Читать книгу The 15 Lb. Matchmaker - Jill Limber, Jill Limber - Страница 11

After spending less than twenty-four hours with Riley, Jolie was concerned about the little guy. Maybe he was coming down with something, but he was too quiet.

She needed to talk to Griff tonight. It was already well past dark and Griff Price had not returned to the house. He had left before she’d awakened this morning. Now Riley was almost ready for bed, so that meant a whole day with no contact between father and son.

She suspected Griff was staying away so he wouldn’t have to talk to her.

It was her fault. She should have stayed calm last night instead of closing the door in his face, but she had been so angry she would have said things he wasn’t ready to hear.

He thought the baby was her responsibility. His announcement had told her a lot. Could he actually think he didn’t need to have contact with his son at this point in the child’s life? That a temporary baby-sitter could take the place of both parents?

Into a bowl she put fresh greens from the garden outside the mudroom and glanced down at Riley, who sat quietly on an old towel in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Although Riley watched her all the time, he didn’t make sounds or smile. Jolie knew his eyesight and hearing were okay, she had given him some basic tests and he had responded by following her movements and turning to sounds.

She put the greens aside and took two wooden spoons out of a crock by the stove, placing them on the towel beside the baby.

“Pick them up, Riley. They’re for you. It’s okay to touch them.” She smiled at him, encouraging him with a nod of her head.

Riley looked at the spoons, then back up at her. He didn’t reach for the utensils, just continued to watch her.

She waited for a few moments, and when he didn’t move, she found a set of metal measuring spoons in a drawer, gave them a shake so they all clanked together, then laid them beside the other spoons.

“Don’t they make a fun noise?” she cooed, and bent over him, giving them another shake. “Take them.”

As she dangled the spoons, his gaze lingered for a moment longer on them, then returned to her face. This time she noticed his fingers opened and closed, but he still didn’t reach out.

She laid them down on the towel beside him. “When you’re ready, you pick them up.”

As Jolie returned to dinner preparation, the suspicion that something might be wrong emotionally with Riley tore at her heart.

She had no idea how to tell Griff that she suspected a problem. Her greatest apprehension was that Griff might not care. Could he be that detached from his own child? Or did he already suspect that something might be wrong, and he couldn’t accept a less than perfect child?

She wasn’t trained for this. She needed to take Riley to a pediatrician and get a professional opinion. Babies his age, normal babies, had only two speeds. Full tilt or sound asleep. They explored everything with insatiable curiosity.

Jolie’s hands stilled and she realized she had slipped back into her old way of thinking. There were things she could do, if she had the courage.

For instance, there were no toys in the house, no bright mobiles or wall hangings in his room to catch Riley’s interest.

When she stayed with her cousin’s children, sometimes it took an hour for her and the nanny to pick up their toys and games, even when the maid pitched in.

Perhaps Riley’s problem was a lack of stimulation in his environment. Most children formed an attachment to a special blanket or stuffed toy they had dragged around everywhere they went. He couldn’t do that because he didn’t have anything.

The only time she got any reaction from Riley was when she picked him up. Then he clung to her like a limpet on a rock at the shoreline. The feel of his little hands grabbing her almost broke her heart.

The back door slammed and Griff came into the kitchen through the mudroom.

Riley watched Griff come in, but showed no reaction.

At the other extreme, her pulse leaped at the sight of him. Annoyed at the purely physical reaction the man evoked in her, she smacked the metal bowl down on the counter harder than she had intended.

He glanced at her, an eyebrow raised in question. Then his eyes slid slowly over her apron, eyeing her as if she were wearing a lacy item from Victoria’s Secret instead of the ancient faded smock she’d found in a drawer.

Every nerve ending in her body seemed to tingle.

Flustered by his perusal and her reaction, she met his gaze. Courage, she thought, have courage.

She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her.

Her ex-fiancé used to do that to get her off a subject he didn’t care to pursue. But Charles had never been able to derail her with just a look.

Jolie shivered. Those blue eyes of his made her stomach do little flip-flops.

“Evening.” He held her eye for another disarming moment, then glanced down briefly at Riley before turning to the sink. He didn’t speak to his son.

“Good evening.” She kept her tone light and tried to keep her mind on the discussion she intended to have with him during dinner.

He had on a denim shirt that pulled across his shoulders as he reached to turn on the water. The color made his blue eyes even bluer. Deeply tanned skin made his hair looked gilded in the bright kitchen light.

In spite of how good he looked, Jolie didn’t miss the fact that lines of fatigue, so apparent yesterday, had deepened around his eyes and mouth.

Jolie watched the baby as Griff finished washing up. Riley displayed only a simple curiosity at the new person who had entered his presence. No smiles or squeals of happiness at seeing a familiar face, no anticipation of attention.

Griff had shown no interest in the child beyond a cursory glance.

They acted as if they were strangers.

Jolie felt a moment of panic. She wasn’t qualified to deal with this situation. How could she get Griff and Riley together?

Courage, she told herself sternly, you live with courage. You may not have the training for this, but you’re all they have to save them.

When she had vowed to have courage and do something outrageous every day, she had never considered taking on something as complicated as repairing the damaged relationship between a man and his son.

She had thought more along the lines of working up the nerve to get a tattoo in a place no one else would see.

The daunting task of fixing this parent-child relationship made the thought of decorating her hip with a small tattoo seem too trivial to think about.

But, she reminded herself, she was all this man and his son had. Jolie didn’t see Griff as the kind of person who would go looking for help.

She was pretty sure he didn’t know he needed help.

She was absolutely sure he wouldn’t want her help.

But, she told herself, you’ve dealt with your own father all these years. They didn’t come much more difficult than Richard Carleton.

The key here was for Griff to think that becoming more involved with Riley was really his idea. Jolie could be very underhanded if it meant a better life for the baby.

She plastered a smile on her mouth, turned and faced Griff as he rinsed the soap off his hands. “Dinner is almost ready.”

She didn’t miss his suspicious look.

Jolie lifted two plates out of the cupboard and set them on the counter.

He watched her for a moment, then said, “I have to make two calls, then I’m going back out.”

Concentrating his gaze on the towel, he acted as if the task of drying his hands required his full attention.

She wasn’t going to let him get away, not now, while she was having a hard time holding on to her resolve.

Forcing herself to adopt a reasonable tone, she phrased her response as a question. “You can take time to eat, can’t you?”

He stared at her while he seemed to consider his answer. “Will it be ready in ten minutes?” he asked in a wary voice.

“Yes.” She’d make sure of it. He was trying to put distance between them and she needed to get started on him.

She only had two weeks.

“Ring the bell.” He gestured to a round metal contraption with a pull chain set high on the kitchen wall.

Then he stepped around Riley as if the baby were a piece of furniture, and left the kitchen without sparing a word for his son.

Jolie stood staring at the empty door frame, unable to believe what had just happened. He hadn’t even taken a moment to pat his son on the head.

Griff Price had to be the most aggravating person she had ever encountered. It was as if he refused to have any more human contact than was absolutely necessary.

She suspected if she suggested they work out a series of signals with the bell so that they wouldn’t have to talk to each other he’d like the idea.

How could Riley thrive in this atmosphere? She scooped the baby off the floor and gave him a fierce hug as he nestled into her arms.

“Don’t worry,” she said into his curls, “I’m not leaving until he realizes how precious you are. And what you need,” she added, hoping keeping the promise wouldn’t take more courage than she possessed.

Jolie rocked him in her arms for a few more moments and crooned silly endearments, then put him back down.

If she didn’t have dinner ready, Griff would leave and she would miss a chance to talk to him. Hurrying through the preparation, she finished up and tugged on the bell chain.

The loud clang made her jump.

What an annoying noise, she thought as she pulled out her chair and sat.

Griff slid into his chair and forked a bite off the plate of fresh greens topped by a broiled, sliced chicken breast. After a few bites he said, “This is good. What’s for dinner?”

She thought he must be kidding, but so far she hadn’t seen him display a glimpse of a sense of humor. “This is dinner.”

“Is there any more?” He looked at her with a hopeful expression.

Jolie shook her head. “No. Sorry.”

What was wrong with her? She should have realized a man who worked outside all day would need more than a salad for dinner. She pushed a basket of bread toward him.

At least he was talking. If they had to start with food, that was fine with her. “What kind of food do you like for dinner?”

He thought for a minute. “Steak. The chest freezer in the mudroom is full.”

Of course he would like beef. He grew them, didn’t he? She hadn’t looked in the chest freezer that took up half of one wall.

The top of the appliance was piled with newspapers and bags of empty beer cans. Her hands had been full with Riley and she hadn’t taken the time to clear it off so she could check inside. She had discovered the ice-incrusted package of chicken breasts in the freezer section of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

“We need to talk about Riley.” Jolie laid her fork on her plate.

He glanced down at the baby, who stared back at him. “What about him?”

Jolie started with something small and worked her way up. “He doesn’t have any toys.”

Griff shrugged. “Isn’t he too young for toys?”

“Not at all. He needs things to help develop his hand-eye coordination.”

He frowned and threw her a skeptical look, then shrugged.

Jolie groped around for something else to say to keep him talking to her. “And he has very few clothes.”

His features tightened up. “Can you drive a stick shift?”

“Yes.” She noted the change in his expression and wondered if money was a problem for him.

She’d gladly charge everything the baby needed, but the only thing her credit cards were good for now was scraping gum off the bottom of her shoe.

He waved his hand. “Take the truck and get what he needs.”

Embarrassed to ask, she saw no alternative. “I’ll need money.”

He rolled on his hip and worked his wallet out of a back pocket, pulled out a handful of bills and put the money in the middle of the table.

“What about a baby’s car seat? Do you have one of those?” There hadn’t been one in the truck he had driven last night.

Jolie watched Griff’s features tighten up even more as he shook his head.

Getting answers out of him was a painful process. What did he do, lay the baby on the seat of that big truck of his? She felt a spurt of anger at his disregard for his son’s safety.

He pushed his chair back, and she grabbed his arm to stay him, feeling the hard, warm muscle under the fabric of his shirt. “There’s more I need to say before you leave again.”

She had waited all day to talk to him, and she didn’t have time to put this off.

He looked down at her hand clutching his arm and she felt the hard muscle under her fingers tense. “Hurry up and get it over with. I’ve got work to do.”

Jolie dropped her hand, sorry that she had touched him like that. He obviously didn’t like it.

“I’m worried about Riley.”

Griff looked quickly at the baby, then back at Jolie. “He looks fine to me. Is he sick?”

Jolie took a deep breath. No parent wanted to hear that something might be wrong with their child. She chose her words carefully.

“No. Physically he appears to be fine. But you must have noticed that he doesn’t crawl or reach for things.”

Griff sat very still, studying fingers splayed on his knees. What was he looking for, bamboo strips under his fingernails? she thought sourly. He acted as if he was being tortured.

Finally he glanced up at her and spoke. “Isn’t he too young to do those things?”

“No. He should be reaching and crawling and even pulling himself up to stand.”

Griff rubbed his palms against his blue-jean-clad thighs and stared at Riley.

Jolie waited for him to absorb the information, then asked gently, “What has his pediatrician told you about his development?”

“Pediatrician?” He looked at her blankly.

“Do you take him to your regular doctor?” Maybe he used a family practice doctor.

Griff shrugged, still staring at the baby. “I haven’t taken him to the doctor.”

Jolie was appalled. What about his well-baby checks and vaccinations? “Never?”

“I just got him, okay?”

Jolie’s head jerked up at his rough tone that didn’t quite mask the pain underneath. “What?”

Just got him? It hadn’t occurred to her that Riley might have been living elsewhere. She assumed his ex-wife had left him and the child.

“You heard me.” He clamped his mouth shut so tightly a muscle twitched in his jaw.

She had heard him, and what he said made a big difference. She decided to try another approach. “Look, I know you think I’m prying, but there are things I need to know if I’m going to take care of Riley.”

Agitated, Griff told himself he had wasted too much time eating the rabbit food she passed off as dinner, and he had heard more than enough talk. She may have a degree in some field about children, but she didn’t know what she was talking about.

Dread he didn’t want to face had him standing up so fast his chair tipped over and crashed against the floor.

Furious at himself for reacting to her, he jerked the chair upright and turned on her. “You are prying. There’s nothing wrong with the kid. I hired you to feed him and watch him. That’s all.”

If he didn’t get out of the kitchen he was going to say something he’d regret about her nosy ways. He walked out the door, leaving her with her pretty little mouth hanging open.

Griff stopped in the middle of the yard and ran his hands through his hair. It was a wonder he could keep his temper at all around her. She was a managing kind of female with a body that made him want to weep.

There was nothing wrong with Riley. If there had been, the social worker would have said something.

The problem was her. It had to be her. He couldn’t handle it if it wasn’t.

Exhaustion dragged at him. It would be hours tonight before they finished riding the fence line. He tipped his head back and stared at the stars, just starting to show in the evening sky.

He had awakened several times last night with the thought that she was sleeping just down the hall. Usually when he was working as hard as he had been lately, he slept like a rock.

He was horny, tired and hungry. None of the conditions improved his disposition.

Last night, on his way back to the house, he had decided that he wasn’t going to sleep with her. He had learned the hard way that the hotter his blood ran for a woman, the colder his bed was when she left.

The decision seemed reasonable until he was in the same room with her.

To get his mind off her sweet little body, he thought about what she had said about his nephew.

She was wrong about Riley. The kid was fine. Just quiet, like him.

There was such a thing as too much education, and he suspected that was Jolie Carleton’s problem. She wanted to see things that weren’t there.

Riley had looked okay to Griff, sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor. The kid didn’t need toys. He didn’t play with the spoons and stuff he had. And if he hadn’t started to crawl yet, that just made her job easier. She didn’t have to chase after him.