Free Robin by Julane Hiebert

friend? A friend friend. Right?”
    This was new territory for her—this sensation that someone like Ty Morgan might be interested in her. Did she dare imagine even a bit of jealousy? Her limited intuition about such matters told her this was not the wisest time to expound on her relationship with William Benson. She smiled. Perhaps Ty wouldn’t sense her hesitancy. How could she explain William to another man? “An old friend.”
    He leaned closer. “And how would you describe me to this ol d friend?”
                   She took a deep breath. Oh my, but he smelled good; however, she’d resist the urge to sniff again. Warmth tingled her toes, swirled through her tummy, and moved right on up. She wanted to fan herself, but that would be a bit awkward. Besides, the fan would doubtless send a whiff of pickle juice right to his nostrils. “I suppose I would say you’re a ne w friend.”
                  Ty chuckled. “I expected something a bit more eloquent, like—dashing or handsome.” His arm moved to her waist. “Let’s walk. I have something I want you to see. Maybe then you will even say I’m specia l. ”
                  “Is it far? I don’t want Jacob to be frightened if he wakes up and doesn’t see us right away.”
                  “Not far, and we’ll be able to hear if he calls. Promise.” Ty led her around the other side of the tree that sheltered their picnic spot.
    The large trunk, on the side not previously visible to Robin, was hollowed out, a depression large enough for only one person. Ty loosened his grip on her waist. “This is my ‘leaning’ tree. I hid in here for the first time after my pa scolded me for not keeping my word. I rolled a pair of socks together with a clean shirt, got my fishing pole, and ran away from home.”
    Robin laughed. “And you knew this place was here?”
    Ty nodded. “John showed it to me one day. I came down here often when I was a boy. Your grandmother Wenghold made the best molasses cookies in Kansas, and she was just as sweet. I wouldn’t be surprised if John hid in this same tree when he was a lad.”
    “Did your papa know where to find you?
    “Now that I’m older I’m quite sure he knew all about this place. He left me out here the first night to teach me a lesson. I sat on the ground with my bundle of clothes until it grew too dark to see.”
    “Were you afraid of the dark?”
    He shook his head. “Not the dark around me, but the dark eyes I’d encounter when I faced my pa. I knew he would be disappointed and that was worse than any spanking he could have administered.”
    “You said it was your ‘leaning’ tree.” Robin scrunched herself into the cavity and leaned against the rough bark. “It is comfortable, isn’t it?”
    “I got too big to huddle down on the ground inside, but I could lean against it all day. It’s my ‘safe’ place. This old tree knows more about me than anyone living. When my pa was dying, I would come here and let the familiar notch embrace me. It frightened me to think of taking over the responsibility of running the ranch myself. I spent the night after Ma died in here, listening to the night sounds and watching clouds sweep across the face of the moon. I needed the familiar noises and scenes that I’d experienced with her, sitting on our porch or walking down the lane in the dark. And that night after . . .”
    Robin put her fingers on his lips. She didn’t know what memory she interrupted, but with each remembrance his eyes darkened, and the furrow on his brow deepened. “Didn’t you ever come here in happy times? Has this tree ever seen you smile?”
    He placed his hands on either side of the entrance and leaned toward her. “ Thi s is a happy time, Robin.” His gaze met hers. “And I’m smiling.”
    He was so near she could hear the stead y tick, tick, tic k . . . She closed her eyes . Oh, Robin, you silly girl . It wasn’t his heart.
    “The big