Then he got a good look at Daisy, and his jaw tightened. He raised his eyes and met Elisa’s.
With a quick shake of her head, she caught her daughter and slipped one of Tucker’s black T-shirts over her. Swathed in the ankle-length shirt, Daisy raced across the room to him.
“You look a lot better, Miss Daisy. All ready for bed,” he said hopefully.
Elisa reached for her, but Daisy drew back. “I want Tut.”
“Honey—”
Tucker held up a hand. “It’s okay. I’ll take you up.”
But by the time they got upstairs, she’d changed her mind. “I wanna sleep with my mommy.”
“Not tonight.”
“Are you gonna sleep with my mommy?”
He pushed away the totally inappropriate thoughts that rocketed through his brain. He’d brought Elisa—and this child—home to help them. He’d promised they’d be safe with him, but that big bad wolf Molly’d mentioned made his presence known when he remembered those legs walking toward him at the shop, when he thought about those oh so kissable lips.
Tucker swatted the wolf back into his cave.
“No.” Clearing his throat, he said, “Mommy needs to sleep by herself tonight, remember? But if you need anything, we’ll both hear you.” They stopped just inside Daisy’s bedroom.
“Will you check under my bed?”
“For what?”
Eyes wide, Daisy stood on her tiptoes and motioned for him to lean down. When he did, she whispered, “For the monsters. Mommy always does.”
“But you saw the floor before I pulled down the bed.”
She clapped her hands. “A mooffee bed.”
“Murphy,” he corrected.
“That’s what I said, Tut.” She wrapped her arms around his knees, those big, trusting eyes pleading with him. “Please.”
“Please what?”
She let out an indignant huff. “Please look for the monsters.”
Feeling more than a little silly, Tucker knelt and pulled up the edge of the bedcover. He stayed in place a few seconds to reassure her he’d taken a thorough look. “Nothing here, sweetheart.”
Wordlessly, she pointed at the closet.
Resigned, shoulders slumped, Tucker tiptoed across the room and threw open the door. “Nothing except a pair of shoes and my old baseball glove and bat.”
Daisy let out a breath. “Thank you, Tut.”
“You’re most welcome, Daisy.” He smiled. Not every day a guy got to play hero.
She patted the side of her bed.
Unsure what ritual came next, Tucker crossed the room and sat gingerly on the edge. “What?”
“Down here.” She knelt, folded her little hands, and bowed her head.
Tucker followed suit.
“Now I lay me on my mooffee bed…I can’t ’member, Tut.”
He rubbed the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger. “Now I lay me down to sleep…”
She repeated, and together they finished their prayer. He kissed her forehead, and she hugged him tightly. His heart pinched.
She crawled into bed, and, gently, he pulled up her covers and tucked her in. “Night, Daisy.”
“Night, Tut.” She threw her arms around him in another big hug, then rolled over, one hand tucked beneath her cheek. He stood where he was until, only seconds later, she fell fast asleep. He turned to leave and bumped into Elisa. His arms came out to steady them both. Those soft curves pressed into him.
“Thank you again, Tuck.”
“You’re most welcome.” He drew in a deep breath. “You smell so good.”
One side of her mouth curled in a half-smile. “It’s just soap, Tucker. Your soap.”
He sniffed at her neck. “Smells a whole lot better on you.”
His hand rose to curl one of those long, silky strands around a finger, trying not to think of her in his shower with his soap coursing over that incredible body.
“Night, Elisa,” he whispered.
“Night, Tucker.” She kissed his cheek. “Thank you. For everything.”
He laid a hand on her petal-soft cheek and trailed his fingers along the curve of it, then turned away.
That chaste kiss would dog him into the wee hours of the morning.
He fastened the safety gate and said his own prayer of thanks. What a crazy day.
Creeping down the stairs, he moved the fan he’d aimed at his rug, hoping it would be dry by morning. Even though it was late, he started a fresh cup of coffee. While his machine worked its magic, he rummaged in his junk drawer for the nightlight he’d bought last time his mom and dad had come to visit.
“Aha!” He raced upstairs to plug it in. Daisy might be scared of the dark—and the monsters—if she woke during the night.
Then he took his coffee into the living room. He turned off the light and sat in the darkened room. A swath of moonlight filtered in through the open blinds. His head hurt. Hell, his heart hurt. What had happened to Daisy? When she’d scampered down those stairs, he’d marveled at her innocence and pure joy.
Then he’d seen the scar on her chest. It wasn’t large, but its location chilled his blood.
The third stair from the top creaked, and he glanced up.
Elisa.
She stood stock-still, dressed in another of his black tees. It wasn’t ankle-length on her, though. Nope. A whole lot of leg was exposed. Even in the dim light he could tell she was troubled.
She knew he’d seen the pink ridge on her daughter’s chest.
“Everything okay, Elisa? You doing all right?”
“I’m fine. Today was an anomaly.”
He gave a curt nod. “Okay.” He paused. “You want to tell me about Daisy? About the scar? The one right over her heart.”
“She’s had that since she was only a few weeks old. It’s the reason her daddy left us.”
Tucker half rose from his chair. “Tell me he didn’t do that to her!”
“No. No! Sit down. Please. Daisy was born with a congenital heart defect.” Elisa sat beside him on the sofa, curling those legs beneath her.
Tucker’s stomach plummeted. “She seems so healthy.”
“She is, but she was born with an atrial septal defect. In layman’s terms, that’s a hole between the upper heart chambers. The scar is from a laparoscopic peek at it.”
“Your doctor fixed it?”
Elisa shook her head. “No. A lot of them close on their own, so he felt it best to wait and see. Luke, Daisy’s dad, didn’t wait, though. When she was two weeks old, he left. He called from San Diego to tell me he wouldn’t be coming back, that he hadn’t signed on for a sick kid.”
He reached for her hand. “I’m no expert on love. Hell, I’d be lying if I said I even knew what love is. I’ll tell you this, though. I know what love isn’t, and it isn’t what Daisy’s dad pulled.”
Interlacing their fingers, he drew her closer. “My mom and dad are pretty good examples of love that sticks. Molly and Brant? They’re doing pretty well now, but Molly? She was pretty stubborn.” Tucker met Elisa’s gaze. “Kind of like someone else I know.”
Her mouth opened to deny it, but he shook his head.
“Hey, no sense trying to pretty it up. Seems to me once you make up your mind, it’s a done deal. Nothing wrong with that, I guess, as long as you’re reasonable about it. I sure am sorry about Daisy, though, and about her daddy. I wonder if he has any idea what he’s missing.”
He kissed the top of her head. “You’d better go on up. See if you can catch some sleep. You’ve got another big day tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Tuck, for everything. A roof over our heads, a bed to sleep in, and your understanding.”
“No need to thank me, sugar. Glad I could help.”
She’d already started up the stairs when he asked, “Any
meds she needs to take? Any special precautions?”
“Nope. A doctor’s visit once in a while to listen to her heart. That’s about it.”
“Okay. Good. See you in the morning.”
When he heard her bedroom door close, he walked to the kitchen sink, dumped his coffee, and reached in the fridge for a beer. He’d earned one.
He’d been crazy to bring Elisa home with him. Her and those pouty lips that damn near cried to be kissed and kissed well. Those legs that went on and on. It about killed him imagining them twined around him.
While she was safe here, he darned well wasn’t, because the lady touched something deep inside him that had lain dormant for a long, long time. Something that was best left hidden away.
Chapter 5
Tucker shook himself free of the nightmare’s grip. Sitting straight up in bed, he stared into the darkness, then turned toward the window and the single ray of moonlight. Sweaty and trembling, he breathed raggedly and ran nerveless fingers through his hair. He was a mess.
No need to check the clock. 1:33 a.m. The same time—Huh-uh, he wouldn’t go there.
Tossing back the covers, he pushed himself from bed and started downstairs. With a curse, he went back to his room for a pair of sweats. With two females in the house, he couldn’t run around naked.
He needed a walk or a drive. Time alone to shake off the nightmare.
That wouldn’t happen. Not tonight. Until he knew darned good and well that Elisa was okay, he was stuck here. And wasn’t that a heck of a way to think about her? Still, he’d seen to her problems today. Tonight he had his own to deal with.
Soundlessly, he made his way downstairs, avoiding the creaking third step, and moved into the kitchen for a glass of water. Carrying it with him, he went outside to the back porch. The temperature had dropped considerably.
His hands trembled so badly that he set the water on an upturned crate he used as a temporary table. Burying his head in his hands, he tried to think calm thoughts, tried to push away the faces of his lost friends.
They were bullheaded tonight and refused to recede to the back of his mind.
When the screen door opened, he bolted out of his seat, fists curled.
“It’s me.” Elisa stood in the doorway. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come down, but I heard you and wondered if you were all right.”
Finger by finger, he unfurled them, and let his hands drop to his side. “I told you I’m a night person.”
“You did. I’ll go back to bed.”
“That’s probably a good idea. You don’t want to be around me tonight.”
In the moonlight, he caught the intensity of her gaze.
“I’d rather we were both in our beds fast asleep. But you’re not, so I’m not, either. You helped me. Why am I not allowed to help you?”
“There’s no help for me.”
“I don’t know what to say to that.” With a frown, she turned to leave.
“Wait.” He reached out and laid his hand on her arm. “Sit with me for a bit.”
Without hesitation, she moved to the glider and sat beside him.
Neither spoke for a long time, but slowly, ever so slowly her hand closed the distance to his arm. He draped it around her shoulders and drew her close.
She cuddled into him, making him aware that there were still soft spots in the world. Not everything was hard and cold. At least not right here, right now.
“I don’t know what’s hurting you, Tucker, but I do know you can get through it. You can come out the other side.”
He diverted, the way he always did. “Tell me about you, Elisa. What is it that keeps you up at night?”
She shivered, and he tugged the throw from the back of the glider and spread it over them.
“I’m not sure you want to hear my sad story.”
“Okay, then, tell me what you want more than anything,” he persisted.
In the dark, it was easier to share, to use the night as a shield.
“All right,” she said. “All my life, I’ve wanted the white picket fence, the husband, and two-point-five kids. My version of a fairy tale.”
“It doesn’t have to be.”
She snorted. “But it is, and fairy tales are make-believe. Fiction. My dad has been like some phantom being, always gone because of his career. I wonder sometimes how he and my mother were ever in the same room long enough to conceive me.”
“How about your mother? What’s she like?”
“She’s an anthropologist, and that involves playing in the dirt—in far-flung locations. So, my poor grandmother got stuck with me. When I met Luke, I thought, here it is. My fairy tale.” She grimaced. “I was wrong. The marriage didn’t last long. And I returned to Gram’s—with a baby.”
Tucker said nothing, but her pain all but vibrated in the night air. A firefly flicked on, then off, and he realized her happiness had been every bit as fleeting.
“You’ll have to forgive me if I’m a tad jaded. Apparently, I’m not meant to be a fairy-tale heroine. I lack some key element. Some crucial component.”
Voice gruff, Tucker disagreed. “You lack nothing.”
“If you knew me better, you wouldn’t say that.” She stood. “I’ve always been someone’s burden. And now, tag, you’re it. I’m so sorry.”
Before he could say anything, she hurried inside and up the stairs.
* * *
Morning came way too soon.
In the hallway mirror, he caught sight of his bloodshot eyes and wild hair. If Daisy woke and saw him like this, she’d think the under-the-bed monsters had come to life. He finger-combed his hair, but there was nothing to be done about the eyes. They were what they were.
Itching to sneak out, stop by Tommy’s Texaco for coffee and a ham biscuit, and finish up that Vette, he scolded himself. Not today. Elisa took precedence.
He knocked at her door and heard a muffled sound. “Time to rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty. You have an appointment in just under an hour.”
“Okay.”
When he didn’t hear movement, he knocked again. “You up?”
Her light went on. “I am now.”
“See you downstairs, but remember, nothing to eat or drink.”
“Yes, Doctor Wylder.”
He grinned. So she wasn’t a morning person. Good to know.
“Want me to wake Daisy?” he asked.
“No, thanks. I’ll take care of her.” She yawned. “Sorry.”
Because she couldn’t have any coffee, he didn’t make any for himself. It didn’t seem fair to tease her with the smell.
He watched the clock uneasily. From the sounds upstairs, mother and daughter were both awake, but he hadn’t had visual confirmation yet.
“Elisa? Time to leave,” he called from the bottom of the stairs.
“Coming.” She appeared on the landing holding her daughter’s hand, her purse and Daisy’s bag over one shoulder.
She looked ethereal, so delicate a good gust of wind could blow her away. All that gorgeous blond hair had been pulled back, leaving her flawless features unframed. Those sky-colored eyes met his, and he swore every molecule of oxygen had been sucked out of his house.
Careful, buddy.
He couldn’t afford to get close to either the woman or the child. Things didn’t go well for people he cared about.
They danced around each other awkwardly on the ride, neither quite comfortable with the vulnerability they’d revealed under the cover of darkness.
* * *
Elisa could have kicked herself for confiding so much. Why she’d opened up like that was beyond her. Maybe it was because Tucker had been hurting, too. She didn’t know what ate at him, but it was clear they each fought their own demons.
She’d barely slept last night. She hated doctors and hated needles. To
day she’d face both. As much as she disliked tight spaces, she’d rather they shoot her into an MRI machine than draw blood every thirty to sixty minutes for the next five or six hours. Oh, blubbering whalebones!
Well, by tonight it would be over—if the tests came out okay. She prayed she hadn’t inherited her grandmother’s diabetes. Nondiabetic hypoglycemia? With an early diagnosis, she’d be able to manage it through her diet. Full-blown diabetes? Something altogether different. Huge strides had been made in the fight against the disease, but for the people dealing with it on a day-to-day basis, it remained a battle.
While neither she nor Tucker had much to say, Daisy had no inhibitions and chattered away a mile a minute. Maybe instead of feeling sorry for herself, she should save her sympathies for Tucker. Waking up to the energy of a three-year-old was new to him.
She glanced in the visor mirror. The cookies-and-cream Pop-Tart that apparently constituted Tucker’s version of a healthy breakfast for her daughter was disappearing quickly. Elisa checked in her purse. Yep, plenty of hand wipes.
* * *
The next few hours were a blur of blood-draw after blood-draw. Doctor Hawkins finally released her after nagging her into staying in Misty Bottoms for a few more days and practically force-feeding her crackers and cheese. While Daisy sneaked a couple, Tucker had politely refused any.
Tucker. As bad as Elisa felt, Tucker looked far worse. Daisy, however, after a short nap looked as fresh as a—well, as fresh as a daisy. No doubt she was responsible for much of Tucker’s fatigue.
After a quick stop at the diner for a much-needed lunch, they headed home.
“Listen,” Tucker said. “You feeling okay?”
“Surprisingly, yes. You don’t need to worry about me, Tuck.”
“You keep saying that, but I can’t quite get over yesterday. You scared me. I’m wondering, though, if it’s okay to drop the two of you at the house? I really should give the guys a hand. We’re fast running out of time on a big project.”
“We’ll be fine. And to be perfectly honest, I think you could use a break.”
He smiled sheepishly. “I’d deny it, but frankly, I don’t know how you do it. I have a new and deep respect for Brant. He had temporary sole custody of our nephew and actually survived it.”
I've Got You, Babe Page 6
