Cazzo, she loved him. She pulled in a breath. How to give him the news?

Maybe start with family? She went down on one knee beside him. “Hey, Aric, did your mama tell you I was there when you were born?”

“You were?”

“Uh-huh. I was in the hospital with her and got to hold you.” She made a baby-holding curve in one arm and patted it. “You were only this big. That was the day she asked me to be your godmother.”

On the other side of JJ, Regan stopped coloring. “What’s a godmother?”

“A godmother is kind of like having a second mother.” Frankie patted Aric’s knee. “That’s why, when your mama said the pissers wouldn’t let you leave, I came to help.”

“Papá said you flew all the way from New York.” Regan looked at Aric. “It’s a really, really long way, and he said Kit was lucky to have Frankie for a friend.” Her voice dropped. “That’s the kind of friend I’m gonna be.”

“Oh, baby.” JJ made a choking sound and put an arm around Regan. “You already are.”

Frankie thought so too.

“Godmuvver,” Aric said slowly, as if trying on the word for size.

Frankie leaned against him. “Mmmhmm. So whenever your mama can’t be with you, you have a second mama to watch over you.”

She’d wait until after supper to tell him that tonight was going to be one of those times.

Little forehead wrinkled, Aric started coloring again…because he was a young man who liked to consider things carefully. The damn PZers had obviously taught him what happened to children who acted before thinking.

Frankie’s heart ached. “Want me to draw the next penguin?”

Aric studied her with solemn eyes, then handed her a purple crayon.

“Ooooh, purple.” She held it up.

“Uh-huh. Cuz purple’s your fav’rite.” The most adorable child in the world gave her a sweet smile. “Godmuvver.”

In the mountain range, Kit stretched her feet toward the fire. “I’m glad we have a fire—and that you’re so careful with it.”

The campfire Hawk had made was downstream of a tiny waterfall in an area of patchy grass. After digging a fire pit, he’d lined the edge with river stones.

He was seated on a low canvas camp chair—another treasure from his helicopter. “If it hadn’t been a wet summer, we’d be using the camp stove now.”

“I guess that means the fire won’t burn all night to keep the bears away?”

“No fire.” He pointed to an open area across the creek and uphill. “We’ll sleep away from the creek and the smell of food.”

She sipped her hot chocolate, savoring the hazelnut taste from the Frangelico Liqueur he’d added. Rather than a horrendous survival experience, this felt more like a mini-vacation.

“Want another?” he asked.