Out of the Depths

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

“MR. BRENNAN?”

A soft voice and a tentative shake woke Chance with a start. His eyes flew open and focused on Alice’s concerned face hovering over him.

“Mr. Brennan, Rick Warren is here to see you.”

Rick wanted to discuss last night’s scene? God, he hoped not. Chance ran his hand vigorously over his face and through his hair a couple of times. “Thanks, Alice. Give me five minutes, then you can send him in.”

He rushed to his bathroom, splashed cold water on his face and brushed his teeth. His reflection showed a man badly in need of a shave, but that would have to wait.

When he exited the bathroom, Rick was already seated in one of the chairs by his desk. He rose and extended his hand. “Good morning, Chance.”

“Morning, Rick.” Chance gave a lopsided grin. “You’ll have to excuse my slovenly appearance.”

Rick answered with a wary smile. “Tough night, huh?”

“Yeah.” Chance massaged the back of his neck as he sat down, grimacing at the muscles that felt like iron bands. “What brings you here on Christmas Eve?”

“Well, I was going to call you later, but I happened by and saw your car. First, I want to apologize for my and Denise’s part in last night’s fiasco. I hadn’t told her about the pregnancy yet, so she had no idea—”

“Please don’t apologize. It was no one’s fault but my own.” Brain still sluggish with fatigue, Chance didn’t want to talk about last night with anyone but Kyndal. He did a quick visual scan, searching for something —anything—he could switch the topic to. He pointed at the magazine in Rick’s hand, recognizing it as Kyndal’s edition of Kentucky Wonders. “Kyn’s photos are amazing, aren’t they?”

Rick nodded, his smile losing its wary edge. “You have no idea how amazing.” He flipped the magazine open to a dog-eared page and pointed to one of the bat pictures. “The bats in your cave, Chance—they’re Myotis sodalis, commonly known as Indiana bats.” The excitement in his voice was palpable. “That’s a highly endangered species.”

Chance studied the close-up of the tiny creature flying directly into the camera and shifted in his seat as the memory of holding Kyndal assaulted his senses.

“That means the Department of Wildlife will take whatever steps are necessary to protect them.”

“‘Whatever steps are necessary’?” Chance didn’t like the sound of that. “Are you saying they’ll take my cave away from me?”

“No, nothing like that.” Rick stood up as Alice brought in a tray with coffee and some Christmas cookies.

The gentlemanly action caught Chance off guard. He rose to his feet sheepishly and thanked her.

As they fixed their coffee Chance urged Rick to continue, anxious to hear more.

“The bats could die if they’re disturbed during hibernation.” Rick picked up where he’d left off. “The best way we’ve found to keep them from being disturbed is to keep everything out of the caves where they hibernate, and the best method we’ve found for doing that is a custom-made chain guard.”

Chance still wasn’t sure where this conversation was headed. “Go on.”

“The guard is fitted and permanently attached to the entrance with locks at the bottom. As the owner, you’d have the key, of course. The guard can be unlocked and rolled up during the months the bats aren’t hibernating, but when they start settling in, it has to stay down. It’s designed of small squares so they can move through either way, but it keeps predators, and people, out.”

The possibility of securing the cave brought Chance a surge of hope. “Could it stay down all the time? I’ve had a lot of trouble with vandalism.”

“Yeah. Kyndal told me.”

Chance flinched inwardly at Rick’s mention of her name. Damn, he wanted to see her.

Rick seemed not to notice, caught up in the excitement of what he was saying. “Keeping it down except for when you want to go in wouldn’t be a problem. As far as the vandalism, the department will deal with that. Causing harm to an endangered species carries a hefty fine and sometimes imprisonment. There’ll be signs posted and cameras installed. And vandalizing one of the cameras would be a big mistake for anybody, too.”

Chance’s gut twisted with guilt. So Kyndal’s photos—the ones he’d blamed her for publishing—were actually going to be what saved the cave. He was losing count of the number of apologies he owed her. What an ass I’ve been. He turned another page of the magazine to a photo of the crystal vug in all its splendor. And what a woman she is. He sighed and shook his head at the twist in fate this Christmas Eve morning had brought him. “You’ve given me some fabulous news, Rick.”

“Well, I’m glad I could do something to make up a little bit for the horrible position I put y’all in last night.” Rick shook his head, his chin buckling. “I still can’t believe it was Senator Donovan who kept Kyndal from getting that job.”

“What?” Chance leaned over his desk, feeling alert for the first time since Alice shook him awake.

“Yeah. I talked to Jaci this morning. Kyndal told her the whole story last night after…well, you know.” Rick sipped his coffee before continuing. “Kyndal was the first choice for the magazine job, but somebody called in a favor with Donovan, and he had the job handed to somebody else.”

Oh, hell…surely not. His dad and the senator had been together a lot lately securing Rick’s new position. Chance laid the cookie in his hand back on his plate as his stomach gave a sickening lurch.

“I feel awful about making a big deal to his daughter about my gratitude. Hell-pee-roo. Can you imagine how that made Kyndal feel? The irony must have stung something terrible, poor kid. But she kept her poise, didn’t she? Didn’t say anything. Just excused herself. She’s got a lot of class, that one.”

His revelation pounded at Chance’s brain. He grabbed the tennis ball from his desk and started to squeeze. “Yes, she does,” he agreed. “More class and spunk and grit than any woman I’ve ever known.”

“You’ve got it.” Rick took a long drink of his coffee, and then set the cup and saucer to the side and folded his napkin. “Well, I’ve got Christmas shopping to finish, so I’d better get out of here.”

The proper action as a host would have been to protest and act like he wanted some more friendly chat, but Chance was chomping at the bit to confront his dad. He stood, relieved to see Rick pick up his magazine and make a move toward the door. “Don’t buy anything for me, Rick.” He forced a jovial laugh. “You’ve given me a great present already.”

They exchanged a heartfelt handshake. “Merry Christmas, Chance.”

“Merry Christmas, Rick.” Chance clapped him on the back in parting. “Give Denise a hug for me.”

As soon as his friend was out the door, Chance headed straight for his dad’s office, charging in without bothering to knock. “Tell me you didn’t sabotage Kyndal on the magazine job.” He slammed the door behind him.

Bill Brennan looked up, startled. He dropped his eyes back to the legal pad he was writing on. “I didn’t sabotage Kyndal on the magazine job.”

Chance placed his hands flat on the desk and leaned over so their heads were on the same level. “Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t sabotage Kyndal on the magazine job.”

His dad threw down his pen, raising his eyes to meet Chance’s. “Now maybe she’ll leave town.”

So it was true. Chance knew it but up until the admission he’d held a flicker of hope. Now he could sense the inferno behind that flicker about to explode. “Oh, she’s leaving.” He flared his nostrils to get more air. “She’s taken a job in St. Louis.”

“Good. Then it’s for the best.” His dad picked up the pen as if he was finished talking and started scribbling again.

“Seriously?” Chance whisked the legal pad out from under the pen and tossed it into the chair beside him. “You take a young woman who’s an amazing photographer and the best qualified for the job, who happens to be pregnant with your grandchild and you work against her?” He modulated his volume. “You jerk a job out of her hands by calling in a favor after she risked her life to get it? And then you sit back and say ‘It’s for the best’? Is that really your answer?”

“You’re damn straight it’s my answer.” His dad’s voice raised a few decibels. “It’s my answer when I’m watching my only son talk himself into a mistake he’ll regret the rest of his life.”

Chance slammed his palm down on the pile of papers. “It’s not a ‘mistake.’ It’s a baby. My baby.”

“It’s a baby that will tie you to the wrong woman and that’s a mistake that’ll affect your career. A career I’ve busted my ass to build. A career I’ve spent hundreds of thousands to make possible with your Harvard education and this practice.” Bill Brennan rose to his feet, his eyes only inches from his son’s. “You think money’s not important? You think all this—” he waved his arms around the room “—just happens? You think that judgeship you have your eye on will just happen?”

“I want the judgeship so people like Kyndal will get a fair shake. Right now, they don’t stand a chance because people like you keep them down and they don’t have the power to fight back.” Chance was too angry to mince words. “The truck driver with Hank’s case… Judge Salter crucified him and you sat back and let him, knowing it wasn’t that poor guy’s fault. Salter closed his eyes to justice because of you and your damn connections.”

Hank’s case had never been allowed as a topic of discussion, and this time was no different. “You’re nothing without the right connections. I’ve always tried to tell you, it’s not what you know, but who you know.” His dad’s eyes hardened, but for the first time, Chance could see behind them into the workings of his mind. “Kyndal…she’s not what you want in your life. She’s never had a pot to piss in or one to throw it out of, and she never will.”

Chance broke into a sweat. He pulled the sweater over his head and hurled it at the door. “She has more ambition than both of us put together. How many teenagers do you know who would get themselves out of bed and to school if their parents weren’t home to make them? Kyn did, and was valedictorian. She takes care of herself, takes any job she can just to make ends meet and works her ass off.” The truth in what he was saying hit him like a fist to his gut. He spread his arms, indicating the costly office, the expensive furniture. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever had and ever needed.” He leaned forward on the desk again, and lowered his voice. “Nobody’s ever given her anything—including a fair shake.”

“People make their own destiny. That girl made hers when she spread her legs for you.”

Chance stood to his full height and thrust a finger toward his dad’s face. “Shut up, damn it!” He’d never yelled at his dad before. This was a new experience for both of them. He watched his dad’s mouth close. “She’s not ‘that girl’ and she’s not ‘the wrong woman.’ She’s the woman I love, and I won’t have you talk about her like she’s some kind of whore. She’s carrying my baby, and I hope to make her my wife. That’s right, Dad! I intend to propose to her as many times as it takes to get her to accept…and that may be a lot considering how we’ve hurt her.”

“Be reasonable. Think about what you’re saying, Hank.”

The name barreled through Chance like a windstorm, sweeping away the last of his self-control. “I’m. Not. Hank!” He roared the words he’d wanted to say for ten years, punctuating them by punching his chest with his finger. “I’m Chance. Hank is dead, Dad. He’s gone forever, and he’s never coming back. I can’t be him for you. I can only be me. You’ve got to decide once and for all if that’s going to be good enough for you because I can’t be both of us anymore.”

Bill Brennan felt for the chair behind him and lowered himself into it as Chance continued. “And you’d better decide quickly because if you don’t think you can fit my wife and baby into your scheme of things, I’ll be leaving this firm to go out on my own.”

Chance had to make him understand, so he laid it out as clearly as he could. “If you can’t accept Kyndal, Dad, then you’ll not only have lost Hank. You’ll lose me, too, and you’ll lose your grandchildren.” He gathered up his sweater. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll give you some time to think about what I’ve just told you. I have some last-minute Christmas shopping to do, and then I’m going to try and convince the woman I love more than life itself to spend the rest of her days with me.”

Bill Brennan sat silently.

Chance walked out, having had the last word with his dad for the first time ever.

* * *

WHEN HER PHONE RANG THAT morning, Jaci didn’t bother to look at the call display. The business was closed for the long holiday weekend, and, surely, no one would have a decorating crisis that required attention on December 24th. She’d already spoken with Kyndal—twice—so that only left one probability.

“Hey, Mom,” she answered.

“Not yet.” Erlene Moore’s laugh came over the line. “Still hanging in there, though.”

Jaci joined her laughter. “Sorry, Erlene.”

“No problem. Hey, I won’t keep you long. Just a quick question.”

“Sure. Whatcha need?”

“A kitten?” Erlene’s voice lowered to almost a whisper. “Cody’s been talking about the kittens since you were here that day, and we just decided this morning to get one for his stocking. Are yours available for adoption?”

“I…um.” Jaci’s heart thudded so hard she felt it in her stomach. “I don’t know. I mean…we haven’t talked about it.”

“I know how attached you are, but we would give it a good home. We have plenty of space. And we’re all animal lovers.”

Jaci’s knees went weak, and she slid into the nearest chair. She should have known that this time would come. She just hadn’t allowed herself to think about it.

Bart came into the kitchen. His eyes met hers and widened with concern. “What’s wrong?” he mouthed.

“Can you hold a minute, Erlene? Bart just came in. Let me see what he thinks.” Jaci covered the receiver with a shaking hand. “It’s Erlene Moore. She wants a kitten for Cody’s stocking.”

Bart’s eyes went even wider. “One of ours? Have you lost your mind?”

Relief flooded through her. She quickly spoke back into the phone. “We’re too attached to give either of them up, Erlene. But my friend Kyndal works at Pet Me. I know they have several kittens there who need a good home.”

“Okay. We’ll try there. Thanks, Jaci.”

She was gone before Jaci could say goodbye.

Bart moved toward her slowly, with a smile that was both wicked and sweet. “That would be like giving away our firstborn.”

Jaci laughed at his words that echoed her own thoughts. She stood up to meet him, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.” Tears of joy warmed her cheeks, and she became aware of tiny paws with playful claws swiping at the hem of her pajama bottoms.

She reached down to scoop up Arwen just as Bart did the same with Gandalf. They bumped heads lightly and laughed at their clumsiness.

She held the little female out to him. “Merry Christmas, Mr. Thomas.”

Bart took the black fur ball and offered her Gandalf the Gray, in return. “And Merry Christmas to you, too, love.”

Then he kissed her, and his kiss left no doubt it was going to be a Merry Christmas, indeed.

* * *

DECEMBER 24 AND KYNDAL couldn’t imagine that this many people still had shopping to do. She’d finished weeks ago, but, of course, she only had three presents to buy. The line of people waiting to get their pet’s photo with Santa had been short but steady all morning, which was good because it kept her mind off the events of last night.

At the moment, she was pondering if she might’ve died and gone to purgatory somewhere between home and the store. The terrified look on Santa Howard’s face reminded her of Michelangelo’s depiction of lost souls. He definitely had that look that he might bolt, and she wouldn’t blame him if he did.

Howard’s white knuckles gripped the chair arm, and she sensed he was determining whether to swat or not to swat. Her skin crawled each time the horrid thing moved, inching its way slowly up Howard’s arm. Why would anyone in his right mind have a freakin’ tarantula for a pet? And why in the world would he want its picture with Santa Claus?

She aimed the camera, closed her eyes and fired off four shots. A quick peek showed she had the image. She let out her breath and announced, “Done.” A trickle of sweat ran between her breasts.

Only Mandy seemed unfazed by the ordeal. She took the print as it came out of the printer and slid it into the Christmas card frame, attaching the receipt. “You pay for this at checkout,” she instructed the tarantula’s owner who was making cooing sounds toward the cage. Mandy then turned her attention to Kyndal with an annoyed sigh. “Okay, I’m outta here. I’m twenty-three minutes past break now.”

The store manager’s voice came over the loud speaker. “Kyndal Rawlings, please come to the manager’s office. Kyndal Rawlings, come to the manager’s office, please.”

Mandy’s growl brought a smile to Kyndal’s lips. She shrugged. “Sorry.” But she really wasn’t. Her smile broadened when she caught herself humming “Jingle Bells” along with the music coming over the loud speakers.

The manager’s office was a small glassed-in enclosure at the front of the store. She hurried that direction until the office came into view and then her steps slowed. Chance. In the office chatting with the owner. Her heart flip-flopped before bouncing into that quick rhythm it always hit when he was near.

Why was he there? If he expected her to pay for his ruined suit, she would remind him what happened was his fault. She’d warned him.

She jerked the door open and stepped into the small space, ready to field whichever ball he threw her way.

“Kyndal.” His eyes looked tired as they took her in, and he was unshaven, which made his features even darker and more brooding. But he smiled that infuriatingly, gorgeous smile, and instantly her brain went fuzzy.

“I’ll leave you two alone.” Nancy hustled out, and her absence seemed to make the walls close in tighter.

Kyndal didn’t trust the look in his eye…or the way his presence seemed to engulf her space. “What do you want, Chance?” She tapped her foot in annoyance. The tinkling bell on the tip of her toe ruined the desired effect. She watched one side of Chance’s full mouth lift, so she stopped tapping and crossed her arms instead.

His expression turned serious. “I just found out Dad worked against you on the magazine job, and I came to apologize, Kyn. I know how hard you worked, and how much you wanted that job. I’m sorry you were treated so unfairly.” The contrition in his voice sounded sincere.

Kyndal remained outwardly cool, despite the mixed emotions swarming through her body. “If you want me to say it’s okay, you’re in for a long wait, Counselor. I was treated unfairly. But I’ll survive.” She placed her hand on the door handle. “I have clients waiting. Thanks for the apology.”

“Wait!” In two strides, Chance stood beside her, his hand covering hers, holding the door closed. His familiar scent mixed with the cold from his clothes, filling the space between them and depriving her of air. She pulled her hand from the door and stepped away to gain some distance from him. “There’s more I want to say. I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you.” His deep voice hummed with emotion. “The truth is…” He hesitated, ran his hand through his hair. “I love you, Kyndal.” His words gave her a claustrophobic feeling. She breathed deeply, fighting for her share of the oxygen in the tiny space.

His eyes held hers as he went on. “I love you, but I’ve been afraid to love you. I’ve snubbed you, thinking you weren’t good enough to have a part in my dreams.”

A flash of anger tore through Kyndal, hearing the truth spoken so brazenly. She opened her mouth to speak, but her breath sputtered to a stop when Chance took a step toward her.

“But I know now that I don’t have any dreams without you.”

Sweet words, but they didn’t change anything. “Your dad has enough for both of you,” she assured him. “And I’m not in any of his.”

His full lips pressed into a thin line. “Dad and I had a meeting of the minds this morning. I’m never going to be the kind of man he wants me to be, thank God. I’ve got some changing to do, but Dad’s got more if he wants to remain in my life—and in his grandchild’s life.”

Kyndal’s heart softened at the mention of the baby. Chance must have sensed the weakness because he stepped near enough to brush a finger down her arm, leaving a tremor of emotion in its wake.

“I want us to be a family, Kyn. You, me and the baby.”

Kyndal squeezed her eyes closed. She wanted to believe him, but she’d believed him before. She opened her eyes and looked at him through her blurred vision. He’d been brutally honest; she could be, too. “I’m tired of trying to be what other people want and always falling short. I can only be who I am.” She tapped her chest with the tip of her finger. “I have fears, too, Chance. Fears of not fitting into your life. Fears of trusting you. And fears of driving you away.” He reached out to her, but she moved out of his reach, far enough away to not be swayed his touch. “I don’t know how to love without clinging,” she admitted. “And when I cling—and I would if we were together—you wouldn’t be able to breathe, and then you’d leave just like before. Nothing’s changed, Chance. It’s never going to work.”

She understood Chance’s feelings of suffocation then because suddenly she was in a vacuum, and all the air in the room was being sucked out. She needed air. She pushed past him, through the door, and out into the front of the store.

“Kyndal! Stop right there.” His authoritative voice boomed out behind her. “We’re not finished. Don’t you dare take another step away from me.”

She stopped and turned to face him. In fact, everyone in the store stopped and turned to face him. The lines at the cash registers went silent. The only sound was the combined voices of Alvin and the Chipmunks singing “The Christmas Song.”

Chance’s voice grew loud as if he wanted everyone to hear him. “It’s true, Kyndal. I left you when I was eighteen years old. But I only left you physically. My heart never left. It’s been with you—and only you—since the day we met. That’s clinging. Love is clinging. Clinging together forever. Never letting go. Never leaving. And you don’t have to worry about fitting into my world. You are my world.”

Kyndal could swear she heard a collective sigh move through the crowd of onlookers.

His eyes pinned her to the spot as he closed the space between them, grasping her arms in a firm hold. The touch broke through her control, smashing her resolve into tiny pieces and scattering them about her feet.

“I’ve got to know, Kyndal.” He leaned down to look in her eyes, his warm breath catching on her lashes. “Do you love me?”

She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, dropping her eyes from the gaze that held so much love she could hardly bear to look. Her heart swelled as his warm hands cupped her cheeks and raised her face.

“Do you love me, Kyndal?” he repeated.

She gazed into the espresso depths that had melted her heart at first glance. “You know I do,” she answered. “I’ve never stopped loving you.”

“Do you want to be with me?” He paused, and she saw him swallow. “Think about it, because I’m talking about forever.”

She swallowed, too, and nodded. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

He smiled, and his dark eyes flashed with emotion. “Then I have one more question.”

When Chance dropped to one knee in front of her, a sob exploded from her lungs, and she started to tremble. Could this really be happening? She watched in wonder as he took a small box from his pocket and out of the box he produced a ring with a diamond that sparkled more brightly than any of the surrounding holiday lights.

She swayed, but he took her hand, and she knew then that this was Chance in the flesh—no dream, but he was about to make every dream she’d ever had a reality.

“Kyndal Elizabeth Rawlings—” his deep voice suffused her, became a part of her “—I love you and the child you’re carrying with the most perfect love I’ve ever known, and I want to have the two of you beside me for the rest of our lives. Will you marry me?”

Kyndal’s heart swelled as joy poured in and stretched it wide. This was the way it was supposed to be. This was the love that would last forever. The one that would never leave.

“Yes,” she answered.

Chance stood up and she rushed into his outstretched arms. He laughed and she cried and his mouth pressed to hers in a kiss that was the stuff of dreams.

A wild cheer erupted around them as the customers broke into a spontaneous show of jubilation. And with perfect timing, the Mormon Tabernacle Choir blessed the union with a joyous “Hallelujah” booming from the speakers.





EPILOGUE

Nineteen months later

“DID SHE INDICATE HOW long the process could take?” Kyndal set the Winnie the Pooh cake on the tray and arranged the three cupcakes to look like balloons, running their strings to Pooh’s hand.

Jaci poured herself a handful of peanuts from the bag. “She said the average adoption from their agency takes around two years. Could be more…could be less. In the meantime, we’re going to keep trying the old way.”

Kyndal gave her a wink. “There’s easy access to the ancient fertility room now, if y’all want to give it a try.”

Rick’s hunches had turned out to be correct. The depression in the backyard was the cave-in she and Chance encountered at the end of their cave odyssey. Her husband had called in a storm shelter company, who made quick work of digging out the area, shoring up the walls with concrete, pouring a set of steps leading down to the area, and putting in a door.

Not only did they now have a large storm shelter, but easy access to the ancient room, and a second entrance to the cave, as well.

Jaci snorted. “You could rent it out nightly and make a lot of money.”

Kyndal laughed. She wouldn’t admit it even to her best friend, but the room had become a favorite getaway when she and Chance had some time alone.

Jaci seemed to read her thoughts. She shook her head as she stuck one candle into the blue cupcake. “Y’all keep this up, and you’re going to end up with a litter.”

Chance came through the door in time to catch the end of the conversation. “A litter?” His dark eyes grew wide. “Chesney’s not in heat again, is she?”

Kyndal and Jaci laughed, and Kyndal shook her head. “Chesney’s still a virgin, Dad.”

“Whew.” His face relaxed. He moved behind Kyndal, snaking his arms around her waist and leaning down to nibble her ear.

The movement sent a pleasant tingle from her neck downward—a feeling she would never grow tired of. “Are the natives getting restless?” she asked.

“Hank and Chesney are keeping everybody entertained. Chesney’s keeping Bart, Denise and Rick busy throwing the Frisbee. Mom’s bouncing Hank on her knee, and Dad is plying him with Cheerios, bound and determined his first word is going to be grandpa.”

Kyndal pointed to the tray with the lemonade and cups. “Would you get those, Jaci?” She turned and gave Chance a quick kiss. “And if you’ll take this tray, I’ll grab my camera. The lighter’s over there on the counter.”

The small procession started down the steps leading from the back door to the patio. Emily Brennan started singing “Happy Birthday,” and everybody joined in as she placed Hank in his high chair.

Kyndal’s heart twinged for a moment. Her mom was missing so many things, but Kyndal wouldn’t let it ruin this special day—or any more days. The woman was making her choices. She’d have to live with them.

The twinge passed quickly as Hank gave a delighted squeal when he saw the cake and stretched out his chubby hands. With his dark hair and darker eyes, he was the spitting image of his father…and he melted Kyndal’s heart.

Chance helped blow out the candle, and Hank dug into the chocolate cupcake, smearing blue icing from his forehead past his chin. His giggles filled the air, and Kyndal took shot after shot, each one cuter than the next.

When they settled down to their own pieces of cake, Chance took the camera away from her. “I want my beautiful wife chronicled at this event, too.”

Bill Brennan became a different person when he was around Hank. It never ceased to amaze Kyndal how the child coaxed the gentleness out from behind that coarse exterior.

“Say ‘grandpa,’ Hank.” Bill held out a bite of cake. “Can you do that? Can you say ‘grandpa’?”

“Ggggggg,” Hank answered.

“Kyndal.” Rick leaned across the picnic table and tapped her hand. “We found a group of orange-foot pimplebacks yesterday that had been suffocated by zebra clams. Would you be able to take some photos for us to use? We’re trying to get some additional funding for relocation.”

“Oh, good God,” Bill muttered under his breath. He leaned toward his grandson. “Hank, can you say ‘tree-hugger’?”

Hank giggled. “Teehuh.”

The group went silent.

Hank beat his palms on the tray, flattening chunks of cake and spraying a happy Chesney with a shower of chocolate crumbs. “Teehuh!” he shouted, obviously enjoying being once again the center of attention.

Kyndal squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “Please tell me my son’s first word was not tree hug.”

A roar of laughter met her ears with her father-in-law’s guffaw loudest of all.

“Oh, Lord,” she groaned. “Hank didn’t just inherit his dad’s looks, he got his politics, too.”

A warm arm circled her shoulder and pulled her in close, her mother-in-law’s whisper feathering across her ear. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, he’s going to have your way with words.”

* * * * *