This Wandering Heart

by Janine Rosche

  Robbie stopped her with a look.

  Hands in the air, Keira surrendered. “Okay. She’s one hundred percent your daughter, no doubt about it.”

  “But I didn’t know about her for a while. After that night, I didn’t talk to Vivian. Man, I didn’t even call her. What a jerk, huh? But about three months later, she showed up at the resort, looking as if she’d been stampeded by a herd of buffalo or something. When she told me she was pregnant, I’ve never seen so many tears.

  “I just held her. She kept swearing that she hadn’t been with anyone else, which I’d figured. Viv was a flirt, but she wasn’t one to sleep around, you know? Anyway, she told me her stepfather kicked her out of her house that morning, and she had nowhere else to go. She kept saying, ‘I can’t do it alone.’ Her mom was a single mother for most of Vivian’s life, and she’d seen how hard it was.”

  Pity for Vivian snaked into Keira’s heart. She tried to shoo it away, but it didn’t listen. She’d never liked the girl, but Keira knew too well what it was like to be alone.

  “She was so scared, Keira. All because of my weakness and my self-centeredness. I went over behind the wood pile and got sick. I sobbed, then got sick again.”

  “Oh, Robbie.”

  “Afterward, I kind of stumbled back to where she was. From her purse, she pulled out this little pink Bible with her name embossed on the cover. She’d gotten it for her baptism when she was a baby, I think. She placed it in my hands and asked me to show her what God would say. I opened it to Psalm 139.”

  Keira knew it well. A lump lodged in Keira’s throat.

  “She kind of sat there for a while, reading it over and over. I prayed and thought of you, and how sad you would be when you heard what I’d done.”

  The rain fell harder in front of the balcony. Some of the drops came down on an angle and splashed onto the deck, chilling Keira’s feet.

  She scooted her legs over until they rested against Robbie’s denim pant leg.

  “Cold?”

  “A little.”

  Robbie removed his hooded sweatshirt and covered Keira’s legs with it. “Vivian started going on and on about how she’d been a mistake her whole life . . . to her mother . . . to me. She didn’t understand why God would let this happen.”

  “‘Vivian,’ I said, ‘you are not a mistake. God knit you together, too. You have a purpose in this life, like this baby.’ Then I begged her to tell me how to help her.” Robbie placed his hand on Keira’s sweatshirt-draped knee.

  Her heart stuttered.

  He traced a circle with his thumb, then shoved himself up out of the chair. His hands grasped the railing, and he lifted his face toward the dark sky. “Then she told me the one thing I could do to convince her to keep the baby. She wanted to be with me. Like, in a relationship. She even said, ‘I know you miss Keira. Let me be Keira for you.’”

  Another flash of light.

  One, two, three—

  Thunder.

  “I told her it doesn’t work like that. She begged me to try.” Robbie turned to face Keira. “What could I do? She had no job, no home, no family. And if I said no . . .”

  Keira nodded her understanding.

  “You’d been gone for more than five months. I didn’t know if you’d ever come back. But I had a child who needed me. And I felt a responsibility to help Vivian. I don’t know why.”

  “Because you’re a protector. That’s who you are at your core.”

  “A week later we were at the doctor. During the ultrasound, Anabelle’s heartbeat flashed real fast. Her tiny body curled on the screen, like a kitten sleeping. For the briefest of moments, I imagined you lying on the table with the wand pressed to your belly. Me, you, and our little Kitty Kat.”

  Even at a time like that, he’d thought of Keira. A mix of anger, sadness, and joy choked her. She couldn’t speak.

  “I got a job up in Bozeman, and we moved into a one-bedroom apartment. I wasn’t comfortable with it, but my hands were tied. Actually, I was ready to do a shotgun wedding. It was my dad who advised me to wait.”

  Nausea rolled through her. He’d almost married her?

  “It was awful from the start. She was sick constantly. We’d argue. And when we did, she had this list of insults and names she’d call me. Only a few weeks after we moved in, Vivian opened a box of mine and found a framed picture. You know the one of you and me kissing at Yosemite?”

  That was her favorite picture of them, too.

  “She got this cold look in her eyes. I thought she’d throw it or something. Instead, she handed it back to me real smooth-like. She said that if I ever wanted to hold this baby, then I was not allowed to speak to you or even say your name.”

  Behind him, gnarled fingers of lightning spread across the darkness as if they were trying to clutch him. The thunder that followed soon after cracked and grumbled loud enough to shake the balcony beneath them and jolt Keira to her feet.

  “I didn’t want to agree to it. Even though I was still angry that you’d left, I didn’t want to let you go. But I had to. This child, without a face, with only a nickname, was mine to protect, no matter what it cost. So when Ryann called the next week to tell me you’d come back, I wanted to come to you. If I weren’t scared out of my mind about what Vivian might do, I would’ve.”

  Keira moved toward him until they were so close that a breeze mingled the loose fabric of her shirt with his. She placed her hand over his heart, feeling its pulse kiss her palm again and again. “Robbie, don’t ever apologize for having Anabelle. Or anything you did for her.”

  Robbie released a breath that warmed her cheek. When he met her gaze, the light and darkness still grappled in his eyes. “I’m certainly paying the price for my sin now, aren’t I?”

  * * *

  * * *

  Keira lay in her room. She wished there were extra blankets. Even under the sheet and duvet, she couldn’t get warm enough. She should’ve hugged him out on his balcony. That would’ve warmed her up, for sure. But if she’d hugged him, it may have led to more. Was she ready for that?

  If she’d had any idea leaving him would send him into such a spiral, she probably wouldn’t have left. Of course, she’d convinced herself he didn’t love her the way she loved him. Had she been wrong? After all, he still hadn’t explained why he didn’t want to marry her.

  MRCustom could give her advice. He seemed to understand both men and women. She rolled and grabbed the phone off the nightstand. On Momentso, her first photo from Twin Falls posted today, to keep with her new delayed-posting rule. None of her followers would know her exact location in real time anymore. The post was well received.

  Snake River Canyon at sunrise. Keira held Anabelle, tummy to tummy, with the little girl’s legs crossed around Keira’s waist. Because the picture was cropped, only the ends of Anabelle’s curly locks showed.

  The name MRCustom was missing from her list of incoming messages. Strange. Why hadn’t he written? Maybe he hadn’t been okay with her assistant’s daughter being in the picture. Was he jealous? Hard to say. She searched for his username. A green dot appeared on his profile picture. He was online.

  KAT WANDERFULL: Hey!

  She fluffed her pillow while she waited for his reply. What was taking him so long? He was a slow typist, but still . . . She glanced at the phone screen. The green dot was gone. And he hadn’t replied.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  The hands of the clock lingered on each hash mark and number during the volunteering shift he and Keira did in the hospital’s pediatric unit. A slow dance of time that Robbie relished, especially after the drive from Tahoe to Southern California. In just two days they’d visited Sequoia National Park, scaled the Sierra Nevadas, and hit the outskirts of Death Valley before hopping on Route 395 to San Bernardino. The drive, filled with singable songs and a Jackie Chan marathon, unleashed the kind of
laughter from Keira that Robbie had imagined often in the years they’d been apart. But that same laughter made moments with Keira pass too quickly. He was glad for this change of pace.

  Ellen, the nurse assigned to this hospital room, kneeled by the rocking chair. Her hand grazed Robbie’s arm. “How’s Maxwell doing?”

  The baby boy Robbie held against his chest cooed with each exhale. He was featherlight for his eleven weeks of age, hence the feeding tube that disappeared into his tiny nose. Failure to thrive, his chart said. “He seems pretty happy. Whatever’s in this tube must be good. Got any for me?” Robbie asked.

  “You’re funny. And very good with him. I wish all volunteers were like you.”

  “Rocking babies is the easy part. You nurses are the heroes.”

  On the opposite side of the room, another rocking chair creaked. Keira rose from it slowly.

  The little girl in her arms was older. Around four months or so. The baby’s fist held tight to a tendril of Keira’s hair, even as Keira rocked her back and forth. The gentle motion, the nurse assured earlier, would not incite the seizures that landed Opal a stint in this place.

  Summoning all his self-control, Robbie purposed not to watch Keira’s swaying hips. Something was definitely wrong with him. Three hours cuddling babies shouldn’t be sexy. Keira made it so.

  Maxwell squeaked and blew out a warm breath.

  “I think I’ll walk him a bit.” Whenever he’d held Anabelle as a baby, he imagined himself as one of those dancing actors in his mom’s old movies. Gene Astaire or Fred Kelly or something. Swoops and glides were better than the jukes and scrambles he was used to. This was no different, except for the tubes and the rolling drip stand, of course. He danced his way to Keira’s side. “Hey.”

  Keira didn’t respond. She was locked in a gaze with Baby Opal, whose nickname was unfortunately not Opie or Al, as he had suggested.

  “You look good with a baby in your arms. I wish your followers could see this side of you.”

  Still nothing.

  Opal twisted her body to see Robbie. A big, toothless smile spread across her face. At least one of them wasn’t mad at him.

  “I think Opal’s your biggest fan. After me, of course.” Robbie nudged her side.

  Keira pursed her lips.

  Opal mimicked the facial expression.

  “Don’t be jealous, Keira.” He kept his voice low. There was already too much interest in them among the hospital staff already. “You should know by now who has my heart.”

  Every part of Keira stilled, except for her eyes, which widened to the size of quarters.

  Oh no. He hadn’t meant to make Keira stop breathing. A swoony sigh? Maybe. A hitch in her breath? Definitely. But she seemed to stop breathing entirely.

  Maxwell squirmed. A noise ripped through the room.

  “Oh, Max. Some wingman you are. Ellen, diaper change on aisle three.”

  At least Opal laughed.

  Forty-five minutes later, they tossed their scrubs in a laundry bin outside the dressing rooms. They’d stayed thirty minutes past the agreed-upon volunteer time, not that Ellen minded. It gave her the chance to write down her username for a half-dozen social media sites on a paper, which she stuck in Robbie’s back pocket while he said goodbye to Maxwell.

  Seriously? Flattering, but no thanks.

  “Do you think the hospital’s KidWatch workers will mind we’re running late to pick up Anabelle?” Keira asked.

  “Nah. They said we could take our time. Besides, it’s probably good for Anabelle to get more time around other kids. Preschool starts this fall.”

  Keira’s steps stuttered. She was out of sorts today. Mom would say she had her knickers in a knot. For the first time, Robbie might actually understand what that phrase even meant. Either she had another surprise set of grandparents or . . .

  “You had a tough time saying goodbye to Opie in there.”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “I wish we could stay longer. What kind of mom drops her sick baby at a hospital and leaves?”

  “Not sure. One who needs to work to pay the medical bills? Did you see all those machines? I bet every beep costs a thousand dollars.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. “If I had a million dollars, I’d use it to cover lost wages, so parents could be with their babies at the hospital.”

  Robbie would bet that this was the first time in history that fluorescent lights had a romantic glow to them. He caught her hand on the backswing and threaded his fingers through hers. “You know what, Miss Wanderfull? Your heart is my favorite part of you. Thanks for letting me join you for your Serving Sunday thing—even if we had to postpone it to Wednesday.”

  “I’m glad you did. Maxwell was a cutie. It’s silly, but I kept picturing that he was our little boy, Charlie. You know, the one we’d imagined so long ago?”

  “Um, if Charlie is born with skin the color of Maxwell’s, we’ll have to talk.”

  She squeezed his hand. “You know what I mean. You’re good with babies.”

  Robbie buttoned his lips a moment, hard enough to burn. He breathed deep. “Did you know I once asked Ryann to raise Anabelle?”

  Keira’s eyes went wide. “You did?”

  He kept walking, tugging Keira along. Outside the hospital doors, there was a line of benches beneath some shade trees.

  Robbie led the way to the closest one, and they sat. “As a baby, Anabelle had colic and acid reflux. She cried a lot and puked even more. We tried every formula, but nothing sat right in her tummy. She always seemed to be in pain. One night, when Anabelle was two months old, she wouldn’t stop crying. Vivian was holding her and patting her back so hard that Annie couldn’t catch a breath. So, I took the baby from her. Vivian lost it. She called me stupid—said God only gave me half a brain.”

  Keira tsked and twisted her body to face him. She gripped his hand harder between both of hers and held it on her lap. In her eyes, he saw his own pain reflecting back.

  “I kept trying to calm her down, but there was no point. Vivian packed a bag, all the while yelling vile things about me and my family. She left that night. Afterward, I struggled to balance it all on my own. One day, I was sitting at Mom and Dad’s kitchen table. Ryann was burping Anabelle. The whole three ounces came right back up. Annie started screaming again, but Ryann rocked her, rubbing circles on her back with that baby puke just soaking into her clothes. I said that Anabelle would be better off with her.”

  “What did Ryann say?”

  “You know Ryann.” Robbie felt a pull in his cheeks at the memory. “She told me to knock it off. That Anabelle would grow up knowing she had a father who loved her enough to fight her battles alongside her. I quit my job that Monday and moved back to West Yellowstone. Still wasn’t easy, but my family was a huge help. After the café closed for the summer, Mom watched her while I began building the cabin.”

  “Which is breathtaking, by the way.”

  “You think so?”

  Keira nodded. “You’re really talented. I could see your stuff pictured in House Beautiful or Wild Montana magazine. I could make some calls.”

  “Nah. I don’t want the fame. Just enough money to give Anabelle a good life with some time left over at night to be with those I love.”

  “Robbie, why haven’t you started that home-building business you always talked about?”

  “You’ll make fun of me.”

  “You know me better than that.”

  “After I bumbled through the paperwork to launch the LLC, I started thinking about the contracts and stuff that I’d have to write up for clients. It put me in a cold sweat.”

  “That’s why you haven’t gone after your dream? Because you’re afraid of paperwork? There are people who could help you with that. I could help you with that. That is if this digital nomad gig of yours doesn’t work out.”

 
“I have no idea what you just said, but okay.” Robbie settled back on the bench. It was nice enough here. But mostly because of Keira. The truth was he missed Montana. This life of hers was fun but exhausting. What he wouldn’t give to spread out a blanket on the Madison riverbank and dream with Keira on a lazy Sunday afternoon.

  “Hey, Robbie?”

  “Hmm?” He didn’t want to come back to reality yet.

  “That night Vivian left . . . did she say anything about me?”

  He opened his eyes. After letting go of her hand, he removed his hat and loosened his curls with a tousle. “She was sitting in the car with the engine idling. I was holding Anabelle against my chest and kind of bouncing her a little to soothe her, you know? Vivian rolled down her window and said . . .”

  “What?”

  “That the bravest thing you ever did was leave me.”

  Keira crossed her arms over her stomach. “Shows you how much she knows. That wasn’t brave. Quite the opposite, in fact.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The next day’s midafternoon sun spilled through the windows of Lady Audra’s Tea Shoppe, a small cobblestone house in the center of San Diego’s’s Royal Village theme park. Steam rose past Keira’s nose and eyes until her rounded lips blew a cooling breath on the surface of the tea. The steam swirled and dissipated, leaving a clear view of her perfect face.

  Snap.

  “Got it.” Robbie showed her the phone screen. “Check out how blue your eyes look in this diffused lighting.”

  “My turn,” Anabelle said. Next to Keira, Anabelle held her miniature teacup with steamed milk and whipped cream in front of her mouth. It was the first time she stopped smiling all day. Except for the teacup ride. Not much smiling there.

  “Hang on a sec.” With his fingertip, he swiped a bit of whipped cream from her cup and dotted her nose with it. He clicked a picture.

  In it, her eyes were crossed, staring at the end of her nose in the cutest way.

  “Perfect.”