by Jill Lynn
“Eventually, Hudson will stop crying. He’ll fall asleep or become too exhausted to continue the fit. But I doubt that’s even happening. He probably calmed down on the way home. I’m sure Gage is just getting him to bed or has fallen asleep himself. Which is why—” Cate motioned to the phone “—he hasn’t answered your texts yet. You offered to drive over and help. He hasn’t responded. He’ll accept if he needs you. I think you have to let it go.”
Emma’s teeth pressed into her lip. “I’m not very good at that.”
Cate laughed. “Welcome to the club.” She followed the comment with a yawn. One that reminded Emma that she should let Cate get to bed. The poor woman had been so worn-out lately.
“I think we’d both better get some sleep.” Emma loaded their mugs into the dishwasher, then gave her sister-in-law a hug before hoofing it up the hill to her cabin.
The sound of gunfire greeted her as she stepped inside. Mackenzie had on another one of her old Western movies. For each romantic movie Emma consumed, Mackenzie watched something with cowboys and gunfights. And—Emma peered around to the front of the couch—she often managed to fall asleep despite the noise levels. Tonight was no different. Emma rounded the sofa, moving the blanket from the back of the couch so that it covered Kenzie.
In an attempt to keep herself from walking back out of the cabin and driving over to check on Hudson and Gage, Emma changed into pajamas. She removed her makeup and tossed her hair up into a messy bun. But even her gray jammies covered in charcoal zebras wouldn’t keep her from zooming straight over to Gage’s if he asked her for help.
If only the man would text to say they were okay. Or send a smoke signal. Something. Anything to ease her current agitation.
After brushing her teeth, Emma returned to her room and checked her phone. Still no message. The night flashed by in spurts of sleep and worry. Dreams that included Gage ending up at the emergency room with a crying Hudson. A new family coming to take Hudson and Emma not getting the chance to say goodbye.
Three was the last number she recalled seeing on her alarm clock, and then bright sun streamed in through her blinds. While she was thankful she’d finally slept, panic set in. Now was the time she usually arrived at Gage’s.
Emma tore out of bed.
She dressed in a burgundy wraparound sweatshirt with leggings and lined ankle rain boots. After brushing her teeth and winding her hair up into a bun, she skipped breakfast or tea, instead heading over to Gage’s.
At Emma’s knock, Gage called for her to come in. She opened the door, taking her first real breath when she saw Hudson in the high chair, Gage feeding him. She dropped her purse to the floor and pitched her coat on top, then crossed over to them. Her hand rested on Gage’s shoulder as she bent to kiss and smell Hudson’s sweet head. Baby shampoo with the faint hint of last night’s dinner. Nothing better.
“You’re both okay.” With the flip of a switch, Emma’s respiratory system began functioning again. She didn’t remove her hand from Gage’s shoulder. His long-sleeved flannel shirt was warm and comforting under her fingertips because he was in it. And just like she needed to see Hudson was all right, she needed to know the same about Gage.
“Barely.” Amusement danced across Gage’s features, and Emma swallowed a sigh of girlish attraction. If he’d had a tough night, the man didn’t show it. He was as handsome as ever. Emma had been so rushed this morning that she hadn’t put on makeup. Probably looked as if she’d just rolled out of bed. Maybe because that’s exactly what she’d done.
“Sorry I didn’t answer your texts. I didn’t see them until this morning. I was too busy with this guy.” He nodded toward Hudson, who was drawing across his high chair tray with a finger full of pureed baby food.
“Oh, it’s fine. No problem.” Only shaved a year off my life. Emma pulled out a chair and sank into it. What had she thought would happen? Of course Gage and Hudson would be okay. This morning all of her panic felt silly, but ten hours ago she’d been tormented by what might be occurring over here.
“And in answer to your apology text, you don’t have any reason to feel bad. Enough of that.”
Except for the fact that she’d coerced him into going out. “So did Hudson calm down on the way home last night?”
“Ah, no. Took him a while to settle, but he did eventually.”
“How’d you get him to stop crying?”
“I gave up.” Gage spooned another bite into Hudson’s open mouth. “I tried everything and nothing worked, so eventually I just held him and let him cry.”
Emotion clogged her throat. “And you said you didn’t know what you were doing.”
“I don’t, crazy woman.”
“Sounds like the perfect answer to me.”
“For some reason you’re completely biased and think I can do all things when it comes to Hudson.” His shoulder nudged into hers. “I’m not sure where you came up with that theory, but it definitely hasn’t been proven.”
Disappointingly, his phone rang, interrupting the touch that wouldn’t have lasted anyway.
Gage set the spoon and baby food down on the tray and rose, and Emma seized them both before Hudson could make a mess of it. He answered his phone while Emma took over feeding Hudson.
“I’m sorry you cried so much last night, kiddo. That breaks my heart.” Hudson stared at her in answer, then broke into a camera-worthy grin. “Well, aren’t you in a good mood this morning?”
Gage had walked down the hall to take the phone call, but Emma could overhear him talking. “That’s too bad. Sounds like they would have been a good fit...I understand...Okay, thanks...I appreciate it.”
He returned to the kitchen, the phone in his palm. What had that been about?
“I need to get going if you’re okay finishing up with Hudson. Ford’s waiting for me.”
“Of course. Sorry I was late this morning. I... There was this dream...and then the emergency room.” Gage’s face contorted with confusion, as it should. Pull yourself together, girl. “I overslept.” There you go with the forming of words, Emma! Well done.
Gage’s hands landed on her shoulders. He bent so that she couldn’t get away from his piercing stare. Not that she wanted to. “Don’t you dare apologize. You’ve already done so much for Hudson and for me that I can’t ever thank you enough. Got it?”
Emma swallowed. Nodded. Inhaled. Did he realize how good he smelled? She wanted to tell him that, no, she hadn’t “got it” yet, and could he stay right where he was and convince her some more?
Gage backed up, his hands falling away. Probably a good thing since Emma wasn’t here to entertain a crush on the man. She was here for Hudson. In the hopes that he would change Gage’s life and vice versa. The two of them were meant for each other.
“So that was Ford on the phone? I didn’t mean to overhear, but...” I’ve turned into a nosy shrew, so I figured I’d just ask straight out.
“It was Rita. We’ve been keeping in touch, hoping to find a home for Hudson. She put out some feelers to extended family, even friends. A couple from Rita’s church was looking to adopt so we thought they might be a match for Hudson, but they just found out they’re pregnant and said it’s not the right timing for them. Really stinks that they said no. It would be nice if I could quit taking advantage of you and find the right family for Hudson.”
A fire lit inside of her. “Don’t you dare say that. Watching Hudson is exactly where I want to be right now. I’m not put out or upset. I love spending time with him.”
A smile tugged on Gage’s lips, his hands lifting in defense. “Okay.”
“You’re really great with Hudson. You’re loving him well and doing an amazing job with him. I hope you know that.” How could Gage continue to consider giving Hudson up? Didn’t he know that he was already falling for the boy? The winds—or maybe breezes—of change were beginning to blow, and yet Gage was stil
l working on his plan to find another home for Hudson. Why couldn’t he see that he was the right choice?
Gage snorted. “I don’t think amazing is the right word. Surviving is one thing, but thriving is another. Last night just confirmed that I’m not the right fit for this. For Hudson. Guess I have you to thank for that.”
Emma’s mouth dropped open. No-no-no. “But...but...” But he’d handled it! Things had turned out fine! She needed to correct Gage, only his declaration and the fact that he’d given her credit had rendered her speechless.
“Rita did say she’ll keep trying, so that’s great. It’s a setback, but it’s not the end of the world. With how much I’ve been praying for the right match for Hudson, it’s good to know without a doubt this wasn’t it.”
Gage’s phone dinged and he checked it. “It’s Ford. I’d better go.” He slid it into his back pocket, put on his coat and boots, then exited the house after a quick goodbye.
“But what if this is the right home?” Sure. Now Emma could speak. Not that Gage wanted to hear what she had to say. The man didn’t have any doubts about finding another family for Hudson. But how could he ignore what was right in front of him?
“Da.” Hudson added a new sound to his repertoire, almost as if he was attempting to answer Emma’s forlorn question. Then he knocked the spoon out of her hand, sending the remaining food flying as moisture pricked her eyes.
“I messed that up, didn’t I? And I don’t have anyone to blame but my pushy self.”
Hudson sucked on his fingers, making a smacking sound.
“But I still think this is the right place for you even if Gage doesn’t see it yet.”
The baby dragged his fingertips through the food splattered across his tray, then reached out as if offering some to Emma.
“I think I’ll get my own breakfast, Sir Hudson, but thank you for the offer.” She mock bowed. He chortled.
Emma joined him. How could Gage not see how much life Hudson brought into his world? How was he willing to give that up? Gage Frasier, I’m nowhere near done with you, and Hudson isn’t, either.
So what if last night had been a temporary setback? It wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed. And since that family had just said no, that gave Emma more time.
Time for Hudson to work his way into Gage’s heart, and time for Emma to sit back, pray and watch.
Chapter Six
Gage owed Emma approximately one million dollars, and the ticker was still running. On top of all she usually did for Hudson and him, she’d insisted on staying with the baby tonight while Gage met with Pastor Higgin.
What was supposed to have been a short dinner meeting regarding some land the church was interested in buying had morphed into two-plus hours. Gage’s expertise was in contract law, so he wasn’t sure how much of a help he’d been. Still, more often than not, he was able to give some insight. And Pastor Higgin had needed to process before he discussed the purchase further with the elders. Gage had been happy to lend a listening ear.
When Emma had caught wind of Gage’s plan to find a sitter for the night, she’d protested big-time, touting that Hudson needed consistency right now. How could he debate that? Plus, arguing with Emma when she dug in was like quarreling with a tough-as-nails trial attorney.
She didn’t get angry. Didn’t yell. She was calm and logical and convincing, and had claimed victory before he’d even formed a rebuttal.
He backed his Grand Cherokee out of Pastor Higgin’s driveway, the homemade desserts Mrs. Higgin had sent with him riding shotgun on the passenger seat.
When he turned into the ranch drive, it was eight thirty. Hudson was likely in bed already, so Gage let himself in quietly.
Emma was sitting on the couch. Her feet—sporting striped socks—were propped on the coffee table. She had a small bound notebook perched in her lap. At his greeting, she plunked her pencil inside, snapped it shut and dropped it onto the coffee table like a hot potato.
“Hey.” A bright, commercial-worthy smile flashed, but Gage’s attention stuck on the notebook. Or was it a journal? What did those pages contain? And why the quick shutdown?
He hung up his coat and removed his boots. “Brought you something.” He delivered the paper plate, clear cellophane wrap leaving the chocolate caramels visible.
Emma’s eyes rounded with delight as she accepted the desserts. “Bless Mrs. Higgin. These are my favorites.” She lifted the cover and breathed in the contents.
“You’re supposed to eat them.”
“Ha.” Her eyes twinkled, and his nervous system lurched to a grinding halt. Emma was stunning. A thought that had plagued him consistently over the last few days.
Somehow Emma’s outward beauty had snuck up on him over time. Perhaps he’d been in a fog the last year or two, and seeing her heart in action with Hudson—and him—had startled him awake. Or he was just an imbecile. Either way, noticing Emma had taken over at least 80 percent of his brain capacity.
He’d morphed into a broken printer, his thoughts spitting out phrases like Emma pretty. To which he’d begun silently replying, Emma off-limits.
Gage sat in the recliner. “Sorry I kept you out so late.”
“I’m good. I didn’t have anywhere else to be.” Emma put a pillow between her back and the armrest of the couch, extending her legs across the cushions.
“How’d Hudson do tonight?”
“Perfect. He’s sleeping now.”
“Not that you’re biased or anything.”
Curved lips registered like a left hook. “Exactly. How was the meeting?”
“Good. Long. But if it helped in some way then it was worth it.”
“You’re a good man, Gage Frasier.” The skin around her eyes crinkled, respect and appreciation radiating. Had anyone ever looked at him the way Emma did? Even in friendship, he could tell how much she cared about him. Gage had thought when he’d met Nicole that they were perfect for each other. But over time, her outward beauty had diminished, and he’d come to the wretched realization that at the core, she was self-focused. It had been too late to change anything at that point. They were married, and he’d committed.
Only that word had carried a different definition for Nicole.
“I’m just trying to be as giving as you are, Emma Wilder.”
Amusement danced across her features. “That’s crazy talk.” She plucked a caramel from the plate and took a bite, then swallowed while releasing a hum of contentment and appreciation. “I have a deep and abiding affection for Mrs. Higgin. She’s so kind and wise and wonderful. But currently my love for her is based solely on the fact that she sent these home with you.” Emma finished the treat and brushed unseen crumbs from her fingertips. “The only thing that could possibly make them any better is a cup of tea to accompany them.”
“I’ll make you one.” Gage popped up.
“What? No. I’m leaving. I don’t need to keep you.”
Keep him? What did Gage have to do at night but fit in some contract work for his old firm or read about ranching—market conditions, water sources, how to save time and money with swath grazing. Riveting stuff.
“Stay for a few minutes?” Man, he was greedy when it came to Emma’s time. She’d made dinner a few nights recently and stayed to eat with him and Hudson. It had been the bright spot in his day. Gage had gotten used to having Emma around in the evening, and he liked it. He’d missed out on that tonight because of dinner with Pastor Higgin and his wife.
Emma’s mouth softened. “Okay.”
“Although one of these days I’m going to convince you that you’re missing out on coffee. That would be amazing with one of those.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Sure you don’t want me to make you some decaf?”
“You’re as pushy as Mackenzie when it comes to that bitter stuff.”
Gage got out the box of teas he’d ordered for Emma and heated the water—no kettle at his house, so the microwave would have to do.
“Since when do you know how to make tea, Counselor? I thought you were strictly a macho coffee man.”
Counselor. The name rolled off Emma’s tongue as if she’d used it before. She hadn’t—at least, not around him. But he liked the sound of it coming from her.
“I learned from observing you.” He glanced over his shoulder. She was still in the same spot, amusement and maybe a bit of contentment evident as she watched him. About time he could do something for her, even if it was just making a simple cup of tea.
He questioned which kind she wanted, then added the tea bag to the water and delivered her mug.
“Thanks.” She palmed the cup and must have decided it was too hot because she quickly switched to the handle. “Nothing for you?”
“Nope. Mrs. Higgin fed me way too much. And I may have eaten more than my share of those.” He nodded toward the desserts as he reclaimed the recliner.
“Not that it shows on you.” Emma’s eyes flew wide after her comment, and his grin sprouted. Emma was welcome to say nice things about him anytime.
“Right back at ya.”
“Oh, please.” She waved a hand, dismissing his comment. “I’ve always been a medium and that’s what I’ll always be.”
“What’s that mean? Are we talking sizes?”
Emma groaned. “Did I just say that out loud?”
“Yep.”
She picked a fuzz from the couch, seemingly finding the process quite intriguing. “Well,” she looked up, “since I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut, it means a few things. On a good day, medium is my size.” Her teeth pressed into her lower lip, tugging it endearingly to one side. “Not that you needed to know that,” she added, her cheeks turning pink. “But it also refers to me in general. I grew up with twin siblings who were larger than life. Still are. Kenzie’s adventurous and Luc’s always tried his own thing when the mood strikes. I don’t take big risks or want a lot more than I have. I like my life. I’m the meek little sister. Not interesting enough to be small or petite and have that daintiness going for me. Not long and willowy like Mackenzie. Medium through and through.”