by Shirley Jump
He was glad Katie had made dinner. She’d probably realized the restaurant plans would have to be changed and instead of getting mad, she’d taken care of dinner. He was beyond grateful for her thoughtfulness. Now, he could stay, spend time with the kids and Katie. Maybe the day could still be salvaged, after all.
He dropped his keys on the counter, then slipped in behind the three of them. “Looks like I’m just in time for the dance party.”
Libby looked back at him, then made a face, and immediately Sam felt the coolness in the air between himself and his daughter. At the same time, the song came to an end, and she stopped dancing. “You’re too late. We’re done now.”
“It’s not too late, Libby Bear. We can put on another song—”
“You’re too late!” she shouted. “You’re always too late!” Then she spun on her heel and ran out of the room. A second later, Sam heard the slam of Libby’s bedroom door.
Katie put Henry down. “Why don’t you go play with your blocks while I finish up dinner?”
Henry nodded and took off for the living room. Katie leaned over and switched off the radio, then went back to the stove. She didn’t talk to him, didn’t so much as acknowledge his presence.
Great. He’d ticked everybody off.
“I’m sorry I’m home so late,” he began. “And I hate to do this, but I need to work Wednesday and Thursday night and both weekend days. Just a few hours, I swear. I’m hoping you can take the kids for me.”
She shook her head. “I thought you told me just yesterday how you regretted working too much and not being here with your kids.”
“I did. I do. But I’m just starting at a new firm and they expect a lot out of me since I’m new and I thought I’d have the flexibility I had at my old job, but there’s this big mall project and...” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Katie.”
“I’m not the one you need to apologize to.” She stirred the pasta, then the sauce, and paused to check the bread sitting under the oven broiler, toasting to a golden brown. Katie tugged off her apron and laid it on the counter. She didn’t look at him, didn’t grace him with one of those amazing smiles. Instead, she was as distant as she would have been with a stranger. “Dinner should be ready in five more minutes. All you have to do is drain the pasta and take the bread out of the oven in a couple minutes. Everything else is done.”
He glanced at the table. Three place settings had been laid out. The fourth empty chair seemed to mock him. “You’re leaving?”
“My job is done today. Enjoy your dinner.”
“Wait.” He reached for her and stopped her. She turned and looked at him, but her face stayed impassive and cold. The warmth and light from yesterday had dimmed. “Stay. Eat dinner with us.”
“I can’t.” She broke away from his grip, grabbed her purse and crossed the kitchen. “I’m sorry, Sam. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Katie...”
She turned back at the doorway. Her eyes filled; her face took on a shadow. Whatever warmth had been between them the last few days was gone now. “Libby and Henry weren’t the only ones disappointed today, Sam. But they’re the only ones you need to make it up to. Go spend time with your kids. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
Later that evening, Katie was sitting on the front porch, nursing a glass of wine. After leaving Sam’s house, Katie had stopped in town to do a little shopping and grab a bite to eat. When she’d gotten back to the inn, she’d sent out several emails to contacts she had in the accounting industry in Atlanta, asking about job opportunities. Moving forward, she told herself. Or maybe just avoiding the present. Either way, she was going to sit here and drink her wine and unwind, and not dwell on how Sam had let the kids down today.
Let her down.
“I’m heading home to my man,” Della said, joining her on the porch. “Do you need anything else? Mavis is inside, and she’ll have breakfast ready first thing in the morning.”
Katie liked Mavis, Della’s partner in the B and B. She was a buxom African-American woman, warm and friendly, with a ready smile and a fondness for peanut butter fudge. Mavis lived on-site while Della went home to her own house a few blocks away every night. “No, I’m good. Thanks, Della.”
“What happened with Sam? I thought I was supposed to watch the kids tonight while you guys went out. But he texted a while ago and said plans had changed.”
“Nothing happened. We just...changed our minds.” Katie took a long sip of the wine. It didn’t ease her disappointment. She should be glad. After all, not dating Sam allowed her to focus on her game plan going forward. She wasn’t going to be Sam’s nanny forever, which meant she needed to get back to her real job. Send out some more emails tonight, make use of the contacts she had in her database. Eventually she would have to leave Stone Gap and go back to reality in Atlanta. To her apartment, her life.
Della sank into the opposite wicker chair. “You okay, honey? You look...sad.”
“I just thought Sam was...different.” But in the end, he did what every other man she knew did—he said a lot of fancy words about wanting to settle down and be a family man, and instead made work his family.
It all told her one thing: when she needed him, Sam wouldn’t be there and she’d be left to deal with things alone. Hadn’t she learned that lesson with Leonard? Seen it firsthand tonight with Sam? All those extra hours he was going to work, the trips and dinners he was going to miss?
Losing the baby had been devastating. Katie could still picture the doctor, clutching his medical chart, with this uncomfortable look of sympathy on his face. “Do you have someone to drive you home?” he’d asked.
She’d had no one to hold her hand, no one to tell her it would all be okay. She wasn’t going to be stupid enough to get involved with another man who wasn’t there when things got rough.
Della put a hand on Katie’s. “Some men are afraid to slow down. I think they’re afraid they won’t be up to the challenge of kids. They can tackle a ten-hour meeting with a roomful of lawyers, or negotiate for half a day on a piece of equipment, but when it comes to kids...they get scared.”
“But it’s Sam’s own kids. If anything, it should be easy for him.” Easier, certainly, than it had been for Katie. Every time Libby or Henry hugged her or took her hand, she could sense them seeking that connection with someone maternal. Those moments still caused a little hiccup of pain in Katie’s heart, a reminder that she’d blown her one and only chance at being a mother.
“I think some men feel out of their element around kids,” Della went on. “All that playtime and pretending and silly song singing. And then there are all those expectations. Kids are...precious and men know that. And so many of them are afraid that if they say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing, they’ll screw them up and the whole family will end up on Dr. Phil.” Della smiled. “My Bobby was like that when the boys were little. He held them like they were bombs that were ready to detonate at any second. It took him a long time to relax and have fun with them. But still there were years...”
Katie waited for Della to continue, sensing that whatever she was about to say was something she didn’t share often. Della toyed with the wicker arm for a long moment.
“We had some hard years when we were married,” she said finally. “Bobby worked a lot, spending more time under a Buick than he did at home. And when he was there, the boys didn’t know how to engage with him. They gravitated toward me, even though they loved their dad and would do anything to spend more time with him.”
“What changed? Because from what Colton says, all the Barlow boys are close to their dad.” Since Colton had met his biological family, he’d kept Katie updated on everything Jack, Luke, Mac and Bobby were up to. She almost felt like she knew them all, just from the conversations she’d had with her brother. She was glad he’d found a family to lov
e, a family who clearly loved him back. And maybe she was also a teeny bit jealous, too, that he had all that. Katie would never know her real father, and had no real relationship with her mother, but she could live vicariously through Colton and maybe that would be enough.
“What changed? The flu.” Della laughed softly. “I know that sounds crazy, but that’s what it was. Bobby got sick first, spent three days in bed, which was unheard of for a man who worked six days a week. Then the boys got it, and then me. I could barely lift my head, I was so sick, and Bobby had to stay home and tend to the boys. At first, it was all changing sheets and making chicken soup from a can, but then the boys got better, and Bobby took them with him, fishing and to the garage, to give me time to rest. By the time I was better, the boys and Bobby were thick as thieves.”
Maybe that was what Sam needed. Some one-on-one time with his kids where they were all having fun. Katie had a feeling that all Sam did when he was home alone with the kids was clean and cook and try to keep the house running. He needed to be out there, finger painting and running the hose and dancing in the kitchen. Maybe if her own mother had done more of that, Katie would have felt like she was living with an actual parent, and not a detached roommate. “And they stayed that way ever since?”
Della nodded. “Bobby would need a little nudging from time to time, to remember what was important, but yes, he did work hard at having a relationship with his sons. And in turn, that made our marriage stronger. We were a team, in every sense of the word. And I’ll tell you, when the going gets tough, that’s what you need to be—a team.”
Katie scoffed. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that with any man.”
Della got to her feet. She gave Katie’s shoulder a pat. “Those kind of men are out there. They’re rare, but that’s what makes them so special.”
She twirled the wineglass, watching the liquid rise and fall against the curved edge. “I don’t know where I’m going to find one.”
A smile curved across Della’s face. “There are an awful lot of men like that right here in Stone Gap. You might have already met one.” Then she said good-night and headed down the stairs and out to her car.
Katie sipped the rest of her wine and watched the lights of Stone Gap turn on and off. People going home, having dinner, reading bedtime stories, saying good-night. The night was warm, the air carrying the faint scent of ocean, and the streets were quiet, punctuated by the occasional call of a night bird. Katie started to get to her feet when she saw a set of headlights coming down the street, then stopping outside the Stone Gap Inn.
Sam stepped out of his car and stood in the pale white glow of the streetlight. Katie’s heart stuttered.
“Can we talk?” he said.
“Where are the kids?”
“After they were asleep, I asked Colton to come by. I figured if Henry woke up, he’d be in heaven, with a real-life firefighter in his house.” Sam gestured toward the porch. “Can I come up there?”
If he sat beside her, she’d be tempted to touch him, to lean into him, despite everything that had happened this afternoon. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“A beer would be fabulous.”
“I’ll go grab one.” She welcomed the opportunity to go in the house, to take a few seconds to grab a beer for Sam and on the way back, primp in the mirror. Not that she cared what he thought, of course. But that didn’t stop her from smoothing a few flyaway strands of hair or checking to make sure her eye makeup hadn’t smudged. She went outside to the porch and handed Sam his drink. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” He took the beer in both palms, but didn’t drink. “I’m sorry about today. And tonight.”
“It’s okay. I told you.”
“No, it’s not okay. You’re right. But I just can’t seem to find a way to make it all work. My new job is more demanding than I had expected, and that means I need to put in the hours, make the connections, send out the emails. But I can’t do that and be home and be present, too. There are only so many hours in the day.”
“Then you have to prioritize.” She sat back in the wicker chair, easing into the thick cushion. “Your kids need you, Sam. They want to have a relationship with you. I’m just the nanny and I won’t be there forever. But you will be.”
She’d taken steps tonight to make her return to Atlanta. She’d thought it would make her sleep easier, but instead, the thought of going back there made her...sad.
He sighed. “There’s so much to worry about, so many things to remember, to do.”
“You don’t have to do everything, Sam. Just the things that are important.”
“It’s all important, Katie. Making sure the kids have a roof over their heads, food in their bellies, shoes to wear to school—those are my first priorities. Those have to come before watching Henry climb on a fire truck.”
She thought of what Della had said, and about what she herself had seen in Sam over the last couple weeks. How he escaped instead of being plugged in. With his kids, with her. He’d missed more than just a fire truck adventure tonight, and she had to wonder if she was lumped in there in his mind with all the other things that he had to do. “Are you sure you aren’t just using work as an excuse?”
“What kind of excuse could I be looking for?”
“Maybe...” She fiddled with the stem of the wineglass. “Maybe you’re afraid that you lost that connection to the kids and you’re working so you don’t have to deal with that. Or find out that it’s too late to restore it.”
He got to his feet. “You don’t have children, Katie. You don’t know how tough this is. You know what I’m most afraid of? Letting my kids down. Losing the only things they have left—the house, the toys, the things that remind them of their mother. So I go to work every day and pay the bills and pray that I don’t end up in a car accident, too, and leave my kids with no one.”
The words hit her hard. She scrambled to her feet and took several steps away. “Just because I don’t have kids doesn’t mean I don’t understand or that I can’t sympathize with you.”
“I... I don’t mean to say that. It’s just different when you finally hold your child. There’s this feeling that comes over you, and it’s so powerful and so overwhelming. In that moment, when you look down at your baby’s face, you know there is nothing in the world that could ever be more important than that child.”
Her hand went to her belly, to the space that had once held her own baby. From the minute she’d realized she was pregnant, she’d felt that sense of protection. But in the end, her body had betrayed her, and the baby she’d sworn to keep safe had died, without ever seeing the world. Then she thought of her mother. Had there ever been a moment when Vanessa had looked at Katie and felt that kind of overpowering love and protection? Or had she seen only the work, the responsibilities involved?
“Maybe someday I’ll know what that’s like,” Katie said softly.
He laid a hand on her shoulder. “When that day comes, I’m sure you’ll be a great mom, Katie.”
She shook her head and cursed the tears that burned the back of her eyes. “You don’t know that.”
“I’ve seen you with my kids. They love you, and are doing so well with you. And I know you’re right. I should be there more.” Sam sat still for a long time, not saying a word. His gaze dropped to the floor, and he dangled the beer between his fingers. “What if...”
“What?” she prompted, when he didn’t finish.
“What if I suck at being with them? What if I can’t do the crafts or remember Libby’s favorite cereal or tuck Henry in with the right bedtime story? What if I’m not—” he lifted his gaze now, and she saw a shimmer in his eyes “—as good of a parent as my wife was?”
“You won’t be the same parent your wife was, no matter what you do, Sam.” She drew in a breath. “You’re you, and that’s awesome just the way
you are. I see the way they light up when you are around.”
“Henry, yes, but Libby...” He shook his head. “When I was a kid, my dad worked all the time. I vowed I would be a different father, that I would be there to build the tree houses and play the games and read the stories. Then we brought Libby home from the hospital and she cried for, I swear, six months straight. Wendy was the only one who could soothe her, get her to eat, sleep. I felt...left out. So I worked and worked, and by the time Henry came along, my career was in full swing and it just—” he let out a breath “—became easier to work instead of...”
“Failing again,” she finished. She knew that avoidance technique. Heck, she could have written the book on it. “You’re not the only one who uses work to avoid the hard stuff, Sam. When I was young, it was school. I was OCD student of the year. I kept thinking if I got better grades, my parents would show up in my life. They never did. Later, I replaced that with work. It was a...”
“Refuge,” Sam finished for her.
She nodded. “Exactly.”
He ticktocked the beer back and forth. “We’re so much alike, Katie. It’s no wonder I’m attracted to you.”
Just like that, the tone between them shifted. She could feel the wine kicking in, making her a little warmer, a little braver. “You’re attracted to me?”
He got to his feet, then reached out and crossed to her. “I think that’s been pretty obvious from the beginning.”
“Hot for teacher, huh?” She gave him a flirty smile.
“Hot for a teacher who makes a simple skirt look like a sin.” He smiled back, then closed the gap between them and kissed her. Like their first kiss, it was sweet and tender, slow and easy.
Or at least it started that way. As soon as Katie leaned into him, Sam’s body responded. He clutched her tighter and kissed her deeper. She curved her small frame into him, yet she fit exactly against his chest. His hands roamed over her back, her buttocks, her hips, then back up again, wanting more, yet at the same time painfully aware that they were standing on Della’s front porch, and a kiss was as far as they could go.
