Local Hero

Radley’s eyes widened. “Honest?”
    “Honest. I was stuck, spinning wheels. After I talked to you that night, I went down and everything fell into place. I appreciate it.”
    “Wow, you’re welcome. You could stay for dinner again. We’re just having Chinese chicken, and maybe I could help you some more. It’s okay, isn’t it, Mom? Isn’t it?”
    Trapped again. And again she caught the gleam of amusement in Mitch’s eyes. “Of course.”
    “Great. I want to go hang this up right away. Can I call Josh, too, and tell him about it? He won’t believe it.”
    “Sure.” She barely had time to run a hand over his hair before he was off and running.
    “Thanks, Mitch.” Radley paused at the turn of the hallway. “Thanks a lot.”
    Hester found the deep side pockets in her sweats and slipped her hands inside. There was absolutely no reason for the man to make her nervous. So why did he? “That was really very kind of you.”
    “Maybe, but I haven’t done anything that’s made me feel that good in a long time.” He wasn’t completely at ease himself, Mitch discovered, and he tucked his thumbs into the back pockets of his jeans. “You work fast,” he commented as he glanced around the living room.
    The boxes were gone. Bright, vivid prints hung on the walls and a vase of flowers, fresh as morning, sat near the window, where sheer curtains filtered the light. Pillows were plumped, furniture gleamed. The only signs of confusion were a miniature car wreck and a few plastic men scattered on the carpet. He was glad to see them. It meant she wasn’t the type who expected the boy to play only in his room.
    “Dali?” He walked over to a lithograph hung over the sofa.
    She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as Mitch studied one of her rare extravagances. “I bought that in a little shop on Fifth that’s always going out of business.”
    “Yeah, I know the one. It didn’t take you long to put things together here.”
    “I wanted everything back to normal as soon as possible. The move wasn’t easy for Radley.”
    “And you?” He turned then, catching her off guard with the sudden sharp look.
    “Me? I—ah . . .”
    “You know,” he began as he crossed over to her, attracted by her simple bafflement. “You’re a lot more articulate when you talk about Rad than you are when you talk about Hester.”
    She stepped back quickly, aware that he would have touched her and totally unsure what her reaction might have been. “I should start dinner.”
    “Want some help?”
    “With what?”
    This time she didn’t move quickly enough. He cupped her chin in his hand and smiled. “With dinner.”
    It had been a long time since a man had touched her that way. He had a strong hand with gentle fingers. That had to be the reason her heart leaped up to her throat and pounded there. “Can you cook?”
    What incredible eyes she had. So clear, so pale a gray they were almost translucent. For the first time in years he felt the urge to paint, just to see if he could bring those eyes to life on canvas. “I make a hell of a peanut butter sandwich.”
    She lifted a hand to his wrist, to move his away, she thought. But her fingers lay there lightly a moment, experimenting. “How are you at chopping vegetables?”
    “I think I can handle it.”
    “All right, then.” She backed up, amazed that she had allowed the contact to go for so long. “I still don’t have any beer, but I do have some wine this time.”
    “Fine.” What the hell were they talking about? Why were they talking at all, when she had a mouth that was made to fit on a man’s? A little baffled by his own train of thought, he followed her into the kitchen.
    “It’s really a simple meal,” she began. “But when it’s all mixed up, Radley hardly notices he’s eating something nutritious. A Twinkie’s the true way to his heart.”
    “My kind of kid.”
    She smiled a little, more relaxed now that she had her hands full. She set celery and mushrooms on the chopping block. “The trick’s in moderation.” Hester took the chicken out, then remembered the wine. “I’m willing to concede to Rad’s sweet tooth in small doses. He’s willing to accept broccoli on the same terms.”
    “Sounds like a wise arrangement.” She opened the wine. Inexpensive, he thought with a glance at the label, but palatable. She filled two glasses, then handed him one. It was silly, but her hands were damp again. It had been some time since she’d shared