by Kristy Tate
Sophie watched as Mia and Paige fluttered around Luke. A number of people Sophie didn’t know also approached Luke to hug him or shake his hand. You would think he was royalty, she thought, rather than the guy who bailed on his nephew after his brother’s death.
I’m here now. Luke’s words cut into her thoughts. But was he really? If he couldn’t be responsible six months ago, there wasn’t any guarantee that he could be responsible now. As Lauren always said, the way you do anything is the way you do everything, and past behavior is the best predictor of future behavior. Right now she trusted Luke Mason about as far as she could throw him. And seeing as how he outweighed her by about a hundred pounds, she doubted she’d even be able to lift him an inch. But maybe she could kick him.
He returned with two plates of food.
“Here, let me take Jamie,” Mia said, swooping in and pulling the baby from Sophie’s arms.
Jamison, who was more awake now, didn’t even flinch when Mia balanced him on her hip.
“You are the cutest thing,” Mia crooned.
As Sophie watched Mia walk away with Jamison, she felt her world slipping away from her. Again.
A cheer went up in the other room. Sophie twisted around to see what was going on and was surprised to see an elderly gentleman dragging an extension ladder into the room.
“No one’s going to tell me I’m too old,” he said with a swagger.
That must be Uncle Theo, Sophie thought. Dressed in brown slacks, a red plaid flannel shirt, and work boots, he looked about as old as dirt. He wore a black knit hat that made his hair stand out like horns poking out of the sides of his head.
“I’m going to string me up some Christmas lights!” he announced.
Some people cheered while a few murmured dissents.
“It’s not even December yet!” Lola scoffed.
“Doesn’t matter, I’m stringing ‘em!”
“He’s a fool,” Lola said as soon as her husband stomped out of the room. “Luke! You better go make sure he doesn’t kill himself.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Luke said, grinning. He trotted after his uncle.
Sophie nibbled on her sandwich, watched Mia and Jamison out of the corner of her eye, and tried to disguise her jealousy. Jamison clung to Mia’s shirt and seemed happy enough. Sophie longed to rip him out of the girl’s arms and carry him home. But to what? Here was a large family who could love him. She had only a half-trained puppy.
The puppy! He would need her to let him out. She stood, determined to tell Mia and Luke that she and Jamison needed to go home and rescue Atticus. But where had Mia gone? Sophie wandered through the dining room and into the kitchen. She didn’t find Mia, but she did find a trash can for her paper plate. Through the window, she spotted Luke and Mia along with a small crowd of people standing beside the metal legs of an extension ladder.
Sophie pushed through the back door, headed across the porch, and tripped down the stairs. She gasped in pain as her ankle turned.
CHAPTER THREE
Luke caught her and set her on her feet.
She winced as pain shot up her leg. A lump the size of an egg had already formed on her ankle.
“You’re hurt,” Luke said.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said through gritted teeth.
“It’s probably a sprain,” he said as he scooped her up into his arms as easily as he would Jamison. “They can hurt worse than a fracture. We’ll need to get it looked at.”
The crowd gathered around Uncle Theo’s ladder turned their attention to her. She flushed beneath all of their stares. Paige glared at her.
“Please put me down,” she hissed at Luke, uncomfortably aware of his body heat and afraid that everyone in his family could see her reaction to him.
He just shook his head and carried her up the porch steps and through the kitchen, and gently set her down on the sofa. He slipped off her shoe. The lump on her ankle had already doubled in size.
Sophie battled tears brought on by not only pain, but also helplessness. How could she take care of a baby and a puppy with a twisted ankle?
Luke knelt beside her and propped her foot onto the sofa. “We need to get you to a doctor.”
“It’s Sunday,” she told him.
“The emergency room is open.”
She shook her head. “It’s too expensive. But we can probably see Aidan. He has an X-ray machine.”
Luke scowled and looked as if he wanted to argue, but after a moment he nodded and pulled out his phone. “Do you have his number?”
She told him the number and waited while he dialed. Then she held out her hand. “Let me talk to him.”
#
“It’s a sprain,” Aidan confirmed as he ran his hands over Sophie’s legs. “A pretty bad one. You’ll need to stay off of it for probably at least a week.”
“A week!” Sophie wailed. “But it’s almost Christmas. I’ve a ton of things to do.”
“Like what?” Luke asked.
“Get a Christmas tree, take Jamison to meet Santa, help at the toy drive.”
“I can do all those things,” Luke said.
“I can help,” Aidan put in.
Luke pulled in a deep breath and tried to tamp down his frustration. The sooner he got Sophie home, the better. Sitting on the examination table built for small animals, she didn’t look any more comfortable than he felt. Although he had to admit that was probably for different reasons.
“And these will help, too,” Aidan said, going to a cupboard and pulling out a small bottle of painkillers.
Sophie read the label. “If I can’t drive or handle machinery, how am I supposed to care for a baby and a puppy?”
“I’ll take care of the puppy,” Aidan said.
“And I’ll take care of Jamie,” Luke said.
Sophie let out a shuddering breath.
Luke slipped an arm around her shoulders and another beneath her knees. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“Where’s Jamison now?” Aidan asked.
“My sister has him,” Luke told him. “She’s bringing him to Sophie’s house.” He glanced at his watch. “She’s probably there now. She needs to head back to school.”
Aidan looked as if he wanted to protest as Luke carried Sophie out the door of the vet’s office, but he just stood at the window and watched Luke place Sophie in the front seat of his SUV.
“I can’t let you take Jamison,” she told Luke as soon as he settled in behind the wheel.
He leveled a glance at her. “So what do you suggest? Because, to be honest, my barn is barely habitable. I’m pretty much camping there.” He waited, and a thick silence formed between them. “This is where you invite me to stay at your house so I can take care of Jamison.”
“I don’t think that’s a good plan!” Her cheeks flamed pink and her eyes turned bright.
“Do you have a better one?”
“I’ll think of one.”
“How often does Jamie wake up during the night? How will you get him a bottle? I assume his crib is upstairs.”
She nodded.
“So how will you get him up and down the stairs?”
“Maybe Liz knows someone from the church I can hire…”
“You’d rather have a stranger move into your house and care for your nephew than let me do it?”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a terrible person.” Her lip trembled and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Luke swallowed hard, put the SUV in gear and rolled down Main Street. “I don’t think you’re a terrible person. Anything but. You’ve been amazing these past few months. Right now, I can think of very few people I admire more than you. You’ve been incredible with Jamie. But I want to help. Please, let me help you.” He glanced at her when they stopped at a street light.
She bit her lip. “Okay, I guess you can stay in the downstairs guestroom. I use it as my office, but there’s also a bed in there.”
Luke revved the engine and pointed the SUV to the Jordan River Highway. He didn’t want to argue with her, but she had to realize that she was the one who needed to be downstairs. “How many bedrooms are upstairs?”
“There’s three, but one was Chloe’s studio.” She paused for a long moment. “I haven’t cleaned it out yet.”
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “That’s understandable.”
“I’ve been meaning to…”
“I get it.”
“Do you?” Her voice broke. “Chloe was all I had. I know you lost Matt, but you still have Mia, your aunt and uncle and bunches of cousins.”
Luke thought about mentioning her dad and stepmother, but decided against it when he saw the glistening tears on her cheeks.
“You’re not alone, Sophie,” he said softly.
She sniffed.
“Listen, if you really feel uncomfortable with my staying with you, I can call Liz and see if we can make other arrangements…”
“No, you’re right. It’s just…”
He wanted to hold her and make the promises that six months ago he wouldn’t have been able to keep. “The next few days will be hard, but we’ll get through it.” He shot her another quick glance. “But you’ll have to let me sleep upstairs.” He poked her thigh with his finger. “You need to be downstairs.”
She swallowed. “You’re probably right.”
“Now, what do you want for dinner? Should we stop at the store and pick something up?”
#
It felt wrong to be sitting on the sofa with her leg propped up on a pillow while Luke and Paige puttered around her kitchen.
Mia sat on the rug beside Jamison. Although Sophie had only had Atticus for a day, she already felt his absence.
“Luke’s a great cook,” Mia told Sophie. “You won’t be hungry while he stays with you.”
Paige stomped into the dining room carrying a salad. After placing it on the table, she shoved a pair of tongs into it.
“I guess Paige is ready to head back?” Sophie asked when the blonde disappeared into the kitchen.
“It makes sense for us to eat first,” Mia said before she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Her knickers are twisted, because she doesn’t want Luke to stay with you.”
“It’s not like that. There’s nothing between me and Luke.”
“Yeah, but there’s not much between her and Luke either… That’s what’s twisting.”
“You can tell her she doesn’t need to worry. Did you know that the first time Luke met me he called me a sofa?”
Mia laughed long and hard.
“To be fair, I was a lot heavier in high school.”
“Still, that had to hurt.”
“Back then, everything hurt.”
Mia climbed to her feet. “Is it true, Luke? Did you really call Sophie a sofa?”
Luke emerged from the kitchen carrying a large pot of tomato basil soup. Paige trailed after him with a roll of French bread on a platter.
“She wasn’t supposed to hear me,” Luke said. “I was a kid. And stupid.”
“Well, no one would call you a sofa now,” Mia said.
“What happened? Did you go to Weight Watchers or something?” Paige asked.
“No. My mother died.”
“Was she a good cook?” Paige asked.
“It was stress induced. I also lost a lot of my hair.”
Paige pressed her lips together.
“It was really hard on me, too, when my grandmother died,” Mia said.
“I don’t want to talk about people dying anymore,” Paige said. “It gives me the creeps.” She plopped down in a chair at the table and watched Luke with narrowed eyes while he ladled up a bowl of soup, placed a fat slice of bread on a plate, and dished up a large serving of salad. “Are you trying to return her to sofa status?” Paige asked as Luke carried the plate to Sophie.
He dropped to one knee before Sophie and held out the plate and bowl to her. “Will you ever forgive me for calling you a sofa? It was mean, and I was young and dumb.”
“Will I still get the food if I say no?” Sophie asked.
“Yes, but I really hope you’ll say yes, too.”
Sophie scooted to a more upright position before taking the food from Luke. “I’ll have to think about it.”
She tried not to feel left out while the others, including Jamison, sat around the dining room table eating. Even after telling herself that she ate alone ninety percent of the time, the feeling of exclusion still wouldn’t go away. The painkillers she’d taken earlier combined with the warm meal made her heavy and lethargic. The conversation in the dining room centered around people she didn’t know, and after a few spoonfuls of the delicious soup, she gave in to sleep.
#
With his sister and her friend gone, the house turned eerily quiet. While Sophie slept on the sofa, Jamie gazed at him with big blue eyes and gnawed on a piece of bread.
Now what? He really wanted to wake Sophie and ask her for instructions, but she looked so beautiful and peaceful, he couldn’t do it. Her phone lay on the coffee table and it gave him an idea. He carried it and Jamie into the kitchen.
“Liz,” he said when she answered. “It’s me, Luke Mason.”
“Luke? Why are you calling me on Sophie’s phone?”
He explained the situation. “And now she’s asleep and I don’t know what to do with Jamie.”
“Do you want me to come over?”
“No! I don’t want her to know—or to think—I can’t handle this.” He paused. “Just tell me what to do.”
“Has Jamie had his bath?”
“Bath?”
“Then bottle and bed.”
“Bath, bottle, bed,” he repeated.
“Can you find the bottles?”
He opened cupboards and drawers until he found the bottles, nipples, and formula. “Hey,” he said. “The formula has instructions!”
Liz laughed. “Oh yeah, she always reads him Goodnight Moon and sings to him before she puts him down.”
“Sings to him?” he echoed. “Like what?”
“I don’t know its name, something about pretty horses.”
“Ah...I don’t know that one.”
Everything he didn’t know about taking care of a child sat heavy on his mind and shoulders as he carried Jamie upstairs for his bath.
#
Sophie woke to the sound of running water and peals of laughter. She ran her tongue over her teeth, hating the dry horrible taste in her mouth. Pushing herself up, she winced in pain when she tried to move her leg. Clenching her jaw, she moved through the pain, and hopped on one foot to the bottom of the stairs. Then, using the wall as a brace, she slowly made her way up the flight of stairs.
Lavender-scented steam rolled out of the bathroom. Luke knelt beside the old-fashioned claw-footed tub. He’d taken off his shirt and had bubbles up to his elbows. Jamison, covered in froth, looked like a white-haired Santa Claus. The baby pounded his fists into the bubbles and laughed as he splashed Luke in the face.
Sophie leaned against the doorjamb, watching.
Luke must have felt her presence, because he turned her way. “Hey,” he said. “You’re not supposed to be up here.”
“I need my pajamas and toothbrush,” she told him.
“I would have gotten them for you.”
“There are some things a girl likes to do for herself.” The thought of Luke going through her pajama drawer sent waves of panic through her.
Jamison squealed as he again splashed Luke.
“That’s it,” Luke said, his voice thick with laughter. “Bath time is over.” He put Jamison on his hip, soaking the waistband of his pants, and pulled a towel off the rack.
“He likes the ducky towel.” Sophie reached around him and tugged a white hooded towel with a large orange beak sewn onto it out of the cupboard.
“Did he tell you that?” Luke asked, taking the towel from her hand and rubbing the baby dr
y.
“You’re doing it wrong,” she told him and she showed him how the towel fit around Jamison’s small wet body. “Want me to take him?”
“No. You can barely stand on one foot. I got this.”
“Do you know where his diapers are?”
“Huh, no.”
Wordlessly, she jumped on one foot into Jamison’s room and pulled a clean diaper out of a basket and handed it to Luke. “Pajamas are in the top drawer.”
She started to say something when he pulled out a blue cotton onesie, but stopped herself.
“What?” he asked. “He doesn’t like these pajamas?”
“It’s not important.”
“No, tell me.”
“Well, it’s just I’d dress him in something warmer.”
He nodded. “Good point.”
She watched in silence as the half-naked Luke dressed Jamison.
“Maybe now that you’re here, you could sing the pony song,” he said.
“It’s the horse song,” she said. “And did he tell you about that?”
“No. Liz. She’s been coaching me.”
“She coached me, too, at first.”
He shot her a surprised glance. “I’m surprised you needed coaching.”
“Of course. I don’t know how to be a mom.”
“I would never guess that. You make it look easy.”
“Well, it’s not. Not at all.”
“I believe you,” he said as he placed Jamison in the crib.
Jamison began to howl.
“I’ll stay with him while you get him a bottle,” Sophie said.
Luke slapped his forehead. “Of course! The bottle.”
“He likes it warm, but not too warm,” she told him as she limped into the room to stand by Jamison’s crib. She patted the baby on the back, wishing she could pick him up to comfort him while Luke headed for the kitchen.
#
Luke took his time making the bottle, enjoying the sound of Sophie’s song floating through the floorboards. She didn’t have a classical soprano, but he found her voice entrancing. Slowly, he made his way upstairs. As he’d feared, she ended the song as soon as he entered the room. She sat in an old-fashioned oak rocker with Jamie curled under her breast.
Jamie held out his hands as soon as he saw Luke. For a breathtaking moment, Luke thought the baby was asking for him, but then he realized Jamie only wanted his bottle.