Logan took the little boy in his arms. Despite everyone’s exclamations over how he’d grown, Charlie felt so small and fragile. He was being taken away to the other side of the world, where Logan couldn’t see him or touch him, inhale the little boy smell of him, lie next to him while he fell asleep at night. “I’ll miss you, buddy.”

“Me, too.”

“Okay. One more kiss and a hug.”

A big squeeze. Logan pressed his lips to his son’s warm, silky red hair. “So long, pal.” He pasted on a smile and pretended a piece of his heart was not being torn out. Then he stood up and headed for his car. At the edge of the parking lot, he turned and watched Charlie and his other family bustling around. Just for a moment, Charlie paused and looked back. He offered a big smile, and then their special salute, index finger and pinky in the air as if at a rock concert. Then Charlie turned back to the family and was swept into the business of leaving.

The hole in Logan’s chest felt as big and jagged as the Grand Canyon.

“Fuck,” he said again, and without thinking, broke the painted paddle in two.

“You look as if you could use a friend,” said a voice behind him.

He swung around. Darcy Fitzgerald was walking toward him, carrying an overnight bag. “Or an anger-management class,” she added, eyeing the broken paddle.

“Just handed my son off to his mom,” Logan said. “Never the best start to the day.”

“I’m sorry. I know it’s hard.”

Hell no, she had no idea. He wasn’t going to argue with her, though. “I’ll deal,” he said, picking up the pieces of Charlie’s paddle, the paddle he’d promised to safeguard. To change the subject, he asked, “You’re going back to the city?”

“That’s right.” She tilted her face to the sun. “Hard to leave on a day like today.”

“India said Charlie lives part-time in Oklahoma.”

“That’s right.”

“Must be so challenging for you.”

“Every time I say goodbye to Charlie, it kills me a little bit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I need to get going,” he said.

“Back to work?”

“That’s right.”

“So, your sister said you’re in business for yourself?”

She was probably just making polite conversation. But her question annoyed him. Maybe she was fishing for information on him. Did he have a steady, stable job? Was he a good prospect? A catch?

Some devil made him reply, “As a matter of fact, I’m just about to change jobs. That local ski area I mentioned? I’ll be taking it over.”