Babycakes

by Donna Kauffman

Kit had loved him very much and had known, absolutely, she was loved in return, but their time together had mostly been spent at the dinner table. Despite being used to not having him around much, she still missed him every day now that he was forever gone.

  She thought about the man on the beach and sighed a little as she pulled open the door to the research center. Life brought with it so many unexpected changes. She hoped that little girl realized how lucky she was.

  Chapter 4

  Morgan reeled in the kite, with help from his little assistant. “Sun’s starting to set. Getting a little chilly. What do you say we go get some dinner in town?”

  He was gaining ground on the whole unpacking thing, but hadn’t quite gotten ahead of the curve on the buying food and feeding the child part. He was used to grabbing whatever was handy whenever he came up for air from working and realized he hadn’t eaten in hours. Little people required something a bit more regulated than that, not to mention nourishing.

  “Where?” she asked.

  “Well, there’s a little diner on the town square. Laura Jo’s.” The other options were the pub or the tiny pizza place, neither of which seemed suitable for their first joint venture into public. He’d wanted to get unpacked, let her settle in a bit, before springing more new people on her—including the grandmother she’d never met. Well, the grandmother she wouldn’t remember, since she’d been a newborn at the time they first met.

  Actually, the more he thought about it, maybe the diner wasn’t such a good idea. There was no telling whom they’d run in to, or how people would react when they realized who he was . . . and who Lilly was. He should probably test the waters first. “Do you like pizza? We can order one to take home.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know if you want pizza?” he asked. Since when did kids turn down pizza?

  She shook her head and explained. “I don’t know if I like it.”

  Right. She was a Westlake. They didn’t “do” pedestrian food, much less eat anything that could be carried out in a box.

  He bundled up the kite, then took her hand as they headed down the path back to the research facility. “Well, what do you say we go find out? If it’s a bust, we can always go to the little grocery store and find something we like.” He’d been working from the stash of cereal, sandwich fixings, soup, and frozen casseroles the head housekeeper Coraline had surreptitiously asked the cook to load into his truck before he’d left Atlanta. Plus there was the always-dependable peanut butter and jelly he’d picked up on their trek in from Atlanta, but, after a few weeks on the island, supplies were running low.

  “Okay,” she said.

  “Great. Let’s go give the kite back to Gabe—Dr. Langley—then we’ll head to the pizza place.” He’d get the number from Gabe and call ahead, so he could just buzz in, grab the pie, and they could head back out to the cottage.

  “Can we see Paddlefoot again first?”

  Morgan smiled, thankful she was too young to understand the wry curve to it. He’d thought the turtles would be interesting to her, provide a little distraction from . . . well, everything else, but again he’d found himself back in careful-what-you-wish-for territory. In a single day, she was quickly becoming fixated on them. “Just for a minute. And only if Dr. Langley says it’s okay.”

  Her grip on his hand tightened as they sped up the path. He was definitely going to have to work a lot harder on that whole not-being-a-pushover thing. Today it was turtles, tomorrow it would be . . . God, he didn’t even want to think about it.

  They opened the door and pushed through the screen of thick, dangling plastic strips designed to keep birds and other creatures from flying into the building and walked on into the welcome area. Morgan heard voices coming from the lab, which was through the door on the opposite side of the small foyer, so he headed that way. It was also the direction of the rehab facility.

  He spied the doctor talking to the woman who’d come out to the beach a little bit ago. She was listening while Gabe was explaining . . . something to do with his work, no doubt. Morgan smiled, thinking he couldn’t recall seeing Gabe quite so . . . animated. In fact, when the woman laughed at something he said, Morgan could have sworn the older man’s deeply tanned, sun-grooved cheeks flushed a little. Not that his reaction was entirely surprising.

  The young woman was a little taller than most, with an average build. She had on khaki trousers and a light blue sweater, so he couldn’t see distinct curves, but that wasn’t the reason for Gabe’s blush or Morgan’s more thorough perusal. Her hair was a show-stopping—and quite natural, he believed—auburn shade of red, cropped short around the ears and neck, but left longer on the top. Thick tufts tossed about by the wind sprang up, giving her a just-woke-up look that . . . well, on her was pretty damn sexy.

  He was about to turn Lilly around and tell her they’d have to come back another time, when Gabe spied them and motioned them forward. “Hello, Miss Lilly,” he called out. “How was the kite?”

  Lilly’s grip tightened on Morgan’s hand, and he felt her press against his hip. He glanced down. “It’s okay. You know Dr. Gabe now.”

  She glanced up at him, then straightened a little and looked at Gabe. “It was very good,” she said, giving it her best Westlake. “Thank you for letting us borrow it.”

  Gabe beamed. “You’re quite welcome. You can borrow it anytime.”

  Morgan smiled, glad Lilly had spoken up for herself, but well aware it was a command performance. Her grip hadn’t let up one bit. He hated inadvertently playing the Olivia role. He had faith that, in time, as she healed and moved on in life, Lilly would eventually let her guard down a little and feel more comfortable around new people.

  “Thank you.” She tugged on Morgan’s hand, and when he looked down, she whispered, “Can you ask him about Paddlefoot?”

  It was another in the rapidly multiplying series of moments when Morgan questioned his options. Part of him wanted to gently encourage her to speak for herself, if for no other reason than to allow others into her world who could help make it better, more interesting, give her comfort and attention, or even just be friendly. The other part of him wanted to wrap her up in something soft and warm and keep the world at bay until she was good and ready to deal with it.

  “You can ask him,” he said gently, quietly, just between the two of them.

  She didn’t say anything to that, but let her eyes do the pleading for her.

  “Okay, we can take turns. I’ll ask this time, and you can next time. Deal?”

  She nodded, and he rubbed his thumb over the slender fingers still in his grasp.

  He glanced back at Gabe. “Any chance we can go say hello to Paddlefoot one more time today? Lilly drew him a picture.”

  She glanced up sharply at him and he wasn’t sure what he’d done wrong. Then her gaze went to the woman, then down to the floor. Ah. Apparently he was revealing too much to strangers.

  “That’s wonderful,” Gabe was saying. “I’m sure he will love it. Maybe you can show the other turtles, too—if you don’t mind sharing. They don’t have anyone drawing them pictures.”

  Lilly looked a little distraught about that, then blurted out, “Moggy drew one, too.”

  Gabe chuckled, his gentle demeanor soothing and completely nonthreatening, despite his rather tall, somewhat knobby appearance and the gray beard he sported. “Fantastic.”

  Walking a short distance from her, he crouched down so he was on eye level with her. “You know, maybe we could make a bulletin board back there and encourage people to bring their drawings or anything else they want to share with the turtles during their stay here. What do you say? Would you be willing to help me with that?”

  Lilly looked up at Morgan, squeezing the life out of his fingers again, but maybe for different reasons. “Can I, Uncle Moggy?” she whispered with such honest yearning in those sad eyes of hers. he was pretty sure any piece of his heart she hadn’t already shattered, had fissures shooting through it.
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  “Of course. I think that’s about the best idea ever.”

  She looked back at Dr. Langley. “Yes, sir. Thank you. Very much.” She spoke politely, with emotion vibrating in every word.

  Gabe grinned and pushed to a stand. “Well then, consider it a plan. Go on back and say hi, maybe look around and see where you think the board should go, okay?”

  “Yes, sir. Okay,” she said directly, without needing an intermediary this time.

  Morgan smiled. Little steps—but big, too, in their own way. A part of him relaxed a bit. The interaction helped confirm Lilly was ultimately going to be okay. She was too interested, too curious, and too determined to let the hardships of life keep her down for long.

  She tugged on his hand and nodded toward the rehab room.

  Morgan chuckled. “Lead on.” He turned to follow the all but vibrating child, then looked over his shoulder and made direct eye contact with the woman still standing just behind the doctor. “I’m sorry we interrupted.”

  “Oh, don’t apologize,” she said with an easy smile. “I’m just wandering through.”

  She had the pale, creamy skin that often went along with being a natural redhead, but what caught his full and undivided attention were the green eyes that completed the package. They sparkled when she smiled. That and a flash of white teeth and he found himself somewhat rivet—

  “Uncle Moggy,” Lilly whispered almost fiercely, tugging at his hand with all she was worth. “Please?”

  Morgan chuckled again and lifted his shoulders in an apologetic shrug. “I must go.” He nodded toward Gabe. “Be careful around this one or he’ll have you volunteering your time and your checkbook.”

  At Gabe’s raised eyebrows, Morgan’s smile turned self-deprecating. “On second thought, since I’m supposed to be helping him with that, forget I mentioned it.”

  “I can think of worse things to do with both,” the woman said with a fast grin. “And, who knows, if I end up sticking around, maybe I’ll do exactly that.”

  “Great,” Morgan said, with Gabe echoing the sentiment. “You thinking of moving to Sugarberry, then?”

  “Moggy,” Lilly said, drawing out the syllables into a classic kid whine.

  Nice to know she can beg, he thought. “Nice to meet you,” he called as he stumbled along behind Lilly. “I’m Morgan, by the way. And the tiny terror is my niece, Lilly.”

  Her smile faltered at that. “Ah. Uh, I’m Kit,” she answered after a moment, more polite afterthought than sincere offering.

  Morgan smiled through the surprised little gut punch her reaction had given him. She was just passing through. God only knew the reaction he was going to get when he mingled with the folks who actually lived here. “Enjoy your stay, Kit.” With that, he disappeared into the rehab center.

  She didn’t disappear from his thoughts quite as easily.

  So, Kit thought, that was Morgan Westlake. Figures. Hot, handsome, and adorable with his niece.

  And single, she recalled as the conversation she’d overheard between Alva and Lani floated through her mind again. It competed with the far stronger memories of her months spent in court, going up against those unbearably snotty lawyers from his family’s firm. The last thing she needed or wanted was to tangle any part of her new life with anyone remotely connected to ending her old one.

  “Sorry,” Dr. Langley was saying, “didn’t mean to leave you standing there.”

  “No, no, not to worry,” she assured the older gentleman. He was pretty much the textbook description of what she’d imagine if she was asked to picture a doctor of ecology and wildlife conservation. She pegged him somewhere in his mid-to-late sixties.

  He was tall and lanky bordering on bony, with longish gray hair a bit on the wispy side, as was the accompanying beard. He sported wire-rim glasses, a lab coat over faded khakis, and exceedingly well-worn hiking boots. The few pens in the upper pocket and a folding knife sheathed to his belt completed the outdoorsy-nerdy combination. He had a calm quiet voice, but his hazel eyes sparked to life when he talked about the plight of the endangered species he clearly loved and was dedicated to helping.

  Kit had liked him on sight. “Actually, I’m truly curious about the work you’re doing here.” Surprisingly, it was the truth.

  The court case and complete dismantling of Mamie Sue’s, not to mention the family turmoil caused by sitting across a courtroom from a vengeful Trixie and smug Teddy, had overwhelmed Kit for what felt like forever. Add to that the emotional toll of trying to figure out what was next for herself. . . and it felt like it had been ages since she’d thought of anything outside the takeover.

  She certainly wouldn’t have guessed sea turtles would capture her attention, and she wasn’t sure anything more than a pleasant and interesting conversation with the good doctor would come of it . . . but she couldn’t deny it was blissfully restorative to step outside her problems and think about something—any thing—else, even if for only a short time.

  Kit continued the conversation. “What got you started here? Why the turtles?”

  “I’ve always been interested in working with animals. Grew up in the Smokey Mountains. My dad was a park ranger and taught me a lot about them, how they manage themselves and how the environment can affect them. As for the turtles, I moved to Savannah to take on a teaching position at a college there, got involved with a few professors who were already studying turtles.” He smiled and his eyes brightened. “One in particular really . . . engaged my attention.”

  Kit smiled. “Ah, so it was true love, was it?”

  “At first sight . . . the lovely professor and the turtles. She—Anne—actually started the work here almost twenty years ago.”

  Kit wanted to ask the obvious question, but didn’t want to thoughtlessly probe something that might not be a happy memory.

  But her curiosity showed on her face. He lifted his hand and flashed a simple gold band on his ring finger. “She’s working in Savannah at the college, but is helping me here when she can. We live on Sugarberry.”

  Kit’s smile broadened and she might have sighed just a little. “I think that’s wonderful. Both love stories. How great that you can share something you’re both passionate about.”

  “You are absolutely right about that.” Not a trace of smugness appeared in his tone, just sincere joy and happiness.

  “Do you have children involved in the family passion as well?”

  “No children for us, unfortunately,” he said easily. “The turtles get our undivided attention.”

  “Then they’re the luckiest turtles around.” She stepped forward and stuck out her hand. “I don’t know what my immediate future holds, but if I end up staying, I’d like to talk some more, maybe find a way to help out. I need a, well—”

  “A hobby?” he asked not unkindly, but perhaps a bit . . . probingly.

  Kit didn’t blame him. She was sure people thought volunteering was cool and interesting and fun—and no doubt it was all those things—but first and foremost it was a research center, and the work they were doing was serious and important. “I was going to say I need something other than my immediate world to focus on for a change. I’m starting over, I guess you could say, and this time around, I want more of a balance between work life and personal life.” She grinned. “Any personal life would be a major step in the right direction.”

  “Sounds like a healthy plan and I admire your optimism and fortitude.” He shook her hand, then squeezed it before letting it go. “Let’s talk more when that time comes. I can always use the help and enthusiasm of someone who truly wants to contribute. As for Sugarberry, it’s a good place for starting over or just plain starting. And an even better place for staying. And building. And growing. We’d be happy to have you, Miss Kit.”

  She grinned. “Well, if the rest of the residents are like you, you might as well get a lab coat ready for me.”

  He smiled and gave her a wink. “Guess I should go and see how my newest little volunteer is doin
g.”

  Kit’s smile didn’t falter. She was feeling too good and . . . relaxed, and wanted to hold on to the feeling for as long as possible. “Mr. Westlake’s niece?”

  Dr. Langley’s gaze sharpened a little. “Yes, the delightful Miss Lilly. We’ve only just met ourselves, but she’s going to be a wonderful addition to our growing family here. I hope we can be the same for her.”

  “I do, too.” At the doctor’s questioning look, she added, “I’m familiar with . . . his family. And I overheard in town earlier about his moving here. None of my business, really. I just—it sounded like they’ve been through a tough time and I think it’s cool she’s found something that interests her.”

  Dr. Langley studied her for a moment, then said, “Yes, I agree. Perhaps that’s something you know a little bit about yourself?”

  She smiled briefly. The good doctor was a very perceptive observer, but she guessed that’s what made him good at his work. “Perhaps.”

  “Well then . . . I hope it works out for you both.”

  Kit wasn’t entirely sure what he meant by that, but nodded and smiled. “Me, too.” She took a step back and turned to leave. “Thank you again. For your time . . . and for . . . the encouragement. I hope to see you again.”

  “As do I. Safe travels, Miss Kit.”

  “Oh, I’m not travel—” She broke off when his wise eyes warmed with knowing. She laughed shortly. “Very clever.”

  “Sometimes you just have to know the right questions to ask yourself.”

  She was smiling as she walked back toward the welcome area. She glanced over her shoulder to find him still standing in the same place. “Very lucky turtles, indeed,” she called back to him.

  He smiled, lifted a hand, and waved.

  She waved back and headed outside. “So,” she said, walking toward her car. “So.”

  The sun was low on the horizon and the warm air had cooled significantly. She took in a deep, cleansing breath as she made a slow turn, looking toward the dunes. She remembered the dancing turtle kite, and thought about the little girl who’d lost her parents and found, perhaps, some unlikely new companions in a few stranded turtles. She tried not to think about the hunky, kite-flying uncle, but he was hard to block out. Unfortunately, so was his last name.