Child of Grace

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Child of Grace Page 16

by Hannon, Irene


  “How is she?”

  It was a perfunctory, polite question—nothing more—and given the subtle shift in her demeanor, she knew that.

  “The neonatal specialist wants to keep her for a few days, but her early arrival didn’t seem to cause any problems other than low birth weight. The biggest worry at the moment is getting her to breastfeed. They’re concerned she doesn’t yet have the coordination to suck and swallow.”

  “That can happen with preemies. She’ll pick it up.”

  “Would you like to come in?” She indicated the room behind him. “Hannah called and told me the fantastic news last night. I have a few publicity ideas I’d like to share with you.”

  “Are you up to that?”

  “I don’t renege on commitments, Luke.” Her voice was steady. Sure. “Just because I had a baby doesn’t mean I’m going to drop the ball on the youth center project. I know how to juggle multiple duties and obligations.” Lifting one shoulder, she lightened her voice. “Besides, I need a diversion. I’m not used to sitting around all day doing nothing.”

  “You could use a little downtime after all that’s happened in the past day and a half. But if you’re sure, I’ll stay for a minute. I’m on my way to a special board meeting at St. Francis to discuss the latest development, and this way I can pass on your thoughts as well.”

  He stepped aside to allow her to enter, setting the flowers on her nightstand after following her in. She eased gingerly onto the side of the bed as he took the chair.

  “Why don’t you start? Any updates since last night?” She shifted, as if trying to get comfortable.

  “Yes. I called our Grammy winner, and she not only agreed to come, she donated two pairs of concert tickets and a backstage tour to the auction. She also solicited several of her celebrity friends to donate autographed personal items.” Luke ticked off a few names.

  “That’s impressive—and it makes my job even easier. Let me run you through the publicity ideas I’ve already jotted down.”

  She reached over to the nightstand, picked up a piece of paper filled with bullet points, and briefed him. When she finished, she lowered the sheet to her lap. “The support of a name entertainer gives us a great opportunity to not only meet, but exceed, your goal. This is exactly what the dinner auction needed in order to garner big bucks and national media attention. If we milk this opportunity for all it’s worth, we may be able to raise not just enough money to build the center, but to create an endowment that could fund operating expenses for years to come. Wouldn’t that be fabulous?”

  Animation lit her face, enhancing her already considerable beauty—and making it difficult to concentrate on the conversation. “Yeah. That would be wonderful. And you can take a lot of the credit for our success. I may have been able to get the ball rolling without you, but I wouldn’t have scored a home run.”

  A flush suffused her cheeks, and she leaned over to set her notes back on the nightstand. As she did so, her hospital gown slipped down her shoulder, revealing the ragged scar near her collarbone. Luke’s gaze got stuck there until she hitched the gown back into place with a firm tug.

  “That’s part of me too, Luke. And it’s not going away, either.”

  Hard as he tried, he couldn’t come up with a response to her quiet comment.

  Some of the light in her face dimmed, and she tucked her blond hair behind her ear. Folded her hands in her lap. “I know you were blindsided the other night, when I told you my story. And I understand that. I also know you were probably shocked when I made my decision on the spot after Grace was born. But I’d been praying for guidance, and God gave it to me the instant I looked into my daughter’s eyes.”

  She leaned forward, her posture intent. “Here’s the bottom line, Luke. Because of Grace, my life was transformed. Not in the manner I would have chosen, but the end result has been positive. I thought I’d sacrificed the dream of a family to my career. Now I have one. I carried Grace near my heart for eight months, and during those months she claimed a part of it. I can’t give her up—nor do I want to. She needs me and I need her. However…there’s room for more people in our circle of love.”

  Luke already knew Kelsey and Grace were a package deal—but hearing it put into words hollowed out his stomach. Especially now that she’d made it clear she was interested in exploring their relationship.

  But it was only fair to repay honesty with honesty.

  “I wish I could say your choice doesn’t make any difference to us. But it does. Your scar will fade, but Grace will always be present, a vivid reminder of violence. She’s part of you, yes, but part of him too. And she’s part of an incident that feels like a punch in the gut whenever I think about it. I’m not sure I can get past that.”

  A resigned sadness dulled the vibrant green of her irises. “I’m sorry, Luke. For all of us.” She gave him a shaky smile. “Let me know how the meeting goes. In the meantime, I’ll start making media contacts.”

  The subject was closed. She’d taken her stand, and she wasn’t backing down.

  Luke stood and moved to the end of the bed, feeling more alone than he ever had in his life. “How long are they going to keep you here?”

  “Dr. Evans plans to spring me tomorrow. Dorothy said she’d pick me up.” She waited, as if hoping he might offer to take her home instead.

  He didn’t.

  “Sounds like a plan.” He steeled himself against the flicker of pain in her features. “I’ll be in touch after the board meeting.”

  “Thanks.” She motioned to the flowers. “And thank you again for these.” She shifted away from him and arranged the pillow. Waiting for him to leave.

  So he did.

  But instead of going straight to the exit, he found himself walking toward the nursery.

  Grace was easy to spot through the large window. She was still in the enclosed crib, several monitors stuck to her chest, wearing the pink cap. Now that her hair was dry, the fine gold ringlets peeking out were the same shade as her mom’s.

  As if sensing his presence, she turned her head his direction, stuck her thumb in her mouth, and gave him a solemn perusal. As if to say, “Why don’t you like me?”

  And that was the problem. He didn’t dislike this innocent infant. He disliked what she represented. Even now, as he looked at her, the nightmare Kelsey had endured at the hands of her attacker set fury churning in his gut.

  All at once, Grace’s face puckered and grew red. Kicking her tiny legs and flailing her arms, she began to cry—almost as if she’d read his expression or sensed his mood. Which only reinforced his conviction that trying to play the role of father to her wouldn’t be in her best interest.

  One of the nurses moved beside her, blocking his view, and he took that as his cue to leave. No noise followed him down the hall from the soundproof nursery, but Grace was sobbing her heart out. Yearning for the comfort of Kelsey’s arms.

  At least the two of them had that much in common—even if only one of them seemed destined to have their wish come.

  * * *

  Two hours later, as Grace finally got the hang of breastfeeding, Kelsey let out a relieved sigh and cuddled the infant close. That was one encouraging development today.

  “That’s Mommy’s good girl.” She touched one of her daughter’s ringlets, the hair so fine it was like the whisper of an angel against her fingertips. “Now your little tummy will be full. And I’ll never let it be empty again.”

  Grace watched her, those big eyes filled with innocence and absolute trust as they claimed yet another chunk of real estate in Kelsey’s heart.

  Too bad Luke was immune to their charms.

  But painful as it was to give up the possibility of a future with Luke, letting go of her daughter wasn’t an option. Not anymore. Even if that was a deal breaker.

  “She appears to be making up for lost ground.”

  At the nurse’s comment, Kelsey willed her tears into submission. “I think she was very hungry.”

  Th
e nurse studied her. “Are you having some pain?”

  “No.” Not with the breastfeeding. Her heart was another story. “I’m fine. Just a little emotional.”

  “That can happen with new moms.” The nurse tucked the blanket around Grace. “Too many hormones running wild. They’ll settle down soon, though, and you’ll feel more like yourself.”

  The nurse moved on, and Kelsey eased back, keeping Grace tucked close.

  More like herself.

  But who was Kelsey Anderson these days? The corporate-ladder-climbing Kelsey from a year ago didn’t exist anymore. The pregnant Kelsey agonizing over her options was gone. The romantic Kelsey who’d begun to think that maybe—just maybe—she might be destined to share her tomorrows with a handsome army doctor had also vanished.

  So who was left?

  Grace seized her gown and tugged—giving her one answer.

  Kelsey the mom was left. So was Kelsey the independent business owner.

  And with or without Luke, that woman would endure.

  Even if she much preferred that it be with Luke.

  * * *

  As Luke swung into his driveway, he glanced at Kelsey’s cottage through the trees. No sign of her, as usual. Nor had there been—other than a light here and there through the trees—since she’d come home two days ago.

  Not that he’d been around much anyway. News of their special guest star and celebrity auction items had kept him racing around at full throttle, doing a whole new round of interviews Kelsey had arranged and meeting with the manager at the hotel where the event was being held. They’d had to move the dinner to the grand ballroom to accommodate the surge in ticket requests.

  He slid out of the car and shut the door. Started toward his house. Hesitated.

  Talking to Kelsey by phone over the past three days, discussing details about promotional opportunities, hadn’t been the same as seeing her. Nowhere close.

  But in light of the line she’d drawn in the sand during their last face-to-face encounter, seeking her out wouldn’t be smart. Despite his neighbor’s potent appeal, Grace was a stumbling block. Period.

  They were at an impasse.

  And unless something drastic changed, they were destined to stay that way.

  * * *

  Easy to assemble?

  Ha!

  Kelsey muttered a few withering comments as she reread the bold heading on the instructions and surveyed the pieces of the crib she’d purchased this afternoon, spread around the floor of her living room.

  It would take an engineer to put this thing together. And where was the packet of screws that was supposed to be included?

  She ought to shove the pieces into the box and haul the crib back to the store in Holland where she’d bought it.

  Except the end of the box was ripped to shreds. The crib weighed a ton, and dragging it across the gravel drive to the house had done a number on the cardboard.

  It hadn’t been great for her, either. Dr. Evans would have a fit if she heard about it. While driving was fine, heavy lifting wasn’t.

  But how else was she supposed to get it inside? It wasn’t as if she had anyone to help her.

  The print on the instructions blurred, and a wayward tear plopped onto the paper, smudging the type. Now it was hard to decipher.

  Kind of like her life.

  Give yourself a break, Kelsey. You’re tired from all the trips to the hospital to see Grace. You’re frustrated. You’re still healing. You’ll get this put together. You don’t need the crib until Sunday at the earliest. That’s three days. Everything will work out. You’ll feel more normal after your hormones settle down.

  Thankfully, the left side of her brain kicked in again after her little pep talk. Maybe the screws had fallen out the bottom of the box as she’d dragged it from the car to the house. It was worth investigating, anyway.

  Using the sofa to steady herself, she rose. Her lighter weight was requiring a bit of adjustment. At the rate her body was returning to normal, she’d fit back into her pre-pregnancy clothes much faster than she’d expected. That was one positive.

  After a final survey of the mess on her living room floor to confirm that the packet of screws was indeed missing, she marched toward the back door. She was a smart woman. She had a knack for design, an intuitive sense of how pieces should fit together. So she’d find the screws. Start fresh on the crib. And she would get it put together!

  All by herself.

  * * *

  From his seat on the deck, Luke caught a movement next door through the trees.

  Kelsey.

  He sat up straighter as she walked down the driveway toward her car, her attention fixed on the ground in front of her, as if she was searching for something. When she reached the car, she got down on her hands and knees and peered underneath.

  What was going on?

  Luke set his soft drink on the table beside his barely touched microwave dinner and rose. She ought to be resting, not performing gymnastics. Why wasn’t her sister doing whatever it was that had to be done?

  Unless she hadn’t yet arrived.

  That was possible.

  Kelsey had sidestepped his query about her sister’s ETA during one of their phone conversations.

  Meaning she could be alone—and in need of help. And she wasn’t likely to ask for any from him, given their last conversation at the hospital.

  But just because a romance didn’t appear to be in the cards for them was no excuse not to be a good neighbor.

  Leaving his soda behind, he strode across the lawn and cut through the woods, emerging a few feet from Kelsey. “I saw you through the trees. What’s going on?”

  At his question, she jerked and turned toward him, listing to one side as she lost her balance.

  He sprang toward her and grabbed hold of her arms until she was steady. “Sorry. I got the feeling you were in search mode and came over. Here, let me help you up.” He extended his hand.

  She took it, and he drew her to her feet.

  “I thought I might have dropped a pack of screws. But I don’t see them anywhere.” She scanned the ground again.

  “What were you doing with a pack of screws?”

  “They’re for the crib I’m putting together.” She took a few steps toward the back of the car. “I think they forgot to put them in the box.”

  “You’re putting a crib together? By yourself?”

  “Trying to, anyway. The box said it was easy to assemble. What a joke—even if I did have all the parts.”

  He frowned. “You carried a heavy crib into the house by yourself?”

  She bit her lower lip and went into search mode again, turning away from him. “It was no big deal.”

  “Didn’t your doctor tell you not to do any heavy lifting for at least two weeks?”

  “It wasn’t heavy, just awkward. And I didn’t lift. I dragged. They put it in the car for me at the store.”

  “Why didn’t your sister help you?”

  Hand on the trunk, she swiveled toward him. “She’s not coming. She and two of her kids have the flu. The bad, full-blown kind. She won’t be able to get away for two or three weeks, and by then I won’t need her.”

  Luke propped his fists on his hips. “I live next door, Kelsey. Why didn’t you ask me for help?”

  She shrugged. “You’re busy with the youth center project. I didn’t want to bother you.”

  “It’s too late to worry about bothering me.” He let a beat pass while she digested his meaning. “However, I don’t mind being bothered with practical problems. Show me the crib and we’ll see if we can get it assembled.”

  There was no way he was going to let her refuse his offer. She was too pale, and there were lines of fatigue around her mouth, half-moon shadows under her lashes. Translation? She’d been pushing herself too hard and needed help—whether she wanted to admit it or not.

  After a moment, she conceded defeat…more or less.

  “Thanks. I know I’d figure it out even
tually on my own, but two heads may be better than one—if we can find the missing screws.”

  An hour and a half later, after they’d located the screws and he’d appropriated the hands-on role—delegating her to reading the instructions and finding the parts—he leaned back on his heels and examined the result of their labor.

  “It’s pretty, don’t you think?” Kelsey ran a hand over the pristine white crib, letting her fingers linger on the whimsical fairies that decorated the edge of the headboard.

  “Very nice.” Luke rose. “Where do you want it?”

  “In the first guest room. I’m going to take down the bed that’s in there, but for now I can put the crib along the inside wall.”

  She moved to one side, as if to help, but he lifted a hand to stop her. “I can handle it. Remember—no heavy lifting.”

  “Fine.”

  She preceded him into the hall and flipped on the light. After hefting the crib, he followed her to the bedroom and set it beside the wall in the spot she indicated.

  “Do you want me to take that down for you?” He indicted the double bed.

  “Not tonight. Thanks.”

  “Whenever you’re ready, let me know.”

  “It will have to be soon. You’ll be leaving in twelve days. The Tuesday after the benefit, right?”

  “Right.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and propped a shoulder against the wall. “You’ll have the beach all to yourself again.”

  “How come that isn’t as appealing as it once was?” A tear spilled onto her cheek, and she swiped it away with a shaky huff. “Sorry. My hormones are wacky. I get emotional over everything.”

  “My hormones are fine.” He slowly closed the distance between them, until they were inches apart. “But I get emotional when I think about leaving too.”

  Her breath hitched, and the sudden yearning in her eyes set his pulse racing.

  He lifted a hand. Stroked it down her arm. Lifted the other. Repeated the motion. All the while watching her slightly parted, oh-so-appealing lips.

 

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