“What did you get me?” She dug into the bag and found a plush fleece blanket, slipper socks and a travel pillow, all in shades of baby blue. “Trace, this is too much. I feel bad, now, that I’m not staying.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. You always go out of your way to see to our comfort. I wanted to do it. It’s not like you can’t use these things at home. And, yes, it’s okay to lend anything you want to Dan. My feelings won’t be hurt.”
“Well, thank you.” She didn’t let the fact the gift came from a sense of obligation upset her. Much. The point was he’d made the effort. “Am I so easy to read?”
“Hardly.” An incredulous laugh escaped him. “You constantly keep me guessing. But in some things, like the comfort of those you care about, you are very predictable.”
“Uh-huh?” Somewhat appeased, she loaded the items back into the bag. “Oh, here’s Dan.”
Nikki introduced Trace to her brother-in-law, and then Dan caught them up on Amanda’s condition. “They moved her back to her room and brought the baby in, so she’s pretty jazzed right now. She wants to see you. You should come, too,” he said to Trace.
“Yes,” Nikki urged him, “you have to give Amanda your gift. Oh.” Disappointment bit sharp when he shifted Mickey in his arms to pick up the blue bag. Hospital rules didn’t allow children in the maternity rooms. “I don’t think they’ll let us bring Mickey.”
Trace lifted a dark brow. “I have a badge. There won’t be any problem.”
Chapter Eleven
“DIDN’T Amanda look radiant with her son in her arms?” Nikki mused once they were in the SUV on the way home, at a little after one in the morning.
Trace merged onto the freeway, headed east. Amanda had looked unkempt, uncomfortable and exhausted. Exactly as you’d expect after twelve hours of labor and surgery. And, yes, she’d lit up the room with her joy and contentment.
“A mother and her babe are a beautiful thing,” Trace agreed.
“You were wonderful tonight.” Nikki laid a warm hand on his knee. The heat of her touch blazed straight to his lap. The traffic was light this hour of the morning, so he chanced a glance at her, and then did a double-take.
Her eyes were luminous, shining bright with…love?
For a moment the earth rolled on its axis and his world exploded, becoming bright and perfect. And right. As if he’d finally found his life’s path. And Nikki walked it with him.
No, he had to be mistaken. Nikki didn’t love him. She loved her family. That was it: the love lighting her eyes was for the family she’d just left behind. That explained it.
Which was a relief, right? So why did he suddenly feel deprived and lost?
“Your gift for Amanda was perfect. How did you know to bring her snacks?”
“I did my homework when Donna was expecting. The mother isn’t allowed to eat or doesn’t feel like eating during labor. After the baby is born she’s ready for something to snack on. And I threw in the slipper socks because it can get cold in the hospital.”
“Oh, Trace,” Nikki breathed. She turned toward him in her seat. “How thoughtful you’ve been, when this visit must have been very traumatic for you. The memories it must have brought back…Are you okay?”
“I told you I was no good at emotion. My marriage was a perfect example of that. We were compatible; she wanted to get married. I agreed. It was that simple—until it got complicated. She began to complain about my hours. Then she wanted to quit work and have a baby. At first I resisted, but she got pregnant anyway.”
“You must have felt trapped. Your sense of honor and duty would have required you to stay with them.”
He sat in silence for a moment, remembering his frustration and hurt at having his feelings in such a big decision ignored. It occurred to him that Nikki knew him better after only a month or two of working together than Donna had over three years of marriage.
“At first I was angry. But you’re right. Duty and obligation kicked in. I’d vowed for better or worse, and I determined a baby would make things better. Donna wouldn’t be so lonely. She’d have her child.”
“How did Donna feel about the compromise?”
“We were making the best of it. Donna was excited about the baby, and I was glad to see her happy and occupied.”
“You would have made it work,” she said, her faith in him obvious, but her tone held an odd edge he couldn’t identify.
“I like to think so.” He would have tried, had tried, but he wondered now if mediocre feelings would have been enough to hold them together through the long haul.
“When she died and Mickey lived it seemed like one big cosmic joke. Kill off the one who wanted the baby and leave him with a messed up dude who knows nothing about childcare and less about providing for someone else’s emotional well-being. I was so relieved when Donna’s parents said they’d take him. For Mickey’s sake more than my own. But it turns out I still messed up.”
“You did what was right for everyone concerned at the time. Plus you changed your whole life, your job, your residence, your lifestyle, to make a home for Mickey.”
“But I left him with his grandparents longer than I needed to.”
“Mostly out of compassion for your mother-in-law.”
“But not all. I was no better prepared for a one-year-old than a newborn.”
“Yeah, well, a lot of child rearing is on-the-job training.”
“You’re too soft on me.”
“You’re too hard on yourself.”
He squeezed her hand. “Mickey and I are lucky to have you. You’re going to make a wonderful aunt.”
Twenty minutes later Trace pulled into his driveway, placed the SUV in Park, and with a tired sigh shut off the engine. He glanced to the right. Nikki sat slumped against the door, a hand curled under her cheek, sound asleep.
He hated to wake her after such a long, emotional day, but she’d be more comfortable in her own bed. Cupping her shoulder, he shook her gently. Nothing. He shook a little harder. She shifted and resettled against the door, clearly out of it.
He decided to take Mickey in first and come back for Nikki. He lifted his son against his shoulder. Such a slight weight. Trace barely remembered him as a newborn. Born early, he’d had to stay in the hospital for a week while his lungs and weight stabilized. Fighting through the shock and grief of losing Donna, Trace had spent days planning a funeral and nights sitting next to an incubator.
It had been the worst time of his life.
He’d been so grateful for his in-laws’ offer to take Mickey. Now, as he settled his son in his bed, Trace was thankful to finally have his son in his custody, and he prayed for the strength and fortitude to be a good parent. With Nikki’s help, he just might have a chance.
He returned to the SUV for her. Carefully opening her door, he cupped her shoulder to keep her from falling and accepted her weight as she slumped sideways. She mumbled, but didn’t awaken.
“Nikki, wake up now,” he urged her. “We’re home.”
“Home,” she said, and laid her head on his shoulder.
“Come on, sweetheart, wake up.”
“Hmm…” She sighed, and nestled closer.
“Okay, then.” He swung her up into his arms, hooked her purse over his elbow, shoved the door shut with his hip and headed inside.
As he climbed the steps to the front deck she roused. “I can walk,” she murmured, even as she circled his neck and snuggled against him.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered into her hair. How he longed to carry her straight through to his bed, where he could hold her close during the night and wake up with her in the morning.
He knew in that moment she’d reached depths in him he’d never allowed anyone to touch. Not even with Donna had he ever looked beyond the moment. With Nikki he saw them sitting on the back deck, hands linked, as they watched grandchildren playing in the yard.
He shuddered, recognizing things had gone too far, knowing she deserved better than a ready-made fa
mily complete with two dysfunctional males. But wanting, oh, wanting so badly to reach out and grasp love, to know the true meaning of family and commitment.
Inside, he set her on the couch while he went to hunt up the key to her apartment. When he came back, he found her sprawled full-length on the couch.
“Nikki,” he called softly, lifting her torso up and sliding into the spot next to her so she couldn’t lie back down. “It’s time to go to bed.”
She opened sleepy amber eyes, blinked at him and smiled.
“Stay here,” she said, and then she climbed into his arms, pushing him into the corner in the process, and sprawled next to him. “Home.”
She was asleep again before he could protest. Not that he wanted to object. Hugging her close, he shifted his legs up onto the couch to tangle with hers.
Yes, again the world felt right.
He sighed and let his body relax. Surrounded by the sweet scent of apple blossom and woman, savoring the lush feel of Nikki in his arms, he drifted off to sleep.
“Stupid cell service.” Nikki clicked the “end” button on her cell phone and tossed it in the passenger seat. The law restricted her from using the phone while driving, but since she hadn’t moved more than a quarter mile in twenty-five minutes she figured she was safe. Unfortunately, she had no service, so it didn’t matter anyway.
Cars stretched out on the freeway as far as she could see in both directions. Glancing in the rearview mirror, she checked on Mickey. He sat happily in his car seat, eating a teething biscuit.
“I don’t know how you can be so calm. Your daddy is going to have my hide if he gets home before we do.” She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. She should have been home thirty minutes ago. “The radio says there’s an accident involving a semi near Lake Jennings Road.”
The on and off ramps had both been closed, and they were talking about an oil spill. She’d just passed Los Coches, which meant there was no off ramp between her and the accident. Until the road cleared, nobody was going anywhere.
“Daddy?” Mickey called out, and clapped his hands.
“Yeah.” Nikki grinned at his response. “He’s your favorite person, huh? I’m so happy you two have become good buds.”
Trace hadn’t been pleased with her decision to drive Amanda into town. With a high wind advisory in effect, and thunderstorms threatening, he’d considered the trip frivolous and unnecessary. Of course that had only made her more determined to go.
Hold back because of the weather? In San Diego County, with its generally mild climate and where the weather forecasters were wrong as often as they were right? Uh-uh.
Rain started to splatter the windshield.
“Oh, wonderful. That’s the icing on the cake.” Could it get any worse?
“Cake?” Mickey repeated, recognizing one of his favorite treats.
“Sorry, buddy, no cake.”
Mickey threw the teething biscuit and demanded, “Cake! Cake! Cake!”
“Mickey, stop.”
Now she’d done it. Overdue for his afternoon nap, the usually even-tempered baby went into a cranky fit.
The bland biscuit—she didn’t blame Mickey for preferring cake—had been the last of her distractions. Rather than scold him for his behavior, she talked gently to him, giving him her full attention. She explained where they were, and what was happening and promised she’d get him home as soon as she could. He didn’t understand the words, but he responded to her reassuring tone and attentive manner and soon settled down. It also helped when she dug Boo out of the diaper bag.
If only Daddy would be so easy to calm down.
All right, so her contrariness had gotten the better of her. But it wasn’t all her fault. She treasured her independence, and Trace’s suggestions often sounded more like orders. Plus, she’d already promised Amanda a ride into town to meet Dan. It was her sister’s first outing since having the baby, and she’d so been looking forward to it. Nikki hadn’t had the heart to disappoint her.
But she despised hurting Trace.
She checked her cell again. Nothing. She always lost service through these hills.
In a few minutes he’d be home. He wouldn’t know where they were. He’d worry—especially with the weather turning bad.
Hopefully he’d hear about the accident and realize she was stuck.
She’d found such sweet slumber in his arms the other night. How she wished it had turned into more. But, no, he’d let her sleep while he got Mickey up, dressed and fed. Only when Trace was ready to walk out the door had he woken her.
Sleeping in his arms, she had felt cherished and above all else safe. No need to play big sister, nanny, teacher, housekeeper. Not during the hours he guarded her sleep. He’d gone to a lot of trouble, risked some pretty heavy memories for her benefit.
Surely that meant he cared for her beyond what she provided for his son?
A wicked grin formed as she remembered the lingering sizzle in the air ever since. Oh, yeah, he cared. Then she sobered, hoping this stunt—and the anxiety it would bring—didn’t ruin everything.
“Trace, call on line three.” Lydia’s voice floated down the hall, a sure sign she and the new phone system weren’t on speaking terms yet.
He picked up the line. “Sheriff Oliver.”
“Mr. Oliver?” a brisk voice greeted him. “I’m with the Irvine Central School District. I need to verify employment for Ms. Nikki Rhodes, can you help me?”
Trace dropped his pen on the desk and sat back in his chair, giving his entire attention to the phone call. “Yes, Ms. Rhodes works for me. What is this in regard to?”
“I’m sorry, I’m not at liberty to say—”
He cut off the privacy mumbo-jumbo. “But you’re with the Irvine Central School District? That must mean she’s applied for a position there.”
“I’m not allowed to discuss the applicant’s business.” She confirmed his suspicion with her officious disclaimer. “Would you be willing to answer a few questions? How long has Ms. Rhodes been working for you?”
Trace answered the questions on autopilot, while his mind wheeled with the possibility of losing Nikki. Why hadn’t she told him she was applying for a job? Was it something he’d done? Something he hadn’t done?
Like holding her in his arms all night long and not making sweet love to her. The hardest thing he’d ever done was to leave her sleeping alone the next morning.
And now she would be leaving. A fist twisted in his gut, a cold sense of dread enveloping him.
Of course he knew she’d always intended going back to teaching, but surely she would tell him if she had applied for a position.
Obviously not. And that hurt.
“The résumé indicates she also lives with you. Is that correct?”
“She has an apartment on my property, yes.”
“Thank you, sir. Just one last question. Would you consider rehiring Ms. Rhodes in the future?”
Rehire her? Forget that. He didn’t want her to go.
Trace drove up to the house as the first raindrops fell, not surprised to see Nikki’s car missing from the curb. Numerous unanswered calls to the house since his conversation with the Irvine Central School District had already told him she wasn’t home.
A slow-burning anger brewed. She’d gone against his wishes and driven Amanda into town to meet her husband and now she’d got stuck behind the accident blocking Freeway Eight.
Hell, he prayed that was all that had delayed Nikki. If she wanted to risk her neck, he couldn’t stop her. But she’d had no right to take Mickey with her.
He tried her cell again, and again it went straight to voice mail.
Lightning lashed the sky as he entered the cool, prematurely darkened house. No lights burned, and there was no sense of the warm welcome he’d become accustomed to since Nikki came to stay.
But she hadn’t come to stay; she’d come to work. And now she meant to leave him, to work somewhere else. Thunder boomed, and the rip of lightning outs
ide mimicked what he felt inside: torn apart with anger, loss and pain.
He paced, needing an outlet for his rage.
Where was she? Where was his son?
For so long he’d fought the reality of being a parent, believing any child of his was better off with any family besides him. Yet every day he spent with Mickey made Trace realize how wrong he’d been.
Mickey was a miracle. For better or worse, he loved Trace. And his unconditional trust and affection touched Trace beyond anything he’d ever known.
Trace prayed nothing would happen to Mickey when he’d just found him. God, he loved his son.
Seeking action, Trace called the station, asked Lydia to check on the traffic board and give him current road conditions and accident reports. A few small collisions had popped up—no fatalities, thank the Lord—and they’d cleared a couple of lanes near the semi rollover on eight. Traffic had begun moving through the area.
Relieved to know there’d been no accident-related deaths, he hung up and went to check the window again. Five minutes later Nikki pulled up in front of the house.
He cleared the door and took the steps two at a time to reach her car. She was already out, struggling to release Mickey from his car seat.
“Let me.” He moved her aside to reach the sleeping boy. “Where the hell have you been?” he demanded. Not waiting for an answer, he snapped, “Next time you want to kidnap my son, leave your cell phone on.”
“I know you’re angry.” She brushed rain off her cheeks. “But I promise you I exhausted every avenue before taking Mickey with me.”
“I’m sure you tried real hard.” He grabbed a blanket from the diaper bag, tucked it around Mickey and then thrust the bag in her hands before heading inside.
“I did try.” She followed hard on his heels. “I had Josh lined up, but he got called into work. I only know of three other people you’d allow to watch him. I couldn’t reach one and the other two were busy.”
“Then you shouldn’t have gone.” He left her to close the front door, intent on getting Mickey to his bed.
Single Dad Needs Nanny Page 12
