Apprentice Father

by Irene Hannon

  “We fight them.”

  Clay gave him a skeptical look. “You think we have a chance of winning?”

  “That depends on you. How serious you are about keeping the children?”

  “Very.”

  “Enough to make some significant changes in your life?”

  Clay swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  “Then we may have a chance. First of all, possession is nine-tenths of the law. You’re a family member, and you have the children. The court won’t take them away without cause before a hearing. And they’re not going to find one. I saw the children at Easter. It’s obvious they’re well-cared for and happy. But now that these papers have been filed, you’ll be checked out.”

  “How?”

  “Expect some visits from a social worker. They’ll be unannounced. The intent is to catch you and the children in your daily routine.”

  “Okay.”

  “Now let’s talk about changes. The court is not going to be disposed in your favor if you’re moving every few months. You’re going to need to think about a job that lets you stay in one place. Are you willing to consider that?”

  Although Clay liked his work, he had no particular loyalty to his firm. It was a job, nothing more. And there were other, less mobile jobs for people with his skills and experience. “Yes.”

  “Good. How large is your apartment?”

  “Tiny. It’s an efficiency. I had it before I got the kids.”

  “Move. To a house, if you can manage it. Renting is fine, but the court always prefers houses to apartments. It’s more important in this case, considering your father is offering a house. If we can demonstrate your willingness to make these kinds of changes for the good of the children, we’ll have a stronger case.”

  “I guess it would help if I had a wife, too, wouldn’t it?” Clay’s mouth twisted into a humorless smile.

  “No question about it. Do you have someone in mind?” When Clay did a double take, Mark flashed him a smile. “Just kidding. I don’t think you have to go that far. After all, your father is only offering a single-parent household, too.”

  “So what do I do next?”

  “Wait for the social worker to visit. Rent a house. Start putting out feelers for a different job.” Mark rose and held out his hand. “I’ll be in touch.”

  Clay’s head was spinning as he returned the man’s firm clasp. “This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”

  Tucking his pen into the pocket of his jacket, Mark gave him a steady look. “Most things worth fighting for aren’t.”

  Cate was waiting at the door when Clay walked into the apartment that night. She’d hoped the meeting with Mark had gone well, but the weary droop of Clay’s shoulders wasn’t encouraging.

  “What did he say?”

  Dropping a roll of blueprints on the couch, Clay checked over her shoulder. “Where are the kids?”

  “In the bedroom. Playing an educational video game on your old laptop.”

  He let out a long, slow, breath. “Your brother is one tough interrogator.”

  A wry smile tugged at her lips. “He’s always been like that. You should have heard him giving my boyfriends the third degree when I was in high school. And his technique has only improved with age.”

  Clay’s mouth twitched. “All I can say is, I’d hate to be on a witness stand with him asking the questions. Let’s sit for a minute.”

  She moved to the couch and he perched on the chair, the muscles in his shoulders bunching as he leaned forward to clasp his hands. After giving her a quick recap, he shook his head. “I’m willing to do everything he suggested, but I’m not sure it will be enough.”

  “It has to be. I can’t believe anyone would send those children to the kind of environment you describe. Not after all the sacrifices you’re making to do what’s best for them.”

  “That’s the odd thing.” He shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair. “I don’t feel as if I’m making any sacrifice at all. I feel as if I’m getting way more out of this deal than they are.”

  Cate smiled. “It’s amazing how two little kids can worm their way into your heart, isn’t it?”

  “The kids aren’t the only ones who’ve managed to do that.”

  At his unexpected comment, Cate’s smile fled. And as their gazes locked, what she saw in his dark eyes rocked her world.

  It was attraction, pure and simple. More potent and powerful than anything she’d ever seen in the eyes of the man she once loved.

  The silence between them began to pulse with a tension that had nothing to do with the custody issue. And it intensified when Clay reached over and took her hand.

  Cate stopped breathing.

  From the beginning, she’d felt a strong pull toward this man. And it seemed the feeling was mutual. But she suspected Clay’s attraction was based on appreciation. She’d bailed him out several times with the kids, and he was grateful. Gratitude had led to liking. But those didn’t add up to an attraction that lasted. To love. They added up to a recipe for hurt. She’d been on the receiving end of feelings masquerading as love once. And she had no desire to repeat the experience.

  Summoning up every ounce of her willpower, Cate pulled her hand away with a gentle tug. “I need to check on the children.”

  To her relief, he let her go. Perhaps he was already regretting his impulsive gesture, she speculated.

  But when she took a quick peek at him before ducking into the hall, his expression was pensive rather than chagrined or embarrassed. As if he was trying to figure out why she’d retreated—or was planning his next move.

  Both of which made her decidedly uncomfortable.

  A week later, a plaintive wail pierced the night, yanking Clay back from the brink of sleep.

  It was Emily. Again.

  Adrenaline pumping, he swung his feet to the floor and covered the distance to the children’s bedroom in a few long strides. She was thrashing on the bed, in the throes of a nightmare. A bad one.

  Josh, on the other hand, remained sound asleep, oblivious to his sister’s distress. The kid could sleep through anything, Clay marveled, shaking his head as he leaned over to brush the hair back from Emily’s flushed cheeks. “It’s okay, Emily. You’re okay,” he soothed.

  Although he kept repeating that mantra, it had little effect. Recalling how she’d clung to him during the daylight episode, he picked her up and cradled her in his arms, hoping that would help.

  But when her whole body began to twitch and she clutched at him convulsively, his panic escalated. The first time Emily had had a meltdown, Cate had come to his rescue. But he was on his own tonight. And he had no idea what to do.

  Maybe he should sit on the couch, he reasoned, heading toward the living room. That had worked before. Except then, Emily had been awake and gripping his neck, not asleep and writhing in his arms. This was a different scenario.

  He sat and tried rocking her, murmuring comforting words, but that seemed to agitate her more—until all at once she began to mutter and fight against him, exhibiting amazing strength for such a tiny thing.

  Realizing he was getting nowhere, Clay gave her a gentle shake, trying to awaken her. It took several attempts, each a bit more vigorous, but at last she awoke with a gasp, her eyes wild, her body rigid.

  “Emily, it’s okay.” Clay said the words slowly, in a gentle tone, “You’re safe. You’re with Uncle Clay. You just had a nightmare.”

  He stroked her back, emulating the rhythmic motion Cate had used during the last episode, until at last her body went limp and she collapsed against him, sobbing.

  “I—I was afraid he was going to h-hurt her.” Emily hiccupped, gulping air.

  “It was a bad dream, honey. It’s over now.” A shudder rippled through her, and he tightened his grasp. “Everything’s okay now.”

  “It—it wasn’t her fault.” She continued as if he hadn’t spoken.

  “I know. Your mommy didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “No.” S
he gave her head an emphatic shake. “M-my dream wasn’t about Mommy. It was about Cate.”

  Shock rippled through Clay, and he backed off a fraction to scrutinize Emily’s face. “Are you sure you were dreaming about Cate?”

  “Yes. It was about the mean man who yelled at her in the parking lot today. He looked really mad. I—I was afraid he was going t-to hit her.”

  Clueless, Clay tried to make sense of Emily’s story. Cate hadn’t mentioned anything unusual about the day. She’d told him she’d spent most of it packing for the move to the small house he’d rented. But then again, she hadn’t talked a whole lot to him since the day he’d taken her hand while she sat on this very couch. She’d been skittish in his presence, and she no longer lingered in the evening to exchange news of the day, as she once had.

  “Are you sure this really happened, Emily?” Clay probed.

  “Yes. At the grocery store. The cart started to roll away and it almost hit that man’s car. Cate stopped it, but he got mad anyway. It wasn’t her fault.”

  The story was credible enough to merit checking out, Clay decided. But first he needed to calm Emily’s fears.

  “I’m sure it wasn’t, honey. And everything’s fine now. Didn’t you come home after that and bake cookies?” He managed a smile as he touched the tip of her nose.

  “Uh huh. Oatmeal.” She sniffled and gripped his hand. “That man made me think about D-Daddy. He’s not coming back, is he?”

  “No, Emily, he’s not. He won’t ever bother you again.” Clay had been in regular touch with the Omaha police department. They’d found the man’s abandoned car a few days after he’d disappeared, the children’s car seats still in place, but they’d had no luck yet tracking him down. Once they did find him, however, he’d be thrown into a hole for the rest of his life. And he could rot there, as far as Clay was concerned.

  Reassured, Emily relaxed against him. “I like you as a daddy much better.”

  Warmth flooded Clay’s heart as he stood to carry her back to the bedroom. And when she wrapped her thin arms around his neck, the same protective instinct he’d once felt for Anne came bubbling to the surface. A lump rose in his throat as he recalled his sweet, gentle sister. From the time she was a little girl, he’d wanted to shield her from harm’s way, to keep her safe.

  In the end, he’d failed her.

  But he didn’t intend to fail her children.

  The ringing of the phone pulled Cate out of a deep sleep, and she squinted at the clock, trying to focus. Eleven-fifteen. Not good. Late calls meant emergencies.

  She checked her caller ID, and her pulse went into a staccato beat as she snatched the phone from her nightstand. “Clay? What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry to bother you at this hour. Were you asleep?”

  “It doesn’t matter. What’s wrong?”

  “Emily had another meltdown. A nightmare this time.”

  Struggling to a sitting position, Cate pushed her hair back from her face. “Is she okay?”

  “Yeah. I got her settled and put back to bed.”

  “Okay. Good.” Cate took a deep breath and leaned back against the headboard. “Don’t be too concerned, Clay. Considering all they’ve been through, I’m surprised they haven’t both had more problems with nightmares. The memories of their volatile situation at home are imbedded in their subconscious. They’re bound to come through in dreams now and then.”

  “This nightmare wasn’t about their former life. It was about you. That’s why I called. She said there was some kind of incident today at the grocery store?”

  Surprise arched Cate’s eyebrows. “I knew she was upset, but I thought we’d gotten past that.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was no big deal. I lost control of the cart for a moment. A passing motorist was more than a little peeved when it came within inches of his very expensive car, and he let me know that in no uncertain terms. Emily witnessed it, but Josh was already in the car.”

  “The guy didn’t threaten you, did he?”

  The quiet menace in his question took her by surprise. He sounded as if he’d punch the guy out, given the chance. “No. I’m fine, Clay. There was never any danger.”

  “Okay.” He expelled a breath. “Sorry I bothered you.”

  “It was no bother. I appreciate your concern.”

  A few seconds of silence ticked by. Outside Cate’s open window, a distant rumble of thunder vibrated through the air, signaling the approach of unsettled weather.

  Clay cleared his throat. “Look, Cate, about the other day—the hand thing. I’ve been trying to find an opportunity to bring it up, but you’re always with the kids. Anyway, I know it made you uncomfortable, and I wanted to apologize for that. I’d like to get things between us back to where they were before. If that means hands off for now, so be it. I’ve got plenty of distractions anyway, with a custody battle looming. But the truth is, I like you—a lot. And once the situation with Josh and Emily is resolved, we need to talk.”

  She should have known he’d bring up their relationship eventually, Cate reflected in dismay. Clay was a forthright man who went after what he wanted with single-minded determination, no matter the obstacles. His custody fight was a good example of that.

  But he’d been honest from the beginning about his aversion to committed relationships, and he’d already taken on more of those than he’d ever planned. He didn’t need another one. Besides, she wasn’t in the market for romance. Those were formidable hurdles even a tenacious man like Clay would have a hard time overcoming.

  “There isn’t anything to talk about, Clay.”

  “Sorry. I don’t buy that. I’m not the playboy my father paints me to be, but I’ve dated my share of women. And unless my instincts are way off base, I think you’re as interested in me as I am in you.”

  “Interest and inclination are two different things.”

  She could hear the frown in his voice when he responded. “You want to explain that?”

  “Look, you have enough on your plate right now with the custody fight, okay? Don’t look for more problems.”

  “I don’t consider you a problem.”

  “That’s a mistake. Trust me.” The thunder rumbled again, closer now, and she forged ahead without giving him the opportunity to refute her statement. “Besides, we’re very different people who want different things out of life.”

  “I’m not sure that’s as true as it once was.”

  “I’m not willing to take that risk, Clay.”

  The silence on the line confirmed her suspicion that he was still not comfortable with the notion of commitment. While his willingness to assume responsibility for the children was a good sign, it didn’t mean he was ready to pledge his life to a woman. Even if there were no other impediments to exploring a relationship, Clay’s unsettled existence and uncertain future were major red flags.

  But her experience with her ex-boyfriend was also a reason for her to step back. She’d come to believe he cared for her despite her disability, too. And she didn’t intend to make that mistake again.

  “I get your message, Cate.” Clay interrupted her thoughts, his tone troubled. “And I don’t blame you for your caution, given the situation. I’ll tell you what. Why don’t we table a discussion of personal matters until the custody issue is settled? That will give us both a chance to think things through and give me time to get my act together.”

  A flash of lightning illuminated the dark sky outside her window, turning night into day as it bathed the world in brilliance. But the burst of brightness didn’t last.

  Just like her experience of love, Cate thought with a bittersweet pang.

  “All I’m asking for is some time, Cate.”

  At Clay’s husky plea, she closed her eyes, squeezing back the sudden tears that clouded her vision—and her judgment. She shouldn’t give him false hope. Her mind was clear on that particular point. But her heart refused to listen.

  “Okay. Let’s let it rest for a w
hile.”

  “I’m good with that.” The relief in his voice was palpable. “Now get some sleep.”

  But as the line went dead, Cate knew that was a lost cause.

  Chapter Eight

  “What the…” Clay turned into the driveway of the two-bedroom house he’d rented after his consultation with Mark two weeks ago and surveyed the scene.

  Cate had offered to meet him here this morning to help unpack and get the children settled, so he’d expected to find her waiting for him on this balmy late-May Saturday. But he hadn’t expected to find her father cutting the grass. Or Mark, up in the big oak tree out back, hanging a swing as Michelle directed his efforts from below. Or her mother setting out a picnic lunch on a portable table. Or Pop filling a neglected planter with flowers. Or Rob repairing the broken gate that led to the back yard.

  The entire Shepard clan had shown up to help him move in.

  He was dumfounded.

  “There’s Pop!” Josh exclaimed. “Hi, Pop!” he called through the open truck window, his vigorous wave communicating his excitement.

  The older man smiled and waved back as Cate stepped out the front door. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, the simple style revealing the classic planes of her face and reminding Clay of the Swan Lake picture. She was dressed in blue-jean shorts and an oversized T-shirt and was carrying a mop.

  As Clay set the brake, Rob swung open the back door of the extended cab and reached up to help the children out.

  “Morning, Clay.” He grinned and gave a thumbs up. “Nice house. The kids will love it.”

  “Thanks.”

  As he opened his own door and stepped down, Cate joined him, her green eyes sparking with excitement. “Surprise!”

  “I’ll say. What’s going on?”

  “Everyone wanted to help.”

  “Why?”

  She tilted her head. “Moving isn’t easy. And many hands make light work, as they say.”

  “But they hardly know me.”

  “The good Samaritan didn’t know the injured stranger, either. Helping those in need is the Christian thing to do. My family has always been like this. When I was sick, they were constantly around.”