“It fell out of its nest, and we tried to find its mom, but she never came back for it.”
Leah felt her mouth open. That was the longest string of words she’d ever heard Jackson utter.
“That was very kind of you.” She kept her voice guarded. “We should call the humane society. If they don’t take in squirrels, they’ll know who does.”
“Actually―” The rumble of Austin’s voice cut her off as she was about to look up the phone number. “Jackson would like to keep it.”
Leah froze. They wanted her to keep a squirrel? In her house? She glanced at Austin, who held her gaze, eyes pleading. Was it that Jackson wanted her to keep the squirrel, or that Austin did? But when she turned to Jackson the same pleading was reflected in his eyes.
She sighed. How was she supposed to say no to that? But her mind seized on something. A squirrel was a wild animal. “I’m sorry, Jackson. It’s illegal to keep wild animals. Maybe we can get some fish or something.” Fish were easy to take care of, weren’t they?
But Austin and Jackson were both smirking at her. It was uncanny how much they looked alike when they did that.
“Actually, there are exceptions in Wisconsin, including . . .” Austin looked at her, and she could almost swear he was going to wink, but then he gestured to Jackson.
“Squirrels,” the boy filled in. Austin grinned and held out a hand for a high-five, which Jackson returned with a matching grin.
Something twinged at Leah’s middle, and she pushed it aside. She should be happy that Austin and Jackson had bonded today. Maybe it meant Jackson would open up to her too.
She reached behind her head and gathered her hair into a ponytail, thinking. Just because it was legal to keep a squirrel didn’t mean she wanted one in her house.
“But we don’t know the first thing about taking care of a squirrel. I’m sure they need special food and a cage and― What?”
They were both giving her that dorky grin again.
“I went to the pet store.” Austin ran a hand over his cropped hair, as if self-conscious. “I got some food and a cage and some toys.”
Jackson looked at Austin as if the man were his hero.
Leah stiffened. This had gone far enough. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
“It was no big deal. It was just a few things.” Austin ducked his head as if she had thanked him.
“I mean, you shouldn’t have done that without asking me first. I hope you can return it all. Because we’re not keeping that squirrel. We’ll call the humane society in the morning.”
Both Austin and Jackson jerked their gazes to her. But this time, where Austin’s was apologetic, Jackson’s was insolent. He jumped to his feet, snatching up the box and stomping toward the hallway.
“I hate you.” The ugly words were completely devoid of emotion, but Leah winced, turning away and blinking rapidly to clear the moisture that filled her eyes. She didn’t need Jackson to know he’d hurt her.
She stared out the front window, where the flurries that had started falling earlier were now collecting in a thin layer on the grass.
“I’m sorry.” Austin’s voice was low. “I shouldn’t have interfered.”
She heard him push to his feet and cross the room but didn’t turn her head.
A gust of cold air swept over her as he opened the front door.
“The way he took care of that squirrel, though. It was pretty amazing.”
The door closed with a click, and Leah rubbed at her forehead.
Just when she thought parenting might be getting easier, her kid brought home a squirrel.
Chapter 11
Austin rubbed at his gritty eyes as he stared out his front window. When had the sun come up?
A nightmare had woken him well before dawn, and he’d been sitting here on the couch since then, but apparently he hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings.
He’d been too stuck in his own head, thinking about Chad and Tanner and Isaad. And Leah and Jackson.
Much as he tried, he couldn’t get his mind off his new neighbors. Off the way spending time with Jackson had started to feel natural yesterday. Off the way he’d stopped thinking the boy was Isaad every time he saw him. Off the glint of tears in Leah’s eyes when Jackson had said he hated her.
He never should have overstepped the way he had. He’d put Leah in an awkward position.
He should go over there and apologize. But she’d probably prefer if he left them alone. Pretended he’d never met them. Austin rubbed at his leg, but it didn’t do anything to ease the tightness that constricted his chest.
He tried to shake himself out of it. He’d been on his own for months now. There was no reason to be disappointed that his budding friendship with his neighbors had ended. Hadn’t he promised himself not to get close to anyone here anyway? He’d be leaving soon, and the fewer people he had to say goodbye to, the better.
Movement next door caught his eye, and he angled his head toward Leah’s yard in time to see her stomping toward his house through the thin layer of snow that had settled on the grass. Apparently he’d been wrong about her preferring to leave it alone. She obviously hadn’t yelled at him enough last night.
He got to his feet and pulled on his stocking cap, emerging onto the porch as Leah reached the bottom of the steps. The morning was sharp and clear, and the snow created a dazzling backdrop in the winter sun. For a second, Leah’s hair seemed to glow, and he was almost tempted to reach out to see if it was real.
Fortunately, he had more sense than that.
“Good morning,” he said cautiously.
“Good morning.” She sounded equally uncertain as she climbed the porch steps to stand level with him.
“I’m sorry―” he said, at the same time she said, “I shouldn’t have―”
They both broke off, then both started again. Austin forced himself to be quiet. Let her talk first, then he could apologize.
“I just wanted to say I was sorry about last night.” She wrapped her arms around her down jacket, ducking her chin into the white fluffy scarf wound around her neck. “I was kind of blindsided by the whole squirrel thing. But I think you were right. I think I should let Jackson keep it.”
Austin gaped at her. She wasn’t yelling at him? She thought he was right?
“I just wanted you to know. And to apologize for yelling at you.” She lifted her head so that her mouth was no longer covered by the scarf and offered him a slight smile. “Again.”
Austin finally found his voice. “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have overstepped like that. I was having fun with Jackson, but I didn’t think long term.” He tugged his hat lower over his ears against the sting of the morning chill. “What made you change your mind?”
She peered over her shoulder, toward her house. “Jackson’s mother died when he was six. Drug overdose. He had no father, and he’s been in foster care ever since. Nine families in six years.”
Austin’s stomach rolled. He’d seen kids in a lot of terrible situations in Afghanistan, but somehow he never thought of horrible things happening to kids in his own country.
Leah shrugged. “I started thinking about what it must be like for him, to find this baby squirrel that was abandoned. And the compassion he showed in wanting to take care of it. Maybe it’s a sign that somewhere in there is a little boy who wants to be taken care of too.” Leah tucked a stray piece of hair under her hat. “Anyway, it was pretty obvious he was happy with that creature.” She hit him with a direct look. “And with you.”
He lifted a hand, almost reaching for her arm, but then lowered it. “I shouldn’t have shoved myself into a relationship with him like that.” He’d seen the flash of envy in her eyes yesterday as she’d watched them together, and he couldn’t blame her.
But Leah shook her head. “I’m glad you did. Right now, anyone who can get through to him is my hero. Speaking of which, maybe you should be the one to tell him he can keep the squirrel. You’re the one who helped him t
ake care of it, and he’d probably rather talk to you than to me anyway.”
It would be fun to tell the boy, Austin had to admit that. But he wasn’t going to take that joy from Leah too. “Nah. He should hear it from you. You’re his mom.”
Leah’s brow creased. “I don’t know if he’ll ever consider me his mom.” Her voice cracked, and this time he did touch her arm, only for a fraction of a second.
“Give it time. You care a lot. Anyone can see that. He’ll figure it out eventually too.”
“Yeah.” She stuffed her hands in her coat pocket. “Aren’t you freezing?” She gestured to his sweatshirt. “Why don’t you ever wear a coat?”
“I’m good. You look cold, though. Do you want to warm up with some coffee? I’ve got a pot made.” He didn’t know where the invitation came from. For some reason, he had an urge to keep talking right now. Or maybe it was that he had an urge to keep talking to her.
“No thanks.” Leah took a backward step down the porch stairs. “I need to wake Jackson up for church.” She turned and bounced down the last two steps. At the bottom, she turned back, looking tentative. “You’re welcome to come with us if you like. To church.”
With the sun backlighting her like that, it wouldn’t take much of a stretch to imagine she was an angel. But he’d long ago figured out angels weren’t real. And neither was God.
He shook his head once, said, “No thanks,” then turned to the house and stepped inside. On his way through the living room, he allowed himself a glance out the front window. Leah was almost back to her house already, and as he watched her walk through the snow, he let himself wonder, just for a second, what would have happened if he’d said yes to her offer.
Something tugged at his heart, but he ignored it.
“What do you want to do now?” Leah glanced at Jackson, who had sat stock still through the entire service, although at her prompting he’d at least stood at the appropriate times. With his blank expression, it was impossible to tell if he’d gotten anything from the service.
But her heart felt a million times lighter after worshipping her Savior. Dan’s sermon about trust had been exactly what she’d needed to hear. A perfect reminder that God had never failed her―and he wasn’t about to now.
Jackson shrugged. “I have to feed Ned.”
Leah still didn’t understand how the squirrel had gotten that name, but she wasn’t going to fight it. At least Jackson was talking to her now. He’d offered a simple “thank you” when she’d told him he could keep the squirrel, but she’d seen the way his eyes brightened.
“What about after that? Is there anything fun you want to do? I’m not sure there’s enough snow to sled yet, but we could go somewhere. I heard Rothman’s Farm has opened their Christmas Wonderland. We could go feed some goats and stuff.”
Jackson was silent so long Leah was sure he wasn’t going to answer. Finally, though, he said, “Can Austin come?”
Leah forced herself to keep her expression neutral. Jackson wasn’t trying to hurt her feelings, she was sure. “Don’t you want to do something, just the two of us? Get to know each other better?”
But Jackson shook his head. “I want Austin to come.”
Okay, maybe he was trying to hurt her. But she wasn’t going to let him see how it affected her. “I guess we can ask him.”
They rode the rest of the way home in silence, and the moment they entered the house, Jackson went to his room, presumably to feed Ned, whose cage they’d perched on Jackson’s dresser. Leah set to work making him a peanut butter and jelly. She’d decided not to push him to eat with her―or to try other foods―for now. One step at a time.
She dropped the sandwich off in Jackson’s room, then made one for herself and started to text Austin.
We’re going to Rothman’s Farm. Jackson wanted to know if you’d like to come.
She studied the words. She wanted to make sure it was abundantly clear that the invitation was from Jackson, not her. Finally satisfied that there was no way he could read more into it than was there, she sent it off. She tried to force herself to eat, but she couldn’t help checking her phone every few seconds to see if he’d replied. She couldn’t decide if she wanted him to say yes to make Jackson happy or to say no so that she and Jackson could spend the day alone together.
As she finished her sandwich, her phone dinged with his response.
Do you want me to come?
Ugh. Leah almost threw her phone across the room. How was she supposed to answer that question? And how did he even mean it?
If you want to. She eyed her response, then sent it off before she could change her mind.
This time she only had to wait a few seconds for his response. Sure. Be over in a minute.
Leah exhaled, relief and tension colliding in her belly. Much as she wanted to spend the day alone with Jackson, she had to admit that having Austin there as a buffer would almost certainly be helpful. Which was probably why her pulse quickened ever so slightly when she glanced out the window and saw him approaching.
“Jackson,” she called down the hallway. “Austin’s here. Time to go.”
She opened the front door before Austin could knock, and he stepped inside, bringing with him the smell of the cold outdoors, but also something underneath that―something warmer and more masculine. She took a step back to widen the space between them.
“You’re sure you don’t mind if I come?” Austin spoke quietly, his face almost boyish with uncertainty.
“I told you―” Leah waved a hand as if it didn’t matter to her one way or the other. “If you want to come, you should come. If you don’t want to―”
“I don’t want to get in your way.”
She lifted a shoulder. “You―”
But before she could finish that sentence―which she had no idea how to end―Jackson traipsed into the room.
He went straight to Austin, who held out his hand for a fist-bump.
“I get to keep the squirrel.” Jackson’s voice was filled with more enthusiasm than Leah would have imagined he possessed.
“So I heard.” Austin reached over to ruffle the boy’s hair, and Leah pressed down a fresh pinch of jealousy. It was good for Jackson to have someone he could relate to, she reminded herself. Even if it wasn’t her.
“Are we ready to go?” She took in Jackson’s t-shirt and shorts. Clearly not.
She pointed toward his room. “There’s snow on the ground. You need to wear something warm. Pants and a jacket.”
Jackson nodded toward Austin. “How come he doesn’t have to wear a jacket?”
Leah eyed Austin’s sweatshirt in exasperation. Did no one around here know how to dress for the Wisconsin weather?
“I’m not his mom,” she finally said. “Now go put on some warmer clothes.”
“You’re not my mom either,” Jackson muttered, so low that Leah could almost convince herself she’d only imagined it―except for the searing pain cutting across her stomach. “And I don’t have a jacket.”
Leah dropped her head. That was true. Between his suspension on Friday and the wedding yesterday, she hadn’t had time to get him one yet. Maybe this had been a bad idea. Maybe they should stay home after all.
“Go put on some pants like your mom told you to.” Austin’s voice was even. “I’ve got something you can wear for a jacket.”
Leah braced for Jackson’s outburst. But after watching Austin for a minute―who watched him in return, not blinking―Jackson spun and stomped down the hallway. Leah was pretty sure he muttered, “She’s not my mom” once more before he ducked into his room.
She stared at the floor, trying to decide if she should thank Austin or ream him out for stepping in. Before she could make up her mind, he murmured, “I’ll be right back” and disappeared out the front door.
She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes as she waited for both of them. Please help us have a good day together, Lord. Help me have the patience to be a mother to Jackson. She’d never had to
pray for patience before―it generally came naturally to her―but she felt as if she’d used up her lifetime reserve of it, and now she was left without any right when she needed it most.
As she opened her eyes, they caught on Austin crossing the yard toward her house. He had a different kind of a walk―not swaggering exactly, but sort of stiff. She tried to decide if he had a limp or if it was her imagination.
Just as she’d decided it was her imagination, he looked up, and even through the window, his eyes seemed to snag on hers. She inhaled but found she suddenly couldn’t exhale. After a second, he disappeared from the window as he reached the front steps, and she could at last breathe out again.
She sucked in a couple of quick extra breaths, working to get herself under control. That had been strange―and it wasn’t something she wanted to repeat when he was standing right next to her, so she moved toward Jackson’s room as she heard the front door open.
But Jackson had apparently been waiting for Austin, because he emerged from his room the moment the front door opened. At least he was wearing pants now.
“Here you go, dude.” Austin held out a sweatshirt that matched his own, and Jackson shoved past Leah to grab it, immediately pulling it over his head. Great. In their matching shirts, the two looked even more like father and son.
“Now are we ready?” Leah grabbed her car keys and slipped past them to lead the way out the door. She and Austin reached for the door handle at the same time, their fingers brushing for an instant. She jerked hers back and let him hold the door open as she practically flew outside and down the steps, barely resisting the urge to stick her hand in the snow to cool the shock of warmth she’d felt at his touch.
Chapter 12
They’d been at the petting zoo for an hour already, and still Austin had no idea what had possessed him to accept Leah’s invitation. Maybe it was the way she’d apologized earlier this morning. Or the earnest look she’d directed his way when she’d invited him to church.
Not Until Christmas Morning (Hope Springs Book 5) Page 7
