A lump formed in Meg’s throat. “Last night I dreamed I saw them in this supermarket. They were laughing and talking with each other when I saw them. I was so happy. But each time I tried to approach them, they kept disappearing down another aisle. For some reason they couldn’t hear me, not even when I called out to them. I woke up crying.”
Tears welled in Meg’s eyes but she brushed them back and threw a couple cans into the cart.
Before she could take off down the aisle, Cole reached over and briefly squeezed her hand. “I’m going to make an executive decision.”
Meg blinked. “I don’t understand.”
He confiscated two cans of spinach from the cart and placed them back on the shelf. “We don’t need these.”
Meg could feel the heat flooding her cheeks. “I can’t believe I did that.”
“Grief makes us do all sorts of crazy things.” Cole shot her an understanding smile.
“I miss her, them, so much,” Meg said with a sigh. “But I’m still thankful.”
Cole maneuvered the cart to the side to let an attractive brunette go past. He didn’t appear to notice the woman’s appraising look and the increased sway of her hips as she sauntered past him. “Thankful for what?”
Her heart cried at the trace of bitterness in his tone.
“Thankful that Janae and Ty were responsible parents who took time to update their will and name us as guardians for their son.” Meg lifted a can of peas from the shelf. When Cole nodded, she dropped the can into the cart. “If they hadn’t, Charlie would have been thrust into the foster care system until the courts had time to decide where he should be placed.”
A shocked look blanketed Cole’s face. “Seriously?”
Meg nodded. “And I’m thankful that Charlie walked away from the crash without a scratch. I saw pictures of the car.” She shuddered. “It’s a miracle anyone made it out of the vehicle alive.”
Cole looked at Meg as if seeing her for the first time.
“Not to mention the improbability of you and I making living together under the same roof work…yet we’re doing it.” She tossed another couple cans into the cart. As far as she was concerned, having them peacefully—at least so far—coexist under the same roof was a miracle.
“You’ve convinced me.” He released his hold on the cart and lifted both hands in a gesture of surrender. “We do have a lot to be thankful for.”
He reached into the cart and pulled out a can. “But seriously, creamed corn?”
Meg confiscated the can from his hand and put it back in the cart. “I happen to love the stuff. If you and Charlie don’t, so sad for you. It’ll just mean more for me.”
Chapter Seven
When Cole’s dad had been alive, they’d attended Sunday services as a family every week. Once he died, everything changed.
If Cole said he missed being at church, he’d be lying. He hadn’t had any use for the place since God had taken the only good thing in his life. His dad had understood Cole’s struggles in school, had supported his pursuit of excellence on the football field. Most of all, his father had loved him unconditionally.
Cole’s mother had seemed more relieved than saddened by her husband’s death from cancer. She’d remarried before the man she’d vowed to love forever was even cold in the ground.
“My mommy said when I make a mean face, it could freeze like that.”
Cole pulled his thoughts back to the present and turned in his seat to face his son sitting in the back. “Was I scowling?”
The child pulled his brows together, narrowed his eyes then pointed to his own face.
“Wow,” Cole said. “If my face froze like that, I’d scare you and Aunt Meg.”
Though her eyes remained focused on the road, Meg chuckled. “After that movie last night, I don’t think I can stand one more scary thing.”
Cole and Charlie exchanged smiles. Meg had closed her eyes when the hunter came after Bambi’s mother. Though Cole would never admit it, he’d found himself hoping Bambi’s mother had gotten away.
“I liked the movie,” Cole said. “Did you like it, Charlie?”
The child had been mostly silent on the car ride into Jackson. “I liked it okay.”
“Is something on your mind, honey?” Meg voiced the question Cole wasn’t sure he should ask.
He knew the boy had been traumatized. While Cole wanted Charlie to know he cared, he didn’t want to force the child to talk about his feelings before he was ready.
“I dunno.” Charlie kicked his foot against the back of the seat.
Cole waited, a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue. Most of the articles he’d read on grief in kids said not to press, to be patient. The trouble was, he’d never been a particularly patient person.
“What’s an orphan?” Charlie asked as Meg pulled into the church parking lot. “At the funeral Tommy Grosscup said I was an orphan, like that was something bad.”
Cole’s heart sank. He glanced at Meg. While he’d learned a great deal reading all those articles, she’d had real-life experience raising her siblings.
“An orphan,” Meg said softly, “is someone who doesn’t have any parents. I’m an orphan because I lost both my mom and dad. Uncle Cole isn’t an orphan because his mother is still living.”
“So I was an orphan,” Charlie said, “but I’m not anymore.”
Once again, Cole forced his mouth to remain shut. Meg simply smiled, projecting an air of calm acceptance that Cole envied.
“That’s right,” she said after a long moment. “You’re not an orphan because—”
“I have you and Uncle Cole for my mommy and daddy,” Charlie said as if the answer was obvious.
A tightness filled Cole’s chest and he saw Meg blink back tears.
Ryan had been right. Charlie needed a father and a mother during this difficult time.
Though Meg wouldn’t be around forever, for the first time Cole was grateful she was here now. Once she was gone Cole would start seriously looking for a woman who’d be a wife to him and a mother to his son.
A friend. A lover. Most important, a woman he could trust.
Meg slowed her steps as she and Cole approached the front door of The Coffee Pot. “Travis said they usually commandeer a big table at the back of the place.”
Cole had run into Meg’s brother several times when he’d been in Jackson Hole visiting Janae and Ty. He knew Travis from high school football and they’d always gotten along. But in the ensuing years, whenever he’d spoken with the young doctor, there had been a decided coolness to their interaction.
While Cole had never mentioned his relationship with Meg to any of the guys on the football team—and he’d kept their breakup to himself, as well—he had the feeling Meg had given her brother an earful. And a one-sided earful if Travis’s response was any indication.
Suddenly, the thought of breakfast with her relatives and her friends held little appeal.
“Why don’t you go in, spend time with your brother.” Cole glanced down the almost-deserted sidewalk. Because of the brisk north wind, once people got out of their vehicles, they didn’t loiter but headed straight inside. “I’m going to take a little walk.”