The word was so pitiful, so replete with meaning that Caleb’s heart twisted into a tight knot.
Beside him, Noah whined.
Caleb put his hand on the dog’s head and said, “Okay.”
Noah trotted over to the bed, licked Grace’s cheek, then sat with his eyes trained on her tiny face, waiting for any sign of response.
There was none. Noah whined again, as frustrated by the desire to reach her as Caleb was.
He glanced at his watch. Already midafternoon. Way past time for lunch.
Should he stay here or try to take her downstairs for something to eat? He didn’t want to upset her further, and yet, they had the weekend ahead of them. He had to feed her. They would have to start somewhere.
He crossed the floor, keeping his body posture as unintimidating as he could. He squatted by the bed, his kneecaps hitting the side of the mattress. “Would you like to go downstairs and get some lunch, Grace? I understand peanut butter and jelly is your favorite.”
She shook her head again. Her tears began to build in momentum. “Mama. Mama.”
The walls of the house seemed to sway with the sound of the child’s grief. The crack in Caleb’s heart widened, and he saw himself as he must look to her. A man who had taken her from her mother. The truth hit him hard. And wasn’t it so? Because to her, he was nothing more than exactly that.
IT WAS NEARLY FIVE O’CLOCK when Caleb pulled into Sophie Owens’s driveway.
Grace sat in her car seat in the backseat of the truck, Noah on the floorboard beneath her. Only now did her sad face transform with happiness.
She had cried for the remainder of the afternoon, until her eyes were swollen and she could barely catch her breath. Nothing he said could console her.
Finally, he’d gathered her up, put her in the truck and driven her home.
Sophie’s car sat in the driveway and lamplight shone from the living-room window.
“Mama,” Grace said and began trying to unfasten the buckle to her car seat.
Caleb got out and opened the back door. It took him a few seconds to unclasp the belt. He lifted her out, set her on the ground beside him and told Noah to wait in the truck.
They headed across the yard, and Grace offered no resistance when Caleb reached for her small hand.
At the front door, he knocked. A minute passed with no answer. He rang the bell. Still no answer. Maybe she was out back.
He leaned over and picked Grace up, surprised now to find that she didn’t pull away from him, then walked around the house. No sign of anyone out there.
He tried the front door again, but still no response.
He went back to the truck, reached for his cell phone and dialed the number she had left inside Grace’s suitcase.
The phone rang and rang, and he began to get a worried feeling in the bottom of his stomach.
They walked back to the front door where he knocked again.
Grace pointed at the flowerpot on the top step. “Key.”
Caleb bent down, lifted the edge and pulled it out. “Thank you,” he said and then wondered if he should just leave and come back. But having brought her this far, he couldn’t imagine doing that to Grace.
Without giving himself time to change his mind, he put the key in the lock and turned it quickly. He stuck his head just inside and called out, “Sophie?”
There was music coming from somewhere in the house and light shone from the upstairs hallway.
A bark sounded from the top of the stairs and then Grace’s dog came scampering down the steps.
“Lily!” Grace said, clapping her hands together.
The dog’s tail wagged so hard, it was a near blur.
Where was Sophie? Caleb’s bad feeling intensified. “Grace, would you wait here with Lily while I look for your mama?”
The child nodded.
In the kitchen, Caleb opened a couple of cabinets, found some animal crackers and took them into the living room for Grace before heading upstairs.
Grace’s bedroom was the first on the right, judging by the little-girl baby dolls and stuffed animals. He passed another that looked like a guest room. The door to the room at the end of the hall was closed. He knocked, tentatively, and then more forcefully.
He turned the knob. Not locked. He opened the door a few inches and called her name again. He stuck his head just inside and saw her on the bed. She lay with her face away from him, and there was something in the way she appeared to have collapsed into the position that sent a spear of panic through him.
“Sophie?” He crossed the rug-covered floor to the bed, his heart pounding hard. He put his hand on her shoulder, but she didn’t move. Fear grabbed him by the throat now. She wouldn’t do this. He scanned the room for signs of anything she might have taken, then ran to the bathroom, flicking on the light.
A bottle sat on the sink, the lid removed. He picked up the container and quickly scanned the label. For Temporary Relief of Insomnia. Quantity: 8.
The bottle was empty. He dropped it into the sink as if it had scalded him. In the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the mattress and lifted her to a sitting position. “Sophie. Sophie, can you hear me?”
Her head lolled back and another hammer of panic slammed through him. This couldn’t be happening. She wouldn’t have done this. He grabbed her wrist, put his thumb to her pulse. Thank God, it was there.
Putting an arm under her legs, he picked her up and carried her into the bathroom. He opened the shower door, set her against the wall, then turned on the water, checking to make sure the temperature was right. He pointed the nozzle directly at her, the cold water sluicing across her face.
For a couple of moments there was no response, and then she made a sound, visibly struggling to open her eyes.
Within seconds, she was completely soaked, the cotton of her white blouse sticking to her skin and outlining the sheer bra beneath.
She made another sound of protest and opened her eyes fully, looking up at him. He could see her trying to focus, finally registering his presence.
“Oh, no,” she said so softly he could barely hear her.
He turned off the shower. “Are you all right?”
She turned her head to the side and squeezed her eyes together. “Why are you here?”
Before he could answer, she jerked her gaze back to him and began struggling to get up. “Oh, my God. Grace. Is she all right?”
Caleb squatted down, placing his hands on her wet shoulders. “She’s fine. Let’s talk about you for a second.”
She looked up at him, relief in her eyes. “Where is she?”
“Downstairs with Lily. How many of those pills did you take?”
Sophie sank back against the wall of the shower as if her bones refused to hold her up. “I’m not sure. I—” She thought for a moment and then said, “Oh. You don’t think I tried to—”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“I just wanted to sleep for a while. I didn’t think I could stand—” She stopped again, as if realizing he wasn’t the one she should be telling this to.
“There were no pills in that bottle. How many did you take?”
She frowned. “I…a couple, I think. I just wanted to make it all go away for a little while.”
The honesty of the words turned the blade of remorse inside him several degrees. In trying to get his own life back to a place of sanity, how had he managed to block out the devastation he would be bringing to this woman’s life, to Grace’s life? Here, in this moment, he was sorry to see how successfully he had managed to ignore all but his own pain and the need to end it.
“Wait right here, okay?”
She nodded once and rubbed at her eyes.
He headed back downstairs to the living room where Grace was happily sharing her animal crackers with Lily. Caleb gave her a few more and then went to the kitchen, found the coffeepot on a counter, filled it halfway. He searched the pantry for coffee, finally thinking to look in the freezer where he found a bag
of beans. He dumped some in the grinder beside the pot, measured out a few tablespoons, then poured in the water.
“Where’s Mama?”
Grace stood in the doorway, her small voice surprising him. “She was asleep. I’m making her some coffee, and then she’ll be right down.”
Grace danced one of the animal crackers through the air, but otherwise didn’t acknowledge what he’d said, as if she was considering whether to believe him. She turned and went back to the living room.
Once the coffee had finished, Caleb filled a cup and retraced his steps back upstairs.
Sophie still sat on the shower floor with her head resting against the tile wall. Her eyes were heavy, as if she could barely keep them open.
“Here,” he said, squatting beside her and putting the cup to her lips.
She blinked once, sipped the hot coffee, then took the cup from him, touching the back of one hand to her mouth. “Thank you.”
They said nothing for a few more sips. Halfway through the cup, she straightened her back against the wall and pushed her hair from her face. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Better.”
“Can you stand?”
She nodded, accepting his hand to help pull herself up. She managed to lean against the wall, then glanced down at the blouse clinging to her skin. She raised both arms to cover herself while awkwardness struck them both mute.
Caleb set his gaze on the shower floor and said, “If you’ll tell me where to find them, I’ll get you some dry clothes.”
“Anything from the closet. Maybe just my robe.”
He went into the bedroom, retrieved it from the hook on the closet door. When he returned to the bathroom, she looked as if it had required every ounce of her strength to remain standing.
“I didn’t do this intentionally,” she said.
He handed her the robe and turned his back to her. “It didn’t seem in character.”
“Meaning?”
“You seem like a strong woman,” he said, unsettled by the rustling sound of clothing being removed.
“I’m not sure how you could think that considering my current state.” She stepped around him to drop the wet clothes in a pile by the sink. Her hair still dripped water. She reached for a towel and rubbed at the ends. “Why did you bring her back?” she asked softly.
He didn’t answer right away, and then admitted, “She needed to see you.”
Sophie raised her gaze to his, and Caleb thought he’d never seen such gratitude—and he’d never felt so completely unworthy of it. Neither of them said anything else.
But then words didn’t seem necessary when two people understood one another as the two of them now did.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
DOWNSTAIRS, SOPHIE PUT a hand to her mouth at the sight of Grace patiently waiting on the living-room rug, arms outstretched, a smile lighting her face.
Sophie lifted her up, held her tightly and rocked side to side, breathing in the sweet child scent of her. Tears slid down Sophie’s cheeks even as she tried to stop them.
“Don’t cry, Mama,” Grace said. “I’m back.”
Sophie glanced at Caleb then. He stood at the edge of the kitchen, arms crossed at his chest, looking as if he wished he could disappear. “I’ll be going now,” he said.
A dozen different emotions assaulted her, none of which she had the presence of mind to separate and identify right now. She could only imagine what it must have cost him to bring Grace back today. “Thank you,” she said. “Thank you.”
Their gazes held for a moment before he nodded and left the kitchen, the front door closing quietly behind him.
WITH HIS DEPARTURE, the silence was stark. Sophie stood beside Grace, one hand on her small shoulder. Let him go. Wouldn’t it be crazy to do anything else? But he had brought her daughter back.
She pressed a kiss to the top of Grace’s head, ran to the foyer and swung the door open wide. “Caleb! Wait!”
He’d already begun backing out of the driveway. She ran down the brick walkway and stopped at his lowered window. “Stay for dinner,” she said.
From the backseat, Noah stuck his head out and licked Sophie’s hand.
“I should be going,” Caleb said.
“Please.”
He stared at her, then shook his head. “Look, Sophie. Don’t make me out to be something I’m not. I brought Grace back because she obviously needed you. There’s nothing selfless about that.”
She considered the response, and then said, “I’m not trying to put a label on anything, Caleb. It’s just dinner.”
Another stretch of moments passed and his gaze held hers. He turned the truck off. She stepped back. He opened the door and got out.
“Noah’s invited, too,” she said.
Caleb lifted the seat. The dog barked and jumped out, tail wagging.
The three of them walked back to the house, Noah leading the way. And all Sophie could think was how incredible it was that a single day could hold such surprises.
SHE PULLED INGREDIENTS from the refrigerator for a quick stir-fry. Zucchini, yellow squash, a couple of onions, sweet red pepper. The rice was already boiling, and she poured a little olive oil in a pan to sauté the vegetables.
She glanced out the window, her head pounding. Only this morning—could it have been that recent?—her world had gone pitch black, as if all the lights had been flipped out. Now Caleb and Grace were in the backyard throwing a Frisbee for Lily and Noah. Grace pointed at the swing set and said something while Caleb listened with quiet concentration.
He would have been a good father.
The thought tripped into her consciousness, bringing another realization along with it. Only a man with a good heart would have done what he had done today.
He had brought Grace home because he thought this was where she needed to be.
Sophie had no idea what it meant. She didn’t want to think any further ahead than right now. Her daughter was home. And the man who had taken her away had brought her back.
THEY ATE AT THE KITCHEN table, Grace in her booster chair, Caleb at one end, Sophie at the other.
Caleb ate like a man who enjoyed his food. Sophie liked to cook, enjoyed experimenting with new dishes. His quietly issued compliments felt sincere, and it was nice to prepare something for someone who seemed to appreciate it so much.
Grace kept her gaze on Sophie for most of the meal, as if afraid she might disappear. When she yawned for the fifth time, Sophie finally stood and picked her up. Grace put her head on Sophie’s shoulder, her small body heavy with sleepiness. “Bedtime, I think,” Sophie said to Caleb. “Let me just take her upstairs.”
“I’ll go on home,” he said. “You’re probably tired, too.”
“Wait,” she said.
Several beats of silence ticked by before he nodded. “All right.”
In Grace’s room, Sophie changed her into pajamas, tucked the covers up around her and kissed her cheek.
“Mama, I won’t have to go away again, will I?” she asked, snuggling into the pillow with Blanky clutched under one arm.
“Let’s not think about any of that right now. Just sleep, baby, okay?”
But Grace didn’t answer. Her eyes were already closed.
Downstairs, Caleb had cleared the table, rinsed the plates and put them in the dishwasher. “You didn’t have to do that,” Sophie said halfway across the kitchen.
He shrugged. “Least I could do for a dinner like that.”
“Thank you,” she said. “How about some coffee?”
“Sounds good. I’ll check on those two dogs.”
He went out the back door. Her hand shook a little as she prepared the coffee, and she told herself it had to be her body’s reaction to a day of such intense highs and lows.
He was back in a couple of minutes. “Still playing. They’ve just about worn each other out.”
Sophie smiled. “I’m sure Lily’s loving it.”
“Noah, too. I think he’ll sleep for
a week.”
“Coffee’s ready,” Sophie said, a sudden spike of awkwardness forcing her to focus on pouring them each a cup. “Take anything in yours?”
“Straight up.”
“Me, too.” She handed him the steaming cup.
“Thanks,” he said, gripping the sides with both hands.
She tipped her head toward the screened porch. “Drink it out there?”
He nodded and followed. Most of the backyard was visible from the porch. Lily and Noah lay stretched out nose to nose in the cool grass, eyes closed.
Caleb smiled his rare smile. “He used to get like that as a puppy. Play until he was completely out of gas and just totally collapse. Laney said—” He stopped, then took a sip of his coffee.
“Go on,” Sophie prompted softly.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Do you do that deliberately?”
“What?”
“Not talk about her.”
“Probably.”
“That seems like an injustice to her,” Sophie said. “Especially when she must have been a special person.”
Caleb kept his gaze on the yard, as if he was considering her words. Minutes passed.
When he spoke, his voice had the soft rasp of memory to it. “She used to say that the world would be a much happier place if people could feel the kind of joy for simple things that dogs do. If people showed their pleasure for seeing one another at the end of the day the way dogs do.”
Sophie let the words settle, then said, “I think she was right. People make happiness way too complicated.”
He tipped his head to one side, and she wasn’t sure if he agreed or not.
“Tell me about her,” Sophie said.
He turned his back to her and shoved his hands into his pockets. After a few moments, he began to talk, and this time it was as if his response were being pulled from him by something beyond his control. “She liked to read. Sometimes, she’d ride her horse out just far enough from the house to be away from the phone. The horse would graze, and she’d lose herself in a book for a couple of hours.
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