Smiling happily, Aric grabbed onto Hawk’s flannel shirt.

The sawdust covering the little fingers inevitably covered the fabric. When Hawk brushed it off, Aric cringed.

“At ease. Some people give a damn about getting dirty; I don’t.”

He could almost hear Mako’s rumbling voice. “Never trust a man who’s afraid to get his hands dirty.”

The kid hadn’t relaxed.

So, taking Aric’s hand, Hawk blew on the fingers, sending sawdust over them both.

And got one of the boy’s tiny laughs.

Chapter Two

The only way to have a friend is to be one. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Here, this room is for you and Aric.” Frankie opened the door.

With a hand on her aching ribs, Kit stepped past her friend.

Dark blue curtains matched the blue and green quilt. Bronze-colored lamps and picture frames added warmth. Her eyes prickled at the welcoming atmosphere.

In one corner, rather than a chair, there was a loveseat. What with abdominal surgery and broken ribs, it’d be a while before she could have her boy sitting on her lap. But the loveseat was big enough she could read to Aric with him snuggled up beside her, and there was even a beautiful, comfy throw blanket.

Her bestie was the most thoughtful person in the world.

“The bathroom is here.” Frankie opened a door on the left wall, then another beside it. “Closet. I added some warmer clothes.”

“Frankie…” Sweet heavens, it was hard to accept charity, even from a friend. Maybe because she’d learned how some people could resent the act of giving. Aunt Norma and her husband, Duane, had raised her after her parents died—and constantly said how she should be grateful for their charity and generosity. Frankie wasn’t like them, but the feeling of obligation was heavy, even if it was to her best friend.

Frankie laughed. “I recognize that worried expression. Yes, I did a lot for you, but girl, if I hadn’t come here to help you, I wouldn’t have Bull. In a way, I feel like I owe you.” After rescuing Kit, Frankie stayed in Alaska to be with Bull. She really did have the glow of love about her.

Kit couldn’t keep from smiling.

A rumbling laugh came from the doorway. “We both owe you, Kit.” Bull walked in slowly, as if he recognized how scary his size was, especially to a woman who’d been imprisoned by the PZs. The man was at least three or four inches over six feet and massive. But his wide smile was friendly, his dark eyes kind—and when he looked at Frankie, it was obvious he adored her.

Looking past Bull into the hallway, Kit frowned. “I thought Aric would be with you. Would—” Would want to see his mother, would be waiting for her…