Page 16 of Surrender

His question surprises me. For a man with no kids, he sure knows how to handle them. I guess he sees all sorts of contraptions parents drag in for their stay since he owns a motel.

“It’s in the trunk next to the suitcase.”

“I’ll grab that too, then.”

While Jack Powell is all business, I’m a floundering mess of nerves. If I had any other option, anything else, I would take it. Instead, I gather a burst of courage, wrap it around myself like a shield, and trudge through the ankle-deep snow into the house.

We enter through the garage into a short hallway that functions as the mudroom. An all-weather mat lines the tiled floor, and a row of hooks hang on the wall.

“Stomp your boots before you take them off.”

Lucy follows my instructions with all the vigor of an independent toddler. She plops down onto her tush and uses both hands to drag each of her pink boots off. “All done, Momma!”

“Good job, Peanut. I’ll take your coat, and we can hang it up here.”

“I do it!”

“You can’t reach.” I switch Bennett’s carrier to my other arm and hold out my hand again. “Let me hang it up, Lucy.”

She shrugs out of the puffy material, the sleeves turned inside out, but grips it between her hands with a scowl. “I said I do it, Momma.”

Jack slips into the room behind me. His touch is featherlight on my back as he moves around me and deposits our stuff around the corner. Tingles from his contact dance along my spine.

Was his hand intentional, or the brush of two people in a crowded entry?

“I’ll help,” he says to me, the low timbre of his voice making me shiver. Then he addresses Lucy, “Need help reaching the hooks?”

Lucy’s confidence retreats a little as she looks up at the tall, strange man.

Jack crouches down to her height. “Can I lift you so you can reach it?”

She hesitates, brown eyes flitting to mine.

“It’s your choice. You can say yes or no if you want to,” I guide her.

Her fingers tighten around the coat in her hands. With her mouth set in a determined line, she lifts her arms into the air at Jack. “I wanna go up.”

“Alright.” Jack slips his hands beneath her armpits and hoists her level with the hooks.

She struggles for a minute to get the hoop around the metal end before it slides into place. Jack’s patience is endless. As well as his strength. She wears a triumphant expression when he sets her back on her feet.

“What do you say to Jack?” I prompt, sliding off my own winter boots. A basic black rubber outer shell lined with fur. Minnesota winters demand functionality over fashion.

“Thank you,” Lucy says shyly.

“You’re welcome.” Jack smiles down at her. “Here, let me help you with that.” He relieves me of Bennett’s car seat.

“Thanks.” I shrug from my coat and follow him a few steps inside.

The house is a small open-plan rambler. The short hallway opens into the living area. There’s a front door off to the left and the kitchen to the right. Despite the size, the house is clean and updated. The fixtures are new, at least from the past decade. The hardwoods are a rich chestnut brown. A leather sofa and recliner face a flat-screen television mounted above a stone fireplace. Between the kitchen and the living room is another hallway that I assume leads to the bathroom and bedrooms.

“You have a nice place.”

His bored gaze zips around the space as if he doesn’t think much of it.

“It’s about as much space as I need.”

Lucy skips around my legs into the living room and skids to a sudden halt. “What is that?” The crescendo pitch in her voice reaches a near shriek.

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