Holiday Baby

by Jenna Mindel

  Once the woman left, Cat faced him. “She couldn’t afford those designs you showed her.”

  Simon’s eyebrow lifted. “I’m no mind reader, but I would have figured that out eventually.”

  Cat didn’t think so, or if he had, it would have been too late—after the woman had decided the store was out of her price range and left. “How are sales?”

  He shrugged. “Not bad for a first year.”

  “Do you advertise?”

  “No. I haven’t yet. Your sister wants to design a store website.”

  “She’s good, plus I can write a pretty mean ad.” Cat would have no trouble describing his jewelry in a way that would interest customers. With her sister’s help in setting up an online presence, she could take this shop to the next level. If Simon agreed.

  “I’m sure you can.” Simon checked his watch.

  Cat tried to keep the conversation going. “Why close at all?”

  “Why?” Simon’s brow lifted again. He ran his finger down Opal’s cheek and shrugged. “I miss my old life. I’m not good with customers and certainly not used to a small community.”

  That didn’t seem like a good reason, so she dug deeper. “What made you choose jewelry as a career?”

  His gaze turned cool. “A series of circumstances, really. My mom kicked me out the summer I turned seventeen. I couldn’t find full-time work and ended up living in a park.”

  Cat absorbed the information, forcing herself not to react. “Why’d she kick you out?”

  “She said I was old enough to take care of myself.”

  Cat was floored. “What about school? Couldn’t they help?”

  “Like I said, it was summer.”

  “What did you do? How did you eat?”

  Simon’s expression hardened. “Dumpsters, day-old stuff from a bakery. Finally, a man hired me to clean up his workshop in exchange for lodging if I agreed to finish high school. He happened to be a master bench jeweler for the company I eventually worked for. I apprenticed with him in London and eventually pursued an education in gemology.”

  “I see.” She remembered when she was first interviewing him back in Ethiopia, asking him about his personal story to no avail. He’d changed the subject, preferring to remain on the topic of opals. Now she understood why.

  Everyone has a past. Some worse than others. Having been through darkness herself, she’d learned to cope. Regardless of the challenges she faced in coming home, she needed a job and he needed a way to provide for Opal. This seemed to take care of both. Spending time together didn’t mean they’d have to dig into their dark pasts. Some things might be better left buried.

  He went to the door and locked it. “Closing time.”

  “Well, what do you think of my idea?”

  “It has some merit.”

  “Should we discuss it over dinner? There’s a good Chinese restaurant with takeout in the plaza near the high school. I can pick it up and meet you at your house.”

  “You’re not giving up.”

  Cat smiled. “Nope.”

  “Call in the order, and I’ll pick it up and meet you at my place.”

  “Perfect.” Cat reached for her phone while Simon took care of closing up the shop.

  * * *

  Simon didn’t share his childhood stories lightly. He didn’t know why telling Cat left him feeling so uneasy. She’d grown up with everything he didn’t have—a loving family and a beautiful place to live, while he’d had so little by comparison. He had regrets that chased him still. Regrets he feared.

  “I’ll tell you what.” Simon reached into the cash register, drew out a key and handed it to her. “This is a spare key to my house. Why don’t you take Opal and get settled in?”

  Cat stared at the key.

  He remembered her looking exactly that way standing in the middle of the hut they had holed up in, shivering.

  “Take the key, Cat.”

  “Right.” She shook off whatever had stalled her and scooped it out of his palm. “See you in a bit.”

  He picked up her coat and held it open for her. She hesitated a moment, searching his eyes. What she looked for, he couldn’t guess. Scared of the answer, he didn’t ask. “I won’t be long,” he told her.

  “Okay.” She turned and slipped her arms into the garment.

  He folded down the upturned collar and smoothed his hands over her shoulders. He breathed in the soft scent of Cat’s hair and managed to keep from leaning in closer. Barely. He would, though. He had to. They had too much to work out between them. He watched her and Opal leave before closing the door.

  He’d left all those raw opals out and needed to return them to the safe, where they would stay until he figured out what to do with them. He picked up the largest of the stones, enjoying the fire that flashed from deep within. It truly was the best he’d seen in Welo opals, maybe any opal anywhere.

  He turned the stone in his hand. Every time he’d considered polishing this one or any of the opals he’d purchased with Cat alongside him, he’d change his mind. Especially this large one. The best one.

  Perhaps he’d make something for Cat out of these. A pendant maybe, set on a chunky silver chain. No, platinum. An image of a ring entered his thoughts, making his gut pitch.

  Proposing marriage was out of the question. He didn’t know how to be a father, much less a husband. He was too used to being alone. Too used to running from anyone who wanted more from him than he could give. He wouldn’t make it as a family man. He’d tried it, long after he’d left New York when his siblings faced foster care.

  Battling with that failure was a different type of fear. Different even than memories of his childhood. Not having two dependable parents in his life threw fuel on his resolve to be involved in Opal’s life somehow. No, he didn’t know how to be a father, and no, he wasn’t meant to be a family man—but he wasn’t going to abandon his daughter. He wouldn’t let himself be that man. He might be incredibly incompetent as a father, but he would still find a way to be part of her life. As long as he didn’t mess her up.

  Maybe having Cat manage the retail side of the shop was a way to do that. He’d have his distance, and yet keeping an inventory meant coming back to Maple Springs.

  * * *

  Cat entered Simon’s house carting Opal in her car seat and with the diaper bag slung over her shoulder. Setting both on the floor, she closed the door, hit the light switch and hung up her coat in the small entry closet. The place was still neat as a pin. And bare.

  She settled Opal’s car seat in the middle of the living room floor and then headed for the kitchen. She deposited a couple of filled baby bottles from her diaper bag into the fridge. She hoped to get Opal taking a bottle before she started work. She’d asked her mother when Opal might begin eating solid food and her answer had been cereal in a few weeks, when Opal was nearing four months old.

  She heard Opal fussing in the living room. “Hang on, baby.”

  Opal cried louder.

  Cat’s body reacted even though she’d fed Opal before she left her parents’ place. Gathering up the baby, Cat shed the blanket and Opal quieted. “I’m sorry. Were you too hot?”

  The baby gurgled and squalled a little.

  Cat ran her finger down the side of her daughter’s cold cheek. It wasn’t that warm in Simon’s house. Cat spread the fleece blanket on the thick area rug in the middle of the floor and then settled Opal on her belly. “Let’s get a fire started.”

  Opal cooed and kicked her legs.

  Cat chuckled and rubbed the baby’s back. “You look like a little frog, not a princess.”

  More cooing.

  Cat checked that the damper of the fireplace was open, and then she stacked some kindling from the wood box next to the hearth. She retrieved matches from the mantel and lit the pile. The flames caught quickly, licking the d
ry wood, making it snap and crackle. She watched the fire spread and then tossed on a couple of small logs. She’d have to buy him a protective fireplace screen. But then, he wasn’t planning to stay.

  Rolling her shoulders, Cat looked around. Out of the windows, she saw the distant glow of the sunset peeking out from under dark clouds. The house was quiet save for the sounds of burning wood. Home had been full of noise when she left. Between her little brother Luke’s stereo blaring and her youngest sister, Erin, moving back in, Cat was glad for a chance to escape. For an evening, anyway. Even though it meant an awkward evening spent with Simon.

  Cat’s stomach flipped when she heard the door open.

  The man of her thoughts entered holding a large paper bag. He stood terribly still and stared.

  She stared back. Was something wrong? “I hope you don’t mind that I started a fire.”

  He closed the door. “No, I’m glad you did. It’ll take the chill off. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She reached for the bag so he could slip out of his coat. “I’ll take this to the kitchen.”

  “Thank you.” Simon didn’t look at her, though. He went straight for Opal and knelt down next to her. “Hello.”

  Cat watched as Opal twisted her head toward his voice. That quick movement made her teeter and roll, right onto her side.

  “Whoa, not so quick there, Princess.” Simon righted her back onto her belly. His nickname for Opal was rather sweet.

  Cat continued into the kitchen, heart racing. She opened the paper bag and inhaled the delicious smell of the takeout, which made her stomach rumble. Eat first, and then talk. “Do you want me to plate this up now while it’s still hot?”

  “I’ll help you. Can she stay on the floor like this?”

  “Yes. Or we can put her in the car seat while we eat.”

  He threw a couple more logs on the fire before returning to Opal on the floor. “You want to come pick her up?”

  Cat noticed that he looked completely out of his element. “Didn’t you ever pick up your brother or sister?”

  He shook his head. “Not much when they were little babies and, well, it’s been a long time.”

  He hadn’t been afraid running from those would-be thieves, but lifting a little one off the floor seemed too much for him. “I’ll show you how to lift her.”

  His eyes widened, but he didn’t refuse.

  Cat left the take-out containers on the kitchen table. Walking past Simon, she knelt on the floor and gently scooped Opal up, supporting her neck while she turned the baby in her arms. “See?”

  Simon knelt next to her. “Okay, lay her back down.”

  Cat did so, ready to get up when Simon touched her arm, sending a shiver straight to her shoulder.

  “Stay a minute. Make sure I do this right.” He repeated the same motion and Opal smiled up at him.

  “She likes that.”

  He laid her back down and did it again with a faster, swinging motion.

  Opal cooed.

  “She’s going to need her father, you know.” Cat’s thoughts slipped into spoken words.

  Simon looked at her with a stark expression. “I’m not sure I can be what she needs.”

  Cat knew that feeling all too well. “I’ll set the table.”

  Simon stood too and settled the baby back in her car seat. “Where do you want her?”

  “Next to my chair is fine.” Cat dug in the diaper bag for a mobile that clipped onto the car seat, to keep the baby entertained.

  Opal’s gaze latched on to the stuffed zebra and giraffe overhead. She reached for a toy and missed it, her little arm arching wildly off the mark.

  Simon guided her tiny hand to the toy and gently shook it, making the inner rattle click. That earned a bubble-blowing coo. He chuckled and shook the rattle again.

  Cat turned away, her throat tight. Opal didn’t ask to be born, but she deserved both parents in her life. Cat might have been wrong in keeping Opal a secret from Simon, but now that he knew, he was wrong to think he had so little to offer her.

  She searched the cupboards for glasses until she gained control of her emotions. “What do you want to drink?”

  “Water’s fine.” Simon continued to play with Opal.

  Opal started to fuss and Cat sighed, running the tap water till it went ice-cold. Surely the baby wasn’t hungry so soon. Over the snap and crackle of the fire blazing in the hearth, she heard Simon singing. Softly. The tune and words were unfamiliar.

  “While the moon her watch is keeping, All through the night. While the weary world is sleeping, All through the night.

  “O’er thy spirit gently stealing, visions of delight revealing breathes a pure and holy feeling, All through the night.”

  She set two glasses of water on the table and listened. He repeated the tune, humming instead of singing as his gaze slammed into hers. Cat held her breath. How on earth did Simon know a lullaby?

  Cat glanced at Opal. Like her, the baby was mesmerized by his deep, smooth voice. Then Opal kicked and waved her arms. “She wants you to keep singing.”

  Simon lifted Opal still in the car seat and set her on the table. “That’s enough for now, I think.”

  Cat wouldn’t mind hearing more. “What was that? I’ve never heard it before.”

  “A lullaby my mom used to sing. I guess I remembered the words.” Simon had said that his mother had passed away a few years ago.

  “I’m sorry she’s gone.” Such inadequate words. “For you, I mean.”

  He gave her an odd look. “I grew up in an unpleasant situation. My mother was an addict who couldn’t stay clean for very long.”

  Cat’s stomach clenched at the contempt in his voice. “Oh.”

  Simon shrugged. “Let’s eat, shall we?”

  Cat sat down, her appetite gone. His mother’s addiction explained a lot about why he seemed so closed off. He’d been uncomfortable at her parents’ house for Thanksgiving. He must have a mountain of bad childhood memories, culminating in having been kicked out at seventeen. Hadn’t Ginger thought him lonely?

  Simon reached out, his hand palm up on the table. “Let’s pray first.”

  Cat resisted the urge to decline. Praying like they were a real family seemed too intimate, and odd that he’d choose to hold hands when he was so guarded. Finally, she slipped her hand over his, relieved when he held on loosely.

  Simon bowed his head. “Thank you, Lord, for this food and please give us wisdom in this situation. Amen.”

  Short and sweet. Cat pulled her hand away. “We’ve definitely created a situation.”

  “Indeed.” Simon opened the take-out containers and offered her a choice between moo goo gai pan and peppered beef. “We’ll figure it out.”

  “You keep saying that.” Cat took the containers and scooped a little of both onto her plate. “How? Opal might be young enough right now not to miss you when you leave, but what about when she’s older?”

  He blew out his breath. “Something to consider.”

  Cat set down her fork. “Opal will need more than simply financial support.”

  He looked at her hard. “And what about you?”

  Cat looked away. “I need a job. Hiring me to manage your store will kill two birds with one stone. It’ll give me financial stability and give you a reason to come back here and spend time with your daughter.”

  “All right, let’s give it a trial run. Help me run the shop, starting next week, and we’ll see.”

  Cat nodded. “Can I bring the baby with me?”

  Simon looked a little surprised. “If this works, you won’t be able to bring her every day, you know, after I’m gone.”

  “I know.” Cat might as well be honest. “I have a hard time leaving her. Even with my mother, who’s the only one I trust watching her, it’s still hard, and if I can eas
e into it—”

  He held up his hand as if he didn’t want to know the details. “Understood.”

  Opal scrunched her face and squalled, reaching toward the food. She seemed highly indignant that no one was sharing it with her.

  “Hush now, Princess, you’re not old enough to eat this.” Simon touched the toys dangling overhead to capture her attention. It worked. Opal quieted and reached for them again. She missed again too.

  “You’re good with her.” Cat considered the next couple of weeks a trial period with Simon too.

  For Opal’s sake, she didn’t want Simon leaving, never to return. It had nothing to do with her needs or wants or even interest in him sticking around. This wasn’t about the two of them anymore. Cat was determined to do what was best for one of them. Opal.

  Chapter Five

  After dinner, Simon cleaned up while Cat attended to a fussy Opal.

  “Hey, look, it’s snowing,” Cat said.

  He stopped what he was doing and looked outside. Through the wide windows, snowflakes fell, glittering with reflections from the outside light left on. The snow was light, not the kind that promised to pile up. That snow would soon come, though, reminding him that winter was closing in—and time was ticking.

  His landlord had agreed to sever the lease, but the guy wouldn’t return to the area until spring. He wouldn’t actively look for replacement tenants until then. The house had been easy to break as rentals were snapped up rather quickly.

  He glanced at Cat looking out the windows as she rocked the baby. Their baby. The fleece blanket covered half of them.

  “I can throw another log on the fire if you’re cold.”

  Cat’s stormy gaze met his. “She wouldn’t take the bottle, so...”

  It hit him that Cat was feeding Opal and the room seemed to shrink in on him. Same feeling he’d experienced when he entered his house to a fire in the grate and Cat and Opal waiting for him like they belonged here. Like he belonged here too, with them. Only, he didn’t.

  He cleared his throat, and then he settled on the couch and picked up the baby book he had left there. He focused on the pages, wanting to give Cat at least the illusion of privacy, and needing a little distance from the intimate family scene.