Midnight Choices

“I see.” He took the melted butter out of the microwave and drizzled it over his pancakes.

“You’re either remarkably tactful or lacking in curiosity.”

The amusement in her voice made him look at her, really look at her. Mistake, he thought as his groin tightened. Down, boy. But there was such self-deprecating humor in her eyes that he couldn’t help smiling back. “Oh, I’m curious, but devious about it. I was the middle child until my little sister was born. Middle children learn to be tricky.”

“Do they?” When she relaxed into her smile like that, she reminded him of her son—no trace of the princess now, just warm, sunny woman. “I wouldn’t know, being an only child. We don’t bother to be devious since the world revolves around us.”

He chuckled and carried his pancakes to the table. “I can’t remember the last time Ben made pancakes for breakfast. Thanks for inspiring him.”

“Zach’s the inspiration.” She threw herself back into motion, heading across the kitchen. “Which is wonderful, just what I’d hoped for. Being Zach’s father is obviously important to Ben.” She opened the door. “Where’s the trash?”

“Under the sink. You don’t stand still much, do you?”

“Not willingly.” She hurried back across the room to toss the paper towel in the trash. “I guess that’s all the damage I can do here without snatching your plate away. Most people get testy if I do that before they finish eating.”

“Something of a neatnik, are you?”

“It’s one of my more annoying flaws. I’d better see what’s keeping Zach.”

“He’s okay. We haven’t heard any loud crashes.” Duncan took a sip of coffee. “I was fifteen when my folks were killed. Ben was twenty-one. He dropped out of college, talked the construction company where he’d been working in the summers to take him on full-time and persuaded the court he was a fit guardian for the lot of us.” Duncan put down his mug. “You didn’t ask, but I thought you ought to know. He comes by his managing ways honestly.”

She tipped her head to one side. “I always wanted a brother or sister—someone who could do for me what you just did for Ben. Someone with all that shared history. I never intended for Zach to be an only child, too.”

“Does he have to be?”

“I don’t know.” She had a look on her face that made him think she wanted to clean something, and quick. Her glance fell on his mug, which was half-empty. She grabbed it and carried it to the coffeepot, which put her back to him. “I’m not sure what you know. What has Ben told you about my health?”

Ah. Easier to talk about some things when you weren’t eye to eye. “He said you were diagnosed with breast cancer a year and a half ago. The lump was small and they think they got it all. You had radiation before the surgery, and you’re on some kind of hormonal treatment.”

“Tamoxifen. I’ll take it for another three years. It suppresses estrogen production. They think high estrogen levels are linked to the type of cancer I had.”

Duncan’s grasp of female biology tended to be more hands-on than scientific, but he thought he saw where she was headed. “Would pregnancy affect your hormone levels?”

“Yes. They don’t know how much of a danger that is, though.” She turned around, his mug steaming gently in one hand. “You have no idea what a relief it is to talk to someone who can say ‘cancer’ right out loud without stammering.”

“Ben’s not usually one to tiptoe around a subject.”

“A lot of people are uncomfortable talking about it, though. My mother avoids the word as if it referred to a social disease.” The quick flash of her grin suggested this was a harmless oddity, nothing that troubled her.

“She’s afraid for you.”

“Yes. Yes, she is. And now I really need to check on Zach. If you think the only kinds of trouble he can get into are noisy—well, obviously it’s been a while since you were four.”