I bit back a grin. So that was the problem. Harlan might be a hard ass who looked like he could scare the bark off a pine tree, but he was also the first one to step in if someone needed a helping hand. It had to be killing him inside that Jessa wouldn’t let him help.
“I’ll stop by and take a look at it tomorrow,” Thatcher said. “The fire’s ready. Who wants to be in charge of grilling tonight?”
Dane volunteered but Harlan grabbed the tongs before my little brother could get his hands on them. I sat back down on the tree stump and let all the tension of the past couple of weeks drain away.
It was good to be back at Friday night Trail Supper. I’d missed a few over the past couple of months since I didn’t have anyone to watch Lane, but I needed this. Needed something I could look forward to that would break up the monotony. Lane was everything to me, but it was good to have a break every once in a while. Even if it meant sharing space with someone as tempting as Calla.
The night wore on and we grumbled about work, the damn Ex-List, and why we hadn’t realized how easy life was back in high school. I was the first to leave. Calla had been at the house since seven in the morning, and I didn’t want to take total advantage of her.
When I pulled into the drive, it was after eleven. At least Lane and I didn’t have plans in the morning. He’d asked to visit the fire tower for a picnic, but otherwise there was nowhere we had to be. As I walked up to the front porch, I wondered how long he might let me sleep in. For a kid who didn’t get enough sleep, it didn’t seem right that he was usually up before the sun.
I turned the doorknob and tried to enter as quietly as possible. If Calla had fallen asleep on the couch, I didn’t want to wake her right away. But as soon as I cracked the door open, I heard Lane’s cries from the bedroom. He’d had another bad dream. I never should have left him. Never should have stayed out as long as I did. My pulse ratcheted up as I raced down the hall to his room.
All of a sudden, his cries stopped. I peeked through the crack in the doorway. Calla held him in her lap while she gently rocked back and forth in the chair by his bed. Her palm made small circles over his back.
“That’s it, Lane. Now tell me three things you can see.”
He sniffled. “My bed. King Chomper. You.”
“Good job,” she whispered, barely loud enough for me to hear. “How about two things you can hear?”
“You talking to me.” He paused, like he was listening for something else. “The chair.”
“You’re doing great. Can you tell me one thing you can smell?”
He inhaled and for a fraction of a second. I was jealous of my six-year-old for being so close to Calla and getting to smell her sweet skin.
“Cookies.”
She let out a gentle laugh. “I’m not sure if that’s me or you. Next time we make cookies together, we might need to clean up better.”
The fight had left him. I could tell by the way his body relaxed against hers and the evenness of his breaths. No telling how long he’d been out of it, but she’d brought him back. I sagged against the wall, wondering why my boy had to suffer. I’d do anything for him… slay dragons, travel to the ends of the earth to save him or gladly give up my own life so he could live one free from the shadows that haunted him. But it wasn’t that easy.
I pushed the door open and the sliver of light from the hall widened enough to catch Calla in the rocking chair with Lane clinging to her like a life jacket.
“Hey, bud. Did you have a bad dream?”
He turned to look at me, his eyes still full of sleep. “Yeah.”
“Want me to put you back to bed?” I held open my arms, ready to take over.
“Can both of you tuck me in?”
Calla met my gaze over the top of his head. Her brows arched, signaling this was my question to answer.
“Yeah. If that’s okay with Calla,” I said.
She nodded, and I reached out to pick up my son.
Memories surfaced of me and my ex putting him to bed together when he was a baby. We’d set him in the crib, then stare down at him, wondering how something so amazing and beautiful had come out of such a doomed relationship. She’d leave to go watch one of her shows, but I’d stand next to his crib and watch him sleep for hours.
Calla pulled the covers back while I laid Lane down on the bed. She was so close her hip brushed against mine. Want coiled deep in my belly, and I stuffed it down.
“Goodnight, Laneosaurus.” I bent over and kissed his forehead. “I’ll be right across the hall if you need me.”
Calla handed him King Chomper. “This guy said he’d help you keep the bad dreams away. Have a good weekend, and I’ll see you on Monday.”
She brushed his hair away from his face and squeezed his arm. Then she left the room, giving me a few moments of privacy with my kid.
