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She wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her like he hadn’t seen her for days, though I’d watched him drop her off this morning.

I looked away, giving them the moment.

When he finally stood, he turned to me. “Sorry. I thought it was four thirty.”

“We’re done. We were just coloring.”

His gaze focused on me, and I had the ridiculous urge to shrink away. The man made me uncomfortable in a very feminine way. No, not uncomfortable. Aware. His eyes were a beautiful clear, dark blue, with thick black lashes, and they tracked me.

I forced myself to look away, trying not to look as flustered as I felt when he was in the room. And how the heck do I get up gracefully from the floor?

I shifted to my knees and pushed myself vertical, trying for casual. I was a big girl, and grace was not my strong suit, but I was at too much of a disadvantage with him looming over me.

Remy started gathering her things, and Lane looked at me.

“Everything okay?”

I knew what he was asking, so I chose my words carefully. “Remy’s doing well. We talked about the fires and worries that come after. I’m not sure why this incident spiked her fear, but I think it’s easing.”

His jaw flexed slightly.

“She’s brave,” I said, knowing little ears were listening. “She tells the truth, even when it’s hard.”

He looked at me fully then. Not through me. Not past me. At me.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

Man, that intensity… I cleared my throat and looked away.

“You know, the path of the fires goes up the mountain behind us,” he said softly, and his eyes conveyed what he didn’t want to say in front of her.

Every day she looked at charred trees, reminding her of the fire.

I nodded in understanding.

“Do you want to take your picture home?” I asked Remy, turning to her.

Her gaze slid away. “No.” She hesitated. “But... your picture is beautiful. And funny. Can I take yours home?”

My throat tightened. Without a word, I tore out the page and grabbed a manila folder. I presented it to her formally. “I would love for you to have it.”

“Thank you!” She grinned.

Remy bounced toward the door, holding her father’s hand.

Lane waited until she was down the hallway a little before speaking. “She hasn’t been sleeping well.”

“I know. She says you get called out at night and she worries.”

He hesitated. “I can’t fix that, but I don’t want her thinking something’s going to happen every time I go out the door.”

“I know. It will take time, though. Fear after trauma is normal. What matters is that she knows she’s safe.”

His eyes held mine.

“I try,” he said.

I smiled. “I know you do. It’s obvious how much you love that child.”