The Marine's Baby

by Deb Kastner

  Gracie was doing fine. Her fever was long gone, and she was back to happily waking at dawn. In the amazing resilient way of small children, the baby had bounced back to good health. Her color was excellent and she was merrily complaining about the pureed squash Nate tried to feed her. It was almost if the previous week’s crisis had never happened.

  After his own quick breakfast of toast and strong coffee, he bundled Gracie up in a one-piece pink snowsuit with a furry hood that Nate thought made her look like a little Inuit baby. He chuckled as he strapped her into her baby backpack and set off for Jess’s cabin.

  When he arrived at her cabin, he knocked quietly at first, and then a little louder. Jess didn’t answer the door, and he assumed she was still sleeping. It was Saturday, after all.

  He turned to go, thinking he would return later, at a more acceptable hour of the morning.

  Just as he stepped away from the door, he spotted Jess approaching at a jog, her short blond ponytail swinging behind her. Her cheeks were pink from the cold and exertion, and she was out of breath.

  “Nate,” she called, coming to a halt before him and leaning her palms against her knees to catch her breath. “What’s up? Is Gracie okay?”

  Nate grinned and turned to the side, dipping his shoulder so Jess could see the baby bundled on his back. “She’s fine. Her fever is gone and she’s back to disliking the vegetables I attempted to feed her this morning. Emphasis on attempted.”

  Jess laughed, her light tone echoing in the crisp air. “Babies are amazing, aren’t they? They bounce back from sickness so…”

  Her sentence came to an abrupt halt just as her face fell. She pinched her lips together tightly and squeezed her eyes shut, but not before Nate had glimpsed the sheer pain and agony in her gaze.

  She was hurting.

  She didn’t say so out loud, but Nate knew it as sure as he knew the beat of his own heart.

  Without a second thought, he wrapped his arms around her and pressed her to his chest. She didn’t protest, but curled into him as if seeking shelter in his arms.

  Emotion welled in his throat. More than anything, he wanted to protect this woman, to defend her against whatever grief was chasing her, to erase the pain in her gaze.

  She had been there for him when he needed her. How could he do any less for her?

  “Quickly,” Jess finished, her voice muffled in the fabric of his brown leather bomber jacket. “Babies heal so quickly.”

  Jess took a step backward. Nate took the hint and released her, though he kept his hands on her shoulders as he gazed down at her, trying to read her expression.

  Her eyes were bright, but her features were calm. There was hardly a trace of distress left over for Nate to see.

  What had just happened?

  Jess was smiling up at him, and as far as he could tell, it was genuine. Nate admittedly had little experience where women were concerned. Were they all in possession of such quick-changing moods, or was it only Jess who acted that way?

  Clueless. He was absolutely at a loss.

  “What just happened?” he asked aloud.

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” she replied with a dismissive wave of her hand; but she couldn’t hold his gaze. Her eyes flickered to a spot just over his left shoulder.

  Mind your own business.

  She didn’t have to say the words aloud for the message to come through loud and clear. Nate felt a little rejected by her emotional retreat, as well as experiencing a sharp sense of discouragement that she didn’t trust him enough to confide in him.

  He’d poured out his heart to her last week, and yet was receiving nothing in return. He knew he hadn’t been wrong to trust her, but he wished with all his heart that she could trust him.

  Then again, he reminded himself, the bond of friendship they had formed was unusual—and swift—forged on the heels of crisis.

  “Okay,” he murmured. He tried to shrug, but the backpack weighed his shoulders down.

  “Okay,” she agreed, taking another step backward and completely out of Nate’s reach. “And why are you here, again?”

  “Oh, that,” Nate said, bemused for a moment as his mind grappled to catch up with her.

  Being with Jess really did a number on him. He was so turned around he had almost forgotten why he’d come in the first place.

  Anticipation pulsed through him, followed quickly by a strong case of nerves. “I’ve been thinking about what you said.”

  She raised her brow. “What did I say?”

  “About visiting my pop,” he concluded eagerly. “Gracie is doing so much better this morning that I thought now would be a good time.”

  “I agree,” she said, smiling her encouragement and making Nate’s head spin even more.

  “I know the day care isn’t open today, but I hoped you could watch Gracie for me.”

  She nodded. “I could do that. But don’t you think your father will want to meet his precious new little granddaughter?”

  Nate winced, recalling the cool reception Vince had given him on his homecoming. Nate had no reason to believe Pop would be any more responsive.

  Then again, Vince had been kind to the baby. Maybe Gracie would help break the ice.

  No. He couldn’t risk it, and he wouldn’t use an innocent baby as a shield.

  “I don’t know how this is going to go down,” he explained, his voice gruff. “I’ve given Pop a lot of reasons to be angry with me. I don’t want Gracie caught in the crossfire of my mistakes. I’ve noticed how she picks up on everyone’s emotions, and I don’t want to take the risk of upsetting her.”

  Jess laid a hand on his forearm. “I appreciate how you put Gracie’s needs before your own.”

  Her warm gaze reinforced her words. Nate squared his shoulders, feeling a good inch taller just because of her radiant smile.

  Jess believed in him.

  It was a novelty.

  Outside of the marines, where he had naturally excelled and had won the respect of all his men, Nate hadn’t much experience in being built up. His own family had done nothing over the years but tear him down.

  “I’ll tell you what,” she continued. “How about I run in and change my clothes, and then Gracie and I can accompany you up to the main lodge.”

  His heart lit up and he knew it must show on his face. “You’d do that for me?”

  “Of course.” She waved a hand as if brushing the thought away.

  He wondered if she had any idea just what a special woman she was.

  He wanted to tell her right there on the spot, but he’d never been particularly good with words, and at the moment, he felt more tongue-tied than ever. In the end, he simply nodded.

  “I can stay in the dayroom with Gracie while you are visiting with your father,” she said, cementing her new plan. “Then, if everything goes well—and I really think it will—Gracie will be right there in the building, making it much more convenient for you to introduce her to her grandfather.”

  Nate didn’t have Jess’s faith that his meeting with Pop would go well, and he laid the blame for that squarely on his own shoulders; but he smiled anyway.

  How could he not, when Jess had caught him up in the excitement of the moment?

  “Thanks,” he choked out.

  Jess waved him off again. “It’s nothing. I’m glad to help.” It wasn’t nothing.

  It was everything. And so, Nate was beginning to realize, was this woman.

  With Nate and Gracie waiting just outside her cabin door, Jessica hurried to change from sweatpants into jeans and to quickly run a brush through her hair, which was rather tangled from having been in a ponytail. As she worked, she prayed fervently.

  She would have liked to think her motivation was pure and blameless, and not the self-serving petition she knew it to be.

  If Nate reconciled with his father—and she had been speaking from her heart when she told Nate she believed that would happen—then maybe Nate would have a reason to stick around Morni
ngway Lodge a little longer. And even though she knew such an occurrence would put her heart at risk much more so than it already was, she couldn’t help but wish it to be so.

  The day was cool but clear, so she and Nate decided to walk the short distance to the main lodge. Jessica chattered on about inconsequential things as they went, holding up the entire conversation all on her own. Nate made polite one-word responses and little else.

  She was a little self-conscious about being the one doing all the talking, but she sensed Nate’s mood shifting inward. Every time a period of silence overtook them—meaning Jessica stopped talking for any length of time—the mood between them felt uncomfortable to her and, she thought, to Nate as well.

  While he didn’t contribute much to the conversation, he clearly appreciated the distraction.

  So she kept talking—about the weather, her work at the day care, descriptions of some of the more colorful guests and their children who’d inhabited the lodge over the past year.

  It wasn’t until they’d entered the main lodge and Nate was fumbling with his backpack that she stopped talking. She steadied the backpack as Nate slipped it in front of him, and then tucked her hands under Gracie’s shoulders while he worked the baby’s legs loose from the tight material.

  She kissed Gracie’s soft cheek before tucking her against her hip and flashed Nate her most encouraging smile. “Well, I guess this is it.”

  Nate’s lips pursed for a moment as he swallowed hard and worked his fingers through the short tips of his brown hair. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

  “Is what?” came Vince’s voice from the front desk. Jess hadn’t seen Vince standing there when they’d entered; and if the way Nate’s shoulders visibly tightened and the slant of his clenched jaw was any indication, neither had he.

  Nate didn’t answer, and Jessica took her cue from him, remaining silent as Vince approached. Unconsciously, she tightened her hold on Gracie, then purposefully relaxed again, knowing the baby would respond to the cues she was getting from Jessica.

  “How’s my little niece?” Vince asked in the high-pitched singsong voice men used with children and animals. He reached for Gracie, and when the baby held out her arms to him, Jessica had no choice but to relinquish the baby to him.

  “Oh, you are a sweetheart,” Vince crooned as Gracie laid her plump little hands on his face. Vince kissed the baby’s forehead, and then turned to Nate.

  “How’s fatherhood treating you? You ready to wave the white flag in surrender yet?”

  Jessica thought Vince’s tone was teasing, but she didn’t miss the way Nate drew himself up, his shoulders tight and his fists clenched against his sides.

  “I don’t surrender,” he informed Vince through gritted teeth, his gaze narrowing. “Not now, and not ever. Just so we’re straight.”

  Vince shrugged as if he didn’t care one way or the other, but his gaze became hooded.

  Jessica remembered Nate’s comment about the bad blood between the two brothers, but all she could see was two grown men acting as mulish and stubborn as a couple of quarrelsome little boys. Each man was clearly taking his cues from the past, when they’d both been hotheaded teenagers.

  Didn’t they realize they were both grown men now—capable, at least in theory, of talking through their problems as adults?

  Jessica’s gaze shifted from Vince’s closed expression to Nate’s open glower.

  Obviously not, Jessica thought, pressing her lips together to keep herself from grinning, knowing any humor she found in the situation would only add kindling to an already sparking blaze.

  If she didn’t step in and stamp out the fire right now, she thought the two men might regress even further—into an all-out brawl.

  Men.

  She shook her head and stepped between them, stopping just shy of holding her hands palm out to stop them from advancing on each other.

  “How would you like to spend some time with your new little niece, Vince?” she asked in a firm but placating tone.

  “Well, sure. I’d love to,” he said, then frowned. “If Nate doesn’t have a problem with it.”

  Nate glared at him.

  “Why do you ask?” Vince queried, blatantly ignoring Nate as his attention shifted to the baby he still held in his arms.

  Nate stepped to Jessica’s side. “I’m here to see Pop. Jessica is keeping the baby out here for me while I go in to visit.”

  Jessica let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding as the tension, while still fairly high-strung between the two men, dissipated enough that she was fairly certain one wouldn’t suddenly lunge at the other.

  Fairly certain.

  “Are you?” Vince asked, his voice cool.

  “Unless you have a problem with it,” Nate responded, echoing Vince’s earlier sentiments.

  Vince’s eyebrows arched and he shook his head.

  “Not at all. About time, if you ask me. I didn’t tell Pop you were back home, like you asked. He’ll be surprised to see you.”

  “That’s one way to describe it,” Nate answered, his voice so low that while Jessica barely heard the statement, she was sure Vince had not.

  Slipping her hand into Nate’s, she squeezed reassuringly. “Take your time with your father, Nate. I’ll stay here with Vince and Gracie. There’s no reason to rush.”

  Nate met her gaze, his eyes at once apologetic and grateful. He clipped a nod.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he said, and then made a smooth, military about-face and strode toward the hallway.

  Jessica watched him go, praying once again that Nate wouldn’t find things with his father as bad as he imagined them to be. After what she’d just witnessed between Nate and Vince, she was no longer so sure about Nate’s reception with his father.

  And if things went poorly, she might be saying goodbye to Nate and Gracie much sooner than she would have thought. Her stomach tightened uncomfortably at the same time her throat closed. If Nate and Gracie left Morningway Lodge, would her heart leave with them?

  Chapter Seven

  It didn’t take Nate more than a minute to reach the suite of rooms located on the far end of the first-floor hallway. He knew right where they were. These had been his parents’ rooms when Nate was growing up, with the boys sharing the room across the hallway. Now it was just Pop alone in the suite. Nate wondered if Vince still occupied the room across the way.

  Nate hesitated in front of the door, noting how the glass door at the end of the hallway, which gave clients an easier access to their rooms from outside, was shaking from the breeze. He could feel the chill seeping through the edge of the glass door, and made a mental note of it, thinking it ought to be repaired. Not that it would be easy to mention a suggestion with any negative connotation attached to it to Vince.

  Not that Vince would care to listen to any of his suggestions. Nate knew he had lost any claim to Morningway Lodge when he’d entered the military. That was how he wanted it to be, and it was a sure bet Vince didn’t want him interfering in any way.

  Shaking his head to dislodge the unwelcome thoughts, Nate rapped three times on the door to his father’s room. He waited a moment, and then when no one answered, he tried the knob.

  It turned. Thinking his father might be resting, he swung the door open on silent hinges and let himself into the room.

  The living quarters were much the same as Nate remembered them. Several of his mother’s cross-stitched pictures still hung on the walls, and the furniture was the same—two plump old blue fabric easy chairs sat at an angle from an equally worn cream-colored sofa and a knotted pine coffee table that lent the décor a quaint look Nate had always loved. A small dining table and two hard-backed chairs stood in the far corner.

  No need for a kitchen, Nate knew, for the chef in the main lodge always brought in meals for them. An open doorway in the middle of the right wall led to the tiny bed and bath.

  It was only after he’d taken a moment to draw in his surroundings that Nate noticed
his father, tucked into a wheelchair and facing the window. The curtains were open and the sun was streaming down on the old man, giving Nate the peculiar feeling he was looking at someone larger than life.

  And that, Nate acknowledged silently, was what his father had always been to him.

  Larger than life.

  “I told you I wasn’t hungry,” Jason Morningway bit out without turning to see who was in the doorway. “Just take it away.”

  “Pop?” Nate asked hesitantly.

  His father jerked, then froze.

  “Pop? It’s Nate.”

  “Nate,” the old man repeated, wonder in his voice. “My son.”

  Nate’s throat welled with emotion and he tried to swallow it back, but the stinging pressure at his Adam’s apple simply wouldn’t go away, making it difficult for him to breathe.

  Slowly, the old man appeared to regain at least a semblance of use in his upper body, and using his right hand, he put pressure on the switch that turned his chair around. After a moment of adjusting the switch, Jason gazed up at his son.

  Nate felt as if he’d been sucker punched in the gut. His breath swept audibly from his lungs.

  This was the man who had so completely intimidated Nate as a boy?

  Gone was the height and strength Nate remembered. In its place was a tiny, shriveled man confined to a wheelchair, with a flannel blanket tucked around his legs. His gray eyes were filmy and the muscles on the left side of his face drooped slightly.

  Nate hadn’t realized until that moment how devastating his father’s stroke had been. Pop looked eighty, not the sixty-eight years old Nate knew him to be.

  “Come here,” Jason commanded, and Nate immediately obeyed, for it was the imposing voice that Nate remembered from his youth.

  His father stared up at him for a long moment without speaking. Nate noticed the way the old man’s shoulders were quivering and thought it might be from strain, so he swiped a hard-backed chair from the dining table and seated himself in front of his father.

  He wanted to reach out and touch the old man, if nothing else to reassure himself that the moment was real, but he didn’t move a muscle.