He turned from her then and picked up his coat from the chair where she'd been sitting. He was almost at the steps when he heard her say his name. Very softly.
He stopped, then retraced his steps. When he reached her side he raised her chin, making her face him so he could look deeply into her eyes. Before they could speak, though, the telephone in the apartment rang.
Natalie uttered silent curses all the way into the house. This was the first time they had talked—really talked—in months. And the telephone had to interrupt.
He followed her, smiling at her frown of annoyance as she grabbed the receiver. Suddenly she put on her business look. It must be the agent from New York. A smile spread across her face, lighting her blue eyes. "He really wants it? Of course, I'll be glad to do revisions. How much? My God. I'll wait for his call tomorrow."
She hung up and held on to the phone for a minute as though for support. "Jake," she breathed. "You won't believe this!"
* * *
A few days later Jake called. It was nearly 9:00 a.m.; Natalie was sitting at the computer, finishing the last of the revisions the editor had requested.
"Could you take a few hours off?" he asked when she answered the phone. "I thought we might drive out to the docks. You haven't seen the addition and it's almost complete. We could stop somewhere for lunch on the way back."
Her heart soared. She wanted to dance and shout. But she hesitated. "I should be through here in about half an hour." Her attention was drawn to the baby, who sat on the floor in her infant seat, kicking away and making bubbles. "But, Jake, Mary isn't coming today. I'd have to take Annabelle."
"That's okay," he said, surprising her.
Natalie eyed the baby warily. Annabelle was teething. She had been drooling like an open spigot, all over everything, and she was occasionally fussy. Natalie bit at her lower lip. It might not be a good idea. This was the first time Jake had shown any interest in being around his child; she would hate for the day to be a disaster.
Before she could refuse, he'd taken her acceptance for granted. "I'll shower and be down in thirty minutes."
"Make it forty-five."
While Natalie stood under the pulsing spray, she thought to herself that Jake was about to get a dose of all the things entailed in taking a baby anywhere. She just hoped Annabelle wasn't too out of sorts.
She dried herself and reached for the bottle of lotion scented with jasmine. While she dressed in cool white city shorts and a red blouse she talked to Annabelle. "Now I want you to be a very good girl today, precious. This is an important outing. Understand? Do you want some lotion? Okay." She spread a dab on Annabelle's arm. "Mmm, you smell so good."
Annabelle laughed. Maybe it would be all right.
When Jake knocked on the door, Natalie greeted him casually, determined to be matter-of-fact about this. She handed him the diaper bag and her purse. She carried the backpack and the baby. "We'll have to go in my car or switch the car seat."
* * *
A couple of hours later, when Natalie dragged in, she was so depressed she could have wept. Jake hadn't complained, but he'd quickly agreed when she suggested having lunch another time. He'd also shown concern, worrying that the baby might be sick. That was a hopeful sign, wasn't it?
Hell, no, thought Natalie. Quit fooling yourself. Just be grateful that the check for your book is enough for you to live wherever you choose. When they'd pulled into the garage, he had paused only long enough to help her get the baby's equipment inside. Then he'd taken off in his own car.
Their own relationship was in the dust. Now it seemed there was no hope that he would ever have one with his daughter, either.
The day had been as big a disaster as Natalie had feared. The baby had cried and fussed and gnawed on her fingers and cried again, until Natalie had finally asked him to take them home.
Now Annabelle whimpered as Natalie laid her down for a nap. Then she started to scream. Her poor little gums were flaming red. There was nothing to do but to hold her, rock her and listen to her cries. And wipe the tears away.
* * *
After Jake dropped them off he drove to the cemetery. He'd been visiting here regularly. It was peaceful to walk under the towering oak trees with their spotty cloaks of Spanish moss.
When he reached the grave site he stood with his head bent, looking down for a long time. A year ago he had stood at this same spot. He'd thought his life was over. He had waited a long time for a woman like Lisa, a bright happy creature, someone as different from the rest of his life as day was to night.
"Lisa, my love, I think the time has come to say goodbye. To get on with my life. What do you think, sweetheart?"
Suddenly, without warning, he felt a surge of the sun's warmth on his head, pressure on his shoulder, like a message. A revelation, a blessing?
He didn't know. But the weight he'd carried around for more than a year was minimized within the blink of an eye. He straightened his shoulders and breathed deeply. He smiled. "Thanks," he said softly, and then headed back to the car.
He wasn't sure what would happen with Natalie. Perhaps, as she said, they would always be friendly but not intimate. They both had their ghosts to contend with. They were both wary because they had been left alone once too often. Too often to lean on, depend on, or need another person for their own happiness and survival.
Or perhaps they would become more than friends. Oddly, the other day, the day her agent had called, he'd begun to consider alternatives. As soon as she had voiced the misgivings she felt, he began to wonder. But then she'd announced the sum of money she was going to get for her book. And they wanted another as soon as she could write it.
With that much money Natalie could go anywhere. Why should she want to tie herself to someone who had given her nothing but grief?
* * *
Chapter 12
« ^
"Come to New York? Now?" exclaimed Natalie into the telephone. It had rung while she was heating the baby's bottle. "But I just finished the revisions yesterday. I haven't mailed them yet."
"Within the week. The sooner the better. Bring the revisions with you," answered the agent. "The publisher wants this contract signed and the book in production, Natalie. He wants a big splash next year at the American Booksellers Association's national meeting. This is a substantial amount of money. I think it would be worth the trip."
Natalie put her fingers to her other ear to shut out the sound of Annabelle's fussing. "Look, Alan, let me finish feeding the baby, and I'll call you back."
She went to Annabelle and scooped her up. "Sorry, sweetheart. Are you starving? Mommy's sorry." Balancing the baby on one hip, she took the bottle out of the warmer and tested the temperature.
Damn, now it was too hot. She turned on the cold water and let it splash on the bottle while she jiggled the baby on her hip, trying to calm her. "Just a minute now. You don't want to burn your tongue."
Annabelle's screams had reached a crescendo by the time the bottle cooled down. She popped the nipple into the baby's mouth. The screams ceased with a suddenness that, as always, surprised her. She chuckled, cuddled the baby and reentered the living room. The rocker was piled high with clean clothes so she settled on the sofa with a sigh.
Annabelle's fingers, which had been clenched into angry little fists, began to relax. She flexed them around the bottle, moving it from side to side. She wasn't strong enough yet to take the bottle away from her mother, but it probably wouldn't be long. After a few minutes, the edge was off her hunger and she paused briefly, smiling around the nipple.
Natalie heard the key in the door and smiled down at Annabelle. "Here's Mary," she told the baby, who sucked greedily, her cheeks rosy and tearstained.
Natalie laughed. "Look at this," she said when she heard footsteps approach. She cherished these moments. If she couldn't feed this child herself, at least she could hold her to her breast, close and warm, while she took her bottle. "A few minutes ago Miss Priss was crying as though her wor
ld was coming to an end."
Silence greeted her words. She looked up into Jake's gray eyes. He was dressed for work, his dark blue suit perfectly pressed, his tie neatly knotted at the collar of his white shirt. "Oh." The word came out on a soft puff of surprise. "I thought you were Mary."
"She just called me. She'd been trying to reach you, but your line was busy."
"Yes, I had a call. I'm sorry you were disturbed."
"It's okay. I was ready to leave for work. Mary will be a half hour late. She's waiting for the plumber to finish."
"Thank you for taking the message." She couldn't look away. For some reason he looked more rested, more relaxed. Obviously he had recovered from the trip with Annabelle yesterday. She held her breath, waiting for him to mention it.
But he didn't say anything. He simply stood there, watching her.
"The call was from New York. The publisher who is buying the book wants me to fly up there for a day or two."
Jake nodded, thoughtfully. "When are you going?"
"I'm not sure if I can arrange it. I'd have to talk to Mary first."
"She wouldn't mind moving back in for a few days," he assured her with an easy smile. "You know that."
She studied him for a minute. At last she made a decision. "I'm concerned about this flu that's going around. Would you—" She broke off. She was about to take a big chance and it made her nervous.
"Would I, what?"
Unconsciously she had removed the bottle to gesture with her hand. Annabelle squirmed, and when that didn't work, she squawked, immediately reminding her mother of the main objective here.
Natalie replaced the nipple in the baby's mouth and Annabelle relaxed again. "Umm … would you consider looking in on them every now and then, just to make sure they're both all right?" She released the request in a rush.
"Of course, I'll check on them," he agreed without hesitation. "They'll be fine. Don't let that keep you from going."
Natalie breathed easily again and smiled at him. It was the first time she had asked Jake to take any responsibility for the baby. "Thank you, Jake."
"Well, I've got to get to work." He didn't move. "Will you be leaving today?"
"Today?" The idea surprised her. "I suppose if I could get a flight out…" She didn't want to leave, not now. She needed time with him. "The sooner I go, the sooner I can get—back." She almost said, Get home.
His eyes narrowed as though he knew what she'd been about to say. "That's true." He rocked on his heels and looked down at the floor between his feet. Then he raised his warm, smoky eyes to hers.
Holding her gaze, he leaned forward, planting his hands on each side of her shoulders. He lowered his head until their lips were inches apart. Though he was careful not to crush the baby in her arms or touch her anywhere else, she could feel the heat of his body. It sent her own temperature climbing.
"Call me at the office before you leave, will you?" he asked in a husky voice. His breath smelled of mint. Then he closed the gap. His mouth was warm, his tongue was slick as he tasted the inside of her upper lip.
She was suddenly weak and limp. When he broke off the kiss, her pulse thundered in her ears. "Yes, yes, I will," she breathed.
She felt him start, saw his eyes widen as he straightened. She looked down at the baby, whose fists were flailing. Her fine brows were drawn together in a frown of annoyance. "Did she punch you? I'm sorry. She caught me on the jaw the other day."
"Good grief," he said, looking down at the baby for a minute. "Call me," he repeated. Then he left.
* * *
The contracts were duly examined and signed and Natalie was given a check. She took a taxi back to the Plaza Hotel. The editor was taking her and her agent out to dinner tonight, and tomorrow morning she would get the earliest return flight. They couldn't believe that she didn't want to stay over an extra day and shop, but she couldn't wait to get back to the peace and quiet of Savannah.
She was amazed how much she missed Jake and Annabelle and Mary. The scene in the garden the other night, and the kiss he'd given her the morning she left, had stirred hope once again in her breast. As she opened the door to her room, she heard the telephone ringing. She dropped her purse and the file containing her copy of the contract on the bed.
"Hello."
An unidentifiably hoarse voice answered. "Natalie, this is Mary."
Natalie's heart skipped painfully. "Annabelle?"
"The baby's fine," Mary reassured her quickly. "Natalie, I hate to do this to you, but I'm afraid I might be coming down with the bug that's going around. I haven't felt well all day."
Natalie glanced at her watch. Four-thirty. "I'll phone the airport and call you right back, Mary."
"Are you finished with your business? I hate this, honey. Wait."
"Mary?" She heard voices on the other end of the line. "Mary?"
"Hi, Natalie." It was Jake.
The sound of his deep voice was enough to make her knees weak, but she was also relieved. She sank down on the edge of the bed and gripped the receiver.
"Oh, Jake, I'm so glad you're there. Mary says she's sick."
"She doesn't look too good," Jake admitted. She could hear Mary remonstrate with him.
"But don't worry," he went on. "You finish your business. I'll take care of things on this end."
"Oh, thank you, Jake," she said in a rush. "I'll be home as soon as I can get a flight. But it probably will be tomorrow."
"Okay." He stopped. "Natalie?"
"Yes, Jake?"
"I miss you."
She squeezed her eyes shut. "I miss you, too," she murmured. "I'll see you as soon as I can." Dear God, she prayed, please, please don't let this mess things up.
The airline couldn't guarantee her a position on the last flight of the day, but they offered to put her on standby, and she decided to take the chance. She called the editor and her agent, explaining the situation. Then she called the desk to have her bill ready. She tossed her things into the suitcase. Twenty minutes after Mary's call, she was on the way to the airport.
* * *
Jake made a third trip from the apartment, loaded with necessities. According to Mary. Playpen, high chair, mountains of clothes, towels—babies, it seemed, couldn't be dried with the same towels adults used—diapers, toys, vitamins, bottles, food and formula.
Keeping her belly full would be the easy part, he decided. All he had to do was open a can or a jar. Or mix the cereal with a little milk.
The last trip would be to bring the child herself. God, what had he gotten himself into? Taking care of a baby was as alien to him as flying without wings. His ears rang with instructions and warnings.
Hell, he hadn't even been around a baby since Joseph had been born.
He called a taxi for Mary and picked up the last of Annabelle's paraphernalia, a fat pink shoulder bag that held extra diapers. Or was it formula? "You get home and into bed," he ordered. "I don't want to catch that bug, either."
He acted more confident than he felt when he slung the strap over his shoulder and plucked Annabelle up off the quilt where she'd been playing. He strode to the door with the baby in his arms, pausing only long enough to say, "Call me if you need anything."
Mary didn't come near him, but she didn't have to. She simply stopped him with a look. "Thank you, Jake," she said quietly.
They both knew that there was more to the platitude than mere gratitude. But he looked at her with mock severity. "You'd better not thank me yet." The baby squirmed and looked up at him curiously. "You, either," he told her.
"I'll have the phone right beside my bed. Just call if you have any questions."
* * *
Annabelle looked over the big man's shoulder to where Mary stood waving bye-bye. She raised her hand, but the door shut before she could wave back. She thought about crying, then decided against it. She could always cry later if she needed to, but this promised to be an adventure. She'd seen this person around, but he'd never paid much attention to her. He
seemed to be a friend of her mommy's, though, so she guessed it was okay.
She sat on his arm and hooked her hand in his collar. He took her outside and up some stairs. A tree hung over the steps, and she stretched out her arm to grab for the leaves, but he was moving too fast. All she got was a touch. She looked at her fingers to see if any color came off on them.
The man took her into a room where she'd never been before. She looked around. Wow. There were a lot of things to play with, bright shiny things she'd never seen before. There was a picture of a pretty lady on the wall. She was smiling.
He put her in the playpen, laying her on her back. His big hands were gentle. "Well, kid, I guess we're going to get to know each other," he said. He picked up a ring of big plastic keys and dangled them in her face.
She'd outgrown keys a long time ago. She snatched them away from him and threw them to the other side of the playpen.
"Okay, you choose," he said.
She looked around the confined space at her toys. But nothing caught her fancy. She'd rather look at him right now. She put two fingers in her mouth.
He had backed away. He sat on a sofa and crossed one leg with his ankle resting on his knee. He spread his arms along the sofa back and continued to stare, studying her as if she were a creature with whom he was unfamiliar.
Why didn't he smile? Everybody smiled at her. "Ooo," said Annabelle through her fingers.
He wiggled his foot. "I didn't plan on this, you know," he said. "But we'll survive."
"Urgh." She rolled over from her back to her stomach and squirmed her way to the mesh barrier. She put her face into the netting until her mouth and nose were pushed grotesquely out of shape.
The sight evidently alarmed him. "Hey, don't do that," he said.
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