Weighing in at five pounds ten ounces, Katelynn was the tiniest thing Celeste had ever laid eyes on. And the way she smelled...Celeste breathed deep, recalling the fragrance. So sweet. Blissful. Pure.
By the time all was said and done, she’d ended up staying way longer than she intended, opting to hold the baby while Trent, Blakely and Austin enjoyed their meal. Who knew that something as simple as holding a baby could bring such joy?
She shook her head, grateful she’d elected to put the top down on her convertible today. The crisp autumn breeze blew through her hair, exhilarating her senses. With any luck, it would carry away the crazy thoughts she’d been entertaining. Thoughts of motherhood, of Gage and Cassidy and Emma.
The midafternoon sun was warm on her skin when she paused at a stop sign. And though she had things to do at home, it was too nice of a day to retreat just yet. Instead, she took a left onto Main Street and followed the winding turns south of town until she came to the overlook.
Exiting her vehicle, she marveled in the majestic view. No matter which way she turned, she was surrounded by mountains. Fir trees meandered up the oft-steep slopes, eventually giving way to barren rock formations. Snow-tipped peaks gleamed under a cloudless sky. A sky that was the bluest blue she’d ever seen.
Gage was right. She really did need to get out of the restaurant more often. One couldn’t simply live in Ouray. One needed to experience it.
Pulling out her camera, she snapped one shot after another.
God, if this is not proof of You and Your awesomeness, I don’t know what is.
She peered over the top of the camera. Simply breathtaking.
As much as she wanted to linger, there were things she needed to tend to back at her condo. Things like preparing for the reopening of Granny’s Kitchen and going over her lists for the fall festival. They’d made a lot of headway yesterday, but she didn’t want anything falling through the cracks.
She wound her way back into town and headed straight home. Turning onto Second Street, she noticed two little blond-haired girls chasing each other in the yard across from hers. She smiled, glancing at the beaded bracelets on her wrist. While doing inventory yesterday, someone came across a large bag of beads and some stretchy plastic cord. So, when Cassidy and Emma got bored, Celeste presented them with the find and told them to have fun.
Later, they each gave her a colorful bracelet, stating that they made them especially for Celeste. It was all she could do to hold back tears. No gift had ever meant more.
Thumbing the button on the garage door opener, she waved before turning into her driveway. The girls returned the gesture with a gusto that warmed her heart.
Once safely in the garage, she killed the engine and got out, bringing with her the basket she’d used to take the food to Blakely’s.
“What’s in the basket?”
She jumped at the sound of Emma’s voice. “Sweet girl, you nearly scared me half to death.” Moving in the direction of the open door, she noticed that Cassidy was with Emma, but saw no signs of Gage. “Does your father know you two are over here?”
The girls looked at each other before shaking their heads.
“But we wanted to see you,” said Emma.
Celeste laid a hand on her shoulder. “I like it when I get to see you, too. But what about your daddy? Don’t you think he’d be worried if he came outside and couldn’t find you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Cassidy lowered her gaze.
Emma, on the other hand, didn’t appear to share her sister’s remorse.
“Come on.” Celeste set the basket on her trunk then took each girl by the hand and started across the street.
“You didn’t tell us what was in the basket.” Emma squinted against the sun as she peered up at Celeste.
“Nothing. I used it to take some food to a friend.”
“What kind of food?” Emma was nothing if not curious.
“Oh, some pot roast, mashed potatoes, green beans...and some cookies.”
“Cookies? I love cookies.”
“Celeste already said the basket was empty.” Cassidy glowered at her sister.
But I have more at home. Celeste had to keep from blurting the words out. As much as she’d love to have the girls come to her house, Gage might have other plans.
About the time they reached the bottom step, Gage emerged from his house. “Girls— Oh, there you are.” He smiled down at them. That is, until his gaze landed on Celeste.
Emma let go of her hand and marched up the steps. “We wanted to see Celeste, Daddy.”
“They saw me pulling into my driveway,” she offered.
“Can we go to Celeste’s house? Please, Daddy?”
He crossed his arms over his chest in that hulking manner and eyed Emma first, then Celeste. “I’m sure Celeste has better things to do than entertain you two.”
Was he trying to spare her or did he actually believe she’d be bothered by his daughters? True, she did have things to do, but nothing that couldn’t wait. She slept late, after all. Meaning she’d likely be up late.
“I don’t mind.” She sent him her best smile, hoping to erase that wary expression of his. “Matter of fact, you’re welcome to come, too, if you like.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to take them back. She wanted to spend time with Cassidy and Emma. Having Gage there might change the dynamics. Or at least make her behave like somebody other than herself.
Cassidy released her other hand, then bounded up the stairs. “Oh, yes, Daddy. Please say you’ll come, too.”
Over the next few moments, Gage refused to look at either her or the girls. He shifted his weight from one foot to the next. His jaw flexed. He didn’t want to come. But he also didn’t like to disappoint his girls. Still, they’d only be across the street.
“I have some fresh cookies.” Stomach fluttering, she wondered why on earth she’d said that.
“Cookies!” Emma bounced alongside her father.
Gage’s shoulders drooped. His arms fell to his sides in defeat. “All right, we can go.” His gaze sought out Celeste’s, emphatic and challenging at the same time. “But just a quick visit.”
Somehow she doubted that. Lord, what have I gotten myself into?
* * *
Gage could think of at least a dozen other things he’d rather be doing besides hanging out in Celeste’s pristine condo. He was missing the Broncos game, for crying out loud. Midway through the third quarter they were behind, but only by a field goal.
His girls wanted to be here, though. And given his mixed emotions regarding Celeste, that meant he needed to be here, too.
Topping the stairs that led to the condo’s main living area, he was surprised to see boxes of pantry items and pans stacked along the wall in the dining room, the table covered in stacks of papers and the glass-topped coffee table still bearing signs of last night’s dinner. Not nearly as fussy as he remembered.
“You’ll have to excuse the mess.” Celeste dropped the basket and her purse into a chair and hurried to retrieve the plate and cup from the living room. “I got a little lazy this week.” Pink tinged her cheeks as she scurried into the kitchen, as though she were nervous or embarrassed. Both out of character.
Suddenly feeling the need to put her at ease, he said, “No problem. I mean, it’s not like I’m known for my spotless house.”
Returning, she sent him a shy smile. Something he hadn’t seen before. And found annoyingly attractive.
“Ooh...pretty cups,” said Emma.
Grateful for the distraction, he searched for his daughters, finding them on the other side of the room, their noses pressed against the glass of a curio cabinet. Funny, he thought they were right beside him.
“Aren’t they, though?” Celeste moved toward them. “That’s my Granny’s teacup collect
ion.” She twisted a switch on the cord behind the case, illuminating the colorful display. “Which one do you like the best?”
“I like the one with the pink flowers.” Emma was as animated as ever.
“I think that one is my favorite.” Cassidy pointed to a deep purple cup with gold trim.
When it came to colors, his girls were so predictable.
“Excellent choice,” said Celeste.
“Which one is your favorite?” Cassidy waited.
“Hmm...” Celeste furrowed her brow. “That’s a hard choice, because I like them all. But if I had to choose just one—” she opened the case and reached inside “—it would have to be this one.” She picked up a cream-colored cup with blue flowers trailing up the side.
“I like that one, too,” said Emma.
Celeste laughed. “Say, do you girls like milk with your cookies?”
Both nodded.
“Me, too. So what do you say we drink our milk from our favorite teacup?”
“Yay!” Emma bounced.
“Whoa. Hey.” Touching Celeste’s elbow, Gage tried to ignore the softness of her sweater and tugged her aside. “Are you sure you want to do that? After all, they were your grandmother’s.” He glanced at his daughters. “What if they broke one?”
She looked up at him with those dark eyes. “Gage, my grandmother always said that beautiful things were meant to be enjoyed. She used to let me drink from them when I was their age. I think she would be delighted to see your girls enjoying them, too.”
That sounded like Mrs. Ward. He remembered her letting him play with some of the old mining gear at her restaurant. “If you’re sure.”
“I am.” She turned back to the girls. “Which one do you think your daddy would like?” She cocked her head in his direction, a glint of sass sparking in her gaze. “Or would you prefer a manly mug, perhaps in front of the football game?”
“Now you’re speaking my language.”
She glanced at the pendulum clock on the wall. “The Cowboys game doesn’t start for another forty-five minutes, but I’m sure there’s another game till then.”
“Cowboys? Who gives a hoot about them? Broncos are probably in the fourth quarter by now.”
She set the cup on the table, thrust her hands onto her hips and strode toward him until they were high-heeled toe-to-booted toe. Which meant the top of her head still fell somewhere below his chin.
Her gaze narrowed as she looked up. “I give a hoot about them. The Cowboys are my team and this is my house. So if you don’t like it, you can take your cookies elsewhere.”
Mimicking her stance, he peered down at her. “You expect me to believe you actually like football?”
Her brow lifted. “Season ticket holder for the past five years.”
Why did she have to blow every preconceived notion he had about her out of the water?
Realizing he was digging his own grave, he lifted his hands in surrender and backed away. “Touché.”
After sending him a satisfied grin, she moved past him and turned on the television. “Though I have no doubt my granny would approve of my loyalties, she’d frown upon me treating a guest badly. So, in the spirit of hospitality—” she changed the channel to the Broncos game “—I will allow you to finish your game.” Returning to the dining room, she shoved the remote into his hand as she passed.
Note to self: do not dis the Dallas Cowboys in Celeste’s presence.
He settled onto the leather sofa while Celeste and the girls cleared off a spot at the table. A short time later, the girls appeared at his side.
“Here you go, Daddy.” Emma handed him a plate of cookies.
Cassidy held out a thick white mug filled with milk.
“Why, thank you, ladies.” He caught Celeste’s eye across the room. “A guy could get used to this, you know.”
“You just watch your game. We girls have work to do.”
“What work?”
She shooed him with her hand. “Mind your own business.”
Fine by him.
Savoring both the cookies and the game, he found himself relaxing. Occasionally, the giggles and chatter of two little girls drowned out the play calls and cheers from the TV. But he knew they were having fun.
A short time later, a strong, distinctive odor wafted over to the living room.
He looked into the dining room. With the cookies gone, they’d moved on to painting their fingernails.
That would never happen at his house. He rarely thought about all those girlie things his daughters liked so much. Listening to their happy voices, though, he couldn’t help thinking that this was how things were supposed to be. A dad. A mom. Each with different strengths.
The thought echoed in his mind as his beloved Broncos kicked the game-winning field goal. In some ways, Celeste was so much like Tracy. Yet in others, they were worlds apart. He flipped the channel to Celeste’s game.
“Look at our nails, Daddy.” Emma wiggled her small fingers in front of him. As did her sister. Silver and blue alternated on each nail.
“Aw, come on, Celeste...really?”
Wearing a satisfied grin, she plunked down in the chair, kicked off her heels and revealed her own dual-color nails. “Just getting into the spirit of the game.”
A few minutes in and the Cowboys were first and goal.
“Come on, Cowboys!” Celeste’s voice held a gravelly tone.
“’Mon, Cowboys!” Emma mimicked their hostess.
He cast his daughter a curious look. “I thought you didn’t like football.”
“I don’t. I just like cowboys.”
She liked horses, too, but— “Sweetheart, do you see any cowboys out there?” He nodded toward the TV.
“Uh-huh.”
“Where?”
“Right there.” She pointed just as the camera got a shot of the team’s mascot. “Isn’t he cute, Daddy?”
He couldn’t win for losing today.
By halftime, Gage was a little more into the game. After all, since the Broncos were in a completely different conference, he could enjoy the game without caring who won or lost.
As the sun dipped below the mountains, bathing the town in shadows, he stood, knowing that he should think about getting the girls home.
Celeste whisked past him and he caught a whiff of vanilla as she reached to turn on a lamp. The incandescent light filled the room with a warm glow.
Looking around, he decided that her place wasn’t nearly as stuffy as he’d thought that night he’d come to help with the bear. Instead, he found it inviting.
“What’s out there?” Emma pointed to the French doors on the far dining room wall.
“That’s my deck.” Celeste opened the door and they all went outside.
“Great view.” Hands clasped, he rested his forearms on the railing and listened to the low rumble of the river. During the late spring and early summer, when the snowmelt was at its peak, the sound of the Uncompahgre could be almost deafening.
“Look, Daddy. A table.” Emma hopped into one of the two iron chairs beside the small round table that had been tucked in one corner.
“Sure enough.” He again focused on the view as Celeste came alongside him. “You sit out here much?”
She shrugged. “Considering I spend most of my time at the restaurant, not so much. But I did have breakfast out here this morning.” She pointed upstream. “Saw a really nice buck down there, too.” She was quiet for a moment, her gaze fixed somewhere across the river. “I’ve got some pot roast and mashed potatoes, if you all would like to stay for dinner.”
As much as he hated to admit it, he was enjoying himself. Way more than he should. And the girls did need to eat. Something more than the macaroni and cheese he had planned.
“Sounds great.” He turned to find her looking at him. “That is, if you don’t mind.”
“I wouldn’t have offered if I did.”
He couldn’t help smiling. “Well, then. Okay.”
While Celeste recruited the girls to help with the preparations, Gage watched from the dining room. What would it be like to come home to a woman like Celeste? Dinner on the table. Spending time together as a family?
He shook his head. Crazy. Celeste was no different than Tracy. More nurturing, perhaps. Not to mention a great cook. But she was a businesswoman at heart. What if she decided Ouray wasn’t where she belonged? That she’d made a mistake leaving Texas and her high-powered job?
Many are the plans in a man’s heart...
His mother’s—and God’s—words played through his mind.
Lord, You know my plans to never marry again. But do You have a different purpose?
If so, the Lord was going to have to make it perfectly clear. Because Gage did not want to see his daughters hurt again.
Then what are you doing here now?
The doorbell rang then, disrupting his thoughts.
“Would you mind getting that for me?” Celeste barely looked his way, her attention focused on the girls and a pot of potatoes.
“No problem.” He jogged down the stairs, curious who might be paying Celeste a visit. Then again, she knew most everyone in town from the restaurant. Maybe someone wanted to know when Granny’s Kitchen would be open again. Or maybe it was Trent in need of some cinnamon rolls for Blakely.
He flipped the switch on the porch light and pulled open the door.
A woman close to his mother’s age stood on the other side, looking surprised. “I’m sorry.” Taking a step back, she appeared to double-check the house number. “I thought this was Celeste Thompson’s condo.”
“It is.” He leaned against the door. “May I tell her who’s calling?” Too late, he noticed the short blond hair and perfectly tailored blazer over a crisp button-down shirt. And her narrowed gaze told him she was not happy.
“Hillary Ward-Thompson. Her mother.”
A Father's Second Chance (Contemporay Christian Romance) Page 10
