by Hope Ramsay
The playground was deserted, which suited everyone. Mike didn’t want to end up chatting with a bunch of young mothers. Timmy seemed a little stiff and uncomfortable playing with the sand toys. And Rainbow didn’t talk, so she was probably better off without a bunch of kids around her.
“I’ve hired a private investigator,” Timmy said as he dusted sand from his pants. He left Rainbow and sat with Mike on a bench. “You should know that Andrea insisted upon it. She wants to make sure that Rainbow is in a safe situation.”
“Andrea?”
“Dr. Newsome.”
“Does she think I’m abusing Rainbow?”
Tim pressed his hands together and hesitated just a moment before he spoke again. “She just wants to make sure Rainbow is safe, Mike. For what it’s worth, I know you’re not abusing her. Andrea wants to meet with you next week.”
“Okay. Did you raise the issue of the cat? Did she have any ideas about how we should handle that?”
“She dismissed it as not important right now. She said we needed to give Rainbow a stable situation.” Timmy paused a moment as if gathering his thoughts. “Mike, the truth is, I took a look at the family photo albums, and there aren’t any pictures of me before the age of about three. I’m not going to be surprised if the investigator comes back and verifies your story. So I think we need to think about finding Tigger a new home.”
Mike said nothing. The sudden pressure on his chest made speaking impossible. It suddenly occurred to him that, after all these years, he’d finally found his little brother. And Angie’s death might prove to be the catalyst that brought them back together. He might find a family here in Timmy.
And that scared the crap out of him at the same time that he longed for it with all his heart. He’d left behind the small, vulnerable kid he’d once been. He’d slammed the door on him. He’d pushed his pain way down deep. He didn’t want to drag it all back out again.
But reconnecting with Timmy would require it. If Timmy took Rainbow, would Mike be able to walk away from both of them?
Damn.
“I’ll see what I can do about the cat,” Mike said. Focusing on the cat meant he didn’t have to take this conversation to any kind of emotional place.
Except Timmy had other ideas. “So,” his brother said on a long breath, “tell me about us as kids.”
“You were adorable,” Mike managed through his tight throat. “Daddy would take you to the grocery store and everyone would ooh and aah over you. Not me. I was the red-headed stepchild. Literally.”
Timmy said nothing. He got the message. They sat there quietly for the next two minutes, and then his little brother got up and went back to the sandbox.
Thank God. It took Mike a good ten minutes to get his heart rate back to normal. He didn’t want to drag out these memories, and he wouldn’t.
He could hand Rainbow off to Timmy, and they could make some new memories. And he’d go back to Vegas and sign a deal with Dragon Casinos.
Timmy and Mike skirted the minefield of their childhood for the rest of the day, even when Timmy suggested dinner at a barbecue joint called the Red Hot Pig Place. The place was pretty busy, and they got a lot of stares from the other customers, no doubt wondering what two white guys were doing with a kid like Rainbow. Or maybe the people there were Timmy’s congregants. It didn’t matter.
They got stared at.
To say they all enjoyed dinner would be to exaggerate. Timmy and Mike chowed down on some really good barbecue. Rainbow tried one hush puppy and turned her nose up at the rest.
It was almost Rainbow’s bedtime by the time they got back to the apartment. But she needed a bath, because she had sand everywhere. And, of course, she wanted to bring Tigger into the tub with her like a rubber ducky. Tigger wanted no part of that. So the day ended with another battle royale.
And then Mike screwed up and got soap in Rainbow’s eye when he washed her hair. And when a lot of Rainbow’s hair fell out when he rinsed, Mike kind of freaked. This was what came of feeding her nothing but pizza.
But that’s exactly what he planned to do before putting her to bed. He got her dressed in her new Dora the Explorer PJs and let her watch crap on the Cartoon Network while he headed for the kitchen.
The kid needed someone competent to take care of her. After watching Timmy play with her today, Mike had concluded that his brother was as clueless about kids as Mike himself.
Rainbow needed a mother. Which meant Timmy needed a wife.
And Sabina Grey wasn’t the right choice. The antiques dealer wanted no part of any kind of relationship with Timmy. And Timmy didn’t seem all that interested in Sabina.
He would need to compile a list of the single women in town and check them out. He was standing in the kitchen nuking a slice of frozen pizza and thinking about how to approach this subject with Elsie when the doorbell rang.
Boy, Elsie was good. She must have ESP or something.
He strode to the door and opened it, prepared for an onslaught of church lady nosiness.
Oops, wrong busybody. The cute one with the amazing rack stood on his threshold looking like a wholesome take on a Vegas showgirl. Gone were the muddy jeans and smelly boots, traded in on a sundress that showed off her shoulders. And, wow, they had adorable freckles.
What had happened? Up until this moment, the only shoulders he’d seen on Dr. Charlene Polk had been cold ones.
“What?” he said, forcing himself to be abrupt. He knew a lot of babes with cute shoulders. He could resist.
“Um, well, uh, I brought a couple of things, you know, toys and books. For Rainbow.”
He noticed the yellow shopping bag with the words “Flights of Fancy Bookstore” on its side. Okay, he’d figured it out. She had decided to employ subterfuge to check up on him. He wanted to tell her to take her books and toys and boobs and go bother someone else.
But then he figured Rainbow probably had never been given a book in her short life. At least not a new one bought just for her. So, for the kid’s sake, he relented.
“Come on in. She’s watching TV.”
He backed away from the door. Dr. Polk hesitated for a moment on the threshold, eyeing his wet shirt. “What happened to you?”
“Bath time,” he muttered. “Can I get you anything? I’ve got Cokes and beer in the fridge.”
“That sounds about right,” she muttered as she crossed the room and sat down next to the little girl.
The demon cat came over to investigate the moment Charlene sat down.
“Watch out, she scratches,” he said.
Charlene gave him one of those female looks, like she knew what she was doing and he should just butt out. Which, he supposed, was fair since she was a vet. And besides, Tigger seemed to be bonding with her. Kind of the way she’d bonded with Elsie the other day.
Of course that had ended badly. But she’d been warned.
Mike headed back to the kitchen just as the microwave timer dinged.
He pulled the pizza out of the oven and fixed a tray for the kid, with the pizza and a glass of milk. He brought the tray to the threshold of the living room and got no farther.
Dr. Charlene Polk had switched off the television. Rainbow, Tigger, and Charlene were all snuggled up together, and the cute vet was reading from a bright yellow book with a goofy-looking blue cat on the cover. The story was all about a cat with a new pair of tennis shoes walking down the street singing a song. “I love my white shoes. I love my white shoes. I love my white shoes.” Dr. Polk sang the stupid, repetitive song and started to sway with her upper body. So naturally Mike got sidetracked watching the doctor’s chest. He was so mesmerized that he almost missed the fact that Rainbow was moving to the song, too. Tigger was not.
In fact, Tigger seemed to be offended by the entire scenario. She left Charlene’s lap and walked her majestic self back into the bedroom.
Mike, on the other hand, stood there enjoying the floor show as Charlene read all about Pete the Cat’s adventures as he walke
d through berries and mud and water, changing the color of his shoes each time. When the story ended, Rainbow spoke for the first time in two weeks.
“Again.”
Something clutched at his insides. He could hardly draw breath as Charlene read the book again. And again. And again.
Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Dr. Polk worked with animals. She had a knack for reaching out to those who couldn’t speak. He could almost see the way her touch healed Rainbow. Not just the words from the book, but the way she looked at the kid, the way she wrapped her arm around her.
Rainbow felt safe with Charlene.
Mike checked out Charlene’s hands. No wedding or engagement rings. He hadn’t seen any boyfriends hanging out at her place, not that he’d been looking. She gave off wholesome, single-girl vibes, but with a seriously hot body.
She’d be perfect for Timmy.
Charlene read Pete the Cat half a dozen times, enjoying the way Rainbow’s head snuggled against her shoulder. And she loved the way Rainbow smelled—like freshly bathed little girl. As the child’s head got heavier against her shoulder, warm, seductive feelings crept deep into her heart.
She should run away from this. It said more about the unresolved issues from her life than it did about Rainbow’s problems, or Mike’s skills as a child-care provider. From all she could see, Mike was doing the best he could to take care of a child who had lost her parents.
The apartment was cleaner by far than her own place. The living room looked freshly vacuumed, which was a huge improvement over the way Martha kept the place. You couldn’t step into Martha’s house without picking up cat hair. But not now, with Mike in residence. And Rainbow was clean, too, and dressed in appropriate PJs.
Just then, Mike entered the living room with a tray bearing a piece of pizza and a glass of milk. “It’s time to eat,” he said. “Give Dr. Polk a chance to rest her voice.” He said it kindly and brought the tray into the living room, where he placed it on the coffee table.
It wasn’t the most well-balanced meal. And he’d served it in front of the television. But letting a kid eat pizza on a tray didn’t seem like a crime. Parents all over the country let their kids eat pizza without any vegetables. And hadn’t he told her that Rainbow only wanted pizza, and the little girl had been traumatized? So really, pizza seemed like a silly thing to hassle him about.
Rainbow picked up the TV remote and turned the set on before she fell on her pizza like a starving waif. The Cartoon Network flickered to life with a garishly painted animated show featuring a character named Uncle Grandpa who was kind of gross and inappropriate for a child Rainbow’s age. Charlene wanted to suggest that Mike turn on the Disney Channel instead, but she had already overstepped her boundaries.
She needed to make a truce with her neighbor. She needed to recognize the truth. She’d come here because Rainbow drew her like a blooming wisteria attracts honey bees. And not really because of any other reason.
She pushed up from the sofa. “I should be going.” She awkwardly pointed over her shoulder toward the front door.
“You sure you don’t want a beer or something?”
“No. No, thanks.” She headed for the door.
Mike followed her. “Thanks for the book, and for reading to Rainbow. She hasn’t said one word in almost two weeks. You managed to break her silence. I’m grateful. Really. You can come read to her anytime.”
Charlene turned around, putting the door behind her. She needed to back off. Rainbow would move on with Mike, or stay and become Pastor Tim’s child. Charlene didn’t factor in either scenario at all.
So she drew herself up and looked Mike in the eye. “You can read to her anytime. Have you ever tried?”
Red crept up his neck and merged with the fiery stubble on his cheeks. She had to stomp on the sudden urge to touch that stubble, to feel the warmth of his skin. She couldn’t deny the truth. She found him almost irresistible.
“Busted,” he said, pulling her back from her suddenly raging libido. “You’re right, Dr. Polk. I haven’t read to her. I don’t even have any kids’ books here. So I appreciate your thoughtfulness. And please, do not hesitate to make suggestions. I don’t pretend to know a damn thing about kids. I’m a gambler, not a father figure. And I sure do wish folks would quit blaming me for who I am.”
“I haven’t done that, have I?” She said the words before she thought about them.
“No, actually you haven’t. You’ve blamed me for being something that I’m not.” He said this with the slightest tilt to his mouth.
He was right. She had thought the worst of him. “I guess that’s fair. I’m sorry. I just don’t understand how you could walk away from her.” Except that she could imagine. Hadn’t she walked away from a child once?
“I have no intention of walking away. I intend to find her the best possible family. And while we’re clearing the air, you should know that I intend to put aside a portion of my winnings for her, so that she wants for nothing in the future. I used to send her mother money, but I figure Angie probably used it to buy drugs. With Rainbow, the money is going into a trust, and I’ll make Timmy the trustee.”
“Money can’t buy love,” she said.
“I actually know that, Dr. Polk. That’s why I’m here. I can support her, but I can’t give her what she needs. I need good-hearted people like you and Timmy to take care of loving her. I’m no damn good at that sort of thing.”
Charlene opened her mouth to argue, but what could she say?
She couldn’t quibble with his goals. They were noble in their own way. And you couldn’t argue someone into love. Love had to be nurtured. You either felt it or you didn’t. And if Mike didn’t love Rainbow, then he had no business raising her or caring for her.
Charlene ought to go. Now. But she seemed to be stuck there, looking up into his blue, blue eyes. Something needy and terribly sad flickered in the depths of that deep, blue gaze. And it occurred to her that Rainbow might not be the only person in this apartment who needed love.
“So,” Mike finally said into that awkward moment, “I think it would be terrific if you came by to read to her. She really likes you. I think you make her feel safe.”
And just like that Charlene knew she’d allowed herself to be sucked into a situation that would, eventually, shatter her heart.
CHAPTER
8
On Sunday afternoon Charlene rushed up the steps to the classic portico of her parents’ Greek revival home. She was a half-hour late to her daddy’s birthday party, and she’d missed church entirely, all because one of George Nelson’s milk cows had come down with mastitis.
She’d had to rush out to the farm early this morning, make her diagnosis, prescribe the antibiotics, inspect his milking equipment, and quarantine two additional cows.
No one could argue about her excuses today, but her parents would still find a way to say something ugly and hurtful to her. They didn’t understand her passion for farm animals.
They wanted her to marry someone like John, the real estate lawyer who had actually proposed to her two years ago. But John wanted her to move to Atlanta, give up her practice, and be happy spending his money on decorating and redecorating his large monstrosity of a house.
She had tried to change John. She had failed. And when she refused his marriage proposal, Mother and Daddy had both had conniptions.
They didn’t understand her. They never had.
“There you are, at last. We were starting to think you were planning to boycott,” Mother said as Charlene made her way into the formal front parlor. Mother gave her an air-kiss. Heaven help her if she actually deigned to kiss Charlene on the cheek like a normal mother. Charlene smelled the wine on Mother’s breath.
Daddy stood by the fireplace, bourbon in hand, talking to Uncle Rob. The brothers looked like a couple of bookends dressed in their dark gray business suits.
Aunt Millie, Uncle Rob’s wife, played peek-a-boo down on the carpet with her grandson, Upton Lockheart
, Cousin Rachel’s seven-month-old. The dark-haired child drooled all over Mother’s priceless Persian rug, but luckily Mother was riding her Riesling-high and didn’t notice.
“I need to speak with you,” Daddy said, turning away from Uncle Rob.
Uh-oh. Charlene knew that tone of voice. He crossed the carpet on his highly polished wing tips, effectively blocking her path to the bar, where Cousin Simon hung out with the other male cousins, Bubba and Drew. Molly and Rachel sat together on the couch cooing over Valerie, Simon’s three-month-old daughter.
Charlene wished she could teleport herself over to the bar. Like Mother, she suddenly needed a little pick-me-up.
“Drew tells me that you’ve been all over town, trying to sign people up for this ridiculous auction,” Daddy said. “I gather he’s agreed, and I’ve been trying to get Rob and Millie to put their feet down on this issue. It’s embarrassing to have one of my nephews participating in something like this. And I have to say, Charlene, that I’m disappointed in you for running around town trying to sign up unmarried men.” His disappointment didn’t surprise Charlene one bit. She had never, ever made him happy. Not once.
“Sorry, Daddy,” she said in her best phony-contrite voice.
Unfortunately Daddy knew all her tricks. “Do not take that tone of voice with me, Charlene. I deserve respect.”
She worked hard not to roll her eyes. “Yes, sir,” she said, investing the honorific with as much irony as she could muster.
“You and Drew will not participate in any auction that involves selling human beings, is that clear?”
“Gee, Daddy, you make it sound like we’ve brought back slavery to the new South. It’s just a fund-raiser. And since I’m a vet and a member of AARC’s board, I’m doing more than participating. I’m organizing. As for Drew, he’s already signed his papers and given me his promise, so I think that ship has sailed.” She looked past her father to her cousin Drew, who grinned back at her. He raised his beer in her direction and gave her a wink and a beery salute.
He had really grown up and filled out the last couple of years. He bore the unmistakable brown eyes and dark hair of the Polk clan. Like Cousin Simon, he kept his hair a tad too long for convention. And he had chosen not to wear a suit.
