Hometown Hope: A Small Town Romance Anthology

by Zoe York

  You trust me?

  “I’d ask only that you stop picketing my building.” He smiled, but it stung just the same.

  “It’s done now. There’s nothing to picket. You’ve already ruined the land and the town.”

  “Ruined? Really? Do you actually believe that?”

  “You don’t get it and you never will,” Violet said.

  He sighed and kissed Mollie’s head again. “That’s probably true. But we can agree to disagree, right? Just say yes. I promise to play nice from now on.”

  “What about the night nanny?”

  “I don’t want one. If I have you during the day and someone else at night, it means nothing’s left for me. She’s my baby and I should be the one up with her at night. I should be the one who feeds her and comforts her. You did it.”

  You say that now.

  “I know you don’t believe I can do it,” Kyle said. “For all I know, you might be right. But I should try. I have to try. I can’t bail on my kid like my parents did. I have to be present.”

  “So, you’re really doing this?”

  “I have to.” He stood and rocked the baby in his arms, gazing down at Mollie. His expression softened. Had he fallen in love with his baby already? “I mean, look at her. She’s perfection. I can’t let her down. I won’t.”

  Two sudden thoughts flooded her resolve to remain strong. I wish a man would look at Dakota that way. I wish a man would look at me that way.

  The first step was to recover financially. If she had to work for the enemy, then so be it. Plus, she’d get to hold sweet Mollie every day. A job where she could be with her son every day was the best she could do.

  “What do you say?” he asked.

  “Let’s try it for a month. Trial period only.”

  “Fine, that’s reasonable.”

  He bent over the baby again. His black hair shone in the lamplight. Was it as silky as it looked? No, no, no. This is the man you hate.

  He represented everything in this world she loathed.

  Or, did he?

  She would never have predicted his reaction to the sudden appearance of a baby. Additionally, there were the references to his childhood. Had he grown up in poverty? Were his parents cold like her own? Were these the reasons he was so driven to succeed? Honor had suggested as much before, but Violet had dismissed it, assuming their friend was overstating to persuade her that he wasn’t so bad.

  “Mollie looks like you.”

  “Do you really think so?”

  The hopeful, vulnerable tone in his voice gave her pause. Kyle Hicks was full of surprises today.

  She pointed to Mollie’s mouth. “That’s your mouth. See the fullness of her bottom lip?”

  He touched his fingertips to his own bottom lip. “Yeah?”

  “She has your dark coloring too,” she said.

  “Supposedly we have some Italian in us,” he said.

  “I bet she’ll have your eyes too. If she’s lucky.” His were an unusual blue that turned from light to dark like the fickle Pacific. Not that she’d noticed…much.

  “Her mother was pretty,” he said. “Blond and tall.”

  Violet didn’t say anything for a moment, thinking about how tricky it would be for him, like it was for her, when his child grew old enough to ask about her mother.

  “Dakota asks about his dad sometimes,” she said as if they’d already broached the subject. He seemed to follow her line of thinking without having to ask.

  “What do you tell him?” Kyle asked.

  She glanced over at her son to make sure he wasn’t listening. He was intently removing the seeds from his pickle wedge and singing the words to “The Wheels On the Bus” under his breath. “I tell him not everyone has one, but that I love him enough for two parents.”

  “Does he buy it?”

  She grimaced. “For now. Later, I’ll have to tell him the truth.”

  “What is the truth? Are you in the one-night-stand club with me?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Don’t judge me. I can’t take it.” His eyelids drooped as if he were suddenly exhausted.

  “I’m not. Truly.” She touched his forearm, wanting to reassure him. “I’m not in much of a position to judge, even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. I’ve been judged enough today for both of us.”

  He gazed into her eyes for a moment before looking back at the baby. “It was when I was up north working on a project. It was a hard night for me and I drank too much at this dive bar where she worked. We talked. She had this way about her—one of those women who gets you talking about things you wouldn’t normally. Like Kara.”

  “Yes, sure. I know exactly.” Kara Mullen was a witch that way. Two minutes into their first a conversation and she had cut through all the pleasantries.

  “One thing led to another and I followed her home like an injured dog. She was a sweet girl. Way too young for me.” Kyle sighed. “Believe it or not, I felt bad afterward. I let my own weakness get the better of me. It’s not my thing, despite what you’ve heard, to seduce innocents. My women are usually of the savvy and sassy variety.” He paused and gazed down at the baby in his arms. “I don’t know if I can be enough for two parents. I look at you and I don’t know how you do it. Dakota’s a great kid.”

  Her chest swelled with pride. “Not everyone’s a fan of my parenting.”

  “That meanie at the day care? Screw her.”

  “Everything I do seems to turn to sand in my hands.” Why was his kindness undoing her, making words tumble from her mouth?

  “Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re a bad mother. It’s simply not true. As much as you and I disagree over certain things, I’ve always noticed how good you are with Dakota. Why do you think you were the first person we called?”

  She flashed him a rueful smile. “I’m the only one of us who has raised an infant.”

  He laughed for the first time since she’d arrived. “It’s not just that. And listen, I’m grateful you’re willing to help. I know it’s for Mollie, not me, but I’ll take it.”

  “There’s no better reason for calling a truce than a baby.” A motherless baby.

  He kissed Mollie’s forehead. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  “It’s so sad about her mother.”

  “Yeah. Now she’s stuck with me. Katy’s friend told me mortality rates for mothers in poor rural areas is on the rise. In America. There’s a cause in need of Violet Ellis.”

  “Are you mocking me?”

  He met her gaze. “Not one bit. I’m completely serious. We need to figure out what’s happening and do something about it. Isn’t that what you’re all about?”

  “Kind of.” She looked down at her hands. “I don’t seem to have influence on much of anything, despite my efforts.”

  “You don’t know if you are or not. These things aren’t measurable. Not all the way, at least. I know you prompted a few of my decisions on this place.”

  “I did?”

  “Have you noticed how green it is?” He pointed to the ceiling. “Solar panels on the roof? The sustainable kitchen in the restaurants. Ten percent of our profits will go to environmental groups.”

  “You’re lying to me.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You never asked,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  Dakota called out from over at the table. “Can I be excused now, Mama?”

  “May I be excused,” she said.

  “May I be excused, Mama?”

  “You may. Come on over here, I have something exciting to tell you.”

  Her little boy, her heart, ran from the table on his chubby legs. Why walk when you could run?

  She pulled him onto her lap. “How would you like to move in here with Kyle for a little while? Baby Mollie needs our help. I’m going to take care of Mollie while he goes to work.”

  His eyes widened. “Live in a hotel?”

  “Sure. It’ll be an
adventure. And no, you can’t have a milkshake every day.”

  “What do you say?” Kyle asked. “I need another guy around here.”

  Dakota’s gaze moved from her to Kyle. “My friend Jacob has a mom and dad and sister.”

  “He does?” Kyle asked.

  Dakota nodded. “But I just have my mom.”

  “You’re lucky to have such an awesome mom. And we’re just borrowing her for a bit,” Kyle said. “She’ll still be your mom and your mom only.”

  Kyle didn’t understand. Dakota wasn’t expressing angst over sharing his mother. He wanted a family like his friend Jacob had.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. All she needed was to break her son’s heart when they had to leave.

  No, she had to do this. None of it mattered if she couldn’t provide the essentials. Shelter and food for her son had to be her priority. A job and a place to live had fallen in her lap. Kyle was right. They needed each other. She would just have to hope for the best regarding her own baby. Providing a place to live and food to eat was about as good as she could do now. Later there would be therapy bills, no question. Yet another reason to escape the mountain of debt. For now, however, one grown man, a little boy, and an infant girl needed her to do what she did best—take care of them.

  “We have work to do, gentlemen,” she said. “Operation Take Care of Mollie starts now. Can you both accept the mission?”

  “Yes, Mama.”

  “Bring it,” Kyle said.

  Chapter 3

  Kyle

  * * *

  KYLE FOLLOWED VIOLET into his bedroom. As his temporary home, the suite had been more than satisfactory. He loved the bed and the sheets’ ridiculous thread count. Up until a few hours ago, this bedroom had everything he needed. Now, he needed a nursery. A house that could be a home. Put it aside to figure out later and follow Violet’s lead.

  Violet stood with her hands on her hips surveying the room. “Changing table over there.” She pointed to the armchair. “Dakota, go into the bathroom and bring back three towels.”

  The little guy ran off to do his mother’s bidding. He ran most places. Kyle liked that in a person.

  Mollie wriggled in her burrito blanket. One hand and then a full arm escaped. She opened her eyes and made a face almost like a smile. “Is she smiling at me?” he asked.

  “No. Usually babies don’t smile until around seven weeks. She probably has gas.”

  “Gas. Does it hurt?”

  “You’ll know if it hurts. She’ll start screaming.”

  “What do I do if that happens?” Kyle’s shirt stuck to his damp skin. Thus far, parenting involved a lot of bodily fluids, including his sweat.

  “If she starts crying and she’s not wet or hungry, assume it’s gas,” Violet said.

  “Again, what do I do?” He couldn’t keep the irritation from his voice, but she didn’t seem to notice.

  “Tummy rubs, pumping their legs like they’re riding a bicycle, warm baths, burping. Also, I ordered some slow sip bottles. They’ll help.”

  He sank onto the end of the bed. “All those at once? Slow sip bottles?”

  “Sometimes one after the other.” She pulled a drawer from the dresser and placed it next to him on the bed. “It all depends.”

  Depends? On what?

  “Can I dump this out?” she asked. The drawer was lined with his socks, all folded into balls and placed in neat rows.

  “Dump them? Like on the bed?” he asked.

  She squinted her eyes, as if deciphering whether he’d spoken to her in a foreign language or if he was simply slow.

  “I need this drawer for her temporary crib. We need to put the socks somewhere else.”

  “Right, yes, put them here. Sorry, I wasn’t following.”

  Her expression softened. “Just sit there with the baby and I’ll put everything together.”

  He nodded in agreement and watched as she covered the seat of the armchair with a towel and placed a stack of diapers and wipes on the arm. She rolled two more towels and lined the dresser drawer with them. “That reminds me, we should order a pack-and-play, in addition to the crib. You’ll need that for when you travel or visit friends.” She stepped back, seemingly satisfied with the makeshift bed. “Honestly, this is the safest place for her until the crib comes. It’s like a cradle.”

  Dakota climbed up onto the bed and sat next to him, his plump hand resting on Kyle’s knee. He instinctively put his arm around the little boy and pulled him close. Mollie only needed one of his arms. Perhaps this was the reason a man had two?

  “You smell like ketchup,” Kyle whispered.

  “I do?” Dakota yawned and wriggled closer to him.

  “And milkshake.”

  A memory jolted him like a jab of a sharp fork. His little sister, when tiny like Mollie, had slept in a drawer. “My sister slept in a drawer. I’d forgotten that.”

  Violet stopped what she was doing and straightened to look at him. “It’s clever, really. People spend money on cradles for no reason.”

  “A baby shouldn’t have to sleep in a drawer.”

  “It’s safe and that’s all we care about for now.”

  “One night. That’s it. Never again after this.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “You’ll have that designer crib by this time tomorrow.”

  Had she rolled her eyes or was it just her tone that told him what she thought of his purchases? “I don’t care if you think it’s ridiculous that I spent so much money. She’s going to have the best.”

  “It’s sweet,” she said. “If unnecessary.”

  This woman was insufferable with her judgments and disdain. Just when he’d started to like her a little, she went back into her pontificating ways.

  “Sleeping in a drawer could stunt a baby’s growth,” he said, like he knew anything about the subject.

  Violet flicked her hair behind her shoulders. “That’s ridiculous. Did your sister grow up to be short?”

  Kyle shrugged and looked back to Mollie. Violet’s scrutiny felt like a bandage being torn from the hairiest part of his arm. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Violet asked.

  “I don’t know how tall she is. I haven’t seen her since she was fourteen.”

  That shut her up. For once. She went back to the drawer, fussing for a moment before declaring it ready. Seconds later, as if what she wanted to say had suddenly come to her she said, “I was dead broke when I had Dakota and he slept in a drawer for the first six months of his life. Does he look like he suffered any?”

  On cue, Dakota grinned up at Kyle. He was adorable with those big blue eyes and chubby cheeks.

  “He looks big and strong to me,” Kyle said.

  Dakota beamed.

  “There you go. Being poor doesn’t make you a bad parent,” she said.

  “This isn’t about you,” Kyle said.

  “I know that.”

  “You’re acting like it is,” he said. “I wasn’t criticizing you.”

  “I get that you’re trying to guarantee she has everything she needs, but I can tell you with assurance that what she needs most from you is love. In the long term, anyway. What she needs now is a routine and a schedule.”

  “I had a routine.” He tucked Mollie’s arm back under the blanket. “But I have a feeling it’s about to get blown to pieces.”

  She placed her hands back on her hips, causing her skirt to ride up over her knees. Man, she had pretty legs, even if she did nothing to show them off in those flat canvas tennis shoes. “Kyle Hicks, you’re about to embark on the best routine of your life. This little bundle of pink is about to become the most phenomenal thing that ever happened to you.”

  What was this strange lump in his throat that made it hard to swallow and the prickling sensation at the corners of his eyes? Did becoming the father of a little girl reduce a man to a sentimental pile of sniffles?

  Will she call me Daddy or Dad?


  Dakota tugged on the sleeve of Kyle’s shirt. “What’s the difference between a crib and a pack-and-play, Kale?” Kyle sounded like Kale when Dakota said his name. Kyle tousled Dakota’s hair.

  “I have no idea,” Kyle said. “Ask your mother.”

  He repeated the question.

  Violet frowned. “A crib is for home. A pack-and-play is for taking places, like on a vacation or to a hotel.”

  “This is a hotel.” Dakota said.

  Kyle laughed. Mollie’s eyes fluttered open for a brief second. He held his breath. Would she wake and start up with the awful howling? Note to self—no loud laughing while holding the baby.

  Dakota wrinkled his nose. “Can the baby play in a pack-and-play but not a crib?”

  Violet took in a deep breath. “For goodness sake, Dakota, it’s just named that. Beds are for sleeping. So are cribs and pack-and-plays.”

  “Maybe it shouldn’t contain the word play then?” Kyle asked, winking at Dakota, who agreed with a solemn nod of his head.

  “Here’s what’s going to happen now.” Violet pointed at Dakota. “You, young man, are going to have a treat and watch a show on television while I run home and get our suitcases.” They were all packed and waiting in the hallway for their temporary move to the Mullens’. The rest of their things were in storage. “Kyle, you need to put Mollie in her drawer, I mean, bed, and go back to finish your dinner. I’m going to eat something in the car on my way to the house. My stomach’s growling and I’ve got the hangries.”

  “Oh no.” Dakota’s blue eyes widened.

  “Is your mom grumpy when she’s hungry?” Kyle asked.

  Dakota nodded.

  “We don’t want that,” Kyle said.”

  “We’ll establish a routine tomorrow,” Violet said.