Jess frowned, not comprehending what Naomi was saying.
“The father of the baby,” she added.
Jess felt ice slip through his veins and he clenched his hands at his side. “Really? Now he calls?”
“At least he called,” Naomi said.
“I think I’d like to talk to that punk.” Jess made a move toward the bedroom, but Naomi put her hand on his arm to stop him.
“Don’t do that, please?” Naomi pleaded, her hazel eyes holding his.
Jess felt the anger slip away both at the sound of her voice and at her touch. He looked down at her slender fingers resting on his skin, warm and delicate, and he felt a quieting in his chest.
At the same time he had to fight the urge to cover her hand with his own.
She withdrew her hand slowly. Reluctantly?
Stop dreaming, Schroder. You’re not the man for her.
So why is she looking at me like that?
He felt as if he was trying to keep a kite aloft in an ever-decreasing wind. It was becoming harder and harder to remind himself that she didn’t belong with him. Every moment he spent with her made his heart believe that maybe it could happen, even when his mind told him otherwise.
“So...did he call her or did she call him?”
“He called her. I left the room when I knew.”
Jess tore his attention away from Naomi and back to Brittany. “Has my mom called at all?”
Naomi shook her head. “No, she hasn’t.”
Jess blew out a ragged sigh, then turned back to Naomi. “I shouldn’t be surprised. Mom never seemed to get the idea of how motherhood worked.”
Naomi tilted her head to one side, a tiny dent of uncertainty marring her face. “Was it that bad?”
“Define bad.”
“My own mother wasn’t the best mother,” Naomi said quietly, leaning back against the counter. “She still isn’t. I got a card from her when Billy died, but she hasn’t called me since. But I recognize she’s had a hard life and I’m willing to forgive her for that. My father left her with three children to take care of. She did the best she could with what she was given. I wouldn’t say she was a great mother. I hope to make better choices than she did when the time comes, but at the same time, I hope I don’t have to deal with what she did.”
Jess looked at her, surprised at her capacity to forgive. So why couldn’t she seem to forgive him?
Did it matter? They were both in different places in their lives. Her forgiveness, or lack thereof, had no bearing on where he or she was right now.
“My mother has made her own choices, as well. Most of them pretty lousy.” He caught himself. He was starting to sound like he felt sorry for himself. “How long has she been talking to that kid?” he asked, changing the subject.
“About half an hour now.”
“She’ll probably be done soon. I can wait,” Jess said, hiding behind his stepsister’s wishes as an excuse to stay.
“Okay.”
It was thickly quiet for a moment in that awkward way that made him want to blurt out something, anything to fill the silence.
“So how hard is it to make a stained-glass window?” he said, shooting out the first thing that came to his mind. “I mean, if I wanted someone to do some like Brittany was talking about.”
“It would depend on how complicated you wanted it to be.”
Jess nodded, shifting his weight. “So what would you do? If you had to make those windows?”
He didn’t miss the light of expectation flickering in her eyes. She had thought about it just as Connor had said.
“I would suggest to someone who was making them to think about the things you like. To incorporate something from the surrounding area, colors, flow, water, trees, that kind of thing.” Her hands made shapes as if envisioning how the windows would look.
“So what would you do?” he asked, pulling the conversation back to her, pleased at the happiness in her voice and the light in her eyes.
“The four seasons of a creek. It would start with winter, snow drifts and at the far end of the first window a flash of water. Then it would flow through spring and summer and fall, each window showing the creek moving but each window displaying a different season. You have rocks with moss and trees alongside, flashes of light and sparkles of water that could be done with small jewels.” Her smile grew as her voice rose and her enthusiasm created a Naomi-shaped space in his heart.
Since she had come he hadn’t seen her this animated. This was the girl he remembered. This bright-eyed person, excited and full of life.
“Would you be willing to make them?” he asked before thought or reason could interfere.
She stopped suddenly, her hands still hovering in the air. Then she slowly lowered them, her eyes following her hands. She looked like she was deflating and his heart followed.
Then she slowly shook her head. “I’m not sure. I don’t think I can,” was all she said. She looked up at him, holding his eyes. “I don’t think I should.” Then she looked down. “I think I’ll have lunch by myself today.”
Then, in what seemed to be a steady refrain in their lives, she turned and walked away from him.
Chapter Seven
“I don’t think you should do it,” Hailey said as Naomi set her purse on the floor under the pew. All around them people filed into church, chatting and laughing; and woven through all that was worship music coming from the speakers situated in the corners of the church sanctuary.
“I know. Working on the windows would mean working even more closely with Jess.”
“You have to work with him enough. You’re smart to try to keep your distance.”
Naomi abruptly shoved the bulletin in front of the Bible in the rack in front of her. Jess represented a time of her life that had taken her over. Consumed her. Being around him too much only served to bring all that back. She had never told her sisters about her and Jess being together intimately and the longer she had kept that secret, the more difficult it became to release.
Being around Jess created a storm of emotions that rose from the past. Guilt. Shame.
“So how are the wedding plans coming?” Naomi asked, abruptly shifting the topic. Jess occupied enough time in her thoughts and lately was confusing her more and more.
“Coming along,” Hailey said. “Did you have a chance to check out that website for dresses?”
“I picked up my laptop from the apartment. I’ll check it out this afternoon.”
“Let me know which ones you like.” Hailey plucked the mutilated bulletin from the pew rack and scanned it herself. “If you don’t find anything on the site, I was hoping we could run up to Calgary and have a look at a couple of bridal stores there.”
There was a wonderful store in Calgary that stocked stained-glass supplies.
Naomi caught herself, giving her head a mental shake. Thankfully the worship team had come to the front and she joined in the singing, letting herself be immersed in worship. Since taking care of Brittany, she hadn’t been in church much.
Then, later, as the pastor led them through the service, she felt the peace that church always brought her.
She was tired of the guilt that washed over her when she let her guard down. The shame that she had hid all these years but had slowly started creeping around the edges of her mind since coming back to Hartley Creek.
She and Jess were young and careless; overcome with passion and large, grand emotions that, in the end, had burned them both up.
You were the only one.
Her impulsive words came back, echoing in her mind.
He was the only one. And because of that act, she had gotten pregnant. Then, three months later, after she got together with Billy, she had lost the baby.
“Are you okay?” Hailey asked, wh
ispering as she touched Naomi’s arm.
Naomi gave a tight nod, then turned her attention back to the pastor. He spoke of God’s forgiveness and how unconditional it was and Naomi clung to that comfort. She knew she was forgiven, yet the memory of that moment of weakness still lingered.
That’s because of what happened. Because of the pregnancy.
Naomi pushed the accusing voice aside. Then the minister invited everyone to pray, and as Naomi closed her eyes, she opened her soul to God.
Help me, Lord, to put the past behind me, she prayed. Help me to know what I should do about Jess.
She felt as if things were shifting between them, and she was trying to catch her balance in this new place. Trying to keep her hand on her own identity.
Thankfully Hailey said nothing to her as they got up to sing the last song and then turned to leave, joining the people slowly meandering down the aisle to the back of the church.
“So are you going to Nana’s for lunch before you go to the inn?” Naomi asked her sister, trying to find her normal again.
“Nana, Carter, Emma and Adam are driving across the valley to visit an old friend of Nana’s.”
Naomi nodded. Guess that was out. “What are you up to?”
“Shannon and I are going up to the inn to talk to Garret and Larissa about what we’re doing there for the wedding. Do you want to come?”
Naomi shook her head. Much as she loved being involved with her sister’s wedding plans, being around three engaged family members—Shannon, Hailey and her cousin Garret—was a bit overwhelming. Besides, it reminded her too much about her own eternal engagement to Billy.
An engagement that, in her mind, had been in name only. She had wanted to break up with him and had even chosen the day it would happen. The same day he was diagnosed with cancer. Naomi had known she couldn’t do that to him, so she stayed engaged.
“I’m fine,” she said waving off Hailey’s invitation. “I should get back to Brittany anyway.”
“If you change your mind, you know where we’ll be.”
Naomi nodded, then made her way outside. When she reached her car, she heard a voice calling her name.
She turned around to see an unfamiliar young man loping toward her. He was tall, thin, with a shock of black hair and dark eyes that seemed to dominate his narrow face. His denim jacket was torn at the sleeves and his blue jeans had seen better days.
“Are you Naomi Deacon?” he asked as he came to a stop in front of her.
She nodded. “Yes, I am. And you might be?”
The young man shoved his hands in his pockets, awkwardly shifting from foot to foot. “You, uh, don’t know me. I, uh, came to the church ’cause the guy at the gas station told me you’d probably be here and some lady in church told me who you were.”
“And your name is...?” she prompted.
“Sorry. Yeah. Sorry.” He scratched the side of his face, and shifted his feet again. “My name is Scott and Brittany tells me that you’re the one taking care of her. She told me. Last time I talked to her.”
Scott. The father of Brittany’s baby. Naomi wanted to say a hundred things to him but knew none would be helpful. So she tempered her thoughts and went with the straightforward facts.
“She misses you,” Naomi said. “She’s scared.”
Scott looked down at the ground, his foot scuffing the gravel of the parking lot. “Yeah. Well, I kind of miss her, too. I’m scared, too.”
His reluctant confession ignited a ray of hope. “So what are you doing about that?”
Scott’s only reply was a heavy sigh, then he reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a wrinkled envelope that looked like it had traveled many miles. “Could you give that to her?”
Naomi took the envelope, lifting her eyebrows in a questioning look.
“It’s some money. For the baby. And a letter for her.”
“Why don’t you come with me? You could deliver it yourself,” Naomi suggested.
Scott lifted his hands as if pushing her and her suggestion away. “No can do. Not yet. I’m not ready to be a dad yet.”
What was it with men and fatherhood? What were they so afraid of?
Naomi tucked the envelope in her purse, holding his dark gaze.
“She’s all alone, you know. Her stepmother isn’t even around.”
“Yeah, but she has her brother.”
Naomi felt her heart knock at her ribs at the idea of Jess helping Brittany with her baby. Jess had made it fairly clear that being any kind of father figure in this child’s life wasn’t happening. So how will that work?
“You’re this baby’s father.” She kept her tone as gentle and nonthreatening as possible considering that part of her wanted to shake some sense and responsibility into him.
“I know. I know. But right now...” He clenched his fists. “Just say hey to her. Tell her...tell her that...never mind.” Then he spun around and loped down the parking lot toward a large truck that had some kind of metal box on the back. Looked like a welding truck. He started it up and then, with a growl, he burned out of the parking lot.
Naomi watched him go, emotions flashing through her. Anger. Concern. Sorrow. But stitched through them all was a slender thread of pity for a young, confused boy.
She turned away, her own burden still resting heavily on her shoulders.
* * *
Jess knocked lightly on the bedroom door and when Brittany invited him in, he opened it. Brittany lay on the bed, paging through a glossy magazine.
“Lunch is ready,” he said.
“Is Naomi back from church yet?” she asked, looking up from her magazine.
“I don’t figure on her coming back for a few hours.” He had made the offer for Naomi to take the day off, knowing that she probably wanted to go to church as well as connect with her family.
He bent over and lifted Brittany up. “So do you want to eat on the deck of my house or sit in the kitchen?”
“Kitchen is fine.”
“Don’t sound so enthusiastic,” he said as he made his way down the hallway. She was getting heavier and he didn’t know how much longer he would be able to pack her around.
For a moment he wondered what would happen after the baby was born. Panic slivered through him but he caught himself.
He had to get hold of his mother. Make her own up to her responsibilities.
If she doesn’t?
He couldn’t go there. He had to trust she’d do the right thing.
“Is that all you’re eating?” Jess asked when he was done his lunch. Brittany had only nibbled on her sandwich, barely touched the soup Naomi had made, and had one of the strawberries sitting in a bowl beside her. “Naomi said you have to make sure to eat everything or you’ll have an insulin reaction again.”
“I’m not hungry,” she said in a choked voice as she pushed her plate away and he took it, wondering what to do. He set it on the counter, and when he returned, she was looking away, her lips pressed together, her hair hiding her face.
Jess knelt down beside her, resting his forearms on the arm of the easy chair. “What’s wrong, Brit?”
Her only reply was a sniff.
Oh, great. Was she crying? What was he supposed to do about that?
“Aw, honey, don’t cry. It’s okay. Things will work out.”
And then she started hiccuping, choking out deep, wrenching sobs.
Good job on the comforting, Jess thought. He was obviously not cut out for this kind of thing.
“I don’t think they will,” she cried. “I talked to Scott. He’s...he’s...”
“Scott is a louse. He should either step up to his responsibilities or leave you alone.”
“I am alone. All alone,” she cried, plunging her face into her hands. Her shoulders s
hook and Jess felt completely and utterly helpless.
Her sobs tore at his heart and he knelt there a while, wishing he could take away her pain. Finally he couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Brit, it’s okay,” he said, needing to say something. Anything. “If you need a place after the baby is born...you can...you can stay here.” He felt as if he had to drag the words out one by one and he knew his heart wasn’t in the offer, but what else could he do? His mother wasn’t stepping up and the boyfriend was AWOL. Who else would help the girl? He wasn’t any kind of father figure, but what else could he do?
The back door opened and Naomi stood in the doorway, her hazel eyes looking from him to Brittany and back again, her face holding a curious expression.
And to his dismay, the unexpected sight of her sent his own heart into overdrive.
He turned back to Brittany. “Naomi’s here, sweetie,” he said, touching her shoulder.
Brittany choked back the next sob, then lifted her face, palming her tears off her cheeks. She gave Naomi a wavery smile. “You’re back.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Jess made me lunch,” Brittany said, her voice thick with unshed tears. “And I’m feeling rotten. I couldn’t eat.”
Jess got to his feet, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “She’s upset.”
Naomi knelt down beside her and stroked her hair. “What’s wrong?”
“Scott. He called me. I asked if he was coming, but he said no.” Brittany heaved a sigh. “I have a headache and I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”
“Sure. Of course.” Naomi got up and looked over at the half finished sandwich. “You sure you can’t eat any more?”
Brittany shook her head.
“Okay. I’ll adjust your insulin.” Naomi glanced over at Jess and he came and lifted Brittany out of the chair.
He brought her back to the bed and then left.
While Naomi settled Brittany, he cleaned up the kitchen, wondering again what had gotten into him when he offered to let Brittany stay with him.
Was he crazy? He didn’t know the first thing about kids. Or babies. He was no good at that kind of thing.
Catching Her Heart Page 8
