by Jenna Mindel
She looked at him as if he’d asked the color of the moon.
He grasped her sock-covered feet to stop her from rocking. “Did she land on the blanket?”
Cat sniffed, rallying. “I think so, yeah.”
Simon relaxed even more when Opal cooed.
“She’s fine, Cat. Just got scared.” Helen stood, holding a bare-bottomed Opal in her arms.
Opal gurgled and then squealed, sounding every bit recovered from her tumble.
Simon wanted to reach for the baby but knew Cat needed him more when she crumpled into the couch, her eyes filling with new tears. He sat next to her and gathered her hands in his, giving her fingers a gentle shake. “Hey—”
“Grab the diaper bag, Andy. Relax, Cat, I’ll finish changing her upstairs and bring her back down.” Helen gave Simon an encouraging smile and then breezed out of the room.
Cat’s father and sister followed.
With everyone gone, Cat looked more composed, but still shaken. “I’m sorry, I should be the one tending to Opal’s needs right now.”
“Let your mom do this for you.” Simon didn’t know the first thing about taking care of their daughter’s possible bump or bruise. He was glad Helen Zelinsky had far more experience with this sort of thing than him.
“What kind of terrible mother lets her ten-week-old baby roll off the couch?”
“Stop.” Simon squeezed her hands, glad that she didn’t pull away from him. “This could have happened to anyone. It could have just as easily been me. Then you’d never let me change her again.”
That earned him a slight smile, exactly what he’d been aiming for. It looked like this had really rattled her. Honestly, her reaction seemed a bit much. But then, what did he know?
She pinned him with a direct stare. “You really want to change her?”
Did he? Simon backtracked and looked away. “Not exactly something I look forward to doing...”
Cat pulled away and stood. “I’m going to check on her.”
Simon watched Cat leave and then stood and slipped out of his wool coat, draping it across the rocker. He noticed that the music upstairs had stopped. A cheerful fire blazed in the hearth and open boxes of Christmas decorations graced the hardwood floor.
Fortunately, Opal had not only rolled onto a soft blanket, but one that lay atop a thick area rug. Despite the harmless outcome, Simon knew how quickly accidents could happen with wee ones.
When he was twelve, his five-year-old sister had slipped and hit her head on the corner of the kitchen table while they’d been playing tag. As if that hadn’t been bad enough, his mother asked the guy down the hall of their apartment building to do a stitch job, which was so sloppy it left a zigzag of a scar on her forehead.
His mother had refused to go to the ER because of the money. Simon had been furious, but there wasn’t much he could do other than try to talk some sense into her. He remembered how his mother yelled back that until he found a job, he could keep his mouth shut. He didn’t, though. He’d muttered that she managed to find money for drugs and booze, and that had earned him a slap across the face.
He’d wanted to run away back then but knew he needed to look after his little sister and brother. Noble for a preteen, but when it counted, he hadn’t been there for them. After he’d been kicked out, he’d run away from his responsibility to them. Was he doing the same thing now?
No. This was different.
Cat returned with a newly changed Opal, shutting down his thoughts. She looked more composed.
He reached for his daughter, relieved when Cat handed her over. Searching Opal’s face, he didn’t see any swollen bumps or lumps. Not even a scratch.
Opal stretched her little hand toward his face, missing his nose.
He blew noisy kisses into the palm of Opal’s hand, enjoying the baby smiles he received in return. “We don’t have to get those greens today.”
“Yes, we do. My mom will watch the baby.” Cat looked determined.
“You okay?” What he’d perceived a moment ago as calm now looked like holding it together. Barely. Cat seemed too upset for a simple tumble, so he prodded. “Tell me.”
Her eyes darkened and she blinked rapidly, but she didn’t speak. Finally, she sighed with a shrug. “It scared me, is all.”
Simon knew purposeful distancing when he saw it. He’d practiced the art of deflection his whole life. He’d let it go for now—would wait to bring it up again when they were alone rather than in a house full of people. “Opal’s our first. Everything’s scary.”
Her eyes grew round.
That had come out wrong. He hadn’t meant to imply that they’d have more babies. Cutting through the awkward silence, Simon got back to the reason he’d come. “How do you want to do this with the greens? I only brought a couple laundry baskets with me.”
She looked relieved at the change of subject. “We have stuff. I think snowshoes would work well too.”
“What?”
Cat gave him a weak smile. “You’ll see.”
* * *
After making sure Opal was okay, after feeding her again to be certain, Cat had finally suited up for their outdoor trek. She demonstrated how to walk in snowshoes on the front lawn. Her parents had several pairs in different sizes, so she’d easily found a set to fit Simon.
“Do we really need these?” He lifted his foot. He’d caught on quickly, not that it was terribly difficult.
“There’s a good eight inches or more on the ground in places with higher drifts. Trust me, you’ll be glad we have them after walking a ways.” She pulled a deep plastic sled her father used for ice fishing behind her, loaded with tree loppers and a couple of pairs of pruning shears.
“Lead on.” Simon walked next to her.
The shushing rhythm of the metal snowshoes seemed loud against their silence. Even worse was Simon’s nervous expression when he’d looked at her—
“Do you want to talk about it? You were pretty upset.”
“No, I’m okay.” She wasn’t.
She’d freaked out over Opal falling to the floor. It had happened so fast. Cat wouldn’t soon forget the horrifying sound of Opal hitting the floor with a thud. It didn’t matter that the floor was carpeted or that the blanket had helped soften the fall even further; the problem was still that Cat had looked away. She’d been fiddling with the diaper bag zipper, trying to close it after pulling out the powder.
When she’d finally gone upstairs to check on her daughter, Cat’s mom had scolded her good. Not for letting Opal fall, but for thinking she was a terrible mother because of it. Cat wanted to believe her mother, but how could she not think about the day the Jensen girl fell off the dock into the lake and drowned. Cat hadn’t been paying close enough attention then either.
Glancing at him and the smooth way he moved through the snow, she took a deep breath. “Thank you for, I don’t know, being there for me. It did shake me up some.”
His expression softened. “You’re welcome.”
They made it to the edge of the woods and Simon unwrapped his scarf. He didn’t wear a hat.
Cat smiled. “It’s a workout, huh?”
He smiled back. “It is.”
“But easier than walking a long way in this much snow without the snowshoes.” Cat followed the edge of mainly hardwoods for a few feet until she found the path. “This way.”
Again, they walked in silence, until Cat stopped at a grove of pines. “Here. I think a bunch of these boughs will make a good base. Farther on toward the lake, where it’s marshier, there are cedars and small birch trees. I think we can fill in holes with clippings of those.”
“Sounds good.” Simon grabbed the loppers and started cutting the lower branches.
Cat used the pruning shears to clip smaller ones. She snipped pinecones too. They’d look pretty tucked in with the birch
branches. It didn’t take long to fill up the deep plastic sled. Simon took over pulling it as they ventured closer toward the lake.
Sparse snowflakes drifted from the sky, scattering over them only to melt after landing. Cat breathed the fresh air in deep. “It’s nice out here, quiet.”
“Almost too quiet,” Simon said. “Like I shouldn’t disrupt it by talking.”
“Yeah.” Cat nodded, relieved that it wasn’t her or what had happened with Opal that had kept Simon from speaking much.
He made his way toward a young birch tree and looked up.
Cat looked up too. “If we can get a few of those thinner branches above, they’d look really nice in the window box.”
“A little high.” Just out of Simon’s reach.
Cat looked at him. “Can you lift me?”
“I believe I can.” He grinned.
Her breath caught. She loved the way Simon smiled. With that teasing grin, he looked even more handsome.
He stepped close. “Ready?”
She nodded, her heart lodged in her throat at his nearness.
Simon lifted her, but she wobbled, making him unsteady too. “Put your hands on my shoulders.”
She did so, but it was too late. The only way they could keep from falling was to put her back on the ground. He loosened his hold and she slid down the front of him until they were face-to-face. She trembled.
“Are you cold?” Simon tightened his arms around her, his dark eyes piercing. Magnetic.
She wasn’t the least bit cold. He was only a breath away.
It would be so easy to kiss him. Easy to test his response and see if it was as strong as before, when they’d been in that hut. She wanted to, but he was leaving for who knew how long—and she wasn’t sure she could count on him to come back. Not for good. “This isn’t going to work.”
Simon’s nose touched hers. “No. Of course not.”
He didn’t have to agree with her so quickly. But while it stung her pride, she knew they were both making the rational decision. Some people were not meant to settle down and have families. Cat had considered herself among them because of her past, but now that she had Opal, she’d do the best she could to provide a stable life for her. Neither of them needed Simon popping in and out of their lives.
He’d settled in Maple Springs for six months, started a lucrative business and found that he didn’t like it. The only reason he’d stalled closing up his shop was to give her a job. She’d pressed him on that too, knowing that he looked at providing for Opal as simply financial in nature.
Cat pulled away. “It might work better if I were on your shoulders.”
He nodded, his expression closed. “Take those snowshoes off and I’ll give it a go.”
After a couple of laughable tries, Cat finally made it onto his shoulders. Tucking her feet on either side of him for leverage, she reached for the tree loppers that Simon handed her. She made fast work of clipping several skinny and a few thicker birch branches.
“Done?”
“Yes.” Cat handed back the loppers.
Simon tossed them on top of the pine and birch they’d gathered and then backed against a tree. Grasping her mitten-covered hands in his, he bent so she could slip off him. She did, losing one mitten in the process.
Back on the ground, Cat picked it up and turned. “All we need now is cedar.”
Simon’s hair stuck up in places with static. “Lead the way.”
Cat stared a moment before bending down to slip back into her snowshoes. Her fingers shook at the emotions coursing through her. These feelings of neediness nearly overwhelmed her.
Despite his painful upbringing, she believed he could be a good father. Proving that was bound to place Cat in a precarious position, one that might engage her heart. Showing Simon that Opal needed him might reveal that she needed him too, and then what?
What if Simon didn’t want them and left anyway? What then?
* * *
After gathering the cedar clippings, Simon followed Cat back to the house. He rebuked himself for coming much too close to kissing Cat. He couldn’t offer her a romantic relationship when he had no idea what one was even supposed to look like. He was no more suited to be a husband than he was a father.
They stopped at the driveway, near his Jeep. Each of them slipped out of the snowshoes.
Simon reached for the sled to load the greens into the back of his car when he noticed Cat pulling the birch twigs out of the pile, along with the pinecones. “What are you doing?”
“I need to glue the pinecones onto sticks and I want to jazz up the birch twigs a little.”
“Jazz up?” Simon had no idea what she was talking about.
“Spray some glittery stuff on them so they’ll pop.”
He wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “Glitter?”
She patted his arm. “Not what you’re thinking. Nothing gaudy, I promise. I’ll bring them tomorrow so you’ll see before I stick them in there. What time do you want me at your store?”
Simon stared at her. He was still getting his bearings after holding her close. But he knew she was right to force his thoughts back to business. He’d hired her to manage his shop while he was gone and needed to show her what to do. He needed to concentrate on making enough inventory for the next five months. “How about one?”
Cat nodded. “Sounds good. My mom has already agreed to watch Opal.”
“You can bring her.”
Cat looked confused. Attractively so. “But I thought you said—”
He stopped her with a raised hand. “It shouldn’t be too busy, and with both of us there, I can always take care of the customer if you’re occupied with the baby.”
Having Opal along would remind him of his responsibility, and hopefully keep him busy in the back, away from the temptation that was Cat.
Cat looked surprised, but pleased, and smiled. “Okay. One o’clock it is and we’ll both be there.”
Simon loaded up the rest of the greens.
Cat helped, putting her close to him again. “Would you like to come in for lunch?”
He was about to refuse, when his stomach growled loud enough for her to hear.
Cat laughed and tugged on his arm. “Come on.”
He was hungry, but a sinking feeling told him that food wouldn’t exactly satisfy. Still, he followed her into the house. He didn’t like this itchy feeling around Cat. She might as well be a sprung trap waiting. If he didn’t watch out where he stepped, she might sink her steel jaws of warm home and family into him.
Simon wasn’t that sort of man. He had all his life up to this point to prove that. If Cat started relying on him, he’d only let her down.
Entering the Zelinsky home, he cringed at the sound of Opal’s howling cry. He’d heard that cry before, the day they’d first met.
Cat hurried to take their daughter from her mom. “Did you give her a bottle?”
“I tried, but she wasn’t having any of it,” Helen said. “Here, give me your coat.”
Cat slipped out of her lightweight ski jacket as she shushed and rocked the baby. She grabbed the bottle from the counter and gave it a try. “Here you go, Opal.”
The baby latched on but then promptly pushed away, crying with renewed vigor.
“Oh, Cat, give it up for now. Switching to a bottle takes time and you can’t rush it.”
“Not helping, Mom.” Cat slipped out of the room in a huff.
Simon didn’t dare comment, even though the words I told you so filtered through his thoughts. It had said as much in the book he’d purchased with hopes of gaining insight into babies.
He looked at Cat’s father, who shrugged. “Would you like some lunch? Helen made white chili. We were about to have some.”
Simon knew better than to refuse, now that he was inside. Besides, i
t smelled terribly good. “Yes. Thank you.”
Andy Zelinsky grabbed bowls from the cupboard and placed them on a plate. He scooped a generous portion into each and then—after checking with Simon—topped it with shredded cheese. “Corn bread?”
Simon nodded. “Definitely.”
Andy sort of smiled. “There’s pop in the fridge.”
Simon made himself at home, reaching for a can of soda and offering one to Cat’s father.
“I’ve got water, but thank you. Have a seat.”
He slipped into a chair across from Cat’s dad, who bowed his head. Simon did so, as well.
“It doesn’t get any easier,” Andy said.
“What’s that, sir?”
“Raising kids.”
“You had ten.” Simon couldn’t keep the amazement out of his voice.
“Yes.” No other explanation or reason given. “Cat tells us that you’ve hired her to manage your shop.”
Simon felt the weight of Andy Zelinsky’s disapproving gaze. “That’s right, but I will help support Opal.”
“Hmm. I suppose that’s a start.” Cat’s father pushed a pad of paper and pen toward him. “I often have breakfast in town at Cam’s diner. If you’ll give me your number, I’d like to meet you there one day.”
That was definitely stronger than a suggestion. He supposed he owed the man some time over breakfast, all things considered. Simon quickly jotted down his cell. “Might I have yours, as well?”
Andy Zelinsky showed only a trace of surprise.
“Just in case.” Simon could think of any number of reasons he might need to get in touch with Cat’s family. Her father’s contact information was a good one to have tucked away in case of an emergency.
Andy wrote down his number and Helen’s too and then ripped the sheet of paper off and handed it to him.
Simon was about to respond, but Cat entered with a baby monitor in hand. “Everything okay?” he asked.
Cat raised the monitor. “She’s asleep.”
She looked tired too. Would running the shop be too much for her? He’d find out soon enough, he supposed.
He tucked the paper in his pocket and turned his attention back to his bowl of white chili. He noticed a new tension in the room that wasn’t there before. Perhaps Andy Zelinsky didn’t approve of him—or of Cat working for him. Well, it might serve both their needs and it enabled him to support them. Cat hadn’t yet mentioned what she’d expect for child support, so he’d offered her a rather generous salary.
