For Love of Eli: Quilts of Love Series

by Loree Lough

  Every note of ire in his voice, every line of frustration on his face—gone like yesterday, all thanks to a three-foot-five, forty-pound kid. Reece squatted and hugged him tight. “What? I have to make an appointment to see my best buddy?”

  Frowning, Eli said, “Randy was my best buddy, and he’s never ever coming back!”

  As he ran from the room, Tootie whispered, “Oh my,” and Isaac said, “Uh-oh.”

  Taylor’s gaze locked with Reece’s, and she read the message sent by way of the invisible thread that connected them:

  Until now.

  15

  Reece sat cross-legged on the floor beside Eli and chose a Matchbox car from the dozens scattered around them. “Cool,” he said, spinning its tiny wheels. “You got this one from Randy, didn’t you?”

  “Yeah.” He rolled a front-end loader back and forth, leaving miniature tracks in the plush area rug. “Traded him a motorcycle and a trash truck for it.”

  Taylor, leaning in the doorway, crossed both arms over her chest and watched the interaction. Until now, she’d never put much stock in the “Man plans, and God laughs” adage, but given that she and Reece had agreed to delay this conversation, it might be wise to reconsider her position on the subject.

  Reece put the car back where he’d found it. “Guess you miss him a lot, huh?”

  A quick shrug was Eli’s only answer.

  “Does it make you sad, thinking about him?”

  He tossed aside the loader and stretched out on his back. “No,” he snapped, linking his fingers beneath his head, “it makes me mad.”

  “At Randy? He didn’t intentionally get sick, you know.”

  “ ’Course he didn’t. That would be dumb, getting sick on purpose.”

  Reece glanced up at Taylor, who’d taken a step closer. She sat on the corner of Eli’s bed and nodded. You’re doing great, was the silent message she sent him, so don’t stop now.

  “If not Randy, then who are you mad at?”

  She expected Eli to say the hospital. Meningitis. The nameless, faceless person who’d transmitted the disease to Randy. When he sat up and looked at her, Taylor’s heart lurched.

  Now, on his hands and knees, he squinted one eye and flipped open the back hatch on a miniature SUV. “She said everything would be okay, and that a whole bunch of people were praying for me ’n’ Randy to get better, and God would do a miracle.” Sitting on his heels now, he met Reece’s steady gaze. “How come I get time outs for fibbin’?”

  Message sent and received, Taylor thought, remembering all the times he’d pulled back when she tried to kiss him, and how he’d stiffened every time she drew him into a hug. Five-year-olds weren’t mature enough to pick up on nuance or read between the lines, so she understood perfectly why, when she’d talked of miracles, he’d believed her. What she didn’t understand was why it had been so easy to lie to herself by pretending that his behavior had in some way been related to his recovery.

  Should she get down there on the floor with them, try to explain things from her point of view? It didn’t seem fair to make Reece carry this all by himself, especially when it had been her ineptitude as a parent that put them all in this position.

  Lord, she prayed, help me to know what to do and say.

  Reece got up and rolled the chair out from under Eli’s desk, sat down and patted one knee. “C’mere, kiddo. I want to talk to you about something.”

  “We’re already talking,” he said without looking up from the toys.

  “Eli-i-i …” His blunt tone compelled the boy to look up, and when he saw that big, upside-down pointer finger aimed in his direction, he grudgingly climbed into Reece’s lap.

  “Thanks for cooperating,” Reece said. “You saved me the bother of picking you up and putting you into my lap.” He acted as if he couldn’t see the show Eli was putting on, making circles and figure eights from his wiggly fingers.

  “You’re a smart kid, so I’m sure you’ve noticed how many loving things Taylor does for you, every … single … day.” Instead of waiting for the boy to agree, Reece began listing all those things. “She does all that—and more—because she loves you. That stuff about miracles and prayers? It’s what grown-ups say—even to one another—when they’re scared and confused and don’t know what else to say.” He pressed a kiss to Eli’s temple. “Everybody wants to believe in miracles.”

  “Even you?”

  “Even me.”

  As Eli leaned into him, Reece said, “I don’t think there’s a person in the whole wide world who doesn’t wonder why some kids are born sick, like Randy was, or why rabid raccoons bite horses … or why the people we love have to die. All we know for sure is that sometimes, bad stuff happens, and that when it does, we need to turn to the people who love us.”

  The only sound in the room during that next tense moment was the tick-tock of Reece’s watch.

  “Why is it so loud?” Eli asked, tapping the dial.

  “To remind me how precious every minute is.”

  Eli slid from Reece’s lap and made a beeline for Taylor’s. “Did you make cupcakes, like you said you would?”

  Gratitude, relief, and love swirled in her heart. Chin resting amid his soft curls, she smiled at Reece.

  “Yep. Chocolate. With fudge frosting … your favorite.”

  He snuggled close for a moment, then hopped to the floor. “Well, what are you two waiting for? Let’s get some before Isaac and Tootie find ’em!”

  Laughing, Taylor and Reece followed him out the door. At that moment, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to sidle up to Reece and slip her arm around his waist and to move closer still when he draped an arm across her shoulders.

  “You were amazing in there.”

  “Aw, shucks, ma’am,” he drawled. “Quit it now, or you’ll have me blushin’ like a schoolgirl.”

  They’d made the landing by the time she said, “I’m serious. There’s no way I could have handled it the way you did. It’ll take a lifetime to make that up to you.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Hmpf. Where’s a nosy reporter when you need one?”

  Laughing, she looked up into his face. “A … a what?”

  “You know, someone to make a record of what you just said,” he said, grinning as they entered the kitchen, “ ’cause I don’t want to hear any ‘I never said that’ nonsense when I hold you to it.”

  “Never said what?” Eli asked. But before they could answer, he tugged the quilt from Taylor’s sewing basket. “Hey. Isn’t this the blanket your mom made for you?”

  Her mind was still reeling from what Reece had said. “Yes, that’s it.”

  “But … I don’t remember this.” He pointed at the black-and-red square she’d cut from her grandfather’s shirt. “Or this,” he said, touching the camouflage patch that had been part of Eliot’s fatigues.

  “Hey, there, li’l snoopy boy,” Reece teased, taking it from him. “This was supposed to be a surprise.” He handed the quilt to Taylor, then whispered into Eli’s ear: “a surprise for you.”

  “It is?” Eli faced Taylor. “You are? But why? It isn’t my birthday or … oh. Wait. I think I get it.” He nodded. “It’s for next year, isn’t it?”

  She folded it neatly and tucked it back into the basket. Giving him a straight answer was more important now than it had ever been, but how could she do that when she didn’t know herself?

  She could have kissed Reece when he said, “Wanna go sit in the Spider and play with the controls?”

  Eli gasped and slapped both palms over his face, and when he came out from hiding, said, “Even the convertible top?”

  “Even the convertible top.”

  “But … but it’s getting dark out.” He looked to Taylor for permission. “It isn’t bedtime yet, is it?”

  “Almost, b—”

  He side-punched the air. “Aw, rats.”

  “—but I think since you did such a good job of cleaning your roo
m today,” she continued, “we can make an exception. But only by half an hour, because you still have some recuperating to do.”

  His enthusiastic thank-you hug nearly knocked her off her feet.

  “You’re the best, Taylor!”

  They were half in, half out the door when the wall phone rang. “Thank you,” she mouthed to Reece. He responded with a smile—and a wink that sent her heart into overdrive.

  “Hi there, Miss Happy Pants!”

  Jimmy.

  “What put you in such high spirits … win the lottery jackpot or something?”

  Something like that, she thought. “No, Eli just tickles me sometimes, is all.”

  “Gets that from his dad.” Jimmy whistled. “That brother of yours sure could tell a joke.”

  “Oh yeah. A regular stand-up comedian, that one.”

  “So the reason I’m calling … is my room empty?”

  Taylor laughed. “Last time I checked, it said The Arctic on the door, not J. Jacobs.”

  “Ain’t that just a big ol’ bowl of wrong; as many times as I’ve rented that suite? I could’ve bought the whole inn by now!”

  Another of his acerbic little quips, she knew. But Taylor didn’t join in his laughter, because … weren’t jokes supposed to be funny? Surely he realized that she got twice the money for those rooms when other guests booked the suite. He’d been Mark’s best friend, and she couldn’t bring herself to charge the going rate just because Jimmy could afford to pay it.

  “Hey, I didn’t mean to put it that way.”

  But Taylor wasn’t so sure that was true. During their last few conversations, his so-called teasing had put her nerves on edge, and his closeness with Mark had been the only reason she’d let him get away with it.

  “Uh-oh, I’ve hurt your feelings, haven’t I?”

  “No, Jimmy, you haven’t hurt my feelings.” Quite the contrary, she thought, biting back her indignation. “Your favorite suite is booked, I’m afraid, but The Great Plains and Rocky Mountain are available.”

  He chuckled. “I can almost see you, painting those scenes on all the doors. Which reminds me of something I’ve always wanted to ask you.”

  “Uh-oh.”

  “No. Seriously. This is legit.”

  That remained to be seen, but she waited patiently for him to continue.

  “I’d understand if you called the place ‘Misty Acres Inn,’ since that’s what your grandpa called the land around it, but why the Misty Wolf, with a different type of wolf on every door?”

  Because when she was sixteen, her grandfather took her to the grand opening of a sportsman’s supply store, where a Paul Bunyan type had displayed his menagerie. The Bengal tiger, grizzly cub, and hyenas snoozed in their shaded cages. At first glance, it appeared the timber wolf was asleep, too. But when Taylor stepped up to his enclosure, he stood on all fours … and locked gazes with her. A blend of fear, exhilaration, and wonderment filled her being, and every time she’d thought of it since, that same thrilling sensation wrapped around her.

  The story would only put another arrow in his Taunt Taylor quiver, so she opted to let the question go unanswered.

  He filled the silence with another question. “Only reason I ask is … I have a gig in Roanoke this weekend, see, so is it okay if, after I wrap things up, I swing on by for a couple of days?”

  “I don’t see why not.”

  “Jeez. Could you maybe curb your enthusiasm a little?”

  She could defend her snippy retort by admitting how his conduct of late had kept her off guard and defensive. If he’d let her get a word in edgewise during any one of those hot-then-cold phone calls, she would have told him about Millie. And Randy. And how close she’d come to losing Eli, too.

  “Sorry. It’s been a rough couple of weeks,” she said instead. “How soon will you be here … so I’ll be sure to have your room ready, I mean?”

  “Last show is at eight, Sunday night, so by the time we pack up and make the drive, it’ll be late. Midnight, 1:00 a.m., even.”

  “We?”

  “Yeah … me and my Ovation. Can’t croon a tune for my best girl without my guitar, now can I?”

  She heard the smile in his voice, and it softened her heart. Slightly.

  “It’s awfully quiet around there, considering there’s no room at the inn.” He laughed at his little joke. She laughed, too, but when her enjoyment didn’t match his, he cleared his throat. “So where’s the pipsqueak?”

  “Outside, fiddling with the controls of Reece’s Spider.”

  In the long, brittle pause, Taylor thought she heard whispering, and she didn’t want to hear whatever he was muttering about.

  “So listen,” she said, “between now and Sunday, will you give some thought to what you’d like me to add to Eli’s quilt?”

  “Me?”

  “Well, of course, you.”

  “And Dr. Wonderful?”

  O Lord, give me strength.

  “Sorry. Sheesh. Sometimes my mouth is too big for my head. That was uncalled for.”

  Rather than agree, Taylor said, “It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. A bandana, an old T-shirt … doesn’t really matter as long as it reminds him of you.”

  “I have to say, Taylor. I’m touched. And proud as I can be that you included me.”

  “You’ve been almost as big a part of his life as Mark and Margo.” Almost as an afterthought, she tacked on “and Reece.”

  In the background, she heard someone call his name.

  “Time to tune up,” he said. “We go on in thirty minutes.”

  She’d read that wishing an actor good luck is actually bad luck, which explained the famous “break a leg” cry. After all those years with Mark and Jimmy on the road, why didn’t she know if it applied to singers, too?

  Taylor wished him safe travels instead. She was promising to wait up for him when Eli blasted into the kitchen, smiling as he hadn’t in weeks.

  “I hate the gubba-ment!” he said, grinning.

  “Now, why would a boy your age hate the government?”

  “Because,” Reece explained, “they drafted the legislation that makes it illegal for him to ride in the front seat.”

  “Silly goose,” she said, heading for the stairs. “How ’bout fixing your uncle a glass of milk while I get your bath ready?”

  As her foot hit the bottom step, she heard Eli ask Reece to get two glasses out of the cupboard. On the second step, he needed help getting the heavy milk container out of the fridge. Taylor froze on the third tread when he said, “Why do you have to live in a different house?”

  Poor Reece, she thought, biting her lower lip. How would he answer that one?

  “Because to live in the same house, a man and a woman have to be married.”

  “Lots of men stay here,” the boy said matter-of-factly. “Like … like Jimmy!”

  “Yeah, but none of them live here. This is like a hotel. They come for a little while, and then they go home, and someone else takes their place.”

  “Oh. Yeah. And plus, they have to pay money to stay here, too.”

  “Yep.”

  She heard the jug, gurgling as milk splashed into the tumblers. Then the fridge closed and Eli said, “I don’t get it.”

  First one chair, then a second, scraped across the hardwood as they settled at the table.

  “What don’t you get?”

  “Well …”

  A slurp, a little-boy burp, and then, “Do you love Taylor?”

  Her grip tightened on the handrail.

  “ ’Course I do. She’s family.”

  “You know what I mean,” Eli said.

  And Taylor could just about see him, shaking his head as he said it.

  “Not that kind of love,” he continued. “I me-e-ean, the kind like in the movies, when guys get all stupid and kiss the girls and they giggle.” He punctuated the description with an elaborate “Arrgh!”

  “Oh,” Reece said. “That kind of love.”

  “We
ll?”

  “Well, what?”

  He was stalling, Taylor knew because it’s what she’d do in his shoes.

  “Do you love Taylor like that?”

  A heavy, masculine sigh prefaced his quiet groan. “Kinda. I guess.”

  Was it possible for a person’s heart to beat straight out of her chest? she wondered. She could ask the doctor who was sitting in her kitchen—if it wouldn’t make her look like an absolute goof.

  “I think Taylor maybe kinda loves you that way, too.”

  Reece chuckled. “And what makes you think so?”

  “Beca-a-ause, Uncle Reece, she looks at you the way those movie ladies look at the movie men.”

  I do? Taylor blinked. Swallowed … hard. She’d have to pay more attention to her facial expressions from now on.

  “Hey, Aunt Taylor,” Eli called out. “I thought you were gonna get my bath started?”

  Thank the good Lord she knew every creak and squeak in this old stairway, because Taylor sidestepped them all as she raced up the stairs.

  On the landing, she stopped to catch her breath and heard Eli say “That’s weird.”

  Well, what do you expect, she asked herself, eavesdropping like an old busybody?

  “I could-a sworn I heard her over there in the hall.”

  Eyes squinted tight and fists clenched, she held her breath, hoping and praying Reece would change the subject.

  And he did … more or less.

  “Me, too,” he said, chuckling. “How about we split a brownie before you head upstairs for your bath?”

  16

  The subject of sharing houses and getting married and “love like that” didn’t come up again, and at first, Reece couldn’t say that was a relief … or a disappointment. It only took a few days, working side by side with his good-natured—if not wacky—nurse and secretary.

  “I thought your parents were in town,” Gina said.

  “Not yet.”

  “But soon?”

  He had a notion to show her the itinerary. And then he remembered that in her capacity as his secretary, she’d arranged the itinerary.

  Grinning, he slid open a file drawer. “What is this … some kinda wacky female trap?”