Her Hopes and Dreams (Ardent Springs Book 4)

by Terri Osburn

  While the water got warm, he searched the bag that seemed to have magical powers. Need a diaper? It’s in there. Need teething medicine? It’s in there. Need a new probe for the space station? Noah had no doubt it was in there.

  The first thing he pulled out was a purple top covered in dark pink flowers. Testing the opening, it looked like something he could probably get over her head without breaking the child’s neck. Next he found a lime-green pair of pants. Worked for him. Five minutes later, he had a relatively clean baby dusting his hardwood with her ugly green pants.

  “Don’t let gravity win this time, Mol,” he said, grabbing the stack of mail from the counter and following her. “You can do this.”

  Noah plopped down on the couch and let the little one climb up his leg. Keeping one eye on her, he surveyed the envelopes and found another piece from the VA. Tossing the ads and utility bills aside, he opened the letter to find that he had until the end of the month to enroll in the new PTSD study.

  “Because that’s what I want for Christmas. A giant pile of side effects topped with a bow of disappointment.”

  The sound of the screen door slipping open caught his attention, and Noah managed to shove the letter down into the couch before Carrie stepped into the house.

  “Hey,” she said, looking a lot happier than he’d expect after spending time with Meredith Mitchner. “Molly, honey, what are you wearing?”

  “She’s wearing clothes,” Noah answered, pointing out the obvious while Carrie wiggled out of her coat. “That’s what you had in the bag.”

  Carrie laughed. “Each of those pieces has another half, and that is not it. Did she eat?”

  Sort of answering the question, he said, “There’s only half a thing of peas left.” Which was technically true.

  “Where’s the other half?” the knowing mother queried, with one brow riding high.

  “Hard to say. Her shirt,” he confessed. “The tray. The floor. Best guess, at least a quarter of it stayed in her mouth.”

  “A quarter is an amazing feat for your first try.” Carrie hung her jacket on the coat tree and crossed to the couch. Bending to drop a kiss on his lips, she said, “Hi.”

  “Hi yourself. You’re in a good mood considering who you were with.”

  “You aren’t going to believe how well that went.” She took the other end of the couch since Molly blocked the middle cushion. “Not only did Meredith admit that she might have judged you too quickly—her words—but back when she created the renovation budget, she added a contingency fund for any unforeseen expenses. Like replacing a useless septic system.”

  “I’ll be damned,” he mumbled.

  “Dam dam dam,” Molly mimicked.

  Carrie shot him a disapproving look. “Just know that the day she fires off profanity in public I’m going to walk away as quickly as possible, leaving you to explain where she learned it.”

  “You don’t get much practice controlling your tongue in a military platoon,” Noah defended. “I’m working on it.”

  “I appreciate that. A chubby-cheeked one-year-old who curses like a sailor is only so cute.” Reaching for something in Molly’s hand, she said, “What did you find, baby?”

  Before Noah could stop her, she’d pulled the VA letter from between the couch cushions.

  “Nothing,” he said, snagging the paper from Carrie’s hand. “Junk mail.”

  “Noah, that’s VA letterhead. What’s going on?”

  Darting off the couch, he said, “I told you. It’s nothing.”

  “If it was nothing you wouldn’t be so determined to hide it,” she said, following on his heels. “We can’t make this work if you shut me out. You don’t have to let me read it, but at least tell me what it’s about. It isn’t anything bad, is it?”

  Knowing she was right, he stopped just inside the kitchen. “Did I ever tell you that I got out of the service nine months before I actually came back here?”

  She shook her head. “No, you didn’t. Where were you?”

  “Bethesda. Thanks to my disorder, as soon as I got out, they put me into a study for a new PTSD drug.” Folding and unfolding the paper, he said, “In the end, I didn’t actually get the drug. They gave me a placebo for six months, like I was nothing more than a lab rat. The lucky bastards who got the pill got better. For a while. The rest of us got nothing.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “So they put you through the hell that created the problem, and then only pretended to offer help.”

  “That sums it up.” Noah tossed the letter on the counter before leaning in the doorway. “Now they want me to do another study. Some pill and psychotherapy mix.”

  “Does this one look more promising?” Carrie asked.

  “Hell if I know. I’m not getting poked and prodded again just to come home as fuc . . . I mean, messed up as I already am.”

  “But what if this one works? What if this one makes a difference and can give you some peace?”

  Noah rubbed his thumb along her cheek. “You give me peace. You’re the only thing that’s made any difference with this thing. So they can shove their study up their—” Before he could finish the thought, Carrie’s face lit up, and Noah spun to see what had happened behind him.

  “Hellfire. She’s walking.” Molly took three more steps before losing her balance and dropping to her bottom. Big blue eyes stared up at them with a smile that showed three tiny teeth.

  “You did it, baby!” Carrie yelled, sweeping her daughter off the floor. “You want to do it again? Huh?” She put the baby back on her feet near the couch. “Go on, hon. Go get Noah.”

  Arms stretched wide, Molly put one foot in front of the other and made it within a foot of the doorway. Noah lifted her off the ground before gravity could claim the victory. “That’s my girl. I knew you could do it.”

  “She is your girl,” Carrie said, eyes misty. “And now she’s our walking girl. Life will never be the same.”

  Feeling like the luckiest man alive, he shook his head. “No, ma’am. Life will never be the same again.”

  Chapter 21

  Carrie filled two mugs with hot coffee, heavy cream and sugar for her and black for Noah, before heading outside. Molly had just gone down for her nap, and Noah had to be freezing by now. He’d gone out nearly an hour ago to add caulk around the trailer windows after adding clear plastic on the inside hadn’t solved the temperature struggle.

  “Why aren’t you wearing a coat?” she demanded when she found him at the far window along the back.

  “I got hot,” he replied, keeping the caulk gun moving in a steady line. “It isn’t so bad out here.”

  “Noah, it’s thirty-eight degrees.”

  “Feels a hell of a lot better than one hundred and twenty.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. “Take a break and have some coffee.”

  Leaning the tube against the side of the trailer, Noah brushed his hands off on his jeans and took the mug. “She sleeping?” he asked.

  Carrie nodded. “I have the monitor in my pocket. It looks like you’re almost finished.”

  “The two on the end and it’s all sealed.”

  Though it was considerably warmer than her trailer, they’d yet to find safeguards for all the baby hazards in Noah’s house, which left them no choice but to stay put for now. The stairs alone scared Carrie half to death. In the week since Molly took those first steps, she’d conked her head on each end table, fallen face-first into Wilson’s water dish, and even disappeared for what seemed like hours before finally being located behind the couch. Those had been the longest thirty seconds of Carrie’s life, and she was pretty sure it was the source behind Noah finding his first gray hair.

  Which she wisely said made him more distinguished looking.

  “I forgot to pick up cat food at the store yesterday,” she said. “Wilson doesn’t handle fasting well, so I need to make a quick trip to town when you’re finished here.”

  “That cat could go a week without food and still b
e ten pounds overweight,” Noah said with a chuckle before sipping his coffee.

  “I told you—”

  “He’s big-boned. I got it.”

  Cradling her mug with both hands, she said, “Can I run an idea past you?”

  “What’s up?”

  “Well,” she hedged, nervous what his response might be. “Molly’s birthday is next month.”

  He leaned against the house and crossed one foot over the other. “Yeah. I heard that somewhere,” he said with a smile.

  Carrie shook her head at the sarcasm. “I want to know what you think about us having her party in the farmhouse.”

  “In my farmhouse?”

  “Yes, your farmhouse. It’s much bigger than my trailer, and I know I could have a party in town, but then I have to haul stuff all over the place, and it would be so much easier—”

  “Go for it,” he cut in.

  Holding his gaze, she said, “Are you sure? I mean, we aren’t talking a hundred people, but there would be a good number in your house.”

  Noah shrugged as he set his coffee on the back porch rail. “I don’t imagine they’ll be rifling through my drawers.”

  “You don’t have drawers,” she pointed out. “You keep everything on the floor in your closet.”

  Tapping her on the nose, he said, “Goes to show what you know. I bought a dresser yesterday.”

  “Really?” He hadn’t mentioned buying a piece of furniture. “How did you get a dresser in the house by yourself?”

  “Cooper helped me,” he said, as if this wasn’t the least bit unusual.

  Carrie backed up until her bottom hit the porch. This was all too much. She needed to sit down.

  “You’re hanging out with Cooper now?”

  Full lips curled into a crooked grin. “We aren’t going steady or anything, but I’m hoping he’ll ask me to prom.”

  “Be serious,” she said. “When did this happen?”

  Returning to his task, Noah said, “I stopped by his garage last week to see if he could get me a deal on snow tires for your car.” Pausing, he added, “They’re on order, by the way. He asked about the bikes, we exchanged numbers, and when I needed another strong back, I called him.”

  Befuddled, Carrie stared at the man she loved as if he’d told her he’d signed up for ballet lessons. “But why didn’t he stick around to say hello?”

  Shaking his head, he turned her way. “You’re a hard woman to surprise, you know that?”

  She perked up. “You have a surprise for me?”

  “I was going to show you when I was done here.” Setting the caulk on the porch, he took her hand. “Come on.”

  “Slow down,” Carrie said. “I want to drink my coffee, not wear it.”

  He shortened his gait so she could keep up.

  “What’s the surprise?” she asked.

  The woman was worse than a little girl. “If I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise.”

  They trudged through the gate, onto his porch, and into the house, where a wave of warmth hit them in the face.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s so nice over here,” Carrie sighed.

  Yes, it was. Which had been the impetus behind the surprise. There would be much left to do, but this was a solid first step to making his house a home.

  “Upstairs.” He pointed, letting her go first.

  Carrie set her mug on the newel at the bottom of the stairs and made her way to the second floor. At the top, she looked to him for guidance, and Noah nodded toward his bedroom. His gut clenched with nerves as she pushed the door open and stepped in.

  “Oh, Noah,” she said, turning to him with a hand over her mouth. “It’s beautiful.”

  Able to breathe once again, he said, “So you like it?”

  “Like it? I love it.” Carrie made her way around the room, trailing a hand along the dresser before turning to the bed. “You even got nightstands.”

  “They all came together. That Snow friend of yours said this is the one you’d want.”

  She stopped on the other side of the bed. “You talked to Snow?”

  Going for honesty, he said, “I can’t afford to buy new stuff, and the crap in Ma’s attic is ugly. I checked that curiosity shop, and she had this.” When Carrie brushed her hands over the comforter, he added, “Snow had that, too. I wasn’t sure if you’d like that color blue, but she said it was the right one.”

  Nodding, Carrie held silent, examining every nook and cranny of the new furniture.

  When she touched the curtain, Noah said, “Haleigh sent those with Cooper. He told her what I was doing, and I guess she knew there’d be something a guy would forget.”

  Carrie stared out the window long enough for doubts to seep into Noah’s mind. This had been his way of letting her know that he wanted her here with him. All the time from now on. But he hadn’t asked her first. Maybe she didn’t want that. Maybe he’d read things wrong and had moved too fast.

  “This doesn’t have to mean anything,” he said, attempting to backpedal his way to safer ground. “It’s just furniture. I had to get some anyway.”

  “But this does mean something, doesn’t it?” she said, turning with tears in her eyes. “You bought me furniture and put it in your bedroom.”

  Sliding his hands into his back pockets, Noah manned up. “I was hoping it could be our bedroom. You know. Eventually.”

  Running at full speed, she hit him like a runaway freight train, crying what he hoped were happy tears and tucking her face into his neck. Noah held his ground. Barely.

  “Is that a yes?” he asked, holding his breath.

  Her head bobbed up and down as his shirt collar grew wet.

  “Good,” Noah said, holding her tight, ignoring the bulky winter coat tickling his nose. “Then that’s settled.”

  If anyone had told Carrie that the moment a man—no, the right man—asked her to spend the rest of her life with him, that she’d be bundled up in a parka and would follow up the glorious moment with a trip to the grocery store to buy food for her morbidly obese cat, she probably would have believed every word of it. Because this was how her life went.

  A tragedy one minute. A comedy the next. And now, thanks to Noah, a real love story.

  Humming a happy tune as she carried her little blue basket around the store, Carrie smiled at every patron who gave her an odd look. Had they never seen a tiny woman wearing a ridiculously large biker jacket before? She may not have gotten a ring, which she could give two figs about, but she was darn well going to wear something of Noah’s to mark the occasion. Since he didn’t wear jewelry except his dog tags, which came with a negative connotation in his case, she swiped the jacket. He’d laughed and called her crazy. Which she was.

  Crazy in love.

  Molly had still been sleeping when Carrie left, but the nap wouldn’t last much longer, and she had a future to celebrate, which put an extra pep in her step. Since they weren’t the wine-toasting type, she went for ice cream instead, tossing a bottle of chocolate sauce into the basket for good measure. That way Molly could partake in the celebration as well.

  Strolling down the pet food aisle, she was picking up a stack of three small cans when something caught her eye farther down the row. There she was. The stranger she’d bumped into at the bananas the day of Lydia’s party. Paying little attention to what she was doing, Carrie slid half a dozen more cans into her basket and then faked a deep interest in dryer sheets in order to get closer to the woman. This time she had a distinct purple bruise around her left eye and an ACE bandage around one wrist.

  Anger flared to life. This woman needed help. She needed a way out. The shelter wouldn’t open for more than a month, but Carrie knew what could happen in that short time. Based solely on their previous encounter, she believed with every fiber of her being that the violence this woman endured would continue to escalate. The bandage would give way to a cast. The bruise to a shattered jaw.

  “Excuse me,” she said, following her instincts. “Could I bo
ther you for just a second?”

  The stranger glanced around, eyes darting with fear. “I don’t—”

  “I want to switch to a new detergent, but I’m not sure which one to try,” Carrie continued, taking extra precaution in case the woman’s husband was close by. “Which one do you recommend?”

  “I use that one,” she replied, pointing to a blue bottle on the shelf.

  “I haven’t tried that one yet.” Carrie stepped closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Is your husband here with you?”

  She shook her head. “He’s out in the car.”

  “I’ve been where you are, and I want to help.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the woman muttered, holding a hand near her throat. “I don’t need any help.”

  Undeterred, Carrie said, “My husband beat me for five years. I’ve had those bruises. And I never found the courage to get out.”

  Bloodshot blue eyes glanced up and down the aisle. “Are you still with him?”

  “A friend helped me get away, and shortly after, my husband died.” Being completely honest, she added, “I probably would have gone back to him if that hadn’t happened. I’m not sure I’d be alive today if I had. Let me help you. Please.”

  Dropping her gaze to the floor, the stranger said, “What can you do for me? He’ll never let me go.”

  Searching her purse, Carrie found an old receipt and wrote down her cell phone number. “I’m working with a group to open a shelter on the edge of town, but the renovations are going to take another month. If you see a chance to get out, call me.” She stuffed the paper into the woman’s hand. “I’ll come get you wherever you are.”

  Tucking the number into her coat pocket, the woman said, “Where would I go? You just said the shelter isn’t open yet.”