“Tell me about it,” Jewel said, folding her arms across her ribs but still not looking at him. She sucked in a deep breath, then finally shifted her gaze to his. “I’m sure I can find someplace to stay, Silas. I mean, I appreciate the offer and all, but I’d never in a million years want you to feel uncomfortable. A night or two, that’s one thing. But two weeks having a stranger in your house is asking a lot—”
The scream made them both jump. Like a flash, Silas was down the hall, Jewel right behind him, Doughboy lumbering along at the rear.
“I didn’t do anything, I swear!” Ollie said, sobbing, rushing his father and clamping his leg. “Tad was just playing and all of a sudden he tripped and hit his head on the table, it wasn’t even that hard, and then there was all this blood!”
Blood? That, she could handle. The look in Silas’s eyes, not so much.
You’d think, with all the times Silas had seen, worn and wiped up his sons’ blood over the last six years, he’d be inured to it by now. You’d be wrong. You’d also think a woman who got all emotional as easily as Jewel would fall apart at the amount of the red stuff oozing from Tad’s forehead.
Wrong, again.
“Come here, baby,” she said, calmly gathering the freaked, bloody little boy in her arms and steering him into the bathroom, where she hauled him up on the sink, grabbed a washcloth and carefully pressed it to the wound.
“I should be doing that,” Silas belatedly called out over his other son’s wails, which got him a “No, we’re good, Ollie needs you,” in reply.
“Blood doesn’t bother you?”
“I’m studying to be a midwife, what do you think? Not to mention I was an ER nurse for six months…it’s okay, sugar,” she said to the other wailing child, “it’s hardly more than a nick. Daddy? You got any butterfly bandages?”
“A lifetime supply. In the medicine cabinet.”
“Is h-h-he okay?” Ollie managed between sobs.
“Oh, sure, baby—” She shot a smile in their direction. “There’s just lots of blood vessels up there, so it looks a lot worse than it is. In fact, it’s nearly stopped already.”
As had the tears. From that corner, at least. Still. “Maybe we should take him to the ER, just to be sure,” Silas said. “Head wounds are nothing to mess around with.”
“True. But honestly, it’s not that serious. Lord, if we’d trekked to the ER every time my stepbrother knocked himself in the head we’d’ve never left. Doesn’t even look like it needs stitches. Come see for yourself.”
Peeling his older son from his chest, Silas poked his head into the bathroom where Tad perched on the sink, swinging his legs and grinning. And true, the cut was so tiny you could barely see it between the scars from previous encounters with objects harder than his head.
“You feel dizzy?”
“Uh-uh,” Tad said, shaking that head.
“Any trouble seeing?”
“I’m okay, swear. What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”
Smirking, Jewel slid her eyes to Silas’s. “Do whatever you think best. But instead of sitting in the ER for three hours we may as well have dinner here and keep an eye on him. Or I can call Naomi, if you want…?”
Only doctor in probably three states who still did house calls. However… “No, that’s okay. She…” He cleared his throat. “She’s never actually said, but I can tell she thinks I—”
“Overreact?”
“You can stop smiling anytime.”
She giggled. Only for some reason the sound didn’t grate nearly as much as Silas expected. Especially when she laid her hand on his arm and those soft, sweet eyes grazed his and she said, “At least your kids will always know you care.”
And if that wasn’t bad enough, then she got the boys—his boys—to eat pork that wasn’t bacon. With onions. And apricots. Okay, so you could barely see the broccoli for the cheese sauce, but damned if that didn’t disappear down their gullets—and not the dog’s, Silas kept an eagle eye out to be sure—as well.
Of course, she did tell Ollie the planted broccoli spear in the rice was cute…but moments later, when a second spear appeared to keep the first one company, and Silas said, “Don’t even think about it,” and Ollie gave Silas his “testing” look and said, “Jewel thinks it’s funny!” she immediately said, “What Daddy says goes, honey. Always.”
“Then how come we got to play Secret City?” Tad piped up, and Ollie went, “Aww!” and Jewel flushed and said, “Pay no attention to him, that’s the head wound talking,” and Silas decided maybe losing some control wouldn’t be such a bad thing.
Maybe.
Dinner over, the boys stampeded into the living room, Ollie grabbing the remote to find Nickelodeon, Tad flopping on the floor to use Doughboy as a pillow.
One eyebrow raised, Jewel turned to Silas. “You let them watch TV?”
“A half hour a day,” Silas said, waving her aside when she tried to clear the table, wanting her gone. Wanting her to stay forever. Wanting to make an appointment to have his head examined.
Cocking hers, she listened for a moment, then snorted. “SpongeBob? Whoa. Subversive. Oh, shoot…where’s my phone?”
Spotting the shimmying, hot pink, cutting-edge number on the counter, Silas felt the oddest sensation of…annoyance. Partly at the cutesy ringtone, but more because…because it was like being interrupted by an uninvited guest.
“Over here,” he said, stacking the dishes by the sink.
“Thanks.” Jewel zipped over and plucked off it the butcher block counter, said, “Uh-huh…uh-huh…be right there,” then slipped it into a back pocket so tightly molded to her butt he had no earthly idea how she could fit a credit card in there, let alone a phone.
“It’s Winnie Black,” she said, her face all lit up, then vanished. For whatever reason, Silas followed her into the hall to watch her hustle to the front door to grab her purse and jacket. “Water broke, went right into hard labor—” struggling into the jacket, she yanked her ponytail out of the collar “—and it’s her third birth, so I doubt it’ll take too long.”
“And you’re telling me this why?”
Her hand already on the door knob, she gave him that What Planet Are You From? look. “Because I don’t want you to worry about me getting here on time tomorrow? Hey, guys! I’m leaving! Come give me hugs!”
Didn’t have to ask them twice. No small feat considering their undying devotion to all things SpongeBob. Both kids rushed over to nearly strangle her with hugs and kisses. For barely twenty seconds, mind, but the point was not lost on Silas.
Who, in the void left by her absence after her departure, found himself almost kinda wishing she’d given him one of those hugs, too.
Which point was not lost on him, either.
Chapter Five
Exhilarated.
That was the only word for it, Jewel thought as she and Patrice stood on the Blacks’ front porch an hour after Jewel caught Winnie’s seven-pounds-and-change baby girl. Behind them the wind sighed through the sixty-foot pine trees standing guard over the modern wood and glass structure tucked into the mountainside. And farther back, Aidan Black’s studio where the Irishman captured, on enormous canvases, the majestic kaleidoscope of light and color that made up the landscape that Jewel, too, had grown to love so much.
“Couldn’t’ve done it better myself,” Patrice said, the yellow porch light skimming her high cheekbones and cropped silvery hair. Her broad grin. “Nobody could’ve told that was your first catch, missy. I’m proud of you.”
Grinning herself, Jewel snuggled more tightly into her jacket and leaned against the porch railing. They’d go back inside shortly, but Patrice felt it was important to give the new family time to bond by themselves. “You might’ve given me warning, though, that you’d planned on turning over the reins.”
“And have you fretting your head off beforehand? No damn way.”
“I wouldn’t have—” At Patrice’s low chuckle, Jewel laughed, too. “Okay, I would’ve
been a wreck, you’re right. But what made you decide it was time I flew solo?”
“Couldn’t really say. Same way I know when a baby’s ready to come, I suppose. Even when the physical signs don’t always agree with my intuition. You learn to feel these things, you know?”
Jewel released a breath. “Not like you do.”
“Which is why you’re the apprentice and I’m the boss,” Patrice said, and Jewel smiled. “But I have no doubt whatsoever you will. I can tell already, could tell from the first time you attended a birth with me, you’ve got…I guess you could call it a gift, for listening and seeing with more than your eyes and ears.”
Her face warming, Jewel looked away. “You’re gonna give me a swelled head.”
“You? Not a chance. So. How’d your first day go with the Garrett boys?”
“Fine,” she said, her face heating even more at the memory of the conflicted looks Silas kept giving her. At the even more conflicted feelings those looks provoked inside her. Hormones Gone Wild were one thing; those, she understood. Ka-BOOM, however, was something else entirely. And far, far scarier.
Then she remembered a certain unresolved issue. “You know anyplace I can stay for a week or two?”
“Why? Eli throw you out?”
“No, no…the house needs some major repairs, that’s all. And the consensus is it’d be best if I vacate the premises ’til they’re done. I don’t suppose you and Lucy…?”
“Trust me, honey, you’d never get a wink of sleep on that sorry excuse for a couch. I slept out there when Lucy had that cold a couple of weeks ago and my back still hasn’t forgiven me. I mean, if you can’t find anything else, you’re welcome to it. But I swear a bed of nails would be more comfortable.”
“Believe it or not, it’s tempting.”
“And why is that?”
“Silas said I could have the pull-out in his office, but only if—” Jewel made quote signs in the air “—‘worse came to worst’.”
“And the subtext there is…?”
Speaking of hearing with more than her ears—nobody was better at that than Patrice. Even so, Jewel hesitated. Perhaps because her mother had always been the needy one, Jewel had long since learned to solve her own problems. That she even saw this as a “problem,” however, was more of an eye-opener than she expected. That Ka-BOOM business and all. But maybe part of growing up was learning when to ask for help. Or at least, a fresh perspective.
“You ever find yourself attracted to somebody you know is no good for you?”
“Heh. Name me a human being who hasn’t. Why? Oh…Silas?” When Jewel nodded, Patrice went, “I see. So what makes you think he’s no good for you?”
“Oh, Lord…” Jewel leaned her elbows on the porch railing, only to smile when Winnie’s border collie Annabelle nuzzled her hip for a scratch. “Where do I start?” she said, tangling her fingers in Annabelle’s soft fur. “And anyway, it’s more that we’re not good for each other, if you know what I mean.”
“Enlighten me.”
Except when she opened her mouth…nothing.
“Yeah, that makes it clear,” Patrice said, chuckling.
“Cut it out, I’m serious. Maybe I can’t put it into words, but…but I know in my gut what I’m feeling…it’s just not right. Dammit, Patty—I’m not like this! I don’t hanker after things I can’t have.”
“And what makes you think you can’t ‘have’ Silas?”
Jewel remembered how he’d looked at her over the dinner table, when he thought she didn’t see, and thought, Okay, maybe not the right word choice. “It’s no secret he’s been resisting relationships since his divorce, so it’s pretty obvious it really wrecked him. But it’s been two years…” Her mouth pressed together, she wagged her head. “You ask me, all he’s doing is hanging on to that safety net because it’s what he’s used to. Not what he really thinks anymore.”
“Okay. And?”
“And…so…I think—even if he doesn’t know it yet?—he’s actually ready to take another shot. But no way is he gonna make the same mistake he did the first time around. Especially because of the boys.”
“Makes sense. But I’m still not getting—”
“Only, see,” Jewel said, straightening, “I sure as heck wouldn’t be the right person for him, even if I was looking to get married—which I’m totally not because I’m trying to, you know, figure out who I am and all—because what the heck do I know about how to keep a marriage going? I mean, it’s not like I’ve got any experience in that department!” She slapped her hand over her mouth, only to immediately lower it and whisper, “Did I really say that?”
“You really did.” Smiling slightly, Patrice crossed her arms and leaned against the porch railing. “You do realize the only way to figure out how to make a relationship work is to just get in there and do it, right? Like catching babies—”
“And how many births did I have to observe before you felt I was ready to deliver a baby myself? And even so you were right there to cover my butt. Oh, Patty…it’s not like I don’t believe in good marriages—I see ’em, I know they exist. But not up close and personal. I have no earthly clue how those marriages work. How any marriage works. And I couldn’t bear—”
“What?”
She looked at the other midwife. “I’ve seen way too many times the toll a failed relationship takes on all parties involved. I was only a baby when my father left, but twice after that I’ve helped my mother pick up the pieces, and each time she’s more fragile than she was before. And to some extent I see the same hurt in Silas’s eyes. That same ‘why’? He probably doesn’t even know it’s there, but it is.”
Patrice stared at her hard for a few seconds, then said, “Not that you don’t have a valid point, but for heaven’s sake, honey…talk about getting ahead of yourself. People get the hots for each other all the time. Doesn’t mean they have to act on it. Or even if they do, doesn’t mean it has to be more than what it is.”
“And it’s not like I don’t know all that!”
“Then what’s the problem?” A smile played around the older woman’s mouth. “You think you’re too weak to share quarters with the man without caving?”
Jewel forced a dry laugh. “Bingo?”
Patrice gave Jewel’s arm a quick squeeze, then leaned back again, her hands shoved into her cargo pants’ pockets. “Lord, you think things to death probably more than anybody I’ve ever met. But for what it’s worth, I don’t think you will.”
“You don’t think I will, what?”
“Cave.”
“Really?”
“Not without giving yourself permission, no.”
“You’re not helping.”
“That’s ’cause you’re a lot more fun to torment than my last apprentice. But I will say one thing—you want to shore yourself up so you don’t cave, you might want to think about why you’re looking into the man’s eyes long enough to see whatever it is you think you see in there. Just a thought. Now,” she said, pushing herself upright, “how’s about we go check on mama and baby so we can maybe get home at a reasonably decent hour?”
Jewel managed to smooth out her crumpled forehead before going back into the Blacks’ bedroom, where Winnie lay in the four-poster bed nursing her new baby girl, Aidan curled behind her. On the floor at the foot of their bed, their preteen son Robbie showed two-year-old Seamus how to run toy cars along the designs of the red, black and gray Navajo rug. For the first time that Jewel could remember since she’d started her apprenticeship, a weird, not-good, feeling shuddered through her, like when you think you might be getting sick but you’re not sure.
She thought maybe it was called doubt. Not about her conviction that she wasn’t meant to marry. God, no. But up until now she’d been perfectly at peace with that. Suddenly, though, something almost acidic seemed to nibble at the edges of that peace.
Something almost like…anger.
However, the minute Winnie looked up at her with her big, bright smile, the fe
eling passed, so quickly Jewel half thought she’d only imagined it. For her sanity, she was going with that. Because a momentary icky feeling about whether or not she was happy, for lack of a better word, didn’t change anything, did it?
As for getting wigged out about the prospect of living in Silas’s house…that was just dumb. She wasn’t her mother, she’d never in her life gone all weak in the knees over a man—heck, she’d never even gone through a boy-crazy stage when she’d hit puberty—so why on earth should she go down that road now?
Ka-BOOMS notwithstanding.
After arranging to check on Winnie and the baby the next day, Jewel said her goodnights and returned to her car, fully intending to take off right away. Instead, she sat behind the wheel for what seemed like forever, a soup of thoughts swirling in her brain, until one eventually bobbed to the surface: That her mother’s emotions, her libido—heck, her very existence—had always seemed to be something almost apart from her, acting completely on their own and leading their owner around by the nose.
Not Jewel, though. No way, no how. No, she couldn’t control the outside stuff—like, say, leaking roofs—but she sure as heck could control how she reacted to them. How she reacted to, say, obviously lonely men with longing—and pain, no sirree, let’s not forget the pain—in their eyes.
So. She could choose to be weak, or strong.
To be in control of her body, or let her body control her.
To sleep in her car for two weeks, or put her big girl panties on and accept Silas’s sofa bed offer. However grudgingly it had been given.
Right, then, she thought, finally backing out of the Blacks’ driveway. You can do this.
Soon as she unearthed her copy of Loin-Girding for Dummies.
“So whaddya think about a Facebook page for the business?” Jesse, the “baby” Garrett brother said, half reclining in front of the office computer, his hands linked behind his shaved head. “It’s free and takes like five minutes to set up. Couldn’t hurt, right?”
Adding Up to Marriage Page 7