so quickly, and before I knew it, so much time had gone by that I was too embarrassed.”

Maze picked up the giraffe off the floor. “So there was one last secret,” Maze murmured.

“Yes.” Heather winced. “I’m sorry.”

Maze shook her head. “No. You don’t owe me an apology. Ever. This was on all of us.”