Читать книгу Baby in His Arms - Линда Гуднайт, Линда Гуднайт - Страница 14
ОглавлениеChapter Three
The next evening, after the dinner dishes were put away and homework completed, Haley found herself watching the clock. Would Creed really show up? If he didn’t, would Thomas be disappointed?
At ten minutes until six, Thomas laid his kite and string on the table. The cheap kite had turned out well thanks to Creed Carter. A bright blue-and-red dragon with a tail made from scraps of cloth she’d cut from an old shirt, to Thomas the toy was the next best thing to an airplane.
“Creed will be here any minute,” he said with that absolute certainty only a ten-year-old could have. “He said six o’clock and Creed’s a man of his word. He told me so.”
A better question would have been, how disappointed will he be when the flyboy doesn’t show up?
She glanced at the clock again. Five more minutes and the man was toast.
She’d not particularly wanted Creed to come over tonight, but now she’d be furious if he didn’t. Thomas had enough disappointments in his life.
She’d thought about the flyboy too much today. About the way he looked so military-neat and masculine-handsome. About the way he’d fretted over Rose Petal. But especially about that tingly moment when they’d been feeding the baby. Haley knew all about tingly moments with a guy, enough that she’d long ago decided attraction was grossly overrated. Especially after Creed had insulted her yesterday and made it clear he thought she was unfit to foster Rose Petal.
But he’d better show up tonight or else be prepared to receive a very irate phone call tomorrow.
She poked a finger in the potted seedlings growing by the kitchen window, finding the dirt still moist. In another week or two, she’d transplant the gourds outside and hope this year’s crop did better than last year’s. She caught her bottom lip between her teeth. More important than the seedlings were the unfinished pieces in her work room. An artist couldn’t sell what wasn’t finished.
“He’s here!” The shout from Thomas jolted her from her worry.
Following the sound of male voices, she entered the living room to find Creed Carter standing inside the front door. She needed to have a talk with Thomas about letting men into her house!
“You came,” she said.
Creed, wearing a black Carter’s Charters T-shirt, gave her a long, piercing look. “I said I would.”
She tilted her chin. “So you did.”
If Thomas caught the sizzle of antagonism between the adults, he was too excited to be bothered.
“I put the string and tail on like you told me to. See?”
“She looks like a worthy vessel,” Creed said. “Ready to fly her?”
“Yes!” Thomas didn’t need any other invitation. Kite in hand, he led the way through the kitchen and out onto the back porch. The adults followed.
“He’s been bouncy all day,” Haley said. “Very excited.”
“Flying a kite is no big deal.”
Haley fought an eye roll. He’d probably come from the perfect family where disappointments were rare. But her foster son hadn’t. Creed didn’t understand. Flying the kite wasn’t the issue. Having a man care enough to show up was. “It’s important to him.”
And to her. For Thomas’s sake. She eased around the troubling pilot, careful not to let her arm brush his in the narrow hallway. She didn’t want a repeat of last night’s touchy-feely episode.
As they passed through the kitchen, Creed glanced toward the table. “Where’s the baby? Rose Petal.”
“I moved the bassinet into my bedroom.” As Haley had expected, Rose Petal had cried off and on all night.
“How’s she doing?”
“Fine.” Her answers were short and to the point, maybe even abrupt, but the flyboy was too close in the small kitchen. And he smelled good. And looked all spit and polished. For crying out loud, had he gone home after work and showered?
She’d been in the garden most of the morning and in the work room all afternoon when she hadn’t been caring for Rose Petal. She probably smelled like a combo of Miracle-Gro and acrylic paint. Or baby formula.
Once outside, Creed’s focus, thankfully, was on Thomas, not her. Haley let out a tight sigh.
“Have you ever flown a kite before?” Creed asked, one hand on Thomas’s shoulder as he surveyed the spacious backyard.
Thomas shook his head. The pale blond cowlick quivered.
“Okay, then, here’s how it works. Check out the space above you first. A pilot never flies unless he has smooth sailing. Safety first. See any electric wires or trees?”
Her backyard was a mass of trees and plants with a single electric line slicing through the center. Not exactly kite-flying territory.
Thomas’s chin tilted upward. “Yeah, but there’s not any over that way.”
“Then, that’s our flight path.” Creed took Thomas’s arm and pointed. “Look down your arm. See it? Smooth sailing.”
“Yep. Smooth sailing.”
Smiling, Haley settled on the top step to listen as Creed talked in his rich, manly voice about wind direction and air speed. Behind his thick glasses, Thomas listened enrapt.
“Ready?”
Eagerly, Thomas nodded and the males, one small and pale, one dark and fit, moved across her long backyard. Creed held the kite and Thomas the string, slowly letting out the length until the diamond-shaped plastic caught the wind.
“We have liftoff!” Creed cried, teeth flashing against dark skin.
“It’s flying. It’s flying! Look, Haley, our kite is flying!” The boy was practically levitating from joy. Any moment she expected him to take flight along with his kite.
Such a simple thing, Haley thought, to make a child so happy. And, she admitted grudgingly, Creed Carter had made it happen.
From her perch on the back porch, she clapped. “Awesome!”
“Come on,” Thomas shouted. “You’ll have fun.”
Unable to resist the boy’s sweet pleasure, she leaped up and jogged to him, her bare toes tickled by the soft, new grass that smelled of moist earth and blue sky.
In his enthusiasm, Thomas lost control. The kite dipped, floundering. In wide-eyed panic, he shouted, “I’m gonna crash!”
Calm and cool as a fresh snowfall, Creed placed his wider hand atop Thomas’s to assist. “Feel that tug? That’s when you know to give her more string. She’s eager to ascend.”
Tension gripped Thomas’s voice. “Like this?”
“That’s the way. Catch the updraft.” Creed’s hand dropped away. He stood observing, ready to help, but letting the success belong to Thomas.
Even though she didn’t want to, Haley liked him for that.
The dark blue diamond rose higher and higher until the kite looked like a child’s colorful sticker pasted against the soft blue sky. Gradually, Thomas’s thin shoulders relaxed and his intensity turned to a smile.
“I’m doing it, aren’t I, Creed? I’m flying. Now I can fly anytime I want.”
“Whenever there’s enough breeze.”
Rapt, Thomas followed his kite across the open field, slowly reeling and unreeling string as he left the adults behind.
Haley stood at Creed’s elbow, more aware of him than she wanted to be. “You made that look easy.”
He slid a glance in her direction. “Flying a kite is easy.”
“Never was for me.”
“Then why did you buy him one?”
She raised a shoulder. “He wanted one so badly. I had to try.”
He gave her another of those cool looks she didn’t understand. He did that a lot, she noticed, as if she were from another planet and any minute he expected her green scales to show.
But his conversation was remarkably normal. “Thomas is a nice boy.”
“Yes, and a valiant spirit.” The child had endured loss and pain but hadn’t grown bitter or angry. At least not yet. She hoped and prayed he never would, but she was also a realist. Whatever happened happened.
Haley crossed her ankles and settled onto the grass.
Thomas had the kite well in hand now, his blond head tilted back to watch the spectacle.
Creed crossed his arms over the yellow helicopter logo but didn’t join her on the grass. “How long has he been in foster care?”
“Off and on most of his life. His mother has mental health issues.” Haley plucked a dandelion blossom and stuck the bright yellow flower behind one ear. “When she’s well, she’s a good mother. She’s also wise enough to know when she’s going downhill.”
“What do you mean?”
A bumblebee buzzed past. Haley gently waved her hand to send it on its way. “She forgets to feed him, forgets he’s even there, so she calls social services to pick him up.”
Creed whistled softly and turned a thoughtful gaze to the boy. A muscle in his jaw flexed. “Must be tough.”
“He’s strong about it.” So far. “He misses his mom, but he’s seen her spiral downward. Her illness scares him. He worries about her.”
“A kid shouldn’t have to deal with that.”
“Mental illness isn’t a choice, Creed. His mother can’t help being sick.” But sometimes Haley wondered why a good God didn’t change things. Why people had to suffer. Why children were tossed in and out of the social system. Why some mothers’ needs were more important than their children’s. Foolish thoughts. Life was just that way. Good today and bad tomorrow.
She yanked another dandelion. “Did you know these are edible?” she said, more to stop thinking than because she cared to share her knowledge of dandelions.
His expression was amused. “Yum.”
“No, I’m serious. The lowly dandelion is one of the most useful plants God created.”
“Really?” He dipped his head and looked at her from beneath raised eyebrows.
She could see he didn’t believe her. He probably thought she was a space cadet. Not that she cared. Still, she felt compelled to prove her point.
“The flower can be battered and fried, made into wine or jelly and a lot of other things. The leaves—” she yanked a handful and held them up “—when tender are similar to spinach. Toss them into a bowl with feta cheese, add vinaigrette and voilà, you have salad. Even the roots can be dried and ground into a coffee substitute.”
Creed chuckled. “No one will starve with you around. You should sign up for a survivor show.”
Let him laugh. She knew what she knew. Haley pushed up from the grass, watching the leaves flutter to the ground. Creed moved as if to offer a hand but she shied away. “I should run inside and make sure Rose Petal is still sleeping. Want something to drink?”
“Fresh ground dandelion coffee?”
She made a face at him. “You’re not funny.”
Yet, as she walked away from the handsome pilot, she giggled inside. She didn’t want to like him, but he was kind of charming.
* * *
Creed pivoted so that he had one eye on Thomas and the other on the woman striding with a lithe, easy swing of her arms toward the back porch. Tonight she wore khaki shorts and a white tank top beneath a gray zip-up hoodie. Beneath the hem of the shorts her legs weren’t long but they were...nice. Lightly tanned. Shapely. Come to think of it, so was the rest of her.
All her silly talk about dandelions had confirmed his suspicions. Haley Blanchard was a throwback flower child. Flakey but harmless. And pretty cute.
“Looking good out there,” he called to Thomas.
The boy, both hands firmly on the twine reel, grinned. “My arms are getting kind of tired.”
“Ready to land that bird?”
“I don’t want to tear it up.”
The kite was cheap to make and easily replaceable, but to a boy who’d never had one, taking care of the thin plastic mattered.
Creed’s heart squeezed.
“Tell you what,” he said, coming up beside Thomas. “You reel her in. I’ll catch her before she hits the ground. Deal?”
Thomas nodded. “Okay.”
By the time they’d safely landed the kite, Haley exited the back door, Rose Petal in her arms. “The baby’s awake and hungry. You can come inside if you want to.”
The invitation wasn’t the most enthusiastic he’d ever received, but Creed was going to accept, anyway. He’d dreamed about Rose Petal last night, waking with a knot in his throat. In his dream, he’d skipped his usual prayer time and no one had been at church to find the baby. She’d been alone and helpless and crying hysterically.
The memory clung to him like the scent of mint clung to the backyard as he fell into step with Thomas and his kite. Haley waited on the porch, baby in arms.
The plastic kite crinkled and fluttered in Thomas’s hands. “I had fun.”
Creed grinned down at the boy. “Flying’s the best. Even if you’re on the ground.”
“Yeah.”
“Do you have a safe place to store your mighty dragon?”
“I’ll keep it on my dresser. Well, the dresser is Haley’s, but you know what I mean. I hope I can take it with me when mama comes.”
“The kite? Sure, you can. It’s yours.”
“If Mama says I can. Some things freak her out.”
“Oh.” Creed didn’t know where to go with that one so he kept quiet.
Sharply sweet smells rose from a half barrel of red flowers as they joined Haley on the porch, their shoes thudding on the hollow wood. Creed sniffed, liking the smell. Geraniums, he thought, and some other flowery things he didn’t recognize. Mom grew geraniums, though not in nearly as much abundance.
No one on the planet crowded as many flowers and green things into a pot or a spot as Haley Blanchard. A cord strung across one end of the porch held some brown, odd-shaped squash-looking things. Gourds maybe?
With an inner smile, he wondered if she ate those, too.
Thomas reached the door first and opened it, waiting politely while Haley carried Rose Petal inside.
“Nice job, ladies’ man.” Creed said the last to make Thomas laugh and was rewarded with a display of crooked teeth.
Inside the apple-green kitchen, Haley jostled the fussing infant against her chest while attempting to prepare formula with one hand. More of the brown, odd-shaped fruits—or whatever they were—were scattered on newspapers along the short countertop. Haley elbowed them to the back.
“Thomas, grab a snack if you want one. You’ll have plenty of time to read a book before your bath.”
Thomas groaned. “A bath!”
Creed felt his pain. No ten-year-old liked baths. He scruffed Thomas’s hair. “Someday you’ll enjoy smelling good.”
“So I can be a ladies’ man?”
Creed laughed at Haley’s surprised expression. “Want me to hold her while you do that?”
He’d never been a guy who went around holding babies, but Rose Petal was different. She’d stolen a corner of his heart yesterday morning and he hadn’t gotten it back yet. That a tiny infant wielded such power felt nothing short of weird.
He reached for Rose. His fingers collided with Haley’s soft smooth skin. The bizarre tingle came again, raising the hairs on his arms. His pulse jumped. He took Rose and stepped back, bothered.
He wasn’t attracted to this earth mother hippie. He couldn’t be.
“Ladies’ man?” Haley asked, oblivious to his discomfort as she repeated last night’s scene of pouring white powdery stuff into a baby bottle. “What have you been saying to Thomas?”
Creed shot Thomas a conspiratorial wink. “Guy talk.”
The ten-year-old puffed out his chest. “Yeah, guy talk. Can I have some cookies?”
Haley shook her head. “No more cookies. Try the yogurt or a banana and a glass of milk.”
At least she knew how to feed a kid properly. His mom would approve.
Odd that he would think that. Why would he care if his mother approved of a woman he barely knew?
Getting that itchy feeling again, Creed turned his attention to the soft bundle in his arms. She was squirmy and red-faced, her dark blue eyes squinted but staring a hole through him. Both elbows were bent and her fists were tight against her cheeks.
“Hey, little girl. Remember me?” Creed stroked one tiny fist and was gratified when the infant clutched his finger. The action was an innate reflex, but his insides warmed, anyway. “Why do you think her mother left her?”
He hadn’t meant to ask, but the question had haunted him all day.
Haley took the baby and stuck the bottle in her mouth. “I don’t know. I try not to think about it.”
He couldn’t think of anything else. The fact that Haley didn’t only proved how different they were.
He definitely wasn’t attracted to her. Not one bit.
She led the way down a short hall into the living room. Furnished in mismatched chairs and a floral couch like one he remembered in his grandmother’s farmhouse, the room was painted a sunny yellow. Green things sprouted from brown clay pots arranged beneath an east window. A framed mirror on one wall reflected the back of Haley’s auburn waves and her slender shoulders.
“I promised you something to drink,” she said. “But you’ll have to get it yourself. Rose Petal comes first at the moment.”
He waved her off, not sure if he should sit down or wait to be asked. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll live.”
“What?” Her lips curled in a teasing grin. “You aren’t pining for my dandelion tea?”
“I thought it was coffee.”
Her teeth flashed, accenting the small mole on her cheek. She had a pretty smile. “Could be both. But tonight I’m making neither. Will you settle for green tea? I could use a cup myself.”
Green tea? Creed fought a grimace but knew he’d failed when Haley laughed.
“Water, perhaps?” she asked.
“The perfect drink. I’ll get it.” He escaped to the kitchen, finding Thomas there.
The boy swigged the last of his milk and backhanded his mouth. “I had fun.”
He’d said that already. About a dozen times.
“Great.” Creed didn’t know much about little kids, but he remembered being a boy. A sometimes lonely boy. Not that his life was hard like Thomas’s, but an only child living in the country spent a lot of time alone with only his imagination for company.
“Will you come back? Maybe next time we can make a box kite. I read about them at school today. The teacher has this big book about different kites.”
Creed started to refuse, to make an excuse of all the reasons he didn’t want to hang around flakey Haley or get involved with a baby that wasn’t his or a foster child with an uncertain future, but the expression in Thomas’s eyes stopped him cold.
“That’s up to Haley.”
“She won’t care.”
Creed didn’t quite agree. He ruffled Thomas’s hair. “We’ll see. Okay?”
Thomas hitched one shoulder. “Okay.”
But Creed knew the boy was disappointed. Wrestling with his conscience, he scored two glasses of water and headed back to the living room and Haley. “Here you go.”
Haley shook her head. “Put mine on the table. I’m going to change Rose Petal and lay her down. We had hours of rocking last night and my arms are sore. I’ll be back in a minute.”
She took Rose Petal down a hall and went into a room he couldn’t see from here.
Thomas appeared in the opposite doorway. “Want to play UNO?” he asked hopefully.
Man. He really needed to get out of here. He’d come to fly a kite with Thomas and check on Rose Petal. That was all. Time to leave. “I should probably hit the road.”
“Oh.” Thomas’s body sagged. He turned back toward the kitchen.
The quiet acceptance hit Creed squarely in the cardiac muscle. “Maybe one game?”
The boy whipped around so fast that his cowlick waved like a wind sock. “Really?”
“If Haley says it’s okay.”
“She won’t care. She gets bored of playing games.” With a hop in his step, Thomas rushed out of the room, presumably to score the UNO cards.
From down the hall, Creed heard a baby’s cry followed by Haley’s soft murmurs. He couldn’t tell what she was saying but the crying ceased. He swigged his water and swallowed hard, wondering what it would be like to drift down the hall and peek inside that room, to watch while Haley settled Rose Petal for the night.
Feeling itchy again, he rotated the damp glass between his fingers. One game of UNO and he was out of here.
Haley returned, rolling her head as if her shoulders and neck ached. He wondered who massaged her sore muscles, who she leaned on, who cared for her while she was caring for someone else’s children. Did Haley have a boyfriend?
Creed mentally shook himself. Where were these random thoughts coming from?
“I hope she sleeps better tonight.” She rubbed at her right shoulder.
“Bad night last night?” What a stupid question. Fatigue rimmed Haley’s eyes. The woman was dead-tired.
“She doesn’t have a routine yet, but she’ll get one eventually. I was up every hour or two.”
“Brutal.”
“Tell me about it. After a while I gave up trying to sleep and went to work.” She took the glass of water from a scratched coffee table and drank deeply. Her throat flexed. The pale, smooth column looked soft and touchable.
Creed pried his eyes away. “You worked last night? Where?”
“I didn’t run off and leave Thomas and Rose Petal alone, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said a bit hotly. “I work at home. I’m a folk artist. Gourd art mostly.”
Were those the odd-looking fruits he’d seen in the kitchen?
“Gourds.” Unable to formulate a more coherent reply, he sipped at his water. What did an artist do with gourds? And how did he ask that question without getting kicked out of her house? The neon “flakey Haley” sign flashed in his head.
“Thomas asked me to play UNO,” he said instead. “Does that work for you?”
If she was surprised by his change of subjects, she didn’t let on. “You’ll be his hero and maybe mine. If I never play another game of colors and numbers I’ll die happy.”
“See?” Thomas said, coming into the room. “I told you.”
Haley gave him a mock scowl. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
The boy’s slender shoulder arched. “I already knew.”
Thomas plopped down in front of the coffee table and began doling out cards. “We each get seven. You know how to play, don’t you?”
“Sure. In the military, we played all kinds of card games.”
“Even UNO? I thought it was a kids’ game.”
“What?” Creed cried, pretending amazement. “No way.”
Being a helicopter pilot for the army was one part boredom and the rest pure adrenaline. They played any kind of game they could get their hands on.
He gathered his cards, sorted the colors and pairs. “You go first.”
With a sly grin, Thomas slapped down a draw four card and the game was on.
“He’s an ace at UNO, Creed. Watch your back.”
“I see that.” In truth, UNO was a simple game that required minimal concentration but Thomas played well. “When I was a kid I drove my dad nuts wanting him to play games with me.”
“Did he?” Haley asked. She’d taken the chair adjacent to the couch and curled her feet beneath her.
“Yeah. He was great. Well, he still is, but I don’t bug him to play as much as I used to.” He grinned.
“He sounds like a good dad.” There was something wistful in her voice.
“The best.” He added a blue seven to the pile. Thomas groaned and drew a card. “What about you?”
“No dad. Just a mom.” Again that wistful sound that had him wondering.
“Does she live in Whisper Falls?”
“Last time I heard from her, she was in Michigan. Before that Virginia. She moves around a lot.” Haley took one of the bright throw pillows and hugged it to her chest. “I’ve lived in more places than most people can name.”
Maybe that explained the free-spirit element. “How long have you lived in Whisper Falls?”
“A long time for me.” She looked upward, calculating. “Nearly seven years. What about you? Is Whisper Falls your hometown?”
Thomas played a lose-a-turn card. Creed’s hard-eyed scowl earned a giggle.
“Lived here all my life.” Well, most of his life. The only home he’d ever known was three miles out of town nestled in a grove of trees with a view of Blackberry Mountain. “Mom and Dad have lived in the same house for nearly forty years.”
Again that wistful expression. She gnawed the side of her thumb. “I can’t imagine staying in the same place all my life.”
“Don’t you like this town?”
“I love Whisper Falls, but you know how it goes. Nothing lasts forever.”
He cocked his head, interested, curious. Was she a will-o’-the-wisp that could flit from one situation to another, never putting down roots? “Some things do.”
She leaned forward, elbows on her knees and chin in her hands. “Like what?”
“Love, for one. God, for another.”
A beat of silence occurred, broken only by the snick of Thomas’s card against the discard pile.
Haley’s brown-sugar eyes studied him. The wheels were turning in her head. He could tell and wondered.
“You take your faith very seriously, don’t you?”
“Try to.” He slid a yellow two atop Thomas’s yellow six. “God took me seriously when He sent His Son to die for me. I figure the least I can do is love Him and let Him love me. What about you?”
She shrugged. “I believe in God, but most of the time I think He gets people started and then we’re pretty much on our own until we get to heaven. Church just makes us feel like we belong to something.”
Heavy topic, but he was never one to shy away from discussions about God. In truth, he never shied away from much of anything. But his faith was number one.
“Not me. I take people’s lives up in my chopper every day. I need to know God is up there with me.”
“Christians die in crashes. How do you explain that?”
“I don’t.” He reached for his glass and downed the last of the water. “If I understood the mysteries of life and faith, I’d be God. I leave the hard stuff to Him.”
“Don’t you ever get scared?” She sat back against the couch, her reddish hair blending with the wild flowers on the couch. “Up there, I mean.”
“Not usually. God is with me whether I live or die. I have that promise. So, it’s all good.” He was down to two cards. Thomas still had three. “I’ll get you on the next round, Thomas. Better look out.”
The boy stared at his cards, saying nothing and for half a beat, Creed regretted his threat. He probably should let the kid win.
“UNO!” Thomas yelled as he slapped down three cards in fast succession.
“Hey!”
Thomas giggled.
“Told you he was good.” Haley leaned forward and patted Thomas on the back. “Great job, bud.”
“Want to play again?” Thomas’s blue eyes danced with pleasure.
“Will you let me win this time?”
The answer did exactly as Creed intended. Thomas tumbled backward onto the floor. Arms over his middle, he drew his knees up and belly laughed.
The adults exchanged amused glances, the heavy conversation tabled for the time being. The next time he was here, he wanted to talk more. Creed caught himself mid-thought. Would there be a next time?
While he mulled the idea, torn between wanting to be here and wondering what had come over him, someone knocked at the front door.
Haley glanced at the clock. “Who would that be this late?”
With a shrug, she popped up from the chair and went to answer.
When she opened the door, a man stepped inside. He was dressed in a business suit and carried a bouquet of brightly colored flowers.
Thomas, busy organizing his cards, made a soft hissing noise. Creed shot him a questioning look.
“Mr. Henderson,” he whispered. “I think he’s Haley’s boyfriend.”
