“Oh, I see.” He was obscurely displeased at being equated with her father, but he supposed it was better than “grating Gavin.”
“I’m sorry if I awoke you, making so much noise.”
“You didn’t disturb me. I was awake already. In fact I was on my way down here to collect a file when I heard you.”
“You and your facts and figures,” she said huskily. “No, that’s not fair. I’m sorry. You were kind.”
“And you didn’t think I could be?” he asked with irony.
“If I did you an injustice, perhaps it’s your own fault. You work hard at not letting people know you can be kind. I wish I knew why.”
Once he would have said immediately that kindness was a kind of weakness, but he knew if he said that now she would pull out of his arms. And he wanted her to stay there, comfortable and at ease with him. He wanted to go on holding her sweet body against his. “You should have had that cry long ago,” he said gently.
“I couldn’t afford to.” She hiccuped, and he had to fight an instinct to gather her tightly against him. “I had to be strong. I couldn’t afford the time for weakness,” she whispered.
He heard someone-it might have been himself-say, “Grieving isn’t a weakness. It’s a way of replenishing your strength. Don’t stare at me like that. I can be human.”
“Yes, you can,” she said in wonder. “It’s just that you save it for the oddest times-and the oddest people. What you just said is so right. I wish you could remember it where Peter is concerned.”
The sound of his son’s name gave him a shock. For a moment he’d forgotten all about Peter, forgotten everything except how good it felt to be close to her, feeling that she trusted him. “I’ll try to remember,” he said slowly. “But it’s difficult with Peter. I’m floundering.”
“Well, I gathered that,” she said, not unkindly, but with a little smile. “I think the camcorder’s a good idea and if you also-” She stiffened suddenly. “What’s that?”
Gavin too had looked up at the sound of scuffling in the hall. The next moment the door was pushing open and Flick came streaking into the room. Close behind him came light footsteps, making them jump apart a split second before Peter entered in his pajamas. He seized the fox up in his arms and stood looking at them wearily. “It’s two in the morning,” she chided. “You should both be asleep.”
Peter nodded and backed out of the door, still clutching Flick in his arms. Gavin and Norah looked at each other self-consciously, each feeling a faint regret that the moment had gone. From somewhere in the house, Osbert honked faintly.
“I suppose we ought to call it a day,” she said. “When you’ve found your file, I’ll turn out the lights.”
“My what?”
“The file you came down for.”
“Oh, that. Never mind. I guess I don’t need it any more.”
She gave him a wondering look, but turned out the lights without saying anything. Gavin seemed awkward now, and she guessed that he, like she, was conscious of what might have happened if Peter hadn’t interrupted them. It was a good thing that he’d come in when he did, she told herself firmly. Life was already complicated enough, without confusing things further by yielding to a temporary attraction. In tomorrow’s light she would see the illusion for what it was. Gavin would help the process by barking at her in his usual way, and she would forget the kind, understanding man she’d met briefly tonight. Doubtless he was only a rare visitor.
They climbed the stairs together and stood, in mutual embarrassment, outside her door. “Good night,” he said gruffly. “I-you’ll be all right now, won’t you?”
“Yes, I’ll be fine now. And Gavin-thank you.”
“Don’t mention it,” he said quickly. “Well, good night.”
It was only when he’d closed his door behind him that he realized she’d called him Gavin instead of Hunter. It wasn’t the first time she’d used his name, yet tonight it had sounded different. He got into bed and fell asleep almost at once, and this time the bad dreams didn’t trouble him.
Chapter Seven
To Norah’s bemusement and exasperation, Gavin didn’t behave as she’d expected the next day. Instead of snapping at her in his usual brusque manner before retreating into the office, he went out early to buy another camcorder and immediately got to work with it. She enjoyed a laugh at his early fumblings, and he responded with a rueful smile that was the most attractive expression she’d ever seen on his face.
As if he were determined to act out of character, he also adopted her suggestion for getting the best pictures of Peter. Norah came across them while Gavin was saying, “Hold Flick a little higher so that I can see her properly… Now let her run free… You’d better chase her.”
She laughed with pleasure, and they both looked in her direction, smiling. She tried to back off, not wanting to intrude, but Peter ran to her eagerly, took her hand and drew her before the lens. She was about to protest that this was about him, when she remembered the little subterfuge Gavin was practicing at her own suggestion. So she played along, leading Gavin through the sanctuary and asking Peter to fetch out various animals for their moment of stardom.
Delighted, she saw how father and son relaxed when they forgot to worry about their relationship. Gavin seemed to be still the gentle, kindly man of the night before, and Peter responded, smiling, and once even laughing out loud.
The next moment she wondered at herself for being pleased. Every moment that Peter seemed to be at ease in his father’s company was a moment nearer the time she would lose him. Soon, perhaps, the barriers would fall, and father and son would find each other again. Then she would lose both of them. But not yet, she assured herself. There was a long way to go yet.
That evening, when Peter had gone to bed, she found Gavin watching the tape on television. She stopped in the doorway to view the screen and was surprised to see only herself. She was holding Mack and smiling into the little monkey’s face. The next moment Peter appeared. But to her astonishment Gavin pressed the fast-forward button on the terminals and the picture sped ahead until she appeared again, this time in close-up. Suddenly the picture juddered to a halt. Gavin had stopped it, and was holding it still while he studied her face. Norah’s heart was beating madly. She took a deep breath, trying to still it, but nothing could quiet her excitement.
Gavin heard the breath and turned sharply to see her there, just as she backed away and hurried outside. Her cheeks were burning at the implications of what she’d just seen. It was a mistake, surely. Or a whim. That was it. Gavin had watched her face on a passing whim. He was probably annoyed that she’d seen him, in case she misunderstood.
She began to make her final round of the sanctuary, hoping that by the time she went in again he would have gone to bed. But as she closed the final pen behind her she became aware of Gavin standing there, almost hidden by the darkness. “I wondered what had happened to you,” he said.
“I’m always out here at this time of night,” she responded, glad that her voice sounded normal, although her pulses were racing.
“But you don’t always stay out for two hours,” he said.
“I haven’t been here for two hours.”
“Yes, you have. Check your watch.”
She did, and was startled. Had two hours really passed while she walked under the trees thinking of him? But she’d checked the animals as well, hadn’t she? Alarmed, she discovered that she simply couldn’t remember.
“I-some of them were restless. I had to spend more time with them than usual,” she stammered.
“Of course.” He gave no sign of noticing her prevarication, any more than she mentioned how she’d seen him studying her shadow on the screen, but the truth was there between them in the darkness, making the air vibrate.
“It was a good day, wasn’t it?” she said desperately.
“Fine, thanks to you and your bright idea. I’ve been watching the tape. In fact-in fact, I’ve been watching you more than Peter.”
“Have you?” she asked breathlessly.
