by Holly Jacobs
Or hell, she should have had Lily check on Abbey when she’d offered. Lily would have taken one look and known there was a problem. She would have told Mattie to get Abbey to the doctor’s right away.
Abbey hadn’t complained about her ears hurting, but her mother or Lily might have asked more questions—better questions. One of them could have headed this whole thing off, and if Abbey had still convulsed, then her mom would have been here to stay with the kids.
Mattie couldn’t sit, much less sleep. She got up to check on Abbey again.
Still breathing.
Gently she placed her hand on Abbey’s forehead. It felt a bit warm, but not hot like before.
Abbey didn’t need any more Tylenol or antibiotics.
She paced back to the window and stared at the dark street that so complemented her dark thoughts about what-ifs.
“Mattie?”
Finn stood behind her.
She’d been so lost in the what-ifs she hadn’t heard the door open or him enter the room.
Which meant that Abbey could need her and maybe she hadn’t heard. She turned to look at the little girl, and, as if sensing her thoughts, Finn said, “Shh. She’s all right. Right now it’s you that I’m worried about.”
“I’m fine. Just ducky.” Her voice broke and she felt tears well in her eyes. She blinked hard. She would not cry in front of Finn Wallace.
“You did everything right,” he whispered.
“No. I’m lost at this stuff. What if—”
“No.” He’d been louder, and switched back to a whisper. “You’re not going to play what-if. We’re going to deal with what-is. And what-is is that Abbey’s fine. What-is is Zoe and Mickey are fine and probably having the time of their lives. I’ll bet your mom let them have a sugary bedtime snack and stay up late for a school night.”
Mattie sniffed. She might not cry in front of Finn, but she couldn’t help the sniffling. “Probably.”
“What-is is that the kids are all okay. The way I see it, everyone’s fine. Everyone but you.” He held her close. “I know you consider everything I say suspect. I don’t blame you. Let’s face it—I’ve said a lot of stupid things recently. But this once would you trust me? Get some sleep. Abbey’s fine. You set up the old baby monitor, right?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“So, come on, let’s get you tucked in. She’s going to feel well enough tomorrow to keep you running. You need some sleep.”
He left Abbey’s door open and crossed the hall with Mattie. “In bed.”
“I can get myself in bed on my own,” she whispered.
“I’m going to tuck you in. Doctor’s orders.”
She laughed. “You think you can get your way by throwing around your medical degree?”
“Not most of the time, but tonight, yes.”
She crawled in between the covers. “You wanted to talk to me earlier?”
He shook his head. “Not now. Later. Now, I want you to go to sleep.”
“I don’t think I can. I can’t help but think about—”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “When I was little my mother would give me a dream.”
“Pardon?” she asked.
“I had horrible nightmares, and if I woke up after one, or couldn’t sleep because I was worried about the possibility of having one, she’d give me one of hers. So tonight, I’m going to give you a dream, too.” He lay down on top of the blankets, his head next to hers. “Now, close your eyes.”
“Finn, this is dumb.”
“No, it’s not. It’s just what the doctor ordered. Close them.” He carefully trailed a finger from her eyebrow down over her eyelids, forcing them to close.
Mattie thought about arguing, but decided it might be faster to simply humor him. She closed her eyes and snuggled under the blanket.
“Tell me your happiest place,” he said softly, his breath brushing against her cheek. She felt unexpected shivers climb her spine. “Someplace that makes you feel safe,” he continued.
Mattie almost said her parents’ home, but realized that while that was once true, it wasn’t anymore. The place that she felt the safest, the happiest, was right here in this house with the kids. But she didn’t want to tell him that. She didn’t want Finn to think she was saying it as some kind of volley in their legal battle. And maybe, saying it would say more than she was comfortable with, so she went with, “Valley Ridge.”
It was the truth, but not too much of the truth.
“Fine. The dream I’m going to give you is here in Valley Ridge. You and the kids. You head to Colton’s farm. The grapes are in and you can smell them, sweet and tangy at the same time. The corn is drying on the stalks and it rustles in the autumn breeze. Bear is running amok, and the kids are chasing him, laughing at his barks. You...”
He continued rattling off a dream, as if she were a child needing that kind of comfort. She snuggled closer, and lulled by his voice, the sound of Abbey breathing through the baby monitor and the warmth of his body, she finally felt that ball of tension she’d carried since this afternoon unwind.
And she realized with even more clarity, that her happiest place was here.
To her consternation she knew it wasn’t only the town, the house or the kids...it was all of them, and Finn Wallace, too.
An image of Finn, driving the John Deere with Colton’s hat perched on his head flitted through her mind and she pushed the image aside.
This was not her cowboy hat moment.
* * *
FINN WISHED ADULTS WERE as resilient as children. Abbey sat at the kitchen counter looking almost completely well.
“Waffles,” she proclaimed, her breakfast choice clearly. “Aunt Mattie buys some for treats. And juice.”
He wasn’t sure where waffles stood on Mattie’s healthy food list, but he decided that after yesterday’s scare, she’d indulge Abbey in exactly the same way he planned to.
He opened the freezer and couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw the box of frozen waffles. The waffles were whole grain.
“They’re browner than the ones Mommy used to get, but they still taste good,” Abbey informed him. “Aunt Mattie, she don’t like white stuff...she likes brown. Brown bread. Brown rice. Brown waffles. She says you should eat lots of colors....”
He listened as Abbey regurgitated Mattie’s healthy food rules and he popped the frozen waffles in the toaster.
“I got brown waffles and orange juice. Maybe there’s some pink yogurt?” Abbey asked.
He opened the fridge and found strawberry yogurt and held it out for his niece to see and approve.
“Yeah, that’s it, Uncle Finn. That’s three colors. Three colors is good for a breakfast, right?” she checked.
“I’ll confess, I never thought about how many colors I could fit into a meal, but I think three might be a perfect number for breakfast.” Leave it to Mattie to take something like nutrition and turn it into a game. He’d have never thought of it.
Abbey looked pointedly at his cup. “You got coffee, and that’s brown. You need two more colors.”
He reopened the fridge and grabbed another yogurt. He held it aloft for her approval.
Abbey nodded. “That’s pink, and that’s good, but you need one more.”
He was about to go scrounge another color, but the toaster dinged, so he opened Abbey’s yogurt and started to pull out the waffles, when a noise that was the equivalent of stampeding elephants made him jump.
“W
e’re home,” Mickey screamed as he raced into the kitchen. “Uncle Finn, you’re here early.”
Zoe and Grace followed Mickey in. “I slept in your bed last night, kiddo.” That was a lie. Oh, he’d spent a while in Mickey’s bed before he heard Mattie, but after he gave her a dream, he’d fallen asleep next to her. Thankfully, he woke up before her and unwound himself from their mutual embrace without her waking. He couldn’t imagine what Mathilda Keith would say about him sleeping with her.
It occurred to him that he wanted more than a platonic version of sleeping with her, and he absolutely couldn’t imagine what she’d say to that revelation if he told her.
“Aunt Mattie was worried about Abbey and wanted a doctor in the house,” he finished in a rush.
“Yeah, you can fix anything.” Without waiting for a reply, Mickey ran over to his little sister and pulled her braid. “You’re not twitching....” He flopped onto the kitchen floor as if he was going to do a replay for Abbey when Mattie’s mom said, “That’s enough, Mickey. Go get changed into some clean clothes for school.”
Zoe walked over to Abbey and hugged her in a very uncharacteristic gesture. “Don’t do that again, okay?”
“I won’t,” Abbey assured her. “Uncle Finn says I gotta take my medicine till my ears aren’t sick and I’ll be all better.”
Zoe kissed Abbey’s forehead and turned to presumably go get dressed, too.
“Cup of coffee for an old woman?” Mattie’s mom asked.
“Grace, I’d definitely give an old woman coffee, but right now there seems to be a lack of them here. But maybe I could interest you?”
She laughed. “Oh, you’re a schmoozer. But I’ll take you up on it. Black, please.” He brought Abbey her waffles, and Grace her coffee.
She took a long sip then asked, “Is Mattie sleeping?”
Finn could hear Mickey charging around upstairs. “Probably not for long. It was all I could do to convince her to try to get some sleep last night. She was worried about a certain little redhead.”
“Aunt Mattie worries about us a lot,” Abbey said around a bite of waffle. “She says it’s her job to worry and then she says you gotta do your best at your job, so she worries real good.”
“Kids will do that to you,” Grace agreed. “My three turned me into a first-class worrier.”
There was truth in that statement. He could spout all the medical aspects of febrile convulsions, and yet, his background didn’t stop him from being worried enough to call in sick today. He knew his partners would have to cope and his patients be inconvenienced, but he needed to be here with Abbey and the other kids...and with Mattie. “Worry seems to come with the territory. I never was this worried when—” He cut himself off. He’d been about to say when Bridget was alive, but he didn’t want to upset Abbey, who was happily munching on her waffles.
Grace seemed to understand. “It’s different now for both you and Mattie. You’re the responsible ones, not only the aunt and uncle who can breeze in and out at will.”
He nodded. That was the difference. He felt responsible, not only for the kids, but for Mattie.
He’d been too busy establishing his practice to get seriously involved with anyone. He wasn’t ready for the responsibilities that came along with a relationship.
But this was different.
He’d had responsibilities thrust on him when Bridget died. And it wasn’t as cumbersome as he’d thought it would be. Granted, he’d thrown his whole schedule into chaos, but right now, he couldn’t think of anywhere he’d rather be than sipping coffee with Mattie’s mom as Abbey ate her waffles, her siblings thudded upstairs...and Mattie was sleeping in the bed.
The bed he’d shared with her.
Finn thought about giving Mattie a dream last night. He’d never told anyone that story before. His mother sharing dreams with him had seemed too personal to share. He’d never even told Bridget. And yet, he’d told Mattie, whose favorite place was Valley Ridge.
And if someone gave him one right now, his favorite place would be Valley Ridge, too. More specifically, it would be right here, in this house, with these people.
Last year it would have been in surgery in Buffalo.
How on earth was he going to reconcile those two very different dreams?
He wasn’t sure, but somehow he’d do it. Mattie was right, he didn’t like to lose, and he’d be damned if he started with something this important.
* * *
MATTIE WOKE UP TO THE sounds of Mickey and Zoe in their bedrooms. She checked the clock. Her mother must have brought them home to get ready for school.
She peeked in Abbey’s room and found the bed empty. She knew it probably meant Abbey was downstairs with her mother, too, but she hurried down, needing to see the little girl for herself.
She paused at the kitchen doorway and found Abbey, looking quite normal, eating a waffle. Her mom and Finn at the island with her, chatting seriously.
Then she heard Finn say, “I was never this worried—”
He cut himself off, but Mattie knew he meant to end the sentence with when Bridget was alive.
She felt sucker punched, and stepped out of the doorway a moment to recover. She didn’t listen to the rest of the conversation. Couldn’t. She didn’t want to hear what her mother and Finn were saying. Both of them were probably beside themselves with worry about the kids being left in her care. That’s probably why her mom kept the other kids last night. She didn’t think Mattie could handle the older kids and a sick Abbey.
That’s why Finn stayed, as well. No matter what he said, he blamed her.
She told herself she was being ridiculous as she had the thought. And if it were simply that, a thought, she could probably have convinced herself it was nothing. But it was a feeling. She felt as if she were letting the kids down. Even though she knew that her friend couldn’t have stopped Abbey from being sick, she felt as if Bridget would have done something more.
She felt inadequate.
And those feelings were coloring her interpretation of Finn’s words.
He’d never been as worried when Bridget was alive.
Well, the truth of the matter was, she hadn’t been as worried when Bridget was alive.
Mattie knew she was never going to measure up. No matter how she tried to fill the void in her borrowed family, she’d never be able to. Not wholly. Not fully.
Neither could Finn.
The best they could do was the best they could do.
Her brief mental scolding didn’t change her feelings, but it did make her square her shoulders and join the others in the kitchen. She immediately looked at Abbey and tried to tell if she was better.
“Aunt Mattie was a sleepyhead,” her youngest charge proclaimed.
“Aunt Mattie was up all night worrying about a certain someone,” Finn said, coming to her defense.
“Good morning, sweetie,” her mother said. “I’m going to take the kids to school, then I’m filling in at the coffee shop for you.”
“Mom, you don’t have—”
“My grandmother always said, ‘I don’t have to do anything but die and pay taxes.’ I want to. Before you came home and went to work, Rich started to teach me the business. He’s coming in this morning to work with me and give me a refresher course. I was going to be his sub, and now I’ll be yours. Taking care of kids means being able to be fluid about...well, everything. I’m here to help with that.”
Mattie thought about protest
ing. She thought about telling her mother that she could manage it all on her own. That she didn’t need any help. But after her brief mental scolding, she realized that her knee-jerk reaction was an attempt to prove that she could measure up to Bridget, even though she’d already acknowledged that she never could.
The thought was freeing.
She didn’t have to be Bridget. She was just Mattie, and today, Mattie didn’t want to go into the coffee shop. She didn’t want to prove herself to anyone...not even prove herself to herself. She wanted to stay home and take care of Abbey. With that in mind, she smiled at her mother and said, “Thank you.”
Her mother set down her coffee cup with a thud and asked, “Okay, who are you and what did you do with my daughter? I thought we’d have a fight. I thought I might have to weep and whine that you never let me help you, which would make you feel guilty enough to say yes. You were never one to accept help very easily. And here you are, saying yes with no fighting, cajoling or tears?”
“Who? Mattie fighting?” Finn teased.
“Aunt Mattie says that it’s okay when I need help. That’s what aunts are for. And Mommy didn’t mind, neither. So, maybe that’s what moms are for, too.” Abbey nodded, agreeing with her own sagelike wisdom.
Tears welled up in Mattie’s eyes, but she held them in check. “That’s definitely what moms are for, and that’s why I’m going to let my mom take Zoe and Mickey to school and then go to work for me. You see, I have other plans.”
“What plans?” Abbey was well enough to look intrigued by the idea of other plans.
“Well, I’m spending the day snuggled on the couch with a certain little girl with red hair and freckles. We’re going to read books and cuddle the whole day away.”
“Can we read the rest of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz?” Abbey asked.
Mattie nodded and was rewarded with one of Abbey’s radiant smiles.
“Uncle Finn, do you want to stay and cuddle me and Aunt Mattie today?” Abbey’s question was innocent, but Mattie found her cheeks warming because her question brought to mind Finn tenderly tucking her in last night. Finn whispering a dream into her ears. Finn holding her until she slept.