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Coral began to refold some napkins set on the counter. “She’s… Things are complicated with your wife.”

“I get that. They have been for a while now.” It was more than he’d admitted to just about anyone, and for the first time in a long time, he felt more than just tired. He felt defeated. Helpless.

Her eyes softened. “I see the love each of you has for the other. It’s hard not to. I feel that things will fall into place. It’s just sometimes, the falling takes a bit longer, and all those pieces need a bit more time to heal.”

“My mommy’s sick.”

They both turned to Mackie. The little boy was perched on the edge of his chair, a piece of cheese in one hand, a juicy strawberry in the other. He gave a half shrug. “I heard Daddy on the phone this morning.” He popped the strawberry into his mouth as if it were normal to make an announcement like that. Coral turned away, swiping the moisture that sprang to her eyes.

“They’re going to do their best to get your mom feeling better,” Shane said.

Again, Mackie shrugged. “She’s sick a lot.”

An idea took root. “Do you want me to help you draw a picture for your Mom?”

“I don’t draw real well.” He finished the strawberry and frowned. “I wish I did, ’cause Mama sure likes pretty pictures. She has a bunch of them in her bedroom.”

“You’re in luck, kiddo. I’m really good at drawing things. Do you want me to sketch you? And we can send it along for your mother so she has it close by?”

“You can do that?” he asked, slipping off his chair.

“Yep.” Shane walked over and ruffled the top of his head. “I can make you anything you want to be. A spaceman or a pirate or a cowboy.”

Mackie looked up at him. “Can you make me a doctor superhero? The kind that can touch someone and make them all better?”

The kid was pulling on every heartstring Shane owned.

“I can.” And he did. After lunch, he took Mackie out into the backyard and didn’t have to encourage him much to pose. Coral brought them cold drinks—a beer for Shane and soda for Mackie. He did several drawings, and once Mackie decided on the one he liked the most—standing on the bench by the back garden, arms spread as if flying—Shane told him he’d add color when he was at his studio.

That led to more questions, and by the time they headed back to the house, Mackie riding Shane’s back like a little monkey, the kid’s voice was hoarse from talking. They walked inside, laughing and carrying on a bit, and when the door shut behind them, Shane glanced up. Time did that wonky thing, because he sure did feel funny. Bobbi Jo stood just inside the kitchen, eyes dark and misty and settled on him with a look that made his heart damn near tumble to the floor. His laugher slowly died as he straightened and helped Mackie off his back.

“Hey,” he said huskily.

Bobbi Jo didn’t answer him. She walked forward, eyes never leaving his, and didn’t stop until she was a whisper away from him. Her scent filled his nostrils; her warmth invaded his space. She slid her hands up to either side of his face and stood on her tiptoes, but even then, she wasn’t tall enough. Shane’s hands found their way back home and lifted her up, her body against his as she swept her mouth softly over his.

“Hey,” she whispered, resting her forehead on his.

“That’s yucky,” Mackie said with a giggle. “Do you have to do that mushy stuff?”

Shane let Bobbi down slowly, enjoying the feel of her way too much. Her skin was pink, her breathing elevated, and she bit her lip in that way that told him she was worked up just as much as he was.

He glanced down at Mackie and then settled his gaze back on Bobbi. “No, bud. We can wait a bit to get mushy.”

“Good,” the kid said with a grin. “Because I’m hungry.”

Chapter Seventeen

“He’s a good man,” Coral whispered as she walked by Bobbi, leaving her alone on the front porch with Shane.

They’d had dinner with Miss Callie and Marybeth, who’d come home about ten minutes after Bobbi had arrived back at the B and B. The older woman was subdued, and when asked about Gabby, all she told them was that her granddaughter was holding her own and to keep her in their prayers. Marshall was spending the night at the hospital and Marybeth showed up shortly after and took Mackie home. Now that dinner was over and both Coral and Miss Callie had retired, the silence hung heavy with things unsaid.

Bobbi felt it, and she was sure Shane did too.

He was a few feet from her, his long limbs loose as he rested his elbows on top of the railing and stared into the distance. Evening had fallen, and in the distance, an owl hooted. Bobbi shivered, her body hot and cold at the same time. When she’d walked into the kitchen and saw Shane with Mackie, her heart turned over one hundred times.

That is my future, she’d thought. That right there is everything I want.

And yet she knew they needed to have a conversation. The big one. The one that laid everything out and exposed all those seams that had come undone over the last year or so. It scared her—the thought of bringing it all up—and at the moment, there were other things on her mind. Heat touched her face, and she ran a cool hand over the hot skin at her neck.

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