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Right. She was a nurse. I knew that much. She’d said she was divorced. And apparently she was a mom.
Did she legitimately have to leave that night? Why hadn’t she said anything?
Would I have found a reason to quit talking to her if she had?
Her familiar voice, touched with warmth and support, brought me out of my head.
“I think you might’ve gotten it crunched against the ball.” She leaned over him. “Do you remember everything, like getting knocked down?”
I glanced at Stetson to find him staring at me. He’d caught the quick exchange between me and Em. Emery Halliwell.
A little girl a few years younger than Landon appeared next to her. “Is he okay, Mom?”
Two kids?
“He’s fine, hon,” Emery said without taking her eyes off Landon. She wasn’t sure he was fine, but she was telling her little girl that.
Twokids. Why did that seem so much more significant than one kid? Other than it doubled what she didn’t mention the night we were together.
She worked through Landon’s extremities, inspecting him. After she was done, she nudged Stetson out of the way. Stetson was a big guy, but Emery acted like he would do what she wanted without question. And since her actions screamed competence, he moved.
We’d gone fromwhat the fuck do we do?to being damn lucky the kid’s mom was at the game and that she was a nurse.
“Let’s get your helmet off, kiddo,” she said softly. Nothing about her tone would alarm Landon. Hell, it was calming me.
I helped her as much as possible, and the little girl patted Landon’s hand. Her hair was a medium brown, a shade between Landon’s dark brown and her mom’s light brown.
Another girl appeared, older this time, holding a toddler. She spoke to the girl. “Come on, Afton. Let’s give Mom some space.”
Threekids?
The toddler reached her arms toward Em. “Mama.”
What the…
I lost the professional detachment I’d been striving for and gawked at Emery. “How many kids you got?”
Her guilty gaze met mine before it swept across her kids. All four of them.
Four. Kids.
Was she really divorced?
Landon picked that time to ask, “Where’s Dad?”
Emery’s features tightened. I didn’t miss the blazing anger before she looked away. “He couldn’t make it. You can try calling him later.”
Aw, hell. The kid had been so excited about his dad seeing his first game. Emery’s response told me a lot. Yes, she was most likely divorced. And she wasn’t promising Landon that his dad would talk to him. So that clarified what was keeping Landon’s dad away.
Henry Halliwell was a dick.
“Why don’t we help you up and see if you can walk?” Emery braced her hands under Landon’s shoulders. Stetson and I circled around him. Landon stood and tested out his weight on his feet. One arm hung at his side and the one he said hurt was curved into his belly, like it was tender but not excruciating.
“I think I’m good, Mom.” He started to the edge of the field. His teammates and the families in the stands clapped for him. Landon ducked his head like he was embarrassed.
Stetson and I stood on either side of the pair, and the girls followed.
She patted his shoulder. “Okay, let’s head to the parking lot.”
