If nothing else, she was a pro at taking old wounds and regrets and pushing them away.
She grabbed her water bottle and guzzled. Then she went inside, kicked off her shoes and socks and slipped into her favorite worn flip-flops. The aroma of coffee drew her to the pot that had brewed on a timer while she was out.
Drawing comfort from the rituals, Violet found routine helped control thoughts that invariably tried to intrude. She couldn’t allow a moment of worry over her relationship with her parents, or what her son might look like, or when her practice would make a profit. She needed to work hard and push ahead.
With a cup of steaming coffee laced with hazelnut creamer, she went outside to sit on the patio. Touching the screen of her tablet, she pulled up her schedule for the day. The first patient was a four-year-old who’d had a persistent cough. She’d tried two rounds of the same antibiotic, so maybe she’d try a different class. She also needed to consider cough-variant asthma. And order a chest X-ray to make sure she wasn’t missing something.
The sound of human voices joined in with the chorus of birds.
Or rather, the sound of one human. A male voice pitched into a high register.
She turned from her place at the table and spotted Jake in his backyard holding Abigail, cooing to her.
The silly tone made her smile. And put a dent in her concentration. She might as well go check on Abigail, one thing she could mark off her to-do list for the day.
As she walked across the dewy yard carrying her coffee mug, flip-flops snapping against her heels, she ran fingers through her hair. Hesitant, she slowed. She wore no makeup. Her hair was damp with perspiration. And her running clothes—shorts and a faded T-shirt—weren’t exactly ideal for visiting neighbors. Especially a handsome, single neighbor.
With a huff, she tromped ahead. This wasn’t a neighborly visit. And it certainly didn’t matter that her neighbor was handsome or single. This was strictly a professional check on a patient.
Yeah, and you’re looking real professional right now, Violet.
Jake sat squeezed into a swing attached to an old rusty swing set that had probably been his and Remy’s when they were growing up. With Abigail in his lap, her head on his knees and her feet pressed into his belly, he leaned his face closer to her. “Come on, give ol’ Jake a smile,” he said in the silly singsong voice.
“I’m afraid she won’t give you a social smile until she’s around six to eight weeks old.”
His head jerked up. “Oh. Good morning. You’re out early again, I see.”
“I’m always out at sunrise year-round. Watching the sun come up, preparing for my day.”
“By design or insomnia?”
“By my internal clock, I guess. I haven’t used an alarm clock since I was about eighteen.”
“Abigail is now my alarm and seems to favor waking at about five, an hour before my norm.”
She was pleased he didn’t act frustrated. Seemed to take what Abigail threw at him. “Was she fussing like yesterday?”
“No. Just bright-eyed and ready to eat. Which, by the way, is going better so far. No more drawing up her legs.”
“That’s good news.”
“Care to join us?” he asked, nodding toward the other swing.
“You think the old set can hold both of us?”
With a laugh, he quickly looked her over from head to toe, measuring her size. “I guess we’ll find out.”
As she gently slid into the swing, she checked out the baby. “Abigail looks good this morning. Like you said, very alert and bright-eyed.”
“Yeah. She cried some last night, but not as long. I feel half human today.”
He definitely didn’t look any worse for the wear. “You’ll be amazed at how good you’ll feel once she sleeps through the night. Of course, many parents panic when they wake and realize it’s morning.”
“I can imagine.”
Would Remy return before that point? If so, would Abigail be safe with her mother? “How is the Remy search going?”
“Since the phone number on hospital records is disconnected, I’m going to check into the address this morning.” Jake tucked the blanket around the baby and lifted her to the crook of his arm. “I plan to call Grace Hunt, who rescued me during the service last Sunday, and ask if she’ll help with child care.”
“Sounds like a great idea. Abigail settled nicely with her.”
“Yeah, a huge relief after we caused a ruckus.”
Violet bit back a grin and could relate to not wanting to make a scene—ever. “What if Grace can’t babysit?”
“I’ll ask her for recommendations.”
“I saw several potential babysitters on Sunday. And maybe I could help in a pinch,” Violet said before fully considering the offer. What was she thinking?
“Wouldn’t that mess with your work schedule?”
With a push of her foot, she set the swing in motion, embarrassed. Sure, she needed to keep tabs on Abigail. But babysitting? “Well, my afternoons tend to be slow until after parents get off from work.”
“What about tomorrow?” he asked, a hopeful smile lifting his brows. “I really need to get to a couple of work sites. Without a baby.”
She sighed, wishing she hadn’t already looked at the week’s schedule. “Tomorrow afternoon is open so far.”
“I’m working from home today, putting together an estimate and calling suppliers. But I’d love to let the crew know I’ll be there tomorrow.”
“I’ll pencil that in. But please ask Grace first.”
“Will do. It’s nice to have a backup plan, though.” He smiled, and the look of gratitude did funny things to her insides. Made her glad she could put that look on his face.
She popped off the swing, almost as dramatic as the midair dismounts she’d done as a kid. What a dork. Thankfully her mug was empty or she would have splashed the creamy mess all over herself. “Well, gotta go get ready for work.”
“Thanks,” he called to her back as she hurried toward home.
She’d already veered off her morning routine. Would feel behind and rushed for the rest of the day, thanks to a man and a baby.
A really sweet baby she might be babysitting tomorrow.
What had she potentially gotten herself into?
* * *
“Are you serious?”
“I am,” Jake said to Zeb over the phone. Because Zeb was there putting in flooring, Jake had asked him to cover for him—something Jake had never done. Had never even considered. Naturally, Zeb would be surprised.
“Until I can arrange for child care, I can’t be there as much as I’d like,” Jake said. “I’ll be by when I can.”
“You know I’m happy to help, but what’s going on?”
Jake heaved a sigh. “I wasn’t totally up front with you when I said I’m babysitting Remy’s baby. She actually took off and left Abigail here with me.”
“Ah, man. That’s tough.”
“I plan to locate Remy and talk her into coming home.”
“I’ve got you covered. Do what you need to do.”
“Thanks, Zeb. I owe you.”
When they hung up, Jake peeked in on a peacefully napping Abigail. He grabbed the baby monitor and sat at the kitchen table to open his laptop.
With Remy’s papers beside him, he compared her address on the documents. All the same. An Atlanta address. He typed it in a search engine.
Several entries came up. The top of the search was something called Peace House. He clicked a link to take him to the site.
A domestic violence shelter? His heart thudded as he sucked in a breath. “Oh, no.” Surely not.
Quickly searching the site, he discovered the address did match Remy’s paperwork. The phone number matched, too.
&n
bsp; The website said the number was for administrative offices. But previous calls had turned up a recording saying the number was no longer in service.
Could Remy have made up the address? Or chosen it to throw him off track? He could only hope so. Maybe she wanted to keep her real address private.
But why? Unless she was hiding.
A sick feeling of dread settled in his stomach. Could she have lied about Abigail’s father being dead? Was she trying to keep Abigail from an abusive father?
Lord, I pray Remy is okay. Please protect her, and help her stay clean.
Jake searched the shelter’s website further and found the director’s name and email contact. He quickly sent a message to Florence Phillips.
His need to find Remy, to know the truth, had just doubled in urgency.
He had to know how to protect Abigail.
Until he heard back from the shelter email, the only thing he could do was to go in person to check it out for himself. Which meant he needed a babysitter for more than the couple of hours Violet could spare.
He picked up the phone to call Grace Hunt’s number and got an immediate answer.
“Miss Grace, this is Jake West.”
“Oh, hello, Jake. How’s that adorable baby doing?”
“She’s doing better every day. In fact, that’s why I’m calling. I was wondering if I could hire you to babysit for me.”
The kind, elderly woman let out a sigh. “I wish I could, dear. But I have a jam-packed schedule right now. How long are you keeping the baby for Remy?”
Now that he’d told Violet and Zeb about Remy’s disappearing act, Grace would soon hear. News traveled quickly in their small town.
“Grace, I don’t know when or if she’ll be back.” He went on to explain the whole situation and about how Violet had shown him how to care for Abigail.
“Oh, you poor man. I’m sure you need a lot of help, what with your business to run and all.” She let out a huff. “I suggest you ask that pretty pediatrician to watch the baby whenever she can. Could be God brought you two together for a reason.”
Jake’s neck radiated heat like a 100,000 BTU gas furnace. “I appreciate your advice.” But if he had to ask Violet for help, it wouldn’t be because she was pretty or that God had brought them together for a reason.
In fact, he needed to be cautious. The woman might try to insert herself in his family matter. He had to keep her on his side.
“In the meantime, Grace, can you suggest any young women in the church I could possibly hire?”
“Well, that little Kelli Calhoun is in college now, taking summer classes. And the Brockett girl, bless her heart, works down at the IGA every weekday at 7:00 a.m., sometimes staying as late as 7:00 p.m. Hmm...let me see...” She paused for breath. “The Stephens twins are already babysitting full-time. That cute redheaded Emily is on the swim team, but maybe she’d have a bit of time?”
“She’s only in middle school. What about some young moms?”
“Just between you and me, Liza could probably use the extra money. But, Jake, honey, she already has four small children, and I don’t see how she could possibly care for another child as young as your Abigail.”
His shoulders felt as if they weighed a hundred pounds. “And you can’t think of anyone else?”
“Not a single one right now. But I’ll let you know if I do.”
Jake thanked her and hung up. If Grace and everyone else she knew were unavailable, it looked as if he was going to need Violet more than he’d anticipated. If he called on her too often or let her get too close, though, would she decide he wasn’t capable of caring for Abigail and try to intervene?
* * *
Violet approached the homey bungalow with some trepidation on Wednesday just after noon. Could she really babysit Abigail while remaining a neutral bystander, offering assistance as needed without attachment?
The front door opened, and Jake appeared wearing work-worn jeans and a company-logo T-shirt. His hair stood up as if he’d been jamming his hand through it. And he certainly didn’t look welcoming.
Maybe it wasn’t too late to back out. “Do you still need me to babysit?”
“I do. I’ve got a situation and need to get to the work site pronto.”
Assistance without attachment. “Where’s Abigail?”
He motioned her inside ahead of him. As she brushed past him and filled her nose with his clean, woodsy scent, she had to admit that he was easy on the nose...and the eyes.
Every time she entered his house, she felt at home. Comfortable.
Maybe comfortable was okay. But she shouldn’t allow herself to feel so drawn to him or to the baby. Not when the baby was most likely temporary.
Jake’s not temporary, though.
Jake leaned down in front of her face and smiled.
She’d missed what he’d said. “Excuse me?”
“I was saying the little gal just woke from a nap. I changed her diaper and put her in the bouncy seat.”
On the floor beside the couch, Abigail kicked her feet, making the seat jiggle.
“You’ve bought her more paraphernalia?” Violet asked.
His neck reddened at her question. “Yeah. I figured she was getting sick of looking at my chest.”
Violet’s eyes darted to his broad chest and doubted anyone would tire of that scenery.
She dragged her gaze away and nodded toward the baby seat with brightly colored toys suspended above it. “Yes, visual stimulation is nice.”
“Thanks again for coming. In case you need me...” He offered his cell phone. “Can we switch numbers?”
“Oh, sure.” She handed over hers and added her phone number to his contacts. Then they switched back.
It felt like such a date-type thing to do, so personal, that it made her heart flutter in her chest.
“Listen,” he said. “I have another favor to ask already.”
“Sure.”
“Don’t say that so quickly. This is a biggie.” He ran a hand through his unruly brown hair. “I checked out Remy’s address from the hospital records. It’s a place called Peace House in Atlanta. From their website, it appears to be a domestic violence shelter.”
Violet gasped. “Jake, no.”
“Yeah, that was my reaction.” He winced, his eyes sad. “The phone is disconnected. I emailed them through the website but got no answer. I’d like to go to the address, in Atlanta, to investigate.”
“I think that’s a good idea.”
“I wanted to impose again and ask if you can either babysit Abigail or...” He looked into her eyes. “Or go with me to help with the baby.”
“What if the father’s still alive and Remy has been trying to protect Abigail?”
“That occurred to me, too,” he said.
The thought of Abigail being in danger from an abusive father made Violet’s stomach drop.
If Jake somehow found Remy, would he turn the baby over to her mother? Violet wanted to be there to assess the situation. “Most domestic violence shelters are in undisclosed locations. But I think you do need to check the address she left you. I’d like to go with you...in case...well, in case Abigail needs me.” Her face burned because she wasn’t just worried about the baby.
“What day’s good for you?”
She lifted her chin and put on her business face. “How about I try to clear my schedule for Friday?”
He let out a deep breath as if he’d been holding it. Yet the crease between his brows didn’t ease. “All right. I’ll arrange it.”
Staring into each other’s eyes, neither seemed to know what to say.
Days ago, she would have thought of him as her worst enemy. And he probably felt the same.
Strange how concern for a tiny baby could bring t
wo people together.
Jake suddenly jerked his gaze away and clapped his hands together. “Well, I’ve got to go. Diapers are by the changing table in the first bedroom on the left. And there are more in the diaper bag.”
“That’s fine. Would you mind if I take Abigail to the grocery store? I figured I could take care of some of my errands.”
“Don’t mind at all if it’ll help you. I just hope she’ll cooperate.”
The baby gave a little peep of irritation as if ready to fuss.
“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Jake said with a laugh. “There’s an extra house key in the diaper bag. I’ll put her car seat base in your car on the way out.”
As soon as Jake left, the infant let out an irritated cry. Violet picked her up, and she settled immediately with the contact.
She packed up the diaper bag and then put Abigail in the carrier. Once she had the safety seat clicked in place, they drove to the store.
It felt like such a normal motherly thing to do—parking and carrying the baby carrier inside.
Violet attached the seat to the grocery cart. Pulling out her short shopping list, she headed to the produce aisle.
She stopped to look at bell peppers. “Hmm, what do you think, sweet girl? Should I buy red or yellow?”
Abigail gazed at her with big blue eyes and blew little spit bubbles. As Violet kissed a tiny hand, her heart swelled.
Another customer reached for a green pepper. “What a precious baby. And she’s being so good!”
“Yes, she’s a sweet one.”
Abigail’s tiny hand tightened around Violet’s finger, and invisible fingers seemed to wrap around her heart as well, plucking at the damaged heartstrings, heartstrings ripped apart when her child had been taken away.
With a brush of Abigail’s soft hair, Violet tried to rebuild the fortress that shielded her from longing for things of the past. But, for just a moment, Violet had glimpsed what it would have been like to raise a child she’d brought into the world, if circumstances had been different, if her parents had worried less about what the community thought and more about what was best for their daughter and grandchild.
Love Inspired May 2015 #2 Page 6