The New Baby. Brenda Mott

He grimaced. “I didn’t know Troy went inside your house until after the fact. We’ve got our canteens and some bottled water, but he always gets a kick out of using the kitchen pump.”

      Amanda softened. “Well, maybe I’m giving you a hard time.” She nodded toward the group of kids. “Troy told me Granny let the boys camp here frequently.”

      “She did.” Ian nodded, but he still looked properly chastised. “And I was given the impression your mom okayed it as well. Something about it being in your granny’s will? But with you staying here, I guess it was mighty rude of me to assume everything was settled. I apologize.”

      Leave it to her mother to fail to give her the finer details of Granny’s will. Bridget had barely hung around long enough to attend the funeral before heading out once more to her latest “hometown.”

      “It’s all right,” Amanda said.

      “I do have a defense, however, even if it is a weak one.” Ian’s dark eyes lightened with amusement.

      “Oh?”

      “I’m only a part-time scoutmaster. The regular guy had to stay home at the last minute with his sick wife and kids. Spring flu’s going around.”

      “Then you better get your flu shot,” Amanda said in her best nurse’s voice.

      He laughed, and the sound relaxed her. He was easy to talk to, like someone you’d known a long time. She supposed there was nothing wrong with making friends in Boone’s Crossing.

      “You don’t mind if we stay then?”

      “No.” She told herself she could handle having the boys around, but probably not often and not for long. “But I’d appreciate more notice next time.”

      He studied her. “Really, if it’s a problem, we can make this our last outing here.”

      Suddenly, Amanda felt like the bad guy. “It’s just that I came out here—to Granny’s place—for some privacy and a little quiet time.”

      “A vacation?”

      She shook her head. “You might say I’m working through some personal issues.”

      “Oh.” His tone told her he was curious, but not nosy enough to push. “So, I take it this is the first time you’ve been here in quite a while?”

      “That’s right.” Regret filled her all over again that she hadn’t come to Tennessee to spend time with Granny more often. Why was it that only hindsight was twenty-twenty? “I was just a kid the last time I stayed in Boone’s Crossing. Well, other than when I came here for Granny’s funeral.”

      “Ah—then you probably have no idea what you’ve been missing out on.” Ian sat down once more on the fallen log, scooting over to make room for her.

      “What’s that?” Amanda asked as she sat beside him.

      “BJ’s Barbecue. Established in 1995. It’s the best this side of the Mississippi.” He shifted his weight in such a way that his shirtsleeve touched her bare skin.

      Amanda resisted the urge to move—whether closer to him or farther away, she wasn’t sure. “Really? I guess I’ll have to try it sometime.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she realized how her comment sounded. Like she was fishing for him to ask her out. On the other hand, he could’ve been doing the same, bringing up the subject in the first place. Feeling jittery once more, Amanda subtly shifted farther away from him. “Although I’m not sure when I might have time,” she amended.

      “Busy schedule?” he asked. His dark eyes held a look of disappointment.

      Or was that only wishful thinking on her part? Like it or not, she was deeply attracted to Ian. “Most of the time, yes. I rarely take two days off in a row. But I don’t mind. My residents mean a lot to me.”

      “That’s nice,” Ian said, his tone softening. “I know Papaw sure thinks the world of you.”

      Amanda smiled. “Ditto. I know it’s not right to play favorites, but Zeb holds a special place in my heart. I feel like I’ve known him a long time, even though I don’t remember him as a child.”

      “He has that effect on just about everyone he meets.” Ian laced his fingers together and let his hands dangle between his knees, elbows propped on his thighs. “I sure miss having him at the house.”

      “I didn’t realize he’d lived with you.” Amanda tried to hide the surprise in her voice. Most people would go to whatever lengths it took to avoid taking care of an elderly relative.

      Ian nodded. “Yep. Right up until his mule bucked him off.”

      “Is that really how he broke his hip? I thought he was teasing me.”

      “No, he wasn’t kidding.” He looked straight at her, and she found it hard to pull her gaze away from his eyes. “Papaw’s always fancied himself a cowboy. I’ve tried to tell him Roy Rogers never rode a mule.”

      She couldn’t help but laugh. “No, but Festus did. On Gunsmoke.”

      “Yeah, that’s right, he did.” Ian watched the scouts, checking their progress of making camp. He was silent for a full minute.

      Amanda knew she ought to leave. She started to rise, words of farewell on the tip of her tongue.

      “Would you like to go to BJ’s with me?” Ian cocked his head, studying her intently.

      She froze in place and swallowed. “I don’t know, Ian. I—”

      “Hey!” One of the boys, a redhead wearing round, wire-rimmed glasses, shouted as he raced toward them. Troy Stoakes ran with him.

      They halted near the log, exchanged gleeful looks, then stared at Ian. “I thought you said there’d be no girl kissing on this camping trip.” Troy’s freckled nose wrinkled as he pursed his lips and grinned. “But you’re sitting mighty close to her.” He spoke in a singsong voice, waggling his forefinger at Amanda.

      His buddy snickered. “Guess she’s more fun than catchin’ frogs.” His face flushed as bright as his hair. He glanced at Amanda, then raced away, howling with laughter.

      “And she looks pretty good in a pink bathrobe,” Troy said, backing out of reach as Ian made a playful grab for him. He spun on his heel and took off after his friend, hooting and whooping.

      “I’ll get you both,” Ian called, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Just wait until you’re asleep tonight.” He chuckled, lowering his hands to his knees. “God, I love kids.”

      Speechless, Amanda could only look at him.

      He grinned, his dimples doing damage to her heart. “O-kay,” he said, drawing the word out in two syllables. “I guess those boys are better at mind reading than they are at reading trail signs.”

      Amanda’s face heated. “And here I thought only girls were that silly.”

      Ian rose from the log, offering her a hand. She took it, and let him help her to her feet. Again, she noted the work-rough texture of his palm and longing and regret filled her. Black memories swirled through her mind, threatening to darken the warm, sunny day and blot out the happy voices of the children in the nearby clearing. The familiar rush of adrenaline-driven anxiety filled her. She took a deep breath, focusing on a relaxation technique her therapist had taught her, and managed to shake off her panic.

      “Thanks,” she said, then realized she’d never finished answering Ian’s question. “About BJ’s—please don’t take it personally, but I’m going to have to say no.”

      He held up one hand. “Hey, don’t worry about it.” He studied her a moment, then gave her a good-natured smile that made it all the harder to walk away.

      Awkward silence stretched between them. “I’m home for the rest of the day,” Amanda said, gesturing toward