So Violet wasn’t just anyone, huh? A new thrill surged through her, followed quickly by a dash of reality. She had no business letting this man’s words thrill her. “So you’ve started calling her Abby?”
“It just came out. What do you think?”
“Abby...” Closing her eyes, Violet tried to picture her as a toddler, a teen, even an adult. “I can see her as an Abby. I like it.”
He glanced down. “Yeah, I do, too. I wonder if Remy will mind?”
“I think at this point the decision is yours.”
“That’s pretty sobering.”
“I’m afraid the more time that goes by, the less likely it is she’ll return. It’s already been nearly two weeks.”
He tensed, straightened, withdrawing from her space back to his side of the blanket. “I still need time. As you know, I’ve made progress finding Remy.”
He’d made more progress than she ever thought he’d make. “You have. Other than emailing photos, do you have other plans?”
“I thought about hiring a PI, but I don’t want to go to that extreme if she doesn’t want to be found. And if Remy doesn’t want her baby girl enough to come back...Abby doesn’t deserve a mom who doesn’t want her.”
The comment stung. Had her son ever wondered if she’d wanted him? Or, worse, thought she hadn’t wanted him?
Violet hurt for Abby. Hurt for Jake. Even hurt for Remy. What a mess of a situation. “I agree.”
He took Abby out of her seat and settled her in his arm. “I think she could be happy with me. If I could work out reliable, full-time child care.”
She sucked in a breath. He might seriously consider adopting?
What would it be like if Jake had permanent, legal custody of the baby, and Violet spent more time with the two of them? Could they be their own little ragtag group of three?
Jake’s phone buzzed. “It’s Uncle Paul. Do you mind?”
“No, go ahead.”
He swiped the screen to answer. “Hey. Any word on Remy?”
Violet could hear his uncle’s deep voice over the line, could even make out an occasional word. While Jake filled in Paul on the domestic violence shelter lead, she tried to busy herself pulling out plates and cups for their picnic.
“I’ll send you the director’s email address,” Jake said. “Let me know if she’s more willing to talk to you.”
Removing the cover from the chicken salad, Violet gave Jake a smile. He nodded and gave her a thumbs-up.
“The baby’s doing well,” he said, apparently in answer to a question from his uncle.
The conversation continued, back and forth, Jake telling of his quest to find a babysitter so he could work followed by his uncle’s undecipherable words.
“Abby has really taken up with Violet, and I’ve leaned on her heavily for support.”
Silence. Dead silence on the other end of the phone.
Jake’s smile tensed, and he glanced away. “She’s been a huge help. In fact, we’re at her house, about to eat dinner.”
More silence.
“I need to get more ice,” she whispered with a smile firmly in place, trying to act as if she didn’t know of the awful, disapproving void on the line.
Inside the house, she pressed her burning cheek against the cool refrigerator.
She hated when anyone thought badly of her, even if only someone with whom she’d made a business transaction.
Worse, though, was the fact Paul was Jake’s family. And for some reason it mattered to her what his family thought.
The back door opened. Violet jerked into motion. Couldn’t let him find her upset.
“Need any help?” Jake asked.
She stuck her head inside the cabinet under the counter. “Just looking for the ice bucket. I think all the ice in the tea melted.”
“I’m sorry to be rude, answering the phone like that.”
“No problem.” Her words echoed in the space around the pots and pans. She pressed cool hands to her cheeks, stalling to gain composure.
“Uncle Paul hasn’t found any new information, either. He’s going to contact the shelter himself.”
“That’s a good idea.” She grabbed the ice bucket. Without a glance in Jake’s direction, she stood and headed to the freezer, where she proceeded to fill the bucket.
“My uncle was a little surprised we’re getting along so well.”
Her hand stilled. Surprise was probably putting it nicely. She finally faced Jake, who stood stiff, uncomfortable, with a sleeping Abigail in his arms.
Might as well bring the awkwardness out in the open. “So Paul thinks you’re consorting with the enemy, huh?”
A flash of guilt made him look away. “He didn’t realize you’d taken care of Abby outside of the office.”
She busied herself putting the lid on the ice, wiping the counter with a dish towel, refolding the cloth. “I guess socializing with your child’s doctor isn’t the norm.”
He laid his hand on her arm, his warm, calloused fingers sending a surge of longing straight to her heart.
“I hope my aunt and uncle will come visit. I’d like for them to get to know you the way I have.”
She sure hadn’t heard him defending her or asking them to come for that visit. Her heart ached, making it difficult to face him. But she’d never been a coward.
Well...not in several years anyway.
She turned and lifted the corners of her mouth. “I’d like to get to know them.”
He leaned against the counter, Abby in one arm sucking a pacifier. “I’m sorry I gave you a hard time when you moved here.”
His earnest expression tugged at her, pulling her his direction. Or was it actually his warm hand that was pulling her?
“I understand,” she said. “I hope you see that I’m not the person you thought I was.”
“Yeah, I’m seeing that more each day. I’d like to try to make amends.”
When Violet realized he was staring at her lips, her heart lurched. Could he truly be thinking...?
Slowly, he bent toward her...
His phone buzzed. He jerked upright.
She wanted to groan in frustration but, instead, huffed out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Your uncle?”
“I’m not answering it again.”
“What if it’s important?” she stammered as he scooted closer. Close enough that she knew, this time, he’d actually reeled her toward him while inching his way along the counter toward her.
His phone buzzed again, rattling the cabinet where his hip rested.
He sighed and yanked the phone out of his pocket to look at the screen. “It’s Simone.”
The name ripped Violet out of her hazy, near-kiss fantasy world. “Take it if you need to.”
“No, I’ll call her back later.”
Maybe he could brush off the phone call, but Violet couldn’t. Grasping the ice bucket tightly to her chest, she pulled out of his grasp and headed out the back door. “Time to eat.”
Now that she’d started praying again, she wondered if maybe God was trying to tell her something through the near miss.
She didn’t need to be getting cozy with Jake West—a man who had women falling all over him and whose family couldn’t stand Violet.
A man who knew nothing about her or her past.
Getting close to him was a sure recipe for failure and heartache. Neither of which she could afford. No, she would be much happier if she’d remain focused on her career. The one constant in her life. The one place she had at least some semblance of control.
* * *
“Jake, this is Camilla Crenshaw, Violet’s mother.”
Jake stopped dead in his tracks on the way to put Abby to bed for the night. “What
can I do for you?”
“I’ve been trying to get in touch with my daughter, and, well...this is a tad embarrassing to admit. She hasn’t returned my calls. So I thought I would try to get in contact with her through friends.” The woman’s voice was deep, cultured. He pictured her standing in a formal living room—eight-inch crown molding, gilded mirrors, custom built-ins—wearing designer clothes and a strand of pearls big enough to choke a horse.
“How did you get my name?”
“Since Appleton is such a small town, I decided to begin by calling local businesses. I had success on my first attempt—the local clothing boutique. The owner, Chloe O’Malley, gave me your name as a close friend of Violet’s.”
Wow. “Mrs. Crenshaw, I was actually at Violet’s office when you called the other day. Couldn’t help but hear the receptionist taking the message.”
“I’ve called several times. I’d hoped once Violet started working in that new little town she would have a change of heart.”
“I’m not sure where I come in.”
“Well, my husband and I would appreciate it if you could speak with Violet, encourage her to return our calls.”
“Ma’am, I’d love to see your family reunited. I’ve encouraged Violet to initiate contact. But since you called me, I’d like to know your intentions.”
She hesitated. Was she taken aback by his bluntness?
“I understand your worry.” She sighed. “You’re being a good friend to our daughter. Let me assure you, we only want the chance to apologize to Violet for not considering her feelings in the past. We’ve sometimes regretted...that decision.”
Did she assume he knew what started the family problems? Jake wished he did so he’d understand Violet better. According to Violet, it had to do with not seeing eye to eye. “Mrs. Crenshaw, Violet hasn’t told me what happened with your family. But I’ll share your message with her. And I’ll make sure she knows why you’ve been trying to reach her.”
“Thank you, Jake. I appreciate this more than you’ll ever know. We owe you a favor.”
“No favor owed. I’m not doing this for y’all. I’m doing it for Violet.”
A laugh similar to Violet’s rang across the line. “I like you, Jake West. I’m glad you care enough for Violet to be so direct. My husband and I most certainly do owe you a debt of gratitude.”
“I happen to think family is...well, it’s everything. I hope Violet will be in touch.”
As he hung up, Jake questioned his motive for getting involved. Was he doing this purely because he wanted to see Violet reunited with her family? Or was it deeper than that, maybe the fact he was growing to care for her and wanted her to trust him with her problems?
Who was he kidding? Of course he cared for her. He’d nearly kissed her earlier. Had nearly kissed a woman he barely knew. Yet, after all they’d been through together with Abigail, he felt close to her, as if he knew her at least in part.
But the secrecy with her family issues... She wouldn’t open up at all about that. And it apparently had something to do with decisions her parents made that she didn’t agree with.
Could it be career related? Had they discouraged her from going to medical school, maybe hadn’t had enough faith in her? That could sure cause hurt feelings.
A text message buzzed his phone. From Simone, offering to babysit. He’d forgotten to call her back.
Funny how quickly he’d gotten over their breakup. She’d seemed to recover just as easily and had dated several men in the past year. There shouldn’t be any awkwardness if he decided to take her up on her offer.
Why not do it? Though Violet had teased him about Simone, he figured it couldn’t hurt to hire her for one week while she was off work.
He texted her back, asking if she could come the next morning. Maybe he’d be at ease leaving Abby with someone more mature.
Then again, maybe not. Because like it or not, whenever he thought of Abby, he immediately put Violet in the picture, as well.
Of course, once she found out her parents had contacted him and he’d agreed to talk to her, she might not forgive him for meddling.
He needed to figure out how to tell her. There was a delicate balance between helping and overstepping.
But her parents wanted to apologize. Weren’t apologies always a good thing?
Chapter Eight
Abby’s wails filtered through Violet’s open screen door, tugging her attention from her computer, making it impossible to concentrate.
She really shouldn’t get involved. She had a morning free of appointments, a perfect morning to work at home putting together the training materials for the parenting class she’d be teaching in the fall. She had three glorious hours to catch up on banking and paying bills for the office.
And had absolutely no business stepping into Jake’s life if he wanted Simone as a babysitter. But the pitiful child had been crying nonstop for twenty minutes as Simone walked around the backyard. Had the woman even checked Abby’s diaper?
Snapping her laptop shut, she popped up out of the kitchen chair, pushed open the back door and marched across the yard toward Jake’s house.
She can’t just let my baby cry like that.
Violet halted midstep. My baby? My baby?
Icy fear settled in her chest as she headed into new territory. Dangerous territory. She’d get in trouble thinking of Abby that way. Remy could return, yanking Abby away as Violet’s son had been taken away. Leaving her bereft and broken.
Violet needed to be more careful.
Yet she couldn’t let the poor little thing cry until she was hoarse.
Violet approached Jake’s patio, where Simone paced trying to console Abby. “Can I help?”
Though she was tense and her expression bordered on panic, Simone was beautiful, exotic with her expertly made-up black eyes and dark wavy hair that cascaded down her back. “Gladly.”
When Violet took Abby in her arms, it was as if the baby had taken some sort of chill pill. Her cries hiccuped to a stop. The girl’s eyes opened and she studied Violet, as if she recognized her and welcomed being held by her. Almost as if she’d been returned to her own mother.
Love for Abby nearly smothered Violet, making it hard to draw in a full breath. Surely one heart couldn’t contain so much love. She brushed Abby’s tears away and talked gently to the girl. “You’re okay, sweet thing.”
“Unbelievable,” Simone said. “I think she hates me.”
“No, she has bouts of crying sometimes.”
Simone wilted into a lounge chair as if exhausted. “How am I ever going to get Jake back if his baby hates me?”
Violet froze. Took a shallow breath.
What had she expected, though? From observing the familiarity between them, she’d suspected Jake and Simone had dated in the past. It made sense that they could get back together, especially now that he needed Simone’s help.
But he said he liked having me care for Abby. He acted like he was going to kiss me.
What was wrong with her? First she’d thought of Abby as my baby. Now she’d dared think of Jake as her man?
“Here,” Violet said. “Take Abby, and I’ll show you how she likes to be held.”
She wrapped the light summer blanket more tightly around the baby, then set her in the crook of Simone’s arm.
“She likes to be swaddled when she’s crying. And she likes to be able to look into your face, not be pressed to your chest unless she’s snugly in her cloth carrier.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll see how that works.” She bounced a little and smiled at Abby.
The girl’s brow scrunched a bit, but she didn’t cry.
“That seems to have worked,” Simone said, her face lighting with relief. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad to help.”
&nbs
p; “You know, I ruined my chances with Jake before, talking about marriage even though we’d both declared from the beginning that we didn’t want anything serious. Kind of freaked him out. But I think Abigail here has changed that. I think he could be ready to settle down.”
Jake had settled into a routine with the baby and had grown attached. But that didn’t mean he was ready to settle into a relationship with a woman. For all Violet knew, he still didn’t want anything serious.
Violet certainly didn’t need to fall for someone who might avoid commitment. She’d already gone that route with a disastrous end.
The sound of a vehicle pulling up somewhere out front sent her heart racing. It sounded like a large engine, probably Jake’s truck. With all the crazy, possessive feelings she’d had that morning, she didn’t need to be around him. Time to escape.
“Gotta get back to work.” It appeared Abby wasn’t going to cry again, so she darted toward home.
“Thanks again,” Simone called, probably confused as to why Violet took off so quickly.
She forced herself to politely pause and turn to reply. “You’re welcome.”
“You know, if Jake gives me another chance at loving him, I’ll have you to thank.”
The thought of helping Jake reunite with Simone made her cringe, even as she gave a friendly wave goodbye.
Grateful to get away before Jake discovered her, Violet dropped into her chair at the kitchen table. As she opened her computer, she heard Jake greet Simone. Unable to focus on her work, Violet held her head in her hands.
She wanted Jake...but shouldn’t. She loved Abby...but shouldn’t. She wanted to build a family together... “But I shouldn’t, I really shouldn’t.”
She’d gotten herself into a real mess.
“Violet?” Jake stood outside her screen door ready to knock.
Her face heated. Had he heard her talking to herself? “Come on in.”
His smile wreaked havoc on her insides, making them flutter and dance and compress her lungs so she could hardly breathe.
He stood there in jeans and a button-up work shirt, wiping his dusty boots on her doormat. Then he stepped inside. “Hey.”
Love Inspired May 2015 #2 Page 12
