She knew Quill could tell there was something wrong, but she just shrugged. They got dressed and folded the blankets before walking back to camp hand in hand. To deflect his concern she scolded him for the small rips in the blanket they’d lain on last night. “But I couldn’t help it!” He defended himself with a small smile that hinted at wickedness. “You made me do it.” “Now I’ll have to mend it.” She gave an exaggerated sigh. “You be good tonight, or I’ll stay in camp with Tommy and Connor.” He made his face contrite. “I promise I’ll be good. Cross my heart.” Having him tease and joke with her was fun. She was giggling when they reached camp. Everyone else was up, and breakfast was waiting. Her initial embarrassment was forgotten when Connor launched himself over the grass at her knees. “Mama!” he shrieked. The weight and warmth of her son in her arms was a gift she’d always be thankful for. To Neal, for giving her Connor, and to Quill, for giving Connor back to her.
