Local Hero

lifted a hand to her cheek. The pale gray of her irises deepened. Her skin warmed. Hester backed away quickly.
    “I’d better go. I’m sure they’ll want hot chocolate when they get back in.”
    “They have to bring Taz back here first,” Mitch reminded her. “Take a break, Hester. Want some coffee?”
    “Well, I—”
    “Good. Sit down and I’ll get it.”
    Hester stood in the center of the room a moment, a bit amazed at how smoothly he ran things—his way. She was much too used to setting her own rules to accept anyone else’s. Still, she told herself it would be rude to leave, that her son would be back soon and that the least she could do after Mitch had been so good to the boy was bear his company for a little while.
    She would have been lying if she’d denied that he interested her. In a casual way, of course. There was something about the way he looked at her, so deep and penetrating, while at the same time he appeared to take most of life as a joke. Yet there was nothing funny about the way he touched her.
    Hester lifted fingertips to her cheek, where his had been. She would have to take care to avoid too much of that sort of contact. Perhaps, with effort, she could think of Mitch as a friend, as Radley did already. It might not sit well with her to be obliged to him, but she could swallow that. She’d swallowed worse.
    He was kind. She let out a little breath as she tried to relax. Experience had given her a very sensitive antenna. She could recognize the kind of man who tried to ingratiate himself with the child to get to the mother. If she was sure of anything, it was that Mitch genuinely liked Radley. That, if nothing else, was a point in his favor.
    But she wished he hadn’t touched her that way, looked at her that way, made her feel that way.
    “It’s hot. Probably lousy, but hot.” Mitch walked in with two mugs. “Don’t you want to sit down?”
    Hester smiled at him. “Where?”
    Mitch set the mugs down on a stack of papers, then pushed magazines from the sofa. “Here.”
    “You know . . .” She stepped over a stack of old newspapers. “Radley’s very good at tidying. He’d be glad to help you.”
    “I function best in controlled confusion.”
    Hester joined him on the sofa. “I can see the confusion but not the controlled.”
    “It’s here, believe me. I didn’t ask if you wanted anything in the coffee, so I brought it black.”
    “Black’s fine. This table—it’s Queen Anne, isn’t it?”
    “Yeah.” Mitch set his bare feet on it, then crossed them at the ankles. “You’ve got a good eye.”
    “One would have to under the circumstances.” Because he laughed, she smiled as she took her first sip. “I’ve always loved antiques. I suppose it’s the endurance. Not many things last.”
    “Sure they do. I once had a cold that lasted six weeks.” He settled back as she laughed. “When you do that, you get a dimple at the corner of your mouth. Cute.”
    Hester was immediately self-conscious again. “You have a very natural way with children. Did you come from a large family?”
    “No. Only child.” He continued to study her, curious about her reaction to the most casual of compliments.
    “Really? I wouldn’t have guessed it.”
    “Don’t tell me you’re of the school who believes only a woman can relate to children?”
    “No, not really,” she hedged, because that had been her experience thus far. “It’s just that you’re particularly good with them. No children of your own?” The question came out quickly, amazing and embarrassing her.
    “No. I guess I’ve been too busy being a kid myself to think about raising any.”
    “That hardly makes you unusual,” she said coolly.
    He tilted his head as he studied her. “Tossing me in with Rad’s father, Hester?”
    Something flashed in her eyes. Mitch shook his head as he sipped again. “Damn, Hester, what did the bastard do to you?” She froze instantly. Mitch was quicker. Even as she started to rise, he put a restraining hand on her arm. “Okay, hands off that one until you’re ready. I apologize if I hit a sore spot, but I’m curious. I’ve spent a couple of evenings with Rad now, and he’s never mentioned his father.”
    “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t ask him any questions.”
    “Fine.” Mitch was capable of being just as snotty. “I didn’t intend to grill the kid.”
    Hester was tempted to get up and excuse herself. That would be the easiest way. But the fact was that