“Exactly my point. Meghan, you need me now.”
Her brow wrinkled with impatience. “Seth, you may be able to do a lot of things, but you can’t make chicken pox miraculously disappear,” she scoffed.
“No, but what I can do is keep Kirk here with me while you go to work.”
“No, that’s just not a good idea.”
Seth saw her arms tighten around Kirk, who’d finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. Anger swept through him. “Why isn’t it a good idea?” he asked curtly. “Do you think I’m not capable of caring for him? Are you afraid somehow I’ll hurt him?”
“Of course not,” she replied and looked away from him. The frown across her forehead deepened and she stood. “He’s sleeping now. I’m going to put him in bed.”
Seth watched her go, knew she was attempting to escape the conversation, but he didn’t intend to allow her to escape. He’d come here seeking her help, and for the last three days he’d felt useless, without purpose.
But now he felt as if he’d been handed a mission…to care take for his son, the son he knew now he would never be able to walk away from. He and Meghan would never again be a couple, but Seth would always be a father.
However, he knew this particular argument would have to wait for another day, another time. He’d fight this first battle before he took on the entire war.
He stood and paced the room, waiting for her to return to the living room. When she finally came back, she held her shoulders defensively straight and he knew she intended to go to battle.
She walked over to the bookcase and straightened a row of paperbacks, obviously gathering her thoughts or waiting for him to speak first.
He didn’t. He watched her and waited.
She finally turned to face him, a weary expression on her face. “Seth, I don’t want to fight.”
“Then don’t fight me on this,” he countered. He stepped toward her, reached out and took her hands in his. “Let me do this, Meghan.” She tried to pull her hands from his, but he held tight. “Let me do it for you…for myself.”
“Seth, please…” She pulled her hands again, and this time he released them.
Seth sighed in frustration. “There are only seven more days until the Christmas holiday. Seven days, Meghan. Let me take care of him. We’re not talking about forever here…just seven days.” They’d talk about forever later, he promised himself. “Hopefully by then, you’ll have the information I need and I’ll be out of here.”
She chewed her bottom lip and threaded several fingers through her hair. “All right,” she finally relented. “We’ll try it for tomorrow. But you might find a sick little boy is far more difficult to handle than any assignment SPEAR could ever give you.”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” Seth said, a thrill surging through him as he thought of spending quality time with his son.
At that moment, as if to protest Seth’s words of confidence, Kirk cried.
He fussed off and on all night long. Seth heard Meghan up and down several times before he went into the nursery to offer to take over.
“No, I’m fine,” Meghan said. She sat in the rocking chair in Kirk’s room, rocking back and forth with Kirk in her arms. “You’d better save your strength for tomorrow.”
Seth had left the room, but had lingered in the hallway, listening to the squeak of the rocking chair and Meghan’s sweet voice humming a lullaby to Kirk.
Reluctantly, Seth had gone back to his room.
At dawn he got out of bed and put the coffee on, eager for his day with Kirk to begin. By six-thirty, Meghan entered the kitchen with Kirk in her arms.
Although she was already dressed and ready for work, she looked exhausted. “I changed his diaper, but left him in his pajamas,” she said as she put him in his high chair. His face was spotty, but he offered Seth a smile.
“It’s still early,” Seth said. “Sit down and have a cup of coffee.”
She shook her head. “I need to get in early…before Mark gets there. I’ll grab coffee at work.” She grabbed a slip of paper from one of the drawers, then dug a pen from her purse. “Here’s my number at work.” She scribbled a number, then handed him the slip of paper. “Call me if there are any problems.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Make sure you keep him changed, and if he gets too fussy, you might try a lukewarm bath.” She pointed to a small bottle on the counter. “There’s a fever-reducing medicine you can give him every four hours.”
“I’m sure we’ll be fine,” he assured her. He got up from the table and walked with her to the front door. “Don’t worry,” he said.
She turned at the door, a sardonic smile twisting her lips. “Worry is what mothers do best.”
He placed his hands on her shoulders and fought the impulse to pull her against his chest, let her lean against him. “For today, this mother doesn’t have to worry. We’ll be fine here.”
She nodded and without a backward glance, flew out the door. At that moment Kirk wailed from the kitchen.
“Don’t worry.”
Seth’s words rang in Meghan’s ears as she drove to her office. How could she help but worry? Her son was sick with chicken pox and she’d left him in the care of a man she hadn’t wanted in his life.
She should have kicked Seth off her front porch the moment he’d arrived. She should have never agreed to help him, never allowed him even a toehold in their lives. She had a feeling after today, he’d not only have a toe in the door, he’d have his entire foot.
With every minute of every day that had passed, she’d seen the bonding going on with Kirk and Seth, saw the immense love that sparked in Seth’s eyes each time his gaze landed on his son. He was not going to walk away as he’d promised.
No matter how quickly she found him the information about Simon, it wouldn’t be quick enough to stop the inevitable change that would now occur in her life. And Meghan dreaded this particular change.
If Seth refused to leave Kirk’s life, then he would forever be in hers. Not as a husband, not as a lover, but as Kirk’s father. She would have to see him, talk to him, share custody of Kirk with him, and not let her heart be touched.
As she got out of her car, the residual snow beneath her feet crackled with ice that had reformed during the night. There would be no further melting today. The wind whistled straight from the north and bit at exposed skin.
Once inside the office, she shrugged out of her coat, quickly made a pot of coffee, then booted up her computer. She checked her wristwatch, then poured herself a cup of the fresh brew and sat down at her desk. It was just after seven. If she were lucky, she’d get an hour or so in working to find signs of Simon and his drug cache before Mark came into work for the day.
Taking a sip of her coffee, she began the search.
“Are you bucking for a bonus?”
Meghan squeaked in surprise and guiltily hit the button that instantly blanked her screen. “Mark! I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Obviously.” He took off his coat, his gaze narrowed on her in speculation. “You’re in terribly early again.” He hung his coat on the wooden coat tree, his gaze not leaving her. “If I remember right, you came in real early last Friday, too.”
“Did I?” Meghan forced a light laugh and got up to get another cup of coffee. “I’ve just been getting up and around earlier I guess.”
The sudden, shrill ring of the phone startled her. She dropped the cup. The ceramic shattered, spewing coffee all over the floor.
As Mark grabbed the phone, she quickly cleaned up her mess. She relaxed somewhat as she realized the caller apparently wasn’t Seth. When she straightened, she found Mark’s gaze on her once again.
“Is everything all right, Meghan?” he asked, a faint shadow of suspicion in his eyes.
“Of course it is,” she instantly replied, fighting back a growing wall of guilt and a sudden desire to cry.
Of course everything is fine. I’m harboring a SPEAR fugitive in my house, searching files I don’t belong in to help
him. He’s watching my son who has chicken pox and if I’m not careful, I think I could fall in love with him all over again.
“Is there anything you need to talk about?” Mark pressed.
Meghan’s heart thundered in her chest. Did Mark suspect she was hiding something? Had he somehow guessed that Seth was at her house? “Is something on your mind, Mark?” she countered, forcing herself to look him square in the eye.
He held her gaze for a long moment, then shrugged. “Nope, guess not. You just seem a little edgy this morning. And I noticed you seemed sort of uptight the other day, as well.”
Meghan poured herself a fresh cup of coffee, then turned back to look at Mark. “It’s Kirk. He has the chicken pox.”
The stress that had lined Mark’s forehead instantly dissipated. “Why didn’t you say something?” he said, obviously relieved by her reply. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sprawled in the chair at his desk. “So, how is the little tyke?”
“Spotty and cranky.” Relief flooded through Meghan. “I came in early this morning thinking maybe I can scoot out of here early this afternoon.”
“Sure, I don’t see why not.” Again there was a whisper of suspicion in Mark’s eyes. “Of course, it’s going to be kind of hard to get your work done if you keep your computer screen blanked out all the time.”
A nervous giggle escaped Meghan. “Oh…I was just…playing solitaire.” The lie sounded lame, but it was the only thing she could come up with. She’d never been very good at subterfuge.
Mark took a sip of his coffee and she felt his gaze studying her as she pulled up her work for the day. “Meghan, you aren’t having any financial problems, are you?”
She looked at him in surprise. “No…why?”
“Just curious.” He took a sip of his coffee. “If you were having problems…any sort of problems, you know you can talk to me, right?”
“Sure,” she agreed hesitantly. He nodded, as if satisfied he’d said what was needed and Meghan focused her attention on her computer screen.
It wasn’t until a few minutes later she realized what Mark was worried about. The questions about her finances, the suspicion in his eyes.
Terrific, she thought irritably. Her co-worker suspected she was either spying for another government agency…or selling out to foreign interests. In any case, he suspected her of being a traitor. Could life possibly get any more complicated?
Chapter 9
As soon as Meghan left, Seth turned up the heat in the house, grateful when warm air suffused the rooms. The woman had no blood, he thought as he raced back into the kitchen, where Kirk awaited him.
Seth scrambled eggs for Kirk as Meghan had done the morning before. Only unlike the morning before, this morning Kirk refused to eat.
He mashed the eggs between his fingers, then rubbed them in his hair. He slid them across the tray and dropped little pieces of them from his plate to the floor.
Seth watched helplessly, unsure whether to remove the eggs from his high chair tray or leave them and hope that some of the breakfast would accidentally manage to get into Kirk’s mouth. It wasn’t until Kirk began throwing the eggs at Seth that Seth called an end to breakfast.
“Okay buddy, that’s it,” he said as he lifted Kirk out of the high chair. Kirk laid his head against Seth’s chest and despite the eggs’ mess that smashed against Seth’s shirt, an explosion of love burst in his heart.
He ached for all the time he’d already missed with Kirk. The first moment of birth, of his first smile…the first word…the first step. So many momentous firsts already missed and never to be recaptured.
But still plenty more to come and as Kirk smiled up at Seth, Seth realized there was no way in hell he could walk away from this child…his child.
He carried Kirk into the bathroom where he did his best to scrub away all traces of the breakfast not eaten. Kirk fought his efforts. “No,” he said and shoved at the washcloth. “No, no.” Kirk pushed against Seth, displaying a show of surprising strength.
Seth ignored his protests and finished the task, although pride soared inside him. He liked that his son already had a mind of his own and didn’t seem reluctant to express it.
However, his pride lasted only a little while, concern replacing it. As the morning wore on, Kirk fussed almost continuously. He was warm with fever and obviously uncomfortable. But it was too soon to give him more fever-reducing medicine.
Seth dragged half the toys from the bedroom into the living room floor in an effort to entertain him. Seth built with the blocks, contorted his face into funny expressions, he did everything but stand on his head in an attempt to make Kirk happy. And when all else failed, he did stand on his head, the actions producing the first giggle of the day from the sick little boy.
However, the giggle lasted only a moment, then Kirk began to fuss again…a monotonous wail without tears that ripped at Seth’s heart.
He considered calling Meghan to see if she had any advice on what he should do to ease Kirk’s obvious discomfort, but instantly dismissed the idea. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he couldn’t take care of his own son…. sick or not.
Still, he’d faced the devil a thousand times in his work, had suffered a gunshot wound that had nearly killed him, but nothing had prepared him for how to make a sick little boy feel better.
The doorbell rang near lunchtime. Seth went to the door and peered out the peephole, relieved to see Rose Columbus standing on the porch.
“Rose,” he greeted her eagerly, wondering if she heard the desperation in his voice. “Please, come in.”
“Tough morning?” she asked, a wry grin on her face. She reached up and picked a glob of scrambled eggs out of his hair.
He grinned sheepishly. “I’m baby-sitting Kirk for Meghan today.”
She nodded and swept past him. “That’s why I’m here. I saw Meghan leave earlier without Kirk and knew you must have pulled baby-sitting duty. How is that poor baby doing this morning?” She shrugged out of her coat and threw it on the sofa and placed a paper sack she’d carried in next to it.
She went to where Kirk was seated on the floor amid a jumble of toys and scooped him up in her arms.
“Poor little boy,” she said as she eyed the spots that dotted his face. “I brought some oatmeal bath that should help soothe his skin.”
“Oatmeal? Does he eat it or bathe in it?”
Rose laughed. “It’s not like real oatmeal, but it’s good for soothing an itch.”
“Great,” Seth exclaimed, then frowned as he thought of bathing such a tiny creature.
Rose seemed to read his mind. “How about I give him a quick bath while you fix him some lunch?”
“Sounds perfect,” Seth said with relief. “The bathroom is down the hallway. Towels are in the closet. Help yourself to whatever you need.”
“We’ll be fine,” Rose assured him. She grabbed the sack she’d brought with her, then disappeared down the hallway.
Seth went into the kitchen and prepared a small platter of sandwiches, then set the table for himself and Rose. He had a feeling an invitation to lunch would not be turned down by the old woman. And it was the least he could offer in return for her help.
A few minutes later she came into the kitchen, carrying a freshly bathed Kirk in a clean pair of pajamas. Kirk offered Seth a weary smile.
“I think the bath helped make him more comfortable. Maybe once he eats his lunch, he’ll take a nice nap for you,” she said as she placed him in his high chair.
“You’ll join us for lunch? It isn’t exactly gourmet, just ham and cheese and tuna salad sandwiches.” Seth handed Kirk a quarter of a sandwich, then gestured Rose to a chair.
“I’d rather eat tuna salad with somebody than steak or lobster by myself,” Rose said as she sat at the table.
“You’re a widow, right?” Seth asked.
Rose nodded. “I lost my Albert three years ago. We would have been married fifty years next month.” For a moment Rose’s broad
face glowed with the warmth of memories…the memories that Seth knew came with years of loving somebody, of sharing one another’s lives.
As Seth poured them each a soft drink, he remembered that he’d once looked forward to spending years with Meghan…had wanted to watch silvery highlights slowly etch into the strands of her hair, see the lines around her eyes deepen with shared life experience. He’d once wanted to grow old with her.
“Forty-seven years.” Seth joined her at the table. “That’s quite a long time. You were both very lucky.”
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Rose scoffed and grabbed one of the tuna sandwiches. “Marriage is darn hard work and it has to be worked every day just like any other job if it’s going to be successful.”
She tore off a piece of her sandwich and handed it to Kirk. “So many people nowadays don’t work at their relationships. Did you work at your marriage, Seth?”
“I put in a hundred and twenty percent, but it wasn’t enough for my ex-wife.”
Rose shook her head. “Too bad. So, are you planning on staying here through Christmas?” she asked, changing the subject as she grabbed another half of a sandwich from the platter.
Seth shrugged. “Meghan and I agreed that I should stay and watch Kirk for the rest of the week while she’s at work.”
Seth had a feeling that after the next seven days, whether she’d gained the information he sought or not, he’d be out of here. But he would not leave here without some sort of agreement concerning Kirk. He was Kirk’s father, and no matter Meghan’s objections, he intended to be a father in every sense of the word.
Rose chewed her sandwich thoughtfully for a long moment. “Are you going to tell me who you really are?”
Seth widened his eyes in surprise. “Wha…what do you mean?”
“You didn’t really think I’d swallow that cousin story did you?” She eyed him with a touch of disgust. “Tangled family tree, indeed.”
“Why don’t you believe it?” Seth countered.
“Because cousins don’t look at each other the way you and Meghan do.”
Strangers When We Married Page 10