Healing Hearts (New Hope Falls #6) - Kimberly Rae Jordan Page 0,15

looked like they were both underweight, he wasn’t sure.

Ryker had a feeling that he was going to be as haunted by Sophia and Bryson as they were about whatever it was that had put those looks on their faces. Maybe it was time to go back to Nick. Certainly that would be the best course of action if he was about to find himself involved more deeply in their lives, and he couldn’t see how that could be avoided if he was going to continue to pick Vivianne up each day for the foreseeable future.

Sighing, he lifted a piece of pizza out of the box. What had been a simple job for the past few years had gotten remarkably complicated in the past few weeks. He just hoped that he was up for the challenge.

The next afternoon, Ryker pulled over to the curb and parked. He sat for a moment, wondering if it was too late to change his mind. Realistically, it wasn’t because he hadn’t told Sophia that he’d talk with Bryson yet. However, in his mind, he’d already agreed. The problem was that he hadn’t been able to talk himself out of it.

Not when he’d had a hard time falling asleep.

Not when he’d woken in the night with another nightmare.

Not when he’d crawled out of bed almost as tired as when he’d gone to bed the night before.

Throughout the day, he’d tried to keep from thinking about Sophia’s request, but that had been impossible.

And now here he was, parked outside her house, hesitating yet again, even though he knew that he wasn’t going to change his mind. So if he wasn’t going to change his mind, he just needed to get himself together and deal with it.

Pushing open the door of his truck, he climbed out then shut it with a little more force than necessary. Well aware that Sophia was probably watching him, Ryker tried to keep his steps measured and steady, portraying confidence that he didn’t really feel inside.

As he reached the bottom step, the door opened, and Sophia stepped out onto the porch. She wore a pair of jeans that hung loosely on her slender form, as did the large sweater she wore.

She crossed her arms as if warding off a chill that wasn’t in the air on that sunny spring afternoon, though she was dressed as if it was the middle of winter. Her blonde hair was pulled up on the top of her head in a messy bun.

With a wary gaze remarkably like her son’s, she watched him climb the steps to the porch. “Hello.”

“Hi.” Ryker blew out a quick breath and put them both out of their misery. “I’ll do what you asked.”

Relief filled Sophia’s face, and her shoulders lowered. “Thank you so much.”

“I hope this helps,” he said. “It might not. It might make things worse.”

“I know, but I really think he needs this.”

“Do you want to do it now?” he asked.

“Yes. If you have the time.”

“I do.” He’d left work a little early, so he could do this without being too late getting to Michael’s with Vivianne.

Opening the door behind her, she said, “Please come in.”

Ryker followed her inside, then, being mindful of the mud and grass he’d trekked through that day, he toed off his work boots. Vivianne’s car seat sat on the floor next to the couch, and beside it was Bryson. His fingers were resting on Vivianne’s arm.

“Hey, baby,” Sophia said. “Ryker is here to get Vivianne.”

Bryson immediately frowned and shifted closer to the baby. Sophia walked over to the car seat and lifted Vivianne out, then glanced back at Ryker. “Do you want to sit for a few minutes?”

“Sure.” Ryker went to the couch and settled down on it, feeling the puffy cushions suck him in a little.

Bryson got up from the floor and leaned against the far end of the couch, his gaze flitting between Ryker and Sophia.

“Would you like to hold Vivianne?” Sophia asked as she turned to him.

Ryker held out his arms, waiting for her to move close enough to give her to him. He’d held Vivianne several times by this point, but except for the very first time he’d helped Michael with her, none of those times seemed as important as this.

As he cradled her close to his chest, he ran his hand over her head, feeling the downy softness of her hair under his palm. He missed this part of his job.

“Do you like Vivianne?” Ryker asked, glancing at Bryson.

Once again,

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