Читать книгу Their Baby Blessing - Heidi McCahan - Страница 14

She shouldn’t have invited Gage over.

A dull ache throbbed at Skye’s temples, and she’d snapped at Mom more than once this afternoon. The thought of allowing a man they’d just met into their home—into Connor’s life—sent a shiver down her spine. She hurried to fix dinner in Mom’s kitchen, while Connor sat at her feet, babbling as he pulled every single plastic container out of the bottom cabinet drawer.

Caught off guard by Gage’s bold offer at the coffee shop yesterday, and still reeling from her babysitter’s sudden resignation, she’d relented too easily. Her healthy suspicion of strangers had inconveniently vanished, and now, in less than ten minutes, he’d be at the door and she’d have to come up with a compelling reason why she didn’t need his help. His desire to keep his promise to his friend was honorable and all, but she had to consider Connor’s safety, too. What did she really know about Gage?

“There has to be another option,” she muttered, sidestepping Connor to fish the salad-serving tongs out of the drawer.

“Honey, are you all right?” Mom sat at the oval table in the breakfast nook, slicing tomatoes for the garden salad. “You’ve been talking to yourself all afternoon.”

“Yep. Fine. I’ve just got a lot to think about.” Skye skirted the L-shaped counter and set the tongs beside the salad bowl in front of Mom, then quickly pivoted away. She felt her mother’s concerned gaze following her as she turned off the Crock-Pot. Gage and her child care issues paled in comparison to the furniture store’s financial issues she’d stumbled across today. Dad had left a much more convoluted mess than Skye had originally thought. How in the world would she ever bring that up? Mom had endured so much already.

“That’s a real shame about Bethany and her family moving to Phoenix,” Mom said. “She was a wonderful babysitter.”

“I wish she could’ve given more notice.” Skye pulled a stack of plates from the cabinet and carried them to the table. “Her timing is the worst.”

“Maybe God has something better in mind. For her and for you.” Mom’s gentle smile and trite observations made Skye bristle.

“You don’t believe that’s true.”

“I didn’t say that.” Skye swiped her palm across her forehead and turned away to grab napkins and silverware. “It’s just... Never mind.”

Hurt filled Mom’s brown eyes.

Skye clamped her mouth closed, conscious of poking holes in Mom’s beliefs. Even though they were once her beliefs, too, she sure had a lot of doubts lately about what God must have in mind for her. For McKenna and Connor, too.

“I’m worried. I—I don’t know what we’re going to do without Bethany.”

Without a lot of things. Skye kept her lengthy list of worries to herself while she struggled to tamp down the anxious feelings twisting her up inside. If the business was in worse shape financially than she’d thought, and she had to hire a full-time babysitter for Connor while she tried to save the furniture store, her own personal savings account would dwindle quickly. Both of her brothers said they were committed to helping, but neither of them were prepared to financially support Mom, either.

“We’ve certainly endured quite a few surprises lately,” Mom said quietly.

Connor squealed and banged two plastic measuring cups together, then held one out for her, accompanied by a toothy smile. Grateful his outburst might’ve saved her from discussing her waning faith, Skye leaned over and smoothed a wisp of his pale blond hair across his forehead.

“No, thanks. That’s for you.” When she pulled away without taking the measuring cup, his blue eyes filled with tears and his expression crumpled.

While his cries grew louder, Skye quickly glanced at the timer beside the oven. In two minutes, the rolls needed to come out. The stew in the Crock-Pot was ready, but there weren’t drinks in the glasses yet, and she hadn’t prepared anything for Connor to eat. Still so much to do before Gage arrived, and Mom wasn’t mobile enough to carry hot dishes to the table. Letting him sit there and cry wasn’t okay, either.

“C’mon, let’s move to the living room and play with some trucks. Your favorite.” She scooped him up and carried him into the living room, where his toys were still scattered across the beige carpet.

“Anything I can do?” Mom asked.

“I’ve got it.” Skye set him on the floor and pushed a plastic truck and some blocks toward him, but Connor only screamed louder, while his face deepened to a shade of pink she hadn’t seen before in his previous tantrums.

“Wow.” Skye glanced at Mom over her shoulder. “He’s really angry.”

“He’ll calm down in a minute.” Her mom braced against the table and pushed to a stand. “Let me—”

“No, don’t get up.” Skye hurried to her side and grasped her elbow. “I said I’ve got it. What do you need?”

“Honey, Dr. Bradley said I’m supposed to be walking short distances.” Mom raised her voice to be heard above Connor’s wailing. “There’s no reason for me to sit here while you wear yourself out. I can at least carry a few things to the table.”

Skye opened her mouth to argue, but the timer rang, reminding her that if she had any hope of getting the meal on the table, she’d have to relent and let her mother help a little bit.

“All right. I’ll set the table while you get the rolls out of the oven.”

“Deal.” Mom patted Skye’s arm and then moved slowly toward the kitchen.

“Oh, look at this.” Skye brought Connor a bright-colored shape sorter from the toy bin beside the sofa, and thankfully he dialed back his cries to a pathetic whimper. While he examined the plastic shapes inside the rectangular box, Skye hurried to put plates and silverware on the table.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. No. A jolt of adrenaline zinged through her. She wasn’t ready. She tucked a strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear and glanced at her plaid button-down shirt and favorite skinny jeans. She’d meant to change before Gage—

Wait. Why did it matter how she looked? A relationship with him apart from their shared interest in Connor wasn’t even on her radar.

She opened the door and Gage stood on the other side. His sandy-blond hair gleamed in the light from the porch, and the skin beside his hazel eyes crinkled when he smiled. A stunning smile that she was working hard not to stare at right now.

“Hey.” That voice. Deep. Confident. Smooth. How could one simple word make her heart pound so easily?

Great. While most normal humans might return his casual greeting, Skye couldn’t find her words. Or ignore Gage’s shoulders, which seemed broader than she remembered. Or was it the green winter jacket that added bulk? Instead of speaking, all she could think about was how that shade of green emphasized the flecks in his eyes and—

“Skye?” Gage’s brow arched. “You did say five thirty, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, hi. Sorry, I was, uh...” Just thinking about your amazing shoulders and gorgeous eyes.

Oh brother. Warmth rushed to her face. “Please, come in.”

She stepped back and pulled the door wide, while another wave of anxiety washed over her. Was she doing the right thing—allowing Gage to meet Connor? He’d been through so much in his first year of life. Introducing another stranger, even one with the best of intentions, made her uneasy.

* * *

The aroma of something delicious—soup, maybe—enveloped Gage as he toed off his boots inside the Tomlinsons’ front door. Definitely smelled more appealing than the canned chili he’d planned to fix for himself.

“Thanks for coming.” Skye took his jacket, and his heart skittered at the way those pink lips of hers curved into a tentative smile.

He quickly banished those thoughts. “No problem.”

“Hello, you must be Gage.” A petite woman with salt-and-pepper curls and wearing black pants and a red blouse walked slowly from the kitchen to the nearby table, her eyes focused on a small basket balanced precariously in her hands.

“That’s my mother, Rhonda Tomlinson,” Skye said.

Before Gage could respond, Connor squealed so loud that Skye winced. “That’s Connor’s way of welcoming you.”

Gage glanced at the little boy sitting in the middle of the living room floor, and his breath hitched. He’d recognize those blue eyes anywhere. They were a carbon copy of Ryan’s. He swallowed hard and glanced at Skye again. “Mind if I say hello?”

“Please do.” Something undecipherable flashed across Skye’s features. “Dinner will be ready in a minute.”

Gage approached slowly and sank onto the beige shag carpet. “What’s up, little dude?”

Connor stared at him, wide-eyed, then babbled a string of unintelligible words while offering Gage an orange plastic dump truck.

“Thanks.” Gage gently took the truck and drove it across the carpet and up Connor’s leg, while making the appropriate truck noises.

Connor giggled and playfully pushed Gage’s hand away.

Gage’s heart expanded at the bubbly sound of Connor’s laugh, and he drove the truck along Connor’s gray sweatpants again, making him laugh louder. This time Gage laughed right along with him, and they repeated the cycle. He quickly surveyed his surroundings—casual furnishings, floral curtains framing the windows, and shelves nearby lined with books and knickknacks indicated the Tomlinsons lived comfortably but didn’t seem pretentious.

Feeling the weight of their stares, Gage glanced up to see Mrs. Tomlinson and Skye watching him, their mouths open.

Uh-oh. What had he done? “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s amazing.” Skye’s smooth brow furrowed. “We just haven’t heard him laugh that much before.”

Oh. Gage shifted his focus back to Connor. How sad. “He’s got a great laugh. I’d want to hear more, too.”

While Skye and her mother put dishes on the table, Connor offered Gage more of his toys, coupled with enthusiastic sounds, and Gage admired each car, plastic tool and rattle.

“I hate to interrupt the fun,” Skye said, “but dinner is ready.”

“All right.” Gage stood, and Connor’s lower lip wobbled.

Oh no. Gage hesitated. He’d made the kid cry already.

Connor’s expression crumpled, and he stretched both arms toward Gage as if asking to be held. What should he do? He’d made his promise to Ryan without ever spending much time around children. Especially babies.

Gage shot Skye a panicked look.

Skye gave him a sympathetic smile. “That means he likes you and wants to keep playing. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll put Connor in his high chair?”

So this crying was good? “Let’s eat, bud.” Gage angled his head toward the dining room table. Connor’s response was a painful cry that knifed at Gage’s heart. He groaned inwardly at his ignorant assumption that such a young child would make the transition to his high chair without complaint. Man, he had a lot to learn if he was going to make good on his commitment. What if Skye realized how inexperienced he was and refused to let him spend time with Connor?

Mrs. Tomlinson had already sat down. Gage waited until Skye had scooped Connor up and carried him to his high chair. The little boy arched his back and screeched, making it difficult for Skye to secure the harness and buckles.

“Wow.” Gage grimaced. He might not be able to talk, but he’d made his preferences quite clear.

“He keeps us on our toes.” Mrs. Tomlinson shook her head while Skye finally buckled Connor in and latched the white plastic tray in place. She straightened, her cheeks flushed, and claimed her place across from Gage.

“He’ll calm down in a minute.” Skye reached for her napkin. “Would you like to ask the blessing, Mom?”

Connor cried the whole time Mrs. Tomlinson prayed, drowning out most of what she said.

When she’d finished, Gage surveyed the meal. A basket of dinner rolls, green salad and a generous helping of beef stew in his bowl made his mouth water. He glanced at Connor. “Are you ready to eat?”

Connor paused his tirade long enough to consider Gage’s question.

“Can he have some bread?” Gage asked Skye. He really had no idea what babies Connor’s age could eat.

“Sure. If he throws it, he may not have any more, though.” Skye fired a warning glance in Connor’s direction.

“Got it.” No roll tossing at the table. Although it did sound a little fun.

Gage took a roll from the basket and pinched a small bite to share with Connor. “Here.” He set it on the tray. “This bread looks yummy.” His voice sounded goofy. And when was the last time he’d used the word yummy? He didn’t dare look Skye’s way.

Connor picked up the bread and popped it in his mouth.

Then his blue eyes widened, and he pointed toward the basket of rolls, while he bounced up and down against the high chair’s vinyl cushion.

“Is it okay if he has more?” Gage asked.

Skye nodded, and he split another roll into chunks and handed it over. Connor gobbled it down as quickly as he could.

While Gage had anticipated the conversation might revolve around his reasons for moving to Merritt’s Crossing, there wasn’t much time to formulate a complete sentence. Once Connor realized Gage was willing to share from his plate, the little boy ate like he was a bottomless pit. Between putting food on the tray and trying to finish his own meal, dinner was almost over, and they hadn’t had a chance to talk at all.

“You wouldn’t know it by the way he’s eating, but I promise we feed him on a regular basis. Or at least we try to.” Mrs. Tomlinson scraped her own bowl clean. “Maybe you’re our secret weapon, Gage.”

“I don’t know about that.” Gage speared a bite of meat with his fork. “He’s definitely got an appetite tonight.”

A few minutes later, Connor shoved the chunks of carrots aside and rubbed his eyes with his fist.

“Yikes.” Skye pushed back her chair. “I think he’s about to melt down. Let me get him cleaned up before he rubs food in his hair.”

“Is that usually what happens?” Gage asked.

“Sometimes.” Mrs. Tomlinson chuckled. “We’re not always great at figuring out when he’s had enough.”

Skye returned from the sink with a dishcloth in her hand. “I hadn’t planned on giving him a bath tonight.” She quickly wiped his fingers and his face while he did his best to squirm away.

Gage stifled a laugh. This kid had a strong will. Reminded him a lot of Ryan. The comparison felt like a gut punch, and his amusement vanished.

“Are you okay?” Mrs. Tomlinson reached over and patted Gage’s arm. “You look sad all of a sudden.”

How much to share? He’d already told Skye he wanted to be involved in Connor’s life. Gage rubbed his fingertips along his jaw. “I hate that Ryan didn’t get a chance to meet his son, you know?”

Mrs. Tomlinson’s eyes filled with empathy. “We wish things were different, too. I’m sure Skye told you we don’t know if McKenna will return. Maybe God brought you into our lives for a reason.”

“Mom—” Skye shot her mother a warning glance.

“It’s true, whether you choose to believe it or not.” Mrs. Tomlinson frowned at her daughter. “We don’t know if she’ll come back. What if she doesn’t? Gage’s connection to Connor’s father isn’t a coincidence.”

Skye lowered Connor to the floor. He quickly crawled across the carpet to the toys he’d played with before dinner.

Gage tried to assess Skye’s reaction to her mother’s feelings. She seemed like she had a lot going on in her life. He didn’t dare ask, but did she really plan on caring for Connor on her own if his mother wasn’t willing or able to care for him?

“Like I said yesterday, I’m finishing my certification through the wind energy technician program at the community college. I’ll start the hands-on training soon, and until I’m placed in a full-time position, I have a flexible schedule.”

“See?” Mrs. Tomlinson beamed at her daughter. “A flexible schedule. That’s exactly what we need.”

Skye sank into her chair. Uncertainty was written all over her face. She sighed. “Can you come over tomorrow afternoon? From three to five thirty?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay. I’ll leave a list of instructions for you. Mom will be here, too, just in case.”

Gage ducked his head and suppressed a smile. Her subtext was not lost on him. Just in case you’re a lousy babysitter.

“Now that we have that worked out, how about dessert?” Mrs. Tomlinson asked.

“I think I’ll pass.” Gage pushed back his chair and stood. “I still have some unpacking to do, and a test to study for.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” Mrs. Tomlinson frowned. “Would you like to take some brownies home? Or maybe the leftover stew?”

“No, thank you.” He didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Skye’s body language indicated she wasn’t thrilled about what just happened, and he wanted to go before she changed her mind about tomorrow. “It was delicious, though.”

“I’ll walk you out.” Skye crossed to the front door, pausing to pick Connor up and wedge him on her hip. He immediately gave her a sleepy smile and grabbed a chunk of her ponytail in his chubby fist.

She gently extracted her hair from Connor’s hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Gage looked away and jammed his feet into his boots. So she wasn’t a total ice queen. Maybe she was too stressed and overwhelmed. Or just not a fan of him dropping into her life unannounced? She’d mentioned her concerns about someone calling social services. Did she think he was going to try to take Connor from her?

Something told him now was not the time to offer reassurances. He put on his jacket and paused, one hand on the doorknob, and dared to look at her one more time. “Thanks for giving me a chance.”

“Don’t let me down.”

Wow. Okay. “See you soon.”

“Good night.”

He stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door closed behind him. Staring up into the night sky, his breath puffing in little white clouds, he silently offered a prayer for guidance.

I’m off to a shaky start here, Lord.

When he set out to find McKenna and her baby, he never anticipated meeting Skye. And no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t ignore his initial attraction to her. Not that it mattered. She was downright frigid tonight and clearly didn’t like strangers, no matter how honorable their intentions. She’d probably only asked for his help because her mom coaxed her and she was desperate. But he couldn’t let her attitude discourage him. He owed it to Ryan to keep his promise.