And now he’s got me talking to myself, too, she added, perplexed and flustered. Next thing I know, I’ll be giving his hand an affectionate squeeze.
As if on cue, her fingers contracted ever so slightly and she did just that.
Greg’s response was to smile at her and gently tighten his grip.
Head swimming, heart pounding, Maya wondered if she was ever going to regain her self-control or if she was destined to spend the rest of her life on an emotional roller coaster. She consciously hoped not, but truth to tell, she was secretly wondering what surprises were still in store.
Michael’s sermon was as much a history lesson as anything else. He contrasted the faith of the Old Testament patriarchs with that of the founders of High Plains, including Will and Emmeline Logan, who were Maya’s ancestors, and Zeb and Nora Garrison, who were Greg’s.
He concluded with a reference beginning in Isaiah 55:8. “I can’t tell any of you why disasters occur or why extraordinarily damaging tornadoes have hit High Plains. I can only quote the prophet Isaiah. ‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the Heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.’”
Michael paused, then continued. “I can’t begin to know the mind of God. None of us can. But I do know He has given us a chance to reach out to each other and show that His spirit is living in each of us.”
Greg once again squeezed Maya’s hand as Michael concluded in prayer.
By this time she was beyond pulling away. On the contrary, it was beginning to feel so right to have him holding her hand that she was loath to think of the moment when he would finally release her and they would go their separate ways.
“I’ve been wondering how our little friend is doing,” Greg said as they headed for the child care room to pick up Layla after the service.
“Who? Tommy? The last time I saw him he was hanging around the lady collecting stray animals.”
“That figures. I’m concerned about him, too, but I meant the little blond girl we found. Have you heard anything about her?”
“No. And she has been on my mind. Do you want to walk over to the hospital and visit her?”
He shrugged. “Think they’d let us in?”
“I can’t see why not. After all, we found her in the first place.”
“Assuming anyone remembers us. It was pretty hectic Friday night.”
“That’s putting it mildly,” Maya replied. “It’s all kind of a blur.”
“I know what you mean.”
“You do?”
Greg chuckled and nodded. “I sure do. Until I finally got a few hours sleep last night I hardly knew if I was coming or going.”
“You were doing both,” she teased.
“How right you are.”
When they opened the door to the room full of children, Layla immediately squealed in delight and ran straight to Greg. Surprised and flattered, he swung her in an arc and carried her out while Maya followed, looking a bit chagrined. He could understand that. She’d been Layla’s only caretaker for so long it must be hard to accept the fact that the child was fond of someone else, too. The astounding thing was that the little girl seemed to genuinely like him. Him.
He chose to make light of it for Maya’s sake. “I think the princess likes the view from way up here. That’s what you get for being shorter.”
“My feet reach the ground so I must be tall enough,” she quipped back. “That’s what my brothers always used to tell me. They both inherited Dad’s height. I’m more like my mother was.”
“I imagine you wrapped both Clay and Jesse around your little finger just the same. I never had siblings but I can picture you lording it over those bigger, older boys.”
“I might have. Just a little.” Maya smiled wistfully as she looked at Greg. “I really miss Clay.”
“Where did you say he was?”
“Being a real cowboy, as usual, up in the wilds of Canada. He’s guiding pack trains for hunters so he’s out of touch with civilization for weeks at a time. Sometimes longer. I keep telling myself that’s why he hasn’t called me back. I doubt there’s any way he’s heard about what the tornadoes did here.”
“You weren’t specific when you left the message for him?”
“No. I didn’t want to scare him to death.”
“He’ll call eventually. He’s a Logan so he’s probably good and stubborn, but he’ll phone you when he can. I know he will.”
“What do you mean, Logans are stubborn? I’m not.”
It was all Greg could do to keep from bursting out laughing. He settled for a knowing grin. “Of course you’re not. You were eager to listen to my advice when I told you we needed to go to the basement during the storm and you couldn’t wait to accept my help afterward. Right?” His grin widened when she made a silly face.
“Okay, okay. You’ve made your point.”
“Good.” As he led the way out of the departing crowd and started across the church lawn, Tommy Jacobs ran up and tugged on the back of his jacket.
“Did you find Charlie?” the boy demanded. “Did ya? Huh?”
“Sorry, no,” Greg said. “But I’ll be going out again this afternoon to work by the river and I promise I’ll keep my eyes open for him while I’m there.” As the child’s countenance fell and he started to walk away, Greg asked, “How’s it going at home? How are your foster parents doing since the storm?”
“Okay, I guess.” He worried the muddy grass with the toe of his already dirty sneaker. “Mrs. Otis stays in bed a lot but Mr. Otis is a pretty good cook—if you like hot dogs all the time.”
“Is she sick?”
Tommy shrugged. “I dunno. Nobody talks to me.”
“Well, I’ll keep looking for Charlie,” Greg assured him. “Don’t give up hope, okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”
All Greg said as the boy left them was, “Poor kid.”
“Should we go look for Charlie now?” Maya asked.
“Not if we plan to go very far. Like I said, I promised Michael I’d help him do more work on the Waters cottages this afternoon and I only have about an hour free. That’s enough time for a meal. Are you hungry?”
“Where do you propose we go? The pizza place is still closed.”
“Yes, but Isabella’s is open.”
“That’s so fancy.” He saw her glance down at her casual outfit and flat shoes.
“I’d be delighted to take you there—or anywhere—even if you were wearing shorts and old tennis shoes,” Greg said. “Don’t be a snob.” The instant he’d said that he rued being so frank.
“Me? A snob? No way.”
At this point he saw no graceful way to recant so he forged ahead. “In reverse,” he explained. “You’re assuming that just because the prices are higher at Isabella’s Ristorante, the people inside are stuck up and wouldn’t accept you. I’ve been dining there often since I came back to High Plains and I happen to know that’s not so. They’re just as down to earth as you and I are.”
She arched a graceful brow. “As I am, maybe. There is nothing down to earth about you.”
“Ouch.” He pretended to grimace to cover the fact that her comment had truly wounded him. “I thought, after the past few days, you were beginning to see me as a real human being.”
“I am. I do. But you can’t change the fact that you’re a Garrison, any more than I can change being a Logan. As Reverend Michael reminded us this morning, we come from very different backgrounds. Your people were rich mill owners and merchants and mine were dirt-poor cattle ranchers.”
“So?”
“So, that’s just how it is.”
“No,” Greg countered, “that’s how it used to be. We’ve come a long way since then. Don’t get so focused on the past that you miss out on the future, Maya.”
She didn’t say another word until they got to the hospital, and even then she directed her comments to others, ra
ther than to him. If he hadn’t been carrying Layla he wondered if her mother would have even acknowledged that he was still there. It pained him to imagine that she might not have.
Blond, petite, Nicki Appleton was leaving the hospital as Maya and the others arrived. She greeted everyone with a smile, centering its brightest glow on Layla. “Hi. How’s my favorite pupil doing?”
“We’re all fine,” Maya answered over her daughter’s squeal of delight. “What brings you here, Nicki? Is everything okay?”
The preschool teacher nodded. “It will be. I’ve been visiting that poor, lost little girl you found out by the Waters cabins.”
“Do they know who she is yet?”
“No. We’ve been calling her Kasey. The initials K and C were embroidered on her shirt so it seemed natural to put them together like that. We tried every name beginning with a K sound that we could think of and she didn’t respond to any of them.”
“Will they let us see her?”
“I can’t see why not. Maybe Layla being there will encourage her to talk more. The area where you found her was searched thoroughly and there was no sign of her parents or anything that may have belonged to her or them. We’re stuck unless she identifies herself.”
“What will happen to her?” Maya asked, deeply concerned.
“As soon as she’s released I’ll take her home with me,” Nicki answered. “I’ve fostered babies before and since she can also go to work with me, it won’t pose a hardship.”
“That sounds ideal. Which room is she in?”
Nicki pointed, gave brief directions, then bid them goodbye and hurried off.
As Maya entered the hospital and made her way down the hall, she knew that Greg was following close behind. She could feel his presence and hear Layla babbling to him in her childish way. To his credit, his replies were always given as if he and the child were having an intelligent, adult discussion. He never patronized or talked down to her, nor did he seem to be holding a grudge since Maya had fallen silent.
Truthfully, she hadn’t known how to respond to his suggestion that she was clinging to the past. Her first reaction had been to categorically deny it. Then, as she’d begun to mull it over, she’d decided he might have a valid point.
That, of course, was not something she intended to tell him.
Greg could not be as good as he seemed, she argued. No man was. She was merely overwrought at present and would soon be back to her normal, logical, sane self. She just hoped she didn’t slip and do something rash before that happened.
Like what? she asked herself.
Her cheeks flamed the instant her heart answered far too honestly. Like kiss him the way I’ve wanted to. And hope he kisses me back.
Her steps momentarily faltered.
Greg touched her elbow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Maya answered, disgusted. “I’m just so mad at myself I could scream.”
“That’s probably not a good idea in here,” he teased. “You might end up in their psych ward.”
Hearing the amusement in his voice she whipped around, hands fisted on her hips, and faced him. “Well, if I did it would be your fault, you, you…”
Well, that was certainly an adult response, Maya concluded, so upset she could hardly think straight. And totally befuddling, if the look on Greg’s face was any indication.
She clenched her teeth to stop herself from continuing past the point of no return.
Layla had already had her arm around the man’s neck. Now, she leaned closer to whisper in his ear.
As Maya watched them, she saw a grin spread across his handsome face. His dark eyes sparkled and there were little smile lines at the corners—lines she was becoming all too familiar with.
“What?” she demanded. “Are you two conspiring against me now?”
“Not at all,” Greg said. “The princess was just assuring me that you might sound mad but you didn’t mean to.” His smile widened. “Is she right?”
With a grimace Maya did the only fair thing. She answered honestly. “Yes.”
Chapter Eleven
The curly-haired blond toddler was napping in a crib when Maya, Layla and Greg entered her hospital room.
“She looks so tiny,” Greg said softly.
Layla seemed fascinated but also held tightly to him. “Who is she?” the three-year-old asked.
“We don’t know. Your mother and I found her after the tornado and brought her here.”
“Where’s her mama?”
“We don’t know,” Maya replied. “They can’t find her.”
“She looks sad.”
Greg gave Layla a little hug as he continued to carry her. “She’ll be okay. The doctors and nurses will take good care of her here.”
Once again, Layla leaned close to his ear to speak only to him.
This time, instead of sharing her comments, he excused himself. “We’re going to go back to the lobby for a second. Wait for us here?”
Maya nodded. She had approached the bed and was gently stroking the child’s hair away from the small bandage covering the injury to her forehead.
Seeing Maya’s kindhearted ministrations touched Greg’s heart and made his gut clench in a way that was unfamiliar to him.
As he and Layla hurried away, he was thankful for the break. Staying so near to Maya of late had been doing strange things to his thought processes. He knew he’d done the right thing when he’d offered her the spare apartment, yet he was beginning to have serious misgivings about her being so close by all the time. Working with her was one thing. Having her as his neighbor, being with her constantly, was clearly another.
Greg entered the gift shop and set Layla down. “Okay. Your choice. Pick a toy that you think the little girl would like. Just remember she’s younger than you are.”
Taking her assignment so seriously it almost made him chuckle, Layla wandered among the stuffed animals as if her decision was critical. She picked up one toy after another, weighed it carefully, then moved on.
He glanced at his watch. “Tell you what. Choose any one now. In a few days, if Kasey hasn’t gone home with Miss Nicki, we’ll come back and buy her another toy. Okay?”
“Okay.” Layla handed him a small pink teddy bear similar to the ruined one he’d seen Maya pull from the rubble of her living room.
He passed it to the clerk, asking quietly, “Do you happen to have two of these?”
“Yes,” she whispered. “Would you like them wrapped?”
“Not this one,” he replied with a wink. “We’ll take this upstairs with us now. Charge me for two and wrap the other one. I’ll pick it up in a few minutes on my way out.”
“Yes, sir.” She removed the tags, then bent and handed the bear to Layla. “Here you go, honey. I hope your little friend likes it.”
Greg paid quickly and followed Layla to the elevator. Judging by the affectionate way the child was hugging the gift bear, getting a second one had been a good decision. The fact that she hadn’t asked for anything for herself made him doubly glad he’d bought two.
Kasey was awake by the time they rejoined Maya at her bedside. She seemed a bit shy until Layla approached and offered her the stuffed toy. Greg saw their gazes meet and sensed a childish empathy.
“See? She likes it,” he told Layla. “You made a wonderful choice.”
“Uh-huh.” The child’s expression was one of both joy and subsequent sadness as Kasey cuddled the small pink bear and began to babble to it happily.
“Have you been able to get her to talk well enough to tell what she means?” he asked Maya.
“No. She’s said plenty but nothing I could make sense of. Layla was speaking in short sentences when she was about this age. I’d hoped for the same.”
“Maybe she’ll do better once she’s out of a hospital setting. She’s certainly happy with her new toy.”
“I know. Layla used to have…”
Standing off to the side where the three-year-old couldn’t see his fac
e, he placed a finger across his lips to silence Maya and gave her a nod toward the door. “I have to be back to work with Mike soon and we haven’t eaten yet. I think it’s time we headed for Isabella’s.”
“Okay.” Although she took her daughter’s hand and started toward the door, she looked puzzled.
As soon as they reached the hospital lobby, Greg gave her a sign to wait and ducked back into the gift shop. When he emerged carrying a gaily wrapped gift and handed it to Layla, he thought Maya was going to cry.
“She seemed to love it and there were two just alike so…” He knew he was grinning foolishly but the little girl was so thrilled with the simple gift he couldn’t help himself. She tore away the paper and hugged the bear as if she were greeting a long lost friend.
Maya picked up the discarded wrapping and wadded it into a ball. “You shouldn’t have.”
“Yes, I should,” Greg countered. “She didn’t ask for anything for herself. All she was concerned about was buying the perfect toy for Kasey and I figured she deserved one of her own.”
“That was so sweet.”
To his surprise his cheeks warmed. “Hey, that’s me,” he joked to cover his embarrassment. “Mister Nice Guy.”
“Well…”
Her slow drawl, misty eyes and lopsided smile made him laugh softly. “Okay, okay. I won’t press it. Wouldn’t want to undermine my reputation as a ruthless businessman.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Maya said. Her smile became one of adoration as she cast a loving look at her child. “But I won’t ever forget what you just did, either.” Her subsequent “Thank you” was delivered with a catch in her voice.
Greg didn’t know what to say in reply. He had done it for the little girl, not to impress her mother, yet it seemed he had pleased them both.
If he’d been sure it was wise to be glad about having done that, he’d have felt a whole lot better about the situation. Unfortunately, he was having serious misgivings in regard to almost everything that had to do with Maya Logan. He already liked her far too much for his own good, and his emotional attachment to her and her daughter was increasing so rapidly he could hardly keep track of his burgeoning feelings from moment to moment. This was not good. Not good at all.
Healing the Boss’s Heart Page 11
