3, 2, 1...Married!

by Sharon Sala

  Carefully, Rachel maneuvered the wheelchair over the threshold. Because the house was built on four different, narrow levels, she found herself restricted to the ground floor, at least until such time that she felt equal to negotiating the stairs with crutches. Right now, it was nicer talking Bryan into carrying her up the stairs to their bedroom.

  “And why he called me the clever one,” Rachel murmured under her breath.

  “I heard that,” K.C. called after her.

  Sitting back on her knees, K.C. looked at her niece. Wavering. It really was a beautiful day and there was no reason to keep Gracie cooped up inside when the weather was so perfect. The weather was why, back in the fifties, her grandfather had transplanted his small family from the snow-laden terrain of North Dakota to the land of sunshine and endless beaches.

  And of would-be actors who were fickle and heartless.

  The sentiment sneaked up on her unexpectedly. K.C. frowned, thinking of Eric. She’d fully expected to be ringing in the New Year—the new century—with him at her side. Toasting it and each other at the stroke of midnight.

  But Eric, unbeknownst to her, had had other plans. The undying love he had pledged to her died a premature, swift and unexpected death after he’d played a few minor love scenes off-screen with the makeup girl who had worked on the one movie that was legitimately entered on his résumé.

  That had been at the beginning of the year. You would have figured that she would have gotten over him by now. But she’d loved Eric, had been fully convinced that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. To discover that she’d so completely misread the man and his intentions shook K.C. down to her foundations and made her doubt her ability to make sound judgments where people were concerned. At least male people.

  But Gracie shouldn’t be deprived just because her aunt had an inability to read men, K.C. thought, fondly ruffling Gracie’s hair. Getting to her feet, she took Gracie’s sweater out of the closet.

  “Listen to your aunt K.C.” She slowly slipped one sleeve of the sweater onto Gracie’s arm, careful not to bunch up the jersey sleeve underneath. “Don’t trust any guy farther than you can throw him, understand?”

  Silken light-blond curls only a shade lighter than her own hair bobbed up and down as the two-year-old solemnly nodded her head in agreement.

  Getting the other sleeve on, K.C. hugged Gracie to her. “You’re a love, honey.” She laughed, though something bittersweet stirred within her as Gracie hugged back. She could have had a child of her own by now, if only Eric had been different. “I’m putting in my order for twelve of you as soon as possible.”

  “You’ll need a man to help you fill out that requisition form,” Rachel called from the back room.

  Her sister had ears like a bat, K.C. thought, rising to her feet. “Haven’t you heard of sperm banks?”

  “Yes.” Rachel’s voice floated back to her. “I’ve also heard of satanic cults. Doesn’t mean I’d have anything to do with one.”

  Checking her pocket for house keys, K.C. got ready to leave. “Go to sleep, Rachel. Gracie and I will be back in an hour or so.”

  “Let me kiss my daughter before she goes,” Rachel called to her.

  Dutifully, K.C. brought Gracie into the back room. Like everything else in the house, it was decorated with an eye to make the beholder see that Rachel Collins had married money and was thrilled about it. For the time being, it had been converted to a bedroom to accommodate her convalescence.

  Rachel enfolded Gracie in her arms. “Help your aunt K.C. find a man,” she said in a stage whisper to the child as she kissed her.

  “Huh.” K.C. laughed shortly. The last thing she wanted, she thought, taking Gracie’s hand in hers, was a man. They were just too hard on the heart.

  It was going better than he’d expected.

  They were doing all right, Bailey Quaid thought, watching his son, Bobby, play with Jeff Hamlin’s boy, feeling more than a little surge of fatherly pride. Of course, Bobby’s adjustment had been a foregone conclusion. He didn’t remember his mother, not even slightly. The boy had only been a couple of months old when Gloria had decided that she’d made a huge mistake, both in marrying the father of her child and in having that child in the first place. Neither fit the life-style she saw for herself.

  Bailey remembered the expression on his ex-wife’s face when she had finally told him that she felt as if she were literally dying inside. He’d given her her freedom. What else could he do?

  And he hadn’t once told her how much it hurt to do so. She’d packed up his heart along with the rest of her belongings when she left.

  So here he was, almost fifteen months later, still adjusting to the fact that he wasn’t married anymore. Still trying to make peace with the fact that the love he’d offered had been carelessly tossed aside without so much as a backward glance.

  Just because you loved someone didn’t mean they had to love you back.

  Except in Bobby’s case, Bailey thought fondly, watching him charge through the grass, laughing as the other boy chased him. Bobby loved Bailey unconditionally. Bobby was the greatest gift Gloria could have ever given him. Even if she hadn’t actually intended it that way.

  “Hey, check out the new talent.” Billy Stevens nudged Bailey back into Saturday afternoon with a sharp poke in his ribs. Billy had been married twice and was perpetually optimistic about the institution. He nodded toward the petite, slender blonde who had just sat down on the next bench. There was a little girl with her, but it was the woman that drew all five sets of eyes.

  Nathan Calloway, the bedeviled father of twins, whistled low in appreciation. “Nice legs.” In typical Southern California fashion, the crisp, cool morning had given way to a warm afternoon, and the woman was wearing denim shorts, much to everyone’s viewing pleasure. He looked back at the others. “Think she’s married?”

  “Gotta be,” Taylor Kellogg commented, dusting sand off his son. Jimmy was covered from head to toe with enough sand to fill a small sandbox. “Who’d let someone like that get away?” It was hopeless. It looked as if a shower was in order. Taylor glanced at his watch. “Wow, look at the time. I’ve gotta be getting back.”

  Billy grinned broadly. “Hot date tonight?”

  “We’ll see,” Taylor replied enigmatically. His words signaled a general breaking up of the group as the others realized they’d already been here for longer than they’d intended. “You coming, Bailey?”

  He liked the guys, but he liked sharing a little one-on-one time here with his son, as well. “No, I’m going to stick around for a while. Bobby’s having too much fun on the slide.” He indicated the newest structure the city had put in. “I’ll see you guys here tomorrow.”

  The others sorted out their sons and daughters, said their goodbyes and left. It was only after Billy had driven away and Bailey had settled back on the bench that he suddenly became aware of the fact that his son was climbing on the slide.

  “Dad-dee!” Bobby crowed with glee, leaning his rounded tummy against the top. Balancing himself, he waved his hands over his head to draw his father’s attention. “Look!”

  Bailey looked, all right. Looked at his only child tottering on the brink of disaster while his heart suddenly lodged in his throat. Bobby, part mountain goat, part squirrel, had been born absolutely fearless. Right now, Bailey had enough fear for both of them.

  Knowing that the slightest jarring noise might throw his son off balance, Bailey called to him in an easy, low voice. “Wow, aren’t you brave? Braver than Daddy, that’s for sure. Stay right where you are, Bobby. I want to get closer to you to see you better. Put your arms down and hold on to the hand rail.”

  Please let me reach him in time.

  Long, muscular legs cut through the city-manicured grass, praying Bobby wouldn’t suddenly decide to see if he could fly.

  Something about the man’s voice drew K.C.’s attention away from Gracie and the game they were playing. She looked at him and then toward the
object of his concern. Her heart froze when she saw the little boy at the top of the slide.

  He was wiggling as he laughed.

  “Oh, my God.” Grabbing Gracie’s hand, K.C. pulled the little girl to her and hurried quickly over to the slide.

  She was almost there when the little boy decided to lean all the way over and lost his balance.

  Chapter 2

  Bailey was certain that his heart had stopped beating entirely as he rushed to catch Bobby. The distance between him and the slide seemed too great. A superhuman burst of adrenaline brought him to the foot of the structure just in time.

  It wasn’t until after the boy was clutched tightly against his chest that Bailey realized Bobby had hit his head on one of the metal rungs on his way down. And that in his haste to catch his son, he had pushed aside the woman who had gotten in his way. The woman who had come running from another direction to try to help.

  Looking down now, Bailey saw that he had sent her flying, ignominiously landing on the ground.

  Relieved that he had caught his son, concerned about any injuries that he didn’t yet see and chagrined at his almost cavemanlike behavior, Bailey looked at the woman who was picking herself up from the grass. There was a little girl hovering beside her. Had he hit the child as well?

  “Oh, God, I’m sorry. Are you hurt?” Still holding Bobby to him, Bailey grasped the woman’s hand and helped her up the rest of the way. Not waiting for an answer, he tried to explain. “It’s just that I—”

  Gracie’s high-pitched giggle assured them that no harm had come to her. Obviously Gracie thought this was some new game they were playing.

  Dusting herself off, K.C. warded off his apology. “That’s okay. You had other things on your mind.” She rotated her shoulders, feeling just a little achy. She’d had no time to brace herself before falling. Tomorrow this was going to hurt like the devil. A grin curved her mouth as she met his eyes. “You ever play tackle for the Chargers?”

  “No.” Bailey flushed, excruciatingly embarrassed. “Just some track and field.”

  That would explain the burst of speed, she thought. “Lucky for your son.”

  Bailey’s eyes appreciatively swept over her even as his son continued to wail. “You’re sure you’re not hurt?”

  “No, I’m fine, really.”

  Just a little rattled, she added silently. She was more concerned about the man’s son. Though the child was screaming, there were no tears steaming down the boy’s face. She suspected that it was probably just a matter of being badly frightened himself at the last moment, but it never hurt to be sure.

  “That’s a fearless little boy you have there. Great set of lungs, too.” Concern creased the man’s forehead as he looked at the boy, not that she blamed him. “Here.” K.C. transferred Gracie’s hand into the stranger’s. “You hold on to Gracie while I take a look at Mr. Daredevil, here.”

  Not waiting for his consent, K.C. took the boy from him, slipping the child easily onto her hip. Accustomed to taking charge, she only realized belatedly that the man had no idea of her training.

  “I’m a nurse.” She looked at the boy’s eyes. The pupils weren’t dilated. Very carefully, she examined his scalp. K.C. frowned at the bump that was even now forming on the little boy’s forehead.

  “He’s not bleeding.” Bailey offered his son an encouraging smile. Bobby’s screams had turned into whimpers as he looked at the woman ministering to him with wide, curious eyes.

  “No,” she agreed, “he’s not.” She couldn’t help thinking that the boy looked like a miniature version of his father. “He probably just had the wind knocked out of him and got frightened.”

  “He got frightened?” Bailey laughed. “His whole life passed before my eyes.”

  “A featured short, huh?” Sliding her finger down the little boy’s nose affectionately, she handed him back to his father. Suddenly shy, Gracie slipped her hand into hers and watched the man from behind K.C.’s legs.

  “What’s his name?”

  “Bobby”

  “Well, I think Bobby’s going to be just fine. Kids bump their heads all the time.” Still, she knew it didn’t hurt to be cautious. “But if you want to play it safe, you might think about having him checked out at the walk-in clinic down the road.”

  “Walk-in clinic?” Bailey tried to recall if he ever remembered seeing it, but his mind was still unfocused, his thoughts scattering about like so many beads escaping a newly broken string.

  K.C. picked up Gracie, although it seemed that the little girl would have liked nothing better than to wander off while her back was turned. “Yes, just down the road on Baldwin.” She nodded in the general direction.

  Finishing up the project on his drawing board could wait. He fully intended to take the woman’s suggestion to heart. This way, he wouldn’t sit up all night, worried that he’d been too lax about something serious.

  “Would you happen to know the address offhand? I’m fairly new around here. I just moved from Malibu about five months ago.” He tightened his arms around Bobby as the boy shifted, squirming. “Afraid I haven’t had the need to visit an emergency clinic until now.”

  K.C. raised a dubious brow as she looked at Bobby. “I find that hard to believe.” She looked back toward the houses in the development. “I’ll tell you what, I’m staying right over there.” She pointed out the blue-and-gray town house. “Let me just drop Gracie off and I’ll drive you over.”

  Relief flooded through Bailey, along with more than a sizable amount of gratitude. Accustomed to being on his own with Bobby, it was really nice to have a little help once in a while. “I’d really appreciate it—if it’s not too much trouble…”

  K.C. was already quickening her pace. “No trouble at all. You wait right here.” She kept the little girl perched on her hip as she hurried back across the street.

  “You know something, Tiger?” Bailey murmured to his son, “I think we’ve just run into an angel of mercy. And that had better be the only kind of angel you run into for a very long time,” he ordered just before he pressed a kiss to the top of the boy’s head.

  His arms around his father’s neck, Bobby nestled in closer.

  Watching the whole scene from her window, Rachel thought this one looked like a keeper.

  The next moment, K.C.’s voice startled her as she called out, “Rachel, I’m leaving Gracie here. I have to go out for a while—”

  Turning, Rachel was in time to see her sister running by the doorway to the back room. “I’m in here,” Rachel called, stopping K.C. in midrun. “Where are you going with him?”

  “Him?” K.C. echoed as she entered the family room.

  “Him,” Rachel repeated. “The him with shoulders you could land a small two engine plane on. The one you were talking to.” She moved so far forward on her seat, it looked as if she were going to fall off. “Good job. I saw everything from the window.”

  “Then you saw the little boy tumble off the slide. He hit his head and I’m showing his father the way to the walk-in clinic.”

  “Good for you!” Leaning over, she took Gracie’s hand, waving her sister off. “Don’t worry about a thing, I can handle things here for a while. Just go.”

  K.C. couldn’t leave without at least saying something. “What are you doing at the window, anyway? I left you lying down in the other room.”

  “I got bored.” Rachel shrugged innocently. “A woman has to do something to entertain herself and I’ve seen all the movies on the cable channels.”

  K.C. sighed. Rachel was incorrigible. With a shake of her head, K.C. grabbed her purse. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  “No hurry. Take your time,” Rachel called after her. “Men like to have their hands held during times of strife. By the way, you picked the best one of the litter.”

  “I didn’t pick him,” K.C. declared firmly.

  Best one of the litter. K.C. hurried out of the house. Rachel made it sound as if she were picking out a puppy. Her sister sore
ly needed a hobby. As soon as Rachel got back on her feet again, she was going to enroll her in some kind of extension classes or something, K.C. promised herself.

  Because the garage only accommodated Rachel and Bryan’s cars, K.C. kept her own parked in the guest area, even though Bryan was away for the day at a meeting upstate. She got in quickly and started the vehicle up. Moving carefully along the narrow street within the enclosed development, imported gravel crunching beneath her tires, K.C. made her way out to the serpentine path that went past the park.

  The man was waiting for her at the curb. It occurred to her that she still didn’t even know his name. And that he didn’t know hers.

  At least he wasn’t an operator, using this as an opportunity to hit on her, she thought, pulling up to the curb.

  Bailey bent slightly so that he could look in and see her face. “I’m going to need a car seat—”

  K.C. grinned. “Way ahead of you.” She indicated the seat in the back. “You can put your son into Gracie’s seat.”

  Opening the rear passenger door, he gently lowered his son into the car seat, then strapped him in. “You seem to be one jump ahead of me.”

  Bobby protested his confinement and began whimpering again as his father got in beside him.

  “Comes with the territory. I was raised with three brothers and a sister. When you’re the runt of the litter, you have to think fast if you want to survive.” She realized that she’d used her sister’s terminology. Rachel was definitely having too much influence over her lately, she mused.

  “That must have been some litter,” he murmured.

  Looking in her rearview mirror to check out the road, her eyes met his. The quiet compliment warmed her. “By the way, I’m K. C. Haley.”

  “Casey?” he repeated. “As in the engineer in the children’s song?”

  He really was into kids, wasn’t he, she thought. Most men wouldn’t have been acquainted with the tune. She caught herself grinning. “No, as in Katherine Colleen. My mother’s name was Katherine and so was my grandmother’s. Grandma lived with us. Calling me K.C. just made things a little easier.”