Because of the Baby...

by Cat Schield

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to stop by the ICU before we leave the hospital,” Lark said as they walked down the hall to the elevators. “This is Grace’s first time outside the NICU, and I want her to see her mother before we leave.”

  Lark didn’t add that she was hoping that Grace’s presence would somehow miraculously awaken Skye from her coma.

  “Of course.”

  As always, she was discouraged by the sight of her beautiful, vibrant sister lying so still, the only sign of life the beep and electronic readouts coming from the machines that measured her vitals. But Lark’s reaction today was worse than normal. Her throat closed up as misery swamped her. What if Skye never woke up? What if Grace never got to know how amazing her mother was?

  “Damn,” she muttered, wiping away the moisture that escaped the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said to Keaton.

  “For what? Being sad that your sister is like this? It’s terrible.”

  She wanted to smile in appreciation of his understanding, but her facial muscles were controlled by the ache in her heart, so she settled for a nod.

  “Skye, this is Grace. You haven’t had a chance to meet her because she’s been too tiny to leave the NCIU. She’s so beautiful. I wish you would open your eyes and see for yourself.” Staying away from the wires that connected Skye to the monitors, Lark fitted Grace into the hollow between her sister’s arm and her side. “She needs her mommy.”

  As soon as Lark finished speaking, Grace punched outward with both fists and opened her eyes. Lark half expected her face to screw up in distress, but the baby blinked and relaxed in a way that Lark had never seen before. Was it being snuggled against her mother for the first time in three months?

  Keaton leaned forward to peer at Grace. His shoulder pressed against Lark’s back. “She looks happy.”

  “The mother-daughter bond is alive and well.”

  How comfortable it would be to rest her head against his broad chest and pull his muscular arms around her body. The longing for his touch was so compelling, Lark had to dig her fingernails into her palms to keep from acting on the impulse. What was happening to her? She’d never been so physically drawn to a man before. Usually the men she dated were intellectually stimulating, but not exactly fantasy material. Not that they were unattractive, but their allure had been mostly cerebral.

  Grace yawned and her eyes drifted shut. She knuckled one cheek. Her other hand rested on her mother’s arm.

  The anxious knot in Lark’s chest tightened. “What if Skye never wakes up?” It was the first time she’d spoken the fear out loud.

  “She will.” Keaton’s big hands settled on her shoulders. “As Grace gets stronger, so will her mother.”

  Keaton’s words couldn’t have been any more perfect. Lark’s optimism surged.

  “You’re right.” As much as she was loathed to disrupt the rapport that had bloomed between her and Keaton, she needed to get Grace home and settled. “Say goodbye to your mommy,” she said to the baby, lifting her away from Skye. It hurt Lark’s heart to separate mother and daughter, but she told herself it was only temporary. Before she left Skye’s bedside, Lark turned to Keaton. “I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done. I realized this morning that I’d underestimated how much I needed to get ready for Grace’s homecoming. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  Her father would be furious to hear her say those words. But if he and her mother refused to step up and be grandparents to Grace, they had no right to criticize Lark for accepting Keaton’s assistance. Unfortunately that wouldn’t stop them from bombarding her with their opinions. Lark cringed away from thinking about her father’s ire. Always volatile where the Holts were concerned, he’d become a powder keg since the tornado leveled his tree farm.

  “You don’t need to thank me,” Keaton said. “We’re doing this for Grace, remember?”

  “For Grace,” she agreed.

  With Keaton a step behind her, Lark headed out of the ICU. As she neared the door to the hall, two people came into view. Her parents. They stood at the nurses’ station, speaking with Lark’s coworker Jessa and hadn’t spotted Lark or Keaton yet.

  She slowed her pace, all too aware of Keaton’s towering presence behind her. In the rush of getting prepared for Grace’s homecoming, Lark had neglected to mention to her parents that Keaton would be helping her with Grace. Or maybe she’d dodged the issue to put off dealing with her father’s ire as long as possible. Lark gathered a breath to bolster her courage. This encounter promised to get ugly.

  Her mother spotted her first. “Lark?” Her gaze bounced from her daughter to the man shadowing her. “What’s going on?”

  At Vera’s sharp tone, Tyrone Taylor glanced around. His expression twisted with disgust when he saw Keaton.

  “Grace is coming home with me today,” Lark explained, stopping a good fifteen feet away from her parents, hoping distance and a soothing tone would keep her father’s temper from flaring. “I brought her to see Skye before we left.”

  “And him?” Lark’s father demanded. “What’s he doing here?”

  “I’m driving Lark and Grace home.” Keaton’s level reply was neither defensive nor aggressive. His body radiated calm confidence at Lark’s side, but her tension didn’t ease.

  Lark had let Keaton take on the role of Grace’s caretaker because her parents hadn’t stepped up. Was that dawning on Tyrone and Vera or were they too consumed by their needs and desires to realize they would never be nominated for grandparents of the year?

  “Since when are you two so chummy?” Tyrone demanded, his attention fixed on his daughter.

  Lark felt her chin lift to a defiant angle in response to her father’s hostility. “Keaton is Grace’s uncle. We are both concerned about her welfare.” She glanced down at the tiny bundle of pink sweetness they all should be concerned about, but failed to refocus her father’s attention.

  “I don’t know why you’ve accepted Jake as Grace’s father. He sure as hell isn’t acting like it. What sort of man abandons his baby and the woman he claims to love?” Tyrone shot Keaton a hard look. “What does your brother have to say for himself?”

  “I haven’t spoken with Jake.”

  Lark’s father made a dismissive noise, but his next words were for Lark. “I told your sister four years ago that Jake was going to ruin her life.”

  “He hasn’t.”

  “He forced her to turn her back on her family and now he’s abandoned her.”

  “You don’t know that he did,” Keaton said. “I know my brother. He loves Skye. If he’s not here, there’s a good reason why.”

  “And none of that matters at this moment,” Lark chimed in, modulating her voice so as not to disturb the sleeping infant. “Grace and Skye need all our love and support. That’s where our energy should be focused.” Frustration ate at her. She needed her father to put aside his dislike of all things Holt and concentrate on what was best for his daughter and granddaughter. “We should get going. I need to get Grace home.” In the spirit of putting differences aside, Lark added, “It would be great if you could come by later this week and have dinner. You could spend some time getting to know Grace.”

  “Maybe you should bring her out to the ranch instead,” Tyrone countered, his hard gaze still resting on Keaton.

  “Preemie’s lungs are always delicate,” Lark explained. “It will be better for Grace if she doesn’t venture out for the first few weeks. That’s why I wanted you to come over.”

  “Will he be there?”

  “We’ll check our schedule and let you know what works for us,” Vera said in a rush, her response geared toward ending the conversation. She fussed with the numerous bracelets on her wrist and glanced at the clock on the wall. “Tyrone, I have a meeting with my nutritionist in forty-five minutes, so we’d better go see Skye before we run out of time.”

  Lark said goodbye to her parents and headed for the elevator. She didn’t realize how much she�
�d been dreading running into them until she let out a huge breath.

  Keaton shot her a somber glance. “You okay?”

  “That could have gone so much worse.”

  * * *

  Keaton agreed. But it should have gone a lot better.

  For the first time in his life, Keaton was having difficulty keeping his opinion to himself. The reserve Tyrone and Vera demonstrated toward their daughters irritated him. It was one thing to dislike Jake, Keaton and their parents based on grievances that had plagued generations of Taylors and Holts over numerous decades. It was another to let that animosity drive a wedge between them and their lovely, successful daughters.

  “It’s cool outside,” he remarked as they stepped off the elevator. “Why don’t you wait in the lobby while I bring the car around?”

  Lark settled into a seat by the door and he set the diaper bag beside the chair. Before he could leave, she stopped him with a light touch on his arm. “Keaton, I’m sorry about what my father said about Jake. My sister adored your brother.”

  He didn’t like her use of the past tense. “I believe she still loves him. I don’t know what’s happened between them these last four years or why he’s not here now, but until I know for certain that my message about Skye and Grace has gotten to him, I’m going to trust that they’re still together and very much in love.”

  “I wish I had your faith.”

  Her melancholy expression weighed on him as he strode to the parking ramp where he’d left his car. Until he’d approached her about assisting with Grace’s care, she’d never struck him as someone who needed help. Her competent exterior deflected anyone from noticing her vulnerability to harsh words and malicious intent.

  Today, watching her in the NICU with the other nurses, seeing her anxiety, had cemented his perception of her as someone he should be taking care of.

  The feeling had been building since the day he went with her to buy Grace’s crib, working its way through his subconscious. Now it burst upon him like a solar flare.

  Thanks to the land dispute between the Taylors and Holts she might not ever be his friend, but with Baby Grace’s arrival, she’d become his family.

  With this fresh insight firmly entrenched in his awareness, Keaton helped Lark settle Grace into her car seat for the ride home.

  “I’m going to sit in the back with her,” Lark said, fussing over the straps that secured the tiny infant.

  “I’m sure she’ll feel safe with you beside her.” Keaton got behind the wheel and started the truck. As the vehicle eased away from the curb, he worried over every bump in the road. “How is she doing?”

  “Great. She’s still asleep.”

  “Good.” Silence reigned as Keaton concentrated on navigating the traffic around the hospital. Lark’s house was a ten-minute drive, but it seemed to take twice that long. At last they arrived and began the process of releasing Grace from her safety seat. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about our situation in the last couple days,” he began as Lark unlocked her front door and stepped inside. Keaton followed her with Grace nestled in his arms.

  “What situation is that?”

  The baby was starting to wake and Lark offered to take her, but Keaton shook his head. Now that he’d grown accustomed to how tiny and fragile she was, he liked snuggling her against his chest and watching her yawn and blink.

  “The one where we trade off taking care of Grace.”

  “You’ve decided you’re too busy to help out?” She set her hands on her hips and regarded him with resignation. “I think she’s hungry.”

  “Then this is a great time for you to show me what goes into one of her bottles.” He waited patiently until she spun on her heel and headed into the kitchen, and then he followed with Grace. He watched how Lark went about measuring the powdered formula and mixing it with water. “Most new mothers get to take off six to twelve weeks off work. You’re only taking a week. I think you’re going to need me around to do more than watch Grace while you’re at the hospital.”

  Lark turned with the bottle in her hand and eyed him. “You don’t think I can manage?”

  “I think you will wear yourself to the bone trying to take care of Grace and Skye while working full time.”

  “My mother already offered to pay for a nanny and I refused.”

  Keaton saw the hurt in Lark’s eyes and voiced the idea that had been cooking in his subconscious for several days. “I think I should move in here.”

  “Move in?”

  It made perfect sense. Ever since the DNA results came back he’d been contemplating how best to stake a claim on Grace for the sake of his brother and the Holt family. Moving in with Lark would prove he was as dedicated to his niece’s welfare as she was.

  “You demonstrated last week that your schedule is subject to change,” he pointed out, seeing his logic was encroaching on her doubts.

  “That’s true, but it’s not exactly as if you have a lot of time on your hands.”

  She was right about that. Between his regular duties at the ranch, the rebuilding efforts there and in town, he was stretched thin.

  “Grace is my family. I’m going to do everything in my power to take care of her.”

  Lark exhaled tiredly. “I appreciate that you feel responsible, but you don’t actually have to move in.”

  His muscles relaxed as he heard the beginnings of capitulation in her voice. “It would be better for you if I was here full-time.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Have you considered what will happen if Grace is up all night? If I’m here we can take turns getting up with her.” He could see she was weakening. “It makes sense.”

  “Let me sleep on it tonight?” She held out her hands for the baby.

  This time, Keaton gave up Grace. “Sure.”

  Only she never got the chance to sleep. Neither did Keaton. Shortly after Grace finished eating, she began to fuss.

  “It’s probably just a little gas,” Lark explained, setting the infant on her shoulder and patting her back encouragingly. “Once she burps, she’ll be fine.”

  But Grace wasn’t fine and neither Lark nor Keaton could get her to quiet. During the second hour of the baby’s crying, Keaton got onto his tablet.

  “She’s dry, fed and obviously tired. Why won’t she sleep?”

  “Because it’s her first day out of the NICU and she’s overstimulated.”

  “It says here we can try white noise. Do you have a vacuum cleaner?”

  Lark shot him a look. “It’s in the laundry room.” She pointed toward a door at the back of the kitchen.

  Keaton plugged in the vacuum and turned it on. The hum acted like a swarm of bees against his eardrums, agitating him. If it had this effect on him, what must it be doing to a fussy baby? Closing the door behind him to muffle the sound, Keaton returned to the living room, where Lark paced and rocked Grace.

  “Is it helping?” he asked, peering over her shoulder at his niece.

  “I don’t think so, but maybe we should give it a little time. She’s pretty wound up at the moment.”

  But after an hour, it was obvious that the white noise was having no effect. Keaton returned to searching the internet for answers.

  “How about wrapping her up?” he suggested. “Says here that babies feel more secure when they’re swaddled.” He cued up a video and watched it. The demonstration looked straightforward, but the woman used a doll, not a real baby. “Give me Grace and watch this.”

  After several minutes, Lark set the tablet aside. “We can try it. I’ll go see if I have a blanket that will work.” She returned with two blankets of different sizes. “Hopefully one of these will do the trick.”

  As Keaton had feared, swaddling a live, unhappy baby was a lot harder than an unmoving doll.

  Lark braced her hands on the dining room table and stared down at the swaddled baby. “This doesn’t look right.”

  Keaton returned to the video. “I think we missed this part here.”<
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  Grace was growing more upset by the second and she’d managed to free her left arm.

  “Is it terrible that I have no idea what I’m doing?” Lark sounded close to tears. It had been a long, stressful evening.

  “Not at all. I think every first-time parent feels just as overwhelmed as we do right now.”

  “Thank you for sticking around and helping me.”

  “We’re helping Grace.”

  The corners of Lark’s lips quivered as she smiled. “Not very well, as it happens.”

  And then, because she looked determined and hopeless all at once, Keaton succumbed to the impulse that had been threatening to break free all week. He cupped her cheek, lowered his head and kissed her.

  Four

  The press of Keaton’s lips against hers lasted all of ten seconds, but they were ten of the best seconds Lark had ever experienced. With his granite features and steely nature, she expected his lips would be stiff, his kisses firm and unyielding. Therefore she was caught off guard by the softness of his mouth, the luxurious press and pull as he captured her sighs.

  For ten seconds her brain stopped and her body came alive.

  Then Grace’s insistent protests came between them like a wedge, bringing reality back.

  “Let’s try the swaddling again,” Keaton suggested, his long black lashes obscuring his eyes from her as his hand fell away from her face. “I think I know where we went wrong.”

  The next try went much better, but it wasn’t snug enough for Grace’s taste. Lark stood beside Keaton, her body alive with raucous cravings, her mind numb with disbelief, and watched his big hands wrap the cloth around the flailing infant. His confidence had grown in the last couple hours as he’d taken his turn trying to calm Grace. Lark’s belief in his abilities had increased, as well. She appreciated how he’d not just stood by helplessly and let her figure out what was wrong with Grace, but he’d taken to the internet to find a solution to soothe the infant.