by Lori Wilde
“It’s okay, buddy,” he said, trying not to let his anxiety show. Carefully, he took Lucas’ temperature, and then he freaked. A hundred and two.
He wrapped Lucas in his comforter and went for the door, his mind on autopilot. On the way down the outside steps to his car, he grabbed his cell phone out of his pocket and called Abbie. When she answered, her voice groggy with sleep, he immediately blurted out, “Something’s wrong. Lucas is sick. I’m on my way to the hospital with him.”
He didn’t wait for her answer, her calm voice, her reassurance. He couldn’t. Talking was the last thing he could do at the moment.
He was too consumed with fear.
Abbie parked in the hospital’s parking lot near the ER and sprinted inside. When she reached the waiting room, she saw Jake immediately. He was holding a fussy Lucas, and he looked desperate.
“Hi,” she said, sitting next to him. “How’s Lucas?”
“They haven’t seen him yet.” Jake sighed. “I’m sorry I called you. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I’m glad you called me.” Abbie leaned over and ran her hand gently over Lucas’ forehead. Jake was right. He had a fever.
“He’ll be fine,” she said.
Jake nodded, but tension oozed from him. Lucas was sitting in his lap, his head against Jake’s chest. Jake kept rubbing the baby’s back and murmuring soft words. For a man who didn’t know a thing about babies, he was doing a great job.
They waited another twenty minutes before a nurse called Lucas’ name. Jake stood up, started forward, then looked back at her. He seemed surprised, but grateful, when he saw she was following him. The nurse led them into the back section of the ER to a small room with two chairs and a bed. Jake put Lucas on the bed and held him there, and Abbie stood on the other side to help if she needed to.
The nurse asked Jake what Lucas’ symptoms were. Then she weighed the baby and took his temperature. Lucas cried softly during the exam, settling down only when the nurse left and Jake once again held him.
“He’s even hotter than he was at home,” Jake said flatly. “I don’t know what happened.”
Abbie patted his arm. ‘Try not to worry,” she said soothingly. “It wasn’t anything you did wrong. And I’m sure it’ll turn out to be nothing serious. Babies’ temperatures go up higher than adults’ when they’re sick.”
Jake didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t say anything. While they waited, Abbie studied the room. It was a standard ER examination room. Although the hospital was fairly small, it was well-equipped.
She’d wondered if being in a hospital would make her nostalgic for med school. Instead, she felt relieved. She wasn’t certain what path was right for her in life, but she knew in her heart she couldn’t handle a baby in pain, wasn’t meant to come into this room in a white coat or green scrubs and deliver bad news to frightened parents.
A few minutes later, the doctor walked in. She was a young woman with a wide smile. “What an angel,” she said, looking at Lucas, then at Jake. “He’s the spitting image of you,” she marveled.
“He has a fever,” Jake said rapidly. “And I think he’s in pain.”
The doctor read Lucas’ chart, and then examined him. It didn’t take her long to find the problem—an ear infection.
“It happens sometimes at this age,” she told them, writing in Lucas’ chart. “I’ll give you a prescription, and the nurse will tell you how to bring down his fever.”
“He won’t lose his hearing?” Jake asked.
The doctor smiled. “Nope. In a couple of days, take him to his regular doctor to check his progress.”
After the doctor left, a nurse came in and handed Jake a prescription for antibiotics. Then she gave Lucas a dose of acetaminophen, walked them through how to bring down the fever with lukewarm baths, and sent them home.
“You two have been up all night,” she said sympathetically. “I hope you can get some rest tomorrow. Or today, I should say.”
Of course she assumed they were Lucas’ parents. It made Abbie feel uneasy—but also, somehow, good.
When they reached the parking lot, Abbie turned to Jake. “I’ll swing by the all-night pharmacy and get this prescription filled in a hurry.”
“There’s an all-night pharmacy?”
“Sure,” Abbie said. “Carl Witherspoon and his two sons run a twenty-four seven pharmacy and sell shampoo and candy nine a.m. to nine p.m. While I get the medicine, you can take Lucas home and give him his lukewarm bath.”
For a minute, she thought Jake was going to protest. He looked at Lucas for a moment, then said, “Okay. Thanks.” He sighed. “At least a chef knows what lukewarm water is.” He turned his gaze on her. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I didn’t know what to do,” he said.
She could see how rattled he was. “You did just the right thing,” she said. “I’ll see you back at your place.”
Jake gently strapped the fussing baby into the car seat. ‘Thanks,” he said. “You’re too good to me.” With a rueful smile, he added, “Be careful, or I might get used to it.”
She knew he was teasing, but after he’d made the statement, his smile faded, and his gaze held hers.
Abbie found herself holding her breath as a tingling awareness feathered across her skin. Then Lucas began to cry, and the spell was broken.
“Have to get him home,” Jake said, looking away. “I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
Abbie nodded. She’d known Jake for years, but suddenly, things were changing between them. From his expression, she was fairly certain Jake wasn’t too happy about the changes.
But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t.
What could possibly have made him call Abbie? He couldn’t say because he hadn’t even thought about it. He’d just called.
Driving slowly home, Lucas snuffling in his car seat, Jake chewed his lower lip. Rafe would have come in an instant, would have driven Jake and Lucas to the hospital, would have stayed until the situation was under control. He had a houseful of boys who must have gotten sick at some time or other.
Instead, he’d called Abbie.
Maybe she’d been on his mind because they’d spent the afternoon cleaning out Baby Heaven. Or maybe she’d just been on his mind. That moment in the hospital parking lot—that had scared him.
In the back seat, Lucas’ snuffles escalated to wails. “We’ll be home in a minute,” Jake said soothingly, feeling that he wanted to call the baby something like “sweetheart,” or “angel.”
Yep, he was losing it. Big-time.
11
The pharmacist was cheerful despite the late hour. He’d filled the prescription quickly, and in no time, Abbie got to Jake’s apartment with the medicine.
When she walked in, she found Jake holding Lucas, sitting in the white rocker, lulling him to sleep. He overwhelmed the rocker, looking like a man sitting in a child’s chair. His vivid eyes gazed at her.
“He’s stopped crying, and his temperature’s down to a hundred already.”
“How are you holding up?”
“Resting comfortably and doing as well as can be expected,” he said, twisting his mouth into a wry smile as he remembered her saying the same thing about Barney. “How about you?”
“I pulled lots of all-nighters in med school. I’m a pro. How will you get through tomorrow? Today, actually.”
“Ask me tonight.”
Abbie cleared her throat. “Lucas should stay up here today, not necessarily in bed, but he needs rest, not excitement.”
He looked startled by the idea. “I don’t know how I can arrange that. I have to be downstairs, and I’m sure not going to leave him alone.”
“I was thinking,” she said hesitantly, because she had been thinking—thinking she was about to do the wrong thing, “that if the crew could do without me, I could stay with him today. Just this once.”
“You shouldn’t be using your time that way,” Jake said.
“I’d be doing it instead of waiting tab
les,” she insisted. “While he naps, I’ll rest.”
“I don’t…”
“What are your options? It’s time for you to go downstairs right now. It’s too early to call babysitters. I don’t mind, really.”
Jake’s face was a study in conflicting feelings. “It’s very kind of you to offer,” he said, “and you’re right, I need help immediately. I might be able to find somebody else by noon…”
“Don’t worry about that yet,” Abbie told him. Her own insides were full of conflicting feelings. “Let’s give him his first dose of medicine, then you get ready for work. We’ll be fine.”
While they gave Lucas his medicine, Jake’s hands occasionally brushed hers, and each time she felt a spark of new life in her tired body. She had to concentrate on Lucas, keep her mind off her surprising reaction to Jake’s slightest touch.
“Look at him,” Abbie said, smoothing Lucas’ damp, curly hair back from his forehead. “He’s sound asleep.”
He was, his head buried under Jake’s chin, his fingers clutching Jake’s collar, his knees drawn up with Jake’s arm around them to keep him close. The image of the two of them touched her somewhere down deep in a place she was afraid to go.
“Think I could get him into bed without waking him up?”
“If you can turn a turkey on its side in a hot oven, you can get him into bed.” She smiled at him, and it seemed to increase his confidence.
She admitted to herself how glad she was that he’d called on her to help, that she was here with him. Now he looked calm, ready to see Lucas through this glitch in his otherwise healthy state.
Jake stood slowly and carried Lucas, still snuggled up, to his crib. She joined him and leaned over the crib railing. “He’s the most beautiful child,” she whispered.
She turned to gaze up at Jake, emotion overtaking her. She felt drawn to the baby, but mostly, she felt drawn to Jake. He was such a kind and special man, a man who cared deeply about others.
Without thinking, she leaned up toward him, wanting him with an intensity that surprised her. He lowered his mouth to hers at the same moment and brushed it softly. She felt more than a spark, a jolt of electricity as their lips met, then a sense of falling through space when he deepened the kiss. She responded to it with all her heart and soul, and when he raised his arms, she knew he would put them around her to hold her close.
Instead, he pushed himself away. “I’m sorry,” he said, putting distance between them. “It’s been an emotional night. I didn’t mean to…”
Her eyes felt heavy. Her mouth felt swollen, even though his touch had been so light and much too brief. “For me, too,” she said softly.
“I have to shower and get down to the kitchen,” he said in a hurry, continuing to back away. “Do you mind if I—”
“Close the nursery door, and I’ll sit here with Lucas while you dress,” she said, but just now, she couldn’t take her eyes off him.
He gave her one last confused look. When the door closed behind him, she collapsed into the rocker. Her whole body zinged with pleasure. She wrapped her arms around herself and wished they were Jake’s arms holding her tight against his chest, the length of his body.
The shower ran, and she shivered, imagining him soaping himself, picturing the water running over his muscular body. She ached with longing.
She wanted him. It came as a shock to her. She was in the grip of full-blown desire. And she wanted to believe the kiss had been a sign from him that he was seeing her differently—and liking what he saw.
Or was it just a sign of appreciation from a frightened new father?
She heard a soft knock on the door, and she got up and opened it to see Jake holding out a cup of coffee. How long had she been daydreaming? He was dressed and smelling of something nice and woodsy—and standing as far away from her as his arm could reach.
Yum. Aloud, she said, “Manna from heaven. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”
He shrugged awkwardly. “I’ll come up when things slow down to see how he’s doing,” he said, “but if there’s any change for the worse, call me immediately.”
“Okay.” She let her eyes drift over him for a moment, but he looked away. “Cream and sugar in the kitchen,” he said, “and somebody will bring cinnamon rolls as soon as they’re out of the oven.” He gave her a shy, sidelong glance. “Then eggs and bacon and some of those biscuits.”
And with that romantic announcement, he skittered down the stairs.
What had he done? Just as he’d thought he’d gotten through his first big crisis, he’d gone and kissed Abbie.
And he was very much afraid she’d liked it. He sure had.
He didn’t have time to do right by a kid at the moment, and he sure didn’t have time for a relationship with a woman because he was supposed to be bonding with the kid.
And if he grew really attached to her…
She’d leave the valley to get established in her career. He couldn’t leave the valley. He had the restaurant, and now he had a baby who needed to put down roots.
So he’d screwed up once, but he wouldn’t again. He and Abbie could be friends, but that was all.
Oddly depressed by the thought, he started preheating the big ovens and the grill.
He missed Barney like he’d miss an arm.
Why, oh, why had he let himself kiss Abbie?
Dear Lord, he had a baby to raise.
As these thoughts rambled through his head, he realized he was sweating like a longshoreman.
He’d almost suggested she nap on his bed, but the thought of Abbie lying on his bed had sent a flash of desire through him, so he knew that would have been a mistake.
He had to get off this dangerous, winding emotional road. Mountains rising to the right, and a sheer drop on the left. A barrier in one direction, a dive into despair on the other. They had totally different, totally incompatible goals. She was going out in the world. He was staying right here in Falling Star.
All alone, he sent up a cry of pain. “Ah-h-h,” he yelled, just as Mildred Witherington walked through the back door with two pans of unbaked cinnamon rolls ready for their last rising and trip to the oven. The pans she’d expertly balanced tipped, and he dashed forward to rescue them.
“What’s the matter with you this morning?” she asked crossly. “I’m only fifteen minutes early, and I’ve been walking through that door with something or other for four years.” She glared at him. “When do I get to meet that baby? The town’s talking about nothing else.”
He didn’t like the way she said it, that the town was talking. Mildred had been his pastry chef since he’d decided he couldn’t handle that job and everything else. She was well-known as the town’s best cook. She lived three doors away from the restaurant, and she delivered eight pies, four cakes, and now, forty-eight cinnamon rolls every day, walking them over as soon as they were ready, and seemed to enjoy it in her own glum, uncooperative way. On the other side of the coin, she was the worst gossip in town, and he had a bad feeling that the gossip was, once again, about him. And Lucas.
Jake said, “What’s wrong with me is that Lucas got an ear infection, and I’ve been up all night. You can meet Lucas as soon as he’s well.”
“Oh, the poor little thing,” Mildred crooned. “Earaches are so painful. If it would help, I could come over and help out.”
Babies seemed to change everybody’s personalities. “Thanks,” Jake said hastily, “but I’ll have plenty of help in just a few minutes.”
“Well, all right,” Mildred said. “I have to run. I have cake layers baking.”
Jake just had time to breathe a sigh of relief before Maury stepped in. After they’d said their hellos, Jake said, “Who were all those people in the kitchen when I got home?”
“Well, Colleen’s Uncle Fred was on the grill, but he wasn’t that great, so I’m on the grill now, and he does toast and waffles. Becky’s daughter plates the food, and Colleen and Becky wait tables like always.”
“So we’ve hired two extra people.”
“No, that’s just breakfast.”
“Enough!” Jake said. “I get the picture, and I’m grateful to everybody who’s helping, especially you, for pulling it all together.”
Maury blushed and ducked his head.
Jake’s smile faded. “This baby, Maury, needs a lot of care. Thank goodness for Abbie. Lucas got sick last night, and she’s taking care of him today.”
“That’s what I thought when Barney keeled over,” Maury admitted. “That I was glad Abbie was here.”
Jake gazed at him. “It was scary, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Maury muttered and turned away, getting ready to cook breakfasts to order.
Jake’s heart went out to him. His own childhood was nothing compared to Maury’s. The boy would wear those scars for the rest of his life even though Rafe had given him a safe, dependable environment, and the worst thing that could happen to him now was that he’d scorch a pan. But the past must have folded in on him, the terror, the feelings of helplessness, when Barney had his attack.
And next, Jake had brought Lucas home.
“How’s he doing this morning? The baby,” Maury asked. Jake would give the teen credit. He was trying to handle the matter of Lucas gracefully, but it had to be hurting him. He still stood with his back to Jake, working away at the breakfast prep, and Jake went over to give him a hand.
“His fever came down right away, so I think he’s better. I tell you, son, when he got sick, it nearly scared me to death.”
“I can’t imagine.”
“It turned out to be an ear infection. I guess babies get them all the time, but I didn’t know that. You can guess what a jerk I felt like. I’m the guardian of this child—the biggest responsibility in the world, Maury—and right off, I screw it up.”
“No, you didn’t,” Maury said, looking straight at him now. “You don’t know what it’s like to have parents who screw up.”