Free Local Hero by Nora Roberts Page A

together? How much had she loved him? That was a thought that dug into his brain too often for comfort. The results of the experience were obvious. She was tense and overly cautious around men. Around him, certainly, Mitch thought with a grimace as he watched Radley sketch. So cautious that she’d stayed out of his path throughout the week.
    Every day between 4:15 and 4:25, he received a polite call. Hester would ask him if everything had gone well, thank him for watching Radley, then ask him to send her son upstairs. That afternoon. Radley had handed him a neatly written check for twenty-five dollars drawn on the account of Hester Gentry Wallace. It was still crumpled in Mitch’s pocket.
    Did she really think he was going to quietly step aside after she’d knocked the wind out of him? He hadn’t forgotten what she’d felt like pressed against him, inhibitions and caution stripped away for one brief, stunning moment. He intended to live that moment again as well as the others his incorrigible imagination had conjured up.
    If she did think he’d bow out gracefully, Mrs. Hester Wallace was in for a big surprise.
    â€œI can’t get the retro rockets right,” Radley complained. “They never look right.”
    Mitch set aside his own work, which had stopped humming along the moment he’d started to think of Hester. “Let’s have a look.” He took the spare sketch pad he’d lent to Radley. “Hey, not bad.” He grinned, foolishly pleased with Radley’s attempt at the
Defiance
. It seemed the few pointers he’d given the kid had taken root. “You’re a real natural, Rad.”
    The boy blushed with pleasure, then frowned again. “But see, the boosters and retros are all wrong. They look stupid.”
    â€œOnly because you’re trying to detail too soon. Look, light strokes, impressions first.” He put a hand over the boy’s to guide it. “Don’t be afraid to make mistakes. That’s why they make those big gum erasers.”
    â€œYou don’t make mistakes.” Radley caught his tongue between his teeth as he struggled to make his hand move as expertly as Mitch’s.
    â€œSure I do. This is my fifteenth eraser this year.”
    â€œYou’re the best artist in the whole world,” Radley said, looking up, his heart in his eyes.
    Moved and strangely humbled, Mitch ruffled the boy’s hair. “Maybe one of the top twenty, but thanks.” When the phone rang, Mitch felt a strange stab of disappointment. The weekend meant something different now—no Radley. For a man who had lived his entire adult life without responsibilities, it was a sobering thought to realize he would miss one. “That should be your mother.”
    â€œShe said we could go out to the movies tonight ’cause it’s Friday and all. You could come with us.”
    Giving a noncommittal grunt, Mitch answered the phone. “Hi, Hester.”
    â€œMitch, I—everything okay?”
    Something in her tone had his brows drawing together. “Just dandy.”
    â€œDid Radley give you the check?”
    â€œYeah. Sorry, I haven’t had a chance to cash it yet.”
    If there was one thing she wasn’t in the mood for at the moment, it was sarcasm. “Well, thanks. If you’d send Radley upstairs, I’d appreciate it.”
    â€œNo problem.” He hesitated. “Rough day, Hester?”
    She pressed a hand to her throbbing temple. “A bit. Thank you, Mitch.”
    â€œSure.” He hung up, still frowning. Turning to Radley, he made the effort to smile. “Time to transfer your equipment, Corporal.”
    â€œSir, yes, sir!” Radley gave a smart salute. The intergalactic army he’d left at Mitch’s through the week was tossed into his backpack. After a brief search, both of his gloves were located and pushed in on top of the plastic figures. Radley stuffed his coat and hat in