Читать книгу The Doctor's Second Chance - Missy Tippens - Страница 11
ОглавлениеViolet walked up to the front door of the cute, brick Craftsman-style bungalow with its perfectly landscaped and manicured lawn. The West home backed up to her tiny rental house. Literally. Nothing but a low row of hedges separated their backyards.
The huge front porch with a swing and window boxes cascading with petunias invited her to come sit a while. Exactly the feeling she’d dreamed about having in a small town. If only she could find time to make some friends.
Holding three bags of newborn necessities in her left hand, she rapped on the door with the other. Time to show this clueless man how to take care of his baby cousin.
Jake opened the door, his broad shoulders and husky physique filling the space, making her stomach flutter.
No, no fluttering allowed.
“Hey, come on in,” he said as he reached for the bags with strong arms. “Let me take those.”
He appeared to be six-one or six-two, maybe two hundred twenty-five pounds. A large man, built of solid muscle without a pinch of fat.
“Thanks, but, uh...” Focus. “There’s more in the car. I left it open for you.”
“Got it. You can head on back to the kitchen.”
She stepped inside and passed through a well-used living room fitted with older, broken-in furniture. Abigail slept soundly in her carrier on the worn tweed couch. Violet kept going until she found the kitchen and then began to unload the bags.
The outdated furnishings, which must have belonged to Edith and Paul West, lent a homey feel, something her parents’ home had lacked because her mother hired a decorator to redo the house every few years.
A small, drop-leaf breakfast table by the window, however, looked new. On it sat an opened newspaper beside a laptop computer. Discarded after breakfast or when his cousin showed up needing a babysitter?
Other than the newspaper, everything was in its place, neat as a pin, and wasn’t at all what she would picture for a busy bachelor. Surprisingly, the rooms felt welcoming.
For some reason, the tidy, cozy home didn’t fit with Jake’s overgrown, wavy brown hair, closely trimmed beard and rugged, mountain-man looks.
Shaking her head, she laughed. What had she expected? A tent and camping stove?
“Disposable diapers,” he declared as he entered the room and plopped the bags on the counter. “Lots of diapers. Enough to single-handedly overload the county landfill.”
“Abigail will use all of those in about a week.”
“No kidding?” He tucked all but one of the packs in the pantry. “Guess I need to practice changing her, but I hate to wake her.”
“We can work on the feeding first.”
She pointed to a case of already-prepared formula. “I figured you’d rather splurge on ready-to-feed formula instead of having to mix the powder.”
“Good call.”
She held up a carton and gave instructions on how to heat it.
He pulled bottles out of the diaper bag. “These are the ones Remy sent.”
Examining their condition, Violet wrinkled her nose. One was coated with the curdling remnants of formula. The nipples looked worn. Too worn, as if Remy had gotten them as hand-me-downs. “You know, I think since you don’t know where these have been, we’ll boil them first. And we can throw some of them away. I bought a few new ones.”
His expression hardened. “My cousin may not have the best of everything, but I don’t think she would expose her baby to unsanitary conditions.”
Spoken as if he thought Violet was used to having the best of everything. The fact he must think her haughty nipped at her conscience. How many times had she been mortified by her mother’s snobbish actions? She’d vowed never to have that same attitude.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend. But nipples do wear out and tear, which could choke the baby. We have to be careful.”
With tense shoulders easing, he let out a breath. “Okay.”
“We also need to boil the new bottles and nipples before the first use. Do you have a large soup pot we can use?”
He opened cabinet after cabinet, searching. The man was obviously a bachelor because the shelves were mostly empty.
“Found this.” He pulled out a pan that was big enough to heat a can of soup.
“You don’t cook, huh?”
“I know how, but I’m not here much. I make sandwiches for lunch and give Edna a lot of business at the diner.”
“I’m glad I brought you a case of sample bottles to get you through until you can buy a larger pan.” She couldn’t help but wonder at how much sense his cousin, Remy, had to leave a baby here.
Pulling out an informational brochure she’d brought with her, she showed him how to clean bottles with the brush she’d purchased and how to use the dishwasher for future washings. He seemed to be taking in all the information and even jotted notes.
Satisfied, she pulled out the baby monitor she’d picked up at the hardware store. “Now, you’ll need this so you’ll hear Abigail when she cries during the night.”
The wary look on his face was comical. He had no idea how his life was about to change.
“I guess she needs a room. And a crib.”
Violet’s stomach sank. “You mean you don’t have a place for her to sleep?”
“Well, there are two extra bedrooms,” he sputtered, looking offended. “I had no notice about Remy dropping off the baby.”
She wouldn’t ask more questions and risk him getting his back up. “Don’t put her in your bed. Just remove the comforter, pillows and blankets and put her on the guest bed for tonight. Tomorrow, you can buy a crib. Since it’s short-term, a portable one will be fine.”
At his look of further confusion, she let out a sigh. “Can I use your computer? I’ll show you the items you’ll probably need to buy.”
He pointed her toward the table. “Good idea. Will you listen for Abigail while I go change out of my work clothes?”
“Sure.”
While he banged around in a nearby bedroom, Violet carried the laptop to the living room, where the baby was sleeping. She pulled up the website for a local discount store and put a fairly long list of items in the shopping cart.
Down the hallway, water ran for a few minutes. Before long, Jake showed up with wet hair and wearing jeans and a cottony soft T-shirt, smelling clean and way too appealing.
She popped up off the couch. Handed over the laptop. “Here, I put some things in your shopping cart. Figured you could print and take it with you to the store tomorrow. Travel bed, sheets, portable changing station, more bottles, diaper disposal system, baby bath tub and bathing essentials.”
His face scrunched in disgust. “Diaper disposal system?”
“Yes. To help with odors.”
“Oh, man.” He raked a hand through his hair, leaving brown strands standing up. “How am I going to bathe her? I’ve never even seen someone do that.”
She fought the urge to smooth his disheveled hair back into place. “You’ll figure it out. Watch a YouTube video or something.” She glanced at her watch. “Well, my hour will be up soon, and I haven’t had a chance to show you how to change a diaper.”
“Deserting me already?” He laughed, but she could see worry in the squint of his eyes and crease in his forehead.
“That was our agreement.” She picked up the diaper bag and looked inside. “Is this everything Remy left with you?”
“It is.”
Violet pulled out a receiving blanket. “I’ll show you how to swaddle her so she feels more secure. Once you purchase a crib, always lay her on her back to sleep. And never put anything else in the crib with her.”
His cell phone rang as he nodded. “I’ve got to take this call. It’s work.” Striding toward to the kitchen, his deep voice carried to the living room. He was not happy. Something about a load of floor tile not being delivered as promised.
“No, that’s unacceptable,” Jake said. “I want it there tomorrow morning by nine.”
Abigail woke and began to fuss. Violet took her out of her seat. “Hey, sweet girl. Jake’s busy right now, so it’s just you and me.” The baby was warm and had that wonderful baby shampoo smell. However, her diaper weighed a ton.
The phone conversation ended and footsteps sounded on the hardwood floor.
“Okay, girlfriend,” Violet said to Abigail. “I have to warn you. It’s time for Jake’s first ever diaper change. Cut him some slack, okay?”
When she looked up, Jake stood in the doorway, a half smile on his face. “No need to warn her of my ineptitude. She’ll know soon enough.”
Though he was kidding, there was an edge of truth in what he said. He truly was in over his head.
Unfortunately, he might not fare well, and she worried about Abigail. Maybe she should check in on her tomorrow.
No, that wasn’t her place. It wasn’t as if Remy or Jake was a personal friend.
Once Violet set up a makeshift diaper-changing area on the dresser, she showed Jake how to clean Abigail, slip a disposable diaper under her bottom and fasten it. Then she had him give it a try.
The first attempt left him chuckling. Despite Violet covering her mouth, a laugh slipped out.
He truly was pathetic at diapering.
“How’s that?” he asked after his second attempt. The diaper was mostly straight but was extremely loose.
Looking into his hopeful eyes, she felt a thread of connection that gave the tiniest of tugs on her heart. She could not afford a thread of anything with this man who claimed she was a shady person and felt free to share that opinion around town.
“I’m afraid that will leak,” she said, refocusing on the task at hand. “Try to fasten it tighter. It won’t hurt her or cut off her circulation. It’s stretchy.”
Biting his lip while concentrating, he jumped in once again like a good student, determined to succeed. But this time Abigail started to fuss. “Uh-oh. I’ll never manage this with her wiggling.”
“She’ll always wiggle, so you may as well learn to deal with it.”
“Man, the doc is harsh,” he mumbled into the baby’s ear.
Violet caught herself smiling. “Hey, I can show you harsh by walking out right now.”
“I take it back. Now...I’m trying again.” Once, twice, he made the diaper too loose. The third time, he sighed. “This one’s too tight.”
“Wait.” Violet ran a finger along the waist and leg holes, checking. “That’s perfect. You did it!” She applauded him before she thought better of it, but then reined in her excitement, her face heating.
“Now who’s inept?” Jake grinned, eyes gleaming with victory. “I’ll be teaching a parenting class before you know it.”
At his proud look and touch of humor, her breath gave a little hitch. She should not let his funny side affect her.
“Nice job,” she said as she checked her watch. “Oh, look. My hour is up. I jotted a suggested feeding schedule and left it on your kitchen counter. Call my assistant tomorrow if you have questions.”
In other words, don’t call me.
“Time’s up already?” He carefully tucked Abigail in the crook of his arm, becoming a regular pro at carrying her.
Violet had always had a weakness for a big strong man holding a baby. How different might her life have been if she’d fallen for someone strong and responsible all those years ago?
“The receipt for the baby items is also on the kitchen counter,” Violet said. “You can mail a check to my office.”
“What’s your charge for the hour of training?”
Lifting her chin, she focused on Abigail. “Don’t worry about it.”
“No, I insist.”
“Consider it a favor for a new patient.”
His brows drew downward, and he looked uncomfortable. “We had an agreement. It’s been worth every penny I owe you.”
She couldn’t bring herself to ask for money for doing a task she had enjoyed. Besides, it would only add to his image of her being mercenary. “Instead, make a donation to your favorite charity for children.”
“That’s generous of you.”
Her heart raced as hope shot through her. Hope that maybe he would believe she hadn’t ripped off his aunt and uncle and that she was a decent person.
She grabbed her purse and headed toward the front door.
Close on her heels, he followed. “I’ll mail you a check tomorrow. Thank you for buying the baby stuff and for coming over. I owe you a favor.”
She could imagine how it pained him to say that. “You don’t owe me anything. I like to think I can make a difference in the community. Like your aunt and uncle did.”
He nodded but didn’t comment. She couldn’t help but wonder if he considered her a poor substitute. Sure, they hadn’t known how to run a business well. But they’d taken good care of the local children for a long time, had been loved by the Appleton residents.
Would she ever feel as if she had a place in the town?
“I guess I’ll see you around, Dr. Crenshaw,” he said.
“Yes, and if Abigail is still in town in two weeks, be sure to schedule an appointment for her next vaccination.”
“Oh, I’m sure Remy will take care of that.”
“Well, good night. I hope you get some sleep.”
She truly did hope he had a good night. For Abigail’s sake. Yet she couldn’t help but worry about the tiny, dependent girl. How would she fare with this man who had absolutely no experience dealing with infants?
The insecurity on Jake’s face, as well as the fact Abigail looked so vulnerable in his arms, made Violet’s decision.
To ease her mind and ensure the baby was thriving, she would check on Abigail over the weekend.
* * *
Jake sat in his truck Saturday morning rubbing red, scratchy eyes and trying to read the directions for the soft baby carrier he’d bought first thing that morning as he’d learned his way around the baby section of the local discount store. Abigail had spared him and slept in the cart through the whole shopping trip.
Probably because she’d cried late into the night.
After nearly four hours of inconsolable crying, he’d looked up colic on the internet and thought that must be what she had because she didn’t seem sick otherwise. Still, if she had another night like the last, he’d take her to the doctor to be on the safe side.
With the fabric carrier assembled, adjusted to fit and strapped on him, Jake climbed in the backseat and lifted Abigail from her car seat. Then he followed the step-by-step, very complicated directions for slipping her into the fabric that would hold her against his chest, kind of like a reverse backpack.
As he was hooking one of the head supports, her little body slipped sideways, about stopping his heart. He quickly stabilized her head and snapped the buckle into place. Assured she was peacefully snoozing and wouldn’t fall out of the contraption, he climbed out of the truck, hoping he could work awhile.
His flooring subcontractor, Zeb, a trim man in his sixties wearing jeans and an old blue work shirt, stood at the front of the brick ranch home they were building with his arms crossed, waiting.
“Hey, Zeb. Sorry again about the tile delivery. Pete assured me he’d have it here by nine this morning.”
“We can’t finish as promised if he doesn’t. I’ve already lost a day.” Zeb’s eyes narrowed as he spotted a tiny head peeking out of the carrier contraption. “Uh, congratulations?”
“She belongs to Remy. I’m babysitting.”
A big breath of air whooshed out of him. “That’s good. Was afraid I’d missed something big.”
Jake pressed fingers against his burning eyes. “Had a rough night. She cried for hours.”
“Lots of prayer going on in the West household, huh?”
“You know it. More like begging for mercy.” He laughed. “You know anything about colic?”
“Can’t say that I do.” Zeb squinted into the late-morning sun. “Except I remember one of my girls had luck by changing her baby’s formula.”
Jake nodded. Zeb had kids and grandkids, so Jake could trust parenting tips from the man. “Have you been inside? Did my cabinets get delivered?”
“Not yet. The guys are still taping and muddin’ drywall and priming.”
Jake needed to go inside, make sure everyone was on schedule and the work met his expectations. But a work site wasn’t the place for a baby. “If Pete isn’t here in fifteen minutes, I’ll call him.”
“Thanks, Jake. We’ll do a good job for you.”
“You always do.” He only hired top-notch subcontractors, and Zeb and his crew were the best around.
Jake made a phone call, and as soon as he hung up, Abigail began to stir. She’d be hungry when she woke. She’d also need a fresh diaper...or two or twenty.
There was no way he’d be able to work while caring for a baby. He needed to find child care, and quickly.
Turning to go to the truck, he spotted Violet’s shiny, older model luxury convertible pulling in behind his vehicle. She’d either had it for several years or had bought it used. Either way, he had to admit she might have a good head on her shoulders. Well, except for the brand-new, very expensive tires.
“Oh, hello,” she said as she climbed out.
“Hey.” Had she been out for a Saturday drive and just happened to spot him? Or had she come to check up on Abigail?
The latter was the more likely scenario.
Wearing shorts and a flowery pink top, Violet looked like a breath of fresh air. Her mile-long, shapely legs caught the attention of a few of his men watching from the garage area.
Jake put himself between them and Violet, blocking their view. “I was just headed to change Abigail and get a bottle.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
Would Violet hang around? Jake had parked in the shade and planned to change Abigail’s diaper right there in the truck. Violet better not breathe down his neck and complain about his decision. He had to do a decent job with the diaper, though, or else Abigail would be strapped to his chest, a loaded weapon ready to wreak havoc.
By the time he’d laid the baby on a changing pad placed on the vehicle seat, she was fully awake.
Violet peeked around his shoulder. “Looks like that diaper’s on pretty good.”
“Yep.”
“So I guess you don’t need any help with the clean one.”
“Nope.” He successfully changed her despite the tense woman watching. When Abigail fussed, he popped a bottle in her mouth and tucked her in the crook of his arm.
“How did she sleep last night?”
“Not well. I’ll bring her by the office if we continue to have problems.”
“Problems? What type of problems?” Violet asked, going from the diaper police back to pediatrician.
“She cried from eight until nearly midnight. I think she has colic.”
“Well, there are several things you can try, like—”
“Thanks, but I read about it on the internet. Got some ideas.” He nodded toward town. “And I bought your whole list of baby stuff, so we’re good to go.”
The Pete’s Flooring truck arrived with the tile as Abigail slurped down the formula.
“Excuse me a minute.” Jake strode across the lot.
Happy and bright-eyed, Abigail let the nipple slip out of her mouth. He tucked the bottle in his front pants pocket. Abigail watched him as he directed Pete where to drop off the tile. While Pete’s men unloaded the pallets, the truck with the kitchen cabinets arrived.
“Jake, do you want me to hold her?” Violet called as she picked her way across the muddy expanse of the future front lawn.
“Hang on just a minute.”
Needing to direct the second delivery, and hoping to prove to the doc that he could take care of his baby cousin, Jake safely tucked Abigail in the carrier against his chest, talking sweetly to her in a voice that no longer felt strange. A couple of his men snickered.
Ignoring them, he pointed the second group of deliverymen toward the garage. Once they finished unloading, they started backing out, nearing Pete’s truck.
“Whoa!” Jake rushed over, waving his arms to stop the collision.
Startled by his voice and sudden movement, Abigail shrieked, her arms and legs flailing. He quickly soothed her, patting and cooing.
Jake finally sent the cabinet truck on its way, then turned and found Violet standing at the front of the house watching him. Frowning.
She glared at the mess of scraps and tools around them. “This isn’t an appropriate place for a two-week-old baby. You’re going to have to make other arrangements or—” She huffed.
Or what? he wanted to say but didn’t dare challenge her in the situation. He’d already come to the same conclusion himself.
“This isn’t a normal day,” he said instead. “I’m still juggling, trying to figure out my new schedule with Abigail. I just dropped by to check on the tile delivery.” Mainly, he needed to get through his first full day with a baby.
Today, on four and a half hours of sleep, he’d bought baby equipment and supplies, changed several diapers, fed her two bottles and coaxed three burps. He’d even managed to keep Abigail alive. That victory must count for something.
He probably deserved a medal.
Violet stood looking at him as if he was a nail in one of her four-hundred-dollar tires.
He walked away before he said something rude.
Close on his heels, she followed, her spotless white flip-flops getting mired in mud. He stopped and turned.
Looking at her feet, she didn’t notice his sudden change in direction and barreled into him. Slowly, she looked up, frustration flashing in her pretty eyes. “This place is too hazardous for a baby.”
“You’re more at risk in your open-toed shoes than a baby is tucked against my chest.” The chest Violet stood literally six inches from. “So did you come just to see if I had Abigail with me?”
“I happened to be out. Saw your truck. Thought I’d stop by and see if she needs anything.”
He narrowed his eyes. “More likely, you wanted to make sure she survived the night.”
She jammed her hands on her khaki-clad hips, a perfect warrior pose, cheeks bright red, sparks of fury in her brownish-green eyes. “Okay, you want the brutal truth? I doubt you’re prepared to take care of a baby this young.”
“Ah, so you’re capable of honesty after all. Who would’ve guessed?”
“At least I’m not being nasty, judging you on something I know nothing about.”
Zeb stepped around the corner of the house to see what the commotion was about. Jake waved him off. He didn’t need the man asking questions about him and the new pediatrician.
Violet didn’t flinch at the interruption. Didn’t seem to care they had an audience. She glared at him, ready to battle it out.
He wouldn’t back down, either. “Abigail is fine. Check her out if you want.”
The offer knocked her back a step. With an irritated huff, she peeked at the baby. “I see you bought a carrier. And you appear to have it attached correctly.”
“I can read directions, you know.”
She worked her hands around the edges of the fabric, feeling for all Abigail’s body parts. “You seem to have her in a good position. She looks comfortable.”
Dr. Crenshaw was so close her hair brushed his chin again. Though he’d expect her to smell like a doctor’s office—of sick people and disinfectant—she actually smelled good, like flowers mixed with something fresh and clean.
When she looked up, her eyes met his and widened. The tiny flecks of light gold around her pupils made her look young, vulnerable.
But Violet Crenshaw was not some delicate creature. Hadn’t she just proven it by charging into his job site with both barrels loaded?
She cleared her throat and stepped away.
What had made her change from last night, when she’d been helpful? Was it all because he’d yelled to stop a collision and made Abigail cry? He stepped around Violet to head to the truck. “See you around, Doc.”
She looked annoyed that he’d cut her off. But he’d had enough. Tomorrow at church he would find someone else who could help him. Preferably someone who had experience with a colicky child. Someone who didn’t have gorgeous legs, who didn’t look at him all innocent and vulnerable, twisting his insides into a knot.
Thankfully, the pediatrician didn’t go to Jake’s church. If all went well with Abigail, he wouldn’t have to see Violet again before Remy returned.
* * *
What in the world am I doing?
Meddling.
But that wasn’t the whole truth. She was also there as the result of a nudge from her conscience...or maybe from God?
Violet drew in a slow, deep breath the way she usually did to calm and center herself before walking into the room of a new patient. Only today, instead of an exam room, she walked inside the Appleton Community Church.
She’d awakened early, worried about Abigail West and feeling that nudge. After her morning run, she decided maybe it was time to go back to church—to Jake’s church. She hadn’t attended regularly since high school. Had thought when she moved to Appleton six months ago that she might visit as a way to meet people. But instead, she’d spent her Sunday mornings either doing rounds at the hospital or relaxing and reading the newspaper, afraid God might not welcome her after she’d pushed Him away for so long.
Well, she hoped God would be okay with her returning. And hoped Jake would show up with Abigail so Violet could check on them.
After the way he got defensive yesterday when she asked about the baby, maybe it was time to suggest he find someone else who could offer advice, someone who could help him with child care. Possibly an older teenager or college student in the church or another parent. Surely someone in this congregation would be willing.
Yes, she was definitely meddling. Still, she wouldn’t rest until she knew Jake and Abigail were in good hands.
Violet stepped through the door into the back of the sanctuary. The space was small but beautiful. She stopped and admired the colorful stained glass windows depicting parts of the Bible, stories she’d read as a child each night as her mother or, more often, one of the nannies tucked her in.
Having arrived a bit early, Violet found the crowd was sparse. She’d hoped to run into someone she knew. Instead, she glanced around at strangers, her stomach a tense mass of nerves. She didn’t really know anyone well in Appleton, although she had met a few people when she attended the church’s fund-raising auction for the Food4Kids program back in the spring.
Violet had bid on and won a trip to a lake house that belonged to two local families. She was acquainted with the daughters of one of the owners. Darcy O’Malley worked in the hospital lab, and they had chatted a few times when Violet dropped by the lab on weekends. She’d later met Darcy’s sister, Chloe O’Malley, at her clothing boutique, Chloe’s Closet. Maybe one of them would show up for the service.
Violet scanned the sanctuary looking for Grace Hunt, a kind grandmotherly woman who had dropped by to welcome Violet to town when she’d moved in. Grace had invited Violet to the church on several occasions, so surely she would be here today.
At least Violet would know someone besides Jake.
“Hello. Welcome.” An elderly man in gray slacks, a navy blazer and a red striped tie approached with his hand extended. “I’m Ted Greer, pastor of the church. You’re the new pediatrician, aren’t you?”
Shaking his hand, she smiled. “Yes. Violet Crenshaw. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to visit.”
His kind eyes warmed. “We’re glad you’re here now. Do you work on Sundays?”
“I’m usually on call. I should probably apologize ahead of time. I occasionally may have to leave in the middle of the service.”
“That’s no problem at all. We’d love to have you whenever possible. Maybe next week you can come an hour earlier and join us for Bible study and coffee, as well.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll consider it.” She wasn’t sure she was ready for that, though. Needed to meet a few people first.
“If you’ll pick up a brochure on the way out, you’ll see a listing of Sunday school classes and other small group meetings we have throughout the week. I hope you’ll visit around, find a place where you feel comfortable.”
“Ted?” someone called from the choir loft while tapping a microphone that appeared to be dead.
“Excuse me for running off,” Ted said. “I think they’re having trouble with the sound system. Again, welcome. We’re glad God brought you here today.” He patted her hand, reminding her of her grandfather, and then strode to the front of the church.
Her smile faltered. When she’d left her hometown so many years ago to go to college, severing contact with her parents, she’d hurt her grandfather. Though she’d remained close to him, she’d also disappointed him. On his deathbed, he’d told her he still prayed daily that she would forgive her parents and reconcile. He died having never seen that prayer answered.
And she still hadn’t found it in her heart to forgive them for refusing to help her keep her son, for forcing her to give him up for adoption. She hadn’t seen her parents since her granddad’s funeral, where she’d avoided extended conversation.
Pushing aside the painful memory and the guilt, she steered away from the center aisle and moved to the far left. She inched her way down to about the fourth row from the back and took a seat on the end. As church members entered, they came over to greet her. They were a friendly bunch, making her glad she’d come.
Trying not to be conspicuous, she searched the crowd for Jake in case he’d come in while she was talking. But he wasn’t there.
Her shoulders drooped. Had he had a bad night? An infant would certainly make getting ready difficult. Or maybe he didn’t attend regularly.
Whatever the reason for his absence, she could still check out possible women in the congregation who could help him with Abigail. As the organist played a prelude, Violet scoped out the room. There were definitely a few young mothers she could try to meet to feel them out, see if they might be available.
Five minutes into the service as the pastor was making announcements, the door behind Violet opened. Maybe it was Jake. Her neck muscles tensed.
She glanced back, and sure enough, Jake was headed down the center aisle wearing khaki pants and a light blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He carried Abigail’s car seat as if it didn’t weigh a pound.
Though his beard was neatly trimmed and his hair was freshly washed, the man looked tired. Harried. And he was obviously late.
Had he had trouble giving Abigail a bath? Had they not gotten any sleep last night? Could there be something wrong with Abigail that Violet had missed?
She snapped her attention back to the front of the church and crossed her arms, her teeth clamped tightly together. Jake was a grown man. She shouldn’t worry so much.
Jake slid in the other end of her row—her row, of all places. As he set the carrier on the seat beside him, she tried not to stare. Had he spotted her?
She needed to face the front and concentrate on worshipping.
Yet part of the way through the service, when they stood to sing a hymn, she found herself looking over to check on Abigail. Once she realized she couldn’t get a clear view of the baby, her gaze wandered upward.
Jake’s gaze locked with hers. He didn’t crack a smile or spare a wave. The man was used to being the boss at the work site, the one checking up on others. He apparently didn’t like thinking someone might be checking up on him.
Well, that was too bad. She wiggled her fingers at him in a friendly wave.
He inclined his head in acknowledgment and then turned back to his hymnbook, singing along until the song came to a close.
Always good at blocking out distractions, Violet sat and tuned in to the pastor’s sermon. When he began to preach about the prodigal son, she stilled.
Seriously?
Had God whispered in Pastor Greer’s ear that a wayward believer would show up in need of a good talking-to?
No one in the sanctuary could possibly know how convicted she felt, but Violet’s face burned in shame at how she’d tossed aside her faith for more than a decade. Ever since the day fourteen years ago when that little pregnancy test stick had turned positive, when her prayers for help had gone unanswered.
Though Violet wondered if maybe God had been the one to nudge her to come today, she still couldn’t bring herself to pray. God probably didn’t care to hear from her.
Abigail whimpered. A second whimper cranked up to a good cry, distracting Violet from the message. At the moment, she welcomed the distraction.
Jake looked a bit panicky, rifling through the diaper bag, then popping a pacifier in the baby’s mouth.
Apparently, she spit it out because the crying kicked up a notch.
Maybe Violet should scoot over to help.
Jake unhooked the car seat straps and lifted Abigail out, his movements rushed and awkward. Tough to be calm and collected when everyone around was beginning to stare. Even if they were smiling.
He bounced Abigail in his arms, but she wouldn’t be consoled.
Violet moved an inch and stopped. Would he think she was interfering?
People turned to look at Jake. He grabbed a bottle and impressed Violet with how quickly he popped it into Abigail’s mouth. But she refused it and continued to squall.
With stomach tensing, Violet leaned forward, ready to spring over beside Jake.
Grace Hunt rose from her seat. With her bobbed white hair, she walked up the aisle toward Jake. Smiling, she held out her arms to take the infant. He handed her over along with a pacifier.
As Grace walked away, bouncing Abigail, the crying stopped. Jake heaved a sigh and relaxed against the back of the pew.
Violet had missed her chance. Yet maybe this woman would be the perfect helper for Jake. After the service Violet would suggest Jake ask her for pointers, and maybe Grace could—
Violet’s phone vibrated in her pocket. A message from the hospital reporting a five-year-old patient in the ER with dehydration.
On autopilot, she grabbed her purse and slipped into the side aisle, heading toward the exit. Grace stood in the back swaying, holding the pacifier in Abigail’s mouth. She smiled and nodded at Violet as she passed. Violet returned the smile, yet couldn’t help checking out the baby.
Looking happy and healthy, Abigail sucked on the pacifier while she observed the kind woman holding her.
A wave of disappointment washed over Violet, quickly replaced by irritation. She should not be disappointed that Jake didn’t need her help. She should be pleased this woman had offered assistance. Hadn’t that been one of Violet’s goals for coming today?
Jake had a friend who could teach him to care for the baby. It was time for Violet to return to work mode, to make sure her interest in Jake and Abigail remained strictly professional.
