The Road To Love: Love by Degree / The Rain Sparrow. Debbie Macomber

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      “Finish it?” She groaned. “Are you kidding? I haven’t even started it.”

      “What’s a math paper?” Jimmy asked.

      Rocking the baby, Ellen looked solemnly over at the boy. “Well, it’s something I have to write for a math class. And if I don’t write a paper, I haven’t got a hope of passing the course.” She didn’t think he’d understand any algebraic terms. For that matter, neither did she.

      “What’s math?”

      “Numbers,” Reed told the boy.

      “And, in this case, sometimes letters—like x and y.”

      “I like numbers,” Jimmy declared. “I like three and nine and seven.”

      “Well, Jimmy, my boy, how would you like to write my paper for me?”

      “Can I?”

      Ellen grinned at him. “You bet.”

      Reed got out pencil and paper and set the four-year-old to work.

      Glancing up, she gave Reed a smile. “See how easy this is? You’re good with kids.” Reed smiled in answer as he carefully drew numbers for Jimmy to copy.

      After several minutes of this activity, Jimmy decided it was time to put on his pajamas. Seeing him yawn, Reed brought down a pillow and blanket and tucked him into a hastily made bed on the sofa. Then he read a bedtime story until the four-year-old again yawned loudly and fell almost instantly asleep.

      Ellen still hadn’t moved, fearing that the slightest jolt would rouse the baby.

      “Why don’t we set her down in the baby seat?” Reed said.

      “I’m afraid she’ll wake up.”

      “If she does, you can rock her again.”

      His suggestion made sense and besides, her arms were beginning to ache. “Okay.” He moved to her side and took the sleeping child. Ellen held her breath momentarily when Jenny stirred. But the little girl simply rolled her head against the cushion and returned to sleep.

      Ellen rose to her feet and turned the lamp down to its dimmest setting, surrounding them with a warm circle of light.

      “I couldn’t have done it without you,” Reed whispered, coming to stand beside her. He rested his hand at the back of her neck.

      An unfamiliar warmth seeped through Ellen, and she began to talk quickly, hoping to conceal her sudden nervousness. “Sure you could have. It looked to me as if you had everything under control.”

      Reed snorted. “I was ten minutes away from calling the crisis clinic. Thanks for coming to the rescue.” He casually withdrew his hand, and Ellen felt both relieved and disappointed.

      “You’re welcome.” She was dying to know what had happened with Danielle, but she didn’t want to ask. Apparently, the other woman hadn’t stayed around for long.

      “Have you eaten?”

      Ellen had been so busy that she’d forgotten about dinner, but once Reed mentioned it, she realized how hungry she was. “No, and I’m starved.”

      “Do you like Chinese food?”

      “Love it.”

      “Good. There’s enough for an army out in the kitchen. I ordered it earlier.”

      Ellen didn’t need to be told that he’d made dinner plans with Danielle in mind. He’d expected to share an intimate evening with her. “Listen,” she began awkwardly, clasping her hands. “I really have to get going on this term paper. Why don’t you call Danielle and invite her back? Now that the kids are asleep, I’m sure everything will be better. I—”

      “Children make Danielle nervous. She warned me about it, but I refused to listen. She’s home now and has probably taken some aspirin and gone to sleep. I can’t see letting good food go to waste. Besides, this gives me an opportunity to thank you.”

      “Oh.” It was the longest speech that Reed had made. “All right,” she agreed with a slight nod.

      While Reed warmed the food in the microwave, Ellen set out plates and forks and prepared a large pot of green tea, placing it in the middle of the table. The swinging door that connected the kitchen with the living room was left open in case either child woke.

      “What do we need plates for?” Reed asked with a questioning arch of his brow.

      “Plates are the customary eating device.”

      “Not tonight.”

      “Not tonight?” Something amusing glinted in Reed’s eyes as he set out several white boxes and brandished two pairs of chopsticks. “Since it’s only the two of us, we can eat right out of the boxes.”

      “I’m not very adept with chopsticks.” The smell drifting from the open boxes was tangy and enticing.

      “You’ll learn if you’re hungry.”

      “I’m famished.”

      “Good.” Deftly he took the first pair of chopsticks and showed her how to work them with her thumb and index finger.

      Imitating his movements Ellen discovered that her fingers weren’t nearly as agile as his. Two or three tries at picking up small pieces of spicy diced chicken succeeded only in frustrating her.

      “Here.” Reed fed her a bite from the end of his chopsticks. “Be a little more patient with yourself.”

      “That’s easy for you to say while you’re eating your fill and I’m starving to death.”

      “It’ll come.”

      Ellen grumbled under her breath, but a few tries later she managed to deliver a portion of the hot food to her eager mouth.

      “See, I told you you’d pick this up fast enough.”

      “Do you always tell someone ‘I told you so’?” she asked with pretended annoyance. The mood was too congenial for any real discontent. Ellen felt that they’d shared a special time together looking after the two small children. More than special—astonishing. They hadn’t clashed once or found a single thing to squabble over.

      “I enjoy teasing you. Your eyes have an irresistible way of lighting up when you’re angry.”

      “If you continue to insist that I eat with these absurd pieces of wood, you’ll see my eyes brighten the entire room.”

      “I’m looking forward to that,” he murmured with a laugh. “No forks. You can’t properly enjoy Chinese food unless you use chopsticks.”

      “I can’t properly taste it without a fork.”

      “Here, I’ll feed you.” Again he brought a spicy morsel to her mouth.

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