That Carrington Magic - By Karen Rigley Page 0,67

could have your compass in pieces by now or all the food arranged by color. With my son, you never know.” Jami gracefully hopped off the boulder and together they headed back toward camp.

Jami reached the dome tent and stepped inside, not certain what she would find. Toby sat cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by three separately stacked mess kits. One was new and shiny, one dull, dinged and very old, and the third was somewhere between with a silvery sheen tempered to pewter gray.

“Good job, slugger,” Grant said, stepping into the tent behind Jami.

“See, now they match.” Toby flashed a lopsided grin at Grant. “Want me to sort anything else for you?”

“No, thanks.” Grant recalled Jami’s statement about her son coordinating food by color and grinned back at the boy. Both mother and son were full of surprises. Sometimes delightful, always intriguing, surprises. “That’s enough work for now. It’s time for something fun.”

“Roasting marshmallows?” Toby eagerly asked.

“No. That’s after supper.” Grant tugged off his tank shirt and pulled on a gray T-shirt. “It cools down toward evening. I hope you two brought some warm clothes and long pants.” He raised a questioning brow at Jami.

“We did.” Jami exhaled as Grant replaced his skimpy tank with the short sleeve shirt and yanked the bottom of the shirt over his stomach. Part of her was relieved that the lanky Texan covered some of his magnificent flesh. Part of her hoped he wouldn’t cover too much more. “Ah...should we change now?”

“We’d probably all be wise to trade our shorts for long pants, but it’s still too warm for long sleeves.” Grant shot Jami’s legs a scorching glance. “Though, it’s a shame to hide such nice gams.”

“What are gams?” Toby asked as Jami’s cheeks burned.

“Legs.” Grant flicked another hot gaze over Jami from head to toe and back again. “Legs like your mother’s.”

“Oh,” Toby replied, sounding disappointed. Suddenly the child’s enthusiasm resurfaced. “So after we change clothes, what’re we going to do?”

“I think it’s time for a nature hike. Sound fun?”

“All right!” Toby leapt to his feet to slap hands with Grant in a high five. “Mom, are you coming with us?”

“I guess so.” Jami glanced at Grant, so natural next to her son. She’d never seen Toby show such emotional attachment to an adult. She swallowed hard—except to her. “I’ll go put on my jeans. Toby, where’s your backpack?”

“Right there.” The child pointed to a purple sleeping bag. She saw his backpack beside it with a penlight flashlight sitting on top.

“Good. Please change, and I’ll meet you two outside.”

“There’s more room to change clothes in our tent,” Grant offered as Jami left the bright dome tent for the dappled sunlight.

“The pup tent will be fine.”

“Sure. Lots of room in there,” Grant replied with amused sarcasm.

“No problem.” Jami pranced to her weathered pup tent and ducked down to enter. The dim interior was warmer and stuffier than before, even though she’d left the door flap tied open. Several flies were buzzing around inside. She swatted at them, wishing her tent had netting like the dome tent. The pup tent wasn’t high enough for her to think of standing up, so Jami was forced to crawl to reach the jeans out of her tote bag.

Her blue-jeans wouldn’t go over her damp sneakers which she eventually had to remove. She nearly tipped over trying to get her legs into the jeans and ended up sitting down with a thump. A few groans and grumbles later she finally squirmed into her pants.

“Are you okay in there?” Grant rumbled from outside the tent.

“Just fine.” Jami nervously glanced at the tent opening, hoping he couldn’t see inside and had not witnessed her struggles.

“What’s taking you so long, Mom?” Toby hollered, poking his red-topped head in through the doorway.

“I’m ready.” Scrambling out behind her son, she blinked in the warm sunshine, inhaling fresh pine-scented air that was considerably cooler than the stifling pup tent.

“You may want to close up that tent,” Grant advised, watching Jami’s approach.

“You’re always telling me what to do.” Hands on hips, Jami stood scowling at him. “It’s suffocating in there.”

“You’d rather entertain uninvited company?” Grant’s gaze met hers in an unspoken contest of wills—male against female—an unresolved challenge as old as mankind.

“What uninvited company?” Jami queried, considering his words while not blinking down from the eye contact.

“Forest creatures, snakes, spiders, insects...” Grant shook his head, finally dissolving the stare-down as he glanced around the wilderness surrounding them. “Whatever decides to venture into your pup tent.”

“But