She peeked at him from the security of Lori's neck and smiled. "Moo-moo, Doc. Moo-moo … cow?"
Something else entirely different jolted through Gray this time, an emotion so strong it jabbed right at his chest. "That's right, Magda. The word is cow. You're a smart kid."
Lori wasn't the only one who could be hurt by his choices. It would have been easier for Magda if he'd let her go right on hating him. Like Lori probably did now.
Somehow, in the span of a week, he'd twisted his life right up with these two. Their matching brown eyes would haunt him all the way to Washington. Not in the least certain what he would say, he still had to try. "Lori, I'm sorry, hon, I thought—"
A car horn drowned out the rest of his sentence. Gray twisted to look over his shoulder and found…
His parents.
Their Chevy Cavalier slid in behind his Explorer. His conversation with his mother came crashing back around him, his unwitting revelation of too many details about how he'd spent his weekend. He shouldn't be surprised by her visit, only that it had taken her twenty-four hours to drop in.
What surprised him most was that she'd managed to convince his father to come along. Gray braced his shoulders. God, he didn't need to deal with his father today.
His mother tucked a hand in her husband's arm and waved up to the trio on the balcony porch. "Hi, sugar! Lovely morning, isn't it?"
Of course she would have to catch him leaving Lori's house—in the morning. His mother had whipped out that maternal radar again. It must be some kind of holdover from his teenage years. He didn't even waste time wondering how she'd tracked Lori's new address.
Gray pulled a pained smile. "Morning, Mom. Dad."
His mother waved for him to come down. "I've got some things in the car. Your father could use help unloading."
He shot Lori an apologetic look, her face now a blank slate. He heard her footsteps behind him as she followed him down the stairs. Of course she wouldn't make a scene in front of his mother.
And neither would he. He had to make the best of it for everyone. His mother was a mama on a mission.
Gray thought of Magda behind him. More likely, his mom was a grandma on a mission. She intended to meet the little imp and would no doubt have Magda charmed in minutes.
Then he would be out of Lori's life again, Magda losing her new "grandma." How could the kid be expected to understand why all the grown-ups in her life suddenly faded away? He sure as hell hadn't understood about his own father—a man who'd never fully returned home.
Gray shoved aside thoughts of his own childhood and focused on the present. Time to head his parents off at the pass. Gray didn't intend to let Magda or Lori suffer any more losses in their lives.
Lori trailed Gray, resisting the urge to punt his too-damned-cute behind all the way down the steps.
Damn Grayson Clark for ruining her day. And damn him again for whisking her right back into his emotional revolving door.
One minute he plied her with more TLC than even her own mother had ever provided. The next, he broke land speed records running for the door.
Then he unrolled the family dinner invitation. Followed by the equivalent of "Been nice reminiscing. Catch you later, hon. I'm headed for Washington."
She wasn't sure she wanted any part of his little farewell gathering. She'd said enough goodbyes to the man to last her a lifetime. If she weakened and went with him to the party, would she weaken further and follow him right to Washington? Even if by some crazy fluke they worked things out, how many more farewells would a life on the move include?
On a day that had already taken a swan dive into the pits, she now had to dodge his matchmaking mama and pretend she didn't want exactly the same thing Angela did.
The closer Lori drew to the Clarks, the tighter Magda's arms locked, reminding Lori she had greater concerns than her own. Snuggling the tiny girl closer, Lori pressed her cheek against Magda's. "Sweetie, it's okay." Lori pointed to the couple stepping from the car. "Doc's mama and papa. Do you understand? That's Doc's mama and papa."
Magda's brow furrowed, but her hold relaxed ever so slightly. Lori slowed to wait in the courtyard. Shading her eyes with her hand, she watched Gray and his father unload a casserole dish, a Tupperware container, and a small cardboard box from the car.
Side by side, there was no mistaking the father-son resemblance. A broader, weather-worn version of his son, Dave Clark was still a striking older man, his full head of salt-and-pepper hair closely trimmed. The resemblance to Gray was there, but superficial only. The similar features didn't look the same without the smile.
Of course, Gray wasn't smiling, either. The two men didn't exchange a single word. No father-son thumps on the back. No quips or discussion of Sunday ball scores. They just quietly unloaded the trunk.
Echoes of Gray's confidences whispered through her mind, of Gray telling her about his father's three years spent in a POW camp. The few times she'd visited with Gray's parents last summer, she'd only seen Dave Clark as a reserved, somewhat brusque man. Now she wondered if he might have once looked more like Gray than she'd originally thought.
Angela swiped the travel wrinkles from her mint-green dress. Men following her, she called out to Lori, "Hello! What a gorgeous morning. Hope you don't mind that we stopped by unannounced. We couldn't help indulging in a drive after early-morning services."
"Hi, Angela. Dave. Of course you're welcome—"