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JEREMIAH DIDN’T KNOW why he thought leaving Wyoming would mean the end to his insomnia, but he’d had high hopes that the nights of staring at the ceiling with eyes burning from fatigue were over. However, by 4:00 a.m. he knew his hope had been misplaced and that simply lying in bed for another two hours was an exercise in pathetic futility. He quickly showered and dressed, grabbed a coffee and headed to the office, almost grateful to be doing something productive rather than pretending to sleep. By the time 8:00 a.m. rolled around he’d already made a serious dent in the stack of paperwork he had scheduled to study as part of his first week of acclimation and he was in good shape for the rest of the week.
If only he didn’t look and feel like crap.
He wasn’t surprised when Miranda walked in first, bright and early. From what he could tell, Miranda was also an early riser. She must’ve been accustomed to walking into an empty office, because when she saw he was already there she briefly startled. There was a moment’s hesitation, as if she was contemplating ignoring his presence and walking straight to her office, but he was glad when she walked in with a guarded yet polite expression. “I’m not used to anyone being here before me. Virgil liked to roll in around nine, and Todd and Mary wander in around the same time. So, is this what I can expect of my new boss? How am I supposed to get away with anything if you’re just as dedicated as I am?”
He chuckled. “I’ve never been one to sleep in. Besides, I have plenty of work to keep me busy, and since I’m still living at my hotel, I really don’t have anything to do but stare at the walls when I’m not at the office.” Add in the fact he didn’t know a soul aside from his coworkers, spending extra time at the office was actually preferable to wandering around like a lost tourist. “That’s my excuse. What’s yours? Consummate workaholic?”
“A lack of dedication has never been my problem,” she said, smiling. “But since my son has to be at school at 7:30 a.m., it makes sense to come straight to the office after I drop him off.”
Jeremiah’s easy smile froze. “You’re a mother?” he asked, trying to sound casual when in fact, he was stunned. It shouldn’t matter but it did. “I didn’t realize.”
Her cheeks colored. “Whenever I have guests over, I take Talen to his grandmother’s place.” She cleared her throat and met his gaze. “Is it so surprising that I’m a mother?” she asked, slightly defensive.
“No, of course n—” He stopped and changed course, admitting, “Actually, yes. I don’t usually put much store in stereotypes but I didn’t expect you to have a child. I apologize for my assumption. What’s his name?” he asked, striving for polite interest when in fact, he could feel himself shutting down inside. Since Tyler’s death, Jeremiah did his best to avoid putting himself in situations like these.
“Talen.”
“Talon. Like the bird claw?” he asked in spite of himself.
“Yes. His father was Yupik and I wanted a name that would reflect his Native heritage.”
Tyler had been named after Jeremiah’s paternal great-grandfather, who had fought in World War II. The disagreement between him and Josie over the name had been epic. In the end, Jeremiah had won out only because Josie had been certain she was pregnant with a girl and thus had agreed to allow Jeremiah to name the child if it popped out a boy. The decision to wait to find out the gender until birth had worked out in Jeremiah’s favor. He still remembered the feel of his newborn son in his arms, the smell of his sweet skin, and the way Tyler had squalled loud enough to bring the hospital walls down. Unwelcome tears stung his eyes and he cut his gaze away from Miranda abruptly. “Well, I guess I better get used to sharing the coffeepot if there are going to be two early risers around here,” he said with a brief smile, signaling the end to the conversation.
“Maybe tomorrow I’ll surprise you with doughnuts,” she said, smiling, but he saw the questions in her eyes at his demeanor change. He wished he had the guts to explain but he wasn’t ready to let anyone know about his past—not yet.
Miranda retreated and headed for her office, leaving Jeremiah to his work.
But Jeremiah’s mind was not focused on work any longer. Perhaps it was the sleep deprivation, or maybe it was the stress of the move, but Jeremiah’s thoughts were as unruly and undisciplined as a willful puppy that nipped and bit because it didn’t know how sharp its teeth were.
Jeremiah tried not to think about Tyler. His pain and lingering grief made the topic of his son off-limits. In the months after his wife had left him, he’d often wondered if his talking about Tyler would have helped his wife deal with her own grief. But his ex-wife was consumed with hatred as well as grief and deep down he knew it wouldn’t have made a difference. But somehow blaming himself for the demise of their marriage seemed appropriate. Maybe it was his way of doing penance, even though he knew there was no escaping the guilt he felt for buying Tyler that damn ATV. The logical part of his brain told him Tyler’s accident had been simply that—an accident. But logic and emotion rarely lived in the same house. He still remembered the tipping point of his decision to buy the all-terrain vehicle. He’d been working eighty-hour weeks and he’d wanted to make it up to Tyler somehow. He’d known the boy had wanted an ATV, and even though his wife had disapproved, it’d seemed a small price to pay for his son’s instant gratitude. Of course, he’d had no way of knowing that the true price would be far more than he could afford to pay.
