A Father's Second Chance (Contemporay Christian Romance)

by Mindy Obenhaus

  Pliers. She needed pliers.

  She swept through the dining room, kitchen and into her office. She knew this tool kit would come in handy someday. Picking up the prepackaged case, she thumbed the latches open and lifted the lid.

  “Aha!” Pliers in hand, she marched back to the bathroom. She could do this. She had to do this.

  As she crouched between the toilet and the wall, water splashed onto her arm. She shuddered. Thank goodness it was coming from the tank and not the bowl. Still, the wetter her toes became, the more grateful she was for her sparkling clean bathrooms.

  She fumbled with the pliers before getting a decent grip on the metal valve. Using both hands, she twisted.

  “Any luck?” Bonnie’s voice came from the bathroom door.

  Celeste grunted. “Not yet.”

  “Oh, hallelujah.”

  “What?”

  “Gage just pulled up.”

  Hearing the door swing shut, Celeste gripped and twisted one more time. The thought of Gage coming to her rescue once again held about as much appeal as the toilet water that continued to soak her sleeve.

  “Whoa...looks like I should’ve brought a paddle.” Gage sloshed in behind her and held out a hand.

  Reluctantly, she took hold, trying not to notice the way his muscles strained the fabric of his flannel shirt as he lifted her to her soggy feet.

  Ignoring the sudden pounding of her heart, she glanced toward the door to see where the water was now. “The valve must be rusted open.” Right at the threshold.

  He moved into the stall and bent to try the valve. “Yep, it’s definitely rusted.” Straightening, he faced her again. “I’ll have to cut off the water at the main valve.” He started into the dining room. “Better let the kitchen help know.”

  “Of course.” She followed him, pausing at the counter. “How long will the water be off?”

  “No more than an hour, if that. It’s an easy fix.”

  She lowered her gaze. After all the bad news she’d had lately, she liked the sound of that.

  “Hey.” He locked a finger under her chin and coaxed her to look at him. “Everything will be just fine. I’ll take care of the plumbing. You take care of Cupcake Mania.”

  The unexpected, almost intimate gesture sent a wave of awareness racing through her. His smile was as comforting as Granny’s old quilt. His midnight eyes invited her to trust him.

  He lowered his hand and she found herself missing his touch. “Looks like you’ve got quite a crowd.”

  She tried to speak, but her mouth had gone drier than the Sahara.

  Snap out of it, Celeste. He’s just giving you some friendly encouragement. Don’t read things into it that aren’t there.

  She pried her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “Yes. The response has exceeded my expectations.” She watched another trio of ladies enter. “So, about that water...”

  “I’m on it.” With that, he was out the door.

  Eyeing the stack of bar towels beneath the counter, she grabbed one, toweled off her sweater and washed her hands. Then she grabbed three menus, including printouts of the special Cupcake Mania menu, which included afternoon tea, and went to greet her new arrivals.

  On her way back to the kitchen, she spotted Bonnie near the front door.

  Gage’s mother waved. “Thank you for a delightful afternoon, Celeste.”

  “See you soon, Bonnie.” Between customers and kids, Celeste managed to stay busy, keeping her mind off Gage and the faulty toilet. That is, until she saw him carrying an industrial-sized vacuum through the dining room.

  “Water’s back on,” he said as he passed the kids table. “Soon as I get the water out of there, the ladies’ room will be back in business.”

  “Where’s my daddy going?” Emma leaned against Celeste’s hip, her voice sounding as if she might cry.

  “He’s just fixing something for me, sweetie.” Heat penetrated Celeste’s skin as she tugged the child closer. “Baby, are you okay?” Dropping onto one knee, she laid the back of her hand against Emma’s pink cheeks.

  “I don’t feel good.”

  “Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry.” Celeste laid the child’s head against her clean shoulder, longing to pull her into her lap. “Why don’t I get you a cool rag?”

  “I want my daddy.”

  Celeste’s grip instinctively tightened as memories drifted to the forefront of her mind. Since her mother was always traveling, her father had been the one to take care of Celeste when she got sick. She could still remember the gentleness of his strong hands as he stroked her back.

  The first time she took ill after her parents’ split, Granny was the only one there. And while Celeste loved her grandmother and knew Granny had her best interests at heart, it wasn’t the same. She wanted her daddy. But he either couldn’t or wouldn’t come.

  “Okay, baby.” She settled the child back into her chair. “I’ll be right back.”

  She marched across the dining room and pushed open the bathroom door. The loud whir of the shop vac filled the air. “Gage?”

  His back to her, he was oblivious.

  She’d need a megaphone to be heard over this racket. In the meantime, his daughter was feeling worse by the minute.

  Locating the switch on the canister, she turned the power off.

  He whirled around and spotted her. “Oh, hey. Didn’t see you there.”

  “Emma needs you.”

  “Okay. Tell her I’ll be right—”

  “No, Gage. Your daughter needs you. Now.”

  * * *

  No man should have to endure this many episodes of My Little Pony. But, at this point, Gage would do just about anything to make his baby girl feel better.

  Trying to ignore the mindless chatter coming from the television, he perched on the edge of the sofa, beside Emma. Her long blond hair spread over the pink pillow he’d brought from her bed.

  “How about some chicken noodle soup?”

  She pulled her favorite unicorn blanket, the one she’d had since she was a baby, up to her chin, frowned and shook her head.

  “You need to eat something, sweetheart.” He stroked her arm.

  She started to shake her head, then grinned instead. “Cupcake?”

  So the Tylenol had taken effect. Yet for as much as he wanted to give in... “Emma, your body needs good stuff to make you feel better.”

  “Cupcakes are good.”

  “They taste good, yes, but they don’t have the vitamins and minerals to help your body heal.” He supposed canned soup didn’t offer a whole lot more, though he wasn’t going to let her know that.

  “I don’t want anything to eat.” The words were almost a sigh. She slung an arm over her head and focused on her show again.

  He’d have to try again in a little while.

  Standing, he retreated to the kitchen, glancing at the large round wall clock as he went. Six thirty. No wonder his stomach was complaining. After an early lunch, he hadn’t even had time to snag a cupcake at the restaurant.

  He opened the refrigerator, then the freezer. He should have made a grocery run to Montrose today instead of putting it off until tomorrow. Of course, he’d also contemplated eating dinner at Granny’s Kitchen, but with Emma sick, that wasn’t happening. Too bad Celeste didn’t deliver.

  Thoughts of Celeste gave him pause. After his mother called, he’d grumbled all the way to the restaurant. Playing hero to Celeste once this week was enough for him. But when he entered that bathroom and discovered her crouched beside the toilet, water dripping on what looked to be a very pricey sweater as she tried to turn that valve, a strange tightness wrapped around his heart. In some odd way, he found the sight almost endearing. The fact that she was willing to roll up her fancy sleeves and do what needed to be done s
cored points in his book.

  But why was she so adamant, almost rude, when she realized Emma was sick? She wouldn’t even let him finish vacuuming the water from the bathroom. Did she think he’d expect her to take care of his daughter or that he wasn’t capable? Maybe she couldn’t tolerate kids. Though, from what little interaction he’d witnessed between Celeste and his daughters, he knew that wasn’t the case.

  Still, the urgency, almost panic, was something he wouldn’t have expected from her.

  A knock sounded at the front door.

  “Daddy...”

  “I heard it, sweetheart.” He crossed in front of the TV. Poor kid. Any other time she would have bounded off the couch and beat him to the door.

  Outside the window, the glow of a floodlight revealed that the heavy rains of this afternoon had morphed into a steady drizzle. He reached for the knob and pulled the door open.

  His heart skidded to a stop when he saw Celeste standing on the front porch.

  Wearing an uncertain smile, she lifted a hand to slide the hood of her raincoat back, allowing her long golden ponytail to tumble over her shoulder. In her other hand, she carried what looked like a picnic basket.

  He pushed open the storm door.

  “How’s Emma?”

  “Thanks to Tylenol, her fever is on its way down. At least for the moment.” He made a quick glance over his shoulder. “And My Little Pony seems to be helping, too.”

  That earned him a real smile. “Always worked for me.” She gestured at the basket. “I brought her some of Granny’s chicken soup. Guaranteed to cure almost anything.”

  He hoped Celeste’s offer would elicit a more favorable response than his. “Come on in.” Moving aside, he held the door as she passed.

  Emma’s eyes widened. “Celeste!” She started to hop up, but Celeste intercepted her, gave her a quick hug and encouraged her to lie back down.

  While his daughter’s reaction didn’t surprise him, it did worry him. He didn’t want either of the girls forming any kind of attachment to Celeste. After all, he had no intention of getting married again, to Celeste or anyone else.

  Celeste glanced around the room. “Where’s Cassidy?”

  “Spending the night with my folks.”

  “That’s good. I imagine the only thing worse than one sick child is two.”

  “Pretty much. Though it’s just an ear infection, so I don’t have to worry about Cassidy catching anything.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Ear infections aren’t contagious.”

  “Oh.” A blush crept into her cheeks. “That’s good.” Smiling, she perched beside Emma. “I brought you some of my granny’s famous chicken soup.”

  “Why is it famous?” Emma cocked her head.

  “Well...” Celeste set the basket on the coffee table. “Because it’s cured some of my worst ear infections and just about any other illness I’ve ever had.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. And you do want to get better, don’t you?”

  Emma nodded. “I want soup!” She thrust two fists into the air.

  Celeste laughed. “Okay, then.” She stood and grabbed the basket. “You watch your show while I give this food to your daddy.”

  “Will you stay and eat with us?” Emma cocked her head.

  “Oh. I...hadn’t planned...” Suddenly nervous, Celeste glanced at Gage.

  “Pleeeze...” Emma was never above begging.

  Hands shoved in his pockets, Gage decided Celeste looked kind of cute when she was nervous.

  He shrugged. “It’s okay with me.”

  Under Celeste’s influence, Emma not only ate the chicken soup, but asked for seconds. Now the two of them sat on the couch watching Disney’s Cinderella, while he polished off his meat loaf and mashed potatoes at the table. God bless Celeste for considering the male appetite.

  Emma snuggled against their guest, and Celeste didn’t seem to mind. She draped an arm over Emma, her dark brown eyes glued to the TV.

  By the time Cinderella’s carriage turned back into a pumpkin, Emma had fallen asleep in Celeste’s lap. Yet Celeste remained enthralled in the show, absently stroking his daughter’s hair.

  “I can move her, if you like,” he said as the movie ended.

  “It’s all right. I really don’t mind.” She shifted slightly and smiled down at his daughter, looking relaxed and comfortable. “That was a cute movie. I’ve never seen it before.”

  “Never seen it? I thought all little girls watch princess movies.”

  “Not if their mother is Hillary Ward-Thompson. I was only allowed to watch movies with strong heroines.”

  “And princesses aren’t strong?”

  “No, because they rely on the hero to rescue them.”

  “And that’s bad?”

  “According to my mother.”

  That explained a lot. “So...now that you’ve seen a princess movie, what do you think?”

  She pondered a moment. “I don’t think Cinderella was weak at all. Come to think of it, the only thing the prince actually rescued her from was that wretched family of hers. And the mice were pretty cute, too.”

  “Does that mean you liked it?”

  “Most definitely. It made me smile and gave me that contented sigh at the end.”

  “According to my mother, that contented sigh is because the heroine found her happily-ever-after.”

  “Perhaps. Though happily-ever-afters can come in many different forms.”

  “Yeah.” He felt his daughter’s forehead and cheeks before settling into his recliner. “I think her temp’s back to normal.”

  “Her color looks better.” Celeste eyed him a moment then looked away. “I’m sorry if I was a little bossy today, when I told you she was sick.”

  “But you’re always bossy.”

  She shot him a perturbed glance.

  “I’m kidding.” For the most part, anyway.

  “I wasn’t questioning your skill as a father. But when Emma said she wanted her daddy, well...it kind of stirred up some sad memories.”

  “What kind of memories?” he asked as he leaned back in his recliner.

  “My dad was always my main caretaker because my mom traveled so much for work. I got sick shortly after they divorced and Granny came to live with us.” Her gaze drifted away. “That was the worst sickness ever. All I wanted was my dad. Even Granny’s chicken soup didn’t fill that void.”

  “How old were you?”

  “Eight.”

  Just a year older than Cassidy. He wondered about his girls and how the absence of their mother affected them.

  Celeste adjusted Emma’s blanket. “You’re a good father, Gage. Cassidy and Emma are lucky to have you.”

  “I’d do just about anything for them.” He stretched, then leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Though I feel like I’m in over my head most of the time.”

  “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

  “What? My cooking skills are pretty much limited to fish sticks, mac and cheese and scrambled eggs. I can’t tell the difference between Princess Barbie and Ball Gown Barbie, and I can’t braid hair to save my life.”

  Celeste’s gentle smile encouraged him. “Maybe. But you love them and you’re here for them. That’s all they really need.”

  He knew she was right. But his heart wanted so much more for his daughters. And watching Celeste’s tender, nurturing manner only amplified that longing.

  “Do you mind if I ask what happened to their mother?”

  The question immediately sent him back to that fateful day when he’d come home to find Tracy’s bags packed. At least the pain no longer accompanied the memory.

  I didn’t want one child, let alone two, Gage. This
isn’t the kind of life I want.

  He knew she’d never been keen on the idea of kids, but he thought she’d change her mind. Instead, she sacrificed his daughters at the altar of her dreams.

  “Other things became more important to her than motherhood. She said she was tired of waiting for her life to begin.” He shrugged. “So she left to start a new one.”

  “Do the girls ever see her?”

  “No. She pretty much cut the cord on that relationship.”

  Celeste shook her head, her sympathetic gaze falling to Emma.

  Then he realized it wasn’t sympathy he saw, but empathy. Celeste had suffered the same betrayal of a parent that his girls had. And she understood the extent of their loss better than anyone. Including him.

  After a few moments, she sat up. “It’s getting late. I should be going.”

  “Of course.” He stood and moved to lift Emma from her lap. The child curled against his chest with a soft sigh.

  Celeste stood and tugged on her raincoat. “I’ll grab my basket and be out of your hair.”

  “Let me tuck this little one into bed and I’ll see you out.”

  “No, you take your time. I’ll be fine.” She went into the kitchen, returning with the basket dangling from one hand.

  “I’m sure I speak for Emma, too, when I say thank you for dinner.”

  She stopped in front of him. Stroked Emma’s head, then kissed her cheek. “Sleep well, sweet girl.”

  When she looked up at him, something flashed between them. And based on her sharp intake of air, Celeste had felt it, too.

  What was it about this woman that drove him crazy one moment and conjured up images of hearth and home the next?

  Celeste looked away suddenly, breaking the connection. “I need to go.”

  As he watched her move toward the door, something twisted inside his heart.

  And he found himself wishing the night didn’t have to end.

  Chapter Seven

  Celeste wasn’t easily shaken. But whatever had passed between her and Gage Saturday night not only sent her scurrying home, the conflicted feelings it triggered had persisted into Sunday and Monday. Lucky for her, Monday’s anxiety was soon dulled by exhaustion.