Dream Baby. Ann Evans

you don’t look like a Charles.”

      He jerked his head up to glare at her. “That’s what my mother always calls me.”

      “You look like a Charlie to me. Do you mind if I call you that?”

      “I guess not,” he said in a soft, sullen voice. He stared at the deer as though memorizing every detail. “Marjorie’s still a dumb name.”

      “I named her after Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings.”

      “Who?”

      “The woman who wrote The Yearling.”

      He shook his head. “Never read it.”

      “Too bad. It’s wonderful.”

      The boy looked up at her again, one eyebrow raised in inquiry. “Any monsters in it?”

      “Afraid not. No car chases or killer tornadoes, either. But there’s a young boy in the story. He lives deep in the Florida woods with his family, and he finds a fawn, just like Marjorie here.”

      “Sounds exciting,” Charlie commented with a marked lack of enthusiasm. “When are you going to let her go?”

      Nora frowned and looked down at the yellow paste in her hands. “Perhaps in a few days.”

      “You don’t want to?”

      “She has to be released,” she replied, more for her own benefit than his. “She’s probably stayed too long as it is.”

      Charlie straightened, and Nora was aware that he was suddenly watching her closely. For a kid, he seemed very intuitive. She had the strangest feeling that he knew exactly how much the mistake she’d made with Marjorie was costing her.

      “You could lie,” he said quietly and gave her a sly look, as though they were suddenly coconspirators. “Tell them you let her go, but keep her instead.”

      “I couldn’t do that.”

      “Why not?” he asked. He seemed genuinely surprised by her answer. “’Cause you’d get caught?”

      “No. Because then she’d be miserable instead of me. She’s a wild animal who wouldn’t be happy living in a pen.”

      He seemed to give this thought serious consideration for a long moment. Then his shoulders rose in an elaborate shrug. “You should just do what you want, and the heck with what anybody else thinks, including Marjorie.”

      “Surely your parents taught you that’s not a very good way to live your life?” Nora said.

      The boy actually stiffened. With a quaint and somehow heartrending dignity he said, “My mom taught me everything I need to know, and she did everything right”

      His eyes had taken on a militant sparkle, and Nora realized that he was waiting for her to dispute that statement. She didn’t. Instead, she said lightly, “Wow. A mom who doesn’t make mistakes. I hope she’s going to write a book on motherhood.”

      “She’s a famous model.” Charlie’s expression turned to one of pride. “So famous that she doesn’t even need her last name anymore. Her name’s Thea. You’ve probably seen her. She was on two magazine covers last month.”

      Nora never bothered to follow the news about the “beautiful people,” but even she’d heard of Thea. The woman—in her early thirties—was the latest darling of the photographers. Some perfume company—trying to woo the aging baby boomers—had just given her an ungodly amount of money to be the star of their multimedia ad campaign. There was some other reason Nora was familiar with the woman’s name, but for the life of her, she couldn’t put her finger on it.

      She went to the sink and washed the spatula she’d used to stir Bandit’s medicine. With her back to Charlie, she said, “A mother who doesn’t make mistakes and is a supermodel. Your dad must feel pretty lucky.”

      “They’re divorced. He hates her.”

      She cocked her head in the boy’s direction, not certain she’d heard correctly over the sound of running water from the tap. “How do you know that?”

      “He took me away from her. Just to make her mad.”

      That statement carried such fury that Nora turned and looked sharply at the boy. She was about to engage Charlie in further discussion, but she became aware of Jake Burdette standing in the open doorway.

      Hot blood surged into her cheeks, and she was glad for the late-afternoon light that gave everything in the rehab shed a mellow glow. She wondered if he had heard the last of his son’s remarks. His face gave nothing away.

      Charlie—obviously expecting her to react to his words—turned his head and caught sight of his father. His posture went from stiff to ramrod straight.

      “Charles,” Jake Burdette said mildly as he ducked his head under the low doorway and moved farther into the shed. “You shouldn’t have run off without telling me where you were going.”

      An argument looked ready to drop from Charlie’s lips, and Nora plunged in quickly. “My fault,” she offered in an effort to lighten the sudden tension between father and son. “I’m always looking for someone to fetch and carry, and he was too nice to refuse.”

      Jake gave her a vague smile, his attention still focused on Charlie. “Get your things together from the car. We’re checking in.” He held up one of the Hideaway’s large key rings. “Cabin Two.”

      “You’re kidding.” There was no mistaking Charlie’s feelings about staying a night in one of the cabins.

      When Jake ignored the comment, Charlie sighed heavily, snatched the key from his father’s hand and stomped out of the shed without a look or word in her direction. Silently, the two adults watched him go.

      “Thank you for keeping him occupied,” Jake said eventually. “He didn’t want to come on this trip, and he’s been reminding me of that fact ever since we left Norfolk.”

      “No problem. He seems like a nice enough kid.”

      “Does he?” Jake replied with a surprised look and a light laugh. “I’ve yet to see much of that side of him. I’ve just recently gained custody, and our relationship is a little thorny.”

      “I’m sure he’ll come around.”

      It was the kind of hope-filled comment all parents like to hear, and he gave her a small smile to indicate he knew that. Then he looked at her in such a calm, deliberate way that her pulse jumped. Before she knew it, he was taking her hand, as though meeting her for the first time. “I’m afraid we got off on the wrong foot. Isabel speaks very highly of you, and I know firsthand that you’re very protective of her.”

      She dipped her head. “I’m rather embarrassed...”

      “Don’t be. Everyone should have a friend like you.”

      The words were low, but sounded so sincere that her pulse jumped again, even danced a little. Silly, she thought, and unexpected. Had it really been so long since a good-looking man had said nice things to her that she should react like a teenager on her first date? Jeckle began to screech unpleasantly, and Nora used the crow as an. excuse to move away from Jake Burdette.

      She removed the water bottle from Jeckle’s cage. “So,” she remarked in what she hoped was an offhanded way. “Isabel checked you in.”

      “We both felt we needed more time to talk. Do you object?”

      She shrugged. “If Isabel doesn’t mind, there’s no reason for me to.”

      “How long have you known her?”

      “Isabel answered an ad I’d placed for seasonal help three years ago. She’s been coming every break from college since then.” She looked up at him over the edge of Jeckle’s cage. “Well, all except the holidays last year when she met