Читать книгу Their Baby Blessing - Heidi McCahan - Страница 15

Please, please let this be the one.

Skye folded her hands behind her back and pasted on a polite smile. Her customers, Mr. and Mrs. Crawford, circled the eight-piece dining room set in the furniture’s showroom for the third time, their brows furrowed.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Mr. Crawford clapped his hand on his wife’s shoulder, while he jangled his loose change with his hand in his other pocket. Skye held her breath, waiting for Mrs. Crawford to answer.

“I just can’t make up my mind. Do you think we can all fit around it for Easter? We’re hosting this year.”

Yes, of course. Skye dug her fingernails into her palm to keep from blurting out a response. She’d actually never visited the Crawfords’ home and had no idea how much space they had in their dining room, but the store’s dismal sales—almost nonexistent this month—could really use a boost.

“It might be a tight squeeze, especially with the credenza, too, but I’m sure we can make it work.” Mr. Crawford gave Skye a reassuring smile, the lines on his weathered face crinkling around his eyes.

She widened her smile, while the tension between her shoulders knotted tighter. Mrs. Crawford did not seem convinced.

“We really love the bedroom set we purchased from your daddy some years ago,” Mrs. Crawford said, running her hand over the oak tabletop. “Now that our son and his wife moved to Fort Collins and took our dining room table and chairs, I’d really like something that will accommodate him and his wife, and of course, any future grandchildren, if our daughter ever gets married...” She trailed off and stepped back as if to gain a better perspective.

“I’m glad you’ve enjoyed your bedroom set.” Skye kept her tone warm. Optimistic. “We always appreciate loyal customers.”

“Your father was a great guy.” Mr. Crawford’s gaze filled with empathy. “We had a good time coaching your brother’s Little League team together all those years. How’s your mom doing?”

Skye swallowed hard, surprised by the emotion unexpectedly rising at the mention of her father’s good works in Merritt’s Crossing. “Mom’s getting by. I guess you heard she’s had knee replacement surgery. The recovery’s tougher than we expected.”

“I can imagine.” Mr. Crawford glanced at his wife, the change in his pocket jangling a little louder. “What do you say, hon? Is this the one or—”

Skye’s phone rang, and she froze. Ignore it? What if it was McKenna? But taking the call meant stepping away from the customers, and she hated for them to think they weren’t important. Quite the opposite, really.

“Go ahead and answer that if you need to, dear.” Mrs. Crawford smiled politely. “We don’t mind.”

“I’ll just be a minute.” Skye crossed the showroom in quick strides to the antique rolltop desk that served as the home base when she couldn’t be in the tiny back office. Business cards, a work space for her laptop and a vase of pink carnations with a sprig of baby’s breath decorated the well-worn surface. Her phone’s screen lit up with the church’s number in the caller ID. Oh no. Her stomach dropped. Connor.

“H-hello?” she said, unable to keep the tremor from her voice.

“Hello, Skye, this is Betty Sanders over at the church. How are you?”

Skye squeezed her eyes shut. A call from the child care director wasn’t a good thing. “I’m fine, Mrs. Sanders. How can I help you?”

“We’ve run into a bit of an issue with Connor this morning. Do you have a few minutes to chat?”

Skye opened her eyes and glanced over her shoulder. Mr. and Mrs. Crawford stood close together near the dining room set, talking quietly. At least they hadn’t left. Yet. “What happened?”

“I’m afraid he bit another child on the arm. As we’ve already discussed, biting is a cause for concern. Since it’s happened two other times, we’re going to have to ask you to leave the Mom’s Morning Out program.”

No, no, no. Skye pressed her hand to her cheek. “I’m sure you’re aware Connor’s had a lot to deal with lately, with his mom...out of town for a while. I mean, he’s not even one yet. Isn’t there a chance he’s just trying to express his frustration—”

“Skye, we can’t allow him to bite. It’s not fair to the other children.”

“But he isn’t trying to be aggressive. He’s never bitten me or my mom or anyone outside the nursery. How do you know he wasn’t provoked?” She knew she was pushing her limit with Mrs. Sanders, but she couldn’t help but try. The Mom’s Morning Out program was her child care lifeline. Without it, she had nothing. Well, nothing except Gage.

“I can assure you he was not provoked,” Mrs. Sanders said, her tone icy. “As the director, I have a responsibility to provide a safe and nurturing environment for all who attend. While it’s a real shame about Connor’s abandonment, I’m not going to excuse his unacceptable behavior.”

Skye bristled at the older woman’s harsh, judgmental tone. She bit her lip and glanced at her customers again.

Mr. and Mrs. Crawford were already halfway to the store’s front door. “We’ll be back,” they whispered.

No! She wanted to run ahead and plant herself in their path, maybe even offer them a discount off the full price. At this point, she wasn’t above begging them to reconsider. She really couldn’t afford to lose this sale.

“Skye?” Mrs. Sanders’s voice grated on her nerves. “Are you still there?”

“Yes, I just—”

“I’ll need you to come pick Connor up immediately.”

“What?” Skye glanced at the oversize wooden clock mounted on the wall, the hands on the distressed finish inching toward eleven o’clock. “I usually don’t pick him up until twelve fifteen.”

“Perhaps I wasn’t explicit enough. He’s being removed from the program. Permanently. I expect to see you here in the next fifteen minutes.”

“But—”

There was no point arguing. Mrs. Sanders had already ended the call. Skye pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it in disbelief. This couldn’t be happening. What was she going to do with an eleven-month-old in a furniture store? Sure, she could set up the portable crib to keep him contained in the back room, but he wouldn’t be content there for more than a few minutes. And he’d never take a nap there, either.

Oh, McKenna. What have you done?

With Connor’s first birthday coming up in a few days, surely her cousin would come home in time to celebrate?

Tears stung her eyes, but Skye refused to fall apart right now. She didn’t have time for a meltdown, and she wouldn’t give Mrs. Sanders the satisfaction of seeing her cry. After hastily scrawling a note indicating the store’s unexpected closure due to a family emergency, she taped it to the glass door on her way out. This was one more reason why sales had to improve—she needed the income to hire additional help.

Another storm had blown in, and fresh snow blanketed the sidewalk in front of the store. She made a mental note to ask Drew to stop by and shovel it after work. Again. Ducking her chin against the flakes swirling around her, Skye trudged to her car parked behind the store, the reality of her circumstances weighting her steps.

A mother who could barely walk, an abandoned baby without a babysitter and her family’s floundering furniture business, not to mention zero resolutions within her grasp.

What about Gage?

She pushed out a laugh at the ridiculous notion. They barely knew anything about him, and he hadn’t even spent a single minute alone with Connor. How could he possibly be the answer to her problems?

* * *

Gage eased his truck into the Tomlinsons’ driveway and turned off the ignition, wishing he could do the same for the anxiety wreaking havoc on his insides. Man, he hadn’t felt this nervous since his first week at sea on the submarine. Sure, he and Connor got along great last night, but they hadn’t been alone. He’d only played with a couple of toys and shared some food at dinner. Skye did most of the work, and she’d intervened when Connor threw a fit.

What if he totally messed this up?

An ache formed in his chest. Yesterday marked one year since Ryan died. He glanced at the picture wedged on his dashboard, the one of him and Ryan on the beach in San Diego that he’d shared with Skye at the coffee shop. After their meeting, he’d tucked the dog-eared photo inside one of the few books he owned, but this morning he’d mustered the courage to retrieve the picture and tuck it into the corner of his dash—a frequent reminder spurring him on to keep his promise.

Pocketing his keys, he climbed out of the truck and slammed the door. Although the snow had stopped falling, several inches coated the driveway, a sedan parked in front of the garage and the steps leading up to the Tomlinsons’ modest rambler. Should he offer to shovel while he was here? Or maybe Skye wanted to take care of that herself, too.

He climbed the steps and the door swung open before he could knock or ring the bell.

“Hey,” Skye greeted him, looking as though she’d stepped out of a corporate boardroom in a long gray dress belted at the waist and stylish black boots. His gaze flitted from her hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head, to her red-rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks. Had she been crying? His chest tightened. Did something happen to Connor?

“Are you all right?”

“Come on in.” She stepped back, ignoring his question. “I didn’t want you to ring the bell. Connor’s still taking a nap.”

Gage stood in the foyer and quickly surveyed his surroundings. The house was quiet, and he didn’t want to do anything that might upset her more. He was also afraid to ask why she wasn’t at the furniture store. Maybe she’d decided she didn’t trust him being there without her supervision after all.

“My mom will be home from her physical therapy appointment soon.” Skye crossed to the table in the breakfast nook, where a can of soda and a bag of chips sat between a laptop and a large calendar. Did she have another job she hadn’t mentioned? He shifted from one foot to the other, and kept his coat and his boots on, worried that one wrong move might earn him an icy stare.

She slumped into the chair with a sigh, then shot him a look, her smooth brow furrowed. “Why are you just standing there?”

“I’m waiting for my orders.”

“What?”

“My orders. You look stressed. Or busy. Maybe both. If you need to get some work done, I’d be glad to shovel the driveway or something until Connor wakes up.”

“You don’t work for me.” She massaged her forehead with her fingertips. “I’m not going to ask you to shovel my driveway. Or boss you around.”

Okay. He ducked his head to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This was probably not the best time to mention that she’d been bossy since the first second they’d met. He took his time unlacing his boots and hanging his jacket on the rack near the door. How long did a baby sleep anyway? Hopefully not much longer. Gage needed Connor to wake up and save him from Skye and her fragile mood.

He padded in his socks toward the table and slowly eased into the chair across from her. He wasn’t good with females and tears. No matter how hard he tried, he always seemed to say the wrong thing. Did she want to talk about it? She sure didn’t seem like she wanted his help. While he racked his brain for something safe to say, her phone chimed, and she pounced on it. She swiped at the screen, her eyes quickly scanning, and then she flung the phone back on the table in disgust.

Oh boy. Gage wiped his sweaty palms on the legs of his jeans and braced for a fresh wave of tears.

“Perfect. Just perfect.” She glared daggers at the phone and shook her head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Connor got kicked out of the church day care today.”

Well. That explained a few things. “Why?”

“Bit another child. Third offense. They made me pick him up early.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she whispered.

Please, please don’t cry. Gage’s knee bounced up and down under the table, and he scrambled for a pragmatic solution to get in front of her impending meltdown. “Can you appeal the decision?”

“Tried that. The senior pastor just texted me and said the director of the program has the final say.” Skye reached for her phone again. “I really need to find someone who can watch Connor on a consistent basis. Most of the time he still takes two naps, so it’s just a few hours each day—and only until Mom gets some of her mobility back. I’ve called everyone I can think of, though.”

You haven’t asked me. Gage clamped his mouth shut. What would she say if he offered?

She frowned, shaking her head as she scrolled some more. “Mom wants me to hire someone to manage the store so I can stay with Connor, but we just don’t have any wiggle room in the budget...” She heaved another sigh. “And I don’t have the heart to tell her about our financial situation right now, on top of everything else she’s dealing with.”

Her troubled gaze toggled to him. “Sorry to dump all this on you. Probably way more than you wanted to know.”

Not true. He did want to know because he honestly wanted to help, and although the sheen of moisture in her beautiful blue eyes had subsided, he was going to tread lightly. She seemed guarded—suspicious, even—of his intentions. He really didn’t want to blow his chance at being in Connor’s life, or risk ignoring his pledge to Ryan. And what if word got out of Connor’s situation and someone called social services?

Adrenaline slammed into him at the mental images that scenario conjured.

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you thinking?”

He shifted in his chair. Here goes nothing. “I—I know you’re in a bind, and I totally get that you might have issues with accepting help from strangers—”

“I do not.”

Really? Gage silently cocked an eyebrow.

She ducked her chin. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“My schedule is flexible until I start the practical portion of my training, and I’d be glad to stay with Connor whenever you need me to.”

She picked at her thumbnail and avoided his gaze. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

The sound of Connor crying came through the baby monitor resting on the kitchen counter nearby.

Lousy timing, kiddo. Gage studied her, hoping she wouldn’t use that as an opportune time to escape the conversation.

“I’d better get him.” Skye’s phone chimed again, and she picked it up, glanced at the screen, then pushed to her feet and hurried down the hallway.

“Skye—”

She didn’t turn back, and a minute later, he listened through the monitor as she spoke to Connor and his crying ceased.

Gage tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. No, he didn’t have any experience with babies. Or children at all, really. His brief stints in and out of temporary foster care placement had left a scar, though, and he couldn’t fathom letting Connor grow up without consistent, stable male role models.

He smoothed his hand over his close-cropped hair and silently prayed for the words to change Skye’s mind. Ryan was the closest thing to a brother he’d ever had and being a part of Connor’s world was the only way Gage could express his gratitude for the bond they’d shared.

* * *

No, no, no. Skye’s fingers trembled as she knelt on the floor beside Connor, trying to keep him from wiggling out of reach while she changed his diaper.

While Gage’s story about his connection with Ryan seemed legitimate, and the photo he shared lined up with what little McKenna had shared about Connor’s father, was Gage really the solution to her babysitting needs? What if she accepted his offer and he decided it wasn’t for him? He said he was committed to being involved in Connor’s life, but did he even know what that meant? She’d never forgive herself if Connor was hurt because she’d made a hasty decision. The wounds were still raw from the last time she’d allowed herself to be vulnerable. Suffering the consequences of her poor decisions was one thing, but what if her choices impacted an innocent child, too?

The thought made her stomach churn.

Out in the living room, she heard the front door open and Mom exchanging greetings with Gage. Connor’s eyes followed her as she tossed the diaper in the trash. She pushed to her feet, eager to get back to the other room before Gage had a chance to woo her mother. Connor sucked loudly on his thumb while she lifted him off the floor. “Let’s get a snack, sweet pea.”

She strode down the hallway with Connor in her arms. Mom and Gage sat at the table, talking quietly. What had she missed? Fatigue lined Mom’s face, and Skye cringed inwardly. Although she was probably trying to be a good sport and chat with Gage, Mom normally went straight to the couch and elevated her leg after physical therapy.

“Hi, Mom. How was your appointment?”

Mom gave her a tired smile and reached over to give Connor’s leg a gentle squeeze. “It was all right. My therapist pushed me hard.”

“Would you mind holding him while I fix his snack?” Skye hovered near Mom’s shoulder. She hated to ask her to do anything extra, but maybe Connor wouldn’t cry if he snuggled with Mom.

“For a minute.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m fading fast. Might need a nap before dinner.”

Connor stretched out his arms and leaned toward Gage.

“Do you want to hold him?” Skye couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice.

Gage scooted his chair back. “I’ll try.”

Connor babbled an unintelligible sound and kicked one leg against Skye’s hip, while leaning farther out of her grasp. He wasn’t old enough to use words yet, but she understood his body language. She gently passed him to Gage, acutely aware of the warmth of Gage’s fingers brushing against hers.

Skye avoided eye contact and moved past him to the kitchen, wishing there was a wall or a cabinet or anything to block her view of Gage, with his powder blue long-sleeve shirt hugging the defined curves of his muscular arms, cautiously holding Connor like he was the most fragile thing in the world. A telltale flutter in her midsection made her deliberately turn away and take her sweet time rummaging in the pantry for a container of the puffed-rice snacks Connor loved.

That was the last thing she needed—succumbing to the image of this strong, competent man riding in like some fairy-tale hero to rescue the damsel in distress.

She wasn’t in distress. Okay, maybe she had a little bit going on in her life, but she didn’t need him to rescue her.

“Gage was just telling me he might be the solution to your child care dilemma,” Mom said, her tone hinting that she was completely on board with the idea.

The round metal container slipped from Skye’s hands and rolled across the hardwood. Blood pounded in her ears as she chased after it. Gage was watching her—she could feel the weight of those gorgeous hazel eyes tracking her. Did he sense her apprehension?

She straightened, just in time to catch Connor looking up at Gage, his little hand exploring his face, and his pudgy cheeks scrunched in an adoring smile.

Oh brother. Don’t tell me you’re captivated, too.

“We didn’t get a chance to discuss it.”

Mom shot her a look. “What’s to discuss? You need someone consistent and reliable, with flexibility in their schedule. And I’ll be here to advise Gage on what to do.”

But what about long-term? What kind of impact would Gage’s role in Connor’s life have? She bit her lip and stole another glance at Connor. He babbled and cooed, his fingers meandering around Gage’s angular jaw. When Gage mimicked a playful bite toward Connor’s hand, the little boy’s belly laugh made Skye’s breath catch.

Mom caught her staring and arched a brow as if to say, See?

Skye averted her gaze and poured the rice puffs into a small plastic bowl, then carried it to the table.

“I know you wanted Connor to spend time with other children, but given his history with biting, and as long as he’s still taking two naps, maybe keeping him here is the best thing for now. Gage can come by for a few hours. Between the two of us, we—”

“All right.” Exasperated, Skye cut her off. “Point taken.”

Connor stopped jabbering and stared at her, his lower lip pooched out. Gage and Mom both glanced at her, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry.” She softened her tone as she set the bowl on the table in front of Gage and Connor. “That sounded harsh.”

An awkward silence blanketed them, and she returned to the kitchen to put some water in a sippy cup for Connor, her face flaming. Again. She only wanted to do what was best for Connor, but now she felt like the irrational one. How did that happen?

“I think what Skye is trying to convey is that we weren’t really prepared for any of this,” Mom said. “McKenna has always been wild and impulsive, but she didn’t give us any indication that she planned to leave him. Once she settled in here, she seemed content. But now that she’s gone, we want to make sure we do the right thing. Between caring for Connor, the store and my surgery... This is a lot for us to handle.”

Skye felt the tension in her shoulders loosen. There. Ditto, she wanted to say, but that sounded ridiculously inadequate. Not to mention childish. Gage probably thought she was a mess.

“I totally get it.” Gage’s deep voice was filled with empathy. Compassion. “It’s a radical idea, me coming here, claiming a connection to this child and offering to help. I don’t blame you for being skeptical. I’m glad you’re questioning my intentions.”

This time it was Skye’s turn to stare in disbelief. “You are?”

“Absolutely. You can’t be too careful.” Gage shifted Connor to the crook of his opposite arm. “Let me assure you, again, that I want what’s best for my friend’s son, too.”

“Of course you do.” Her mother reached over and patted his hand. “I’m going to leave you two to iron out the details. I’m beat.”

While Mom stood and slowly worked her way down the hall toward her bedroom, Skye tried to offer Connor the sippy cup, but he pushed her hand away and reached for more of his snack. She sighed and left the cup on the table before circling around to her chair and the calendar she’d abandoned earlier. “Aunt Linda just texted me and said she’d help in a pinch, so I have the next few days covered. How soon can you start?”

“How about next week?”

She hesitated, then picked up her pencil. “Sure, next week is...fine. Is one to five in the afternoon okay?”

“Sounds great.”

She wrote his name and the time on the calendar. “And how about after that?”

“How far out would you like to schedule?”

Her stomach churned as her pencil hovered over the calendar. Were they really doing this? Had she just agreed to let Gage watch Connor as often as he wanted? “H-how about Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday afternoons from one to five for now?”

“Perfect.” She heard the smile in his voice and dragged her gaze to meet his. She wasn’t at all prepared for the gratitude she’d find in those gold-flecked eyes.

“Thank you for giving me a chance to honor my word.” His voice was gritty, emotional this time. “I won’t let you down.”

“Good.” Uncertainty still weighed heavily as she quickly looked away and wrote his name on the dates they’d agreed on. A chance to honor his word? Yes. Not a permanent place in their lives, though. Sure, he’d looked super attractive holding Connor safely in his arms, but clearly it had muddled her thinking. No matter how much Gage’s attentiveness toward Connor tugged at her heartstrings, she had to maintain firm boundaries. Strong men like Gage only used their power to control women, and she wouldn’t allow herself to fall for him.