Brought Together by Baby

by Carolyne Aarsen

  “A couple of things,” she said softly. She looked over at Gracie who was kicking her feet, happily munching on a cookie. “I felt responsible for Gracie, and being at my parents’ place…” She shrugged. “Whenever I stayed at Mom and Dad’s I was expected to go to church. Hard to get rid of the feeling that I should. So I went. And to my surprise, I enjoyed it. I had a feeling that even though I rejected God, He hadn’t rejected me. That was a very interesting revelation for me. Now I feel like I have to do something with it and I’m not sure what.”

  Eli watched the play of emotions over her face as she spoke. And found, as she talked about what the church service had done for her, as her face reflected a momentary peace, that he felt a surprising flicker of envy. Once he, too, had gone to church. To his parents’ sorrow, he hadn’t bothered once he’d moved out of the house.

  His passion for his work had insidiously eaten away at his time away from the hospital. He had started staying at the clinic late on Friday evenings to catch up on work. Then it became Saturday mornings. Which meant his only day off was Sunday and even then he was often on call. So Sunday became synonymous with sleeping in and trying to find a way to maintain some kind of social life. Church was slowly eased out of his life.

  As his passion for medicine increased, his faith had become lukewarm. Neither hot nor cold.

  But as he listened to Rachel’s hesitant seeking, he felt a faint stirring in his own heart. A calling to a faith he had felt in his past.

  He took a sip of coffee as he rested his elbows on the table. He asked her a few more questions and their conversation easily moved from work to family. He discovered that, like him, she had been raised in a Christian home. Like him, her job had slowly taken her away from her upbringing. Like him, she had no outside hobbies.

  She asked him about his parents. So he told her about the Cavanaughs. And his natural parents.

  “Do you still remember them?” Rachel asked, leaning over to wipe Gracie’s hands with a moist towelette.

  “I was six when they were killed in a car accident.” Eli glanced down at the scar that ran across the back of his hand. “I was an only child and the only one that survived.”

  “So you’ve known sadness, too.”

  Her face held a gentle recognition of his pain that called to him. But he shrugged her concern aside. “It was a long time ago.”

  “Yes. But they were your natural parents.” She glanced at Gracie. “I know my mom and dad love this little girl dearly, but even at her age, she still comes to them as another person who already has some history. I imagine if you were six years old, you would have some very strong memories of your parents.”

  “Memories the Cavanaughs didn’t really want me to bring up much,” Eli said. He added a grin just so Rachel didn’t think he was an ungrateful, maladjusted whiner.

  “That’s interesting. I wonder if it was a bit of jealousy. I know Mom and Dad had really mixed feelings about Gracie’s mother coming to visit. In spite of how generous they are, when it came to Gracie they wanted to have her all to themselves.” Rachel pulled Gracie out of the buggy, brushed the crumbs off her dress and carefully, helped her regain her balance. “They were actually a bit relieved when she decided to stay out of Gracie’s life. And to tell you the truth, so was I.” She watched Gracie as she worked her way around the picnic table, catching the wooden seat whenever she lost her balance in the grass.

  Eli had never thought of that aspect before. “But my parents were dead. They were just memories.”

  “All the harder to fight. Memories stay in the background, changing according to your wishes. Getting better and kinder all the time.” She shrugged. “But then, I don’t know much about that. I’m blessed enough to still have my natural parents, goofs and all. I didn’t have memories of other parents to fall back on when I was tired of the ones I had.”

  Her comment hit at some of the struggles he’d had as a young man. How often he’d run upstairs, frustrated with Peggy and Tyrone Cavanaugh, wishing he still had his own parents, the parents the Cavanaughs never wanted to talk about. The ones that would be “better.” That would understand him more. Eli studied her. “You say you don’t know much, but you’ve given me something else to think about. Something that makes sense.”

  Her smile drew his out. And as their gazes held, delving into each other, he felt as if he was standing on the verge of something unknown that would change his well-ordered life.

  All he had to do was take that first step into the void. Away from the direction he had mapped out for himself as a young man angry with a confusing and messed-up world.

  He didn’t know if he dared. But as he held Rachel’s gaze, he wasn’t sure he could walk away, either. He wanted to see her again. Spend more time with her. He took a breath.

  A beeping at his side made him jump. He glanced down at his pager and turned it off, resentment singing through him. And right on the heels of that resentment came a sense of relief at the rescue.

  “Sorry. That’s the hospital. I’m on call.”

  “Weren’t you last week, as well?”

  “I volunteered to cover for another doctor this weekend.” He covered for some of the married doctors when they had things going on. He never minded working weekends. Now, he was thankful for the intrusion. He had set the course of his life quite clearly as a teenager. A relationship was not in the plans for a couple of years yet.

  And yet…

  “I understand,” she said, but her smile had lost some of its luster.

  Gracie had come back and was reaching out for Rachel to pick her up. Eli pushed himself up from the table as Rachel caught the child in her arms. “I hope it’s not too serious.”

  “I guess I’ll see.” He hesitated just a moment, pulled by the responsibility of his job and at the same time by the time he had just spent with Rachel. “Do you want me to stop by this week and see how it’s going?”

  They both knew he didn’t need to. Things seemed to be going quite well. But Gracie was a convenient excuse. For now.

  “That would be nice,” she said.

  “I’ll keep in touch.” He turned and left. As he walked away, he couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder, but Rachel was cleaning up and didn’t look up.

  The disappointment he felt surprised him.

  “C’mon, honey. Hold still. I need to dry you off.” Rachel lifted Gracie out of the bathtub and wrapped the squirming, wet girl in the towel. She tried not to rush things, but as had been the problem for the past week and a half, she was in a hurry and running behind.

  She had finally gotten hold of LaReese on Tuesday and arranged a meeting for tonight. LaReese’s reluctance to see her only made her more determined to keep this meeting. She had to take Gracie but knew that the child wasn’t going to be sleeping much before nine tonight anyhow. Rachel had gotten caught up in one of her files and had let Gracie sleep too long this afternoon.

  She knew part of her frustration lay with Eli. That moment in the park had been a turning point for her. When Eli had asked if she wanted him to stop by, she had found she couldn’t say no.

  She wanted him to come and yet was relieved he hadn’t. The memories she’d shared with him of Keith gave her such mixed feelings. She hadn’t spoken of Keith for a long time. Suddenly she felt afraid and vulnerable again. And yet, she had told Eli.

  Gracie wriggled again and Rachel tried to catch her. The child whipped her head back and smacked Rachel directly on the lip. A flash of electric stars shot behind her eyes.

  “You little stinker,” she muttered, barely holding on to the toddler. Her eyes watered and her lip throbbed and, of course, right then the doorbell rang.

  Rachel struggled to her feet, still holding Gracie, who seemed to realize what she had done and now lay quiescent in Rachel’s arms, still wrapped in the towel. Rachel made her way down the long hallway, past her own room, then down the long flight of stairs to the front door. Though she was in a rush, she took her time on the carpeted steps. Th
e last thing she needed was a broken leg like her mother.

  The bell chimed again, echoing through the foyer as Rachel reached the landing. She wondered who would stop by at seven o’clock in the evening. It wasn’t Pilar and Anne. They had come last night and lured Rachel away from her work, insisting that she take a break. She couldn’t really afford it, but she also knew she needed the social interaction. Her life the past two weeks had consisted of juggling her care for Gracie and work. She had taken Sunday off, but that was three days ago and she was still paying for it. Working away from the office was hard. And it gave her less control.

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” Rachel muttered, still on the stairs.

  When she reached the bottom the marble floor was cool under her bare feet and she wrapped the towel tighter around Gracie. All she could see behind the frosted glass of the door was an indistinct figure backlit by the evening sun.

  Her heart stuttered and she felt her breath hitch in her throat.

  Since Sunday she had thought he might stop by again. But three days had gone by and she had decided that she’d read far more into her reactions to him than was there.

  And now, here he was.

  Chapter Ten

  She clutched Gracie and slowly opened the door.

  Eli stood on the step, tapping his motorcycle helmet against his leg, just as he had the football on Sunday afternoon. And just as he did then, tonight he wore blue jeans, a leather motorcycle jacket and an enigmatic smile. He looked up as the door opened, and his crooked smile drew out an answering one from her.

  “Hey there,” he said, his husky voice creating a faint ripple somewhere in the region of her stomach.

  She tried to brush the feeling aside. Tried to act casual as she invited him in. This was sheer silliness. He was Gracie’s doctor. He was just interested in Gracie’s well-being. That was why he had stopped by.

  But as she looked up into Eli’s warm green eyes, common sense was brushed aside. She realized she hadn’t felt lonely until now.

  “Just finished the bath?” he said, tugging lightly on Gracie’s damp curl.

  “Eli here,” Gracie crowed, wriggling with pleasure.

  “Just getting ready to go out,” she replied, shifting Gracie’s weight to her hip.

  Eli frowned. “This time of night?”

  “Gracie had a long nap this afternoon,” Rachel protested, feeling as if she suddenly had to justify her actions. “She’s probably not going to sleep until at least nine o’clock. I need to go see a lady and I thought I could easily take Gracie along.”

  Eli raised one hand as if in surrender. “It’s okay, Rachel. I’m not making a commentary on your mothering skills.” He tilted her a crooked grin, a faint dimple winking at her from one corner of his mouth. “I was just hoping I could…” He paused, then shrugged, growing serious. “But you got things to do.”

  “I was just going to LaReese Binet’s. A quick visit.” Rachel hitched Gracie up, licking her sore lip. “You could come…if you want?”

  Listen to us, Rachel thought. Like a couple of teenagers trying to figure out if we like each other. “I have a few ideas I want to run past LaReese. You could help.”

  “Me?” Eli pointed to himself and laughed.

  “Why not? I hear that you have a great bedside manner…”

  “With little kids…”

  “And with this woman I need all the charm I can get.”

  “Charm?”

  “Yeah.”

  He laughed, looked away as if considering, then back at her again. “Okay, Rachel. I’ll come and see what I can do for you.”

  An unexpected feeling of pleasure spiraled up at his consent. “Okay. I’ve just got to get this girl dressed, put on some makeup, and then we can go.” She smiled, and then winced as pain from her lip blossomed.

  Eli frowned at her, and then bent closer. He lightly touched her now-swelling lip. His finger was cool and it sent a shiver down her spine.

  “What happened?”

  “Gracie has a very hard head.” She tried to sound more casual then she felt, hoping he wouldn’t notice the faint flush his gesture had created.

  “Did you put a cold compress on it to take the swelling down?”

  “It happened just before you came.” She shrugged his concern away. “It will be okay. It’s not like I’m going to be kissing anyone.”

  And didn’t that sound provocative, she thought, the flush on her cheeks growing. “You can wait for us in the living room.” She gestured to the large room off the foyer. “I’ll just get Gracie dressed and then I’ll be ready.”

  She turned away and almost ran back up the stairs, her bare feet making barely a sound in the pile carpeting.

  She was being silly, she thought as she finished drying Gracie, who was babbling about Eli and Rachel and going out, her pleasure an enthusiastic counterpoint to the attraction that Rachel was hard pressed to deny.

  She quickly dressed Gracie in a white shirt and pink coveralls, pulled her curls up in a ponytail and tied it with a perky bow. Gracie was fun to dress up, and certainly her mother had enough clothes for her.

  “Okay, Gracie. I have to get ready now,” she said, plunking the child on the counter to watch. “Don’t fall off or I’ll be in trouble with your pediatrician.” She tucked her into the corner by the wall and gave her some bathtub toys to play with.

  Her fingers were trembling slightly as she applied her makeup. “This is not a date,” she muttered, swiping mascara over her already dark lashes. She wrinkled her nose at her reflection, and then smoothed the lipstick that Pilar had chosen for her over her lips.

  Her hair, she couldn’t do much about. She didn’t have time to pin it up and decided to simply let it loose. Not her usual style by any means, but these days “usual” simply meant neat and clean. Neat and professional would have to wait until her mother was mobile again and Rachel had her life back.

  She ran a brush through her hair, then pressed a hand to her stomach to still the silly flip-flopping that had started at the thought of spending the evening with Eli.

  She took a long, slow breath and looked at herself in the mirror. “So he’s good looking. And good with Gracie. And fun. And has a cute smile.” She tried to diffuse the effect of his attributes by acknowledging them. “You can’t afford to go there. It is too dangerous to get attached,” she reminded herself. “Dangerous and foolhardy.”

  But as she carried Gracie down the stairs, the whimsical feelings that Eli had generated in her lately overcame her warnings.

  She found Eli in front of a painting that hung above the marble fireplace. He turned as she came into the room.

  “Is this you with your parents?” he asked, gesturing at the large portrait.

  Rachel nodded, slightly embarrassed. The painting was ages old. She’d been five, sitting on her mother’s lap, wearing a froufrou dress. Her parents hadn’t hit their unconventional stage of their life, so her father wore a suit and ascot, and her mother, an evening gown and pearls.

  “I have begged them time and time again to take it down or at least replace it with something less pretentious.” She set Gracie on the floor. The toddler was heavy.

  “Your parents are hardly pretentious,” Eli said.

  “No. Or conventional. Something I believe they learned hobnobbing with the rich and famous of New England. That painting was commissioned when we lived up there on the advice of my father’s parents. My parents keep it up as a reminder.”

  “Of what?”

  “Something they learned when they became Christians. That their money is a responsibility, not a right.” Rachel glanced around the room at the furniture that her parents had collected over the years. Some of it was antique, handed down to Charles by his family. Other pieces were whimsical, gathered because they were comfortable and fun.

  “And all these other people?” Eli gestured toward the many portraits that graced the walls.

  “My father’s family. The Nobles have a long and illustrio
us history,” Rachel said, glancing at the portraits that portrayed her relatives through time.

  “American nobility,” Eli said quietly.

  Rachel frowned at him. “Where did you hear that?”

  “An article I read a while ago. When I first met your parents, I stumbled on it.”

  Rachel frowned at that. She didn’t like to think that people were talking about them like that. “Well, as far as I’m concerned, nobility is earned, not bought.”

  “Eli carry me.” Gracie toddled over to Eli’s side and banged her hands on his legs. He grinned down at her and picked her up.

  “I hate to be pushy, but I should get going,” Rachel said.

  “You can either follow me on your motorcycle, or come with me in my car.”

  “I’ll come in the car, if it’s okay with you.”

  It was more than okay. Since the afternoon in the park, he had occupied far too many of her thoughts. She had given him a part of herself that she hadn’t shown many people. She still wasn’t sure what had prompted the confession about Keith. Church maybe. Feeling vulnerable and maybe even a bit lonely. But Eli kept to ordinary topics of conversation as they drove. He quizzed her on what she hoped to accomplish with the meeting.

  “She’s been really skittish lately,” Rachel explained.

  “Hesitant to commit her money. And it is a substantial amount. I’m afraid that she’s been—” Rachel stopped, unwilling to say anything more to this man to whom she had already told so much.

  “She’s been what?”

  “I’m sorry. I can’t say.”

  “But it bothers you.”

  Rachel worried her lip, then winced as she bit the spot Gracie had hit. “It’s complicated and I really don’t know what to think.” She glanced at Eli, who lounged back in his seat, his eyes on her as she drove. For a moment she longed to tell someone about her troubles at the Foundation. She should have been able to confide in Reuben, but he was the one she had concerns about.

  Last night she had finally contacted him. When she asked him why he hadn’t returned her calls, he said he had forgotten his cell phone.