“Do you have a clean towel?” she asked.
“Yeah. Um. I’ll get it.” He pulled open a cupboard door and Ella turned her wide eyes to Evangeline as if seeking answers to questions she couldn’t articulate.
“Hey, little one,” Evangeline said, cupping the warm water and pouring it over her body. She shot a glance over her shoulder at Denny, who hovered in the background, his hands shoved into the pockets of his blue jeans, looking puzzled and concerned at the same time.
“So why do you think she’s not your daughter?”
Denny blew out a sigh. “Deb said my name is on the birth certificate. But Lila and I were married for five years and she never became pregnant. I thought she couldn’t have kids. But if she’s eighteen months old, as Deb says she is, maybe. She might be.” He blew out another sigh as he stepped closer, as if to get a better look at his daughter.
Evangeline felt her initial reaction to Denny had been justified. No hero material here.
She finished washing Ella, who was quiet now, which made Evangeline even more concerned than her outraged sorrow had.
“Can you hand me the towel?” she asked, pulling the plug in the bathtub.
A thick yellow towel appeared over her shoulder. She wrapped it around Ella’s shining little body and patted her dry.
“Do you have the bag of clothes?” she asked, turning to get up. But the weight of Ella sent her off balance and she stumbled.
Denny caught her by the arms, steadying her. His hands were large and warm and solid.
She looked up at him, surprised to see him staring down at her, a peculiar light in his eyes. Then he blinked and Evangeline wondered if she had imagined it. He released her and stepped aside.
“The suitcase with the clothes is in the living room,” he muttered as Evangeline walked past him. “I picked some out.”
Ella was quiet as Evangeline set her on the floor beside the suitcase, then sat, cross-legged, to dress her.
“I don’t know if the clothes are okay,” Denny muttered, hovering behind her. “Wasn’t much to choose from...” He let the sentence trail off, as if unsure what to say.
Evangeline choked down a laugh at the sight of the tiny blue flannel shirt and blue jeans he had laid out on the floor. Exactly like the clothes he favored.
She found another onesie and some socks among the sparse offering of clothing and made quick work of putting another diaper on Ella and then the onesie. Settling the little girl on her lap, she wrestled her feet into the socks, then the blue jeans. Then she worked the shirt onto the now-squirming little girl.
By the time Evangeline snapped up the shirt, Ella was leaning away from her. She elbowed Evangeline in her chest as she scrambled to her feet. She fell, quickly pushed herself upright, then toddled over to an empty box in the middle of the living room and started pushing it.
Her hair was a mess of damp curls. Evangeline would have to wait for Ella to settle down before running a brush through them.
“She seems happier,” Denny said, dropping into a chair beside Evangeline, resting his elbows on his knees.
Evangeline pulled her knees up, wrapped her arms around them, her skirt puddling onto the floor around her legs. In contrast to her wails of a few moments ago, Ella now made no sound at all, seemingly content to push the empty box around the floor.
But happy? Evangeline doubted it. The little girl had a look of adult resignation on her face. She didn’t even so much as look at either Evangeline or Denny, her entire concentration on the box.
“So now what?” Evangeline asked.
Denny heaved out a sigh and Evangeline shot a quick look his way. He was staring at Ella, her dirty onesie and sleeper dangling from his hands, still looking as confused as when she’d first walked in on them.
“I have no idea.”
“This Deb woman you were yelling at...” Evangeline paused, not sure how much she was allowed to ask of someone she had only met a couple of days ago.
“My sister-in-law,” he said. “Lila’s sister.”
“And Lila is your wife?”
“Was my wife.” This elicited another sigh. “Deb just told me that she died...that she died a month ago.” Denny stopped there, his voice breaking, and Evangeline reached out and laid her hand on his arm.
Denny shot her a quick look of thanks. “I didn’t know she was sick. We had been divorced for a couple of years. We didn’t stay in touch.” He released a harsh laugh. “Deb didn’t even call me when she died. I knew Deb disliked me, but really...” His voice faded away as he shook his head again.
“You didn’t know about Lila’s death before today?”
“Not a clue.” Denny bunched the clothes in his hands, his knuckles growing white. “She was my wife and I had to hear about it like this.” Denny dropped the clothes and shoved his hands through his hair.
“I’m so sorry,” Evangeline murmured, not sure what else to say. She felt bad for the man. “That must be hard news.”
They were quiet a moment, then Denny dragged his hand over his face, rasping on the stubble on his chin. “It is. A bit. Trouble is Lila and I weren’t close. After the divorce she never wrote, never called. But she was my wife. I should have been told. I would have gone to the funeral.”
Evangeline caught the plaintive note in his deep voice. It wasn’t hard to see that in spite of what he said about his ex-wife, he had cared for her.
So what had happened to instigate the divorce?
She dismissed the question as quickly as it formed. She didn’t need to get involved with Denny’s obviously messy past.
“So what’s the story with Ella, then?” she asked, watching the toddler push the box around, her passive expression more heartbreaking than her tears had been. This little child had been uprooted from her life, dropped into someone else’s, with no consideration for her feelings. Who knew what she was thinking.
“I don’t know. Deb shows up out of the blue with this little girl, saying she’s mine,” Denny said, confusion clouding his features. “If she is, why didn’t I hear about this sooner?”
Evangeline wasn’t sure what to say, either. Denny’s life had obviously taken a complicated turn.
Trouble was, she had already spent more time than she should here. But she felt bad leaving Denny with this little girl.
She glanced at her watch. “Sorry, I should go.” She had yet to make her supper. Her book club was coming tonight and she had to make coffee and prepare the room.
“Of course.” He looked up at her and the look of sheer terror on his face made her smile at the sight of such a large man brought to such confusion by a toddler. “So what do I do next?”
Ella had stopped pushing her box and was staring at him as if wondering herself what was happening.
“She’s probably hungry or thirsty,” Evangeline suggested.
Denny shrugged. “What does someone her age eat? I haven’t even had time to go grocery shopping.”
He looked so confused that Evangeline felt a glimmer of sympathy for the guy. This had to be overwhelming.
She felt torn between her schedule and giving Denny some support.
You were once that little girl.
The thought wound through her mind, pulling at memories of watching her father disappear, leaving her with a woman who cared for her but didn’t care about her.
“Tell you what,” she said. “I’m done for the day. I can help you pick out what you might need.”
She could call Emma. She had a young son and her little girl was about six months old by now. She would know what to get. Mia, next door, would have advice, as well, but Evangeline knew she was far too busy with her store and her own family.
Denny shot her such a look of gratitude that, for a moment, Evangeline felt her heart soften toward the guy.
But just
for a moment.
I’m helping him because of Ella, she told herself as she walked back to the store.
It has nothing to do with him. Nothing at all.
* * *
“Deb said she’s about a year and a half,” Denny said, following Evangeline down the grocery store aisle. “And so does her birth certificate.”
The birth certificate with his name on it.
He glanced over at Ella, still trying to absorb the reality of this little girl in his life.
Ella sat in the seat of the grocery cart, her hair a fluff of golden curls, her chubby hands clinging to the handle of the cart. She looked nothing like the happy babies smiling back at him from the variety of food jars, boxes and tins filling the shelves.
He wondered if she knew, on some level, that she had been abandoned. Poor kid.
“If she is, I’m thinking she can eat more solid food,” Evangeline was saying. “At least, that’s what Emma told me.”
Apparently, Emma was—from the way Evangeline was quoting her as they stocked up on food, diapers, wipes, juice and snacks—the resident expert on all things baby.
Emma was also providing them with a car seat that she said she would bring to the grocery store when they were done here. Deb hadn’t left him a car seat when she dropped Ella off, which made him wonder if she’d used one at all. He pushed that thought aside. He didn’t want to dwell on Deb and her poor choices. For now he had to keep his focus on Ella.
Evangeline laid her choices in the buggy and continued down the aisle, the wonky wheel of the cart squeaking as they went.
As he followed, Denny couldn’t help but notice the swing of her hair, the grace of her movements. She was a beautiful woman. Even prettier than the pictures Andy had showed him.
Don’t go there, he reminded himself, thinking of her comments about church when he’d first met her. Being with Lila had taught him to seek someone who shared his faith. Shared his beliefs.
And on top of that, what woman would want to have anything to do with a guy whose life was such a mess?
“I never knew this part of the grocery store even existed,” Denny said, eyeing the endless shelves of baby food, diapers and assorted other paraphernalia that, it seemed, Ella needed, as well.
“So what parts of the grocery store do you shop in? Or don’t you buy groceries?” Evangeline asked, slanting him a puzzled look.
“I heard a piece on the radio that said everything you need is on the outside ring of the store, so that’s where I get what I need. Then a quick trip down the frozen-food aisle and, bam, done.” He emphasized his comment with a fist on an open palm.
Evangeline laughed at that; a breathy sound with a little sigh at the end that caught his heart.
He blamed his reaction to it on basic loneliness and being around an attractive woman.
“And now you’ll have to add this aisle to your shopping repertoire,” Evangeline said, setting a box of what looked like huge tongue depressors into the cart.
Denny sighed. “At least until I figure out what to do.”
“What do you mean?” Evangeline asked, consulting her list, then looking up at him.
Denny spread his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “I don’t know how to take care of this little girl. Not properly. I have my business to run, the ranch to get ready.” He sighed, pushed his hat back on his head and gestured at the slowly filling cart. “And now I have to figure out where to put all this stuff in the apartment.”
“It does seem like a lot of food,” Evangeline agreed as she came to the end of the aisle and turned toward the dairy section.
“So what are we getting now?” Denny asked, pulling his phone out of his pocket to check for messages. There were no notifications on the screen.
Carlos was supposed to have called him to tell him how the job had gone. Denny needed to know so that he could make arrangements to move the truck here to Hartley Creek.
“Milk and yogurt and eggs.” Evangeline held up a list she had compiled, glancing from it to the containers of milk lined up in the dairy case. She reached for a huge jug and dropped it into the cart, plucked a box of mini yogurts off the shelf and a carton of eggs, then, finally, folded the list and put it in her pocket. “I think we’re done.”
“I would think so, too,” Denny said, scratching his head with his forefinger. “I can’t believe one little girl like Ella needs all this stuff.”
“I don’t know anything about babies, so I just have to go with what Emma told me.”
“You never had any younger brothers or sisters you had to take care of?”
“My father obviously never told you I was an only child.” She flashed Denny a tight smile, then turned the cart around.
Once again Denny followed her down the aisle toward the cashiers.
Right. He had forgotten about that.
And she seemed touchy about it, to boot.
He wanted to tell her that having siblings was fun, but it had its responsibilities and moments of hardship. Especially when he’d had to tell his sisters and foster brother that the ranch they had grown up on had to be sold because of his bad decision.
He pushed that memory aside. That was then. This was now. Only, now also included one last souvenir of Lila.
A little girl he’d never known existed until today.
Evangeline laid the stuff on the conveyor belt and chatted up the cashier as she rang the groceries through the till. A young couple waved hello as they walked past, and an older woman stopped to ask her a question about book club.
Denny felt a hint of melancholy as he watched Evangeline’s interactions. At one time he, too, had been part of a community. Had been able to go to town and talk with most anyone.
Now he was running around from job to job, trying to scrabble together enough money to someday settle down again.
He glanced over at Ella, who stared at him with solemn eyes.
He gave her a tentative smile, wondering how in the world he was supposed to untangle this particular knot in his life. Why hadn’t Lila told him?
Would you have believed her?
Probably not.
“We’re done here,” Evangeline said, looking over at Denny as the cashier bagged the groceries.
“Right. Sorry.” He pulled his wallet out and handed a couple of bills to the cashier.
As the cashier gave him the change, Evangeline’s phone beeped. She yanked it out of her purse but then, as she glanced at the screen, she seemed to deflate as if she’d hoped the caller would be someone else.
Andy maybe?
“Emma is waiting for us in the parking lot,” she said.
Denny shoved the change into his pocket and once again followed Evangeline out the door.
When they got near to where Denny’s truck was parked, a woman stepped out of a pickup beside his, waving at them.
“Hey, Evangeline. Over here.”
Emma, Denny presumed. She had long brown hair, dark brown eyes and an infectious grin. Her blue jeans had grass stains on the knees and her white T-shirt had streaks of dirt. Evangeline had mentioned she lived on a ranch, and she obviously did more than just keep house.
“Hey, Emma, great timing,” Evangeline said, pushing the cart toward the truck.
As Evangeline parked the cart, Emma walked around to the other side of her truck. She opened the door and wrestled out a large seat. As she pulled it, a strap got caught and she almost dropped it.
Denny hurried over to help her, earning him a bright smile. “Thanks. I’m guessing you’re Daddy?” Emma asked.
Denny felt a flush warm his neck as he took the car seat from her. “Apparently.”
Emma’s puzzled look bounced from him to Evangeline, looking for more information.
“Emma, can you help Denny p
ut the seat in the back of the car?” was all Evangeline said.
Denny heaved the surprisingly heavy seat into his truck and strapped it down. As he buckled Ella into it, he thought back to when he and Lila were married.
A good friend of his, Lance, had stopped by with his boy. Denny remembered watching Lance buckle the little boy into the car seat parked in the backseat of his friend’s candy-apple-red truck. This was a vehicle Lance had spent hours waxing, polishing and babying. A truck Denny wished he had.
But crumbs from crackers and leftover papers from fast-food meals had littered the backseat of Lance’s pride and joy, and Lance hadn’t seemed to care. His little boy was his pride and joy.
And once again Denny had been envious.
Now he had his own fancy truck that he had scrimped and scraped to purchase. And now it had a car seat in it, as well.
But somehow it wasn’t the same situation.
He straightened, looking at Ella, who was staring back at him, her dark eyes so serious. Her expression so solemn.
“She’s a quiet one,” Emma said with a laugh.
“Yeah. She is.” It didn’t seem natural. He remembered his sisters at this age, laughing and squirming and getting into all kinds of mischief.
He closed the back door on Ella, then helped Evangeline load the last of the groceries into the other side of the truck.
When they were done he turned back to Emma, who stood by her own truck, her arms folded across her T-shirt.
“Thanks so much for the use of the car seat,” Denny said.
“Gotta keep the little munchkin safe,” Emma returned.
“Yeah. That I do.”
He pulled his car keys out of his pocket and opened the door for Evangeline.
She gave him a curious look, then stepped up into the truck, tucking her long, flowing skirt underneath her as he shut the door.
Emma was watching him, a bemused light in her eyes. “I heard you’re leasing Andy’s place,” she said. “My husband, Carter, and I run a ranch up Morrisey Creek. If you ever need help, we’re willing to lend a hand.”
“Thanks. That’s good to know.” Denny blew out a sigh, thinking about the work that lay ahead of him. “I might take you up on that offer.”
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