As much as she wanted to turn around and watch Robert with her son, Lily didn’t dare. She wasn’t sure what the sight of them together would do to her, what it would do to her heart.
For a full minute she stared straight ahead, listening, longing for something elusive, yet as vital as the air she breathed. When the curiosity got to be too much, she tilted her head slightly and stole a peek at man and baby. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jack pounding his spoon against his high chair tray. Robert was squatting in front of him, making silly faces. He said something in a voice that sounded amazingly like Bugs Bunny, and Jack giggled.
The sound of her son’s laughter tore a hole clean through her heart. The pain was so sharp she had to close her eyes. Taking a deep, calming breath, she finished making the oatmeal and struggled to get herself under control. She couldn’t afford to let Robert know her feelings. One wrong word to him, and he would discover her secret. She knew he wasn’t the kind of man to let something like that go. He would want to do the honorable thing. Dear God, she couldn’t let that happen. Not when doing the honorable thing could end up getting him killed.
“Something smells good.”
“Oatmeal.” Realizing she was stirring the oatmeal into glue, she set the spoon aside and turned to face Robert. Amusement rippled through her when she found him and her son embroiled in a game of catch with the kitchen towel. Of course, Jack was now a lot more interested in the towel than his breakfast.
“He’s a pretty good catcher, too,” Robert said.
“Scouts will be out looking for him soon.” Smiling, she eased the towel from Jack’s chubby fingers. “But right now he needs to eat his breakfast.”
Robert turned a sympathetic look at Jack. “Sorry, pal.”
Jack squealed and reached for the towel. “Gah!”
“Yeah, I know, I know,” Robert said. “Oatmeal before that no-hitter.”
Lily watched them and swore she wasn’t going to let the moment get to her. “We don’t have any sugar here in Rebelia, so I added a little cinnamon.”
“That’s fine.” Watching her carefully, he took the bowl from her and began to eat.
Shaken more than she wanted to admit, Lily started toward Jack. The mangled piece of toast sat on the counter, so she snagged the baby’s bottle of goat’s milk and set to work releasing him from the high chair.
“He’s already trying to talk,” Robert said.
Lily closed her eyes and told herself her son’s first word wasn’t something she’d fantasized about sharing with Robert. “He said ‘toast’ this morning.”
“Right before he chucked it across the room.”
“You should have seen the hard-boiled egg yesterday morning.”
“Line drive, huh?”
“Home run.”
Smiling in spite of herself, she pressed a kiss to Jack’s forehead, wishing her nerves would settle. She pulled him from the chair then held him close for a moment, taking in his sweet baby scent. For an instant she found herself wishing he would stay little forever so she could hold him just like this and keep him safe.
Aware that Robert was watching them, she carried Jack to the sink, wetted a fresh towel and wiped at the ring of jelly around his mouth.
“Whenever you can work in some time with me, I’d like to talk to you,” he said.
Her pulse spiked. “Robert—”
“About DeBruzkya,” he clarified.
“Oh.” She flushed, realizing she’d misunderstood and overreacted. “Let me put Jack down for a nap.”
Lily carried her son to her bedroom at the rear of the cottage and laid him in the crib. When he fussed, she offered him the bottle of milk. “Oh, you’re a fussy one this morning, aren’t you?”
She held the bottle while he suckled. For several long minutes he watched her with innocent blue eyes. When his lids grew heavy, she propped the bottle on a pillow and began to gently rock his crib. Humming an old Rebelian lullaby, she lost herself in the beauty of watching her son sleep. Such a small moment in time and yet so profound. The sight of him safe and warm in his crib touched her as nothing else in the world could. And she loved him so much it hurt just to look at him.
“Sleep tight, sweet baby,” she whispered.
Bending, she pulled the blankets up to his pudgy chin, then set the bottle on the dresser. Taking a deep breath, she left the bedroom, leaving the door open so she would hear him if he woke. She found Robert standing at the window in the living area, staring out at the winter-dead forest. The earlier sunshine had given way to clouds, and the cottage had grown chilly. He looked at her when she entered the room, but he didn’t smile. Lily felt the rise of tension like a physical touch.
“It was getting colder, so I closed the window in the kitchen,” he said.
“Thank you. It was nice this morning, but it looks like rain for this afternoon.”
“I’d forgotten how late spring comes to Rebelia,” he said.