Читать книгу The Late Bloomer's Baby - Kaitlyn Rice - Страница 8

A ringing woke Callie Taylor, and she reached for the alarm switch on her bedside clock. When she realized the sound had come from her phone, she groaned and lifted her head from the pillow to check the time.

Who would be calling at five-twenty in the morning?

It was probably a wrong number. Since she used her machine to screen calls, she’d set it to answer after one ring. She could sleep for a while and check for a message later.

But the timing of the call nagged her until she shoved her covers aside and padded from her bedroom. Pausing at the nursery doorway, she peered inside. Fortunately, the noise hadn’t disturbed Luke. Her eleven-month-old son lay flat on his back with his arms and legs flung across the mattress. Callie grinned as she continued toward the phone. Asleep or awake, her dark-haired sweetheart embraced life vigorously.

He was so much like his father.

Callie lost her smile at that thought, but shrugged off her regret. If anyone could revive the ignorant hopes of a newlywed bride, it wasn’t Callie. She excelled at science, not men.

After entering her great room, she heard her younger sister finishing a message and grabbed the phone. “Hey, Isabel. What’s going on? It’s not even six here in Denver.”

“Sorry about the early call. I…well, I needed to talk to you.”

Her hesitancy alerted Callie to trouble. She sank onto the sofa and tucked her bare legs beneath her nightgown. “What happened, hon?”

“The house flooded, Cal. Pretty bad. I’m calling from a church shelter.”

A sense of powerlessness socked Callie in the gut. Her sister lived five hundred and thirty miles away in Augusta, their south-central Kansas hometown. She might as well be across a sea.

“Lord, Izzy! Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. So far, everyone is safe and accounted for.”

“Thank God.”

“I was home in bed when it happened, though.” Isabel’s voice vibrated as if she was trembling. “I heard a noise around three-thirty. Something like a crack or a pop. I got up to look around—for some reason the lights worked—and watched the basement fill as if it were a giant bathtub.” She laughed nervously. “I think the sound was a window breaking.”

Callie sat forward, hugging her knees as she began to shiver, too. “Did you leave then?”

“Well, no. The water was almost to the top of the porch. I couldn’t drive out so I called the Augusta police. A National Guard boat picked me up twenty-five minutes later. They took me to a big truck where other evacuees were waiting, and later they brought us all here to the church.”

Callie pictured her sister standing in the doorway of their childhood home, awaiting a middle-of-the-night rescue by strangers. She imagined her now, shaking and striving for bravery.

A thought struck then, and Callie pressed a palm against the growing knot in her stomach. Isabel had said that everyone was safe. That she was at a shelter. Apparently, more than just Isabel’s house had flooded.

Callie’s youngest sister also lived in Augusta. The Blume home was outside city limits to the south. Josie rented an apartment right in town. “Have you heard from Josie?” she asked.

“She’s fine. She said neighborhoods northeast of the middle school weren’t affected.”

Callie drew in a deep breath.

“The sirens woke her, though. She turned on the news and heard we were flooding. She tried to get to the house but the roads were impassable. She’d just returned when I called a minute ago. She’s on her way here to pick me up.”

Good. Her sisters were safe. They’d have each other until Callie arrived. “I’ll make arrangements and fly into Wichita today,” she said. “I can rent a car at the airport so we’ll have another vehicle to use, and we’ll—”

“Oh, no,” Isabel butted in, her voice firm. “I wanted you to know that Josie and I were safe, but you don’t need to come. You’ve got your work to think about, and, well, everything would be too difficult, wouldn’t it?”

“Are you kidding? I’ll take a leave of absence from BioLabs. My assistants can continue the trials. I need to be with my little sisters.”

“But you also have a baby to worry about,” Isabel said. “I don’t expect you to bring Luke. For the obvious reasons.”

Callie frowned through her sister’s patient explanation. Yes, her child would complicate this trip, and not simply because he was an infant.

Luke’s father lived in Wichita again now—just twenty miles west of Augusta. Ethan didn’t know—couldn’t know—of his son’s existence.

“I have no choice but to bring Luke,” Callie said, then heard a muffled male voice in the background, followed by Isabel’s response. Someone had lured her sister away from their conversation.

Seconds later, she came on the line again. “Sorry. People are waiting for the phone.” Isabel lowered her voice. “I did hear you, though. Are you sure you want to take the chance? Josie and I can handle things here, you know.”

That was right. Isabel had always been content to piggyback her emotions on the well-being of others, hadn’t she? It wasn’t that she didn’t feel her own feelings, but she derived such joy from her interactions with others. Such energy from their happiness. Even through this trauma, she’d appreciate Josie’s spunk. She would be fine. Maybe Callie could stay here in Denver, where she could keep Luke safe.

The man interrupted again. While her sister spoke to him, Callie considered taking the easy out.

No. Despite the risk, she had to go. At twenty-nine, Callie was the oldest of the Blumes. Now that their mother was gone, she felt protective of her sisters. Although Josie and Isabel were each smart and capable, they could surely use an extra brain and pair of hands.

“I’m coming,” she insisted when Isabel returned. “I’ll call Josie’s cell number when I know details about my arrival. We can talk then.”

After she hung up, Callie sat on the sofa for a moment, organizing her morning. She’d rush a shower, then pack for two. Later she’d call a travel agency. If she left Luke at the lab’s on-site day care for an hour, she could outline a task list for her assistants.

She’d be fine. She probably wouldn’t run into Ethan. If she did, she’d control her reaction.

When she caught herself toying with her wedding band and allowing her mind to wander, Callie sighed and rubbed her fingertips across her tired eyes.

She had no choice, really. She was headed home.