The 15 lb. Matchmaker

by Jill Limber

He murmured into her hair. “He needs you. Stay here.” It’s what she wanted, and certainly what he wanted.

  Jolie pushed away and wiped at her cheeks with her sleeve. “You know that won’t work. We both want things the other person isn’t willing to give. If I stayed we’d end up hating each other.”

  Griff couldn’t imagine ever hating Jolie. But she was right, she did want what he couldn’t give.

  He cupped her chin and brought her head up so he could see her face. “I wish you’d change your mind.”

  Fresh tears welled up in her eyes. “I wish I could.”

  Sounds of Riley waking up from his nap drifted downstairs, and they both turned their heads toward the stairs. Jolie started to get up, and Griff gently pushed her back on the couch.

  “I’ll get him. You look tired.” He didn’t miss the surprise on her face. He knew he hadn’t been pulling his weight where the boy was concerned. It was time he pitched in more.

  She raised one eyebrow. “All right, but he’ll need his diaper changed.”

  Hell, if he could muck out stalls he could handle a diaper. “No problem. Put your feet up for a while.”

  He was aware of her eyes on him all the way up the stairs. There was another woman who’d answered their ad. She was coming tonight after supper. Perhaps if she didn’t work out, he could talk Jolie into staying for a while.

  He knew she would put Riley’s well-being above everything else. He wasn’t above using that to get her to stay. He wanted her here even on her terms. He didn’t want to face her leaving.

  Jolie promised herself a few moments to rest and to give Griff time with Riley. The next thing she knew, he was shaking her shoulder to tell her supper was ready.

  She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Where’s Riley?”

  “He’s in his high chair eating.”

  “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” She glanced at the clock on the mantel. To her surprise she’d slept two hours.

  “Well, I guess you needed it. Come on.”

  He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet. “We need to eat before the last interview comes.”

  The last interview. She’d forgotten. A Mrs. Muller was driving out in an hour. She smoothed her hair and followed Griff to the kitchen.

  Riley waved when she came through the door, a hunk of banana in one hand and part of a squashed peanut butter sandwich in the other.

  “Hey, buddy. You eating dinner?”

  Riley babbled a reply and offered her a bite of his sandwich. “Thank you, sweetheart, but I have my own dinner right here.”

  She pulled the high chair closer to the table and sat down to mugs of soup and sandwiches.

  “Sorry I slept so long.”

  Griff just shrugged. “No problem. We guys managed to get along.” He began to eat.

  It should make her feel better that they could get along, but instead she felt tears threaten again. She didn’t want them to get along without her. She wanted to be part of them.

  They ate in silence. Even Riley was quiet, as if he sensed their somber mood.

  When they finished, Griff went into his office, and Jolie cleaned up supper and Riley, then got him into his pajamas.

  As she was coming down the stairs she heard a knock on the front door. “I’ll get it.”

  Jolie, Riley perched on her hip, opened the front door.

  A pleasant-looking woman in her fifties smiled at Jolie. “Hello. I’m Alice Muller.”

  “Come in, please. I’m Jolie Carleton, and this is Riley Price.” She stepped back to let Mrs. Muller in.

  The older woman bent down until she was eye level with Riley. “Hello, Riley.”

  Riley ducked his head against Jolie’s chest. “He’s a little shy with new people.”

  Mrs. Muller smiled and straightened up. “Most children are.”

  Griff came into the living room, and Jolie introduced them and suggested they all sit.

  She explained what the job required, and Mrs. Muller talked about her background and experience. As Jolie listened, she decided that Mrs. Muller was perfect for the job. Sadly she studied the woman who would probably be taking care of Riley.

  Griff spoke up. “Why are you leaving your current position?”

  Mrs. Muller teared up. “I’m sorry. It’s just that I’ve been with the same family since their eldest child was born, almost eight years. The company they both work for is moving them to southern California. I don’t want to move away. My own children and grandchildren live right here in Billings and Acton.”

  Jolie liked this woman. Mrs. Muller seemed to have her priorities straight. “Would you mind giving us your employer’s name and telephone number as a reference?”

  “Of course.” Mrs. Muller pulled a tablet out of her purse and jotted down the information, handing the slip to Griff.

  They all stood up with the awkwardness of ending the interview, and Jolie asked one last question. “When would you be free?”

  “I promised I would help with the packing, so not until Saturday.”

  Jolie nodded, and as they walked to the door she thanked Mrs. Muller for coming.

  Saturday. She laid her cheek on top of Riley’s head.

  That was four days away.

  Chapter Twelve

  Jolie took all the clothes out of the second drawer in Riley’s dresser and measured the new drawer liner. Mrs. Muller’s references had been glowing, and Griff had offered her the job. Now Jolie had three days to pack and get the house in shape before she left.

  She glanced back at Riley as she finished putting the clothes back over the fresh liner. He was sitting in the middle of the floor, chewing on the trunk of a stuffed elephant and drooling down the front of his shirt.

  She made a mental note to tell Mrs. Muller that he was teething, then had to will back a fresh wave of tears the thought of leaving him always brought.

  She studied the contents of the next drawer. She wanted to leave Griff’s home in tip-top condition for the new nanny. And perhaps by keeping busy she would tire herself out and be able to sleep tonight.

  Her stomach growled, and she realized it was time for lunch. At breakfast Griff had mentioned something about not being home midday because they were moving cows closer before the weather got bad.

  There had been a few snow flurries yesterday afternoon, but not enough to stick to the ground. If it snowed in the next two days she and Riley could build his first snowman.

  Jolie scooped Riley off the floor and nuzzled his neck, drinking in the fresh baby smell of him. He squealed and grabbed for her hair. “You hungry, buddy? How about lunch?”

  She perched him on her hip and carried him down to the kitchen, putting him in his high chair.

  The back door slammed and her heart skipped a beat. Maybe Griff had changed his plans and come home. But when she looked up, there was no one there.

  Disappointed, she realized the wind must have caught the door. She went out and pulled it firmly closed.

  Griff. Her mind knew she’d made the right decision, but her heart refused to go along. She stood and stared as leaves danced and skipped across the yard. The porch was cold, as if the temperature had dipped since this morning.

  Jolie closed the door between the porch and the kitchen. “Maybe we can take a walk after lunch, buddy, before your nap.”

  She sat at the kitchen table and spread peanut butter and jelly on a slice of bread and cut half of it in quarters for Riley and munched on the other half herself.

  Riley tossed the last piece of his sandwich on the floor, his new signal he was finished eating.

  “All done?”

  She wiped his hands and face while he wiggled and squirmed, then lifted him down and sat him in the middle of the floor with his favorite wooden spoon and a saucepan.

  “I’m going to get our jackets and then we can go outside.” Riley banged the spoon against the side of the pan and crowed like a rooster.

  Jolie went to the hall closet and grabbed up their jackets. When she c
ame back around the corner into the kitchen, to her horror Riley was standing unsteadily on the seat of a kitchen chair. In the short time she’d been gone, he’d managed to climb onto the chair.

  “Riley!” she yelled, and knew immediately she had made a terrible mistake.

  He turned to look at her and lost his balance.

  Everything seemed to go in slow motion as she lunged across the room. He toppled off the chair and bounced against the edge of the kitchen table before he landed on the floor.

  For a split second he was utterly quiet, and then he began to wail like a banshee. Trembling, Jolie scooped him up from the floor and hugged him against her chest, cradling his head and crooning soothing words to him.

  His little body shook with his sobs, and Jolie felt so guilty for leaving him to get the jackets she wanted to cry right along with him.

  “I’m sorry, buddy. I’m so sorry. I know you’re scared. I’m right here.” She rocked him against her, and still he sobbed. She could feel his warm tears soaking through her top.

  When he didn’t quiet down after a few minutes she pulled him away from her chest in order to get a closer look at him.

  His little face was covered with blood.

  Her legs turned rubbery, and she sat down with a thump on one of the kitchen chairs, fear churning in her belly. “Oh, no. Oh, baby, I’m so sorry.”

  She grabbed a napkin off the table and tried to blot Riley’s head so she could see how badly he was cut, and he screamed even louder.

  “Okay, okay, I know it hurts, but I have to look.” Panicked, she didn’t know how to deal with this.

  Everything she had ever learned about first aid flew right out of her head. She took some deep breaths to try to calm herself. Suddenly she remembered she needed to put pressure on the cut.

  When she pressed on the wound, Riley arched his back and threw his arms wide with such force she nearly lost her grip on him.

  She carried the still-howling child over to the wall phone. With shaking fingers she punched in Griff’s cell phone number.

  After two rings that seemed to take forever, she got a recorded message his telephone was not on and invited her to leave a message.

  She waited for the tone and asked him to come to the house as soon as he could. As she hung up she wondered if he would be able to understand her over Riley’s cries.

  Jolie grabbed a clean kitchen towel and sat back down at the table. Again she tried to find the source of all the blood while Riley frantically attempted to push her hands out of the way.

  She found the gash up near his hairline, and the size of it made her nauseous. Surely he needed stitches and X-rays. He’d also split his lip, but even though it had puffed up to twice its normal size and bled freely it didn’t worry her nearly as much as the head wound.

  Trembling, Jolie went to the phone again and dialed the bunkhouse. Chris or Lem could drive them into Billings.

  The Mexican cook answered the telephone. When she asked for Chris or Lem, his only answer was “No here.”

  She knew he spoke little English and she had no Spanish. Then she remembered all the hands were with Griff, helping him move the cows.

  Jolie grabbed a fresh towel, wrapped an ice cube in the corner and pressed it against the gash, but the blood still flowed.

  What if he had a concussion? Or a fractured skull?

  “Oh, sweety, I’m going to drive into Billings. The hospital emergency room is across the street from your pediatrician’s office, so we know the way.” She was chattering at him as much to soothe herself as to quiet him.

  With shaking hands she bundled the still-crying baby into his jacket, then, holding him, awkwardly slipped into her own. After grabbing a fresh towel and her purse, she carried him to the back door.

  At first she thought the door was stuck, then she realized the wind was blowing against the house making the door difficult to push open.

  His car seat was in her car. She loaded Riley in and kissed his hair. The bleeding had slowed and a goose egg was already forming on his forehead, but his wails had subsided to occasional sobs and watery hiccups.

  As they headed out to the main road, she kept searching the open land, hoping to spot Griff or one of the hands. Flurries of snow made it difficult to see very far, and what she could see was deserted.

  She would feel better if someone else was driving and she could sit in the back with Riley. He was settling down a bit, but she could see in her rearview mirror that his head was still bleeding.

  Maybe she should have called 911. Immediately she dismissed the thought. An ambulance would have to come from Billings and would take almost as long to get to the ranch as it would for her to drive in.

  The snow seemed heavier, and she slowed down a bit and turned on her headlights. It was getting harder to see the road. She tried to determine if she was driving into the storm, or if it was coming from behind her. The swirling winds made it impossible to tell.

  Riley’s cries had stopped. Jolie glanced in her rear-view mirror. The baby’s head was nodding. Frantically she tried to think if she was supposed to keep him awake after a blow to the head, or if it was okay to let him sleep.

  Should she pull over and try to wake him? Or would it be better to just push thorough to Billings? If she stopped and woke him, he’d just fall asleep again as soon as they got started.

  “I’ll keep going. The quicker we get to Billings the better.” Somehow it made her feel better to talk out loud. She didn’t feel so alone.

  She could barely see the road. She slowed more and wished she had checked the odometer before they left the house. She had no idea how far they had come, and the snow made everything seem out of focus.

  She glanced back at Riley. He was sound asleep. At least, she hoped he was asleep.

  Her own breath caught on a worried sob.

  She turned her attention back to the road and saw headlights headed right for her. She pulled her steering wheel to the right with a hard jerk.

  Her car bounced up over the shoulder and then jolted nose down, throwing her to the left. She smacked her head against the door frame. A white bolt of pain shot through her head, then faded into black.

  Griff felt his horse shudder under him as he flipped up his jacket collar and turned his back to the howling wind. They had managed to move most of the herd, and he could only hope the other steers were trailing behind. He couldn’t see ten feet.

  The storm had turned much worse than he’d expected, and he was relieved to have the animals closer in, in case he had to deliver feed to them.

  He cupped his gloved hands to his mouth and hollered to the men closest to him to spread the word to head in.

  Given her head, Honeygirl headed toward the barn. He planned to eat at the cookshack with his hands. He’d told Jolie he wouldn’t be there for lunch. To be honest, he had to admit he’d been staying away. Things between them were very awkward.

  Relieved to be out of the howling wind, as soon as he made it to the barn he stripped off his gloves. As he unsaddled his horse he realized his phone was beeping, signaling he had a message. The wind had been so fierce he hadn’t heard the signal.

  He punched in his code and listened to Jolie’s frantic message that he come home, with the baby wailing in the background.

  Griff ran toward the house. Jolie’s car was gone, and the back door was open, the screen banging against the door frame in the wind.

  He raced into the kitchen and stopped dead. There were bloody towels on the kitchen table, along with a cutting board and a knife.

  She’d hurt herself. His gut twisted at the thought. He ran through the downstairs, calling her name. Maybe she’d moved her car inside before the storm hit and she was still here.

  He took the stairs two at a time. She and the baby were both gone. Of course she’d taken Riley. She’d never leave him here by himself.

  Griff raced back down the stairs and fought the wind out to the tractor barn. His truck was there, but Jolie’s car was gone.
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  She should have waited for him. She probably didn’t have any experience driving in a blizzard.

  Fear seized him.

  He jumped in his truck and drove to the cookshack. The men were filling cups with steaming coffee and gathering around the woodstove. Steam rose off their damp clothing.

  “Chris, Lem, get your jackets. Jolie’s hurt and she went out in the storm.”

  “What do you mean hurt, boss?” Chris asked.

  “She left a message on my phone and there are bloody towels on the kitchen table. She must be driving herself into Billings.”

  “Riley?”

  “She took him with her. There was nobody here to watch him.”

  Chris and Lem grabbed their jackets off the pegs by the door.

  “We’ve got to find her.” If only he’d checked his telephone sooner.

  Lem caught his arm as he opened the door. “Boss, let’s call the hospital. See if she’s already there. She could have made it in.”

  Griff appreciated Lem’s cool thinking. “Good idea. And the state troopers. They can be checking the road, too.”

  He handed Lem his phone as they piled into the truck. Before they made the main road, Lem had reached the hospital and determined that Jolie had not arrived.

  Next he called the state troopers and explained the situation. They promised to dispatch a unit from Billings and work out toward the ranch.

  The snow seemed to be letting up a bit. They turned toward Billings and crawled down the highway. Any tire tracks had long been covered by the snowfall.

  Chris reached out and laid a hand on Griff’s sleeve. “What? Did you see something?”

  “No, boss. Sorry. Why don’t you let me drive?”

  “No. I got it.” He’d go crazy if he didn’t have something to do with his hands.

  “Let me know if you change your mind.”

  He nodded. “Lem, try the hospital again. Give them my cell number. If she comes in, have them call us.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  Griff listened to Lem place the call and leave the message with a growing sense of dread.

  If she hadn’t made it to Billings and had had an accident, how long could she and the baby survive in this bitter cold?