Page 50 of Cougar Chronicles

Strange. Luisa had asked the same thing.

“I don’t know, sweetie.”

“But he went to get you.”

A wave of joy swept through Holly. “To get me? What for?”

“To bring you home, he said. Said he’d be back in time for supper, too. Luisa’s makin’ enchiladas.”

Bring her home? Did that mean…? Could she have passed him on the highway?

Her fingers glued to her lips, she turned to Luisa.

“He’s right. Jack went for you.”

“I didn’t think… I mean, he didn’t answer any of my calls.”

“He didn’t get any calls, Holly,” Sam said. “But that’s kinda my fault. I threw up on his cell phone. One of the pills made me sick. He had to throw it in the garbage.”

Holly burst into a giggle. Poor little Sam, sick to his tummy, puking on his dad’s cell phone. She stared at his rosy cheeks and big brown eyes. Thank God he was fine now.

Still, Jack could have called her. On the other hand, he’d been busy with Sam, who had no doubt needed his full attention. But one little phone call…

Stop it, Holly. He was focused on his son, and you could have come clean long before you did. He wouldn’t have gone for you if he didn’t care.

“Do you remember what happened that day, Sam? Why you fell from the roof of the barn?”

“Yeah. One of the kitties was on the roof crying. I had to get him.”

“Goodness me,” Holly said, hugging him again. “Your dad told you to go in for lunch.”

“I know but—”

She smiled into his curly dark hair. “It’s okay, Sam. All that matters is that you’re okay now.”

“I hope Daddy gets back soon.”

“I do, too.” Holly kissed his ruffled curls. He smelled like fruity shampoo and little boy. A ripple of motherly love surged into her. She loved this child. She wanted to protect him and take care of him.

“He’s driving up now,” Luisa said, looking out the front window.

Holly lurched forward and steadied Sam against her. “You do as Luisa says,” she told him. “Take it easy. Rest. There’ll be time for walking on your crutches once you’re a little stronger. I’ll go say hi to your daddy.”

“Okay.”

She helped him to the couch in the front room and then whisked past Luisa and out the front door.

Jack stepped from his pickup, her painting in his hand.

Suddenly shy, she slowed to a snail’s pace. But when he lifted his lips in that gorgeous smile, she ran into his arms.

He placed the painting on the ground leaning against a front tire and embraced her with strong and muscular arms. She inhaled the crisp combination of sandalwood, spice, and man that was uniquely Jack and sobbed against his shoulder.

“Shh,” he whispered. “Don’t cry, sugar.”

“When you didn’t answer my calls, I thought…”

He chuckled against her cheek. “Didn’t have a phone.”

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