Baby, Come Home by Stephanie Bond

herself. She’d done some things she wasn’t proud of when she was a teenager and had had her share of run-ins with authority. She and Kendall had argued over her penchant for trouble and occasionally taking things that weren’t hers. It was, she’d decided, why he hadn’t asked her to marry him. Like everyone else in town, he’d considered her tainted. Part of her was afraid that if she called Kendall for help with their son, he would accuse her of being a bad mother…a bad person.
    Dropping Tony off at the school after the holidays was the hardest thing she’d ever done. In that instant, he wasn’t a tall, troubled adolescent on the verge of manhood—he was her little boy on his first day of preschool begging her with his eyes not to leave him. She’d cried all the way home. Tony had performed and behaved well enough at the school to earn cell phone privileges, but she knew, from his increasingly short and quiet conversations, that all wasn’t as fine as it seemed.
    Her heart squeezed. She missed him so much it hurt. Their little house in Broadway had seemed big and empty without his clutter and the chatter of his soccer friends and the sound effects of his video games. He was basically a good kid. Bright, too—he was always near the top of the class, had excelled in math and taken home ribbons in science fairs. Schoolwork came to him more easily than it had to her at that age. Even though she had controlled the nurturing part of his development, there was no denying that when it came to nature, he was his father’s son.
    Except for the getting arrested part…
    Amy crested the top of the hill where she’d parked yesterday to find Kendall already there, sitting sideways on an ATV, drinking from a travel mug. Seeing him after being so deeply mired in thought about him and the son he wasn’t aware of made her nervous. She suspected that Marcus knew about Tony, and while he’d respected her privacy thus far, she had a feeling the clock was ticking on that matter.
    Amy tried to school her face into a neutral expression as she parked the four-wheeler nearby, but she was still smarting over the fact that he’d knocked on her door after a make-out session with curvy Rachel Hutchins. Years ago, he’d wanted to put Amy on a shelf while he went out into the world, taking for granted that she would always be there, waiting. Or maybe he was hoping she’d just take the hint and move on. That was partly her fault, she acknowledged, for idolizing the man, for being grateful that he’d allowed a poor little girl from the wrong side of the tracks into his life. Of course, he would assume that since she’d come back to Sweetness, she was still hung up on him, and would accept whatever attention he had to spare for the time she was here.
    Wrong.
    When she cut the engine, he waved. “Good morning.”
    He looked so good dressed in dark jeans, sturdy boots and a gray sweater. By comparison she felt like a lumberjack in her fleece hoodie and wool pants tucked into knee-waders. “Good morning,” she said through gritted teeth. “I distinctly remember saying you didn’t have to be here.”
    He gave her a disarming smile. “I’m here to learn. Besides, this project means a lot to me, too.”
    Too … There he went assuming again. “I prefer to work alone when I’m in the design stage.”
    He made a zipping motion across his mouth. “You won’t even know I’m here.”
    “Suit yourself.” She climbed off the ATV and opened the storage compartment to remove her heavy-duty laptop built to withstand the elements, and another small bag of equipment.
    “Can I carry something?” he asked.
    “Nope.” Amy shouldered the bags and turned toward the bridge site. Kendall followed her, staying a few steps behind. When she reached the top of the hill overlooking the site, she glanced down at the rushing stream of Timber Creek. The water was crystal clear and at this spot, about waist high. From this vantage point, remains of