Betty Glasgow Hanawa > Writing Projects

Once Upon A Family (Excerpt)

ADVANCE READER COPY DISCLAIMER
This Advance Reader Copy is the property of Elizabeth G. Hanawa writing as Betty Hanawa. This Advance Reader Copy may not be sold, rented, loaned, or copied. This is an uncorrected copy and may differ slightly from the final published novel, which will be available from Triskelion Publishing, www.triskelionpublishing.com, June, 2004.

This work is copyrighted © as of 2004 by Elizabeth G. Hanawa, who holds the copyright.

Prologue

"Can you help me?"

Janie McDaniel looked down at the small girl who spoke to her eight-year-old son.

"What's the matter?"

The little girl ignored Janie and again addressed Stuart, "Please?"

"Sure. What's going on?"

"I can't find my grandda." She held her legs tightly together and bent forward slightly. "Can you find him for me?"

"Do you need to go to the potty?" Janie asked gently. "I could take you."

"You're a stranger." Dark blue eyes widened with cautiousness, even as she jiggled in distress. "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers. I can talk to other kids, but he's the only kid here."

"Yeah, most kids don't like Science Fiction," Stuart affirmed juggling an armload of books. "This is my mom. Do you know 'Matt the Monkey'?" He named one of the most popular characters in the fantasy world of toys and books Janie had created, first to entertain the First Graders she used to teach, and now used to earn her living.

The blue eyes lit with enjoyment. "Yes. Grandda brought me here to meet the lady who tells the stories."

Stuart bowed with a panache worthy of Prince Charming. "This is my mom who tells Matt the Monkey's stories."

Janie opened her tote bag for the little pumpkin to recognize Matt the Monkey, then shook the polite little hand. "Hi. Would you like me to help you in the bathroom?"

Dark brows knitted over slightly relieved blue eyes. "I still need to find my grandda."

Stuart shifted his books. "How about if you tell me your name and I'll get someone from the bookstore staff to look for your grandda while my mom takes you to the bathroom."

"Okay." She tucked her hand into Janie's. "My name is Cami and Grandda said he'd be in Science Fiction."

"Well, we'll just have to scold Grandda for disappearing when we find him." Janie assured her.

Janie helped the little pumpkin take care of her needs, then left her in Stuart's and a bookseller's care while she hurtled down four flights of stairs from Science Fiction to the basement level of the children's section.

She reminded herself she absolutely loved this bookstore, sprawled as it was throughout a renovated hundred-year-old three story plus basement mansion. That the elevator leaving science fact and fiction's top floor was only big enough for the two wheelchair-bound patrons did not detract from the building's charm. From the first floor landing, she could see the giggling gaggle of three-and four-year-olds in the basement cave.

A couple of the weekend fathers were surreptitiously checking watches. She wasn't more than a couple of minutes late, this time. She could hear her late husband chuckling in her mind: You'd be late to your own funeral.

Even over a year after his funeral, she still had to force herself not to sit in the corner and cry with the wailing mourner who lived in the back of her head. She had a job to do, children to entertain so their parents would acquiesce to their pleas to buy the toys Janie designed, the stories she wrote.

Catching the carved wooden ball topping the landing newel for balance, Janie swung herself down the final flight. Her foot caught in the loosened hem of her full long skirt.

Janie pitched forward grabbing futilely for the handrail. Just great. The only thing worse than tumbling straight downstairs was she could hear her son's voice: I told you last night you needed to hem that, but no-oh, you had to play with your puppets. A couple of straight pins will work just fine,' you said.

A solid chest blocked her fall. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around her. She and the weekend dad rocked to a stop.

Firmly held for just a moment, Janie could feel the sleeping goddess in her wake up and timidly nudge aside the mourner. Momentarily, she enjoyed the connecting warmth of a man's arms holding her tightly.

Reality quickly reasserted itself. Not only did the arms belong to a stranger, she still missed her husband.

Janie lifted her face from the comforting smell of lightly starched cotton surrounding warm clean male chest. Dropping her tote bag, she hopped for the railing.

"Thanks so much. Now if I," she tugged at the billowing skirt hem still tangling her foot, "can," another tug, "get," a final tug, "loose."

The warm hands grasped her shoulders a second time to right her from a backward tumble.

"Truly, I'm not a total klutz," Janie tried to assure her rescuer or maybe herself. "Just part-time. I'm practicing to turn professional."

"If you practice this way every day, you'll soon be totaled. In the meantime, don't give up the day job."

Janie's attention snapped up from her torn hem at the quiet baritone. "With that voice you could make a fortune on radio."

"So I've been told." Despite the light banter, the baritone sounded strained. "Are you okay now? As I continually tell my favorite almost four year-old, stairs are to be walked, not run."

"Thank you, Daddy, for that reminder." Standing two steps above him, Janie found herself looking into a pair of Texas summer sky blue eyes level with her own. Dark brows emphasized the deep blue, but silver glinted through the black hair tied in a neat ponytail at the nape of his neck. More silver than Janie had in her hair, and she'd survived the surprise Over-the-Hill party her sister threw her a couple of years ago.

Although the voice was pleasantly amused, the lines bracketing his mouth tightened from thinned lips. The corners of his eyes showed traces of years of smile lines fanning outward, but they didn't smile now. Anxious, scared, panicked. Janie didn't have enough ego to delude herself that the reaction was triggered by her almost tumbles.

"If you'll excuse me, I need to go." He released her shoulders, leaving her standing firmly on the stairs.

With a start, Janie realized why those eyes were frightened. Catching his arm, she stopped him two steps above her.

"Hey, is your favorite almost four-year-old about this tall," Janie held her hand slightly above waist level. "Dark black hair and deep blue eyes? Wearing orange bike shorts and a orange and white Hawaiian print shirt?"

Hope flared in an older pair of identical deep blue eyes.

"She's in Science Fiction." But Janie would not let him go without a lecture. "When you tell an 'almost' four-year-old where you're going to be, you darn well better be there."

"She was supposed to wait for me down here." He sat abruptly on the stairs, supporting himself on the handrail.

"She needed to potty. The potty down here was busy so she went looking for you for help."

He winced through his relief. "Do I need to get her a change of clothes?"

Janie shook her head, "Nope, Prince Charming persuaded her I could be trusted to take her to the Ladies. Hey, are you okay? Are you one those who panics after the crisis?"

He hung his head through his knees, breathing heavily.

"Should I call someone? Staff, wife, significant other, your cardiologist?" Janie caught herself before the mommy in her could reach a comforting hair to his shoulder or hair.

He took a deep breath, then a second then lifted his head with a lopsided grin, deepened and softening the lines framing his mouth, fanning joy from his eyes.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I haven't had a panic attack in nearly fifteen years, but it almost caught me that time."

"Kids will do that. I've got to go." The waiting children had been entertaining and battling each other with the balloon animals the clown had twisted for them. She signaled the staff member to begin her introduction.

"If you found her, why didn't you have them page me?"

"They are going to, but she says she's not supposed to tell her name to strangers." His full-blown grin almost made her hyperventilate. Janie refocused herself. "She says she's supposed to go to an older kid—" Janie smiled in acknowledgment of his confirming nod. "—and ask them to call security. Besides you should have told staff she was missing so they could put security on the doors."

The staff and parents had quieted the squirming crowd on the basement floor at the foot of the staircase.

"I just discovered she was gone from where she was supposed to stay. I was on my way to security when someone threw herself at me on the stairs."

"Ah, well," Janie shrugged. Dignity straightened her spine. She pulled her monkey from her tote and maneuvered him into position on her right hand. "Thanks for your help. Good luck persuading the little pumpkin to part with Prince Charming."

"Who exactly is Price Charming?"

"You have lost your place on the pedestal of Most Important Male in Her Life to him –my son. Deal with it, Grandda."

"As your son will learn, it's almost impossible to knock Grandda off the pedestal." He kept his laughter quiet under the staff member's amplified voice announcing the next entertainer. A deep chuckle circled around her, sending delightful caressing ripples from the goddess in her head through her spine to her curling toes. He held out his hand.

"Sam Michaels. And you are?" Blue eyes lit with enjoyment when her monkey blinked at him and extended his stuffed fuzzy paw to Sam's outreached hand.

The staff member was good at her job. "Imagine This Bookstore is delighted to present the creator of 'Forest Friends,' Jane E. McDaniel and Matt the Monkey."

"Nice to meet 'cha," Matt squeaked. "Come back with the pumpkin to see us."

A deep curtsy to laughing blue eyes received a formal bow in return. Janie turned and let Matt lead her the rest of the way down the stairs to the delighted smiles of their audience and the accompaniment of a toe-curling chuckle fading up the stairs to find his favorite 'almost' four-year-old.

Chapter 1

Two years later

"I am not having a long distance affair with Sam, not a one-nighter, not even a quickie. Sam is just a friend. No more, no less," Janie told her sister. "You don't have to worry about me falling into sex with him and getting my heart broken because it's not going to happen. He's a friend."

Janie controlled the fireflies popping heat through her.

"And that's why you keep looking down the road to see if his car is coming. Right, little sister?" Sherry's sideways grin didn't match her autocratic, queen bee persona. Along with their mother's white blonde hair, stunning Nordic bones and height, Sherry had their mother's knack of knowing when Janie wasn't telling the truth, especially to herself.

"All I'm saying," Sherry continued pointing out the obvious, "is the man left his music store, packed his granddaughter on a plane and flew 2000 miles to come to our mother's funeral. Since he never met Mother, personally I think he's got another agenda."

While she yapped, her husband opened the back of Janie's van, lifted several boxes from their mother's townhouse, and carried the stack into the garage. Matching Sherry in height, Robert's dark hair, more stocky build, and laid-back attitude gave people the impression of the quintessential slow-moving, slow-talking cowboy. He ambled past Sherry and Janie muttering, "Our friends live in Dallas. Didn't see any of them here."

Despite her firm intentions, their comments made Janie once more feel the ghostly light pressure of Sam's hands on her back, the firmness of the circle of his arms around her shoulders. A prickling still tingled in her fingertips and the palms of her hands where she had clung to his shoulders. Her mouth still tasted the light kiss he'd given her when he and Cami came to the house.

Just the same as common old static electricity.

Static electricity never feels like this kind of hot fire, her hormones blatantly reminded her.

A yellow jacket sting then, still throbbing.

Throbbing, uh-huh, sure.

Despite her hormones throbbing their message through her, Janie really wanted to ignore sex.

"He's a friend," Janie said firmly. "Both of you lay off. Besides, you should be grateful he got Stuart out of our hair while we finished clearing Mother's townhouse."

"When are they getting back from the aquarium?"

"Probably fairly soon," Janie told Robert.

"Thought I might see if he'd like to play a round of golf before supper."

"Lay off him, Robert."

"Hey," Robert got the hurt dumber-than-dirt look on his face that fooled many an opponent in legal issues. "Man's been entertaining his 6 year-old granddaughter and your 10 year-old son all morning. Just thought Sam might like to do something he enjoyed for awhile."

"I know what he'd enjoy," Sherry said with smirk. Janie again saw the bossy older sister who teased her unmercifully in junior high and high school. "But if he hurts you, I will take him out. There's lots of nice open land outside of Corpus Christi to hide a body. Or we could use our boat, weight him down, and drop him in the Gulf of Mexico."

"Before you kill him," Robert told Sherry, "let me at him. I can strip him of assets he doesn't even know he has."

"Both of you are crazy."

Flicking her unruly dirt-brown ponytail behind her back, Janie carried mementoes for herself and Stuart to the house. She opened the mudroom door to the yipping of Stuart's new puppy, but no scent of puppy-used newspapers. Hastily, Janie set down the box and hustled the puppy outside. At her praise, the puppy wiggled happily under her hands.

She looked up to see Sherry watching her with a smile.

"Have you forgiven Sam for bringing Stuart a puppy for his birthday without consulting you first?"

Janie picked up the Parson Russell and cooed at puppy licks accompanied by sweet puppy breath. "Yeah, kind of hard to stay mad at somebody who makes my kid happy on his birthday."

"I wish we hadn't had to schedule Mother's service on Stuart's birthday."

"Sherry." Janie popped the puppy into Sherry's hands knowing it was hard to be depressed holding a puppy. "Stuart's fine."

"I know how hard it was for you and Stuart to find Mother after her stroke." Sherry's hand trembled on the puppy's head.

Janie blinked back tears and wasn't surprised to feel her own German Shepard nudging her in comfort. She stroked her dignified watchdog's head, concentrating on the sensation of Prissy's coarse fur against the puppy's remembered softness.

She tried for a happy memory of her late husband to replace the horror of finding her mother on the bathroom floor.

Instead of Paul, though, her mind's eye handed her Sam: the look in his eyes, the half-smile he would give her, the tilt of his head, his earring glinting with the same sapphire blue as his eyes. Her hands wanted more of his silky ponytail sliding between her palms. Her body wanted to squirm remembering his subtle innuendoes, some she didn't get until hours after she got offline and reread what she'd saved of their Internet chats.

All the signals reminded her even now, standing on the pavement in the warm spring sun, that she still retained feminine power: alive, well, and working just fine, not buried nearly three years ago.

Janie forced herself to let it go and to stop looking down the road for his car. Sam lived 2000 miles away. Since she wouldn't allow herself a quick tumble, friendship was all they'd ever have.

"Are you positive you want to cook tonight?" Sherry asked when everything was finally unloaded and stored. "You look tired. Have you had any sleep since you found Mother?"

"Look like hell," Robert said, patting Janie's head.

His towering over six-feet height didn't give him the right to treat Janie with her much shorter stature like a small child. Janie knocked his hand away.

"Always the gentleman, Robert," Janie said when Sherry swatted him across his head. "Do not worry about me. Mother's services are done. We've sorted her stuff and made all the arrangements to pick up the rest of the stuff. The storyboard for Tina the Toucan left by courier this morning for the toy company. All I need to do now is figure out a new critter.

"My son didn't get his birthday party two days ago. He wants chicken fried steak and all the trimmings. He'll get it."

"Are you positive?" A tiny frown creased between Sherry's smooth blonde eyebrows, her light blue eyes took on the gray tints of worry.

"I'm fine, Sherry. Y'all go take care of your business. Don't forget to pick up ice cream."

"We'll get it." With their mother's patented sigh of resignation, Sherry got into the car.

Robert said something more about getting hold of Sam to play golf as he shut the car door. Janie could only hope he wouldn't interrogate Sam the same way their late Colonel father grilled high school dates.

A few minutes later, Janie had fed her dog and started to the side of the house to turn off the water hose when Sam pulled into the driveway. She scooped up Stuart's scamp of a puppy while Sam parked next to her mother's car.

Atop her dark wavy hair, so much like Sam's, Cami wore a colorful visor from the local aquarium and, like Stuart, carried a dolphin shaped water gun.

Janie looked at Stuart, who grinned at her with his dad's smile, his eyes sparkling with her own amber tones. She raised her eyebrows at him. "A water gun?"

From the other side of the rental car, Sam said innocently, "We got hot." He shot a spray of water from his, hitting Janie.

"Whoa, Sam, bad move," Stuart shrieked.

Janie promptly plastered Sam with a solid stream of water from the hose sprayer.

"Fastest hose in the state," Janie smugly told Sam.

He laughingly took the band from his hair and shook the water from it. Rich black shot with silver cascaded past his shoulders. Then he wrung the water from the front of his shirt.

"Would you like me to run your shirt through the dryer?"

Sam stripped the wet shirt off. "Guess I'll have to wear the shirt I picked up at the aquarium. Yeah, throw this one in the dryer. Along with yours," he shouted. He grabbed the hose with one hand and held her with the other thoroughly drenching her before turning the hose on Stuart and Cami who chased across the yard squirting each other and the dogs.

"You are a sneaky, rotten, man, Music Man," Janie declared. "And I'm sure glad you came to visit."

His arms came around her. He still held the hose with its sprayer no longer activated.

Sunlight sparkled like diamonds as it caught the drops of water on the curled hair of Sam's chest. His hand moved up her back lightly pressing her closer.

She leaned her head against his shoulder, smelling sunlight, chlorinated water, and skin. She absolutely would not buried her nose in Sam's chest and inhale healthy skin.

Even though she'd sidestepped Sam's hugs the entire time they were in New York City last Christmas, this time she couldn't resist. It would just be for a minute. Just to hear a healthy heart beat under her ear. To once again feel layered muscles over strong bones instead of withered muscle and fragile bones. To sniff, just a little, and replace the too long remembered scent of dying husband with the musky scent of clean, wet male skin. The tickle of chest hair against her chin surprised her. She hadn't realized it would be soft and silky.

She lifted her face to his smile and hesitantly accepted the warmth of his mouth when he dipped it to hers. Even though she didn't open her mouth to his invitation, he took her on a quick erotic dance sending shivers to the core of her femininity and leaving her clinging to his belt loops. The gleam of satisfaction in his dark blue eyes and his thumb perusing her spine reminded her of what she'd missed in the past three years.

No, she couldn't do this. He would stay her friend. She would not act on the quivering that started in low and snaked through her body, fed on the light pressure of his hands on her, warmed by the soft brush of the dark hair dusting his tan leg against her smooth calf, enticed by his dusky scent.

Thought he could be the tease, wreck her hormones and get away with it, did he? Well, two could play that particular game, much better than one. She slid her fingers across his chest. His nipples contracted as hard as hers at the touch of her nails.

"You feel like a cat or a large stuffed toy," Janie commented trying to minimize the sensuousness of his chest hair sliding through her fingers. She needed to make him crazy, not make herself crazier.

"'Hey, English Major, lemme be ya teddy bear.'"

"Good Elvis."

"'Thank you very much.'"

She reached for his hand, grabbed the hose, and danced away, screaming, "Sucker," spraying him in the face.

"Geez, talk about sneaky and rotten," yelled Sam. He stalked toward her, battling the water spray, when he found himself blocked by seventy-five pounds of growling German Shepard. Wisely, he stopped in his tracks. "Janie, your dog doesn't bite, does she?"

"Only people who threaten her mommy, right, Prissy, sweetheart? Stay still, Sam. Prissy, come. Heel. Good girl." Janie set down the hose and took Prissy by her collar. "Friend, Prissy. Put your hand out slowly to her, but don't touch me or Stuart because she really does think you were threatening me."

Sam extended his hand. "She won't hurt Cami, will she?"

"No, she's trained to protect me and kids. A DEA dog handle friend trained us to give Paul one less worry when he was dying."

Prissy investigated Sam's hand under Janie's gentle coaxing. "She won't bite you now, but don't make any sudden moves."

Prissy stopped growling although she stayed alert, keeping Sam under a watchful eye, even when she wagged her tail while Cami petted her. At Janie's command, Stuart turned off the hose.

"I don't get it," Sam remarked as all four of them and Stuart's puppy dripped their way into the house. "She didn't attack when we got here yesterday."

"My fault. My holding her collar yesterday when you got here made you acceptable until she thought you were attacking me just now. When I ran screaming away and you came yelling after me, her training took over." Janie tossed unfolded clean towels from the laundry basket at Sam and the kids. "From now on, talk to her and let her check you over before you get out of the car. She'll remember you, but she'll be suspicious. It'll take a while before she'll trust you again."

"I've got an ex-wife who feels the same way." The thought of his ex left a bitter tang making him want to spit.

Janie grinned. "And ex-live-ins, and ex-girlfriends, and ex-one nighters, and ex-etcetera."

"I'm not that bad. You and your dog are both..."

"Soap," warned Janie. Her toffee brown eyes twinkled.

"Overly cautious females," Sam promptly responded.

"Good comeback," Stuart smirked at them. "I thought you were going to use the female term for a dog and then I'd have to hurt you if you applied it to my ma.

"Just what were you going to do about it? Hit me in the kneecap?" he mocked.

"Be careful. I will defend my ma. I know karate and other Japanese words," Stuart replied with dignity, drying his hair.

"Ooh, I'd better be careful then," Sam saluted the defender of motherhood. He pulled a souvenir shirt from the bag he'd gotten from the car and pulled it over his head as Stuart took Cami to show her the guest room to change into dry clothes.

His head popped through the neck hole, hair flying with its own life. He smiled at Janie wondering how much the chill from the air-conditioner on her wet clothes caused her trembling or if she was as horny as he was. He raked his hair back into a ponytail, grateful it was still thick despite all the silver in it, and wrapped the band that had been on his wrist around it.

Sam followed Janie into the kitchen, asking, "Did my moving company get hold of you?"

"Yes, they'll pick up Mother's piano on Monday and ship it to California with their next partial. You didn't have to pay us for it. Sherry and I would have given it to you."

"Never let it be said that I took advantage of a woman, or women in this case, in any shape, form, or fashion. Besides, I know what restoration a hundred year-old piano needs. If I didn't think I could do it and sell it for a profit, I wouldn't have offered. It really is in excellent shape."

Janie shrugged with the indifference of someone who had proved her musical talent consisted of turning on the radio.

From the family room, they could hear Cami showing Stuart how she could play "Twinkle, Twinkle" on Janie's late husband's piano. Sam winced at a sour note.

"And I'm tuning that one."

"Up to you. It's hard to keep a piano in tune this close to the beach. Too much humidity."

Sam winced again at another note. "I bet you haven't had that tuned in years."

Sam watched Janie's face soften with love, followed by a chasing shadow. He could nearly see her shove her husband's death out of her thoughts and heard the brittle, forced cheerfulness in her voice. "I've been busy. Stuart said something when he started lessons again, but I keep forgetting."

Sam fought a losing battle with envy over the dead man's hold on Janie. She still wore the thick gold ring that told Sam and the world she belonged to one man and no other. He reached to gather her into his arms, to comfort her, to warm her, to remind her he was here and alive. Once again, she sidestepped him.

"I need to get changed into something dry and warm."

Cami pattered into the kitchen in the dry clothes he'd brought from the hotel for her to wear after she and Stuart went swimming. "Grandda." She tugged Sam's arm imperiously. "Stuart's piano sounds weird."

"I know, baby." Sam lifted her for a cuddle, wishing it were Janie in his arms. "I'm going to fix it. I'll need some tools." He turned his attention to Janie. "Could I leave Cami with you so I can get in a round of golf with Robert? I could take Stuart to his friend's for you."

"What am I gonna do while Stuart goes horse riding and you play golf?" his grandbaby demanded.

"Take a nap." Sam hushed her grumbling with a finger on her pout.

"I don't wanna take a nap." Her head on Sam's shoulder, her fingers wrapped around his restored ponytail, she obviously struggled to keep her eyes opened.

Janie said, "If you could take Stuart, I'd appreciate it. Cami, if you'll stay with me, maybe we can figure out a new critter for your nap time story."

She held out the arms to Cami that Sam wanted around him. Cami shifted into her arms. Janie smiled with obvious pleasure at the sleepy bundle she held.

Once again Sam tamped down envy, torn between jealousy that Janie held Cami instead of him and a stupid feeling of betrayal that Cami had so easily deserted him.

"Maybe a kitty, like your kitty?"

"Hmm, maybe. Let's think about it."

Sam kissed Cami's cheek then brushed one across Janie's, wanting more, settling for less. "Okay, sweet dreams, you two. Come on, kid," he told Stuart. "Let's go."

* * *

Janie put the last supper dish into the dishwasher and felt her head spin. Nausea hit her as the lingering odor of the hot grease from the chicken fried steak battled with the cloying sweet scent of the cherry cobbler Stuart wanted instead of birthday cake.

"Janie? What's wrong?" Sherry asked.

Janie couldn't talk. She lowered herself to the floor.

"Janie, what's the matter?"

Janie lay on the floor, too dizzy and too tired to answer. She could dimly hear worried voices, but couldn't get her voice to function to tell them not to worry. The nausea passed and Janie drew peace from resting on the cool tile floor. Even the dizziness receded when she closed her eyes.

She felt Sam's palm on the side of her face, caressingly comforting as he cradled her cheek. His callused fingertips were firm at the pulse point of her throat under her jaw.

"Pulse is even; not thready like it would be if she fainted. Hey, sweetheart, you're scaring the kids and your sister."

Janie dragged open heavy eyelids to see deep blue concerned eyes contradicting the calm tone in his voice. The worry eased when Janie blinked at him, then she closed her eyes and rubbed her face against his palm still resting lightly on her cheek.

Through the haze fogging her mind, she heard Sherry's voice. "I told her she was doing too much. She needs to rest."

Janie tried to get her fuzzy thoughts together while she enjoyed the contrast of the cool ceramic tile on one side of her face and Sam's warm palm pressed on the other side with the gentle breeze of Sam's breathe across her skin.

"She's done this since we were kids. She worries then doesn't sleep. Remember, Stuart, when your dad died and she went seventy-two hours without sleep?"

"Yeah," said Stuart in relief. "Then she slept twenty-four hours straight."

Sherry peevishly told Sam, "She stayed the entire time Mother was in ICU. She wouldn't leave."

"Her e-mail to me was timed at 3:00 am," Sam said, "and she said in it that she had three hours sleep, but couldn't sleep anymore. Janie, I'm going to lift you and lay you on the couch."

Janie wanted to tell him to just let her lay on the floor. She was real comfortable. Before she could get her brain to connect the words, Sam lifted her arms around his neck. "Can you hold onto me, sweetheart?"

Thank goodness, she literally worked her butt off and lost twenty pounds three years earlier. A wave of guilt washed through her at the luxury of being carried, something she never thought to experience.

Paul had refused to carry her over the threshold when they were on their honeymoon. Of course, at 5'8" he'd been only 5" taller than Janie and outweighed her by thirty pounds. Still, she'd missed that newlywed nicety.

Six feet tall and strong from daily swimming, Sam lifted Janie as effortlessly as he lifted Cami. With her arm around Sam's neck, Janie wrapped her fingers around Sam's ponytail.

He laid her on the sofa. Sherry tucked an afghan around Janie, scolding the entire time.

"Sure we don't need a doctor?" Sam knelt beside the couch. She felt the gentle tugs as her curls wrapped themselves around his stroking fingers.

"She'll probably be okay. Just needs some sleep. Babe, I told you we should have spiked her iced tea with some sleeping pills." Robert glanced at his watch. "Sherry, we've got to go. We've got to catch that last flight."

"I'm staying here. I'm going to keep an eye on Janie."

"Now, Sherry, you've got a meeting in the morning. She'll be okay. Just needs some sleep."

Through the open French door to the patio came Janie's dog to protect her. Robert caught Prissy's collar just before she launched herself at Sam.

"Down, Prissy," Robert ordered.

"Friend, Prissy, friend," Stuart shouted over Prissy's barking and growling. Stuart's Scamp added high puppy barks to the din.

Janie sat up. "No, Prissy, friend. Sit. Down. Stay."

"Your dog hates me," Sam assured Janie.

"I don't," Janie murmured against his neck. Prissy whined from her prone position beside Robert. Robert's knuckles were white on her collar. "Prissy, come. Let her go, Robert." Prissy inched her way across the floor on her belly. She put her head on the couch beside Janie. "Good girl, Prissy." The Shepherd curled one lip in a silent snarl at Sam. "Bad girl," Janie rattled the collar against Prissy's neck. Prissy subsided. She and Sam exchanged baleful looks. "Sherry, go home. I'll be fine. I just need some sleep."

"I'll stay with her."

Janie's hand froze in Prissy's fur. She turned to look at Sam. "I don't think so."

"You didn't see how white you got. How white you still are. Somebody needs to keep an eye on you." Sherry nodded at Sam.

"I'll be fine. Sam is not staying."

"I'll get our stuff from the hotel," Sam said firmly. "We're staying here."

Despite not wanting to leave Sam's arms, Janie's rational brain tried for one more excuse. "I don't have the energy to change the guestroom sheets."

"I think the kids and I can manage sheets." Prissy accepted the gentle tug on her ear with a thump of her tail.

"Not much difference between him in the guestroom and y'all sharing a suite in New York last Christmas. You could always sic the dog on him if he gets out of line," Robert suggested.

"I think the dog's falling in love with him, too." Sherry ignored Janie's weak glare and took her purse from Robert.

Janie sagged against Sam's supportive chest, suddenly tired again.

"Going to let him stay then?" Robert asked.

"I guess."

Sam's arm tightened around her at the unexpected acquiescence.

"I never understood why they were at a hotel anyway," Stuart said cuddling his puppy.

Robert shrugged in agreement while Sherry snorted. Janie could feel her skin heat with a blush. She wouldn't think about the heat spiraling upward through her.

"Kiss your sister good-bye. We need to catch that plane."

Janie sat up and Sherry hugged her. "I'll call tomorrow."

Robert hugged her also, then he scurried Sherry out the door to make their plane.

Cami patted Janie's cheek. "Are you sad because your mommy died and your sister went away?"

Janie hastily blinked away the sting of sudden tears. "Yes, I'm sad, but also I'm tired, pumpkin."

"Sometimes when my mommy's tired and sad, we take a bubble bath together. Want to do that?"

"Aunt Janie's really tired, baby," Sam said, attempting to forestall further helpful suggestions from his granddaughter. "She needs to go to bed. Why don't you and Stuart come with me to the hotel?"

Cami blinked wide, beguiling blue eyes up at Sam. "Because I'm tired, too. And my hair's stinky from the pool. I wanna take a bubble bath with Auntie Janie." Cami turned her hopeful gaze on Janie. "Don't you want to take a bubble bath with me? Bubble baths are fun."

If Sam ever turned the gaze Cami had learned from him on her, Janie knew she'd melt.

"Yes, bubble baths are fun," Janie agreed, unable to help herself. She looked from Sam to Cami. "She can wear one of my t-shirts as a nighty. We'll take a bubble bath while Grandda gets your stuff, okay?"

"I'll wait until you and Cami are out of the tub," Sam announced with an amused shake of his head. "I'm not leaving and run the risk of you slipping in the tub with only the kids here."

"I won't slip."

"More people are killed in bathroom falls than anyplace else," Stuart announced with authority. "You passed out. You might slip if you get groggy again. I can't lift you. Sam should stay until you're in bed."

Janie bit back her smile at Stuart's backup of superior male logic. She wouldn't let herself look at Sam. She could tell by the way his arm curled around her shoulder, his hand clasping hers that he also enjoyed Stuart's proclamation.

"All right then. Let me walk you to your bathroom and you and Cami can have your bubble bath. As Stuart said, once you're in bed, I'll go get our stuff."

"I can get to the bathroom myself."

"Humor me." Sam stood and reached a hand down to her.

Janie set her hand in his, accepting the strength. Her head spun briefly, but relief cycled through her along with the now familiar sexual buzz when he wrapped an arm around her waist. Cami scurried to the guest bedroom to get her panties to go with Janie's promised t-shirt.

Janie's watchdog met Sam at the bedroom door, but allowed him to pass when he returned from checking out of the hotel. The scent of bubble bath still clung gently to Cami curled beside Janie when Sam kissed his grandbaby's cheek. Stuart and his puppy slept in a sleeping bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. From a topaz velvet cushioned chair in the corner of the room, Janie's Siamese looked at him with slitted inscrutable blue eyes. He put a bookmark in the book he took from Janie's lax hands and laid it and her glasses on the bedside table.

Lavender wafted from the tight, dark honey corkscrews framing her face. Once again he marveled at their springy texture when they wrapped themselves around his fingers when he stroked her head. If Medusa's snakes were half as captivating as Janie's curls, he could well understand why Medusa turned men to stone. Janie's curls definitely did it to him.

Janie opened amber eyes before he turned off the light.

"Go back to sleep, sweetheart. Just checking."

She smiled at him. His heart tightened with longing to see that sweet, sleepy smile directed at him on a regular basis.

He leaned down and received a soft, sleepy kiss in return for his to her. "Good night, sweetheart."

"Can you stay with me?"

Sam closed his eyes, wishing against the pain of further hardening that the invitation had come at a time when Janie wasn't so exhausted, and the kids weren't in the room with her. The dog would probably kill him anyway.

"Please?" She whispered, still mostly asleep.

"Let me go take a shower." He caved. "I'll be back." Hopefully not in as much pain.

The ringing telephone woke Sam the next morning. For half a moment, he relished the warmth of Janie's head pressed against his shoulder on one side and Cami curled in a sleeping bundle on the other.

Janie sat up, dream-filled brown eyes blinking blurrily at him. The phone rang a second time and her fragrant warmth moved from his side as she rolled over to answer it.

"Hello?" she said, her voice as soft as the cotton nightgown Sam rubbed between two fingers. "Yes, he's here. I live so far out in the country cell phones are a trifle erratic about getting signals. Here he is.

"Your daughter," Janie told Sam.

Janie watched Sam talk to his daughter explaining the decision to stay at her house, vaguely remembering asking him to hold her. She thought it had been a dream, but obviously it wasn't. She had to admit she felt tremendously better with nearly ten hours peaceful sleep. Her sub-consciousness filtered in sleeping memories of the hours against Sam's body, the comforting rumble of his voice soothing her back to sleep when unhappy dreams briefly woke her, warm legs against her early morning chilled feet. She'd been so cold at night since Paul died. She'd missed the warmth of the physical comfort of marriage.

"No," Sam said starkly. He sat up, his face draining of happiness and color before Janie's eyes.

"Hang on, let me get something to write on." He gestured frantically at Janie who scrambled for scrap paper and a pen to hand him. He wrote down a phone number then dismally said, "I don't know. I can't take Cami. I'll be okay. Don't fret, Darla, darling. It'll be okay. I'll get there. Don't worry so, darling. I'll get through it."

His voice became noticeably lighter, "You want to talk to your baby? Cami, talk to Mommy."

Sam handed the phone to Cami who was blinking like an owl in sunlight. Her face lit with a beautiful smile, inner happiness spreading through her.

The same smile no longer showed on Sam's pale face. He got out of the bed and left the room. A few minutes later, Janie joined him in the kitchen. His hands shook when he tried to fill the coffee maker. She took over and started the coffee brewing.

Wordlessly, he reached for her. She wrapped her arms around him to give him back the comfort he'd given her the past days.

"What happened?" She asked against his shoulder. She could feel him trembling.

"One of my best friends had a heart attack. They've been trying to reach me all night. I turned off my cell phone," he said bleakly. "He may die."

"Then get on a plane and go to him."

"By the time I get to California to get Cami back to Darla and then head to Nashville, it may be too late."

Janie lifted her head and looked into his frantic, grieving eyes. "Then leave Cami with us and go directly to Nashville."