Читать книгу Sawyer's Special Delivery - Nicole Foster - Страница 10

Hearing Val’s voice, Maya scrambled to her feet, her legs still wobbly with sleep, and attempted to straighten her hopelessly wrinkled sweater and smooth her hair, then gave up, figuring she was only making her appearance worse.

A moment later Val came inside, followed by Sawyer carrying three overstuffed grocery bags. Maya avoided looking anywhere near his direction. The scent of him, clean and masculine, lingered on her and she wondered just how close they’d been sleeping. He’d been on his feet by the time she’d fully awakened, but Maya had a vague memory of his solid warmth pressed against her body as she slept. For some reason she felt vaguely guilty, as if she were a teenager caught by her parents making out with her boyfriend. Of course, her parents would have just smiled and told her to carry on. And besides, she and Sawyer hadn’t done anything naughty enough to inspire even a raised eyebrow.

And Val knew she’d just had a baby. Surely she wouldn’t imagine Maya being up to much more than heavy napping. Although the slightly amused smile on Val’s face coupled with Sawyer’s obvious discomfort made Maya squirm.

“What’s all this?” she asked quickly. “Here, let me help.”

“Hands off,” Val said. “You don’t need to be lifting anything heavy. It’s just a few basics to help you set up housekeeping.” She stopped and looked around. “Madre de Dios, this is worse than I imagined. I don’t even want to see the bathroom.”

Sawyer shifted the bags in his arms. “Good, I have an ally.”

“Val, don’t you need to put those down? In the kitchen? And you,” Maya said, glaring in his direction, “let’s not have this conversation again.”

“Sure, not a problem,” he said with an infuriating smirk. “But two against one, you’re gonna lose.”

“If he’s talking about the state of this house, he’s right,” Val said. When Maya started to protest, Val held up a hand. “I’m sorry, I like your parents. I don’t understand them, but to each his own. But this is just plain bad.” Val planted her palms on her hips. “You’re coming home with me.”

Sawyer came back from setting down the groceries and stood in the kitchen doorway, leaning against the jamb, with every appearance of enjoying himself.

The smirk was still there but Maya decided to ignore him. Right now she had a well-meaning but misguided friend to contend with. “I know you’re only trying to help, but—” She saw the line of her friend’s jaw tighten as Val gritted her teeth.

“But nothing. You were just in a serious car accident and you have a newborn baby, a tiny premature baby, to think of. He’s fragile, Maya. If you bring him home to this…this dump, who knows what he might catch.”

Val almost succeeded in making Maya feel guilty. Almost. “You’re exaggerating just a bit, don’t you think?” She stepped closer to Val, laid a gentle hand on her arm. “I’m feeling better already. I plan to clean things up before Joey’s released from the hospital. It’ll be okay, really.”

“Feeling better?” Val rolled her eyes. “Right. That’s why you were dead asleep on the couch when I got here. I’ve had three kids honey, I know what you’re feeling like right now and better isn’t on the list.”

“See how sensible she’s being,” Sawyer said, smiling when Maya answered him with a glower.

“I just had a baby,” she said. “Of course I’m tired. But it’s not terminal. And I’m not working right now, so I have nothing but time to clean up around here.”

“Who are you trying to kid?” Val countered. “Let’s see.” She started counting off on her fingers. “You’ll be at the hospital, say, eight, ten hours a day, if I know you. Sleeping and eating will take up another ten. So I’m figuring you ought to have at least an hour, maybe two every day to make this place livable. With that schedule you should be done cleaning up about the time Joey is ready for kindergarten.”

Sawyer covered a cough that sounded suspiciously like a laugh.

Maya wasn’t amused. Her patience wearing thin, she stubbornly stuck to her defense of her plan to temporarily move Joey here, even though a small part of her agreed with Sawyer and Val. Getting her parents’ house into shape was probably going to be a much bigger job than she’d bargained for.

“Look, both of you, I appreciate your concern, I really do. But this is my home—Joey’s and my home—for now. I know the pair of you would just as soon see it demolished, but believe it or not, this place has a lot of happy memories for me. And the junk has meaning to me. That hideous painting over there, for example,” she said, pointing to a large framed painting of splattered colors. “I painted that for Shem when I was in the third grade. When he framed it and hung it on the wall right smack in the middle of the living room, I felt like a real artist. It might not look like much around here, but it’s all we have and we will make do.”

Val glanced at the picture, then at Maya. She shook her head, smiling a little. “You always were stubborn, girl. And you know you have me, too, mi amiga.”

“And me,” Sawyer said before realizing exactly what he was saying. Both women turned to stare at him—Val with speculation, Maya as if she wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. What the hell, it was too late to back down now. “I already told you I’ll help you get this place in shape for Joey. And I’m sure you can count on Val and Paul, too.”

What he really wanted to say was he’d help her out of here as soon as possible and find her a place that didn’t reek, wasn’t a fire trap and didn’t have an open invite to any vermin and vagabonds in the neighborhood.

Like my house he thought and then immediately squashed that idea. Get a grip, Morente. He’d had no business suggesting that in the first place and no business even thinking it now. Man, do I need a good night’s sleep.

“Absolutely,” Val said. “We’re all here for you 24-7.”

“Thank you, I know that.” Maya smiled at Val and avoided looking at Sawyer. For some reason she didn’t want to consider too closely, his words stung. I’ll help you get this place in shape for Joey. Of course he wanted to do the decent thing and rescue Joey from what he considered a disaster. Not her, Joey, she thought with a pang.

In the next instant she felt ashamed at herself. How ridiculous was she, feeling disappointed because gorgeous rescue-hero Sawyer Morente was more interested in her days-old baby than in his less-than-stunning mother.

“I’m really grateful for all you’re trying to do,” she told Val. “But we have to find our own way from the start. Actually it’s probably better that Shem and Azure aren’t here. They’d only try to tell me how I should be nurturing Joey’s spirit and trying to read his aura and chart his stars.” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Then they’d just mess the place up even worse by throwing me a big congratulations party.”

“All the more reason to get out of here before they come back,” Sawyer muttered.

“All the more reason you should accept a little help from your friends,” Val said. “You and your little boy are going to need all the help and support you can get. It’s not going to be easy for either of you.”

Maya looked at Sawyer, and for a moment Val wasn’t in the room.

Sawyer could hear Val’s unspoken message: Raising a fatherless baby is going to be hard—for both of you.

Still looking at him as if she understood exactly, Maya said, “Joey has me and I’ll love him enough for two. He doesn’t need a father who doesn’t want him.”

From the recesses of his memory, Sawyer heard his mother saying the same thing to him. You don’t need a father who doesn’t want you.

He recalled the times, as a boy, he’d gotten into fights because kids at school had teased him about not having a father come to watch him play baseball or because he was clumsy in shop class. He’d never had a father to teach him how to use tools the way the other boys had. His mother had always chided him and reminded him that he didn’t need a father who didn’t want him.

And all his life he’d told himself the same thing. Until he’d looked into Joey’s innocent blue eyes and seen a reflection of himself. Now the idea of that little boy growing up with the same doubts and fears he’d had bothered him more than he cared to admit.

Fighting off a surge of unwelcome emotion, he abruptly turned back into the kitchen and began unloading groceries.

There was a silence and then he heard Val say, “Well, how about this? Why don’t you stay with us, just until we get this place into shape? It’ll be cozy, but we don’t mind if you don’t.”

“Val, you are not listening to me. I’ll have a job soon and Joey and I will move into our own place. Try and understand. “

Val heaved a sigh. “I don’t understand, but obviously I can’t change your mind right now. But I’m not taking my groceries back, so don’t even start with me on that. Speaking of which, I’ll give you a hand putting them away.”

“I can do that,” Sawyer said as they walked into the kitchen. He hoped Val would take the hint and leave. “Why don’t you stay and let me make you lunch?” Maya asked, unaware of Sawyer’s wish. “It’s the least I can do after all this.”

“I’d love to but I have to get back home. The girls have ballet class and Paul’s taking our little one for his checkup.” A feline smile slanted her lips. “But maybe Sawyer is hungry.”

The woman didn’t know when to quit, Sawyer decided. Fantasizing about a good use for duct tape, Sawyer resisted telling her to give up on her very obvious and misguided attempt at matchmaking. “Actually I’m more tired than hungry. I think I’ll take off as soon as I put the last of these away.”

“I’ll get those,” Maya said, reaching for a can. He caught her gaze, her eyes brimming with a combination of sympathy and apology.

“Fine, then I guess I’ll head back to my place,” he said, inwardly wincing at the brusqueness in his voice, especially when Maya looked a little taken aback.

She followed him to the door, and when he turned to tell her goodbye, she averted her eyes, her face a becoming pink. “Um, thanks for everything,” she said quickly. “I really—”

“Appreciate it, I know. Forget it,” he said roughly. He looked down at her upturned face, those wide green eyes locked with his, and wondered why he couldn’t just walk away and forget about her.

“I should go,” he said. Fishing around in his pocket, he pulled out his sunglasses and shoved them on. “Call me if you need or want anything.” He opened the door and stepped out, paused and turned back. “You know where to find me.”

She smiled at that, soft and full. “And you know where to find me.”

His arms laden with a pile of dirty clothes he’d kept throwing in his truck from the station but forgetting to bring home, Sawyer kicked his door shut with his heel. Regina had come this morning, and the place smelled fresh, of lemon oil and floor wax. His housekeeper would ream him for bringing her the heap of sweaty, smoky clothes from work, but he was used to that.

Regina Cortez had been taking care of him and Cort one way or another since they’d moved to the estate. She’d been working for his grandparents for a couple of years before his mother had come to live there with her two young sons and asked Regina to be their part-time babysitter. From the beginning Sawyer and Cort considered Regina family rather than hired help. Even now she fussed over the both of them and had made it her life’s work to find them both nice girls to settle down with, since she was firmly convinced both of them were overdue for marriage and family.

Tugging off his boots, Sawyer left them by the door, lest she have another reason to curse him out in Spanish for leaving black scuff marks on her shiny beige ceramic tiles.

Sawyer strode to the gleaming kitchen and tugged open the stainless-steel fridge. “Beer, beer or beer?” he muttered to himself, rummaging through shelves largely empty except for the bonanza of imported beers. “Come on, Reggie, didn’t you leave me some of your world-famous tamales? Ah, there they are.” He pulled a tray from behind a six-pack. “Atta girl, I knew you wouldn’t hold that gouge in the coffee table against me forever.”

He snapped the beer and drank it while he shoved the tamales in the microwave to warm, then wandered into his living room and snatched up the TV remote. He sat back in his favorite leather chair and propped his legs up on the coffee table. He began channel surfing, not really watching anything. His thoughts weren’t here in his gorgeous, custom-decorated hacienda. His thoughts were back at the Rainbow love shack. His thoughts had never left Maya.

Why was she so attached to that run-down excuse for a house? Maybe because it was a home, he mused.

Sawyer looked around him at the beautiful Spanish antiques, Indian rugs, pottery. Most of it, including the rich leathers and upholstery, had been given to him by his mother from the estate house furnishings. His mother had bought the house shortly after Sawyer had joined the Air Force, with plans of finally moving off her parents’ estate. But she’d always found a reason not to make the move, and when Sawyer came back to Luna Hermosa, she had insisted he move in to this house. She had offered the house to Cort, but he had flat-out refused to live there. Sawyer hadn’t been excited about a house, either, because he thought it was too big and too fussily decorated for his taste. And if his mother hadn’t been ill at the time and determined he accept, he would never have agreed to live here.

The house had every amenity money could buy. And yet it was still only a house, a shell. Impersonal. Cold. The house had almost nothing of him in it except his old leather chair—and that he’d had to fight his mother tooth and nail to keep after she’d consigned it to the junk pile.

He smiled, thinking of Maya’s grade school painting on the wall. Hardly the Gorman that hung over his fireplace. But it was a part of Maya, like her mother’s pillows and heaven knew what other trinkets and odd junk. All of it worthless, except to Maya. He took another swig of his beer, his other hand still impatiently surfing his hundred-plus channels of cable service for something worth watching.

Hell, if that place means so much to her and she won’t leave it, then at least it’s going to be up to code and safe for her to bring Joey home to.

Sawyer dug his cell phone out of his jeans pocket and punched in his brother’s number. “Hey, Cort, you wanted to talk, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“How about now?” Sawyer suggested. He figured Cort would make the time for a brotherly heart-to-heart, especially since Sawyer hadn’t bothered to tell him what their talk would be about.

Half an hour later Sawyer slung a towel around his waist and went to answer the doorbell only to nearly get hit in the face by the door when Cort shoved his way through the entrance. “Come on in,” Sawyer said.

“Sorry. I got tired of waiting for you to answer,” Cort grumbled. He looked harried and not at all glad to be there.

Sawyer pulled the towel from his waist and dried his chest. “Go grab a beer while I throw on some pants,” he said, heading for the bedroom, where he tugged on a fresh pair of black jeans.

“Where’s my brew?” Cort yelled from the kitchen.

“I don’t stock rotgut beer.” Sawyer strode into the kitchen, still bare-chested, and prodded his brother away from the fridge.

“You used to. But that was when we saw each other once in a while.”

“Stop bellyaching. Here, I found one.” Sawyer handed the bottle to Cort, thinking he must have been working out like a fiend. His younger brother had always had strong arms and broad shoulders and he’d always worked out, but he looked a size larger in the faded black T-shirt and worn jeans.

“So, you finally ready to at least talk about this?”

Sawyer fingered his damp hair back from his face. “Yeah, whatever. But first I need a favor.”

Cort set his beer down, leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “I knew it. The invite was a ploy. And I’ll wager it’s another Sawyer-to-the-rescue stunt, isn’t it?”

“It’s a worthy cause.”

“And does that cause have green eyes and red hair?”

“Actually he doesn’t have any hair yet.”

“What?”

“Her baby, Joey.”

Cort looked unconvinced. “Like I believe that. Saving babies in distress isn’t exactly your style. You usually prefer rescuing someone when it requires you to jump out of a plane or climb a mountain through ten feet of snow or— What’s that latest rescue group you’re heading up now? The mounted saviors, led by Zorro himself? Last I heard, you were riding poor old Diablo through the rapids of the Rio Grande to drag some drunken rafter out of the river.”

“Diablo likes adventure,” Sawyer said, not bothering to defend himself. Cort didn’t exactly spend his time in sheltered safety.

“He told you that, did he?”

“I know my horse.”

“Sure you do,” Cort said, smirking. “The poor beast doesn’t have much chance to avoid potential loss of life and limb with you around. So, anyhow, what’s with this baby? I’m guessing this is the kid you delivered the other night.”

Sawyer nodded. “He was premature and he needs a safe place to come home to after he’s out of the hospital.”

“And this is your responsibility because…?”

“Because he’s a helpless baby and his mother doesn’t have many options right now. Besides,” Sawyer said, searching for some reasonable explanation that would cut short Cort’s questions, “we went to school together.”

“Oh, well, that makes perfect sense then,” Cort said. “I’m sure the other dozens of women you went to school with would love to hear about this.”

“Will you cut me some slack here?”

Cort took a lazy swig from his bottle. “Okay, okay, so I’ve heard. Maya Rainbow is back in town, unmarried and unemployed, and she’s moved into the love shack. And you’re so taken with this baby that you’ve decided it’s your duty to rehab the place for her. I get the picture.”

Ignoring the heavy sarcasm in Cort’s tone, Sawyer said, “You haven’t seen the place lately. It ought to be condemned, but she’s determined to live there with Joey. So, will you help me?”

Cort shoved away from the counter to toss his empty bottle in the trash can. “Of course I’ll help you. Don’t I always?”

“Thanks, I knew you’d see it my way, little brother.”

“I’ll help,” Cort added, “on one condition.”

Sawyer’s grin faded. “I figured that was too easy. As if I have to ask what this condition of yours is.”

“After you’re done with this latest rescue mission, we set a date to go see Garrett. I want to get this over with once and for all.” Cort hesitated, eyeing Sawyer as if he was trying to gauge his reaction, then said, “I talked to him a couple of days ago.”

Sawyer looked at him in disbelief, then shook his head. “Great, good for you. So, what, you’re all ready to forgive and forget now?”

“No, but I’m ready to listen. How about you?”

“Listen to what?” Sawyer moved past Cort and went to the refrigerator for another beer, not because he particularly wanted one but because he wanted an excuse to break off the conversation and get his temper under control. Getting mad at Cort wouldn’t solve anything, but he was getting tired of Cort’s campaign to bring about a family reunion.

“I don’t know,” Cort said. “And we’re never going to know unless we talk to him. If nothing else, maybe we can finally bury it.”

“Talking to him isn’t going to make it any deader for me than it already is.” But even as he said the words Sawyer knew that they weren’t quite true. A small part of him still did want answers, if only to know what had been so wrong that his father despised his oldest sons.

“Will you at least think about it?” Cort asked quietly. “I told him I’d call back in a couple of weeks and let him know.”

Sawyer started to refuse outright, but Cort had always been there for him and obviously this was important to his brother for some reason Cort hadn’t bothered to reveal yet. “I’ll think about it, okay? That’s all I can promise.”

And as soon as he’d said it, Sawyer began to wish he hadn’t agreed to even that much.

Joey’s big blue eyes fluttered closed and Maya shifted him in her arms. He’d just finished nursing and now he lay contented against her breast, his little breaths coming in short, even puffs.

Maya pulled her blouse down and shifted her small bundle to her shoulder. Gently, her hand covering his entire back with each pat, she burped him. His tummy full, he let out a satisfied sigh and drifted into a deep sleep.

The door to the hospital room opened quietly and Dr. Kerrigan stepped in. “Is he finished?” she asked quietly.

“Yes, he’s been nursing for the last half hour straight. Here—” Maya moved Joey back to her arms “—touch his belly. It’s hard as a rock.”

Lia reached over and laid a palm on the rounded pink mound. “Well there’s certainly nothing wrong with his appetite. He’s gained five ounces already.”

“Really? That much? Does that mean I can take him home?”

“Patience, Mom.” Lia moved her hand from Joey to lay it on Maya’s arm. “He’s on a roll here, so let’s not interrupt it. You see, there may be latent effects from the trauma of the accident that haven’t surfaced yet. I want to keep him under round-the-clock observation a little longer.”

“I know, it’s better for him.” A tear welled in Maya’s eye and rolled down her cheek. “I miss him every minute of every hour of every day I’m not with him, but right now I have nothing to offer him to come home to.”

“Hey, you have you. That’s all he needs.” Lia pulled up a chair and sat next to Maya. “What’s going on here? This doesn’t sound like you. Has something happened?”

“Something else, you mean?” Maya tried to laugh. She impatiently swept the tears from her face. “No. It’s probably just postpartum depression.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. In your case, I think maybe not. Why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

Maya’s pride warred with her need to release her pain, her fears, the emotions she’d been keeping bottled up, hiding from everyone, herself included. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” she burst out at last.

“Well, no, having a baby in the middle of a storm after a car accident isn’t ideal, but you both came out of it basically unscathed,” Lia said, smiling a little. “Joey is thriving, and you’re recovering from the accident and childbirth faster than just about anyone I’ve ever seen in similar circumstances.”

“I know. We are very lucky. But I wasn’t talking about the accident. I was talking about everything else. I was supposed to be married, with a loving husband, a job, a nice, clean home to bring our baby back to.”

“Oh, that.”

Maya managed a laugh between tears that now flowed freely. “Yeah, that. The reality is Joey has no father, a sad excuse for a home and an unemployed mother who bursts into tears at every opportunity.”

Lia laid a gentle hand on Maya’s shoulder. “Maya, listen to me. Do you know how many women I see who are bringing their babies back to homes where they wind up abused, neglected, abandoned?”

Maya shook her head. “I can’t even think about that.”

“Believe me, I don’t want to. Especially when there’s little or nothing I can do about it. But my point is Joey has more than a lot of kids I see every day,” Lia said firmly. “He has a mother who adores him and who knows how to take care of him. He has a mother who will get a job, who will make a home, who will be there for him. That can be enough. If you let it be.”

“I hope so,” Maya murmured, gazing down at her little boy. She took a deep breath and started to thank Lia, but a slight noise turned them both to the door.

Sawyer stood there, his eyes on her and Joey, and Maya had the sinking feeling he’d just overheard way more than she had ever wanted him to.