Tender Loving Care

few days ago. But I didn’t tell you it started to rain.”

“If you don’t stop this,” Zoe whispered patiently, “I’m going to call the doctor to get you a knock-out drug. Dammit, Rafe, can’t you remember getting a few sore throats and colds as a kid? And I’ve heard Janet say that Parker was prone to minor ear infections. The doctor said it was common and nothing to worry about. Getting wet never hurt anybody.”

He said nothing for a while, and then, “Do you want me to rock him?”

“I’m afraid to move him for fear he’ll wake up again.”

He nodded, then carefully eased himself down on the bed next to Aaron. Finally, he admitted in a whisper, “I can’t stand it, you know. Never could.”

“What?”

“Feeling helpless.”

At eleven she tried putting Parker back to bed, but he immediately woke and started whimpering. Rafe insisted on taking his turn in the rocker, and it was Zoe’s turn to lie down on the bed. Parker was asleep within seconds, and not long after that so was Rafe, his chin nestled on top of the child’s head.

Zoe couldn’t seem to move away from her three males, any more than she could go to sleep. She studied Rafe’s moonlit profile, loving him-maybe more so after today. Even a rock had the right to crumble sometimes. If she’d ever wondered what his Achilles’ heel was, she certainly knew now.

Rafe had no tolerance for feeling helpless, for not being able to help those he cared about. It seemed to Zoe the most endearing and human of weaknesses, but it disturbed her as well. It was the first clue she’d had as to why he didn’t want the responsibility of raising the children. Being a parent meant having to watch little ones stumble and fall, make mistakes and learn from them, suffer growing pains and colds.

Maybe day in, day out caretaking had taken its toll on Rafe. Instead of bringing him closer to the boys, perhaps the constant contact had sealed his feelings in the other direction. He had a fascinating job, an independent lifestyle that included travel and freedom. He valued privacy. Now, instead of enjoying stolen moments of lovemaking, he was faced with the prospect of wiping an urchin’s runny nose all night…How could she blame him for not wanting to make that kind of change in his life?

Parker woke three times in the night. She and Rafe took turns rocking him. In the morning, his fever was down; he ate two bowls of Corn Flakes and picked three fights with his brother. Rafe kept studying him in disbelief. Finally, he poured coffee and shook his head as he whispered to Zoe, “I don’t care what he looks like. I never want to go through another night like that one!”

She took a sip of the steaming brew, but it settled in her stomach like despair.

Chapter Nine

“Aaron? Parker? Rafe?”

The apartment might as well have been a tomb. Parker was long past well and deserved a treat. Zoe had left the institute early, hoping to talk the group into an early Friday-night movie and dinner. Only there was no group.

Poking her head into the kitchen, she noted gleaming counters and clean dishes. Such perfection might have aroused shock and even alarm if she hadn’t heard a muffled thump from the bedroom. Someone was alive and well. Unbuttoning her jacket, she traveled the hallway to her bedroom door, where she took a long, amazed breath.

Two suitcases were propped on her bed. Neither of them was hers, although one was rapidly being filled with her clothes. Rafe was frowning in total masculine puzzlement over the difficulties of neatly folding a pink silk half- slip. Giving up, he tossed it on top, where it promptly slithered into a reasonably neat little heap.

The suitcases more than earned her surprise, but Rafe was the shocker. Used to seeing him in jeans and sweatshirts, Zoe noted the sharply creased tan cords, the calfskin vest, the gleam of a gold watch she hadn’t seen before. His chin was so smooth that his shave couldn’t have been an hour old, and a whiff of English Leather drifted toward her nostrils, distinctly and traditionally masculine. She had reason to know he was a handsome man, even when he was fresh out of bed, but spiffed up, he was darn close to kill-for material.

She delicately cleared her throat, which earned her a fast swivel of a man’s head and blue eyes that reflected dismay, surprise and, if she wasn’t mistaken, guilt.

“You seem to have misplaced two children,” she mentioned.

“You’re home early!” He glanced swiftly back to the suitcases. “I can explain…”

“Good, because for a minute I thought I’d had wine for lunch. I never have wine for lunch, but for some reason those look like my clothes being packed.”

“Yes.” A wisp of a masculine grin. “Now, let’s not panic, Zoe. This is a good surprise, not a bad one-although I admit I’d have been a lot happier if you hadn’t shown up until five. There’s one awkward detail…”

“Just one?”

“Yes, but it’s a big one. Remember, Zoe, I’ve only got one week left of my leave of absence. So next week we have to sit down quietly and discuss what we’ve both been avoiding talking about: what to do with our urchins.”

Her heart promptly pitter-pattered in both hope and despair. From Rafe’s expression, she couldn’t tell which emotion was more appropriate. If she hadn’t brought up the subject, it was only because she couldn’t face listening to what she didn’t want to hear. If an ending was coming, she wanted to postpone it as long as possible.

“But not this weekend, Zoe. This weekend I specifically don’t want to talk about children. I think it’ll do us both good to get away from them for two days. I want you alone. I need you alone.” He glanced up from the shirt he was folding and went totally still. His gaze intimately searched her face. “And I counted on you wanting to come with me,” he said quietly.

She couldn’t seem to stop looking at him. “Yes.” The word was soft and simple. For a moment, the word seemed the only thing that mattered, but of course it wasn’t. “But-”

“But,” he echoed, as he turned back to his packing, “I had to find a sitter for the kids if we were going to escape for two days. Good sitters aren’t exactly flying around free. I had to find someone who could handle scoundrel-age boys. Someone you would trust implicitly. Someone I would take to like weeds take to water.”

The strangest expression crossed his face. He cleared his throat, and his voice had a sudden boyish gruffness. “Look, Zoe. Choices weren’t exactly popping out of the woodwork. If I wanted to be alone with you, I had to find an answer. It was that simple. I don’t want you to be embarrassed, but when push came down to shove, there was really only one person I could ask.”

“For heaven’s sake, would you just tell me who you’re talking about?”

“His mother.” Tall and lanky, with a no-nonsense hairstyle and a smile that radiated warmth, Marjorie Kirkland stood in the doorway for only seconds before swiftly moving forward. “And you have to be Zoe. My son appears to be thoroughly embarrassed that there could be an occasion in a grown man’s life when a mother would still come in handy. I hope to heaven you’re not. I’m absolutely delighted to be here. The boys and I have been getting on like a house afire.”

The drone of the Piper’s engines blocked out any potential for conversation. Beyond his seat, her seat and two suitcases, there was barely enough room for the controls in front of Rafe. It was nearly sunset when they flew over the Columbia River, which marked the boundary between Washington and Oregon.

Zoe, silent, cocked her head toward Rafe bemusedly. She knew they were headed toward southern Oregon, but she hadn’t the faintest idea how he’d managed to rent a plane…or that he had two brothers, a fact she’d learned from his mother, or that he knew how to fly. The questions would wait. At the moment, she was busy absorbing the knowledge that she had Rafe to herself for two whole days. Her heart sang the bittersweet refrain that these two days might be all she’d ever have.

An hour with his mother had been enough to convince Zoe that Marjorie was an angel, and an angel who was more than familiar with little boys. She had a gift for making people comfortable. Initially, the situation had struck Zoe as impossibly awkward. What could Marge possibly think of a woman who would casually take off for a fun- filled weekend, leaving two kids in her wake?

Only Marge, as it happened, was an enthusiastic proponent of fun-filled weekends. She had two other sons who