by Terri Osburn
By five thirty, Noah had the grill fired up and ready to go. The steaks wouldn’t take long, so he planned to put them on once Carrie and Molly arrived, but the potatoes were wrapped and cooking away. At five forty-five, his guests had yet to show up. The silver Cobalt occupied her driveway, so he assumed she was over there. Ten minutes later, he debated knocking on her door. At six, he started replaying their conversation in his mind. She had agreed to come over. In fact, she’d set the time.
So where was she?
At six fifteen, he knocked. No answer. Another knock, louder this time, and a baby’s cry came from inside. Damn. Did he wake her? Was that why they were late? The crying grew louder until the inside door flew open. Carrie held the tearful baby on her hip and squinted against the brightness flooding the dim interior.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice groggy and one side of her hair shoved up at a weird angle. “What do you need?”
“You said you’d be over at five thirty,” he answered, wondering if he’d imagined the night before. “That was forty-five minutes ago.”
Carrie spun to check the clock on the wall. “Oh my gosh. I fell asleep nearly three hours ago. I can’t believe I didn’t wake up.”
Noah noticed a dark spot near the bottom of her shirt. “I think the baby might have sprung a leak.”
Following his gaze, she lifted the little girl away from her body. “Oh, Molly, honey, you’re soaked.” She took two steps into the house before turning back. “I’m sorry. Give me fifteen minutes, okay? I need to get us both cleaned up.”
“Take all the time you need,” he said. “Or we can do this another night. It’s no big deal.”
“No no,” she yelled as she disappeared around a corner. “Tonight is good. Fifteen minutes. Twenty tops.”
“Like I said, take your time.” Not sure if she could even hear him, he raised his voice. “I’ll see you in a bit.”
“We’ll be there,” came the response.
Stepping back, he realized she’d probably forgotten the door was open, so Noah pulled it shut before crossing back to his own house. Remembering the potatoes, he took them off the grill, sliding them into the kitchen oven and setting the dial to one hundred degrees to keep them warm. He’d planned to toast the bread while cooking the steaks, neither of which would take more than five or six minutes, which left him nothing to do but wait.
Waiting sucked.
Few civilians realized how much waiting soldiers did while deployed to the desert. Waiting to move from point A to point B. Waiting for orders. Waiting for something to blow and shatter the silence. Noah doubted there would ever again be a time when quiet didn’t unnerve him. The quiet was just the calm before the storm.
He found more of the same upon returning home. Hours spent pacing a waiting room while the VA docs debated what to do with him. Days of lingering by the phone, unable to move on with his life until they gave him answers. And then months of following the protocol laid out in endless pamphlets and forms only to end up no different than when he’d started.
Elbow deep in a project or a book was the only time Noah managed to relax. When his brain had something to focus on other than what might be coming around the next corner or buried under the next rock, he could pretend the demons weren’t there.
Turning on the stereo, he snagged a pile of mail he’d been ignoring off the coffee table and settled on the couch. The stack consisted of mostly ads and coupon fliers, but Noah froze when he reached the last envelope. Return address US Department of Veterans Affairs.
Leaning back, he tapped the envelope on his knee. Having taken this ride before, Noah knew the contents meant one of two things. The first option would drop him back into the cycle of false hope. The other would leave him hanging out on his own.
Noah shot to his feet to pace the nearly empty living room. The house had been cleaned out over the years—various relatives taking what they wanted, assuming the house would eventually be torn down. What he did have? The kitchen table, the couch and coffee table, plus the bed in one upstairs bedroom were his mother’s castoffs. Lucky for him, her hoarder nature meant she never threw anything away, even when the item no longer held her interest.
Slapping the letter against his thigh, he paced to the side window that allowed a clear view of Carrie’s trailer. Mother and child were nowhere in sight, which meant he had time to find out his fate. But did he want the answer poking around in his brain while he attempted to act normal in front of Carrie? He didn’t even need time to think about that one.
Gathering the junk mail, he tossed it in the trash and left the VA piece on the kitchen counter, grabbing the steaks from the fridge before heading out the back door. If he put them on now, they should be close to done when Carrie showed up. Once the meat was on the rack, he returned to the kitchen to deal with the toast. A minute later he was back outside, slapping four buttered slices of Texas toast on the grill. As he lowered the lid once again, Carrie stepped around the corner of the house with Molly on her hip. Her hair had been tamed, and the baby sported a brand-new outfit that included the smallest white sweater that Noah had ever seen.
“We made it,” she said, as Molly squirmed to get down. “I’m really sorry. I guess I needed that nap more than I knew.”
“No problem,” he lied. “I just put the steaks on, and the potatoes are staying warm inside.”
She switched the baby to her other hip. “I meant to grab a dessert before leaving town, but the shower didn’t end the way I expected, and it threw me off.”
Carrie didn’t elaborate, leaving Noah to wonder exactly how a bridal shower was supposed to end. “You didn’t have to bring anything. Unless you wanted something special to drink. There’s Coke and orange juice in the fridge.”
“That’s fine.” Caving to the child, she lowered Molly to the grass. “Dang it. I forgot her bottle on the counter.”
“I’ll keep an eye on her,” he offered, waving metal tongs toward her trailer. “Go ahead and get it.”
Hesitant, she looked from him to Molly and back. “Are you sure?”
Noah closed the grill lid and set the tongs on the makeshift table he’d set up earlier. “Hey there, little one.” He dropped to the ground beside the dark-haired child. “You good hanging with me for a couple minutes?” Molly squealed before grabbing his beard and yanking. Hard.
“Honey, no,” Carrie said, reaching for the baby’s hand.
“It’s fine.” Noah lifted his attacker into the air until she hovered above his head. “Can’t reach me from up there, can you?” Molly giggled, kicking her legs with glee. “You like it up there.” Turning her around, he brought the infant down to his lap and looked up to find her mother gaping at him. “What’s that look for?”
“I just . . .” Carrie shook her head. “I didn’t expect you to be so good with her.”
“I like kids,” he said, ignoring the tiny hand once again yanking on his beard. “But I’ll need to get the steaks off in a minute, so you better grab that bottle.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.”
Watching her hustle across the yard, Noah noticed how well the jeans fit her curves. Whispering in the baby’s ear, he said, “Your mom is really pretty.” Molly cooed in agreement, or so Noah assumed. Spinning her to face him, he said, “I’m Noah. It’s nice to finally meet you, Miss Molly.” Blue eyes so much like her father’s stared into his. “I’m hoping we can be friends.” She wrapped a strand of his hair around her fingers, and he had no doubt that the rest of him would follow suit before the night was through.
“I thought Cooper was bad about spoiling her,” Carrie said as Noah wheeled Molly around on the tricycle he’d dug out of the barn. “But you may have just knocked Uncle Coopy off his pedestal.”
By the time they’d finished the meal, Molly had been antsy to get down and play, but Carrie was reluctant to let her crawl around in the grass. The child would put anything and everything straight into her mouth, and to a baby a bug was no different from a p
iece of candy. As a solution, Noah had fetched an old tricycle from the barn, given it a good cleaning, and then settled Molly on the seat. He had to hold her to make sure she didn’t fall off, but Noah didn’t seem to mind.
“I’ll have to build a seat that will hold her up, but she’s welcome to have it.” He leaned the trike backward, lifting the front wheel off the ground, which sent Molly into fits of laughter.
“You don’t have to put yourself out for us,” she said, aware of the warmth spreading through her chest.
Noah shrugged. “I don’t mind. I like tinkering with stuff like this.”
Carrie hugged her sweater over her chest as she watched him play with her daughter. “Is that what you call what you do in there?” she asked, nodding toward the barn. “Tinkering?”
“For now.” Molly held tight to the handlebars as Noah pushed her in a circle. “I’d like to get a business going. Custom bikes. Restorations. That sort of thing.”
“Then you definitely need to meet Cooper. He owns a garage in town, but he also restores old cars. You two could probably talk for hours.”
Glancing her way, Noah shielded his eyes from the setting sun with one hand. “You mention this guy a lot. Are you sure you two aren’t more than friends?”
She laughed. “Considering he’s marrying my gynecologist, I’m pretty sure.” Debating her next words, she decided to reveal their real connection. “Cooper is my ex-husband’s best friend, so I’ve known him for a long time.”
“And he still talks to you?”
“We’re all friends,” she replied. His surprise set her on edge, but Carrie refused to ruin the evening by being defensive. “Spencer and I have let the past go. He’s actually getting married in a couple weeks. It’s going to be the event of the year.”
“Wait.” Noah lifted Molly off the trike and rose, stretching a painful kink out of his back. “You’re invited to your ex-husband’s wedding?”
“Actually, the bride tried to get me to be in it.” That had been a two-month argument that Carrie still couldn’t believe she’d won.
“We’re talking about the guy you cheated on, right?”
Patience gone, Carrie leaned forward in her chair. “Yes. The man I cheated on. Believe it or not, Noah, you’re the only person still holding that against me.” She bolted from the chair and reached for the baby. “It’s getting late. I’d better put her to bed.”
“Hold on a minute.”
“Thanks for dinner,” she said, ignoring his protest. Molly reached for Noah, but Carrie kept moving.
This entire thing had obviously been a mistake. One bad decision, which she’d more than paid for, and Noah condemned her for life. Once a sinner always a sinner. Fine. He was entitled to his opinion, but she wasn’t required to endure having it thrown in her face on a regular basis.
Five feet from her side gate, Carrie heard the sound of heavy footsteps behind her and picked up the pace.
Well, hell.
“Carrie, wait.” Noah jogged after her, reaching the gate as she tried to close it between them. “Come on. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I was surprised is all.”
“Surprised that anyone could possibly overlook my shameful behavior?” she asked. “Or simply surprised that I have friends? Unfaithful harlot that I am.”
She didn’t have to be so dramatic about it. “I’ve been in his shoes, okay? I can’t imagine being friends with the chick who screwed some other guy in my bed. So sue me for assuming your ex would hold a grudge. I know I do.”
Jaw still tense, Carrie said, “That explains a lot.”
“Look. I see the world through one lens. That’s the only one I know. If a friend came to you and said her ex beat her but now they’re friends, wouldn’t you have a problem with that?”
“You know that isn’t the same thing.”
“You’re right. It isn’t.” Noah ran a hand through his hair. The last hour had been the most normal one he’d had in years. He couldn’t let it end like this. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be an ass.”
Staring off in the distance, she took a deep breath before meeting his eyes. “You’re getting better at this apology thing.”
Relieved, he said, “I’ve had a lot of practice lately.” Molly stuck a thumb in her mouth as she tucked her head against Carrie’s neck. “Someone looks sleepy,” he said, running a hand over soft black curls.
“It’s nearly an hour past her bedtime. She’ll be out before I turn off her light.” Carrie rubbed the baby’s back. “I’m sorry that a woman cheated on you, Noah, but I’m not her. What happened between me and Spencer was complicated, and I make no excuses for what I did, but he’s forgiven me. We’ve moved on. Well,” she sighed, “he’s moved on, and I’m trying to do the same. I thought you might be able to help me do that, but I guess I was wrong.”
Noah knew a little something about trying to move on himself.
“I don’t know if I’m the person for that job, but I do know that the hour I just spent with you and your little girl is the best hour I’ve had in months. Maybe years. Give me another chance, Carrie.”
Light brown hair danced in the breeze as she stared at the sky behind him. Holding his breath, Noah watched the debate play out in her eyes. Would his heartfelt plea be enough? Doubt tightened his chest. In a short amount of time, Carrie had become a lifeline for him. A source of calm, quieting the constant storm in his mind. He didn’t want to depend that much on anyone, but he didn’t want to go back to the docs and their numbing pills either.
“Would you like to come sit on the porch with me after she’s asleep?” she asked, a hesitant smile teasing her lips. “I can use the monitor and be close if she wakes.”
With a rush of relief, Noah said, “I’d like that. Flash the porch light when she’s out, and I’ll come over.”
Carrie nodded. “I’ll see you in a bit then.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Noah stayed at the gate until mother and child had disappeared into the trailer. Crossing to his porch, he took a seat on the swing so as not to miss the signal when it came. Five minutes later, he realized he’d been sitting in silence without the usual bedlam in his brain. No fidgeting. No unwanted memories exploiting the moment. Just normal, soul-healing silence.
The little ladies next door might be the miracle he needed. A week ago, Noah had been certain that solitude was his only solution. That the damage he’d sustained would keep him from ever feeling normal again. But maybe there was hope for him yet.
Chapter 8
Thanks to her extended nap, Molly hadn’t been as easy to put to bed as Carrie had hoped. When they’d left Noah at the gate, the sun hovered just above the horizon line. Yet by the time her stubborn daughter had given up the fight, night had taken hold. One of the many perks of living so far from town was the abundance of stars visible on a clear night. Though the forecast called for rain in the morning, the clouds had yet to arrive, and like glitter drizzled over black velvet, the heavens glowed from every direction.
Surrendering to her girlish side, Carrie ducked into the bathroom to powder her nose. She also brushed her teeth. Lorelei would have been proud of the extra effort. One final check on Molly, who snored away in her crib, and Carrie tiptoed to the front door. She flicked the porch light three times and then stood in the doorway, not sure what to do with herself. Did she take a seat on the glider and wait? Or stay inside so as not to seem too eager? But if she stayed inside, Noah would have to knock, and that might wake Molly.
Outside was the clear winner. Not that she had to wait long. No sooner had the door closed behind her than Noah appeared at the base of the steps.
“Hi,” she said, feeling like a preteen going on her first date.
“Hi,” he said, taking the steps two at a time. “Is the little one out?”
“She is,” Carrie replied, overwhelmed by Noah’s size and scent. Her porch wasn’t nearly as big as his. “Do you want to sit down?” she asked, gesturing toward the ancient glider w
edged against the side railing.
“Sure.” Instead of taking a seat, Noah continued to loom over her.
“Are you going to sit?” she asked.
“I’m waiting for you to sit first.”
Who knew a gentleman lingered beneath that gruff attitude?
Carrie settled onto the teal cushion and shivered the moment cold metal touched her back. She should have skipped the toothpaste and taken the extra minute to find a jacket.
“Are you cold?” Noah asked, taking the seat beside her and stretching a strong arm along the back of the seat.
“I’ll be okay,” she assured him, shivering again.
“Here.” He pulled her close against his side. The man was like a raging furnace. “Better?”
He had no idea. Carrie didn’t trust her voice not to betray her, so she nodded instead.
“I forgot how clear the skies are out here,” he said, his head resting on the back of the glider. You don’t get this kind of a view in town. Or this kind of quiet either.”
Nature seemed determined to make him a liar. Crickets and frogs filled the night with croaks and chirps. Something howled in the distance, and the leaves rustled in the wind.
“You call this quiet?” she asked.
Noah closed his eyes and nodded. “I do.”
Following his lead, Carrie closed her own eyes and relaxed into him. “When I found this spot to put the trailer on, I thought I’d won the lottery. So pretty and free of nosy neighbors.”
“And then I moved in next door,” he said with a laugh. “I didn’t know Mama had sold off a piece of the place until I got here.”
“I assumed they’d sell off the rest,” she said, staring up at the stars. “Why did they leave the house empty for so long?”
He raised his head to stare at his crossed ankles. “Granny left the place to me and my cousin Zeke. We both went into the military about the same time, and I guess she thought we’d need something to come home to.”
“Does that mean Zeke will be moving in soon?” Carrie asked.
His big body tensed. “Zeke’s Humvee hit an IED two years ago. No survivors.”