For Love and Family by Victoria Pade Page B

a problem.
    â€œIt’ll be fu-un. Like campin’…” Johnny cajoled in a singsong that was obviously designed to be irresistibly tempting. “We can just go to the pond—that’s not far—and we can have a fire and make hot dogs and beans and marshmallows.”
    â€œYou have this all worked out, do you?” Hunter asked.
    Johnny just gave him a too-innocent shrug.
    Hunter shifted his gold-speckled gaze to Terese. “Well, T’rese,” he said, mimicking his son’s version of her name. “What do you say? Does that sound like dinner to you?”
    â€œSure, why not?” Terese conceded, liking it every bit as much when the father said her name that way.
    â€œThen I guess that’s what we’ll do. Did you bring a warm jacket?” he asked then.
    Even though it was late October, the weather had been unseasonably warm and the forecast for the entire week was for more of the same. The eveningscooled down considerably, but Terese hadn’t expected to be outside for any length of time after dark so she’d only packed a very light jacket. Which was what she told her host.
    â€œI don’t think that’ll be enough,” he said. “I’ll give you something of mine to wear.”
    â€œSo we’re goin’?” Johnny demanded, his excitement on the verge of erupting.
    â€œWe’re goin’,” Hunter confirmed. “But you’ll need warmer clothes, too. I want you in your sweatshirt and your field coat.”
    That was all Johnny needed to hear. He leaped off the chair and ran out of the kitchen, hollering, “I’ll be right back!”
    â€œHow are you at makin’ hot chocolate?” Hunter asked her then with a note of challenge in his voice that was similar to the one last night when he’d let her know he doubted she could cook.
    â€œI think I can handle it,” she said.
    â€œYou’ll have to pour it into a thermos, too.”
    He was teasing her. The crooked half smile that played around the corner of one side of his mouth gave him away.
    â€œA thermos?” she repeated as if she’d never heard of such a thing.
    â€œIt’s like a carafe, only with insulation and a screw-on top to keep things inside warm.”
    â€œAh, a carafe. That I understand,” she joked. “All I can promise is that I’ll picture how our cook would do it and try to master the skill.”
    Hunter laughed and she liked the sound much too much. “That’ll be your job, then. I’ll pack up everything else we’ll need and get you a coat.”
    His coat.
    Why did the thought of wearing something of Hunter’s make her feel as excited as Johnny was by this impromptu picnic?
    Terese was beginning to think that breathing manure fumes all day had done something to her sanity.
    But all she said was, “I’ll get the milk,” putting herself into motion before she went any crazier than she already had.
    Â 
    Less than an hour later they were on their way in Hunter’s big black pickup.
    Hunter was driving and Johnny was safely belted into the center of the bench seat, while Terese sat on the passenger side, snuggled inside the big flannel-lined jean jacket that Hunter had loaned her. That Hunter had held out for her to slip into.
    It still smelled faintly of his aftershave, reminding her that he’d worn it himself. That his broad shoulders and strong back and mighty pectorals and powerful biceps had all been encased in that coat just the way she was at that moment.
    But she kept telling herself not to think about it. And especially not to think about the secret little rush it was giving her.
    The pond was on Coltrane property and they tooka dirt road that began behind the barn and headed out into the open countryside.
    Terese was glad Hunter seemed to know where he was going because without any illumination except a full moon and the truck’s headlights, she could barely