“Has he?” Billy asked, his gaze narrowed.
“Are you asking my personal opinion or my professional opinion?”
“Has he bonded enough with me for him to not suffer when you leave?”
She winced. “I can’t answer that.”
“Why not?”
“Because—” She broke off, swallowed hard. “In general, babies less than six months old adjust better to a loss of a primary adult than babies who are older. As long as Beck’s needs are met, he should ultimately thrive.”
“Why was that so hard to say?”
She shrugged uncomfortably. “It’ll be an adjustment though. Babies don’t understand the concept of time, so he might be upset by my absence. Initially.” She couldn’t stand this conversation. She didn’t even want to be in this house anymore. “I’m thinking of heading into town to go shopping. Need diapers, wipes, maybe a few outfits. Just something comfy for the day as he’s getting big.”
“We can go to Bryce.”
“Sam had mentioned I’d find basics there.” She hesitated. “But you don’t have to go. Beck and I can make the drive together.”
“You don’t know your way.”
“I have GPS on my phone.”
“I’ll drive you.”
“Billy.”
“Yes, Erika?”
She looked away, counted to ten. “Don’t you think we need some time apart?”
“I think what we need is fresh air. We have cabin fever. And I have just the remedy for that.”
She watched him turn the water back on and rinse the skillet he’d been washing earlier. “Where will we go?”
“You’ll see,” he answered, setting the skillet on the counter.
“How should I dress?”
“In clothes.” He grinned. “Unless you’d rather not?”
“Are you having fun?”
“I am.”
He was, too. She could hear it in his voice, see it in his eyes. He was in a good mood and enjoying teasing her. “I probably will wear clothes. It’s a bit brisk out there.”
“Alright then, since you’re determined to wear clothes, put on something comfortable, something with layers, and shoes you can walk in.”
Sounded like they’d be getting some exercise. Good. She needed it. “And Beck?”
“Layers for sure, but I’m not sure he’s ready to do much walking.”
“You haven’t bought him cowboy boots yet? I’m shocked.”
Billy’s lips quirked and his blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “Who said I haven’t bought him boots? Maybe you just haven’t seen them.”
They left the house twenty minutes later, with the baby carrier, a full diaper bag, and lots of formula.
Billy’s window was halfway down and the air blew through the truck, crisp and invigorating. Even as dazzling spring sunshine blinded them, Erika didn’t ask where they were going, content to let Billy drive, and he did, traveling the single lane highway through a narrow valley, next to a river that bordered pastures where herds of cattle and bison grazed. She leaned on her door, soaking up the scenery, thinking it was nice to be a passenger and just sit back and relax. Not that she could relax too long. After their drive, she had to get back to work. Needed to find a way to focus again.
The distant pink mountains grew more weathered and impressive as they approached. Gradually, the rugged pink stone turned into striking red rocks, reminding Erika of Thunder Mountain at Disneyland. The rock formations were stunning and she leaned out her window taking pictures of them, begging Billy to slow down so she could get yet another photo.
*
Billy was amused by her enthusiasm. Over the years, he’d taken family and friends out to see Bryce, but his friends were unexpressive dudes who undoubtedly enjoyed the scenery but didn’t communicate this awe and wonder. He rather liked her awe and wonder and slowed to a crawl at her request so she could snap a photo of the massive red rock they were about to drive through.
“What are you going to do with all these photos?” he asked.
She caught her hair in her hand to keep it from blowing everywhere, and yet long golden tendrils still danced around her face, clinging to her lashes. “Look at them. Remember how beautiful it is.”
He shot her an appreciative glance. She was beautiful. A fresh, natural beauty. “Wait until you see Bryce Canyon. You’ll love it. We’re going to do an easy trail, nothing too demanding since you’ll have Beck and I have myself.”
She laughed, the sound bubbly and buoyant. “I’d rather carry Beck than you,” she said. “You’d be a smidge too heavy.”
He looked at her again, thinking she was glowing, her eyes—that unusual turquoise blue green—bright, her lips curved. She reminded him of a cowgirl. Strong, smart, full of heart. Erika had a country vibe, even if she didn’t know it.
She was everything he liked, everything he could want in a woman. Without wanting to, he’d developed feelings for her. She was on his mind more often than not lately. Unfortunately, what he wanted to do with her was more wicked than sweet. He wanted her and being alone with her in the house only made the desire stronger.
He liked her in his house, though, and didn’t want to think about the day she wouldn’t be there anymore.
She’d made his place cozy. Homey. And it had never been that before. It was a cabin. Practical. Rustic. Undemanding. It was always there when he needed it and nobody fussed when he left.
But it felt different with a baby and a woman in it. It was as if it had become a family home and it was strange and yet rather wonderful at the same time. He hadn’t thought he’d want, or need, a homey place, but he’d grown accustomed to having company. He liked waking up and finding Erika in the kitchen, or seeing her curled up in a chair, reading. He liked the way she’d look up at him and smile. He liked the sound of her voice and the way she sang even though she didn’t carry a tune, and somehow the fact that she liked to sing and hum, even though she wasn’t a talented singer, made him enjoy it even more. She wasn’t perfect, and she wasn’t pretending to be perfect. She was just herself, and that was what made her special. She was who she was, and in his mind, she was exactly right, and exactly who she was meant to be.
“How are you coming with your dissertation?” he asked, drawing his wallet from his back pocket and he approached the park entrance. “Getting all that writing down?”
She hesitated. “I guess.”
He flashed his annual park membership card at the park ranger and was waved in. “That doesn’t sound very convincing.”
“I’m making some progress. Maybe not quite as much as I’d hoped.”
“I can hire a sitter. Boom’s mom, Ellen, would love regular work.”
“That just doesn’t seem right.”
“What doesn’t seem right is you not completing something you’ve spent years working on.”
“I’m not giving up on it, but it doesn’t feel as important as everything else happening right now.”
He wasn’t that easily placated. “But it is important. It’s incredibly important. This is your degree, your career—”