“Chocolate icing?” He raised his eyebrows hopefully.
“Yes, chocolate icing. Very fudgy.”
“What are you going to do with all of them? There must be three dozen here.”
“Four,” she corrected. “And I don’t know. It’s a lot for two people. You could freeze them.” She moved to the counter and started measuring icing sugar into a bowl. He watched, fascinated, as she added cocoa and then began scooping out an obscene amount of butter to add to the ingredients.
Yes, he could freeze them, and have them for when she was gone. He swallowed the last taste of the cupcake and realized that in just a very few short days she—and Nell—had brought some much-needed sound and life into his usually quiet house.
“I have a better idea. Not that I’m any big social butterfly, but the woman who was here cleaning my house last week mentioned that some teens from an after-school program go to Butterfly House to do yard care and odd jobs.”
She paused while measuring vanilla into a spoon. “What’s Butterfly House?”
He gazed longingly at the cupcakes but resisted. He didn’t trust her not to give his hand a slap with the spoon she was holding. “It’s a women’s shelter in town. Clara—Ty’s wife? She was a resident there before they were married. Ty’s sister-in-law runs it.”
“You’re friends with the Diamonds.”
“I know them probably better than anyone else in town, but that’s not saying much.”
“Because you keep to yourself.”
He frowned. “Well, yeah.”
She was watching him closely and he started to feel a little bit like he was under a microscope. Sure, he’d told her about Jane last night, because that explained his actions toward her. The rest of his life was off-limits. He had his reasons. And a big part of it was giving himself time for wounds to heal. He wasn’t actually sure they ever would, or if he even wanted them to.
“I’m thinking a group of teenagers would polish off that batch without much trouble,” he added. “I can get you the number.”
“As long as I leave enough for you,” she said with a sly smile as she turned back to whipping the frosting.
“Of course.”
A cry came from the bedroom and they both looked toward the door. “Keep doing what you’re doing, I’ll get her,” he offered.
He picked Nell up from the bottom of the playpen and settled her in the crook of his arm. “Hey there,” he said, still unused to the feel of her in his arms, not to mention the odd catch in his chest that seemed to grab him now that he acknowledged she was his flesh and blood.
“Bah, bah,” Nell said, patting his face with her hand.
“Bah, bah to you, too,” he answered, curling his fingers around her tiny hand and lifting it to his lips. He kissed it and then swallowed thickly. “Let’s see if I can manage a diaper change,” he said to her. It took him ten minutes and a few fumbles, but eventually he had her dry and happy with her soft cotton sleepers snapped up correctly.
Once upon a time he’d wanted this. He’d been close enough he could taste it and then it had been ripped away. When Jane had told him the truth she hadn’t just let him go but she’d taken his hopes for the future with her. Now it was all within his grasp again. Except it wasn’t, not really. When he’d thought of being a dad, he’d pictured the whole enchilada. Not trying to parent from across the country.
And after the IED accident, he’d given up on ever having a family of his own. He certainly didn’t deserve it after the way he’d selfishly deserted his comrades.
But that didn’t matter now, when Nell was right in front of him. “All right, Nell-bell, let’s go see what your mama’s up to,” he suggested, and together they made their way to the kitchen.
Avery slid the cake pans into the oven, and while she was waiting used a simple plastic baggie and cut away the corner in order to pipe swirls of buttercream along the tops of the cupcakes. She was missing some crucial equipment—electric beaters would have been nice, not to mention some real decorating bags and tips, but she made do. Callum’s response to her cream cheese chocolate cupcakes made it all worthwhile. With a smile she rotated her arms and topped another cupcake with the soft frosting.
Well, she wasn’t completely oblivious. She’d seen how he’d looked at her last night. For a moment it had been like the way he’d looked at Crystal all those months ago. With appreciation. With…hunger. Like if either of them had leaned forward just a little he might have kissed her.
“Hey.” His voice came from behind her.
She turned around and something profound stirred in her chest. He was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, Nell cushioned along the inside of his elbow, looking slightly awkward but most importantly, he was trying. There’d been such a change in him since the scene at the gas station. When she’d arrived he’d been a closed-minded, hostile stranger. Now he seemed to be thawing, showing her a kinder, more open side. What Avery hadn’t been prepared for was how right it looked for him to have Nell in his arms. And how much that scared her.
“You want to try a bottle again, or did last night’s remake of The Exorcist scare you off?” she asked.
He chuckled. “I can try again.”
He was a brave one. Wordlessly she opened a can of formula and prepared a bottle. “This time,” she suggested, “try putting a receiving blanket over your shoulder to save your clothes. Just in case.” She reached around him and plucked a soft flannel square covered with yellow ducks from the back of a chair.
“Good idea.”
They disappeared into the living room and Avery, slightly uneasy with the change in dynamic in the house, went back to focusing on her cupcakes. When the last one was frosted, she stepped back and assessed the cakes lined up on the counter. It had only been a week, but she’d missed this. Satisfied, she put the messy dishes in the sink, took her layer cake out of the oven and went to check on Nell and Callum.
Nell’s eyes were wide and content even though she’d already finished with her bottle. She was happy just to lie in Callum’s strong arms. Maybe that was because Callum was, for the first time, truly and completely relaxed. Avery indulged in a tender smile as she looked down at his sleeping face. Not severe like normal, and even when he smiled he often had a pinched look, as if it pained him. Now the crinkles from around his eyes were gone and so was the tightness in his jaw and lips. The image of him laughing last night came back to her, making a warmth spread through her body. When Callum forgot to be broody, he was very nearly irresistible.
And now he was so tired he was napping in the middle of the day. She knew the feeling. He was waking at night, unused to hearing a baby cry, and when he got up at five there was no going back to bed for him like there was for her.
She tiptoed from the room and went to clean up the dishes. She’d wait until Nell started to fuss and then she’d collect her. For now she’d enjoy the tiny reprieve.
Besides, the picture of Callum and Nell curled up together was too sweet to disturb.
Suddenly she had an idea. Callum would want a picture, wouldn’t he? She grabbed her phone from her purse and hurriedly clicked a photo of the two of them.
That way he’d have it when she and Nell were back in Ontario.
She tucked the phone back into her purse. He was her father and he would get a picture. She was Nell’s aunt and she got her 24/7. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it somehow wasn’t fair. And yet the thought of giving Nell up was heartbreaking.
She couldn’t do it. She just hoped that Callum stayed as reasonable about custody as he seemed to be right now.
©Callum woke slowly, aware of a damp spot on his shirt and a kink in his neck. Nell was curled up on his chest, her lashes sweeping the tops of her cheeks as she slept, her lips slightly open. The more he looked at her the more he saw the family resemblance. He still remembered what his sister, Taylor, had looked like when she was born, all soft dark curls and rose-and-cream skin. His brother, Jack, too. Thinking about their childho
od made him feel a bit homesick. He hadn’t spoken to his siblings in months.
There was no doubt that Nell was his. The question now was, what was he going to do about it?
He had no answer. It was still too new. Too…confusing. How could you raise a child from thousands of kilometers away?
As he sat in the chair he realized there was a new scent in the air, something very different from the chocolate of earlier—something rich and spicy that made his mouth water. Music was playing softly on the radio he kept in the kitchen and he paused, listening. Sure enough, Avery was singing along—she didn’t have a bad voice, really—and it sounded like she was keeping the beat with some sort of utensil. Stifling a smile, he pushed himself up from the chair, careful not to wake Nell, and stepped to the doorway of the kitchen.
His gaze was drawn immediately to Avery, standing at the stove with a spoon in her hand. Her back was to him and something hot flickered through him as she moved her hips to the beat of the song. The spoon went round in circles in the pan and her blond ponytail bobbed as she hummed with the verse. But as soon as the chorus came on again her hips started the same subtle gyration.
She had perfect rhythm. And the perfect bottom to display it.
He cleared his throat.
The spoon flew up in her hand as she spun around, startled. Reddish sauce flew off the end and spattered on the wall next to the stove. “You scared me to death!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide. Then she reached for a cloth and hurried to wipe the sauce away. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
“Clearly. You had your groove on.”
She blushed. Up her neck, over her cheeks, right to the roots of her hair.
He stepped forward. “What’s that? It smells great.”
“Oh.” She gathered herself together and smiled. “Spicy Peanut Chicken and Basmati.”
It sounded a bit exotic to his tastes but he wasn’t a picky eater and he liked anything with kick. “I could smell it as soon as I woke up.”
“There’s dessert, too, so that you’ll keep your hands off my cupcakes.” She nodded toward the other end of the counter where a layer cake sat on a plate. “Lemon chiffon with buttercream and coconut.”
She’d had time to bake a cake, too? “How long was I asleep?”
She laughed. “It’s nearly six. Nell fell back asleep, too. She’ll probably be up all night.”
Six? When had he last napped like that?
He looked at her latest creation. She hadn’t just slapped on the buttercream. She’d smoothed it around the sides and on top, and then piped more of the icing around the base in little rosettes. All along the top she’d made five-petaled flowers, each with a little yellow candy in the middle, and she’d dusted the inside of the flower circlet with snowy coconut.
It wasn’t cake. It was art.
“I couldn’t find a lot of supplies in town, so I made do. What do you think?”
What he thought was that if she could do something this beautiful without her regular tools, she must be amazing when she had her whole arsenal at her disposal.
“It looks great,” he said. At her crestfallen expression he realized the compliment had been pretty lackluster. “It’s beautiful, Avery. You’re obviously very good at what you do.”
She waved a hand at him. “Go, wash up and get ready. We can just put Nell in her seat until she wakes up.”
It felt increasingly strange, sharing a table with her. Like…like a family. He hadn’t had that feeling in a really long time nor did he want to get used to it. It wasn’t something he thought he deserved nor did he trust it. He’d played house once before. Thought he’d had it all. He’d been so wrong.
He looked over at Avery, at Nell, tasted the spicy chicken and fragrant rice in his mouth and reminded himself that Avery was not his. And biology aside, neither was Nell. She belonged with Avery. A baby needed a mother. No matter what came of these few weeks, he was certain of that single fact.
When the main dish was cleared away she cut him a huge slab of cake and brought it to him with a glass of cold milk.
The first taste was pure heaven.
The second was even better.
And by the time he had his third, he knew going back to dry sandwiches and store-bought cookies was going to be hell.
Nell awakened as he finished every last crumb, and he watched Avery pour something out of a box into a tiny bowl. She added warm milk from Nell’s bottle and stirred it up, and then she took out the smallest spoon he’d ever seen and put just a bit of the mixture on the tip.
“What are you doing?”
“Oh, Clara suggested I try Nell on a little cereal in the evenings. Just a teaspoon or so. She’s almost five months old now. I was going to wait for six, but Clara said a little rice cereal might do the trick to getting her to sleep through the night. Though after that nap, it might be a while before she’s ready for bed.” She touched the spoon to the baby’s lips and Nell smacked a bit, trying it out, sticking out her tongue. Avery laughed as each little spoonful seemed to end up either smeared on Nell’s face or on her bib. But soon the teaspoon of cereal was gone and she was wiping Nell’s face with a warm cloth.
“Aren’t you having any cake?”
“Once she’s had her bottle and bath.”
“Oh.”
Avery picked up Nell and grabbed the bottle before heading to the living room.
“Avery?” Callum made himself stay in his chair rather than follow.
“Yes?” she called, and he heard the creak of the chair.
“Thanks for dinner,” he answered back.
“You’re welcome,” she said, and he heard the rhythmic sound of his La-Z-Boy rocking back and forth.
He got up from the table and resisted the urge to follow her, to look at her rocking his daughter.
His daughter.
And there it was. That panic again at the very thought. How could he have a child in this world? The world was ugly and flawed. He had no right having children. Jane had at least been right about that.
So he made himself busy putting dishes in the dishwasher. Anything to help him keep his distance. Because Avery and Nell were getting close.
Too close. They made him forget all sorts of things that he needed to remember forever.
Ever since he’d stepped into the kitchen and caught sight of her hips keeping time with the radio, there’d been something else. He’d been tempted to go up behind her and place his hands on her hips, maybe lean forward and whisper something in her ear.
Which was, of course, insane. Of course he hadn’t acted on the impulse. He was rather uncomfortable that he’d had the urge in the first place. Not just now, either. Last night, on the porch. Maybe even before then, like that first day when they’d collided in the hall. It hadn’t only been thoughts of Nell keeping him up at night.
The sound of the baby’s cries echoing through the house was strange, but what was really odd was that it wasn’t exactly unpleasant. Last night it had been 12:42 a.m. He knew because he’d been lying in bed awake, thinking about Avery’s red lips and their confessions in the dark. He’d heard the thin cry as Nell woke, hungry, and Avery’s soft voice answering her. The sounds of Avery heating a bottle in the kitchen and the creak of the floor as she put Nell back to bed.
He’d gone to sleep after that, but it had been restless, leaving him feeling even more tired this morning.
It wasn’t just Nell he had to worry about. It was Avery, and all the uncomfortable feelings she spawned just by being her normal, giving self.
He’d given up wishing long ago. He hadn’t expected to feel these sorts of emotions again, and he both loved her and hated her for making him remember—and hope—when he knew exactly how it all would end.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BUTTERFLY HOUSE WAS a rambling, old-fashioned house painted a restful yellow with white trim. A veranda graced the front, the steps flanked on either side by pots of geraniums and purply-blue lobelia. Avery liked it on sight.
Callum put the truck in Park on the street outside the house. “Do you want me to wait?”
“I know you’ve got work, so I can just drop them off.”
“Or you can stay. I have to go to the hardware store for some supplies to fix the east gate. I can swing by and pick you up on the way back.”
“What about Nell?”
She glimpsed a moment of consternation. If he’d asked, she’d have let him take Nell shopping with him. But Callum was intensely private. At home was one thing, but out about town was another. The last thing he’d want would be taking an infant to a public shop, opening himself up to all sorts of speculation.
“I’ll bring her in,” he offered.
So together they made their way up the walk to the house, Avery with her hands full of treats and Callum with the handle of the car seat in his strong hand. He rang the bell and stepped back, and within moments the door opened.
“Hi, you must be Avery.” A pretty woman with long dark hair that was pulled back in a ponytail smiled at her. “I’m Angela Diamond. We spoke on the phone. Come on in.”
“Thanks. Hope you don’t mind I brought a plus one.” Avery stepped aside to reveal the car seat and Callum.
“Hi, Callum,” Angela greeted. “Good to see you. And who have we here? Oh, my, aren’t you precious!” Angela looked up at Avery. “She’s just a little older than my little guy, Ryan,” she said. “He’s almost eight weeks.”
“Congratulations,” Avery offered. She turned to look at Callum. “We’re okay now. I’ll see you in a little bit?”
“I shouldn’t be more than half an hour or so.”
“Perfect.”
Callum jogged down the steps and started the truck. When he was gone, Avery relaxed and smiled at Angela. “Let’s get these inside before the frosting melts.”
“Good idea.” Angela took the cupcakes and Avery grabbed the seat. They walked through to the large kitchen and Angela put the containers on an island. “Hang on a minute. Ryan’s probably awake by now and they can say hello.”
Avery took Nell out of the seat and balanced her on her hip, looking around the room. Cozy, warm, with a huge kitchen table that seated at least eight. Considering close to half a dozen women lived here, the place was absolutely spotless. When Angela came back with Ryan in her arms, Avery said as much.
Little Cowgirl on His Doorstep (Mills & Boon Cherish) (Cadence Creek Cowboys - Book 3) Page 9
