by Susan Gable
"Thanks." She wiped her nose, then tucked the hankie into her pocket.
"You okay?"
"No."
"Didn't think so." He draped a thin arm around her shoulders and turned her toward the house. "Let's git you inside." He jerked his head in the direction of the neighbor's house. "You don't want that old biddy Casterlin seeing you out here crying, do ya? She'll be on the phone in minutes, spreadin' the tale all over the county."
She let him guide her steps, since the tears made everything all quivery.
"What do I do now, Pappy?" Back in the kitchen, she hung her coat up on the hook.
"Well, I know you got chores to git done. Do them. Then you can put your feet up and read, or go over to Nola's house and have a gabfest, or I got a tape of the latest Griz game. You could watch that with me, if you want."
"Now there's an offer I don't get every day." A tiny smile tugged at her mouth. What would she do without this angel in her life? Strange, but he felt more right than her parents and brother had. She loved them, but he knew her better now. "But I meant more in terms of the big picture, Pap." She dragged out a chair and sank down, pressing her forehead against the table. "I don't know what to do."
The chair next to hers scraped the floor. "My Doris always said if you followed your heart, you'd never go wrong. What's your heart tellin' you, Missy?"
"My heart hurts so much I don't know what it's telling me."
A gnarled hand patted her back. "Well, you work on listening to it. It will tell you what to do."
"I wish…"
"What, Missy?"
She shrugged, not knowing what to wish.
The hand on her back hesitated a moment, then resumed offering comfort. "It will all work out right in the end."
If only she had his faith. Or her father's. But working out right, and working out well, those were two different things.
She could let David take Sarah away from her, and have her heart shatter into a million pieces.
Or she could marry a man who didn't love her, and probably never would.
Neither option was a happy ending.
Reality sucked.
Give her fiction any day.
"Aren't you going to eat?" David nudged the plate a little closer to his daughter, who sat on a green plastic booster seat across the table from him.
She shook her head.
"I cut it up the way you like it." When she wouldn't tell the waitress what she wanted, he'd ordered pepperoni pizza for her.
"My tummy feels funny." She cuddled her worn doll closer.
"Maybe that's because it's hungry. You need to eat." When she still didn't even attempt the pizza, he tried another approach. "How about you just drink some of your orange pop?"
"Momma says pop's just for special 'casions."
"Well, this is a very special occasion. This is our first daddy-daughter trip." David pushed the covered cup of soda forward. "A few sips? That might help your tummy."
She shook her head again. David swallowed an exasperated sigh. Surely she'd eat when she got hungry enough. She wasn't going to starve to death until then. It wasn't worth getting upset about or antagonizing her over.
"Okay, do you want to go back to the motel room and lie down?" The first thing he'd done when they'd arrived in Missoula was get them checked in to a motel. Sarah had inspected the room and pronounced it "not as pretty as the rooms we have at the bed-and-breakfast."
"No."
"What do you want to do then?"
"I wanna go home," she said softly.
He smiled to hide the fact that her words tore at him. She seemed determined to make this as difficult as possible. Or was it just that his kid didn't like strangers, didn't like crowds and simply wanted to be in her own home? He could relate to a lot of that.
But if she wouldn't trust him on a short trip like this, how was he going to get her to go to Erie with him?
"I was thinking more along the lines of doing some shopping, sport." He dug in his pocket and pulled out the paper Lexie had given him. "Your mom's got quite a few things on this list. I think it's going to take a while to get all this stuff, so we should probably get started."
On the way out of the restaurant, he offered Sarah a red-and-white peppermint. "This might help your tummy."
She accepted the candy, giving him back the wrapper. "Why do they call it peppermint? It don't taste like pepper."
David chuckled, opening the door to the SUV. "I don't know, sport. That's a good question."
At the Southgate Mall, he parked outside JCPenney. "Don't you think you should leave your doll in the car? I wouldn't want her to get lost."
Sarah nodded solemnly, then placed the doll in the car seat. "Be good, Annie. We'll be back."
David lifted her down from the SUV. "I need you to hold my hand while we're here." He held his out.
She looked at it, then tilted her head to stare at him for several long seconds. When she placed her fingers into his palm, he smiled and gripped them carefully, afraid to spook her if he tried to hold too tight.
Once inside the department store, she edged even closer to him, practically attaching herself to his leg. "Let's start with a coat, okay?" he said. After finding the little girls' section, he made his way through the closely placed racks. "How about this one?" He held up a beige coat.
She shook her head.
So, he tried again. With a pink one. Same response.
The scenario repeated about eight times. Finally, he asked, "Why don't you tell me what kind of a coat you do want. Besides one where the zipper doesn't get stuck."
"Can I really have whatever I want?"
"Sure."
Her eyes widened. "A purple one," she whispered. "With fuzzy stuff around the hat and bottom."
They searched through the entire stock of coats, but didn't find one that matched her criteria. Sarah's mouth turned down, her whole face looked so dejected he felt miserable.
"Don't worry," he said. "This is just the first place. There are more we can look at."
"Really?"
"Really." David loved the way her hand felt in his as they wandered into the main mall. The fact that she stuck so close to him, obviously using him as her security system, sure felt good, too. Right. The way a daughter should feel about her father.
"That's Momma's favorite store." Sarah pointed out Waldenbooks as they passed. "We should get her a book."
"We can do that." As long as it wasn't a romance book. Or some fantasy novel. Maybe they should get her something nonfiction. Did they have a book entitled Creating a Happy Marriage with the Father of Your Child? Maybe 12 Steps to a Successful Platonic Marriage?
Except he didn't want it to be platonic. One night with her had more than convinced him of that. "On the way back. And there's always tomorrow, too."
"We're gonna shop tomorrow, too?"
"Depends on how much stuff we manage to find today, I suppose."
Farther down the hall, David paused outside a photography studio, then looked down at Sarah. The plastic photo holder in his wallet was empty. No evidence of his child, no pictures to whip out to share with other proud parents. "Let's go in here a minute."
Inside, a poster advertised holiday backgrounds and Christmas cards with adorable children. Several young women jostled strollers, a pair of twin boys sat in chairs along the wall, feet dangling, kicking at the rungs. Most of them gave Sarah a quick once-over. David winced at some of the stares. One child pointed a finger at her; his mother poked him in the side and whispered harshly at him.
Sarah wrapped an arm around his leg and pressed the marked side of her face into his khakis.
He caressed her hair, letting the soft texture soothe his desire to lash out at the people in the store.
"Can I help you?" asked the young woman behind the counter.
"Do I need to make an appointment to have my daughter's picture taken?"
"As you can see, we're kind of clogged up right now. If you'd like to come back in about an hour, we shoul
d be able to do it then."
Sarah shook her head against his leg, and tugged on his pants. He bent over.
"I don't want my pitchure took," she whispered. "Let's go get a purple coat."
David unwrapped her arm and knelt on the floor. Using one finger beneath her chin, he lifted her face until she looked at him. "I need a picture of my beautiful little girl." He leaned forward, brushing his lips over her right cheek. "I love you, Sarah."
Ignoring the soft awww's and gooey looks he was getting now from the moms in the studio, he took Sarah's hand and rose to his feet. "We'll be back in an hour, then."
"Child's name?" The woman held a pen over a pad.
"Sarah Mitchell."
Another tug on his pants had him bending over again. "I'm Sarah Jacobs," she murmured.
He cleared his throat, straightening. "Sarah Jacobs Mitchell."
She nodded, obviously satisfied with that. "Let's go find your purple coat."
* * *
Chapter 13
« ^ »
Lexie threw herself down on the bed. The guest rooms were once again pristine and ready for new arrivals, the bathrooms all clean and three loads of laundry washed, dried, folded and put away.
Four loaves of bread baked. Just over two dozen chocolate chip cookies—there would have been more, but she'd eaten enough of the raw dough to make herself queasy.
Now what?
The silence in the house, especially from the room attached to hers, echoed inside her.
Lexie bounced back off the mattress and hustled downstairs to the library. Bypassing the shelves full of paperbacks, she ran a finger along the spines of the old leather books she'd collected, some from the attic, many from flea markets and garage sales.
"Pick one and sit, Missy. I'm exhausted jest from watching you today."
She turned. "I don't know that I can, Pappy. When I sit, I think too much."
"So, go next door and gab with Nola. Do something. Take advantage of the free time."
"I don't want free time, Pap. I want Sarah." And she didn't want to gab about it with Nola, who didn't know the whole truth of the situation. If her friend knew David had proposed, she'd be lobbying full force for a marriage.
"I know you do." He shuffled his feet. "You know I'll help you however I can, right? I mean, if you need a lawyer, we'll git one."
"Oh, Pappy." Lexie moved toward him. "Where would I be without you?" She embraced him, nose twitching, trying not to sneeze at the scent of cherry pipe tobacco that clung to his old gray sweater. He thought he was fooling her, but she knew he hadn't quit. The only thing she didn't know was where he was hiding his stash. "I love you, Pap."
He cleared his throat, patting her awkwardly on the shoulder. "I love you, too, Missy. And I'm the one who'd be lost without you." Backing from her arms, he shook a finger at her. "Now find something to do afore you drive us both crazy tonight."
"I think I'll take a walk."
"That sounds good. So, go on. Git."
The streetlights were coming on as she left the house. Pulling up the collar of her jacket, she turned right and headed down the sidewalk. Wood smoke rose from Mrs. Casterlin's chimney. Leaves crunched beneath Lexie's feet as she passed Nola's house. Farther down, light spilled from the market.
A half block later, she waved to Bob Schrieber as he locked the front door of the old Victorian house he'd converted into a bookstore. They shared the same passion for books. Lexie suspected he ran the store not to make a profit so much as to give himself something to do and to bring books into the lives of other people.
The whole town had the feel of a comfortable flannel shirt. Though she'd been born and raised in Pennsylvania, she'd actually grown up here. These people had embraced and welcomed her and Sarah, made her part of their homes.
The odor of fresh paint drifted to her as she passed the building Frank Colton was converting into a martial arts school. Maybe she'd enroll herself, so the next time the urge to kick or kiss David came over her, she'd be fully trained in the kicking department.
As for the kissing…
Much as it galled, her lips could remember every nuance of the way he kissed.
And they wanted more, too.
Stupid lips.
She rubbed her fingers over her mouth, like it would erase the thought. The sidewalk gave way to dirt beneath her feet, and Lexie crossed Main Street
, ending up in front of the firehall. By next year, if everything worked out, there'd be a new engine parked inside.
Lexie walked briskly back toward the other end of town, arms swinging. But even the activity couldn't keep thoughts of Sarah and David from her mind.
Did her baby miss her?
How was David making out, taking care of her by himself for the first time?
Sarah came out of the bathroom and crawled onto the double bed closest to the wall. The tag on her pajama shirt stuck out in front of her neck—she'd put them on inside out and backward.
David pulled the covers down, and she slid between the white sheets.
The night hadn't been a complete disaster. He'd gotten the employees at the photography studio to keep other people out, and had even coaxed a tiny smile from his daughter. She'd eaten cookies from the mall, and he'd been happy enough with that.
They hadn't found a purple coat with fuzzy stuff yet.
And he hadn't been crazy enough to try to attempt getting her to take a bath, let alone washing her hair.
Sarah's curls sprawled across the pillow as she lay down. "My tummy feels funny again."
"Are you hungry?"
She shook her head.
Probably just homesick. She'd moped all the way back to the motel, pleading to go home. "Here's your doll." He placed the little rag body next to hers, then tucked the covers securely around her sides. "Is that better?"
"No."
He brushed his hand across her forehead the way his mom had done when he was young. She didn't feel warm, but what did he know? "Would you like to call your momma and say good night to her?" Amazing how easy it had become to call Lexie Sarah's momma.
Damn, he hoped Lexie wanted to keep the job. Hoped she was discovering at this very moment how much she didn't like being apart from the little girl she'd made her own.
"Can I?" Sarah rolled onto her side to face him.
"Sure." He punched the number into his cell phone.
"Mill Creek Bed-and-Breakfast. This is Lexie, how may I help you?"
"I've got a little girl here who wants to say good night to her momma," David said. "You wouldn't happen to know where I could find her momma, would you?"
Lexie inhaled sharply. "David! I didn't expect you'd call."
David passed the phone to Sarah, who didn't stir more than needed to take it and prop it against her ear. "Momma? I miss you."
While he listened to the one side of the conversation, he sat on the other double bed and kicked off his brown hiking shoes. Sarah didn't talk about much, offering one or two words here and there in response to whatever Lexie said.
"Sing me asleep." Sarah's eyes slid shut. Her features softened as she listened, and the edges of her lips turned up a bit.
That look of contentment reinforced for David that by cosmic intervention, his child had the perfect mother.
How could he have been so blind as to overlook Lexie, who'd been right under his nose his whole life, and have fallen for someone like Angela?
Though at first, Angela had been fun. Adventurous. Slightly daring. Definitely exciting.
And now, the thing he found most exciting about a woman was the fact that she could love a little girl with a passion and devotion he wished every kid could have.
Hell, a part of him wished he could have it.
How fair is that, to want her to love you so deeply, and you're not willing to love her back?
He hated that voice of reason.
Sarah sighed, eyebrows scrunching up. "My tummy's funny, Momma." After a pause, she opened her eyes and held the phone
out toward him. "Momma wants to talk to you."
"Hey."
"Is she okay?" Concern filled Lexie's voice. "Is she running a fever?"
"I don't think so. She doesn't feel warm." He rose from the bed and moved near the door, lowering his voice. "I was thinking maybe it's just all the excitement, you know? Homesickness."
"What did Sarah have for dinner? Maybe something didn't agree with her."
"Uh, well, she wasn't very hungry."
"Does that mean she didn't eat anything for dinner?"
"Of course not. She ate. Just not much." Just three big cookies from the bakery in the mall. But somehow he didn't think that news would make Lexie very happy, nor qualify him for Father of the Year.
"If Sarah's stomach's upset, you could try giving her some flat soda. A clear one, like Sprite."
"How do I get pop to go flat without waiting hours?"
"You take two glasses, and pour it from glass to glass. It'll go flat pretty quick."
Sarah rolled onto her back and moaned. "I want Momma."
"David? Was that Sarah?"
"Yeah. Look, I have to go—"
Sarah sat bolt upright in the bed, sheer panic on her pale face. "I need a bucket!"
"Uh-oh, did she say she needs a bucket?"
David moved toward the bed. "Yes. What does that— Oh God. Never mind. Sarah just showed me what she meant by that." He sighed. "I really liked those shoes." Next time he'd be sure to order the waterproof style.
"I can be there in about an hour and a half—"
"No! I can handle it. Look, I have to go."
"Call me in the morning and let me know how she is!"
"I will." David closed the phone and dropped it on the night table. Trying hard not to gag and follow suit himself, he went to comfort his sick child and clean things up.
Daddy Lesson #4: When a sick kid says, "I need a bucket," get a bucket immediately.
"You sure you're okay?" David asked as he helped Sarah out of the truck. "That breakfast is staying put in your tummy?"
She nodded. "I'm better now."
"Good."
She offered her hand without hesitation this time, and he resisted the crazy urge to dance through the parking lot.