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Erin ran a damp dishcloth over the refrigerator door and erased another smudge of green frosting.
The table resembled an artist’s palette and flour dusted the floor, making it look as if her kitchen had been the target of an early snow. By the time Erin pulled the last batch of cookies out of the oven, Max had been coated in a thin layer of frosting and sprinkles, looking a bit like one of the gingerbread men lining the counter.
She couldn’t help but smile at the memory.
Max was one hundred percent boy. Bright. Energetic. Inquisitive. And heartbreakingly sweet.
The trouble was, Erin had already had her heart broken once.
She turned the handle of the faucet with a little more force than was necessary.
Maybe she shouldn’t have been so quick to agree to babysit.
But somehow, Max’s wide, little boy grin had pushed every one of her doubts about keeping her distance from Lucas aside.
She padded down the hallway to the living room, where she’d left Max playing with the nativity set while she straightened up the kitchen. The wooden figurines had fascinated him. Erin had answered a dozen questions about each piece and tried to explain, in a way that a four year old could understand, why there was a baby sleeping inside the miniature barn.
Max’s lack of knowledge about the Christmas story made her heart ache.
As the son of a medical missionary, Lucas knew the Bible inside and out, but he had turned his back on his faith when they were in high school. He’d told Erin that he probably wouldn’t be able to live up to God’s expectations any more than he could his father’s, so why even try?
And even though Lucas had walked away from her, too, Erin had never stopped praying that he would eventually find his way back to God. Over the past few days, she’d felt the burden to pray for him even more.
There’s a reason You brought Lucas back to Clayton, Lord. Show him that You love him and help him let go of the past. Max needs Lucas to be a loving father…and Lucas needs You to show him how.
Peeking around the corner, she spotted the boy curled up on the sofa next to Winston, sound asleep, the ragged tail of his blanket clutched in one small hand.
An image of Lucas, holding the rumpled square of bright green fleece, rose up in her mind. He’d retrieved the blanket from the truck and brought it up to the house to give to Max before he’d left. Erin had been touched by the gesture, but the self-conscious look on Lucas’s face told her that he wasn’t comfortable with his new role.
Erin wasn’t completely comfortable with it, either.
He belongs to me.
Lucas. A father.
How many hours had she spent doodling their names in her notebook during study hall? Planning their wedding? Their family?
Their future.
Until he’d set out on his own and crushed every one of those girlish fantasies. Erin’s faith had been the only thing holding her together during those first few days. And as those days turned into months and the months became years, new dreams eventually began to kindle from the ashes of the ones that had once revolved around Lucas.
If you keep looking back, you might miss something good that’s right there in front of you.
One of her mom’s many pearls of wisdom. And one that Erin had finally taken to heart. It was the reason she kept a smile on her face and her calendar full. Every morning she asked God to teach her contentment—to show her the good that was right in front of her.
And right now, no matter how conflicted her feelings for Lucas Clayton might be, the “good” in front of her was Max.
As Erin leaned down to tuck a corner of the blanket more snuggly around his thin shoulders, she heard a soft knock on the front door.
By the time she reached the doorframe, Lucas already stood in the front hallway. And once again, her traitorous heart stalled at the sight of him.
Lucas had always been good-looking, but the last seven years had wrought subtle changes. At six foot two, he still towered above her, but he was no longer the lanky teenager that Erin remembered. The sun had permanently stained his skin a golden-bronze, a striking contrast to those incredible blue eyes. Clayton blue, Erin had heard someone call them once.
Erin remembered Lucas rolling his eyes when she’d repeated the comment.
“First we get a town named after us and now a color. What’s next? A mountain range? A national monument?”
“There’s nothing wrong with the name Clayton.” Erin had given him a playful swat on the arm.
Lucas had smiled that slow smile that never failed to melt her heart like butter in a hot skillet. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
Erin had been afraid to read too much into the statement. Until Lucas had leaned forward and kissed her.
Her first kiss…
Don’t. Look. Back.
Erin silently repeated the words. Lucas Clayton happened to be part of her past and, thanks to George Sr.’s will, an unexpected part of her present. But he was definitely not a part of her future.
That’s what she needed to remember.
“Lucas.” She flashed a polite smile—the same one that every cowboy who came into the café received with a cup of coffee.
He drove a hand through his hair and snowflakes drifted down like bits of silver confetti. “I’m sorry it’s so late. Is Max ready to leave?”
“He’s sound asleep.”
“Right.” Lucas sighed. “He usually takes a nap around this time. I’ll carry him out to the truck.”
Something in the weary slump of his shoulders tugged at her conscience.
“Would you like to thaw out with a cup of coffee first?” Erin couldn’t believe she’d said the words. Out loud.
And Lucas hesitated just long enough to make her wish she could take back the invitation.
Chapter Five
“Sure.” The husky rumble of Lucas’s voice scraped away another layer from her defenses. “I appreciate it.”
No problem.
Erin wanted to say the words but they got stuck in her throat. She was all too aware of Lucas as he followed her into the kitchen.
He let out a low whistle. “Max must have slept a long time.”
“What makes you say that?”
One eyebrow lifted. “The ten dozen Christmas cookies on your counter?”
“It’s only five dozen.” Erin reached for a clean coffee mug in the dish drainer. “And Max wasn’t sleeping. He helped me.”
“Max helped you?” Lucas repeated in disbelief.
“Technically, we divided the work. I baked the cookies and Max decorated them.”
Lucas’s lips twitched. “I guess the three-eyed snowmen should have given it away.”
Erin filled the mug, trying to keep her wits about her. Which wasn’t easy with Lucas three feet away. Close enough for her to breathe in the scent of leather, crisp mountain air and the hint of soap that was uniquely his.
You can do this. Just pretend you’re at the café and he’s a customer, remember? “Do you take cream or sugar?”
“Just black.”
So far, so good. “How did it go out at the McKinney place?”
Instead of taking a drink, Lucas folded his hands around the steaming mug, as if trying to absorb its warmth. “Ten stitches.”
“Ouch.” Erin winced.
“Don’t feel too bad for the steer,” Lucas said drily. “He only ended up with six of them.”
“Then who…” For the first time, Erin noticed the gauze bandage peeking out from the cuff of Lucas’s sleeve. “You got the other four?”
“That’s why I’m late. Arabella called my cell when I was on my way back and I happened to mention the injury. I’ll know better next time. Jonathan Turner was waiting in the driveway when I got back to the clinic,” Lucas said, his expression rueful. “I heard she was dating a doctor but I didn’t think I’d meet the guy while he was stitching up my hand.”
“What happened?” Erin was almost afraid to ask.
“Apparently he didn’t like my bedside manner—the steer, not Mr. McKinney.” Lucas shrugged. “It comes with the job, you know.”
“I’ll have to take your word for that.”
An awkward silence filled the space between them. Was Lucas remembering how she’d once dreamed of being a veterinarian?
Their eyes met across the table and Lucas set the cup down.
“I should go. Thanks again for keeping an eye on Max.”
Just like that.
Erin’s throat tightened. Apparently Lucas found it no more difficult to walk away from her now than he had all those years ago. Further proof that his feelings hadn’t been as deep as hers.
You weren’t enough to keep him here…
Vincent’s mocking words cycled through her mind and she turned away so Lucas wouldn’t see her expression. In her heart of hearts, Erin might wish for Lucas to still feel something for her, but she didn’t want it to be pity.
Poor Erin Fields. Still hung up on her first crush.
She needed to pray that God would help her let go of the past, too.
“I’ll pack up some cookies for you to take home.” Erin reached for a decorative tin on the second shelf and began to pack it with three-eyed snowmen and pink reindeer, hoping Lucas wouldn’t notice that her hands were shaking.
Which wouldn’t have been as obvious if he’d remained sitting at the table. But no. He got up, closed the distance between them in two short strides and began to help.
“You’ve got green and red sprinkles in your hair.”
“Christmas decorations,” Erin shot back, a little surprised that she could do polite and funny. “I get a little carried away.”
Lucas, however, didn’t appear amused. His eyes narrowed, searching her face as if he were looking for something. Or someone.
What did he see when he looked at her? The girl he’d claimed to have loved? Or one more mistake he’d made?
The air emptied out of Erin’s lungs as his fingers brushed against her hair. “Erin—”
Whatever he’d been about to say was lost in the high-pitched scream that pierced the air.
Not again.
Not now.
Lucas sprinted down the hall, vaguely aware that Erin was right behind him, already apologizing for something he knew wasn’t her fault.
He should have warned her this could happen, but he hadn’t anticipated being gone so long. And the truth was, he never knew when a dark memory would emerge and trigger another one of Max’s episodes.
The social worker had encouraged Lucas to give Max time to adjust to all the changes in his life. He’d gone through a lot for someone of his tender age, but he didn’t have the ability to process what had happened. Reality and imagination had a way of becoming tangled. The result was a waking nightmare for Max and a sleepless night for Lucas.
He rounded the corner and spotted Max bolt upright on the sofa, his small body rigid with terror, eyes wide and riveted on some unseen threat.
Erin’s soft gasp punctuated the air and Lucas remembered how he’d felt the first time he’d seen Max like this. The way he still felt when he saw Max like this.
He glanced at Erin to gauge her reaction. To his astonishment, she didn’t rush over, pick Max up and rattle off a bunch of questions that he couldn’t answer. She stopped in the center of the room, as if she trusted that Lucas knew what to do.
Yeah, right.
When it came to stuff like this, Lucas would have loved to defer to an expert. Unfortunately, there was never one around when you needed one. Max was stuck with a guy who knew more about four-year-old horses than four-year-old boys.
He lowered himself onto the sofa next to Max as casually as if they were going to watch Monday-night football.
“Hey, buddy.” Lucas didn’t expect a response. He’d learned that words couldn’t penetrate the invisible wall that separated them, but talking to Max made him feel better.
He slanted a quick look at Erin. She was watching them but her lips moved in a silent plea.
This was the second time he’d caught her praying. Erin’s faith had been strong as a teenager and it looked as if she’d held on to it over the years.
That made one of them.
Lucas felt a stab of envy that a close relationship with God had always seemed to come so naturally to her. Over the past few months, when he’d tried to get Max to safety, there’d been times he had wanted to call on God but figured he no longer had the right. He’d made a decision a long time ago to make his own way—it seemed a little hypocritical to ask for help when things got tough. Still, it was comforting to think that God might intervene on Max’s behalf because Erin was the one doing the asking.
Ignoring the dull ache from the stitches in his arm, Lucas carefully drew Max against his chest and waited. The only sound in the room came from the crackle and spit of the logs in the fireplace.
