The Memory Keeper: A Heartwarming, Feel-Good Romance(51)

Noah’s encouragement seemed to affect Liam, and he broke out into an enormous, doting smile at his son, pushing him again and watching him fly. Hannah felt a buzz of pleasure, seeing the exchange. It was the first time she’d ever witnessed real closeness between them, and she couldn’t get enough of it.

“Hello-o!” a voice called from the cottage. Emmitt was in his denim overalls, waving a weathered hand at them from his back porch.

“Hi, Emmitt!” Hannah called over to him.

“Are y’all blocks of ice yet?” he asked. “It’s still chilly in the shade, ain’t it?”

“It’s a tad chilly, but we’re having a blast,” Hannah replied.

“Glad to hear it! I’ve got cocoa ready if y’all want to warm up.”

“Oh!” Noah said, dragging his feet on the ground to slow himself down. “Can we have the peppermint balls?” he asked Hannah.

“We can go see! Want to take a break and get some cocoa?”

Liam leaned over and held the tire swing steady so Noah could get off. Noah reached out for Liam’s hand. Hannah could tell by the surprise in Liam’s face that Noah reaching for him wasn’t something he was used to. Liam regarded his son curiously as the two of them walked hand in hand up the hill.

“Daddy, you didn’t get to swing,” Noah said, looking up at his father.

“That’s okay,” Liam told him.

“Maybe after we have our cocoa,” Noah offered, breaking free from Liam’s hand, and running up the steps to meet Emmitt.

“Good Lawd in heaven,” Emmitt said when Hannah and Liam ascended the steps. “You’re all grown up. How in the world did that happen?” he teased Hannah. “Last time I saw you, you were a lanky teenager headed out into the wild blue yonder.”

Hannah smiled and gave him a hug. “It’s been too long,” she said.

“Who’s this you brought with ya?” Emmitt asked.

Hannah introduced Liam and Noah.

Emmitt bent down to be at eye level with Noah, stroking his gray beard. “I hear somebody wants some hot cocoa. But ya gotta pass the test. You know what that test is?”

Noah shook his head, his eyes wide.

“You gotta take off your gloves there ’n’ show me your hands.”

Noah did as he was told, holding up his little hands, his fingers spread wide.

“Yep. Definitely hot cocoa time. Your hands look colder than a frosted frog.”

“A frosted frog?” Noah asked, scrunching his nose with a giggle.

“Yep. Never seen one myself—it could be that the ones around here are so smart, they don’t get frosted. What do you think?” Emmitt led Noah across the uneven hardwood floor into the kitchen, and sat him down at an old Formica table. He pointed to a bowl in the center that was full of his famous peppermint ball candies. “Would you like one of those?” he asked, pointing to them.

“May I?” Noah asked.

“Of course.” Emmitt pushed the bowl toward Noah.

The little boy got up on his knees and popped one in his mouth.

“Have as many as you want,” he said.

Just then, the kettle on the stove whistled. Emmitt pulled four mugs from the old wooden cabinets and filled them with the hot water, spooning in a chocolate powder mixture from a mason jar.

“It’s so nice to have you all visit,” Emmitt said. “It’s been a while since I’ve had youngsters come over.” He dropped a couple of marshmallows on the top of each mug and handed them out, before taking a seat. “How’s your daddy doin’?” he asked Hannah, before blowing on the steam rising from his mug.

“He’s doing well,” she said. “Just taking it easy, you know?”

Emmitt gave her a knowing grin.

Hannah shrugged off her winter coat and took a sip of her hot cocoa, the warm, sweet liquid soaking down to her bones.

“And how about you, sir?” Emmitt said to Noah, who’d handed Hannah his coat and hat. “How was the ol’ tire swing?”

“It was fun!” Noah said, pushing his marshmallows around with his straw. “My favorite was when Daddy pushed me.”

“Daddies are good at that kind of stuff. They always get to do the fun things.”

“Like what?” Noah asked.

Emmitt scratched his wiry beard. “Well, when my boy was young, I took him fishin’ or we built things together. Sometimes we played sports, even though he got way better than I ever was at hittin’ a baseball.”

Noah looked over at Liam, clearly attempting to process this information. “Daddy, can we play baseball sometime?”

Liam seemed surprised by his son’s question and interested at the same time. “Of course we can,” he said, but his answer seemed slightly hesitant. What was holding him back?

“Could Hannah come too?” Noah asked, that uncertain look he got whenever he spoke to Liam coming through.

“If she wants to,” Liam replied.

Hannah leaned on her elbow, her eyes on the adorable boy. “I’d love to play baseball with you two,” she said.

Emmitt sat back and folded his arms, content. “You know,” he said, “in all the years I’ve been around, I couldn’t train somebody anymore at my old job if my life depended on it—I’ve forgotten it all—but I can list all the great hits my son did during his little league baseball games, all the way through to his senior year on the high school team. I remember each one of ’em like they were yesterday.”