by Marta Perry
“What else can I do?” she said softly. She felt so helpless. “My car is right outside. Should we take him to the emergency room?”
“Not unless he doesn’t respond to the treatment.” Seth’s eyes met hers, and she saw the fear that darkened them. “He’s had this before, poor little guy. We always have to be on guard when he catches a cold.”
Davy drooped against Seth’s shoulder. He seemed to be responding to the comfort of his father’s arms, his father’s voice. His crying had eased, and the terrible gasping lessened a little.
Her heart felt as if it had been violently wrung and hung out to dry. How was it possible to feel this way over a child she’d just begun to know?
Seth stroked his head. “He’s only half-awake. I need to get some medicine down him before he falls asleep.”
“Can I get it for you?” If only she could do something, anything, to help.
“It’ll be easier for me to get it than to tell you where to look.” He shifted Davy’s position. “Let’s see if he’ll let you hold him while I do that.” He tilted his son’s face up with a gentle hand. “Hey, buddy. Can Julie hold you for a minute while Daddy gets your medicine? Okay?”
Davy’s eyes were half-closed, but he nodded. He held his arms out to Julie.
She took him carefully, afraid that the slightest movement might start him coughing again.
Dear Lord, please protect him. Please make him well. I love him so much that my heart hurts with it.
Davy nuzzled against her, relaxing in her arms as if he’d felt her prayer.
“Here, sit down.” Seth eased her down. “Sorry the accommodations aren’t any better.”
“As long as he’s going to be all right.” She wrapped her arms around Davy and began making gentle circles on his back the way she’d seen Seth do.
“I’ll be back in two minutes.” Seth opened the door and slid through, closing it again. The steam billowed and eddied at the rush of air.
Another cough racked Davy’s small body. She held him close and prayed. Please, Lord. Please, Lord.
“You’re going to be fine, Davy.” She kept her voice soft. “Just fine.”
He stirred against her. “Story,” he whispered. “Tell me story.”
She remembered Lisa snuggled against her in bed. Tell me a story, Julie. Make the bad dreams go away.
Lisa’s favorite popped into her mind. It was probably the only children’s story she knew by heart.
“Once upon a time, there were three little rabbits,” she said softly.
Davy relaxed, his arms going around her neck. She felt his heart beating against her chest, and his breath fluttered against her cheek.
Somehow she managed to go on with the story, in spite of the size of the lump in her throat. She’d promised to make the bad dreams go away for Lisa, but she’d failed.
She wouldn’t fail Lisa’s child. She would do what was best for Davy, no matter the cost to herself.
She’d gotten Peter Rabbit into the garden when she heard Seth’s footsteps on the stairs. She snatched a towel from the rack and used it to shield Davy from the rush of cooler air when he opened the door.
“Better?” Seth knelt next to them, a plastic tube in his hand that contained a red liquid.
“I think so.”
“Story,” Davy said, his voice a little stronger.
Seth’s smile flickered. “Maybe you’d better keep the story going while I get this down him.”
She nodded, anticipating a struggle, remembering how she’d hated having medicine forced down her throat when she was a child.
But Davy opened his mouth like a little bird at Seth’s coaxing, and the medicine went down with only a tiny cough.
“That’s my good boy.” He stroked Davy’s face.
“Rabbit,” Davy murmured. He turned his face into Julie’s blouse and went to sleep between one breath and the next.
“You’ve got the magic touch,” Seth said softly. “He’s sound asleep.”
“Is he going to be all right?” Her heart still hammered at the memory of that terrible cough.
“Listen to him. He’s breathing fine now.” He stroked Davy’s back again. “We’ll keep him in here a few more minutes, and then I can get him back to bed.” He looked at her with a question in his face. “You can get out of this steam bath now, if you want.”
For the first time it occurred to her that her hair straggled wetly around her face and her clothes were soaked, as were Seth’s clothes and Davy’s pajamas.
“I’m fine.” It didn’t matter, as long as Davy was safe. “You’re sure he’s not going to start up again?”
“I don’t think so. I’ll get some dry pajamas on him before I take him back to bed.”
He stood, turning the faucets off. “Maybe we’ve got enough steam in here.”
“You think?” She managed a smile.
He smiled back, his gaze soft when he looked at her. “I know that was scary. I remember how terrified I was the first time. You were great.”
“Only if shaking in my shoes qualifies as great.” She stroked Davy’s damp curls. “Is this one of those things children outgrow, I hope?”
“Probably.” Worry shadowed his eyes. “Some kids who have croup do develop asthma. The pediatrician’s keeping an eye on him for that.”
A cold hand clutched her heart. Lisa had had asthma. Did he know that? Or was that something she should tell him, if only she could?
“Is there a family history of asthma?” She tried not to sound overly interested.
“Not on my side.” He frowned. “Lisa never said anything about any illnesses, and she never had an attack when she was with me.”
She should tell him. But she couldn’t. Her promise to her father tightened like a noose around her neck.
“Okay, let’s see if I can change his pajamas without waking him up.”
Seth knelt next to her, and she realized he had a pair of small pajamas in his hand. He must have brought them when he’d come back with the medicine.
He slid Davy’s damp top off, his hands brushing against her wet blouse, and she wondered if he could feel her heart pounding. She felt as if he could see the thumping right through her skin, her clothes.
Seth looked up, his face very close to hers. His brown eyes darkened as he met her gaze, and it was as if he knew her thoughts.
She struggled to take a breath. She couldn’t kid herself any longer. She couldn’t believe that it was possible to do this without emotional involvement.
She’d fallen in love with Seth, and the only future for that love was heartbreak.
Chapter Eleven
“What’s the matter, bro? You look like you’re letting that paperwork get the better of you.” Ryan leaned in the doorway of the tiny battalion chief’s office, grinning at Seth.
Seth shoved himself back from the paper-covered desk. “Who knew there were this many forms involved in firefighting?”
“Hey, that’s the price of promotion.” Ryan seemed to be enjoying his discomfort.
“All I can say is O’Malley better get back here ASAP. Or he’ll find nasty letters from headquarters about the way his reports are coming in.”
He’d thought O’Malley would be back on duty by the next day, but his virus dragged on, and nobody was predicting how soon he’d be back.
“No word on a replacement?” A little sympathy entered Ryan’s voice.
“Headquarters says there’s nobody available for another couple of days, at least.” He frowned darkly at the desk. “By that time I’ll be buried under a mass of papers with a pen clenched between my teeth. You could always give me a hand, you know.”
Ryan laughed. “Hey, I feel for you, but not that much.” With a casual wave, he walked away.
It figured. Ryan liked the excitement of firefighting, not the dull routine.
Truth time. He’d be making a lot more progress on this stuff if he hadn’t spent half the morning thinking about Julie and what had happened the night b
efore.
He ran his hand through his hair and massaged the back of his neck. He couldn’t erase the images from his mind. He remembered how she’d looked holding Davy. Her green eyes had been dark with worry and fear.
And love. He couldn’t mistake that look. Love for his son. She’d looked at Davy the way Mom did when he was sick. That overwhelming love that made you plead with God to let you be ill instead of him.
He had feelings for Julie. He’d been dancing all around that fact, but he couldn’t any longer.
Love? He looked cautiously at the word. After the way he’d failed Lisa, he’d vowed he wouldn’t look for love again. He’d figured a nice, mutual affection would be a good basis for a marriage.
Now that seemed stupid. He couldn’t skim along on top of the waves when it came to making promises for a lifetime. He’d have to dive into the deep waters for that.
Slow down, take it easy. Stop and look before you leap.
That was good advice. It was how he approached everything in his life. The barriers to a relationship with Julie hadn’t gone away. She still lived a life he didn’t understand, traveling as her work required. She hadn’t given him any indication that she wanted to abandon that.
His duty to his son came first. He couldn’t let Davy get too fond of someone who might walk back out of his life. He had to be careful.
Something rebelled inside him. He’d always been the cautious, steady one. Maybe he didn’t want to be that any longer.
He heard voices out in the kitchen. One voice in particular—a light, feminine voice. Julie.
Without a second thought, he dropped his pen onto the desk and shoved his chair back. He had to see her.
“You just couldn’t stay away.” Ryan slung an arm around Julie’s shoulder and kissed her cheek. “You’re crazy about us, admit it.”
He discovered a strong urge to give his baby brother a fat lip.
Julie shoved Ryan away, smiling. “You’re right, I couldn’t stay away. I had to get a few more pictures of Dave’s handsome face.”
Dave preened, tossing his head as if he had a mane of hair instead of a crew cut. “I’m ready whenever you are.”
Ryan, grinning, gave him a push. “Yeah, that’s likely. Come on, cover boy. There’s a polishing rag downstairs with your name on it.”
They trooped loudly down the steps. He ought to follow them. He shouldn’t stay here alone with Julie.
He crossed the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee he didn’t want just so he’d have an excuse to stand next to her. “Did you get some sleep after all the excitement?”
She nodded. “More importantly, did Davy? How is he this morning?”
“He’s fine. Just has a case of the sniffles, but Mom’s keeping him inside today. When I left, he was trying to build a garage out of blocks for his trains.”
She smiled, some of the worry leaving her eyes. “That’s good news. Last night was so scary.”
“I know.” Without planning it, he found he’d put his hand over hers where it rested on the counter. “In case I haven’t mentioned it, you did great. You handled Davy like an old pro. Sure you don’t have a couple of kids stashed away someplace?”
She shook her head. “Not even one.”
“He really responded to you.” His fingers caressed her hand. “It would be hard not to.”
She looked at him, her eyes as green and mysterious as the sea. “It would be hard not to care.” Her voice went soft. “For Davy.”
“Just Davy?” He couldn’t help the question.
Her pulse fluttered beneath his hand. “I thought we decided it was best to put that on hold for a while.”
“Yeah, I guess we did.” It was hard to rebel against his usual caution when Julie held up that warning sign. “Okay, maybe we’ll stick to your caring for Davy at the moment.”
“That’s probably best.”
“Right.” So why did it feel so wrong?
Julie studied the kitchen table as if it were a fascinating object. “So, did Davy have any more croup episodes during the night?”
“A little coughing now and then, but nothing that even woke him up.” He grinned. “Trust me, I know. I slept on the floor in his room.”
Her gaze met his again, her expression softening. “You’re a good father, Seth Flanagan.”
He shrugged, ridiculously pleased by her praise. “No more than most guys. Any father would do that.”
“Not any father.” A bleak expression swept across her face, and she rubbed her arms as if she were chilled. “Some don’t care that much.”
What made her look that way? He wanted to know, wanted to push past the barricades and see into her heart instead of staying safely on the outside.
“You’re talking about your father, aren’t you?”
He smoothed his fingers over her hand. It was hard to be content with that when what he wanted to do was hold her in his arms and kiss away the trouble that shadowed her face.
“I—” She looked startled, pulling back from him as if to bring her shields into place. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. What was your family like, Julie? Why does thinking about them make you sad?”
She pulled away from him entirely, her face smoothing into a polite mask. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Anger flickered through him. She was shutting him out.
“So you can know all about my family, but I can’t know anything about yours, is that it? I thought we were friends. My mistake.”
Julie stared, appalled, at the mixture of anger and hurt in Seth’s face. She hadn’t meant—
“I’m sorry.” She reached out to him, only able to think that she wanted to mend this breach. “I didn’t intend—”
She stopped. What could she say that wouldn’t give away too much of the truth?
He still stared at her, a frown darkening his usually open, friendly face.
“I apologize,” she said carefully. “I guess it did sound that way. It’s just that my family life wasn’t as happy as yours is.”
His frown eased away, replaced by a look of concern. “I didn’t realize. You never talk about them, but I thought that was just because you were trying to keep things businesslike between us.”
“We’ve gone pretty far from that, haven’t we?” Her thoughts flickered to those moments when she’d felt his lips on hers.
He clasped her hand. “Look, I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”
“I want to talk about it.” To her astonishment, she realized that that was true.
Dangerously so. She wanted to tell Seth everything that was hidden in her heart. But she couldn’t do that. If he knew everything, their friendship would be blasted to oblivion.
“Okay.” He gave her that lopsided smile that made her heart swell. “Sit.” He pulled out a chair. “Have coffee. Talk. That’s what we do around here.”
She sat down, accepting the mug of coffee he handed her. “You’ve had a lot of practice listening to people.”
He considered that, head tilted a little to one side as he sat down next to her. He put his elbows on the table, and his upper arm pressed against hers, all warmth and muscle.
“I guess. Maybe that comes from where I landed in the family. When you’re in the middle, you end up listening to everybody.”
“You were the buffer.”
“That I was.” There was an echo of his father’s faint brogue in the way he said the words. “Now, you wouldn’t be changing the subject, would you?”
She shook her head. She had to tell him a little of it, enough so that he understood, not enough to let him put the pieces together.
“My mother died when I was about Davy’s age. I don’t remember much about her.”
Did that mean that when she’d gone from Davy’s life, he wouldn’t remember her? The thought made her heart ache.
“I’m sorry.” His hand captured hers. “That’s rough. Maybe even harder than Davy’
s situation. He’s always had Mom. You didn’t have a grandmother to stand in?”
“None that were available.” He wouldn’t understand grandparents who didn’t want to be in their grandchildren’s lives.
“So it was just you and your father.”
She nodded. And a battalion of servants, but maybe it was better not to say that.
“I’d think you’d have been close.”
“You’d think that, wouldn’t you? But my father wasn’t really into children.” Her voice tightened. “I’m afraid he saw me as something of a nuisance.”
“You’re anything but that.” His fingers were warm on hers.
She cleared her throat. It would be so easy to relax into the warm sympathy that poured from Seth. So easy, and so dangerous.
“Well, anyway, my father remarried when I was still very young. I suppose he thought I should be provided with a mother.” She stopped, realizing that was what Siobhan had told her Seth intended to do. She felt color rush to her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to sound—”
“Forget it.” His voice deepened. “I already know what an idiot I was, thinking that way. I did have good intentions, but you know where that’s supposed to lead.”
“I’m not sure what my father’s intentions were. I just know that the marriage was a very unhappy one. And I always felt caught in the middle. And unnecessary.”
Trying to protect Lisa. But she couldn’t tell him that.
“No child should ever feel that way. People don’t think about what their quarreling does to a child.”
He’d drawn the obvious conclusion. He probably hadn’t ever experienced the icy silences and cutting remarks that her father and Lisa’s mother had specialized in. A few shouts might have relieved the tension.
She managed a smile. “Well, none of the Flanagans ever felt that way, I’m sure. But your family is tough to live up to, you know that?”
His lips curved. “Please don’t tell them that. They already think they have the right to interfere in my life as much as they want.”
She’d eased past all the things she couldn’t say. Now she just had to wrap this up quickly.