Читать книгу Soldier Daddy - Cheryl Wyatt - Страница 10

“I’ll see who it is.” Mina made her way to the trilling phone the next evening. After answering, Mina handed the cordless to Aaron. “Sarah.”

Aaron brought it to his ear. “Hey, Sarah. What’s up?”

“Hi. Hope I didn’t wake the boys by calling.”

“No, we’re just getting ready for bath time.”

“I’m calling to see if maybe I left my phone there. I’ve checked all other places I was yesterday and today and can’t find it. I don’t use it that often, so I didn’t realize it was missing until a couple hours ago.”

“Have you tried calling it?”

“Yes, but I might have left it on vibrate. I don’t remember. Strange thing is, a couple of times I’ve called, it seemed like someone answered. Then what sounds like a small snowblower runs. Then it disconnects.”

A small snowblower? Aaron eyed his boys—particularly the one with the penchant for phones and making sneak calls: Bryce. But of course there was Braden—not a day shy—who still sometimes answered the phone at times when Aaron’s voice came across the answering machine before Mina could make it to the cordless. Small snowblower did quite accurately describe Braden breathing into a phone before he spoke into it.

Aaron tuned back into Sarah.

“…then it goes to voice mail. I’m afraid the battery will die soon and I won’t be able to find it.”

Aaron rose and looked around the sitting room where Sarah had romped with the boys. “I don’t see it at first glance, but I’ll take a better look and call you back.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that.”

Aaron hung up and moved the footstool. No phone.

Bryce approached cautiously, finger in mouth. “Whatcha doin’ Daddy? Who was on the phone?”

On his knees, Aaron angled toward Bryce. “Miss Sarah. I’m looking for her phone. She might have lost it here. Have you seen it?”

Bryce’s eyes grew wide. He faced Braden, who suddenly avoided Aaron and streaked past the bathroom.

“Son?”

“Um…” Bryce looked ready to flee or cry. He darted guilty looks toward the stairs, where Braden now half slunk, half tiptoed upward.

And suddenly Aaron knew. One of them had the phone.

He could go ahead and call it, hoping to hear it vibrate or chime, but he wanted to give the mini-criminal a chance to come clean first.

“Bryce? Do you know where the phone is?”

He gnawed his finger. “Um. Maybe.”

“Does Braden have the phone?”

Bryce shook his head with vigor. “He doesn’t have it.”

“Does he know where it is?”

“Maybe.”

“Do you?”

“No. Please don’t be mad at him, Daddy.”

Aaron rose. “Braden? Come down here, please.”

Braden had never descended stairs so slowly. “What, Dad?”

“Do you know where Miss Sarah’s phone is?”

Braden fidgeted so much the banister jiggled.

“Son?” Aaron lengthened the word and firmed his tone.

“I don’t have it!”

Aaron drew a breath, hoping to inhale patience along with oxygen.

God, help Braden want to be honest. And help me deal with this right so he learns integrity.

Aaron picked up his cell phone and typed in Sarah’s number. Seconds later a musical tune sounded from the playroom.

Bryce gasped. Braden’s eyes bugged.

“Busted.”

He must not have heard the chime before due to the solid-wood door being closed.

Aaron tilted his chin at Braden, frozen to the stairs. “Go get it. Now.” Aaron’s tone left no room to refute or resist.

He dialed Sarah back at the number in the caller ID and let her know the phone was there. “I’ll call you right back, Sarah.”

Braden shuffled like an endangered snail to the other room. His ploy when he didn’t want to do something or when he was in trouble was to feign fatigue.

“Get a move on. Or get used to no cartoons.”

Braden sped up considerably, then returned with the phone outstretched. “I didn’t mean to steal it.” Braden’s chin wobbled. At least he looked contrite now.

Aaron sat and pulled Braden onto his lap. “Then why did you take it, son?”

“I just borrowed it so she would come back and get it.”

Bryce moved close. “Yeah. We like Miss Sarah and want her to come back.”

Aaron nibbled his bottom lip. At least Braden hadn’t lifted the phone solely for the sake of stealing it. “Taking her phone wasn’t the best way to go about making her want to come back though. Was it?”

The boys shook their heads.

Aaron called Sarah’s landline again. “I’ll bring your phone by so you don’t have to use the gas. But first, I have a couple of boys who’d like to say something.”

“Okay.” Sarah sounded mildly curious.

He passed the phone to Braden.

As Sarah sat at the tiny motel-room table preparing to write one of her thrice-weekly letters, whimpers came across the line, causing her to pause.

“Mi-iss Sarah?”

Bryce or Braden? She couldn’t be sure. “Yes?”

“I—I—I—Please don’t be mad at me and not come back.”

Sarah’s heart melted. “Is this Braden?”

“Ye-heaw.”

“Do you have something to tell me?”

Sniffles. “Uh-huh.”

Shuffling came across the line. Then in the background she heard Aaron’s voice, softly coaching Braden. Then what sounded like an escalating, “I-don’t-want-to-I-don’t-want-to-I-don’t-want-to,” then a minor scuffle then sniffling back on the line.

“M-Miss Sarah, I took your phone.”

“Oh. Why? Did you just want to play with it?”

“No-oo. I wanted to play with you.”

Sarah covered the phone and turned her mouth away. Easier to quell the laugh. “You thought if you took my phone that I’d have to come back. Is that it?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Aaron whispered in the background.

“Yes, ma’am,” Braden corrected in a wobbly voice.

“Well, how about if I want to come back on my own? Wouldn’t that be better?”

“Uh-huh. Daddy says, wait…” The sound of a hand muting the phone but not covering it completely. “What did you say, Daddy?” Then Braden’s windlike breath came back across the phone. “He says it’s not wrong to wanna see you again. Just how I took the phone to get my way wasn’t right.”

A deep male voice from the background: “And I’m sorry.”

“And I’m…wait. Daddy, why are you sorry?”

A sigh. Then an Aaron-size chuckle. “Not me, son. You.”

“Oh. I’m sorry, Miss Sarah.”

“I forgive you, Braden. And I hope we get to see each other again, too. Your daddy loves you and your brother very much. So much that he wants to be very sure to pick the right nanny. If that’s not me, then God will send someone better. Do you believe that?”

“Guess so.”

“So you learned a lesson today. Sometimes I’ve learned lessons the hard way, too.”

“You did?”

“Yup. But you’re a good boy and I know your daddy knows that.”

“Kay. Bye.” More shuffling.

Then, “Sarah?” The deep baritone of the father whose voice should not make her want to swoon or melt. But did nonetheless.

“I’m here.” But wish I was there.

“Thanks for being so gracious with forgiveness.”

Please return the favor. “No problem.”

But there was a problem. Braden’s innocent words rang in her head like a gong.

Daddy says it’s not wrong to want to see you again.

Why did her mind question whether it was wrong to hope the boys’ father wanted to see her again, too?

“If you’ll shoot me your address, I’ll run this phone by.”

Nor could she deny the hope lifting her joy and her pulse in anticipation of seeing Aaron again.

Sarah fumbled with reciting the address. “If you want to bring the boys, that’s fine.”

“They’d love to come see you, but bedtime looms.”

“Ahh, yes. Very important to keep schedules consistent.”

“Especially since their emotional equilibrium is a little off with me returning to work.”

“Would it be better for me to come there to get my phone?”

“No, then the boys would be too riled to sleep. Besides, that’d reward Braden for taking your phone and Bryce for hiding the fact from me. Especially since they did so to force you back. I’ll just bring it by.”

“Okay.” Sarah hated for Mina to have to do the bedtime ritual alone. “If you need to wait until the boys are bathed and settled to come over, that’s fine.”

“That’d be good. I’ll help Mina put the boys down to sleep first if you don’t mind waiting.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“Great, then. See you in a bit.”

The call disconnected, but she could still imagine his voice on the line. See you in a bit. She melted at the notion.

Then she remembered she was wearing her oldest pair of snarled-leg jeans with her favorite—but falling apart—flip-flops.

She surged to her closet and searched for something nicer. She flipped through hangers, struggling to convince herself she was trying to impress Aaron her potential boss and not Aaron the drop-dead gorgeous man.

Sarah shoved down flares of attraction trying to ignite in her mind. Fended off fond remembrances of the way he said her name, of how deep and rich and soothing-suave his voice was. How intent and coordinated he looked when he walked: sure and solid yet graceful and sublime.

“That’s it.” She’d nip this nonsense right now. Sarah reached blindly and yanked a shirt, any shirt, from a hanger, vowing she’d wear whatever her hand landed on. The material slid off into her fingers, which recoiled at the feel of steely, pokey wool.

The closet mocked her like an open, laughing mouth.

Great. The ugly unisex fruitcake cardigan her family passed around at Christmas. Year after year they’d rewrap it and send it to someone else. Sarah had managed to avoid it until this year. It was four sizes too big, but oh, well. She must endure her choice and ensure her motives were pure.

After throwing the cardigan over her pink, paint-splotched T-shirt, Sarah intentionally resisted the urge to rush to the bathroom and freshen up her hair and makeup before he came.

She stood in front of the motel dresser mirror and pointed a finger at her reflection. “Don’t feed this attraction. Don’t. And it will starve into nothing.”

Deep inside, she knew she wanted this for the boys.

She sat on the creaky bed and picked up her Bible. “Please order this attraction back in its place,” she asked God and opened to where she’d started reading this morning.

Then she sat to write her letter.

I pray you always have people in your life who love and care about you. I wish you a full life. I’m sorry I might have taken that away. I pray for you every day. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about you and wonder how you are. I’m sorry for my choice beyond what words can say. With love, Sarah.

She stamped a flower on the front of the envelope and fancied it with her embosser. Sunflower this time. She rose and eyed the sparse parking lot. The clock. Paced the small room. Pondered how heavy a responsibility it would be to find the most well-suited long-term caregiver for those little cuties, who were obviously Aaron’s cherished treasures.

“And please, for their sake, let me have this job. I know I’m right for it. For them. Help Mr. Petrowski know that, too.”

“Could this be it?” Aaron stepped from his SUV into the parking lot of a run-down motel in the bad part of town. The sort of shady that had nothing to do with trees.

One of the unit doors opened. Sarah, dressed in a gaudy top and worn jeans, stepped out. “Hi there.”

“Hi.” He held out the phone and tried not to balk at the horrific attire. “Here’s the evidence.”

She laughed and stepped forward, reaching. Their hands brushed with the transference of the cell.

He paused, endeared at how her cheeks matched the color of her pink shirt beneath the V-neck of her old, Army tent-looking sweater. One that looked as if it had waged a war and lost. Still experiencing a zing in his fingers, he shoved his hands in his pockets at the same time as she fumbled her phone into hers.

“So,” they said simultaneously, then laughed.

“You live in a motel?” Aaron rocked back on his heels to view the buzzing sign, missing the first and last letters. “Or should I say an ‘ote’?”

Her shy smile faded. But only for a second. “For now. It’s a lot nicer inside than the outside looks.”

He peered around the neglected neighborhood. Same area where Celia Munez, now Peña, wife of team member Manny, lost her first husband. He was killed here during a drug bust years prior to her meeting Manny. The team had talked of ways to reach out to the area’s gang-prone teens and their families.

“This isn’t exactly the safest part of town.”

“I figured that out. I plan to get a better place. I just wanted to wait until…”

Her voice trailed but he knew her thoughts. She wanted to wait to see if she got this position as his boys’ nanny, for if she did, she’d have a place to live. But until he was one hundred percent certain she was it, he couldn’t give her false hope. Still, he hated for a young woman like her to be living in a place like this.

“I’m sure you’ll find something better soon.” He offered a reassuring smile.

She studied his face, then nodded. Yet her uncertain expression suggested she held doubt over getting the job.

Throat cleared, he hesitated a moment, deciding how best to word this. “I’m not that good at telling people how I feel. I’m better at giving orders and controlling insubordination.” He cleared his throat again. “But I just wanted to say thanks.”

“For?”

“Yesterday. I’ve never seen my children laugh that hard for that long. Ever.”

She looked momentarily disturbed. Same way he felt.

“Whatever you brought to our home that day, Sarah, don’t ever lose that in your life. No matter how things work out with us, I mean, with this job.”

She nodded. He was surprised to see moisture sheen her eyes. He stuffed his hands deeper in his pockets to keep from tending to the lone tear streaking down her face. The back of her hand swiped it away like a pesky mosquito. Fidgety, she gathered gobs of that overgrown eyesore of a sweater and twisted its hem in her small hands. Her frazzled mood matched the sweater. She didn’t seem the type to cry. So why did she?

He shifted his feet, which ached to go to her. “What did I say that upset you?”

Her shoulders rose then drooped. “It just seemed the kind of speech a person gets before they get let go, is all.”

Did she not know? Letting her go was the last thing on his mind right now. Seeing her luminous eyes and lips swollen with emotion and the way moonlight played with hair as shiny as gold…

He swallowed. “I have no reason to think you won’t get the job. But I also live under the logic that if something seems too good to be true, it probably is.”

She gave an unexpected laugh. “In other words, you’re looking for my fatal flaw?”

“Guess so. I like your bluntness, by the way.”

“I prefer to think of it as transparency.” Her smile faded and her eyes dimmed. “I am flawed, Aaron. But I’ve learned and grown from the mistakes of my youth. Some really big mistakes.”

“We all have.” He shifted. “And you’re still young.”

“Which means I’ll make more mistakes?”

“No, I meant that…I guess I’m not sure what I meant.”

“If you choose to trust me, you won’t be sorry. But if this isn’t meant to be, then there’s someone better for your family. Trust your judgment.”

He nodded, amazed at the level of wisdom riding her young words and the power of conviction driving them. Whether she ended up being their nanny or not, this was an extraordinary woman. One he’d not soon forget if things didn’t work out.

“Now, get back to those beautiful boys and watch them sleep. Give Mina my regards.” She stepped back toward the concrete landing that ran flush with the drab units.

At the sudden proximal distance, Aaron experienced a dip of disappointment. Surprised himself with acknowledgment that once here, he didn’t want to leave her presence.

The way she paused and tapped her toe on rotting boards meant to be someone’s lame attempt at landscaping, maybe she felt the same.

September’s late evening breeze lifted silken hair off slender shoulders and swirled fallen multicolored leaves behind her. Stepping away from the wood and onto the gravel lot toward him again, she rubbed her arms. “Chilly for fall.”

“I think we’re expecting a harsh winter. I should let you get inside out of the cold. Again, sorry about the phone.”

“No need to apologize. I understand.”

He backed up a step and tried to think of something intelligent to say to exit the conversation, but his brain felt first-date awkward. Weird. “So, I’ll be in touch.”

“I hope so.”

Aaron turned to go with her softly spoken words streaming across his heart, slipping past barriers he’d spent years steel-bolting against such feminine wiles. Yet he was certain she had no idea the effect she stirred in him. How her voice melted the metal off the chains around his heart. Guileless. Words issued one breath beyond a whisper. Yet her honesty gushed. And it echoed his thoughts right now.

I hope so, too.

At the concrete bumper near the gravel lot, he paused to look over his shoulder.

And found her, arms crossed over her belly, watching him. Half hunched over, almost as though in pain.

Yet she smiled. Or tried to, with a dreamy expression she seemed pained to carry.

Why on earth would it hurt someone to dream? To hope?

He knew why.

Because dreams could die when dashed and shattered hope could slice like shards of broken glass.

And suddenly he recognized the look in her eyes.

Because he’d seen it in the mirror every day for years.

The look of a tempest-tossed person who’d been sloshed overboard by life’s most wretched waves and nearly taken out.

He knew his.

What had been her storm?

And why was he standing here staring as if desperate to draw it out of her? He became fully cognizant of how Sarah shifted beneath his gaze, as if she was growing uncomfortable under the weight of it.

Yet she didn’t look away either.

What on earth was this sea-size magnetic pull?

And would it fade? Remain the same? Or grow strong enough to weather life’s storms?

As if sensing the draw, too, Sarah shifted and stepped back—almost stumbled—until sharp edges of moonlight carved her face into shadows.

With a slightly awkward wave, she turned. Jogged up the steps.

But he remained.

She all but melted into the safety of her open door, yet didn’t close it. Nervous fingers tugging at frayed ends of the multicolored hobo sweater’s sleeves, she faced him again.

He nodded at her and turned to go. And was immediately accosted by a revelation that suggested an old war-torn Army tent never looked so good. Thoughts and images assaulted his every step. Even that bulky, unattractive sweater hadn’t been able to hide her physical beauty, which he felt guilty to find so appealing.

There was something refreshing and attractive about a courageous woman. One who said how she felt and what she thought and didn’t waver on what she wanted. Or feel the need to hide the fact from others.

And just as soon as his mouth caught up to his brain and figured out how to execute speech again, he’d tell Sarah so.

And another thing…Aaron issued himself mental reprimands while crunching across loose gravel. When she’d said she hoped so, his mind took it the wrong way. Clearly, she wanted to be a nanny to his boys. And clearly her statement had nothing to do with her hoping on a personal level that he’d be in touch.

Right?

At his SUV, he turned to wave, and caught the bolts of attraction flashing back and forth between them. Okay, so maybe he hadn’t imagined it. Maybe this fizzing connection did run both ways.

Which could be detrimental to them all. Especially his boys, should they get attached and Sarah bail if something went awry. Aaron eyed the neighborhood, then intently held her gaze.

“It isn’t safe, Sarah. Please lock your doors.”

And those of your heart.

Better for us both that way.