by Ally Blake
“I know that, and they will, too. Once Darcy’s had her checkup, I’ll meet you. How about—the cafeteria downstairs?”
“Okay.”
Elli was aware of Dr. McKinnon waiting for Wyatt and wished for some privacy so they could talk without being overheard. “Unless you’d rather I went with you.” Elli doubted Wyatt was prepared for what he’d see in the psychiatric ward. “It’s good she’s admitted, but it’s not an easy place to visit, especially the first time.”
“Knowing you’re caring for Darcy is all I need,” he responded, his gaze sliding away from her. “I’ll find you once I’ve spoken to her.”
He looked so uncomfortable her heart went out to him. She stood, Darcy resting along her shoulder, and went to stand in front of him. He was desperately trying to do the right thing, and he hadn’t seen his half sister in years. These were hardly optimum circumstances for a reunion.
Damn the doctor and whatever scuttlebutt was filtering through the unit. Elli didn’t care anymore. She lifted her free hand and touched his cheek lightly. “It will be fine,” she murmured. “Darcy’s safe and Barbara is in good hands.”
He placed his hand over hers, sandwiching it between his palm and his cheek. It was warm there and soft, with only a slight prickle of stubble from his jaw. “Why are you being so helpful, Ellison? This is not your problem.” He closed his eyes for a few moments as he inhaled and exhaled slowly.
“Because I can see you’re trying to do the right thing and at great personal sacrifice.”
Without saying another word, he turned her palm, pressed a quick kiss into it. His lips were warm and firm in contrast to the stubble on his chin. Emotions rushed through her at the tender gesture, so sweet and so unexpected.
He cleared his throat and squared his shoulders. “The cafeteria,” he reminded her, and without another word left the curtained area.
Elli pressed her hand to her lips, shocked at the intimate touch, flustered, and … my word. She was pleased.
This wouldn’t do. Wyatt was only reacting to the situation. He had said it himself. He was thanking her for helping, that was all. Everyone’s emotions were running high. She couldn’t read too much into it.
She struggled to remember that he’d never had any interest in getting to know her before Darcy had come on the scene. They’d been neighbors for two months and had crossed paths only once. And yes, maybe they were getting to know each other better, but she also knew that if they’d met elsewhere—on the street, in a shop—his head wouldn’t have been turned. Heck, he’d shouted at her the first day they’d met. She was still carrying around an extra ten pounds she’d put on during her pregnancy, and her looks were what she’d consider strictly average. The caress meant little when she put it in perspective.
She took a moment to change Darcy’s diaper, slightly more comfortable with the task than yesterday as she dealt with sticky tabs and squirming, pudgy legs. In less time than she might have imagined, Darcy was dressed and happy. Elli took out a rattle and smiled as the baby shook it in her tiny fist.
The curtain parted once more and Dr. Singh entered. He saw Elli and his face relaxed into a pleased expression. Then his gaze dropped to Darcy, kicking and cooing on the white sheets of the bed.
There was a flash of consternation on his face and Elli felt a sickening thud in the pit of her stomach. She’d conveniently forgotten why she’d avoided coming to the hospital over the past few months. Now she remembered. She hadn’t wanted to have to deal with explanations and platitudes. Carrie was one thing; they’d been close friends. But every other person she knew in this hospital saw her as Elli who had married a doctor, carried his child, lost it, lost her marriage and finally her job. Poor Elli.
“I understand this is our missing Baby Paulsen.” He covered the momentary awkwardness with a smile.
“Yes. Her name is Darcy.”
“You brought her in?” He went to the bed and watched Darcy for a moment while Elli looked on anxiously.
“Yes and no. Darcy has been with Barbara Paulsen’s brother, and he’s a friend of mine. I’ve been giving him a hand.”
“He must be a very good friend.”
“A friend in need is a friend indeed,” she quoted, trying to make light of it. She knew how it would look if she admitted they’d only truly become “friends” yesterday. But looking at the outside of a situation was rarely like looking at it from the inside, so she kept her mouth shut.
Elli waited while Dr. Singh gave Darcy a thorough check. He turned to her and smiled. “She’s perfectly healthy,” the doctor stated.
Elli stared into Dr. Singh’s chocolate eyes, surprised at the concern she saw there. Was there something wrong with Darcy he hadn’t wanted to say?
Dr. Singh sat on the edge of the bed and rested his hands on his white coat. “This isn’t about Darcy,” he said quietly. “It’s about you, Elli. I want to know how you’re doing since William’s death.”
His quiet concern ripped at her insides at the same time as it was comforting. People didn’t know what to say to her—she got that. But no one asked how she was, or spoke William’s name. Even today—it was the first time she’d been able to say his name without her voice catching. To everyone else he was always called “the baby,” as if he’d never been named. As if keeping him nameless would make it somehow easier. It wasn’t.
“I’m doing okay. Better now.” She was happy to realize it was true.
“How did you end up caring for Darcy?”
“Wyatt didn’t know what to do,” she said, trying to lighten things by giving a light laugh. “Of course, neither did I, really, but I was conveniently just next door.” She smiled then, genuinely. “Tell me, Dr. Singh, how can a person resist an adorable face like that?” She motioned toward Darcy, who seemed intent on the rattle clenched in her tiny fist. The pieces clacked together as she shook her pudgy hand. Only, Elli knew it wasn’t just Darcy’s adorable face that counted. Wyatt’s was becoming more of a pleasure each time they were together.
Dr. Singh smiled. “You can’t. I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. I know you must be grieving still.”
Elli swallowed, but was surprised that the tears she expected were nowhere to be found. When was the last time before today that she’d thought of William without crying? She was getting stronger. “I am grieving, of course. But it’s different now, and I think helping care for Darcy is good for me. I can’t always wish for what will never be. I have to look forward rather than backward.”
“Good.” Dr. Singh put his hands on his knees and boosted himself up. “I am glad to hear it. It is good to see some roses in your cheeks, Ellison.”
The roses bloomed pinker than before, because Elli knew it was Wyatt and his caress that had put them there. And she didn’t want to start having feelings for him. She was finally just starting to get a handle on her emotions. The last thing she needed was to get mixed up with someone again. To rebound.
Maybe she should just look upon this time as a lovely gift. For the first time in months she felt alive.
“Thank you, Dr. Singh. Wyatt will be involved with social services because I know he wants to look after Darcy until Barbara can again. Would it be okay if he listed you as her pediatrician?”
“By all means.”
Elli gathered her things. “It was good to see you, Doctor.”
“And you.” He smiled, then left the room with a flap of his white coat.
Now at loose ends, Elli realized she hadn’t eaten all day. When there was no sign of Wyatt in the cafeteria, she hefted the car seat and made her way to the coffee chain near the west doors. A steamed milk and a muffin would do the trick, she thought. Carrying the paper bag and car seat while balancing a hot drink took more dexterity than she’d expected, and she went slowly back to the cafeteria, where she could at least sit down and wait.
When she returned to the entrance of the cafeteria, she came face-to-face with Wyatt. It took only two strides of his long legs before he caught up to h
er. “Where have you been?” He whispered it, but there was a hard edge to the words, so very different than the last time he’d spoken to her.
“I just went to buy a steamed milk,” she explained, feeling the color drain from her face at his thunderous expression.
“Your timing stinks.” He ground out the words.
“Is there a problem?” A woman’s voice came from beyond Wyatt’s shoulder and Elli closed her eyes. She’d disappeared with Darcy at the same time Wyatt had come to find her with …
“Ellison Marchuk, this is Gloria Hawkins from Child and Family Services.”
Elli handed Wyatt the hot cup, her appetite lost. “Ms. Hawkins,” she said quietly, adjusting Darcy’s weight and holding out a hand.
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS PAST DARK BY the time they arrived home again, and on the drive Wyatt had taken the time to cool down. Now he stared around his house with new eyes. In the space of little more than a day his whole life had changed. This run-down bungalow and farm had been enough for him. He’d bought it seeing the potential, and he had lots of time to fix it up the way he wanted. Or so he’d thought.
But this was a bachelor’s house, sparsely decorated and functional. He had to make it a home, somewhere welcoming and comfortable rather than a simple place to lay his head. There was more at stake. It needed to be a place for family. No matter what happened, he had family now.
Elli was in the kitchen, cooking some sort of chicken dish for dinner. Already he could see small changes in the house, and it put him off balance. His desk was tidy—pens in a can she’d unearthed from somewhere. She’d gone through and straightened what things he had, giving the house a sense of order that seemed foreign. He shouldn’t feel as if Elli was taking over—he knew that. She was going above and beyond with helping. But somehow he did. As though the house wasn’t his anymore.
Darcy was watching from her spot in the car seat, her dark eyes following Elli’s every move from stovetop to counter. Wyatt stood at the doorway, nursing a beer, fighting the false sense of domesticity. It was all temporary, not real. Darcy was not his child, and Elli was not his wife. It was a short-term situation. Before long things would go back to normal.
He couldn’t deny he’d had flashes of attraction over the past day and a half, but he wasn’t truly interested in Elli. Elli didn’t care for him either, he knew. Anything that had happened so far was because of the extraordinary position they were in. When everything settled, they’d each go back to their own lives. He got the feeling that she was too much of a city girl to want the isolated life in the country for long. He couldn’t get used to seeing her here. Darcy, on the other hand, was his niece. As things played out, he knew he wanted to have a home where she and Barbara could come to visit as often as they liked.
His mom would have wanted that. She would have wanted him to accept Barbara and make her welcome. Despite her difficult life, he didn’t know anyone with as generous a heart as his mother.
But for now, this was reality, until Barbara was well enough to look after her daughter. There was work to do to make this a family home. He’d promised it to the caseworker at the hospital. He’d been so nervous, afraid she would take Darcy away into foster care anyway. And he’d growled at Elli for not being there right away. She had done nothing wrong. Instead Elli had been calm, and she had been the one who had carried the meeting. She’d been composed and articulate and reassuring when Wyatt had been scared to death. He wouldn’t let that happen again.
“Do you like squash?”
Elli’s voice interrupted his thoughts and he straightened. “Yeah, I guess.”
“You guess?” She finished wiping a spoon and put it down on the counter. Her blue eyes questioned him innocently, but he knew there was little of innocence in his thoughts. Lord, but she was beautiful. Not in a flashy way either. At first her looks seemed ordinary. But they grew on a man—the glowing complexion, the blond streaks in her hair. The way her clothes seemed to hug her curves and how those curves caught his eye. Most of all, it was her eyes. Elli wasn’t his woman, but those eyes got him every time.
He’d looked into them earlier today and had forgotten himself. That caress in the E.R. had been a mistake, brought on by her understanding and the fact that she was simply there for him. He’d felt it again when he’d tried to explain to the caseworker why keeping Darcy was so important to him, while still protecting himself. He’d fumbled the words, but Elli had put her hand on his arm and smiled at him.
“My mom used to bake squash in the oven,” he said, coming forward and putting his empty beer bottle beside the sink.
Elli smiled, her face a sea of peace and contentment. She looked so at home, so … happy. He wondered how it could be so when he’d dragged her into this situation, turning her life upside down as well as his.
“I can do that,” she answered. “As soon as I find a baking dish.”
He found her a proper pan and put it on the counter. “You like to cook,” he stated, starting to relax. His version of cooking consisted of baked potatoes and frying a steak.
“I do,” she answered, still smiling. She took a small squash and quartered it, scooped out the middle and slathered the orange surface with a paste of brown sugar and butter. She slid it into the oven beside the chicken in mere seconds. “My mom taught me how to cook when I was just a girl. It was one of the things we did together. I make a wicked cabbage roll. Though I’ve never quite mastered the technique of her perogies. She makes them from scratch and they’re the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”
Wyatt leaned back against the counter and nudged Darcy’s hand with his finger. The baby grabbed it and batted her hand up and down while Wyatt smiled. He liked her—when she wasn’t crying. A baby’s needs were uncomplicated and he liked that. Food, a dry bottom and love, he supposed. A simple love, a warm place to cuddle into and feel safe.
At that moment he missed his mother with an intensity that shocked him. It had been five years, but now and again the grief seemed to come from nowhere. His finger stopped moving with Darcy’s and he swallowed.
“Wyatt?”
Elli was watching him curiously. “Are you okay? You look funny all of a sudden.”
He shook off the sadness. What had come over him? He never indulged in sentimentality. Maybe it was Elli. She reminded him of his mother, he supposed. His mom had been the one to make their house a home when he was growing up, and he realized Elli was doing the same thing now with him, and Darcy.
“I was just remembering my mom,” he replied carefully. “You remind me of her, you know. She was always cooking and smiling. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”
Her smile faded and a tiny wrinkle formed between her brows. “I remind you of your mother?”
Apparently that wasn’t what she had expected to hear. Belatedly he realized that most women wouldn’t find that an attractive comparison. He stumbled over trying to find the right words to explain. “Only in the very best ways, Elli. She was the one who made our house a home. You’re doing the same thing for Darcy and me without even realizing it.”
Damn it, was that pain on her face? What had he said that was wrong? He was trying to pay her a compliment and it was coming out all wrong. “I’m sorry if I said something to upset you.”
“You didn’t,” she murmured, but she wouldn’t look him in the eye anymore.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He couldn’t believe he was asking. But he’d heard snatches of whispered conversations today. There was more to Elli, and he found himself curious. The people at the hospital where she’d worked knew. But she’d said nothing to him about why her marriage had failed. And the bits he’d heard left him with more questions than concrete information.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she insisted, moving back to stir something on the stove. But he knew. She was covering. He’d done it a thousand times himself.
“How did Barbara seem to you? You never said.” She still had her back turn
ed to him, but there was a slight wobble on the word said. He had touched a nerve. A part of him wanted to pursue it and another part told him to leave it alone. If she’d wanted to talk, she wouldn’t have changed the subject.
But he wasn’t sure how to proceed. Talking about Barbara was a loaded topic, too. The moment he’d entered the hospital room Barbara had started crying and apologizing. Her doctor had gone with him, and Wyatt had let her take the lead. Calm but compassionate. Problem was, Wyatt had never seen himself as a very compassionate man.
So Barbara had cried and he’d held her awkwardly. She’d apologized and he’d tried to say what he thought were the right words—that the most important thing right now was for her to get well. He’d insisted that Darcy was well taken care of.
“Seeing her was odd. She was like the Barbara I remembered, and yet she wasn’t. There was an energy about her that wasn’t quite right.”
Elli nodded. “Her perspective is so skewed right now, and she’s afraid. When I worked in the E.R.—”
She halted, but Wyatt wanted to know. She’d worked at the very desk where he’d checked in today. How had today affected Elli? It had been so hectic he hadn’t asked.
“When you worked in the E.R.,” he prodded.
“I was just going to say we saw lots of mentally ill patients. People who for one reason or another couldn’t cope. That Barbara could recognize that in herself, that she checked herself in …” Elli met his gaze. “It was a brave thing to do. Certainly nothing to judge her for.”
“Did I judge her?” He straightened in surprise. He hadn’t, had he? Had he judged or simply been concerned?
“No, but I did. The moment I saw her note and saw Darcy. I’m sorry about that.”
She turned back to the stove. Wyatt stared at her back for a few moments before stepping forward and simply putting a hand on her shoulder.
“So did I. I asked myself how a mother could do that to a child. Today I realized how much courage it took for her to do what she did.”
“Thank you,” Elli whispered.