Currant Creek Valley - By RaeAnne Thayne Page 0,38
More than anything.”
They hung up and he stared out at the night for a long moment. His son was his priority. He had to be, especially during the transition phase while they both tried to adjust to their changing circumstances.
Ethan had lost so much. First his mother, then the relationship he had once had with his grandparents. Now he was losing something else important—his home for the past eight months, the cousins he loved and the aunt and uncle who had stepped up to help Sam.
Was it any wonder his son wanted to control as much as he could in his life? It was up to Sam to give him the most stable, supportive environment he could when they finally settled into life here in Hope’s Crossing.
He was somber as he followed the GPS directions to the trailhead. As much as he wanted to see Alex again, he almost wished he had never gone to her restaurant earlier—and certainly that he hadn’t pushed so hard for an opportunity to spend more time with her.
He liked her, probably too much. When he was with Alexandra, he could forget about the weight of responsibility dragging at him like that seventy-five-pound pack he’d been thinking about earlier—the constant worry that he wouldn’t be able to give his son what he needed, that he wasn’t enough.
He needed to be focusing on Ethan and creating the best life he could for the two of them, not remembering that moonlit kiss the other night.
He would enjoy his impromptu hike with Alex tonight and spend the time trying to ease things back to a friendly footing, he decided. He didn’t see what other choice he had.
Still, when he drove into the trailhead parking area and his headlights picked up the sight of her waiting on a bench overlooking the town, a brown furry dog at her feet, he was aware of a fierce burst of something warm and bright he hadn’t known in a long time. It felt suspiciously like happiness.
Leo barked a soft greeting when Sam parked and headed toward them. He reached down to pet the dog at the same moment he leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek in greeting.
“You smell delicious,” he said, then could have kicked himself for the spontaneous words. That sounded very much like a come-on, after he had just told himself to keep things friendly.
“I probably smell like a kitchen, since I’ve been cooking all day.”
“You know us men and our stomachs.”
She laughed. “Yes, but I also know you can’t possibly be hungry. You just had a divine meal, which I happened to have fixed myself.”
“Men don’t always have to be hungry to want to eat,” he pointed out.
“Are you talking about food or sex?”
So much for casual friendliness. He shrugged. “Either. Both. Does it matter?”
She shook her head but he saw she was fighting a smile. “Come on. Let’s work off some of that...hunger...on the trail.”
She took off, the dog trotting ahead of her on a leash. He didn’t even have time to hand her a flashlight. She didn’t really need one—the moon was huge and full and lit up the terrain with a pale, unearthly glow.
The trail wasn’t steep but the climb was steady. This part of the route was also only wide enough for one across so they didn’t have much chance to talk.
He didn’t mind. It was probably better that way since he couldn’t seem to keep his big mouth shut. Despite all his good intentions, everything he had said to her since he pulled up to the trailhead had been provocative.
After maybe fifteen minutes of hiking, she paused at an area where the trail widened and the trees thinned, presenting a vivid view of the glimmering lights of the valley below. She pulled a water bottle out of the deep pocket of her jacket. Even as she drank, she didn’t release her hold on the dog.
“You’re not letting him off the leash?”
“Not yet. He’s obviously a runner or he wouldn’t have wandered down Main Street the other night. I don’t want to take the chance of him losing his way, not with all the pitfalls up here. Bear, cougars, coyotes. Moose.”
“Moose?”
She flashed him a look. “For your information, a bull moose could take out a Jeep if he had enough mad on.”
“Yet you have no problem hiking up here in the dark.”
“I’m tougher than I look, soldier. Besides, wouldn’t you have been sorry to miss that view?” She gestured below them.