The Rain Sparrow

by Debbie Macomber

  “Ellen?” Derek prompted.

  “I’m fine.”

  “I’ve never seen Reed act like that. He didn’t mean anything.”

  “I know,” she whispered, brushing the dirt from her knees. Derek drifted off, leaving her to return the ladder to the garage single-handed.

  Reed found her an hour later folding laundry in her bedroom. He knocked on the open door.

  “Yes?” She looked up expectantly.

  “I owe you an apology.”

  She continued folding towels at the foot of her bed. “Oh?”

  “I didn’t mean to come at you like Attila the Hun.”

  Hugging a University of Washington T-shirt to her stomach, she lowered her gaze to the bedspread and nodded. “Apology accepted and I’ll offer one of my own. I didn’t mean to come back at you like a spoiled brat.”

  “Accepted.” They smiled at each other and she caught her breath as those incredible green eyes gazed into hers. It was a repeat of the scene in the kitchen the night before. For a long, silent moment they did nothing but stare, and she realized that a welter of conflicting emotions must have registered on her face. A similar turmoil raged on his.

  “If it’ll make you feel any better, I won’t go up on the roof again,” she said at last.

  “I’d appreciate it.” His lips barely moved. The words were more of a sigh than a sentence.

  She managed a slight nod in response.

  At the sound of footsteps, they guiltily looked away.

  “Say, Ellen.” Pat stopped in the doorway, a basketball under his left arm. “Got time to shoot a few baskets with me?”

  “Sure,” she whispered, stepping around Reed. At that moment, she would’ve agreed to just about anything to escape his company. There was something happening between them and she felt frightened and confused and excited, all at the same time.

  The basketball hoop was positioned above the garage door at the end of the long driveway. Pat was attending the University of Washington with the express hope of making the Husky basketball team. His whole life revolved around the game. He was rarely seen without a ball tucked under his arm and sometimes Ellen wondered if he showered with it. She was well aware that the invitation to practice a few free throws with him was not meant to be taken literally. The only slam dunk Ellen had ever accomplished was with a doughnut in her hot chocolate. Her main job was to stand on the sidelines and be awed by Pat’s talent.

  They hadn’t been in the driveway fifteen minutes when the back door opened and Derek strolled out. “Say, Ellen, have you got a minute?” he asked, frowning.

  “What’s the problem?”

  “It’s Michelle.”

  Sitting on the concrete porch step, Derek looked at Ellen with those wide pleading eyes of his.

  Ellen sat beside him and wrapped her arms around her bent knees. “What’s wrong with Michelle?”

  “Nothing. She’s beautiful and I think she might even fall in love with me, given the chance.” He paused to sigh expressively. “I asked her out to dinner tonight.”

  “She agreed. Right?” If Michelle was anywhere near as taken with Derek as he was with her, she wasn’t likely to refuse.

  The boyishly thin shoulders heaved in a gesture of despair. “She can’t.”

  “Why not?” Ellen watched as Pat bounced the basketball across the driveway, pivoted, jumped high in the air and sent the ball through the net.

  “Michelle promised her older sister that she’d baby-sit tonight.”

  “That’s too bad.” Ellen gave him a sympathetic look.

  “The thing is, she’d probably go out with me if there was someone who could watch her niece and nephew for her.”

  “Uh-huh.” Pat made another skillful play and Ellen applauded vigorously. He rewarded her with a triumphant smile.

  “Then you will?”

  Ellen switched her attention from Pat’s antics at the basketball hoop back to Derek. “Will I what?”

  “Babysit Michelle’s niece and nephew?”

  “What?” she exploded. “Not me. I’ve got to do research for a term paper.”

  “Ellen, please, please, please.”

  “No. No. No.” She sliced the air forcefully with her hand and got to her feet.

  Derek rose with her. “I sense some resistance to this idea.”

  “The boy’s a genius,” she mumbled under her breath as she hurried into the kitchen. “I’ve got to write my term paper. You know that.”

  Derek followed her inside. “Ellen, please? I promise I’ll never ask anything of you again.”

  “I’ve heard that before.” She tried to ignore him as he trailed her to the refrigerator and watched her take out sandwich makings for lunch.

  “It’s a matter of the utmost importance,” Derek pleaded anew.

  “What is?” Reed spoke from behind the paper he was reading at the kitchen table.

  “My date with Michelle. Listen, Ellen, I bet Reed would help you. You’re not doing anything tonight, are you?”

  Reed lowered the newspaper. “Help Ellen with what?”

  “Babysitting.”

  Reed glanced from the intent expression on his younger brother’s face to the stubborn look on Ellen’s. “You two leave me out of this.”

  “Ellen. Dear, sweet Ellen, you’ve got to understand that it could be weeks—weeks,” he repeated dramatically, “before Michelle will be able to go out with me again.”

  Ellen put down an armload of cheese, ham and assorted jars of mustard and pickles. “No! Can I make it any plainer than that? I’m sorry, Derek, honest. But I can’t.”

  “Reed,” Derek pleaded with his brother. “Say something that’ll convince her.”

  “Like I said, I’m out of this one.”

  He raised the paper again, but Ellen could sense a smile hidden behind it. Still, she doubted that Reed would be foolish enough to involve himself in this situation.

  “Ellen, puleease.”

  “No.” Ellen realized that if she wanted any peace, she’d have to forget about lunch and make an immediate escape. She whirled around and headed out of the kitchen, the door swinging in her wake.

  “I think she’s weakening,” she heard Derek say as he followed her.

  She was on her way up the stairs when she caught sight of Derek in the dining room, coming toward her on his knees, hands folded in supplication. “Won’t you please reconsider?”

  Ellen groaned. “What do I need to say to convince you? I’ve got to get to the library. That paper is due Monday morning.”

  “I’ll write it for you.”

  “No, thanks.”

  At just that moment Reed came through the door. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to find a reliable sitter. There are a few families with teenagers in the neighbourhood, as I recall.”

  “I...don’t know,” Derek hedged.

  “If we can’t find anyone, then Danielle and I’ll manage. It’ll be good practice for us. Besides, just how much trouble can two kids be?”

  When she heard that, Ellen had to swallow a burst of laughter. Reed obviously hadn’t spent much time around children, she thought with a mischievous grin.

  “How old did you say these kids are?” she couldn’t resist asking.

  “Nine and four.” Derek’s dark eyes brightened as he leaped to his feet and gave his brother a grateful smile. “So I can tell Michelle everything’s taken care of?”

  “I suppose.” Reed turned to Ellen. “I was young once myself,” he said pointedly, reminding her of the comment she’d made the night before.

  “I really appreciate this, Reed,” Derek was saying. “I’ll be your slave for life. I’d even lend you money if I had some. By the way, can I borrow your car tonight?”

  “Don’t
press your luck.”

  “Right.” Derek chuckled, bounding up the stairs. He paused for a moment. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Michelle’s bringing the kids over here, okay?”

  He didn’t wait for a response.

  * * *

  THE DOORBELL CHIMED close to six o’clock, just as Ellen was gathering up her books and preparing to leave for the library.

  “That’ll be Michelle,” Derek called excitedly. “Can you get it, Ellen?”

  “No problem.”

  Coloring books and crayons were arranged on the coffee table, along with some building blocks Reed must have purchased that afternoon. From bits and pieces of information she’d picked up, she concluded that Reed had discovered it wasn’t quite as easy to find a baby-sitter as he’d assumed. And with no other recourse, he and Danielle were apparently taking over the task. Ellen wished him luck, but she really did need to concentrate on this stupid term paper. Reed hadn’t suggested that Ellen wait around to meet Danielle. But she had to admit she’d been wondering about the woman from the time Derek had first mentioned her.

  “Hello, Ellen.” Blonde Michelle greeted Ellen with a warm, eager smile. They’d met briefly the other night, when she’d come over to watch the movie. “This sure is great of Derek’s brother and his girlfriend, isn’t it?”

  “It sure is.”

  The four-year-old boy was clinging to Michelle’s trouser leg so that her gait was stiff-kneed as she limped into the house with the child attached.

  “Jimmy, this is Ellen. You’ll be staying in her house tonight while Auntie Michelle goes out to dinner with Derek.”

  “I want my mommy.”

  “He won’t be a problem,” Michelle told Ellen confidently.

  “I thought there were two children.”

  “Yeah, the baby’s in the car. I’ll be right back.”

  “Baby?” Ellen swallowed down a laugh. “What baby?”

  “Jenny’s nine months.”

  “Nine months?” A small uncontrollable giggle slid from her throat. This would be marvelous. Reed with a nine-month-old was almost too good to miss.

  “Jimmy, you stay here.” Somehow Michelle was able to pry the four-year-old’s fingers from her leg and pass the struggling child to Ellen.

  Kicking and thrashing, Jimmy broke into loud sobs as Ellen carried him into the living room. “Here’s a coloring book. Do you like to color, Jimmy?”

  But he refused to talk to Ellen or even look at her as he buried his face in the sofa cushions. “I want my mommy,” he wailed again.

  By the time Michelle had returned with a baby carrier and a fussing nine-month-old, Derek sauntered out from the kitchen. “Hey, Michelle, you’re lookin’ good.”

  Reed, who was following closely behind, came to a shocked standstill when he saw the baby. “I thought you said they were nine and four.”

  “I did,” Derek explained patiently, his eyes devouring the blonde at his side.

  “They won’t be any trouble,” Michelle cooed as Derek placed an arm around her shoulders and led her toward the open door.

  “Derek, we need to talk,” Reed insisted.

  “Haven’t got time now. Our reservations are for seven.” His hand slid from Michelle’s shoulders to her waist. “I’m taking my lady out for a night on the town.”

  “Derek,” Reed demanded.

  “Oh.” Michelle tore her gaze from Derek’s. “The diaper bag is in the entry. Jenny should be dry, but you might want to check her later. She’ll probably cry for a few minutes once she sees I’m gone, but that’ll stop almost immediately.”

  Reed’s face was grim as he cast a speculative glance at Jimmy, who was still howling for his mother. The happily gurgling Jenny stared up at the unfamiliar dark-haired man and noticed for the first time that she was at the mercy of a stranger. She immediately burst into heart-wrenching tears.

  “I want my mommy,” Jimmy wailed yet again.

  “I can see you’ve got everything under control,” Ellen said, reaching for her coat. “I’m sure Danielle will be here any minute.”

  “Ellen...”

  “Don’t expect me back soon. I’ve got hours of research ahead of me.”

  “You aren’t really going to leave, are you?” Reed gave her a horrified look.

  “I wish I could stay,” she lied breezily. “Another time.” With that, she was out the door, smiling as she bounded down the steps.

  CHAPTER THREE

  AN UNEASY FEELING struck Ellen as she stood waiting at the bus stop. But she resolutely hardened herself against the impulse to rush back to Reed and his disconsolate charges. Danielle would show up any minute and Ellen really was obliged to do the research for her yet-to-be-determined math paper. Besides, she reminded herself, Reed had volunteered to babysit and she wasn’t responsible for rescuing him. But his eyes had pleaded with her so earnestly. Ellen felt herself beginning to weaken. No! she mumbled under her breath. Reed had Danielle, and as far as Ellen was concerned, they were on their own.

  However, by the time she arrived at the undergraduate library, Ellen discovered that she couldn’t get Reed’s pleading look out of her mind. From everything she’d heard about Danielle, Ellen figured the woman probably didn’t know the first thing about babies. As for the term paper, she supposed she could put it off until Sunday. After all, she’d found excuses all day to avoid working on it. She’d done the laundry, trimmed the shrubs, cleaned the drainpipes and washed the upstairs walls in an effort to escape that paper. One more night wasn’t going to make much difference.

  Hurriedly, she signed out some books and journals that looked as though they might be helpful and headed for the bus stop. Ellen had to admit that she was curious enough to want to meet Danielle. Reed’s girlfriend had to be someone very special to put up with his frequent absences—or else a schemer, as Derek had implied. But Ellen couldn’t see Reed being duped by a woman, no matter how clever or sophisticated she might be.

  Her speculations came to an end as the bus arrived, and she quickly jumped on for the short ride home.

  Reed was kneeling on the carpet changing the still-tearful Jenny’s diaper when Ellen walked in the front door. He seemed to have aged ten years in the past hour. The long sleeves of his wool shirt were rolled up to the elbows as he struggled with the tape on Jenny’s disposable diaper.

  Reed shook his head and sagged with relief. “Good thing you’re here. She hasn’t stopped crying from the minute you left.”

  “You look like you’re doing a good job without me. Where’s Danielle?” She glanced around, smiling at Jimmy; the little boy hadn’t moved from the sofa, his face still hidden in the cushions.

  Reed muttered a few words under his breath. “She couldn’t stay.” He finally finished with the diaper. “That wasn’t so difficult after all,” he said, glancing proudly at Ellen as he stood Jenny up on the floor, holding the baby upright by her small arms.

  Ellen swallowed a laugh. The diaper hung crookedly, bunched up in front. She was trying to think of a tactful way of pointing it out to Reed when the whole thing began to slide down Jenny’s pudgy legs, settling at her ankles.

  “Maybe you should try,” Reed conceded, handing her the baby. Within minutes, Ellen had successfully secured the diaper. Unfortunately, she didn’t manage to soothe the baby any more than Reed had.

  Cradling Jenny in her arms, Ellen paced the area in front of the fireplace, at a loss to comfort the sobbing child. “I doubt I’ll do any better. It’s been a long while since my brother was this size.”

  “Women are always better at this kind of stuff,” Reed argued, rubbing a hand over his face. “Most women,” he amended, with such a look of frustration that Ellen smiled.

  “I’ll bet Jimmy knows what to do,” she suggested next, pleased with her inspiration. The little boy migh
t actually come up with something helpful, and involving him in their attempts to comfort Jenny might distract him from his own unhappiness. Or so Ellen hoped. “Jimmy’s a good big brother. Isn’t that right, honey?”

  The child lifted his face from the cushion. “I want my mommy.”

  “Let’s pretend Ellen is your mommy,” Reed coaxed.

  “No! She’s like that other lady who said bad words.”

  Meanwhile, Jenny wailed all the louder. Digging around in the bag, Reed found a stuffed teddy bear and pressed it into her arms. But Jenny angrily tossed the toy aside, the tears flowing unabated down her face.

  “Come on, Jimmy,” Reed said desperately. “We need a little help here. Your sister’s crying.”

  Holding his hands over his eyes, Jimmy straightened and peeked through two fingers. The distraught Jenny continued to cry at full volume in spite of Ellen’s best efforts.

  “Mommy bounces her.”

  Ellen had been gently doing that from the beginning.

  “What else?” she asked.

  “She likes her boo-loo.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Her teddy bear.”

  “I’ve already tried that,” Reed said. “What else does your mommy do when she cries like this?”

  Jimmy was thoughtful for a moment. “Oh.” The four-year-old’s eyes sparkled. “Mommy nurses her.”

  Reed and Ellen glanced at each other and dissolved into giggles. The laughter faded from his eyes and was replaced with a roguish grin. “That could be interesting.”

  Hiding a smile, Ellen decided to ignore Reed’s comment. “Sorry, Jenny,” she said softly to the baby girl.

  “But maybe he’s got an idea,” Reed suggested. “Could she be hungry?”