She pulled her face back and laughed. Then she grasped the mesh and, after a few false starts, struggled to her knees.
He looked as if he was impressed. "I didn't know you could do that."
I can do lots of things you don't know about, thought Annabelle. "Arrr," she said. She stretched her arm up until she could reach the rail, planted one foot flat on the floor of the playpen, dragged the other one forward and stood, teetering dangerously. She peered at him from over the top rail and laughed again, so he could see her new tooth.
She knew she was sort of shaky, but he didn't have to watch her with such a nervous eye. "That's very nice," he said.
Very nice? It's actually wonderful, is what it is, man, thought Annabelle. She frowned, though. If she could just figure out how to get down it would be even better. Her mommy or Mary was usually there to help when she got stuck like this. Let's see…
"Why don't you sit back down before you fall?" he suggested.
The words had no sooner left his mouth than she was surprised into losing her grip. She sat down hard on her bottom. He leaned forward, concerned.
She was too well padded to be seriously hurt, but she might as well teach him a lesson. As he watched in dismay, she slowly extended her lower lip beyond her upper; she wrinkled up her eyebrows, looking pitiful. Water welled in her eyes.
And she spread her arms toward him.
Suddenly the man's face took on the strangest look, like he was wounded.
Bad.
It hurt her to see him. She pulled her lip back in. No, no, don't look like that. I'm sorry.
Before she could smile again to let him know she wasn't seriously injured, she was plucked from the playpen and wrapped very tightly in his big arms. He held her against his solid chest. His whole body was trembling; she could hear his heart under her ear. It was going very fast.
He rocked her back and forth and whispered several of her names. She wasn't sure yet what her most important name was. Her mommy called her Precious, and Mary called her Sweetheart. Sometimes they called her Annabelle. Now this person, who had first called her Kid, kept saying Annabelle and O honey over and over.
It seemed to make him feel better to hold her like this, so she stayed still for a long time. It felt good. His arms were warm and secure; she had the feeling that even a big wind wouldn't budge him.
Finally she just had to squirm.
He pulled back, and she smiled at him. That awful look wasn't gone, but it wasn't as bad as before.
"Ahhh," she cooed. There was water on his face; she tried to slap it away.
He caught her hand and kissed it. The hair that was on his mouth tickled. She giggled and pulled at the hair.
He carefully untangled her fingers and kissed her hand again. "You, Annabelle, are full of mischief," he said with an unsteady chuckle.
There, again, another new name. Mischief. That one sounded familiar, though. She wondered where she'd heard it before.
"Do you know who I am?" he asked after a minute. "Silly question, of course you don't. I'm your daddy. Can you say 'daddy'?"
"Umm," said Annabelle.
"Good try."
She smiled.
"What a pretty smile," he said softly, smiling himself. "You look like Lisa when you smile."
Who is Lisa? Annabelle wondered. She raised her eyebrows and made her mouth into an O.
He stood with her in his arms and walked to the fireplace. "This pretty lady is Lisa. She's—" He hesitated. "She isn't here anymore but, thanks to your mommy, we have this picture to remember her by. Someday your mommy and I will tell you all about Lisa."
She stretched out her hand to pat the picture.
* * *
Natalie went all through the apartment. Then she looked toward the ceiling. He must have taken her upstairs. Oh, Lord, Annabelle, I hope you've been a good girl.
Everything seemed quiet. She had an idea. She went to get her key ring. Then she went to the stairs that led to the main part of the house. The door hadn't been opened since Lisa had locked it a year ago.
She put her head through. And heard his voice coming from the kitchen, growling, "Your mommy must be a lot better at this than I am."
Annabelle gurgled. Something hit the floor.
Oh, no. Natalie stepped through the door and headed for the kitchen where she came to an astonished halt.
Both Jake and Annabelle looked as though they had taken a bath in baby fruit. Plums, evidently. Purple stuff was in her hair and his, all over the tray of the high chair, her face, his shirt. The baby looked healthy enough, but Natalie could have cried.
Jake was bending down to pick up a spoon from the floor when he caught sight of her in his peripheral vision. He swung around. "You're home."
"Yes. Need some help?" she said brightly.
Instead of answering, he rose in one smooth motion, came to her and hauled her up against him. His mouth came crashing down on hers. "Thank you," he said when he lifted his head. His eyes were blazing, his hand shook as he brushed her hair off her cheek. "Oh, God, Natalie, thank you."
Natalie tried to soothe him. "You're welcome. I was lucky to get a flight out. I'm really sorry you were left with this Jake. I'll get her out of here right now."
He looked taken aback. "Annabelle's not going anywhere. And neither are you."
She faltered. "You said—"
His smile would have melted the statue on the waterfront. Her knees were no contest.
"I said, thank you. Thank you for being patient with me when I was so full of bitterness. I was willing to throw away everything important in my life. Thank you for telling Mac that neither of us would consider outside adoption."
"I didn't know you knew about that."
He went on as though she hadn't spoken. "Thank you, my love, for fighting me when I was acting like an ass. Thank you for not giving up on me."
Her heart began to flower under the warmth and love in his eyes, but she was cautious. "Jake, I don't understand."
"Let me see if I can explain it to you without making myself seem any more blind and stupid than I am." He kept Natalie in the circle of his arms, but turned her until her back was against his chest and they both faced the baby.
Annabelle was watching with a pleased expression on her face. She swirled her palm in the goo on the tray. Then she gave her high-powered grin.
"I think Annabelle loves me," said Jake with quiet pleasure. "Though, God knows, I don't deserve it." He tilted her face up. His voice dropped an octave. "And I know I'm in love with you."
She looked at him over her shoulder. Her hand sought his where it lay at her waist. "You are?" she said weakly.
His voice was low and rough; his fingers entwined with hers and held on tight. "I put you through hell, and I will never be able to make that up to you. But I would like to spend the rest of my life trying, if you can forgive me."
"Oh, Jake, you have nothing to make up for. I forgave you a long time ago." Could this really be happening? she wondered as she turned in his arms and cradled his face between her hands. "You've given me Annabelle, you've given me a home and you've helped me tear down my own barriers. I love you, too." She raised herself on tiptoe and wrapped her arms around his neck.
The kiss was long and deep and full of exchanged promises. When he finally released her mouth, he rested his forehead against hers. "Do you think, although you are now rich and about to become famous, you might consider marrying me? Letting me become a legitimate part of this family?" He paused, his eyes dark with an abundance of love. "Let—let me learn to be a father?"
Could they make a life together along with their own ghosts? Natalie smiled at the thought. Yes, because their ghosts weren't the least bit forbidding. Joseph and Lisa must be smiling somewhere. They were both affectionate and warm and loving; this is what they would want, too. She was as sure of that as she was sure of anything.
"Jake—" She broke off, unable to believe that her dreams were going to come true, all of them, at last. Sh
e buried her face in his neck so he wouldn't see her tears. "I think we might consider it," she choked against his warm skin.
His arms tightened around her. "Oh, honey, I love you so much." He kissed her again, hungrily. He smelled of baby powder. She tasted plums.
They finished feeding Annabelle—together, amid much laughter. He asked dozens of questions about the baby. It seemed that he wanted to find out about everything he'd missed in fifteen minutes.
At one point during the questioning, Jake suddenly sobered. "There is one other thing we should talk about."
She was occupied in wiping Annabelle's chin and didn't look at him. "What's that?"
"The Reeds."
Her head whipped around; she caught her breath. She had not allowed her thoughts to dwell on them. "They won't approve, will they?"
"Approve? I don't know. I hadn't thought about it," he said, dismissing her concern.
"Then what—?"
He grasped the back of her neck and gently began to massage her there. "At first, they were as cruel to you as I was, Natalie," he said softly. "But they're nice people. They've asked about you and the baby, and I'm sure they regret the way they acted. If you can forgive them as you're forgiving me, I think we should drive up to Charleston, take Annabelle with us. After all, they're her only grandparents."
Natalie felt the sting in the back of her eyes.
Jake misunderstood the tears that welled there. He caught her in the circle of his arms. "I'll be with you, my darling. I'll never let you down again, I swear it," he said earnestly. "If things get unpleasant, we'll come home."
"It isn't that," she said blinking hurriedly. "I'm not worried about facing the Reeds, certainly not with you there." She smiled. "I was just thinking what a magnificent man you are. I'm very lucky—"
He cut off the words with a hard kiss. "I'm the lucky one," he growled. Then he covered her lips again.
Annabelle banged on the tray and squawked impatiently.
Natalie laughed at the picture the three of them made. She had some plums on her face, but father and daughter were a real mess. "I think we all could use a bath," she suggested with a laugh.
Jake scooped Annabelle out of her high chair and reached for Natalie's hand. Natalie noticed, as they climbed the stairs, that their daughter looked very much at home in her father's arms.
"I've got a better idea. We'll bath Annabelle together. Then when she's in bed we'll have a bath, the two of us." He grinned down at her.
She swallowed a lump in her throat. She had thought never to see such happiness in his eyes again or to feel such happiness in her own heart.
They were on their knees at the edge of the bathtub, watching the baby splash. Natalie had kicked off her shoes and pulled the pins from her hair. Jake was nibbling at her neck, whispering a vivid description of all the decadent things they could to, later, in the tub.
"Jake!" Natalie blushed, which was ridiculous—she hadn't blushed in years.
Though she had loved Joseph, it was becoming quite clear that Jake was the more imaginative brother. She looked up at him with curious relish. "Can we really do all those things?"
"Yep," he said with a chuckle. "We might even invent a few more."
"It's a good thing the baby isn't old enough to understand what you were saying," admonished Natalie primly as she soaped the washcloth and scrubbed Annabelle's hands. "You would have a lot of explaining to do."
Annabelle laughed.
* * * *
BABY MAGIC Page 20