Chapter 18
“Evelyn.” Joanne opened her arms and hugged Sloan’s mother. They were pulled up to the arrivals curb at the Albany, New York airport, Gus barking his head off inside the camper. “Thanks so much for coming.”
The older woman looked stylish in printed capris and a white tank, her once-blonde hair now silvery-white.
She smelled like baby powder and perfume, the same scent she always had, and Jo felt happier in that instant than she had in a very long time.
Evelyn laughed, leaning back to hold Jo’s arms wide. “Look at you! You’re all grown up.”
“You look great.” Jo was smiling so much her face ached. “These are my children.” She introduced Lucas and April, who waved uncertainly at the gregarious woman, but Fiona came in close and gave Evelyn a hug.
Sloan hugged her next. “Hi, Ma. Did you have a good trip?”
“Always.”
“Sorry you had to cut it short,” said Jo. “We really appreciate the help.”
“Happy to do it.”
Jo offered Evelyn the passenger seat, but she insisted she wanted to get to know the children. Gus attacked Evelyn as Sloan pulled away from the curb. “She’s a little desperate for grandchildren.”
“Mine could use a grandmother. Maybe we can work out a deal.”
“David’s mom isn’t around?”
“Oh, she’s around. Let’s just say she isn’t grandma material.” She twisted around in her seat. “I smell butterscotch.”
“She probably loaded her pockets with candy, like a mailman with a pocket full of bacon.”
She sighed. “I love your mom.”
“She loves you, too.”
Joanne stared out her window, watching field after field fly by.
She felt better after finally getting a good night’s sleep at the hotel last night, whether because of her physical distance from Sloan or Evelyn’s impending arrival, she wasn’t certain.
But she was keenly aware of having lost another day without finding Bannon’s money and the growing tension between herself and Sloan.
The latter was her fault. “I’m sorry about yesterday.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“I do enjoy your company.” She sighed, wishing she could give him a very different answer. “I just worry that it isn’t going to work out long term. And that’s fine for us, but the kids… I don’t know how to date with kids, to keep things light and casual so they don’t get attached.”
“We just tell them we’re going to dinner.”
She blew out air. “You don’t understand. You’re like that pocket full of butterscotch, and you don’t even know it. You’ve got each one of them wrapped around your finger just by being you. I need to protect them from getting hurt, and I don’t know how to keep them from caring about you.”
“They can handle more than you think.”
“They just lost their father, Sloan. He and I were separated, but he and the kids were not. Bringing you into their lives right now would be like replacing something they haven’t even gotten used to living without.”
“You make it sound like I’d step right into his place.
That isn’t what would happen. No one can replace their father, just like nothing could replace my arm.
Do you think I feel for one minute like I’m the same man with a prosthetic that I was with flesh and bone?
Letting me into their lives might be a good thing for us all. ”
She had so much sympathy for all he’d lost in service to his country, but that didn’t make his analogy fair or his reasoning sound. “I respectfully disagree. Their needs have to come first for a while.”
Laughter came from the back of the camper, where Evelyn was playing a game with the kids. Fiona squealed with delight. “They love her already,” he said. “Does that mean you want her to go, too?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. Can you please just respect what I’m saying here, and not pretend the kids playing Uno with your mother is the same thing as you and me dating? I have too much on my plate already, with David and this money and with Bannon. I just can’t handle any more.”
“You make it sound like I’m part of the problem.”
“No. You’re going out of your way to help us, and I couldn’t be more grateful.”
“Grateful.”
“Yes.”
He drove along for several miles. Had her words stung him? She found that hard to believe. But he was clearly upset. When he spoke again, he surprised her.
“I’m sorry.” He picked up a Twizzler from the open package on the center console. “You’re right.” He grabbed another and handed it to her. “Truce?”
She took it and nodded, torn between feeling relieved and suspicious. “Truce.”
He exited the highway and continued on a winding mountain road, the sun coming out to shine on the winter woods.
Her heart was heavy, wishing she could have given him a different answer, but she knew she was making the only choice she could in this circumstance.
This wasn’t about what she wanted, but what was best for her children.
Sloan picked up his phone and handed it to her. “Can you call one of those car rental places? The one that will pick you up. We could use a car with some get-up-and-go. We’ll leave this beast with my mother.”
“You sure there’s one out here?”
“We’re not far from civilization, believe it or not. The address of the cabin is in my wallet.”
She picked it up from the console and opened the billfold, doing her best to ignore the outline of what was clearly a condom.
She did an internet search on his phone and found he was right, there was a rental car company less than ten miles from here.
She placed the call, wondering against her better judgment when he would end up using that condom, and with whom. “They can be at the cabin in an hour.”
He nodded, turning off the main road and onto a more narrow one that followed a stream, its water rushing past snow-covered ground and snow-laden trees. The camper rounded a wide turn, a log cabin with a wraparound porch coming into view.
Jo unbuckled her seat belt. “This is beautiful.”
“It is.” She turned to him, his stare heavy and pointed. He wasn’t talking about the cabin, he was talking about her. Her face grew hot. How was she going to stay clear of him once the children were no longer traveling with them? One single look, and she was melting into the ground.
He moved to get out, breaking their connection. “Come on, Buckley, I’ll show you around.”