Gaining Miles (Miles Family #5)(2)

“Are you Cooper?” I asked.

He nodded. “Mama?”

“Yeah, let’s go see Mama.”

I hurried in the direction of her voice. She called out again, the fear in her tone spurring me to move faster.

“Ma’am,” I called out. “Ma’am, I think I have your son.”

She burst out from a trail, sweat gleaming on her forehead, her eyes wide with worry. “Oh my god, Cooper.”

He reached for her, practically diving out of my arms. She caught him, like the expert toddler-wrangler she obviously was.

“Cooper, you can’t run away like that. You have to stay with Mommy.” She held him close, pressing one hand to his back.

“I dirty,” he said, looking proud as ever of his dirty hands.

“I see that. Where are your clothes?”

“I don’t know. I like naked.”

She let out a heavy sigh, her eyes darting up, like she was asking the Lord for strength. “I know you like being naked. But baby boy, you need to leave your clothes on. More importantly, you need to stay with Mommy. I was scared to death.”

“He got me,” Cooper said, pointing straight at me.

His mother looked at me, her features softening. She was beautiful, with long dark hair and clear blue eyes. My heart squeezed at the sight of her, my chest aching with a feeling I hadn’t experienced in a long time. I hadn’t been sure there was still a heart in there. It reminded me of its existence now, thumping so hard it made the blood roar in my ears.

“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much. I’m so sorry, Cooper’s a handful. I only turned my back for a second.”

“It’s no trouble. I saw him out there and figured a naked two-year-old probably belonged to someone nearby.”

She nodded, adjusting Cooper on her hip. “I’m Shannon. Shannon Miles. Obviously you’ve met my son, Cooper.”

I dipped my chin. Would have tipped my hat, had I been wearing one. “Benjamin Gaines.” I went by Ben. Wasn’t sure why I’d given her my full name like that.

“It’s nice to meet you, Benjamin. Would you like to come over to the house? I made cookies.”

“Cookies?” Cooper asked, his face lighting up with so much joy, it was hard not to agree—cookies sounded like the best thing in the world when he said it like that.

But making friends with these people wasn’t a good idea. I wouldn’t be here long. A season, maybe two, then I’d move on. I always had to move on. It was the only way.

“No, that’s—”

“Cookies,” Cooper said, looking me straight in the eyes. His little voice was suddenly so serious, a baffling depth of meaning hidden in that one little word. It was as if he’d said, You need to come have cookies with me, Ben, your life depends on it.

I stared at the little boy in his mother’s arms. His bright blue eyes watched me as if my answer to this request meant the world to him. For reasons I couldn’t possibly fathom, I didn’t want to let him down.

“Sure,” I said, pulling my gaze away from his hypnotic eyes. “I’d love a cookie.”

“Cookie,” Cooper said, his tone assured, as if that settled the matter.

I followed them down the low hill, the back of their house coming into view. It was a beautiful home—from the outside, anyway—with a big wrap-around porch and a garden in the back. Shannon’s two other boys were there, playing near the raised beds. Or the younger one was playing, at least. Her oldest son watched his mother with crossed arms, his brow furrowed. He looked so serious for a child who could only be around six.

“Where was Cooper?” he asked.

“In the vineyard,” Shannon said. “This is Benjamin. He found him.”

The boy marched toward me and stuck out his arm. It took me a second to realize what he wanted. I clasped his hand and shook.

“I’m Roland Miles,” he said. “That’s my brother Leo.”

“You have very proper manners, Roland Miles,” I said. “I’m Ben.”

The other little boy, Leo, had lighter hair—almost blond—but the same blue eyes. He sat in the dirt surrounded by little toy cars. He drove two into each other, making crashing noises and spitting. His eyes darted up to mine and he smiled, but didn’t seem interested in a handshake greeting like his brother.

Shannon put Cooper down, grabbed a pair of shorts that were sitting nearby, and pulled them on him. “You stay put, you hear me? Or no cookie.”

“Okay, Mommy.”

She glanced at Roland. “I’m going inside to get cookies and lemonade. Can you watch your brother for two minutes?”

“Yes,” Roland said. Shannon jogged around the side of the house, and Roland rolled his eyes. “Cooper won’t keep his clothes on. And he runs away every time.”

“Sounds like your baby brother is a handful.”

Roland sighed. “You have no idea.”

The little one didn’t seem like he was a flight risk now. Maybe the promise of a cookie was enough to keep him still.

I sat down on the edge of a raised garden bed. I probably shouldn’t have stayed. It felt odd to sit out here with these kids. Hurt in places I didn’t want to feel. I’d have to take a cookie to be polite, then be on my way. Keep my distance from now on.