He pulled into the drive and helped Elisa out, then released Daisy from her seat.
“I’m gonna change my clothes before I head out. First, though, Daisy and I need to take a little hike out back.”
Elisa’s forehead creased in question.
“Something we need to do. It’s a secret.”
“Okay.” She gathered Daisy’s things and went inside while her daughter and Tucker walked around back.
* * *
The minute they rounded the house, Daisy jumped up and down, clapping.
“How’d you know, Tut?”
“Know what?”
“To put them here for me?” She waved her hand toward the daisies.
He hadn’t really looked at the flowers closely. Now this little girl believed he’d planted them for her. Childhood was, indeed, magical.
Too bad growing up tainted that.
Feeling like an idiot, Tucker walked inside a few minutes later with Daisy—who was all but strangling the wildflowers clutched in her hand.
Seeing her mother, Daisy raced across the room, the daisies held out in front of her.
“Wow! How pretty.”
“Tut has a whole bunch of them. For me.”
He swore he saw stars in the child’s eyes. “I—” He shook his head.
The slow grin that crossed Elisa’s face said it all. She understood.
“We picked them by the water but Tut wouldn’t let me get close ’cause you love me too much.” She jumped onto the sofa and snuggled up to her mom.
Tucker tried not to wince at the dirty little sneakers. A smidgen of uninvited envy crept through him as he watched the mother-daughter reunion.
“I love you, Mommy.” She turned those big blue eyes on Tucker. “Tut?”
“What?”
“Aren’t you going to tell Mommy you love her, too?”
“I—” He opened his mouth, closed it again. “Sure.”
“Tell her!”
Elisa saved him. “It’s okay, honey. He’s already showed that by taking care of us, so thank you, Tuck. For everything. We’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can make arrangements to rent a car.”
“No, ma’am.” Awkwardly, he dipped his hands in his jeans pockets. “I was there when Doc Hawkins said it would take a day or two to get your results back. He wants to see you regulated before you hit the road.” Tucker thought of his long-awaited fishing trip. The one that wouldn’t happen. Well, there’d be another time. “You should plan on staying at least through the weekend.”
“I don’t need—”
“Yes, you do. If you knew how to take care of yourself, you wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Her mouth dropped open, and her eyes narrowed.
“Ruffled your feathers? Good. Use that anger to get this under control. Eat right today, get on your laptop and do some research. Let’s be proactive.” He ran a hand over the stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave. “I won’t be home till late. Sure you can manage?”
“I have for quite a while now.”
“Understood. Now understand this—we all need a little help once in a while, darlin’.” He thought of the friends he’d left behind in the Middle East, the ones who’d returned stateside in flag-draped caskets. His heartbeat quickened and he took a steadying breath, searched for a sliver of calm. “It’ll all work out.”
He wasn’t at all sure if the reassurance was meant for her…or for himself.
“Before I forget, Brant called. He apologized again for not bringing your suitcases last night, but he dropped them off this morning. They’re in your bedroom.”
And that, he thought, would be good for both of them. Tonight, she could sleep in her own nightie rather than his T-shirt. Although she sure looked good in it—a little too good for his comfort.
“He found a box, too, in your trunk.”
“That would be some pictures and a few keepsakes. I left most of our things with a cousin.”
“Good that he brought it, then.” He gave Daisy a noisy cheek-kiss. “’Bye, sugar.”
Then, just for the hell of it, he leaned in and dropped a kiss on Elisa’s cheek. She blushed, Daisy giggled, and he walked out the door with a smug grin on his face.
A second later, he stuck his head back inside. “One question. Does Daisy have any allergies?”
“Allergies?”
“Molly and Brant are going to Savannah for her mom’s birthday. I kind of promised to d-o-g sit.”
“She loves d-o-gs,” Elisa spelled back. “The one that was here last night?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, you’ll have your hands full.”
Daisy’s head swiveled back and forth at the spelling. “I wanna see your hands, Tut.”
Puzzled, he held them out.
“They’re not full, Mommy.”
Tucker smiled. “Smart kid, there, Mom.”
Elisa simply shook her head.
“Anyway,” Tucker said, “I’ll take him to work with me so you won’t have to put up with him during the day. He’s kind of our shop d-o-g, and as you’ve undoubtedly noticed, is still learning his manners.”
“Me too.” Daisy rolled her baby-blues. “Mommy tells me that a lot.”
Tucker chuckled. “Mamas do that. A lot.”
“Does your mommy?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“I’m not a ma’am. I’m too little.”
“A little girl who’s a cutie.” He swung her up over his head, and she giggled. “Give me a hug. I have to go to work. For real this time.”
“’Kay.” Her little arms wrapped around his neck.
“’Bye, squirt.”
He hesitated in the front yard. His house had gone from quiet and, yeah, kind of cold to vibrant and full of life. Thinking of Daisy, he shook his head. Were all children so wired? So curious?
Did they all come with sexy mamas with the biggest, bluest eyes?
Through the door, he heard Daisy’s squeal of happiness and could only imagine what was happening inside his no longer neat and perfect home.
* * *
Craving a cup of tea, Elisa opened the pantry door. Shell-shocked, she stared at the shelves. Not wanting to snoop in his cupboards, she’d had Molly retrieve everything she’d needed for last night’s beans, so this was her first peek. Every single item had been carefully placed in regimented order. Containers were lined up and labeled.
Narrowing her eyes, she closed the door and opened one cupboard after another. Oh my gosh. Could anybody be this anal? Maintain this? She’d dug into things and organized before—and it had lasted an entire day or two. She had a sneaking suspicion Tucker’s always looked like this.
Following a hunch, she walked outside and opened the door to a small garage.
It had been turned into a woodworking shop, and, yes, everything had a place and was in it. A pegboard hung over a meticulously arranged workbench. Tucker had outlined and labeled every spot on the board. Each tool had its own space.
Holy Organizer, Batman!
On a second workbench she spotted a beautiful porch swing. It wasn’t quite finished, but when she ran her hand along the slats, the wood felt smooth as silk.
How in the world could she and Daisy survive here? The bigger question: How would Tucker survive them being here? She was neat, but this went so far beyond neat she doubted even Webster had a word for it.
And yet, hadn’t he plopped Daisy down at the counter and fed her a sticky PB&J sandwich? Watched as blobs of grape jelly splattered his pristine countertop?
He had—and had immediately cleaned it up.
She grinned. Actually, this might be fun—and that was mean of her. Still…
Chapter 6
Gaven was carefully attaching the iconic gas cap cover on the spine of the ’63 Vette when
Tucker arrived. Shooting a meaningful glance at the clock, he growled, “You’re so late I’m not sure why you even bothered coming in.”
“Yeah, well, I had to take Elisa in for her tests.”
“What?” Gaven stepped away from the car. “Elisa? What have you done, Tucker?”
“Brant didn’t tell you?”
“He never tells me anything.”
Hands dug deep into his black denim pockets, Tucker ’fessed up.
“You kept them? A woman and her kid’s not quite the same as draggin’ home a stray puppy or a kitten, Tuck.”
“No, it isn’t.” He covered a yawn.
“This is the same guy who wouldn’t let his own brother live with him?” Gaven asked. “The guy who made me rent a falling-down house?”
“You chose that house.”
“It’s cheap.”
“That’s so you.”
“Can’t argue that.” Gaven slid the screwdriver back and forth between his fingers.
“Besides, they’re not living with me. It’s a very temporary arrangement. I can’t put Elisa on the road until I know she’s okay. Not with Daisy. And her car’s a wreck. A wreck that doesn’t run.”
“Not our problem.” Gaven pointed at the sports car. “This is our problem.”
“And we’ll have it done in time.”
“Listen and listen good, big brother. You need to get that chick out of your house and fast.”
“Not till we get the results back from this morning.”
“She’ll start nesting.”
“No, she won’t. She’s passing through.” He tugged at his right ear. “I have a favor to ask.”
“No way!”
“I didn’t even ask yet.”
“You don’t need to. Two females in your house with all their stuff? They’re driving Mr. Neat Freak crazy. I’m not takin’ them.”
Tucker began unwrapping one of the new old-stock door handles. “I don’t want you to.”
“Fine. We’re good, then.”
“No, I still have a favor to ask.”
Gaven sighed. “Shoot.”
“How about you keep Lug Nut while Molly and Brant are out of town?”
“Huh-uh. No way. You agreed to do it.”
“Under duress.”
“Doesn’t matter. He’s yours,” Gaven said.
“I’ve kind of got a houseful right now.”
“One dog’s not gonna make much difference.”
“Says you.”
Gaven grinned. “Yeah, says me.”
Tucker dropped the door handle onto the tool bench. “Think I’ll go finish up a few invoices.”
“What?” Gaven tightened the last screw. Rubbing a polishing cloth over it, he said, “Forget the invoices. If we’re gonna have this finished by Friday, I need your help.”
“Payback’s hell.” Tucker started to walk away.
“Remember that when Murdoch shows up and finds an unfinished car. It’s not Gaven Wylder who will take the hit. It’ll be Wylder Rides.”
Tucker cursed, picked up the handle, and hunkered down to work.
“Hey, Bro?”
“Yeah?”
“I know how badly you needed this weekend at Nate’s cabin. Have you talked to his parents lately?”
“No.” Tucker stared at the fluorescent lighting overhead. “Last time I showed up at their door, his mom practically needed to be sedated. It’s hard on them to see me. I’m no good for them. No good for anybody right now.”
Gaven put his hand on Tucker’s shoulder. “Not true, Brother. We love you.” He gave his brother’s head a knuckle-rub. “And if anybody asks, I’ll deny that.”
Tucker took a swat at him, and Gaven danced away laughing.
Finished with the second handle, Tucker gave his attention to the turn signal, which seemed a little lazy. Once he had it working right, he decided to tackle the hood ornament. It was nowhere in sight.
“I thought Brant ordered the hood ornament. You know where it is?”
“I don’t have the foggiest idea.”
“I need it.”
“Understood,” Gaven said.
After scouring the place and not finding it, Tucker asked, “You willing to hop on the computer or phone and see if you can track one down in Savannah? Drive down to pick it up?”
“As great as the outside looks, the inside has to be right, too. You know that as well as me. I’m in the middle of getting ready to paint under the hood.”
“I know, but I can’t leave right now.”
Out of patience, Gaven tossed a rubber mallet. It bounced off the counter and hit a metal can.
Tucker, not quite steady after last night’s violent dreams, flung himself to the floor. On his knees, he stopped and pulled himself together, cursing furiously.
“Damn, Tuck, I’m sorry. I forget sometimes.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Embarrassed, Tucker turned his back. “I stumbled. Period.”
“Yeah.” Gaven rubbed the back of his neck. “High spot in the concrete there,” he lied. “We should probably grind it down.”
“Yep.” Tucker breathed in. His brother was willing to cover for him. Again. He felt sick to his stomach. “You gonna hop on finding that part?”
“Yeah.”
After Gaven walked into the office, Tucker moved to the workbench and placed his hands flat on it, palms down. He took slow, measured breaths like the military doc had told him to do.
Gradually he felt a little calmer, but it did nothing to bring Nate and the others back.
* * *
By the time Wednesday rolled around, Tucker swore his life had jumped the rails. With Brant gone, he and Gaven were working flat-out. Gaven had finished painting the inside of the hood yesterday, so Tucker mounted the hood ornament. That crisis had been solved by Gaven who’d kept his head and called Brant, who’d admitted to leaving it on his kitchen counter.
During lunch, Tucker took a few minutes to call home. It turned out Hawkins had already phoned with the test results: nondiabetic hypoglycemia. As long as Elisa watched her diet, she’d be okay, but he’d asked her to stay in town a couple more days to be on the safe side.
All good news. The sooner Elisa got her life under control, the sooner Tucker’s would return to normal—and the sooner he’d wave goodbye to Daisy and her mama. Why did that make his heart heavy? It was what he wanted. What he needed.
At seven thirty, Tucker called it quits. Bone-weary from the hours spent on the car restoration and very little sleep, he slid behind the wheel of his Mustang. Yawning, he leaned his head against the car seat and closed his eyes—for just a couple of seconds, he promised himself.
Lug Nut licked his chin.
“Argh. Get your ugly face out of mine, dog.” He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth. “Aren’t you supposed to ride in the back?”
The overgrown pup grinned at him but didn’t budge.
“Okay, okay.” He shook a finger at the dog. “But if you’re going home with me, we have to set some rules. For a starter, no more kisses.”
Lug Nut gave a quiet little bark, and they pulled out of the parking area.
Brant had dropped both the hood ornament and the dog off at the shop on their way out of town yesterday. Tucker had left the pup at the shop last night, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that two nights in a row. Since Elisa insisted Daisy would be okay with Lug Nut, Tucker would give it a try. “You chew up one thing at the house and you’re gone. Understood?”
The pup yapped in agreement.
“Okay, then.”
Tucker rolled down the passenger window partway, and the pup poked his head out, ears flapping in the wind, an expression of pure ecstasy on his face.
Ashamed to admit the reason for it even to himself, Tuck
er stole a few minutes for a ride down by the river. He craved some alone time and knew from past experience that when he didn’t get it, he could turn ugly. Rather than subject Elisa to that side of him, he’d carve out twenty minutes for himself.
Then he’d phone in an order to Dee-Ann’s Diner, so everybody’d get fed tonight. He’d refused Elisa’s offer to cook. Regardless of the circumstances, she was a guest.
The river was peaceful, the early autumn air soft. Not too far from the bank, a fish jumped and Tucker promised himself he’d toss his pole in the trunk for the next time.
“Okay, bud, time to go.” Ruffling the dog’s head, Tucker turned the Mustang around and headed home with a quick stop to pick up dinner.
When he pulled up in front of his old stone building, he studied it. He was used to coming home to darkness. Emptiness. Tonight, lights glowed in the windows, and he could almost hear Daisy’s high-pitched voice and laughter, smell her mama’s fresh, floral scent.
Temporary, he reminded himself. Both the good and the bad of it.
He turned off the ignition, took a deep breath, and rounded the car to pluck the paper bag holding their dinner from the trunk. He hadn’t trusted Lug Nut anywhere near it.
Daisy met him at the door and leapt at him. Setting the bag down quickly, he caught her. “Hey, stinker, what have you been up to today?”
“Nothin’.”
Lug Nut squeezed in between his legs.
Daisy gave a squeal, squirmed out of Tucker’s arms, and wrapped herself around the pup. Lug Nut dropped on the floor, presenting his belly for a rub.
“You’re shameless, dog. Brant’s turned you into a sissy.” Still, he said, “Daisy Elizabeth, this disaster of a dog is staying with us tonight—but no eating his food.”
“I won’t. It made my belly hurt.”
“Yeah, I know.” He eyed his rug. He should probably send it to the cleaners. “Lug Nut, say hi to Daisy.”
The dog actually shocked him by rolling onto all fours and extending a paw.
Daisy giggled. “Can I keep him?”
“Afraid not, kiddo.” He laid a hand on her shoulder. “We’re just babysitting him for a couple of nights.”
For a second, those Kewpie-doll lips drooped. Then, wrapping her arms around Tucker’s legs, she asked, “Can he sleep with me?”
I've Got You, Babe Page 7
