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“Well, I keep forgetting that part, and I like saying my Lizzie.” Zeke flashed a smile at Lizzie and leaned his dark head against Liz’s side. “She teaches me lots of things. Like how to write letters. So maybe you should let her help you, too.” He beamed a smile up at Liz, then pointed to the far end of the table. “That’s my first letter, Dad! And it’s for you!”
Heath crossed to the table and picked up the sheet of paper. He read it, then turned back to her. To Zeke. “You helped him write this?”
“I helped him with spelling.” Lizzie bumped shoulders with the boy. “I was working on my things while he was working on his. Didn’t he do a marvelous job?”
“It’s beautiful.” Heath stared at the paper, then his son. He didn’t want to get emotional over something so simple, but he did because his kid had just written him a letter. “I don’t know what to say, Zeke. Thank you.”
“It says I Love You Dad,” Zeke declared from his spot on the stool. “And I do! I love you this much!” He spread his arms, but forgot to set the bag down. Sun-toned frosting dribbled onto the floor.
“Oops.” Lizzie grabbed a couple of paper towels while Heath picked up a washcloth. They both bent to clean up the mess, a swirl of neon gold soaking into their respective wipes.
And then their hands touched.
Paused.
“Liz.” Heath didn’t just say her name. He whispered it in a voice that begged a question, a question with no answers. He covered her hand with his, and whispered her name again.
She raised her eyes.
The look of him. His scent, the messed up hair, the ruggedness of a man unafraid to work the land long hours, day into night…
Did she lean closer?
Did he?
She didn’t know, but the temptation drew her in.
She pulled back quickly.
What was she thinking? Doing? She knew better.
“Our young helper made a little mess?” Corrie’s cheerful voice severed the moment. “Heath, you’ll need hot water and drops of dish soap to get the grease off the floor. We don’t want anyone slipping, and I’ve just been over to see Rosie and that new baby.” Corrie laid a hand to her chest as if to swoon, Southern woman to the max. “My heart, my heart, to hold one that small, and so perfect. I told them about the ceremony we’d like to do for Sean’s marker at the end of the month. Land sakes, she was excited. They’d like to wait for the men to come out of the hills, but that’s a long way off. When I mentioned Memorial Day, both she and Harve thought that was a good idea.”
“Good.” Lizzie didn’t look at Corrie. She didn’t look at Heath, either. She didn’t dare, because what would she see?
She didn’t know, and wasn’t sure she wanted to know.
He’d stood up when Corrie walked in. He crossed to the sink, rinsed out the cloth, then heated it with hotter water and a little soap. He cleaned up the spill thoroughly, then tossed the cloth into a laundry room hamper before he grabbed a sandwich from the tray in the fridge.
Nothing in his manner suggested they’d shared anything other than a wipe-the-spot moment.
“You’re okay with the pest for a while more?”
His teasing made Zeke grin.
“We’ve got some errands to run, so yes. We’re double-teaming the memorial project.”
“After his nap?” Heath asked.
“My Lizzie says I’m getting too big for naps.” Zeke drew his brow into a frown so much like Heath’s, it made Lizzie smile.
“Corrie’s advice,” said Lizzie. “And I never argue with Corrie.” She shared a smile with the older woman. “Not when it comes to raising wonderful kids. And I believe my exact words were that you won’t be needing a nap every day,” she corrected him. “Because you’ll be off to school soon and there are no naps in school.”
“That’s four months away. And little kids need their sleep.”
“’Zactly, Dad.” Zeke offered his father a sage look. “But big kids don’t hardly need them at all. And ’member how you said I’m a big kid now? When I turned five?”
Heath looked trapped by his own words, and Lizzie kind of liked that. “I think the grown-ups around you will take it day by day. Flexibility is good. And right now we need to finish this cake, my friend, and get out of Cookie’s way. He’s due back from the market any minute.”
“Okay!”
* * *
She’d made a pretty picture standing there, a smudge of white frosting on her right cheek. She’d tucked her hair up in some kind of clip, and the pale, freckled skin of her arm, curved around Zeke but not touching him, showed a protective instinct that surprised him but shouldn’t because he’d known her gentle heart for years.
