Child on His Doorstep (Rescue Haven)

by Lee Tobin McClain

  “Let’s have at it.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and led her into his office where he had a design table and several helpful programs on his computer.

  As they watched some videos about floats and talked about what would show off Rescue Haven to best advantage, Corbin found himself laughing often, joking around, relaxing. Watching her.

  He had had a crush on her since he was a high school senior, but he hadn’t really known her well back then. Now, he realized that she was quirky and funny, with lots of energy and a good work ethic. Put that together with how nurturing she was of Mikey, and how she stepped in gamely to help him adopt a giant dog, and the package was hard to resist.

  “I love the idea of the flashing lights and moving sign,” she said, looking over the rough drawing he’d pushed across the table to her, “but I’ll definitely need a lot of help with this. Are you sure you and the boys are going to be willing to work on something this detailed? And have the time?”

  She didn’t know how willing. “Of course. It will be a good project for the boys. They’ll learn a lot from working on it. And the more they can have a sense of buy-in at Rescue Haven, the better.”

  She was looking at him with head tilted, eyes steady. “You really care about that program, don’t you?”

  He nodded. “They do good work.”

  “So do you.”

  The praise, along with the admiring way she looked at him, went straight to his heart. He shouldn’t do it, but he reached out and pushed back a strand of her hair.

  Her breath hitched and the pulse in her neck throbbed rhythmically, but she didn’t look away.

  Urgency rose in him as he looked into those gray-green eyes fringed by thick lashes. There was something in the back of his head reminding him that this was a really bad idea, but he couldn’t really remember why.

  Right now, on this night, it seemed like a great idea to take a step closer, to let his thumb rub along her soft cheek. Her skin felt hot beneath his hand. And when she closed her eyes and tilted her head back, just a little bit, it seemed like an even better idea to kiss her.

  Chapter Nine

  As Corbin’s lips brushed gently over hers, Samantha’s heart started a steady, pounding rhythm.

  His lips were firm, making her want to melt into him, taking her breath away.

  He lifted his head and looked at her, his brow wrinkling with concern. “Is this okay?” He didn’t move an inch, just watched and waited for her response.

  A true gentleman, and that awakened something in her that was deeper than simple attraction. Men had pulled her into their arms before, men had kissed her, but that had been kid stuff compared to how deep and rich and right it felt to be here, now, with Corbin.

  She sucked in a breath. It wasn’t okay, wasn’t a good idea at all, but she wanted him to keep kissing her. So she nodded and let her hand rest, just lightly, against his broad, strong chest.

  “Good, because I don’t want to stop.” He kissed her again, a little deeper and longer and slower this time, and now the rhythm of her heart sped up until it felt like it was knocking against her ribs.

  He smelled clean and fresh, and his touch was gentle but assured as he rested one hand on her shoulder and cupped the back of her head with the other. Then he slid his arm around her and pulled her against him. His embrace gave her a feeling of security, like she could rest there, like he could protect her.

  She hadn’t expected Corbin to be this masterful, to know exactly how to kiss a woman. She hadn’t expected his strong arms around her to feel so fantastic, hadn’t realized how much she wanted to let go of her worries and just be in the moment with this man.

  You can’t get involved. He doesn’t know about Cheryl.

  But that was okay, wasn’t it? Corbin was so logical and realistic. He would understand why she’d done what she’d done, wouldn’t he?

  Besides, she was tired of making good choices and doing the adult thing. She laced her fingers behind his neck and tugged him a little closer.

  “Samantha,” he said, opening his eyes and looking into hers. “What are you doing to me?”

  “I could ask the same question,” she murmured. She didn’t want him to stop, because she knew that if they did stop, they would both think better of what they were doing. So she raised up on tiptoes and brushed his mouth again.

  The office was quiet, fragrant with the smell of the candle she’d set to burning after the quick dinner they’d prepared together. The sun had set, turning the sky outside the window a deep purple.

  The world of Rescue Haven and the town and the university, her history here, all of it seemed to recede, leaving only this moment with Corbin.

  A car went by, its stereo pounding out a loud vibration that brought Boomer to his feet, barking his deep bark. They stepped apart. Samantha rubbed Boomer and praised him while Corbin checked outside. And then she looked at him and he was looking back at her, and the moment felt confusing and awkward. “This is the kind of time I could use a drink,” she quipped nervously.

  Corbin’s face fell. “Right.” He stared at the ground for a moment, and then met her eyes. “That, what just happened, probably wasn’t a good idea. I think I’m going to head upstairs. I’m sorry about...” He waved a hand toward the spot where they’d stood kissing. “Sorry about that.”

  He was gone before she could even respond to him, and the sense of loss she felt turned her bones to jelly. She sank down into a kitchen chair.

  “It’s just you and me, Boomer,” she said, grateful for the large dog leaning against her.

  Yes, that had been a mistake. Hadn’t it?

  But why had Corbin gone from warm to cold so quickly?

  * * *

  The next morning, things got worse.

  Samantha walked across the church parking lot and into the sanctuary through a gray drizzle. How had everything gone so wrong?

  Of course, she hadn’t slept well last night, torn between worrying about the repercussions of the kiss and remembering how wonderful it had felt. When she’d come down to fix breakfast, Corbin had been sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee. His eyes, dark with shadows, suggested he hadn’t slept well, either. He’d taken off his glasses and rubbed them when she had come in, then looked at her. “Good, I was hoping to see you before church. Why don’t you take a couple of days off.”

  His abrupt words, not a question but a sort of command, startled her. “Why?”

  “We’ve been overworking you.” He didn’t look at her. “You haven’t had a day off since you started.”

  She tipped her head and crossed her arms and studied him until he met her eyes. “Is that the real reason?” she asked.

  He looked away, looked back, paused and then spoke. “Last night shows what can happen when we spend too much time together, and Samantha, that’s not the direction I want to go. So I think it’s best if we get a little distance.”

  “Oh.” It was all she could get out while her insides processed what felt like a crushing blow. “Do you mind if I go to church, or will that make you feel uncomfortable? I don’t mean ride with you,” she added quickly. “Just go to, you know, the same church as you and Mikey.”

  “Go, go, that’s fine.” He waved a hand in a way that felt dismissive.

  Like he couldn’t wait for her to get out of there.

  So here she was at church because she didn’t know what else to do, where else to go. She was early, so maybe she could spend a few minutes praying quietly in a back pew, getting herself together.

  The sanctuary was still dim and fairly empty, and she sidled into a back corner pew. She bowed her head and tried to talk to God, but her worries and hurt feelings didn’t seem to want to take the form of a prayer.

  Why had Corbin gone so cold on her? She hadn’t been the one to initiate that kiss, had she? Hadn’t he been into it as much as she was? May
be even more?

  Of course, men were a little more ruled by their hormones than their emotions. She knew that all too well from her dating history before she’d become a Christian. Since then, she’d gotten more careful and aware.

  But Corbin was a man, just like any other.

  Maybe Corbin was physically attracted to her, but upon reflection, realized he wasn’t interested in any other way but the physical. Corbin was too much of a gentleman to pursue a relationship on that basis alone.

  Had the emotional connection she’d felt with him been completely one-sided, though? The way they’d looked at each other, the way they’d worked together to get Mikey settled into his new life, their conversations and fun times at home...had it meant nothing to him?

  He’d valued her opinion that Mikey should get a dog, had helped her design the float, had seemed genuinely angry at how Jack had treated her. She’d thought it meant they were having a healthy, full, growing relationship, had started to think that maybe they could get past Cheryl’s deception and build something.

  But who was she kidding? It wasn’t just Cheryl’s deception, it was Samantha’s deception, too. And Corbin was honorable, yes, but he was also stern. If he learned of the deceit, he was likely to be very, very upset.

  He was likely to judge her. So maybe limiting their relationship now was God’s way of keeping them both from getting badly hurt.

  The problem was, she already felt badly hurt.

  A hand came down on her shoulder, accompanied by the smell of expensive perfume. “May I join you, dear?”

  Mrs. Markowski. Samantha didn’t really want company, but what could she say? Besides, she couldn’t feel much worse than she already did. “Of course you can join me,” she said, and moved down the pew to make space for Mrs. Markowski to sit.

  The older woman slipped into the pew beside her, impeccably clad in a teal skirt and jacket, makeup perfect. Samantha was suddenly conscious that she hadn’t changed into church clothes. She was wearing jeans and a flowered blouse. Not terrible, especially since this church welcomed everyone regardless of how casually they dressed, but still, she felt self-conscious. She’d also neglected to put on makeup, and her hair was back in a careless ponytail. Beside Mrs. Markowski, she definitely felt frumpy.

  “How are you settling in?” Mrs. Markowski asked.

  Was she being kind? Or nosy? It was hard to tell. “I’m doing fine, thank you,” Samantha said. Bland and noncommittal seemed like the way to go, given the power Mrs. Markowski had over her future.

  Although that future had gotten a little more bleak this morning when Corbin had gone so very cold.

  “Living with Corbin is working out okay?” That definitely sounded more on the nosy side.

  “It’s been convenient living in Corbin’s spare suite, since I’m caring for Mikey while Corbin works,” she said carefully. If Mrs. Markowski was the type to judge—and she definitely seemed to be—then Samantha wanted to make their chaste living arrangements crystal clear.

  At least, the living arrangements had seemed chaste, until things had taken a more romantic turn last night.

  But this morning, everything had U-turned back to an impersonal, employer-employee relationship.

  Sharp eyes seemed to probe into hers.

  Samantha looked away. She felt completely ill-equipped to cope with the older woman’s prying.

  “How about the float?” Mrs. Markowski asked. “Are you making progress?”

  Samantha tried to focus. Yes, that was what was important. The float. Because it meant that she could stay here in town. Although she couldn’t exactly remember why she had wanted to. If Corbin was going to act like he didn’t want her around, staying in town was suddenly a lot less appealing. And that opened her eyes to one of the major reasons she’d wanted to stay, consciously or not.

  Mrs. Markowski was looking at her expectantly.

  She forced herself to speak pleasantly. “It’s coming along well,” she said. “We have the basic design, and the Rescue Haven boys are going to help out with it.”

  “That’s fine then. We should set up a meeting soon to go over what you’ve done so far.” The older woman made no motion to leave.

  “Is there something in particular you’re worried about?” Samantha blurted out the words and then wished she hadn’t. But there was some kind of innuendo and what Mrs. Markowski was saying, and she didn’t have the patience to try to figure it out, nor to ignore it.

  The older woman studied her. “You have a history in this town,” she said. “I heard about it from my son.”

  Samantha blew out a sigh. Brock Markowski had tormented her at various times during high school, maybe because she’d refused to go out with him. But he was gone now. He would never have a chance to make up for past wrongs, and meanwhile, his mother was grieving. Considering how awful Samantha had felt when she’d miscarried a baby, she knew that losing a child you’d raised must be nearly unbearable. “Brock and I weren’t close,” she said. “In fact, we had our differences. But I’m sure that at least some of what he said was accurate. I made a lot of mistakes back then.”

  Mrs. Markowski swallowed hard and looked away. “So did he,” she said quietly.

  So maybe Mrs. Markowski knew some of Brock’s issues and failings. That might make it even harder to have lost him, before he could work things out and grow up. “I can’t imagine what you went through, losing your son,” she said, her own throat thickening. “I’m so sorry.”

  Mrs. Markowski looked at her sharply, as if gauging her sincerity. Why was that? Had others been less than supportive about her loss, since her son had been unkind to so many people?

  She reached out, thinking to touch Mrs. Markowski’s arm or squeeze her hand, but the other woman turned away and then stood. “I’ll leave you to your prayers,” she said stiffly, and walked away.

  Another encounter gone wrong. Samantha sank back into the pew and slumped down a little, turning her face away from the aisle where a few more early birds were drifting into the church. It would be best to avoid recognition and sit alone today. That felt safer than trying to connect.

  That self-protective isolation felt all too familiar to Samantha. She remembered it from her high school years in this town.

  And now, she felt a yearning she hadn’t had then: to drink the pain away. Something she hadn’t longed to do in months.

  She let her head droop down and closed her eyes and prayed, hard.

  * * *

  Corbin stared in dismay at the muddy paw prints that covered his floor, his pants and Mikey’s entire church outfit.

  When Boomer had stood barking at the door this morning, Corbin had realized it was crucial that the dog go outside quickly. He seemed house-trained, but Corbin still didn’t feel completely secure in that.

  He also hadn’t thought ahead. Hadn’t realized that such a big dog with such a thick long coat would get completely drenched. That Boomer’s paws, like the rest of him, were huge. That the backyard was particularly muddy at this time of spring. And that a very muddy Boomer would bound exuberantly around the kitchen, pausing only to jump up on both Corbin and Mikey.

  They were going to be late to church.

  “Let’s get some towels and clean Boomer off,” he said to Mikey. But that meant that Mikey tromped the mud through the rest of the house, as did Corbin and Boomer. Well, that answered the question of how to spend the afternoon: they would be mopping.

  “Where ’Mantha?” Mikey asked as they rubbed towels over Boomer. Basically rubbing the mud in. So that further answered the question of how to spend Sunday afternoon: they’d be washing the dog.

  “She went to church.” He got Boomer marginally cleaner and gated him in the kitchen, then took Mikey back upstairs for clean pants and shirt.

  He ended up giving Mikey another bath, which made the toddler’s lower lip stick out. Mikey d
idn’t care for baths. “Want ’Mantha,” he said.

  “We’ll see her later.” The truth was, Corbin wanted her, too. Wanted to have her help with Mikey and Boomer, and wanted her cheerful attitude about the whole situation.

  Not to mention that he also wanted to kiss her again. And again, and again.

  Don’t go there. He clenched his jaw and focused on getting Mikey dressed and then changing his own clothes. Yes, laundry for sure this afternoon.

  As Corbin rushed Mikey out the door and drove to the church, he went mentally over his to-do list for the day. He hoped it was long enough to get him and Mikey all the way through the afternoon and evening, with no time to miss Samantha.

  Even when Mikey napped or went to sleep, Corbin could get his schoolwork done. He had plenty of tests to grade. He could work late into the night on them, if he couldn’t sleep.

  Keeping busy, that was the key, he thought as he pulled into the mostly full church parking lot.

  He just didn’t know if there were enough chores and tasks in the world to shut a particular pretty brunette out of his heart.

  Chapter Ten

  As the sanctuary started to fill around her, Samantha lifted her head and breathed in the scent of candles and the feeling of peace.

  An usher came over and handed her a carnation.

  “What’s this for?” she asked, smiling at the elderly man.

  “Happy Mother’s Day, dear,” he said.

  “Oh...thanks,” she said faintly. Mother’s Day. How could she have forgotten?

  Partly, she’d forgotten because she didn’t have a mother to buy a card for or send flowers to. And she didn’t have a baby. Pain wrapped around her as she clutched the undeserved flower.

  The service started and the theme was “A Mother’s Love.”

  It was nice that the pastor acknowledged that there were many ways to mother, and that the notion of motherhood could bring pain to some. Like those who’d lost a mother—check—or lost a child—check—or wanted a child and couldn’t have one. Check again, though that latter was simply because she didn’t have the man or relationship that would make it possible to become a real mother.