Heartfire (6 page)

Tessa took the white blob from the fork, holding it between her thumb and forefinger.  "Open up."

"I never could resist a dare," he mumbled, opening his mouth.

She popped the treat in.  His lips felt her fingers' softness and he almost forgot about the marshmallow.  Almost.

Reminding himself this was just a game, he licked his lips and held out his hands.  "See?  No mess.  I'll have to give the two of you lessons."

Tessa's cheeks looked flushed.  But that could be the result of the cool night air or the fire.  She sat back, picked up the bag of marshmallows and offered them to him.  "Your mouth is bigger than ours.  Want another one?"

He laughed and swiped at his sticky cheek with his napkin.  "I think we've all had enough sugar for one night.  Let's get ready for bed, slugger.  We have a lot planned for tomorrow."

"You're going to fish, too, aren't you, Tessa?" Ryan asked.

"Sure am.  Unless you dump the boat."

The idea of Tessa wet, her clothes molded to her, quickened Max's heart rate.  Why was this happening now?  After all these years?  He wasn't even sure what "this" was.  He'd just have to be careful to keep that boat very steady.

After Ryan went into the tent to get ready for bed, Tessa picked up a long stick so she could stir the ashes while Max doused the smoldering embers.  His flashlight sat on the picnic table with the beam directed toward them so they could see.  He poured water from a five gallon tank he'd filled after they'd arrived and gave her a nod.

 Tessa stirred the ashes and wondered what she'd been thinking of earlier when she spotted Max's cheek with marshmallow.  It had been a spontaneous act, as automatic as typing on her laptop.  He just looked so serious sometimes.  Did he still miss Leslie with the same aching grief?  Hers had subsided somewhat.  Time had helped.  Now she remembered the good times much more often than the sadness of Leslie's cancer and her year of treatment.

Max doused the ashes again.  "That should do it.  Do you have a flashlight to take into your tent?" he asked, setting the water carrier on the picnic bench and capping the nozzle.

She picked up the one on the ground beside her and straightened.  "Right here.  As quickly as we left, I thought we'd be sure to forget something."

"You did a good job of packing."

She laughed.  "I'm used to it.  Remember?"

Although Max's flashlight wasn't a flooding beam, she could still see his frown.  "I remember."

Eager to find another subject, she said, "Ryan mentioned some type of festival in town next weekend.  I've missed it other years.  What goes on?"

"It's called Oktoberfest.  They have craft booths in the park on Saturday.  The softball game on Sunday is usually the highlight.  It's a community tradition."

There was that word again—"tradition"—the one she didn't know much about.  "The teams are already formed?"

"Nah.  Whoever shows up, plays.  You want to play?"  He looked intrigued.

"I was on a team in high school."  It was the only time she'd felt equal to the other girls.  They'd worn uniforms paid for by the district and none of her team members could run faster or throw harder.

"We mix men and women, and it's usually a lot of fun."  He stepped closer, bringing with him the aroma of wood smoke and pine.  "Tessa, I know staying in Jenkins might be hard for you.  Anytime you want to leave..."

"Tired of me already?" she joked, though she didn't feel like joking.

His lazy smiled surrounded her.  "No.  But I don't want you to feel tied here, either.  Whatever this is with Ryan, I'll figure it out."

Tessa frowned.  "You don't need help or you don't want my help?"

"Now don't get defensive.  I'll take your help.  But I want it to be given freely."

She breathed a sigh of relief.  "I told you I'll stay a few weeks.  I might have to make an overnight trip or two to New York.  But unless something unexpected pops up, that's it."

He nodded then glanced around the campsite.  "I think everything's secure.  The van's locked."  Turning back to her, he asked, "Do you want me to wake you in the morning?"

"I'll wake up with the sun if Ryan doesn't get to me first."

Max chuckled, a deep, masculine sound that made her feel warm, even in the cool air.  She saw his hands come toward her and she thought he was going to touch her face.  But, instead, he only fastened a button on her jacket that had slipped out.  "Keep warm.  If you need more blankets, give a yell."

"I'll be okay.  I have my long underwear."  She thought she saw sparks light his eyes, but it must have been the flashlight flickering.  "Good night, Max."

He took his hands from her jacket.  "Good night, Tessa."

Switching on her flashlight, she ducked into her tent and quickly zippered the flap before she wanted him to touch more than her jacket.

Chapter Four

Ryan's pole bounced in all directions as he cranked the reel, his small muscles working hard, his excitement beaming all over his face.  Max fought the urge to move to the other side of the small rowboat to help him.  Tessa was already sitting there beside his son, grinning, making no effort to take the rod.

"Look how big he is!  It's almost as big as the one Dad caught."  Ryan slowly reeled in the bass, the rod bobbing.  Turning to Tessa, his expression showing pride in his accomplishment, he asked, "Can you help me get him off the hook?"

Tessa didn't flinch like many women would have when she took the flopping fish in her hands.  As she did, she said something in a low voice to Ryan that Max couldn't hear.

Ryan nodded.  "Yeah, you're probably right.  Dad, we're going to throw him back in."

"What about supper?" Max asked, unable to suppress a grin.

Tessa gave the bass back to Ryan and swiped her hands on her jeans.  "We have two, already.  They should be enough.  We brought the instant potatoes, didn't we?  And those other packaged rations."

He was surprised to find Tessa had a practical side, too, especially since her impractical streak had convinced Max to buy a birthday cake for tonight instead of waiting to have it when they got home tomorrow.  "Along with the carrot sticks."

"Are we going to hike this afternoon?" she asked, as she pushed the tackle box aside with her foot.

"There's a marked trail not too far from our campsite."  He'd watched Tessa become almost as fidgety as Ryan the longer they'd sat in the boat.  Inactivity obviously drove her crazy.

"There's an unmarked trail toward the entrance of the park," she suggested.

Max cast a considering eye at Ryan.

Catching his look of concern, she assured him, "We can go as far as we want and turn back whenever we'd like.  It'll be less trampled, and we'll have a better chance to see some wildlife."  She smiled at Ryan.  "That would be a special birthday present, don't you think?"

From Ryan's expression, he wholeheartedly agreed.  Max had to admit Tessa was right—the unmarked trail could be a lot more fun.  When had his life become so static...so safe?  Did Tessa always take the unmarked trail?

Slowly Max rowed the boat back to the dock, more often than not glancing at Tessa, her smile, the oval of her face framed by sunshine and curls.  His gut tightened.  All at once a hungry gnawing he almost didn't recognize made him row more vigorously until he did recognize it, and then he rowed even harder.   Desire for Tessa was the last thing he wanted to feel.

At the dock, Max threw the line over the post and pulled until they drifted alongside.  With hands that were unsteady from the exertion and a rising need he couldn't understand, he held the boat still.

Tessa hopped out and helped Ryan onto the dock.  They started back to their campsite, pine needles and leaves cushioning their steps as Ryan chattered about the morning.

Max took a wary look at Tessa and wondered why this attraction had resurfaced now.

Back at the campsite, she went to the truck for—

She emerged with her laptop.

He kept his voice even when he asked,  "You're going to work now?"

After a moment of hesitation she explained,  "I'm expecting information about the Oslo Summit."

"This can't wait until we get back?"

"I'm doing a preliminary article due in Tuesday.  Waiting isn't a word that applies in my business."

No, waiting didn't apply.  Neither did roots or commitment.  She hadn't changed.  Nothing had changed.  Tessa's career still came first.  Why should he care?

He shouldn't and he didn't.

***

Ryan's cry broke Max's deep sleep.  Awake, but groggy, he automatically reached toward Ryan in the darkness of the tent and heard Tessa as she pushed at the front flap.  "Max, is Ryan okay?"

"Dad, it's too dark.  I can't find you," Ryan cried.

Max put his arm around his son and awkwardly twisted around to unzip the flap to let Tessa in.

She rushed though the entrance and knelt beside the trembling now eight-year-old.  "What's wrong, pancake?"

Ryan reached out to her.  "I couldn't see Dad.  It was so dark."  He clutched her shoulders and without hesitating she gathered him into her arms.

Fumbling for the flashlight, Max switched it on.  "Is that better?"

Ryan nodded, his face nuzzled into Tessa's shoulder.

"Do you want to hold it?" Tessa asked softly as she rocked him against her.

He nodded again as he took it from Max.

The sight of Ryan cuddled in Tessa's arms touched something deep inside Max.  His son did miss a woman's nurturing.  Ryan had instinctively reached toward Tessa for comfort and curled up in her arms.  Max couldn't put the pictures out of his head of Tessa mixing the mashed potatoes while he fried the fish, snitching a carrot stick from Ryan's plate, clapping her hands enthusiastically as Ryan blew out all the candles on his cake.  She'd bought him a Super Shooter, the latest trend in giant squirt guns and a book about dinosaurs—a subject he seemed to be interested in for the moment.

And now she seemed to know how to comfort him in the dark.  It made Max feel lacking in some way.  Yet realistically he knew he couldn't be everything to his son.

It wasn't long before Ryan's eyelids fluttered shut and the large flashlight fell out of his hand.  Tessa laid it beside her but didn't switch it off.

"I wouldn't have thought of giving him the flashlight to hold," he murmured.

Her voice was sad.  "I know what's it's like to be afraid of the dark.  A little control goes a long way."

"When were you ever afraid?" Max asked, not knowing if Tessa would answer.  Fears were as private as prayers.

She laid her cheek against Ryan's head.  "When I went to my first foster home.  Before that I'd slept in a room with five other girls.  It was never dark there, never completely quiet.  With the foster family, I slept in a room in the...basement.  It was as black as ink when they turned off the lights."