Читать книгу Come Fly With Me...: English Girl in New York / Moonlight in Paris - Фиона Бранд - Страница 15

CHAPTER EIGHT

BY NOW DAN should have been a crumpled heap on the floor. He’d spent most of last night walking the floor with a sometimes whimpering, sometimes screaming baby. At one point he’d put Abraham back in the crib and gone to stand in the kitchen for a few minutes to catch his breath.

But from the moment Carrie had appeared, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after a good night’s sleep, he’d felt instantly invigorated.

There was something about her brown curls, blue eyes and flash of skin that was slowly but surely driving him crazy.

And now he knew.

Now he understood.

Well, not entirely. God willing he’d never really understand what it felt like to lose a child. But at least now he had an explanation for the shadows beneath her eyes. The moments of panic that he’d seen and recognised. Her abruptness. Her lack of confidence in herself.

What he couldn’t understand was why Carrie couldn’t see what he could see. A remarkably caring and competent woman who seemed to have a real empathy with this little baby.

For some reason Carrie’s news reassured him a little. He’d known there was something wrong but hadn’t quite been able to put his finger on it. His instincts told him she was a good person and not a crazed baby-snatcher or madly unstable.

Carrie McKenzie was probably the bravest woman he’d ever met. And that included his grandmother.

She’d put the needs of this little baby—a child she didn’t know—before her own needs, even though it was apparent at times her heart was clearly breaking. How many other people did he know who could have done this?

A smile danced across his lips as he remembered her reaction to Shana’s ‘suck it up’ comment. No wonder she’d been so horrified.

This was truly her worst nightmare and she’d just lived through thirty-odd hours of it, with only a few minor hiccups along the way.

He’d been right to let her sleep. It seemed to have given her new strength and the confidence to share. And he was glad she’d shared.

He’d just resisted the temptation to gather her into his arms and try to take her pain away. Because something told him this was all new for her. Sharing about this was all new for her, and he had to let her go at her own pace.

And while it seemed the most unlikely solution, holding Abraham had seemed to give her comfort at that moment. Which was why he’d resorted to the smallest movement—the hand squeeze—to show his support.

What did this mean now for them?

Now that she’d shared he’d given her the opportunity to walk away. To stop making things so hard on herself. But she was determined to stay and help. And his sense of relief was overwhelming. If left to himself, he was sure he could muddle through. But having someone else there—even a little reluctantly—was more help than she could imagine.

As for the kiss?

How much was Carrie ready to move on?

Because being in a confined space with her was going to drive him crazy—in a good way. Now that he’d tasted her sweet lips and felt the warmth of her body next to his it just made him crave her all the more.

Carrie wasn’t like any other woman that he’d met.

Girls in New York weren’t shy. Reserved was an extinct term around here.

He was used to women throwing themselves at him, in pursuit of either a relationship or something far hotter.

It was just the way of the world these days.

But truth be told, it wasn’t really Dan’s world. It wasn’t really the family values his grandmother had brought him up with. They, in themselves, were almost laughable. His mother certainly hadn’t had any family values—no matter what her family had taught her. And that had reflected badly on Dan.

His grandmother had patched him up, fought fiercely for him and his mother’s name was never mentioned in the house again.

And that was fine with him. For years she haunted his dreams most nights anyway.

But Carrie McKenzie, with her too-blue eyes and quiet nature, was slowly but surely getting under his skin in a way no other woman had.

It was clear there were some aspects of life they disagreed on. But did that mean it would be pointless to pursue anything else? Dan wasn’t sure. He still had his own demons to deal with. And the situation with Abraham was only heightening a whole host of emotions he’d buried for so long.

His stomach grumbled loudly just as Carrie burst back through the door, wearing a pink shirt and jeans, her hair tied up in a loose knot. She laughed at the sound of his stomach. ‘You called?’

He nodded at her hands that were clutched to her chest holding a jar of lemon marmalade. ‘It’s getting to the stage I won’t even fight you about the toast and marmalade. You’ve starved me so long I’m ready to concede.’ He walked over to the crib and laid Abraham back down.

She strode over to the toaster and slid the last of the bread into place. ‘I’ll concede on one thing. I’ll make you coffee instead of tea—but only since you had such a bad night. I might make some scones this afternoon and make you drink tea, then.’

He felt his ears literally prick up. The cupboards’ supplies were getting low—even though it had only been a few days. The cakes yesterday had been a real boost. Scones today? Even better.

‘I’ve never really had the scone things. What do you have them with?’

She shrugged. ‘It should be jam and cream, but jam and butter will do. Do you want fruit scones or plain?’

He rolled his eyes upwards. ‘I take it bacon’s not an option?’ He smiled at the horrified expression on her face. ‘You’ve got a secret stash of dried fruit up there, too?’

She put her hand on her hip and gave him a sassy look. ‘I’ve got a whole host of things you know nothing about up there.’

He let out a stream of air through his lips. ‘Woman, you’re going to drive me crazy.’

The toast popped behind her and she started spreading butter and marmalade, pulled out two plates and mugs and finished making breakfast in record time.

It was almost as if Abraham had an inbuilt antenna. As soon as Carrie’s backside hovered above the chair he started to grizzle in his crib. She glanced at the clock. ‘When did he have his last feed?’

Dan looked at his watch. ‘I think it was around four. This little guy is like clockwork. He couldn’t possibly let it go any more than four hours.’

‘It must be my turn to feed him. Let me make up a bottle.’ She picked out the bottle and teat from the sterilising solution and measured out the formula. ‘I wish we could get some more of the ready-made formula. It’s so much easier.’ She peered into the contents of the formula tub. ‘How many bottles does this make? I know it’s only a small can but it seems to be going down mighty quickly.’ She turned back to face him.

Dan wasn’t listening. He was staring at the toast and lemon marmalade as if it had sprouted legs and run across the floor.

‘Dan? Dan? What’s wrong.’

He took another bite of the toast. ‘This is much nicer than I remember. Or maybe it’s just that I’m so hungry that I would eat anything.’ He stared at the toast. ‘I always thought marmalade was—you know—yeuch.’ He let a shiver go down his spine. ‘I don’t remember it tasting like this.’

She gave him a smile. ‘It’s one of my secrets. You probably had orange marmalade as a child. I don’t like it, either. This is much nicer, made with lemons. I brought it with me from London.’

He narrowed his eyes. ‘Where do you keep the jar?’

She tapped the side of her nose. ‘Aha, that’s a secret. You’ll never make me tell.’

‘Never?’ He stood up, his chair skidding across the floor and his hands on her hips in an instant. She could hardly even remember him crossing the space.

Oh, no. Those come-to-bed eyes again. The kind that gave her ideas she really shouldn’t be having at this time of day.

He didn’t wait. He didn’t ask. He just claimed her lips as his own. His hand coming up and cupping her cheek. There was an element of ownership in his actions.

But the strange thing was, instead of being annoying, it sent little sparks of heat all the way down to the tips of her toes.

The past year had been lonely. The past year had been more than lonely. The past year had been dark and bleak and, at times, scary.

Sometimes she felt as if the black cloud around her would never lift, no matter how hard she tried.

For the first time she was feeling something other than despair. Other than hopelessness.

Maybe her senses were overreacting. Maybe it had just been too long since she’d been in a position like this, where her hormones couldn’t keep themselves in check.

All she knew was she wanted Daniel Cooper’s lips on hers. She wanted Daniel Cooper pressed up against her. She wanted to feel his arms around her body, touching her skin, stroking her cheek...

She wound her arms around his neck as his hands found their way to the bare skin at the small of her back. Would his fingers creep any lower? Or any higher? She wasn’t quite sure which way she wanted them to go.

There was a howl from the corner of the room and they jerked apart instantly.

Baby. There was a baby in the room. She made to move towards the crib. ‘Don’t. I’ll do it,’ he said, his hands still pressed firmly against her hips.

‘But you did all of last night.’ She touched his shoulder. ‘You’re exhausted, Dan. You really should get some sleep.’

He nodded. ‘And I will, as soon as you’ve eaten. You haven’t had a chance yet. Finish breakfast, then come and take over from me.’

She eyed her toast with oodles of butter and marmalade and her steaming-hot cup of tea. How long would it take her? Five minutes? Then she could take over from Dan for a good part of the day.

From the shadows under his eyes it was clear that he needed a few hours’ sleep. Could she cope with Abraham on her own for a few hours?

No matter how hard she was trying here, the thought still struck fear in her heart. What if something happened? What if she did something wrong?

The truth was she felt safer when Dan was around. Even though he told her she was doing a great job she wasn’t sure she wanted to do it alone.

One of the little cardigans was hanging on the side of the crib and the solution was with her in an instant. Of course! That was what she would do. She would take Abraham upstairs to visit Mrs Van Dyke—at least then she wouldn’t be on her own. And even though Mrs Van Dyke was elderly she had lots of experience with babies. She might even be able to give Carrie some tips.

She looked over to the sofa. Dan was already taking the bottle out of Abraham’s mouth. He was feeding really quickly. A thought crossed her mind. ‘Is your internet working yet?’

Dan shrugged his shoulders. He was deep in concentration. ‘Haven’t checked yet. Why?’

‘Do you think there’s any way we could weigh Abraham? Maybe we aren’t giving him enough milk. He always seems to gulp really quickly then gets lots of wind.’

The news anchor was telling the same story over and over again. Wasn’t she wearing that same suit jacket a few days ago? Pictures filled the screen of stranded cars, a collapsed tree in Central Park, aerial shots of all the roads completely covered in snow. More pictures of people being rescued by police and, in some cases, helicopters. It looked as if there had been barely any improvements in the past two days. Her voice was starting to annoy Carrie.

‘Snow ploughs cleared most of New York State Thruway the I-87 this morning, only for the hard work to be destroyed less than three hours later after another record deluge of snow. Some people had been waiting two days to get their cars out of the snowdrifts, only to get snowed back in a few miles down the thruway. Emergency services can’t give an estimate on how much longer it will take to clear the thruway again. They are stressing that people in the area should only travel in emergency cases. Every resource possible is currently being used to try and restore the fluctuating power supplies to the city. Some areas of the city have been without power for more than twenty-four hours. Authorities assure us that all power supplies should be connected in the next twelve hours.’

Dan pointed at the screen. ‘That’s the bad news. Now wait for it—here comes the good news story.’

Carrie turned back to the screen. She definitely had seen that jacket before. Wardrobe at the news station must be as closed down as the rest of New York.

‘And finally, community kitchens are springing up all over New York City. The latest is in Manhattan’s Lower East Side at Sara D. Roosevelt Park and the locals have been enjoying the opportunity to gather somewhere with some hot food and heating.’ The camera shot to children building a giant snowman in the park and several residents holding cups with something steaming hot inside.

‘Wow, that snowman is enormous. There’s no way a kid made that. They couldn’t reach that high.’

‘Do I sense a little snowman envy?’ Dan had an amused expression on his face.

Carrie shrugged. ‘Maybe. Can’t even tell you the last time I made a snowman. I must have been around ten. Back home in London I don’t even have a garden.’

Dan headed over to the back window, juggling Abraham in his arms. It was time for winding again. ‘Most of the apartments around here don’t have gardens. But there are gardens. Have you managed to get to Washington Square Park yet?’

She joined him at the window, looking out over the snow-covered back alley. ‘If I even thought we’d have a chance of making it there I’d ask you to take me.’ She reached over and touched Abraham’s little hand. ‘But we pretty much can’t take this little guy anywhere with no proper clothes, jacket or snowsuit. I guess that means we’re stranded.’

It was the wrong thing to say. Almost as soon as she said the words she wanted to pull them back. She could instantly see Dan’s back and shoulders stiffen, the atmosphere changing around them in a second.

‘I guess the actions of others impact on us all.’

She was still touching Abraham’s hand, letting his little fingers connect with hers. ‘We don’t know, Dan. We don’t know anything.’

He spun around to face her. ‘Of course we do. Look at him. Look at this defenceless little baby. Left out in the cold with hardly any clothes. He could have died out there, Carrie. He could have died.’

‘Don’t. Don’t say that. I don’t even want to think about that. I can’t think about that.’

She stared him down. He had to know how much his words impacted on her. How she couldn’t even bear to think the thoughts he was putting in her head.

‘Why are you so critical, Dan? You must see a whole host of things in your line of work. I thought that would make you more sympathetic to people out there. Not sit as judge and master.’

‘I don’t judge.’ His words were snapped and Abraham flinched at the rise in his voice.

‘Well, I think you do. I think that’s what you’ve done since the second I found Abraham and brought him to you.’

He opened his mouth, obviously ready to hit her with a torrent of abuse. But good sense waylaid him. She could almost see him biting his tongue and it annoyed her. She didn’t want Dan to hide things from her. He should tell her how he really felt. It didn’t matter that they would disagree.

‘Spit it out, Dan.’

‘I don’t think that’s wise.’ His words were growled through clenched teeth.

She walked right up to him, her face directly under his chin. He was angry. She could tell he was angry. But she wasn’t intimidated at all. Dan would never direct his anger at her.

‘So, you can kiss me to death, but you can’t tell me how you feel?’

Dan walked over to the crib, placed Abraham down and raked his hand through his short hair, his hand coming around and scraping at the bristles on his chin. ‘Just leave it, Carrie.’

‘Why? Isn’t it normal to disagree about things? I just can’t understand why the guy who was prepared to risk his life for a bunch of strangers can’t take a minute to show a little compassion to a woman who is clearly desperate.’ She pointed over at the crib. ‘No woman in her right mind would abandon her baby. Not without good reason. I bet she’s lying crying and terrified right now. I bet the past two nights she hasn’t slept a wink with worry over how her son is doing.’

He shook his head. ‘You’re wrong, Carrie. You’re more than wrong. Good people don’t do things like this. Good people don’t abandon their babies or make them suffer. Everyone who has the responsibility for children should put their needs first—before their own.’

She wrinkled her brow. ‘What are you getting at, Dan? What need do you think Abraham’s mother was putting first?’

He couldn’t meet her eyes. He couldn’t look at her. His eyes were fixed either on the floor or the ceiling. He walked towards the window, staring out at the snow-covered street, his hands on his hips. ‘Drugs, Carrie. I think his mother was looking for her next fix.’

Carrie’s hand flew up to her mouth. It hadn’t even occurred to her. It hadn’t even crossed her mind.

Maybe she was too innocent. Maybe she’d lived a sheltered life.

‘No.’ She crossed quickly to the crib and looked down at Abraham. His eyelids were fluttering, as if he was trying to focus on the changing shapes around him. He looked so innocent. So peaceful. The thought of his mother being a drug user horrified Carrie.

She hadn’t lived her life in a plastic bubble. There had been women who clearly had drug problems in the maternity unit next to her’s. But they were in the unit, being monitored for the sake of their babies. Although they had other issues in their lives, their babies’ health was still important to them.

She reached out and stroked Abraham’s skin. It still had the slightest touch of yellow, but these things wouldn’t disappear overnight. Could his mother really have been taking drugs? It was just unimaginable to Carrie.

She felt a little surge of adrenalin rise inside her. ‘No, Dan. No way. It can’t be that. It just can’t be. We would know. Abraham would be showing signs. Drug addicts’ babies show signs of withdrawal, don’t they? If Abraham’s mother was an addict he would be screaming by now.’

‘Hasn’t he screamed the past two nights?’

She shook her head firmly. It didn’t matter that she was no expert. She’d heard enough to know a little of the background. ‘He would be sick, Dan. He would be really sick. And Abraham’s not. Look at him.’ She walked around to the other side of the crib to give Dan a clear view. ‘He’s not sick like that. Sure, he gets hungry and has wind. He pulls his little knees up to his chest. That’s colic. Nothing else. And there are pages and pages on the internet about that.’ She folded her arms across her chest. ‘If we had a baby in withdrawal right now, we’d need Shana to airlift him to the hospital. There’s no two ways about it.’

It was clear from the tight expression on Dan’s face that he wasn’t ready to concede. He wasn’t ready to consider he was wrong.

She could feel her hackles rising. She could feel they were on the precipice of a major argument and she just didn’t want to go there. All her protective vibes were coming out, standing over Abraham like some lioness guarding her cub. But why would she have to guard him against Dan? The man who’d opened his door and welcomed them both in?

She took a deep breath. ‘Dan, you’re tired and you’re cranky. I know what that feels like. Let’s leave this. Go and sleep for a few hours. I’m going to take Abraham upstairs to see Mrs Van Dyke. She’ll be happy to see him and, who knows, she might even give me some tips.’

She could see he still wanted to argue with her but fatigue was eating away at every movement he made. His shoulders were slumped, his muscular frame sagging.

‘Fine. I’ll go to sleep.’ He stalked off towards the bedroom—the bed she’d recently vacated—before he halted and turned around. ‘Mrs Van Dyke, ask her if she needs anything. Anything at all. I can phone Mr Meltzer and go back along to the shop in a few hours and get us some more supplies. We’ll need things for Abraham anyhow.’

There it was. Even in his inner turmoil, the real Dan Cooper could still shine through. He was still thinking about others, still concerned about his elderly neighbour.

She picked up Abraham from the crib, tapping her finger on his button nose and smiling at him.

Just when she thought Dan had gone he appeared at her elbow, bending over and dropping a gentle kiss on Abraham’s forehead.

‘I’m not going to let anything happen to this little guy, Carrie. Nothing at all.’ His words were whispered, but firm, and he turned and walked off to the bedroom, closing the door behind him.