Anything for You (Blue Heron #5)(82)

Keith had been solid and steady, coming to drum circle every week, not asking for more, accepting every invitation to dinner. He never had other plans. If she had to cancel, he didn’t protest. He practically let her sniff him down like a bloodhound. He never balked at her rules and regulations and left the minute she hinted that he should.

On these visits, Keith spent more time with Davey than with her; Davey had no baggage, so she understood. But sometimes, her father would look at her and she’d see the sadness and regret there, and she’d have to turn away.

Too many times, her father had gotten her hopes up, and she’d believed. That he’d stop drinking. Keep his job. Save money. Stay.

He’d never managed any of those things.

Until now. These past two months were the longest she’d known him to be sober. He did seem different. She wanted to believe. But believing had been bred out of her long ago.

Still, when Connor suggested the 4-H fair, and Davey asked if their father could come, she said yes.

A family outing...that was new.

“Guess what movie I saw last night, Dave?” Connor asked. “Iron Man.”

“I love Iron Man!” Davey said. “‘Iron Man. That’s kind of catchy. It’s got a nice ring to it. I mean, it’s not technically accurate. The suit’s a gold...’ Jess, what’s the rest?”

“‘A gold titanium alloy, but it’s kind of provocative, the imagery, anyway.’” Jess finished the quote for him, and Connor glanced over, a smile in his blue eyes. For a second, Jess thought about holding his hand, but didn’t. It might be too much for Davey.

And her.

“A carriage! Look, Dad! A horse!” Though Mennonite horse and carriages were nothing new for the area, Davey always went a little nuts when he saw one, and there were plenty out today. The sky was heart-wrenching blue, fat white clouds sliding by like thoughts, and a breeze ruffled her brother’s downy hair.

There were the expected pens of calves and alpacas, as well as sheep, goats, chickens and even a herding demonstration from one of the Mennonite farmers, whose border collies were legendary. “We should’ve brought Chico!” Davey said, running off to see the dogs.

“Wait, Davey,” Jess called.

“I’ll go with him,” Keith said. “You kids wander around. It’s not big enough to get lost.” He met her eyes, and she knew what he meant—if I’m screwing up, you’ll be able to see it.

“Okay,” she said. “Um...thanks.”

“Alone with my woman and all this livestock,” Connor said. “Think of the possibilities. Which first? Beef cattle or dairy?”

“How about some food?” she suggested, and they followed the enticing scent of meat being cooked over an open fire.

“Seems kind of insensitive,” Connor murmured as he paid for their meals. “The barns, the barbecue pit. The cows must be doing head counts every fifteen minutes.”

Jess laughed. And this time, when they started walking again, she took his hand. It made her heart beat a little erratically, but she didn’t let go, either.

Vendors had set up booths, selling everything from sweaters made from different types of wool, to wooden bowls and spoons, to silver jewelry made from old cutlery. Jess stopped in front of a table that sold pictures from long ago. Solemn-faced people with stiff postures, unsmiling. “Who’d give up pictures of their family?” Jess wondered aloud. People who died alone, that was who. People with no kids to want the photos, no cousins, no grandchildren.

People who ended up like she might. If she outlived Davey...

That was a thought she never could follow to the end.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Connor said, and the endearment tugged at her insides. “Let me win you something and prove my manhood.”

“I can’t wait,” she said.

“I’d prefer to prove it later, if Ned would be so kind as to watch Davey tonight,” he murmured, pulling her in for a kiss.

This was what normal people did. They kissed at fairs and held hands. He pulled back and kissed her forehead and grinned down at her.

It was hard to look at him. There was so much in her heart, it was almost impossible to let him see all that happiness. Almost.

He tilted his head in question. Then she stood on tiptoe and kissed him. And kissed him some more, and more after that, until the only thought in her head was Connor O’Rourke of the perfect mouth and the curly eyelashes, generous heart and strong arms.

“So where’s my prize?” she asked finally.

“Right,” he said, his eyes smoky. “Coming up, my queen.”

It was one of those little crane games that were nearly impossible to win. “Davey got stuck in one of these once,” Jess mused as Connor frowned in concentration. She leaned against the glass box. “He climbed right in, and it took an hour and a half to get him out, but boy, did he have fun. They gave him eight stuffed animals.”

“Hush, woman, you’re breaking my concentration,” he said. “What’s your preference?”

She studied the prizes in the case. “The bunny with the bow in her hair.”

“You got it.” Connor maneuvered the crane toward the stuffed animal. The crane claw opened and dropped, and it did grab something, though not the bunny. It was a plastic bubble holding something green.