“I’m so sorry.” Laramie shook her head. “What a mess.”
“That’s why I started to backpedal with Gage. By the end of the evening, I couldn’t get into my Uber fast enough.”
“What if you and Gage become a thing? Isn’t that an option? Then you’d have a better chance of getting custody.”
“We aren’t going to ‘become a thing,’ not after the way I blew him off.”
“I don’t know,” Laramie said softly. “I’ve seen the way Gage looks at you.”
Skye shook her head. “We can’t be a couple just so Connor has two parents. That’s crazy.”
Wasn’t it?
Even if McKenna terminated her parental rights, Gerald and Irene weren’t going to give up without a legal battle. What if Gage only wanted her if he could have Connor, too?
“Lots of people marry for convenience,” Laramie said. “Remember all those mail-order bride novels my grandmother loves to read? It sounds romantic to me.”
She glanced down at Connor, who was chugging the last of his bottle, eyelids growing heavy. He was adorable, and she’d learned to care for him and anticipate his needs, and even adapted to his squealing and affection for grabbing her hair. Her heart swelled. She really did love the little guy.
But could she be his mom? Was she ready for that kind of forever commitment?
“I’d better put him to bed.” Skye pushed to her feet and set the bottle on the coffee table. “Are you going to hang out for a minute?”
“No, I have to go. I’m house-sitting for a friend, and their puppy’s been in his crate for more than two hours.” Laramie stood and put on her jacket. “Skye, I really do think Gage cares for you. Regardless of what happens with Connor, I hope you won’t let the allure of Denver or your fears ruin a shot at a potentially wonderful relationship.”
“I’m not letting fear ruin anything,” Skye protested, her tone harsher than she intended.
Hurt flashed in Laramie’s eyes. “Talk to you soon.”
After Laramie left, pulling the door closed behind her, Skye blew out a long breath and carried Connor to his bedroom. She didn’t want to be afraid—afraid of a man trying to control her again, afraid of Connor not having a stable mom or dad, afraid of hurting Gage any more than she already had. Despite all her efforts to be strong and self-sufficient, she felt just as helpless and overwhelmed as ever.
* * *
Was this what he really wanted?
Alone at the Tomlinsons’ kitchen table, Gage’s hand hovered over the green submit icon on his computer screen. He’d just completed his last module for his online training certification. One click would send his exam to the instructor and he’d move another step closer to his goal.
His professional goal anyway. On a personal note, he was pretty much a wreck.
What if becoming a wind energy technician kept him from being a part of Connor’s life? If Connor moved away—especially to Chicago with the Simmonses—accepting a job in Colorado or Wyoming didn’t do him any good. Did keeping his word to Ryan include leading his parents to Connor? Was that genuinely what Ryan wanted? If he did, wouldn’t he have made those arrangements or at the very least, told his parents he had a child?
Gage’s stomach burned at the thought of Gerald and Irene raising Connor. The little guy’s belly laughs and toothy grins, even his feisty side, had worked their way into Gage’s heart. Not seeing him take his first steps or hear his first words seemed unimaginable now.
On the other hand, waiting around and letting other people’s actions dictate his future wasn’t an option, either. McKenna, Ryan’s parents and the justice system might all influence where Connor lived next and who he spent time with. Gage had zero control.
Adrenaline surged as he clicked the icon and submitted his exam.
There. At least he could control that.
He returned to a website he’d searched for earlier—the apartment listings for a community closest to the wind farm in Wyoming. It seemed like a nice small town, not too far from Cheyenne. Rent was reasonable, the building looked new and the amenities were better than what he had access to now. He’d even heard rumors that Alta Vista offered a generous signing bonus to new employees.
But it was more than four hours from Denver and even farther from Merritt’s Crossing. Half a day’s drive—at least—from Skye, which meant they’d rarely see one another if he moved to Wyoming.
Another tab he’d left open on his laptop drew his gaze back to the screen and his stomach clenched. It was a website featuring the Washington Park area in Denver. For a few glorious minutes, he’d entertained the crazy idea that he and Skye might have a second and a third or even a fourth date. His imagination ran ahead, envisioning another meal at an intimate table in one of her favorite restaurants, her long hair spilling over her shoulders and those gorgeous blue eyes riveted on him, her chin resting on her hand. Later, they’d walk and talk some more, fingers entwined and—
He slammed his laptop closed and scrubbed his hand across his face.
All make-believe. He was an idiot to think he’d legitimately had a shot at a meaningful relationship with Skye. She’d made that clear when she’d rushed to her waiting Uber.
Meeting Skye was an unexpected blessing in his singular quest to find Connor. After spending months focused on his grief and guilt, she was like a burst of sunshine breaking through tumultuous storm clouds. Her obvious distrust had only made him want to prove to her that he was trustworthy. That he wouldn’t hurt her.
Instead, she’d wounded him deeply by allowing him to get close, only to push him away. Determined to win her heart, he’d left himself wide-open to her brush-off.
Idiot.
He stood and moved to the sliding glass door and stared out into their backyard, willing the old familiar pain of rejection to go away. Although he’d learned to compartmentalize over the years, Ryan’s passing and now his hurt and confusion over Skye dredged up the same emotions he’d tried to stuff deep down.
Rain pelted the crocuses and daffodils poking up near the concrete patio slab and he pressed his palm to the glass.
Why? Why hadn’t he seen this coming?
Lord, I trust You. I believe Your ways are better than mine. This still doesn’t make any sense, though. Please don’t let this innocent child suffer any more than he already has.
The rain fell harder, and while Gage knew his prayers were heard, he didn’t feel a sense of peace about Connor or Skye. But standing here feeling sorry for himself wouldn’t change anything. Skye and Mrs. Tomlinson were both at the furniture store. They’d finally let him stay with Connor alone. How ironic. Since Connor hadn’t woken from his nap yet, Gage needed to make better use of his time. The Wyoming job was only a possibility if he actually applied.
His brain stubbornly refused to fixate on anything other than Skye, though. He pivoted from the window and padded into the kitchen and poured himself another cup of coffee. While her physical beauty had certainly played a role in his initial attraction, her loyalty to her family had both terrified and wooed him.
Since he’d only known the unpredictable and often-frightening roller coaster that was his mother, the Tomlinsons’ unwavering commitment to one another seemed foreign at first.
Until he caught himself wondering what it might be like if he was at the center of that devotion.
Unexpected emotion welled up and clogged his throat. He swallowed a sip of the hot liquid, nearly scorching his tongue. Good. If his brain could only process one pain impulse at a time, he’d rather focus on his mouth as opposed to his aching heart.
The fleeting glimpses of Skye’s genuine faithfulness to the small number of people she allowed inside her inner circle had made him believe he had somehow earned a place in that circle, too.
And just like every other time he’d put himself out there in a romantic relationship, Skye proved to him
that he couldn’t have been more wrong.
“Da-da.”
Gage froze, coffee mug halfway to his lips, and darted a glance toward the baby monitor on the counter.
“Da-da.”
Again. Stronger this time. Connor’s voice filtered through the speaker. Gage’s pulse sped. That was the closest thing he’d heard to a first word in all the time they’d spent together. He left his mug on the counter and quickly strode to Connor’s room.
When he pushed open the door, Connor stood in his crib, chubby hands gripping the rail.
“Da-da!” Connor pointed at Gage and offered that slobbery grin that made Gage almost melt into a puddle. Warmth flooded his chest. Even if it was a coincidence and Connor had no idea what he was saying, it was a bittersweet moment and one he’d always savor, even if he never heard it again.
“Hey, buddy.” Gage crossed the bedroom and lifted Connor into his arms. “Let me tell you a story about your daddy.”
Chapter Fourteen
Eight days before Easter. Skye tried not to think about her unofficial deadline as she crossed the parking lot, with Connor in her arms wearing sneakers, jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt with a hood he refused to keep on his head.
The blue sky dotted with wispy white clouds arched over the crowd gathering outside of Merritt’s Crossing Community Church for the annual Easter festival. While plenty of snow remained, fresh blades of green grass tinged the wheat-colored lawn now sprinkled with hundreds of plastic eggs. Sunshine bathed the whole scene in a golden glow, yet the breeze still carried a bite. Skye was grateful she’d layered her favorite lavender sweater over a white T-shirt and paired tall brown boots with her skinny jeans.
Gage walked beside her, although he said very little. They’d reverted to their businesslike transactions with one another, and once in a while, she caught a glimpse of the hurt lingering in his eyes when he looked at her. It was better this way—pretending their kiss outside Pizza Etc. and special evening together in Denver had never happened.
He surveyed the people milling about. “Do you know where the babies and toddlers are supposed to go?”
“Over there.” Skye pointed to a sign designating age groups. “There’s a separate egg hunt for kids two and under.”
This felt almost like a family outing. Almost. Could she make a life here? If Gage wanted her? She chased the thought away. Even though McKenna hadn’t contacted her again and the Simmonses’ attorney hadn’t served any papers, Skye still clung to her plans not to stay in Merritt’s Crossing. Besides, he didn’t say that he wanted to be with her. He’d barely said anything at all.
“Let’s get in line. I don’t want him to miss out.” Gage pressed his hand gently against Skye’s back and guided her toward the parents clustered with strollers nearby. Warmth radiated through her at his thoughtful gesture. He wasn’t steering or controlling or commandeering the situation. She felt safe, cared for with Gage at her side. It had been a long time since she’d experienced that sense of security and comfort with a man. She braced for the old familiar worry to close in, but this time it didn’t come. If she was honest, her feelings toward Gage were beginning to outweigh her desire for accepting the promotion. And Laramie’s wise words about not letting fear get in the way of a wonderful relationship had stayed with her. Was Denver truly where she needed to be?
She was reaching into the diaper bag for her phone to take pictures when someone grabbed her arm.
“Skye, she’s here.” Laramie’s voice was breathless.
“What?”
“McKenna. She’s here. I saw her getting out of a car.”
Skye’s stomach plummeted. McKenna was here? With no text or phone call or warning? She looked at Gage. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
“What do you want to do?” he asked.
“Is she—” Skye shifted Connor to her shoulder, as if turning him away might shield him from whatever came next. “Is she with anyone?”
“I don’t think so.” Laramie glanced over her shoulder. “But she’s coming this way.”
Longing for reassurance, or maybe just the comfort of his presence, Skye reached over and wedged one hand in the crook of Gage’s elbow. He glanced down at her, his eyes filled with uncertainty.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said, although his expression revealed he was wrestling with his own doubts.
Skye craned her neck to see around Laramie. Sure enough, McKenna wove her way among the people gathering on the lawn, slowing occasionally to speak to someone. All the while her eyes scanned the crowd. As she moved closer, Skye surveyed her appearance, as if some outward sign of her addiction would confirm or deny her worthiness to be a mother. It was dumb and insensitive, but Skye couldn’t help it. She needed to know it was safe for Connor to see McKenna.
In jeans with a ripped knee, cowboy boots and a flowery tunic layered under a denim jacket, she looked like a typical twentysomething female at a small-town festival. When she looked up and met Skye’s gaze, her steps faltered.
“Hey.” McKenna’s brown eyes flitted from Skye to Gage and then landed on Connor. Surprise flashed across her features, and then her mouth formed a wobbly smile. “I’m back.”
“I see that.” Skye choked out the words. “What are you doing here?”
“Skye.” Laramie’s voice was tinged with warning.
McKenna’s gaze narrowed. “I came for my son.”
Connor whined and twisted in Skye’s arms, as if to see what the delay was all about. He regarded McKenna with a wide-eyed stare.
“Hey, cutie pie.” McKenna stretched out her arms. “Come see Mama.”
“Wait. Think of the baby. He hasn’t seen you in months.” Skye angled her body away from McKenna, desperate to reason with her. “Please, don’t do this.”
“He’s mine. I’ve come all this way like you asked me to, so why won’t you let me have my son?”
“Because we’re not confident you can handle him,” Gage said, his voice low.
McKenna stared at him. “I remember you—you’re Ryan’s friend.” She smirked. “How nice of you to step up and play pretend baby daddy.”
Skye sucked in a breath. Her legs trembled, and spots peppered her vision. Even though she’d hoped for weeks that McKenna would come back, so much had changed. She loved Connor like her own, and now she didn’t want McKenna to take him.
“McKenna, please.” Laramie stepped between them and placed a hand on McKenna’s arm. “Why don’t we take Connor to the egg hunt—all of us together—and then we can meet afterward and try to work this out?”
“Let go of me.” McKenna pulled from her grasp. “I don’t need your help, either. Just give me my kid.”
“We only want what’s best for you and Connor,” Laramie said softly.
“You have no right to keep him from me.”
“You’re right, we don’t.” Hot tears pricked her eyes as Skye handed Connor to McKenna.
His face crumpled, and he began to cry.
“Do you want his car seat?” Skye swallowed hard against the lump clogging her throat and glanced down at the diaper bag. “Do you have diapers and wipes?”
“Where are you staying?” Laramie asked.
“I’ve got a place. You don’t have to worry.” She smiled at Connor and shushed him, awkwardly bouncing him up and down.
He twisted in her embrace and stretched his arms toward Skye.
Her heart cleaved in two. This couldn’t be happening.
“You don’t really expect us to just let you drive off with a baby, do you?” Gage’s voice held a hard edge.
Skye bit her lip, desperate to hold herself together for Connor’s sake. She glanced at Gage. He’d straightened to his full, very imposing height and wore a granitelike expression, while his icy gaze bored into McKenna.
McKenna shifted the very distraught Connor to her other shou
lder and tipped her chin defiantly. “He’s mine. You can’t stop me.”
“What happens when he won’t stop crying? When you blow all your cash on booze and don’t have any left for food? Do you even know what he eats?” Gage raised his voice, hands clenched at his sides, drawing curious glances from the onlookers forming a half circle around them in the parking lot.
“Gage.” Skye touched his arm with her hand. “Settle down.”
“You can’t tell me what to do with my own kid.” McKenna’s eyes glittered. “Thanks for everything, Skye. Don’t worry, I’ve got this.”
“How about an attorney? Do you have one of those retained, too?” Gage growled.
“Stop,” Skye said.
McKenna pushed through the crowd and strode toward a small economical car parked at the edge of the lot. Connor’s wailing rose above the buzz of conversation.
Skye whirled and faced Gage, tears streaming from her eyes. “You shouldn’t have confronted her.”
“Really?” Gage stared at her in disbelief. “You’re blaming me for this?”
“You’re the one who yelled at her.”
“Because you just stood there and let her take Connor. What else was I supposed to do? Stand back and do nothing while you tried to reason with her?”
“It’s better than yelling.”
“No. It’s not.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “You can’t reason with an addict.”
“She’s recovered.” Skye swiped at her cheeks with the cuff of her sleeve.
“How do you know?” Gage’s chest heaved, his fists still clenched at his sides. “Did you even ask her if she’d completed her rehab? What if she stole that car?”
Skye wanted to throw up. She just shrugged helplessly. “Trying to talk some sense into her is better than yelling.”
“Let me ask you this—all those years you and your family spent trying to talk some sense into her.” He quoted the air with his fingers. “Did it work? Maybe if you-all weren’t so loyal to one another, things might be different. But now she’s leaving, with a baby who has no idea who she is, and we don’t have a clue where she’s headed.”
Their Baby Blessing Page 15