A Texas Soldier's Family by CATHY GILLEN THACKER Page A

want to nurse every two hours instead of every three or four!”
    “Unfortunately, that may not happen for a while,” Lacey warned her. “Max is in a growth spurt. And like all healthy males, he wants what he wants when he wants it.”
    Everyone in the room chuckled at the pediatrician’s joke, including Garrett.
    Hope met his eyes.
    He shook his head, grinning.
    A new spiral of warmth slid through her.
    Humor, she realized, could do a lot to get them through. Well, that and a little romance...
    “So, there are two options,” Dr. McCabe continued, bringing Hope back to the problem at hand. “One, is to tough it out and let your innate maternal response to your baby’s distress push your body into producing more milk. That usually takes a few days. The other is to keep nursing at a rate you feel comfortable with and supplement with formula to give your body a little break,” Lacey continued with a nonjudgmental practicality and compassion Hope really appreciated. “Which is what I did when my six daughters were young. I found combination feeding was the best of both worlds for me.”
    Lacey paused to let Hope consider.
    “But it’s really up to you, Hope. Both options are perfectly fine. It just depends on what you, as Max’s mother, want to do.”
    That was easy, Hope thought in relief. “I’d like to try the combination.”
    Lacey McCabe stood. “Okay, then how about we set you up with a day’s supply of formula until you can get to the pharmacy or grocery on your own. And in the meantime, Hope?” The pediatrician paused at the exam room door. “Be sure you drink enough fluids, take in enough calories and get plenty of rest. You need to take care of yourself, too.”
    “I second that,” Garrett said, as soon as the nurse and doctor had exited. He stroked Max’s head, paused to look deeply into Hope’s eyes, demonstrating once again what a good father—and husband—he would make someday.
    A thread of wistfulness swept through her.
    “And to that end,” he added gruffly, as her gratitude grew by leaps and bounds, “I’ll do whatever I can to assist you both.”
    * * *
    S HORT MINUTES LATER , Hope watched Max finish the bottle in no time flat.
    “And here I thought he might not like the taste of formula,” she murmured, turning her son upright to give him one last burp.
    Garrett, who had been texting his mom to let her know that Max was okay, put his cell phone back in his pocket. He shook his head fondly at both of them. “You know how it is when you’re really hungry...”
    She warmed at his lazy once-over. However, just because he was being exceptionally kind and considerate did not mean he was auditioning to be the man in her life. “Good point.” Flushing slightly, she put Max down and, while changing his diaper, drew a stabilizing breath and worked to keep up the witty repartee. “When you’re famished, anything tastes good.” And some things, like Garrett’s kiss, were amazingly good...
    She had to stop thinking this way.
    Letting her fatigue, and her current need to lean on someone’s strong shoulder, make more of their temporary friendship than there was.
    Garrett picked up the diaper bag and her purse. Some men would have looked ridiculous carrying both. The contrast only made him look more impossibly masculine. Sea-blue eyes twinkling, he held the door for her and Max. “Well, there are some things I don’t think I’d like, regardless.”
    Hope wondered how much she had really put him out the last few days. Garrett acted as if charging to her rescue—continually—was nothing. She knew better. He had important decisions to make. And only so much military leave. There were also family and friends he probably wanted to spend more time with. Yet he’d remained with her and Max, even though his brother Chance had dropped a Bull Haven Ranch pickup off for him the previous morning.
    “In fact, there are some things I downright loathe.” He chuckled.
    Hope fell into step beside