скачать книгу бесплатно
Because you owe her.
And he’d promised to help Hallie with them, which meant meals, baths, story time—everything that set worry in Ginny’s eyes. It meant him helping with the jobs she’d outlined. It meant staying the night if she wasn’t released.
It meant acting like a parent.
Sweat streamed from his pores.
God, why had he volunteered? Why hadn’t he told her he’d hire a dependable woman to replace Hallie when his niece went home for the night? He wasn’t cut out to play nursemaid or daddy or babysitter, or whatever else looking after kids entailed. Hell, Ginny divorced him for the very reason he now sat in front of her home. Well, not exactly for that reason, but close.
The bottom line was he hadn’t wanted kids. And she was the mothering kind.
The door of the house opened. A boy stood gawking at him. Her son. What was his name? Allan? Alex? Yeah, like Alex, but more…Russian. Wasn’t there a hockey player with the name? Alexei. Yeah, that was it. Except she’d pronounced it Ah-lek-say.
Luke stepped from the car. He raised a hand in greeting. “Hey, Alexei.”
The kid walked to the top of the steps. A big-pawed, black Lab-cross pup bounded through the door and plopped beside him. “Who’re you? Why are you driving my mom’s car?”
Because the thought of driving the Mustang right after it had crashed into Ginny sat like a dirty stone in Luke’s gut. “Your mom asked me to bring home her groceries and to talk with you— Hey, Hallie.”
Luke’s sixteen-year-old niece came through the door, carrying the same curly-haired toddler he’d seen in Ginny’s cart at Safeway last Saturday. “Hi, Uncle Luke. How’s Ginny?”
He came around the hood of the car. “Doing pretty good. She’ll be home in a few hours.” If she convinced the doctor.
“Why can’t she come home now?” Alexei grumbled.
“Well, she’s—”
Hallie set a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “We talked about that, buddy,” she said easily. “Your mom had a little bump on the head and the doctor wants to make sure she’s okay.”
“She will be, right?” Alexei’s eyes rounded on Hallie and for a second Luke tasted the kid’s fear.
“You bet,” Hallie confirmed.
“No doubt about it,” Luke added, hoping on top of hope.
The boy swung around. Accusation sharpened his eyes. “Then why didn’t you leave her car at the hospital?”
“She can’t drive,” Luke said amiably. “And her groceries need a refrigerator. Want to help carry them in?”
“Daee?” The baby pointed a wet finger at Luke.
“No.” Alexei grabbed her hand. “That is not Daddy.”
The toddler squirmed in Hallie’s arms, reaching for Luke. “Daee!”
“No, Josie,” Alexei repeated. “No-ot Daddy.”
Joselyn’s face scrunched. “Daee,” she cried. “Daaeee!” Her little legs kicked as she held her arms toward Luke, almost unbalancing Hallie. Fat tears plumped in the baby’s eyes.
Luke’s heart beat behind his tongue. The kid’s going to fall. Before he could think, he lifted her from Hallie’s straining arms. “Hey, there,” he said.
Joselyn latched on to him, a tenacious koala cub. Tiny hands gripped the first part they touched: his hair and neck.
“Easy does it.” Her sharp little nails would leave their mark. She was heavier than he’d expected. A warm, sweaty bundle. “I’m not your daddy, Josie-Lyn,” he soothed, patting her back awkwardly, “but if you’ll be quiet now, I’ll hold you, okay?”
Alexei scowled. “It’s Joselyn.”
“Oh.” Luke felt like a fifth-grader unable to wrap his tongue around aluminum.
The child cuddled her head on his shoulder. Her fingers eased on his flesh and scalp.
She smelled of sweetness, of innocence. God, what if he dropped her? Or squeezed too hard? He knew zilch about babies. Had never wanted to find out. Ah, Ginny.
Hallie laughed. “Relax, Uncle Luke.” She stroked Joselyn’s soft curls and smiled up at him. “Looks like you’ve got a friend for life.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Alexei’s eyes dared defiance. He stomped into the house, the pup galloping behind. Seconds later an inside door slammed.
“What’s got into him?” Luke asked as he jiggled Joselyn in his arms.
“Oh, don’t mind Alexei. He’s worried about his mom. Guess I would be, too, if my dad just died.”
Luke and Hallie carried ten bags of groceries into Ginny’s kitchen. The melted ice cream had to be tossed down the sink. The milk and yogurt still smelled and tasted okay, but a frozen chicken had partially thawed: tomorrow’s supper. If he had time tonight, he’d buy her several new packs of frozen vegetables.
Joselyn dogged Luke. She clung to his legs when he stood still, and toddled after him with tears in her eyes when he moved around the kitchen island helping Hallie store the groceries. He was terrified he would step on the baby.
Alexei holed up in his room.
After setting the table, Luke walked down the hall, Joselyn at his heels. Nerves tight—what did he know about ten-year-old boys?—he knocked on the door Hallie had pointed out. “Alexei?”
No answer.
Luke cracked open the door. The kid sat at a computer. Under his chair lay the pup, gnawing on an old shoe.
“Supper’s ready.”
“Go away.”
Joselyn pushed past Luke’s legs. “Ep-say. Um!”
Alexei swiveled in his chair. “Who asked you, huh?”
Halfway across the floor, the little girl stopped. She looked back at Luke. Her bottom lip poked out. His heart took a slow revolution.
“I don’t care if you dislike me, boy,” he said mildly. “Just don’t take it out on your sister.”
The kid scowled. “Leave me alone. You’re not my father.”
The words struck. Hard. If he and Ginny hadn’t… “No,” Luke said and inhaled an unfamiliar regret. “Nor am I trying to be. But I’m sure your father taught you some manners. You forgot them already?”
Alexei blinked. His cheeks flushed. He faced the computer screen. “I’m busy.”
Sometimes it was easier to simply do, rather than discuss. That much he’d learned from watching his brothers with their kids. Luke walked to the computer and punched Power.
“Hey! That’s not how you shut off a computer.”
“Pretend an electrical storm hit a line. Now, come to supper. It’s not polite to let Hallie wait.” He strode out of the room.
Joselyn toddled after him. “Daee!”
Damn. How could he convince this tyke he wasn’t her father, didn’t want to be her father, or anyone else’s father?
Waiting in the hallway, he watched her rush toward him in a waddling run, arms upheld. Resigned, he picked her up and headed to the kitchen. “There, there.” He patted her little spine. “No one’s going to leave you behind.”
“Alexei coming?” Hallie asked. She had prepared a quick meal of ravioli, toasted garlic bread, salad and corn on the cob.
“Dunno.” At the moment, Luke didn’t much care. Well, he did, but he had no clue on how to handle a prepubescent’s attitude. Thing was, Alexei reminded Luke of himself at that age—lugging a monstrous chip on his shoulder and a snarl on his lips.
A thread of kinship with the boy tugged Luke’s heart.
He lowered Joselyn to the floor as he sat down at the table. The baby immediately climbed his knees, wanting his lap. Lifting her, Luke let her settle, her dumpling weight suddenly welcome.
Hallie mashed the ravioli for the baby, then spooned a few kernels of corn onto her plate. “Mix those in.” His niece handed Luke a minuscule, round-tined fork.
He stared at the foreign utensil between his big, clumsy fingers. How the hell did you feed a sixteen-month-old baby with something so ridiculously dwarf-sized?
Before he could maneuver the instrument, Joselyn grabbed it from his hand and stabbed the mixture on her plate.
Okay. That’s how.
Luke watched the child feed herself. A corn kernel plopped onto her bib and she carefully picked it off with elfin fingers. The scent of the simple meal made his stomach growl. He looked around. Toys were scattered across the floor. A pair of women’s ice-blue shoes waited near the back door. This is how a home should be, he thought and sat in stunned awe.
Minutes ago, the idea would have been lost on him. Growing up under the rule of Maxine Tucker’s sharp tongue, he’d learned early that family did not mean Mayberry reruns. Going to bed at night didn’t ensure tuck-ins or children’s Bible stories. If his toys had ventured more than ten feet from their toy box on a day his father wasn’t home, Maxine might have slapped him upside the head while she railed all his inadequacies in her drunken slur.
And she damn well never let him sit on her lap—not that he could recall.
Hail to home, sour home.
Then he’d met Ginny. Sweet, loving Ginny, who would have given her right arm to have a family.
Luke surveyed the clutter on the floor. Looks like you got your wish, Gin.
But not with him. No, he’d been too set on beating Maxine’s taunts out of his head. “You’ll never amount to a hill of beans.” Ha. He’d proven her wrong, hadn’t he? Not that she even knew. Hell, seeing each other across the street every five years was about as much of a family reunion as it would get between them.
Alexei shuffled into the kitchen. The pup gamboled at his heels. The boy slid onto the chair a table length from Luke, and looked only at his plate.
Something about the kid’s sullen face annoyed Luke. He might have been looking at himself at ten. Hold your head up, he wanted to demand. Don’t take a backseat to anyone.
But he said nothing. Alexei wasn’t his responsibility.
Except for Joselyn sucking her tiny forefinger with each bite and humming her food away, they ate in silence.
That evening, a nurse helped Ginny gather her belongings, and pull on the blue skirt Luke had brought in a bag from home. The jeans she’d worn into town would not fit over her cast.
Dr. Stearns had been reluctant to release her unless another adult stayed at home with her throughout the night. She’d had a mild concussion, after all. Ginny promised the good man there would be someone. Who, she wasn’t sure. She’d find an off-duty nurse, anyone, just so she could be with her children.
Outside the room’s window, a heliotrope sunset animated the landscape. A robin sought worms in the patch of grass between the twenty-bed hospital and its parking lot. On the topmost branch of a walnut tree, two crows squabbled.
Life, plodding on.
She’d phoned the children; their excitement wet her eyes.
She’d called a cab—and argued with Luke over her decision.
Two hours ago he’d slipped into her room carrying a bag stuffed with French onion soup and a sumptuous vegetarian concoction that tasted of Mexico—again from Kat’s Kitchen. Afterward, the nurse had shooed him out with the excuse Ginny needed an hour’s sleep. She’d lain awake wondering what on earth he’d wanted. To assuage his guilt over hitting her with his car? To talk over old times? Be friends? Once he’d been her closest friend, her soul mate.
Since then she’d come to realize that in a world of billions, a soul mate wasn’t necessarily your one true love. Soul mates could be sisters, mothers, friends or a husband you loved simply because he was who he was.
Like Boone.
The nurse pushed a wheelchair to the side of the bed, checking Ginny’s train of thought. “Let’s get you in this.”
“It’s okay. I can walk. I just need my purse and crutches.”
“Hospital policy, honey. We don’t want you fainting before you get out of here.”
Ginny laughed and it felt good. “I’m not the fainting type.”
Determined, the older woman nodded to the chair. “Indulge us and enjoy the ride.”
Ginny sighed. The nurse helped her into the wheelchair, arranged her purse and crutches then lifted the sunflowers from the windowsill.
“Oh,” Ginny said with a twinge of regret. “Could you leave them at the nurses’ station?”
The woman’s eyes widened. “You don’t like them?”
I do. But I’m not comfortable accepting a gift from my ex-husband. “Let them brighten the hospital.” She softened her objection with a smile.
“All right.” Reluctantly, the woman replaced the vase. “Do you mind if I give them to Mrs. Arken instead? She’ll be in here for another couple of weeks.”
“That would be nice.”
They wheeled from the room and down the Lysol-scrubbed corridor.
“Looks like your ride’s waiting.” The nurse chuckled. “Got another batch of flowers for you.”
Ginny could see that. Luke stood waiting in the hospital’s admittance center, a wicker basket of ferns, ivy and African violets balanced on one big palm. Her pulse leaped—though she couldn’t determine if it was due to the cut and shape of his chinos and green polo shirt, or her irritation that she’d need to cancel her taxi.
“Don’t you have some files to review?” she grumbled.
