Their Baby Blessing

by Heidi McCahan

  “My mom will be home from her physical therapy appointment soon.” Skye crossed to the table in the breakfast nook, where a can of soda and a bag of chips sat between a laptop and a large calendar. Did she have another job she hadn’t mentioned? He shifted from one foot to the other, and kept his coat and his boots on, worried that one wrong move might earn him an icy stare.

  She slumped into the chair with a sigh, then shot him a look, her smooth brow furrowed. “Why are you just standing there?”

  “I’m waiting for my orders.”

  “What?”

  “My orders. You look stressed. Or busy. Maybe both. If you need to get some work done, I’d be glad to shovel the driveway or something until Connor wakes up.”

  “You don’t work for me.” She massaged her forehead with her fingertips. “I’m not going to ask you to shovel my driveway. Or boss you around.”

  Okay. He ducked his head to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This was probably not the best time to mention that she’d been bossy since the first second they’d met. He took his time unlacing his boots and hanging his jacket on the rack near the door. How long did a baby sleep anyway? Hopefully not much longer. Gage needed Connor to wake up and save him from Skye and her fragile mood.

  He padded in his socks toward the table and slowly eased into the chair across from her. He wasn’t good with females and tears. No matter how hard he tried, he always seemed to say the wrong thing. Did she want to talk about it? She sure didn’t seem like she wanted his help. While he racked his brain for something safe to say, her phone chimed, and she pounced on it. She swiped at the screen, her eyes quickly scanning, and then she flung the phone back on the table in disgust.

  Oh boy. Gage wiped his sweaty palms on the legs of his jeans and braced for a fresh wave of tears.

  “Perfect. Just perfect.” She glared daggers at the phone and shook her head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Connor got kicked out of the church day care today.”

  Well. That explained a few things. “Why?”

  “Bit another child. Third offense. They made me pick him up early.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she whispered.

  Please, please don’t cry. Gage’s knee bounced up and down under the table, and he scrambled for a pragmatic solution to get in front of her impending meltdown. “Can you appeal the decision?”

  “Tried that. The senior pastor just texted me and said the director of the program has the final say.” Skye reached for her phone again. “I really need to find someone who can watch Connor on a consistent basis. Most of the time he still takes two naps, so it’s just a few hours each day—and only until Mom gets some of her mobility back. I’ve called everyone I can think of, though.”

  You haven’t asked me. Gage clamped his mouth shut. What would she say if he offered?

  She frowned, shaking her head as she scrolled some more. “Mom wants me to hire someone to manage the store so I can stay with Connor, but we just don’t have any wiggle room in the budget...” She heaved another sigh. “And I don’t have the heart to tell her about our financial situation right now, on top of everything else she’s dealing with.”

  Her troubled gaze toggled to him. “Sorry to dump all this on you. Probably way more than you wanted to know.”

  Not true. He did want to know because he honestly wanted to help, and although the sheen of moisture in her beautiful blue eyes had subsided, he was going to tread lightly. She seemed guarded—suspicious, even—of his intentions. He really didn’t want to blow his chance at being in Connor’s life, or risk ignoring his pledge to Ryan. And what if word got out of Connor’s situation and someone called social services?

  Adrenaline slammed into him at the mental images that scenario conjured.

  She narrowed her eyes. “What are you thinking?”

  He shifted in his chair. Here goes nothing. “I—I know you’re in a bind, and I totally get that you might have issues with accepting help from strangers—”

  “I do not.”

  Really? Gage silently cocked an eyebrow.

  She ducked her chin. “Okay, maybe a little.”

  “My schedule is flexible until I start the practical portion of my training, and I’d be glad to stay with Connor whenever you need me to.”

  She picked at her thumbnail and avoided his gaze. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  The sound of Connor crying came through the baby monitor resting on the kitchen counter nearby.

  Lousy timing, kiddo. Gage studied her, hoping she wouldn’t use that as an opportune time to escape the conversation.

  “I’d better get him.” Skye’s phone chimed again, and she picked it up, glanced at the screen, then pushed to her feet and hurried down the hallway.

  “Skye—”

  She didn’t turn back, and a minute later, he listened through the monitor as she spoke to Connor and his crying ceased.

  Gage tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. No, he didn’t have any experience with babies. Or children at all, really. His brief stints in and out of temporary foster care placement had left a scar, though, and he couldn’t fathom letting Connor grow up without consistent, stable male role models.

  He smoothed his hand over his close-cropped hair and silently prayed for the words to change Skye’s mind. Ryan was the closest thing to a brother he’d ever had and being a part of Connor’s world was the only way Gage could express his gratitude for the bond they’d shared.

  * * *

  No, no, no. Skye’s fingers trembled as she knelt on the floor beside Connor, trying to keep him from wiggling out of reach while she changed his diaper.

  While Gage’s story about his connection with Ryan seemed legitimate, and the photo he shared lined up with what little McKenna had shared about Connor’s father, was Gage really the solution to her babysitting needs? What if she accepted his offer and he decided it wasn’t for him? He said he was committed to being involved in Connor’s life, but did he even know what that meant? She’d never forgive herself if Connor was hurt because she’d made a hasty decision. The wounds were still raw from the last time she’d allowed herself to be vulnerable. Suffering the consequences of her poor decisions was one thing, but what if her choices impacted an innocent child, too?

  The thought made her stomach churn.

  Out in the living room, she heard the front door open and Mom exchanging greetings with Gage. Connor’s eyes followed her as she tossed the diaper in the trash. She pushed to her feet, eager to get back to the other room before Gage had a chance to woo her mother. Connor sucked loudly on his thumb while she lifted him off the floor. “Let’s get a snack, sweet pea.”

  She strode down the hallway with Connor in her arms. Mom and Gage sat at the table, talking quietly. What had she missed? Fatigue lined Mom’s face, and Skye cringed inwardly. Although she was probably trying to be a good sport and chat with Gage, Mom normally went straight to the couch and elevated her leg after physical therapy.

  “Hi, Mom. How was your appointment?”

  Mom gave her a tired smile and reached over to give Connor’s leg a gentle squeeze. “It was all right. My therapist pushed me hard.”

  “Would you mind holding him while I fix his snack?” Skye hovered near Mom’s shoulder. She hated to ask her to do anything extra, but maybe Connor wouldn’t cry if he snuggled with Mom.

  “For a minute.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m fading fast. Might need a nap before dinner.”

  Connor stretched out his arms and leaned toward Gage.

  “Do you want to hold him?” Skye couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice.

  Gage scooted his chair back. “I’ll try.”

  Connor babbled an unintelligible soun
d and kicked one leg against Skye’s hip, while leaning farther out of her grasp. He wasn’t old enough to use words yet, but she understood his body language. She gently passed him to Gage, acutely aware of the warmth of Gage’s fingers brushing against hers.

  Skye avoided eye contact and moved past him to the kitchen, wishing there was a wall or a cabinet or anything to block her view of Gage, with his powder blue long-sleeve shirt hugging the defined curves of his muscular arms, cautiously holding Connor like he was the most fragile thing in the world. A telltale flutter in her midsection made her deliberately turn away and take her sweet time rummaging in the pantry for a container of the puffed-rice snacks Connor loved.

  That was the last thing she needed—succumbing to the image of this strong, competent man riding in like some fairy-tale hero to rescue the damsel in distress.

  She wasn’t in distress. Okay, maybe she had a little bit going on in her life, but she didn’t need him to rescue her.

  “Gage was just telling me he might be the solution to your child care dilemma,” Mom said, her tone hinting that she was completely on board with the idea.

  The round metal container slipped from Skye’s hands and rolled across the hardwood. Blood pounded in her ears as she chased after it. Gage was watching her—she could feel the weight of those gorgeous hazel eyes tracking her. Did he sense her apprehension?

  She straightened, just in time to catch Connor looking up at Gage, his little hand exploring his face, and his pudgy cheeks scrunched in an adoring smile.

  Oh brother. Don’t tell me you’re captivated, too.

  “We didn’t get a chance to discuss it.”

  Mom shot her a look. “What’s to discuss? You need someone consistent and reliable, with flexibility in their schedule. And I’ll be here to advise Gage on what to do.”

  But what about long-term? What kind of impact would Gage’s role in Connor’s life have? She bit her lip and stole another glance at Connor. He babbled and cooed, his fingers meandering around Gage’s angular jaw. When Gage mimicked a playful bite toward Connor’s hand, the little boy’s belly laugh made Skye’s breath catch.

  Mom caught her staring and arched a brow as if to say, See?

  Skye averted her gaze and poured the rice puffs into a small plastic bowl, then carried it to the table.

  “I know you wanted Connor to spend time with other children, but given his history with biting, and as long as he’s still taking two naps, maybe keeping him here is the best thing for now. Gage can come by for a few hours. Between the two of us, we—”

  “All right.” Exasperated, Skye cut her off. “Point taken.”

  Connor stopped jabbering and stared at her, his lower lip pooched out. Gage and Mom both glanced at her, eyes wide.

  “I’m sorry.” She softened her tone as she set the bowl on the table in front of Gage and Connor. “That sounded harsh.”

  An awkward silence blanketed them, and she returned to the kitchen to put some water in a sippy cup for Connor, her face flaming. Again. She only wanted to do what was best for Connor, but now she felt like the irrational one. How did that happen?

  “I think what Skye is trying to convey is that we weren’t really prepared for any of this,” Mom said. “McKenna has always been wild and impulsive, but she didn’t give us any indication that she planned to leave him. Once she settled in here, she seemed content. But now that she’s gone, we want to make sure we do the right thing. Between caring for Connor, the store and my surgery... This is a lot for us to handle.”

  Skye felt the tension in her shoulders loosen. There. Ditto, she wanted to say, but that sounded ridiculously inadequate. Not to mention childish. Gage probably thought she was a mess.

  “I totally get it.” Gage’s deep voice was filled with empathy. Compassion. “It’s a radical idea, me coming here, claiming a connection to this child and offering to help. I don’t blame you for being skeptical. I’m glad you’re questioning my intentions.”

  This time it was Skye’s turn to stare in disbelief. “You are?”

  “Absolutely. You can’t be too careful.” Gage shifted Connor to the crook of his opposite arm. “Let me assure you, again, that I want what’s best for my friend’s son, too.”

  “Of course you do.” Her mother reached over and patted his hand. “I’m going to leave you two to iron out the details. I’m beat.”

  While Mom stood and slowly worked her way down the hall toward her bedroom, Skye tried to offer Connor the sippy cup, but he pushed her hand away and reached for more of his snack. She sighed and left the cup on the table before circling around to her chair and the calendar she’d abandoned earlier. “Aunt Linda just texted me and said she’d help in a pinch, so I have the next few days covered. How soon can you start?”

  “How about next week?”

  She hesitated, then picked up her pencil. “Sure, next week is...fine. Is one to five in the afternoon okay?”

  “Sounds great.”

  She wrote his name and the time on the calendar. “And how about after that?”

  “How far out would you like to schedule?”

  Her stomach churned as her pencil hovered over the calendar. Were they really doing this? Had she just agreed to let Gage watch Connor as often as he wanted? “H-how about Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday afternoons from one to five for now?”

  “Perfect.” She heard the smile in his voice and dragged her gaze to meet his. She wasn’t at all prepared for the gratitude she’d find in those gold-flecked eyes.

  “Thank you for giving me a chance to honor my word.” His voice was gritty, emotional this time. “I won’t let you down.”

  “Good.” Uncertainty still weighed heavily as she quickly looked away and wrote his name on the dates they’d agreed on. A chance to honor his word? Yes. Not a permanent place in their lives, though. Sure, he’d looked super attractive holding Connor safely in his arms, but clearly it had muddled her thinking. No matter how much Gage’s attentiveness toward Connor tugged at her heartstrings, she had to maintain firm boundaries. Strong men like Gage only used their power to control women, and she wouldn’t allow herself to fall for him.

  Chapter Four

  Gage quickly anchored the metal carabiners of his harness straps to the safety rails along the platform’s perimeter, then stood up. Cold air filled his lungs and he pivoted slowly, admiring the snow-covered wheat fields checkering the landscape in every direction. Despite the additional weight of his equipment, the view from the top of the wind turbine was worth the effort. A brilliant blue sky—a particular shade he’d heard was unique to Colorado—stretched overhead, and the late-afternoon sun made the moisture on the giant white blades glisten.

  “Not a bad first climb, right?” Dane, one of his new partners for today’s orientation, glanced back over his shoulder and grinned, arms stretched wide.

  “Can’t complain.” Gage couldn’t manage much more than a two-word reply. While he’d thought he’d maintained his physical fitness since he left the navy, his aching muscles protested from the three-hundred-foot climb. Clearly, he still had some work to do in the gym.

  “Let’s check on this beacon.” Max, their team leader, summoned them to the red light nearby that was supposed to blink constantly, alerting approaching aircraft.

  Gage complied, taking tentative steps toward Max. He might’ve spent weeks at sea living in a submarine in the depths of the ocean, but wearing a harness tethered to a tower in the middle of miles of farmland made his mouth dry and legs jittery. The height didn’t seem to be the problem. He’d always loved the advantage of seeing the world from this perspective. Maybe it was the apprehension of working with a partner again that had his insides twisted in knots. Squashing thoughts of Ryan, he slowed his breathing and followed Max’s and Dane’s instructions. At least they were working in a team of three. Safety in numbers, right?

  “The first day’s a
lways a tough one. Relax.” Max offered Gage a reassuring smile. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

  “Hope so.” Did his lack of confidence seem that obvious? He hadn’t had any trouble with his online courses, and he’d assumed starting the hands-on training would be less demanding than anything he’d experienced in the military. But after spending several hours with Max and Dane examining the interior portions of the turbine, his head felt like it was going to explode. The biting wind buffeting them, combined with the odd sensation of his harness and straps shadowing his every move, brought a whole new meaning to the phrase on-the-job training.

  “This is a straightforward repair.” Dane handed Max the new lightbulb. “We’ll have this changed out in no time.”

  Gage squatted beside them and focused on Max’s careful instruction, trying to memorize all the details he and Dane noted. An hour later, they had the new bulb installed, the cover in place and their tools packed up.

  “Let’s go, boys. It’s quitting time.” Max led the way toward the hatch.

  They unlatched from the rail, then lowered themselves through the narrow opening and reconnected their harnesses to the pulley system inside the tower. Dane started the descent first, followed by Gage, while Max went last to make sure the hatch was closed properly.

  Gage’s heavy boots squeaked on the rungs and sweat trickled along his spine as he climbed down the ladder. Why wasn’t this easier than going up? Dane and Max bantered back and forth, their words echoing off the walls of the tower. Gage trained his gaze on the next rung and kept quiet.

  A few blessed minutes later, his feet touched the solid concrete floor.

  “Well done.” Max clapped him on the shoulder. “Let’s celebrate your first trip to the top with the boys over at Angie’s. They’ve got a Friday night special that’s hard to beat. What do you think?”

  Gage hesitated.

  “C’mon, man,” Dane urged. “It’s like a rite of passage for all the trainees.”