by Kinney Scott
***
It was still dark when Rick stumbled, trying to get to the crying baby. He stubbed his toe on the corner of the bed.
“Shit, that hurt,” he cursed.
“Going to have to curb that habit,” Linnea mumbled, turning on the light. Ricky screamed louder, staring with fear at the still unfamiliar faces in the foreign place.
“Yeah,” he agreed over the deafening wails. Lists of life’s changes crowded his thoughts. Scooping Ricky up, his diaper had soaked through the footed pajamas and leaked over the bedding.
“Everything’s wet,” Rick said holding the baby away from him. Dangling, Ricky stopped crying. His chubby legs kicked, turning the trapeze hold into a novel game.
“I’ll change him if you want to start a bottle of formula,” Linnea said, as he transferred the squirming baby her way. Tossing a baby blanket on the edge of the bed, she made quick work of the wet clothes and diaper. Laura appeared from the hall with a warm washcloth to give Ricky a quick rinse.
“He’s so strong,” Linnea laughed, as the baby attempted to squirm and roll off the bed.
“He’ll be walking and climbing soon. We’ve got to get this place baby-proofed.”
Linnea heard the message between the words. Laura wanted her grandson to live in Portland. Fear sliced, she wasn’t sure what Rick intended. What would happen to their relationship if he chose to stay in Portland? Pushing the thoughts aside, Linnea finished dressing Ricky, passing him to his Grandmother.
Through breakfast, Laura cooed and talked to the boy, making airplane bites out of apple-oatmeal cereal. Ricky squealed happily. Chubby hands slapped the high chair, demanding more bites.
Slipping out the back door, Linnea called Mosquito Creek Brewing, “Hey Dillon. How busy was the taproom yesterday?” she asked.
His dependable voice answered, “Not too busy, typical weekend numbers. I think it may pick up today. When are you coming in?” he always looked forward to spending time with Linnea.
“Something’s come up in Portland. I’d like to stay here one more day if you can handle Mosquito without me.”
“No problem. Take all the time you need. Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked hearing exhaustion in her voice.
“Covering for me in Ashwood is a huge help - thanks. I’ll explain when I get back.”
“Okay, Linn. Take care and call if you need anything,” Dillon worried. Linnea was a giving person, and her one fault was never leaving time for herself.
“Will do. See you soon,” she said ending the call.
Raised voices spilled from the house, catching her inside the threshold of the kitchen door. She eased it silently closed and waited just inside the kitchen.
“Mom, I can’t stay here. My life is in Ashwood. I have a job, a house…”Linnea held her breath praying she’d be included in that short list, but Laura cut him off with her plea.
“You can’t possibly raise Ricky on your own. Please, you can find a construction job here. We’ll help each other raise him.”
The baby’s fussy cries mingled with angry words, seeming to voice a request no one could understand.
“If you want to be close to Ricky, come back and teach in Ashwood,” he insisted.
“What if Grace comes looking for me?” she repeated the same plea that held her life in limbo.
“Grace took away your marriage. Grace took away a job you loved. Don’t let Grace take your grandson from you. You read her letter - Grace wants us to move on. She gave Ricky everything she was capable of giving, and she has nothing left,” his voice shook. Linnea forced her feet to stay planted, but she longed to hold Rick and absorb his pain.
The argument faded as Laura wept, reluctantly agreeing with her son. Linnea spotted Ricky’s high chair the tray still littered with remnants of breakfast. She gathered the small utensils and moved to the sink, washing the tiny spoon, bowl and bright plastic plate. The running water masked the sound of Rick moving in behind her.
“We need to leave for Ashwood tonight,” he said over her shoulder.
“Is your Mom okay?” she worried, spinning to face him, now locked in his embrace.
“She can’t be my main concern. Ricky has to be my first priority. I need a day to get my house ready, and make arrangements for childcare,” he stated efficiently.
Her nod of agreement strengthened his resolve. If his mother chose to return to Ashwood, he would welcome her help. However, if she resumed her pattern of endless waiting for Grace to come home, he could not allow Ricky to join that hopeless pursuit. Not now, not ever.
Rick stepped closer, “Let’s leave after we feed Ricky lunch. Hopefully, he’ll sleep for the entire drive home.” He took comfort from the heat of her lips and the soft way her body eased against his.
FOURTEEN
Exhaustion. Climbing Mount Adam’s hadn’t produced this kind of bone-tiredness, neither had working a fire line for fifteen hours straight. Rick lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling trying to doze waiting for Ricky to begin wailing again. If he fell into deep sleep, he may not wake fast enough to keep Linnea from jumping to Ricky’s rescue. She’d moved quickly the last two times he woke and now his shift with the baby was overdue.
The mattress felt soft, and Linnea’s thigh wrapped around his leg felt softer. Lost in the warmth of both, Rick succumbed to the fatigue, sinking deep into dreamless sleep.
Waking to the smell of coffee, Rick stared at the ceiling again. The light coming through the window was bright, too bright for early morning. Turning to his side the dim lights on his bedside clock shocked him into rapid movement. Pulling the door open, he found Linnea on the floor with Ricky, reading to him from a board book.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked.
“No need. I fed and dressed this little man and we’ve been reading. We haven’t been up very long, have we Ricky?” she cooed more to the baby than to Rick.
Guilt stabbed at him, he didn’t know how he would handle this change on his own, but dragging Linnea into his mess stank of selfishness.
“Have you had breakfast?” he asked.
“Toast and yogurt,” she nodded.
“Want some fried eggs?” he pulled a pan from the cupboard and turned on the stove.
“No, I’m not hungry,” Linnea wandered to the kitchen island, buckled Ricky in the high chair and put a few Cheerios on his tray.
“Is he old enough for those?” Rick worried aloud.
“Yes, I found a note from a woman named Candace in his bag. It listed some of his favorites. Cheerios were on the list and you had some in the cupboard.”
Rick watched in amazement as the baby pinched a round O with his thumb and index finger, brought the shape awkwardly to his lips, and mouthed the cereal before mashing it with his little teeth.
“Cool,” Rick smiled, “I can make Cheerios.”
Rick discovered the note in Candace’s fluid handwriting. Cooked carrots, banana, and scrambled eggs began the list of approximately fifteen things his boy could already eat. Seeing this, Rick decided to scramble his eggs instead of frying. After second breakfast, Ricky took a nap.
Linnea moved from the shower into the bedroom wrapped in a towel. Her long legs tempted. A little peek of ass brought Rick to his feet. In the dim light of the curtained room, she bent over her suitcase, selecting clothes. The towel had eased up over her ass revealing the soft hollow space at the apex of her thighs. Rick’s soft growl from the doorway pivoted her head his direction.
Heat and desire lit Rick’s eyes. Her bare feet moved her silently forward as if pulled by an invisible band. Wrapped in a towel, Linnea had tossed her hair up and out of the way for her shower. Only the tendrils near her face were damp. Grasping the edges of the towel, Rick held it closed, and drug her forward into the living room. Easing her down she took his directions to sit on the couch where Rick planned to feast on her.
The towel fell open and rumpled on either side of her completely bare body. Her arousal mingled with the sweet sc
ent of her sugar lotion, “you smell good enough to eat.”
He dropped to his knees on the floor, removed his shirt, and eased her legs apart. The first nibble on the underside of her jaw ignited a synapse of sensation. A light suck to the spot just above her clavicle caused a responsive moan. He spoke against her skin, “Right there. That’s sweet spot number one,” his teeth bit and her back arched before he moved on.
Rick’s tongue slid down the valley between her soft breasts. “Oh, God Rick,” she panted, pressing forward chasing the sensation.
“Mmm, that second sweet spot’s tastier than the first,” he chuckled. His mouth found her breast to caress an already sensitive bud and sucked hard. Her fingers laced through Rick’s hair pinning him in place. She began to push him back, longing to straddle him between her legs on the floor.
He sensed her need, “Not yet babe. I’m not done.”
Still on his knees, he eased away, her fingers slid from his hair to the tight muscles coiled at his shoulders and trailed a delicate path across his bare chest. Easing her back on the couch, he pulled her hips to the edge of the cushion and eased her thighs open. His eyes worshipped her, “Linn, you’re beautiful,” he whispered in a voice graveled with desire.
Rick bent, and nibbled his way from her knee, across her thigh. A new shiver from Linnea made him pause, “Found another sweet spot, that one is new,” he chuckled.
“I’m on my way to your sweetest place. Are you ready?” he asked his eyes locking on her molten gaze.
She blushed and nodded, “Yes, please.”
Fuck yeah, he thought. Her words had come straight from a vivid fantasy.
No matter how much Linnea moaned he didn’t rush. The first contact with her pussy was only a swipe of his tongue along the outer edge. The second a light feathered kiss. Each touch from his heated lips, his careful teeth, or his plunging tongue coiled Linnea’s body tighter.
He held control, never entering the space where her body begged to be owned. Tight fingers grasped the towel on either side of her hips. Her head began to strain against the couch. Rick couldn’t fight the need any longer and had to feel her heat around some part of his body. His tongue dipped first. A sharp cry from Linnea told him she was about to break apart. The hum of pleasure from Rick almost sent her over, but she needed more.
Linnea’s patience paid out in a wealth of pleasure. His hand moved to where his tongue had been, as two fingers slicked inside. Just as her hips levitated from the couch, he sucked on her bundle of nerves, shattering her world, dousing her in waves of bliss. Rick tasted and kissed until she sank sated into the couch.
His careful attention revisited each sweet spot again, retracing his path from her thigh to her torso and finally her neck. The rasp of his zipper lifted the lids of her eyes. Uncoiling from the floor he stood in front of her, his cock at eye level. She sat forward, licked her lips, and looked forward to his mouthwatering taste.
***
The couple emerged from a shower to the sounds of Ricky’s cries. They slipped into the bedroom and dressed quickly. A knock at his door shouldn’t have surprised Rick.
He opened and discovered his mother and her best friend, Mary Fisher, standing expectantly on his doorstep. He exhaled, as his plans for a quiet day at home with Ricky scattered away with his mother’s eager smile.
“Mary couldn’t wait to meet Ricky. Where’s my beautiful Grandbaby?” his mother said pushing past him into the house.
Surprised, Linnea emerged with Ricky in her arms. As Rick’s gaze met hers, Linnea’s eyes widened. The couple silently communicated relief that his mother had not arrived an hour earlier.
“Rick, we’ve bought a back seat full of things for the baby. Could you run out and get them?”
Mary sat on the couch as Laura scooped her Grandson out of Linnea’s arms. He protested the rapid transfer but quickly became distracted by the squeak of a stuffed giraffe dangling in front of his cherub face. Linnea stood still until the baby adjusted and followed Rick outdoors.
“Oh my, where will all of that fit?” she asked as he stood staring at the piles of toys, clothes, and gadgets his mother purchased on her way to Ashwood.
“I don’t have the first damn clue. I hope she has receipts because some of this has to go back.”
“Try not to hurt her feelings, Rick. Maybe we can return some of it and get things you really need.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible. She bought out the store.”
Her nod and laugh lightened his mood by a fraction. “I don’t see a baby back-pack,” she said.
“They make those?” he asked hopefully.
“Yeah, and out here that’s as essential as an all-terrain stroller.”
The words coming out of her mouth made no sense. “All-terrain stroller…what are you talking about?”
He realized his view of life with a baby was littered with huge inaccuracies.
“You’ll need a sturdy stroller for some hikes, the backpack for others,” she nodded and watched as his mouth dropped open.
“Did you think you’d have to give all that up?” she asked with a smile.
“Well, yeah. I guess. To be honest, I haven’t had time to process much.”
“All-terrain strollers are expensive. Your mom obviously wants to help. She just doesn’t know how. Ask her for receipts and we will exchange some of this next week,” she shrugged with matter-of-fact ease.
He wrapped her tight and thanked her for being patient. He pulled her in for a kiss, “Thank you.”
“Your welcome,” helping Rick adjust might be the only thing she could do right now to show how much she loved him.
Opening the car door, Rick filled Linnea’s waiting arms with a portion of his mother’s purchases. He labored under the rest. As he stacked the parcels in the second bedroom, he mentally gave up his library. It would soon become Ricky’s own room.
***
Kent eased to the edge of the road, to let Seth and Natalie pass. Natalie’s wave confused him. He never expected to spot the couple on the narrow drive coming from Rick’s place. The last bend on Rick’s drive was lined with cars and pickups. Hurrying around the front of his truck, he almost ran into Rick coming out to meet him.
“What’s going on?” Kent asked.
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Rick’s jaw tightened around the words.
“Your Mom?” Kent laughed aloud.
“Mom called half the town. Everyone comes, but nobody leaves. My refrigerator can’t hold all the casseroles. Every person in Ashwood stopped in with a crocheted blanket, baby clothes, or a pack of diapers.”
“They just want to help. As you can see my hands are empty, I’ve got nothing for you,” Kent laughed aloud this time, his head tossing back to enjoy his friend’s discomfort.
Everyone in town loved Rick, they always had. Each time he chopped and delivered firewood, helped after an accident, or rescued their pet, he’d moved on with a quiet you're welcome. Now it was his turn, and the attention felt like a hot blinding spotlight.
Bill Michaels wandered out of the house with a couple men from the fire department. Meeting Rick and Kent halfway, Bill hoped to talk some of the panic out of his young friend.
“Take a breath, Rick,” Bill said placing a steady hand on Rick’s shoulder. Rick nodded and Seth’s father continued, “This will all settle out in a week, maybe two. Hard to say, because this baby is a surprise and well, Rick - you are…you.”
Rick’s puzzled expression let the men standing around him know he didn’t have a clue how much this town owed him. He selflessly gave and gave.
“I’ll see if I can get Mary to reign it in,” Dale added.
“That’s okay,” Rick said shaking his head. “Mary is mom’s best friend, I expected some of this, I guess. Just not all at once and not so soon.”
“It’s so close to Christmas everyone’s itching to do something generous. It’s part of the season,” Bill tried to explain.
All the men no
dded, seeing the evidence of the towns’ exuberance in the number of cars pulled onto Rick’s lawn. More men wandered out. Among them Bill’s son Owen, with Owen’s kids trailing close behind.
“Here this might help,” Owen said with a chuckle handing Rick a beer.
Owen knew firsthand how much Rick’s life would change. “Rick, you need to accept help. My kids attend daycare in town next to the Ranger Station. I recommend it. My wife knows the best sitters. You’ll need to take a break.”
Rick nodded, trying to absorb the first practical words he’d heard all day.
“Here you are,” Traci said walking toward her husband. “Let’s get the kids home. Rick, I want to watch that cute baby for you. He’s so sweet.” Rick nodded, accepting another offer to watch his nephew.
“Don’t get any ideas,” Owen warned. “Every time she holds a baby, she wants to have a third.”
Traci pulled him away, blushing in the company of half the men in town. “Home, the kids are getting restless,” she insisted.
Owen smiled, knowing he’d embarrassed his wife. Rick watched Owen walk away slipping his hand around his wife with a kid in his other arm. Their son trailed behind, his little legs pumping to keep up. As the family neared parked cars, Traci took her son’s hand guiding him around the unmoving vehicles. He remembered playing varsity football with Owen and admiring him at the time. He still admired the man - but for different reasons.
When most of the impromptu party cleared, Linn expected Rick to wander indoors. Laura sat across from Ricky, feeding him a dinner of apricot baby food and macaroni casserole chopped in little bites.
“I haven’t seen Rick in a while,” Laura observed.
“Maybe he’s still outside with Kent. Mind if I wander out?” Linnea asked.
“Take your time. I’ll give Ricky his bath and put him to bed before I head over to Mary and Dale’s for the evening.” Linnea might have offered to have Laura stay, but the couch was a poor substitute for the guest room on Osprey Lake. She also didn’t know how Rick would feel about more company, especially after the chaos his mother brought to his door.