Laurel accepted the towel from Wes and quickly wiped her hands. “Now where’s that baby?”
A smiling Sarah-Jane practically threw herself into Laurel’s arms. Yet as Wes took a seat in one of the four dining chairs, her daughter squirmed to get down.
“Okay, fine.” No sooner had she set Sarah-Jane on the floor than she took off toward Wes and pulled up on his legs.
“Well, hello there.” He picked her up, his face lighting with amusement.
That left Laurel in a quandary. She’d always regretted not having a father and hated that Sarah-Jane was facing that same fate. But seeing her little girl in Wes’s arms brought out Laurel’s instinct to protect. Could Wes be trusted? Sure, he was Rae’s brother, not to mention former military...
“Shall we go play?” Still holding her daughter, Wes stood and went into the living room where Sarah-Jane’s toys were.
Okay, so Laurel wasn’t concerned about her daughter’s physical safety, but there were plenty of other things to worry about. Such as betrayal. What if Wes decided he didn’t want to be involved in his daughter’s life? Simply paying child support did not make someone a parent. What if he walked away like Laurel’s father had? Did she even want him around Sarah-Jane until she had the answers to those questions?
Rae nudged her elbow and pointed to Wes and Sarah-Jane. “I think that’s about the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Wes lay on the floor, grinning at Sarah-Jane, while she sat atop his belly, laughing as though she’d conquered a mountain.
The sight was, indeed, heartwarming, and one Laurel had longed for all her life. Yet from where she stood now, it was also one of the scariest.
* * *
“Two weeks?” Phone pressed against his ear just after nine the next morning, Wes paced Irma’s front porch, his frustration mounting. It had been bad enough that the other four pest-control companies he’d contacted had said a week to ten days. But two weeks? He didn’t have that kind of time. Yet even after he’d explained the situation, they all acted as though coming to Bliss was the equivalent of going to another country. “Sorry, that’s not going to work. Thank you.”
Ending the call, he dropped into one of two rocking chairs that had been relegated to a corner because of the bathtub. He’d made a commitment to Irma, but now it didn’t look as though he’d be able to see it through. He couldn’t add the new floor joists until the remaining wood had been treated for termites. And without those joists, everything else was at a standstill, which left him with just a little more than a week to do the remainder of the work. Even if he managed to get some of the downstairs squared away beforehand, he still wasn’t likely to finish the job.
Not that he considered it a job. On the contrary, he’d been in his element yesterday as he, Laurel and the folks from church worked to empty Irma’s house. Serving others was what Wes was created to do, and it felt good to be working with a purpose again. And that was precisely why he’d signed on with Servant’s Heart to go to Iraq. Working simply for a paycheck didn’t really suit him, but knowing that he was helping someone, making a difference in their lives... That’s what drove him.
Except now it looked as though he wasn’t going to be able to help Irma, after all. And if he didn’t, who would? Sure, Mason would probably be more than willing to swoop in and do the job, but at what cost to Irma?
With a sigh, Wes slumped back in the chair and watched a pair of cardinals making their way around the sun-speckled front yard, flitting from one tree or bush to another in search of twigs and other nest-building materials. Lord, did I misunderstand You? All that prompting yesterday. The rationalizing. Perhaps Wes wasn’t supposed to be the one to help Irma.
The sound of a vehicle pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see Laurel’s SUV easing alongside the curb. He might as well tell her the bad news. Perhaps she would know of someone other than Mason who could take over.
After exiting her vehicle, she started up the walk. Her hair was pulled back in a long ponytail, and she looked ready to work in a pair of faded jeans and a Dallas Cowboys T-shirt. A moment later, she spotted him, and her gaze instantly narrowed.
Strange to think that two years ago, Laurel had trusted him and they’d connected as though they’d known each other for years. But last night, when he was playing with Sarah-Jane, he’d seen nothing but distrust in her eyes. Then again, he couldn’t say that he blamed her. They were, for the most part, strangers. And she had Sarah-Jane to think about. He’d hoped to prove her wrong, to win at least a morsel of her trust. However, this latest development hadn’t done him any favors.
“What’s wrong?” She moved slowly up the steps.
“I’ve hit a snag.”
Her eyes went wide. “What? Did something else happen inside the house?” She took a step toward the door.
“The house is fine,” he said. “Well, not fine, but unchanged.” He rested his hands on his hips. “It looks as though I’m not going to be able to do the work for Irma after all.”
Her gray-green gaze searched his. “Why? What’s the problem?”
He blew out a sigh. “I’ve called five pest-control companies, and the earliest any of them can get out here is late next week. And, unfortunately, any work on that bathroom hinges on getting the remaining wood treated for termites.”
“Who all have you called?”
He listed the names, her face contorting more with each one.
“Why would you call them?” She looked at him as though he’d lost his mind.
“Because that’s what came up when I did a search for pest control in Bliss, Texas.”
“I thought finding a termite person was something you wanted me to help you with. Those folks may be near Bliss, but they’re not in Bliss.” She pulled her phone from her back pocket. “You need to call Frank Wurzbach.”
“Who’s he?”
She looked intently at her phone. “Town councilman, who also happens to own Wurzbach Pest Control.”
“I saw the name in my search, but they didn’t have a website, so I skipped it. Is he any good?”
Glancing up at him, she frowned. “Wes, Bliss may be small, and a lot of people are old-school, but don’t be so quick to discount them. What we lack in quantity, we make up for in quality.” Sounded like something his sister would have said.
“Do you have his number?”
Laurel again focused on her phone. “I’ve got it here somewhere.” A couple of finger taps later, she said, “There. I just sent it to you.” She tucked her phone away as his vibrated in his hand.
“Thanks.”
“Be sure to tell Frank you’re working on Irma’s house. I guarantee that’ll get him out here right away.”
“Well, we need to let the wood dry over the weekend, but that’s good to know.” He logged the number into his contacts. “So, what are you doing here?”
She poked a thumb over her shoulder in the general direction of the front door. “I need to check on those books and other things the ladies and I set out to dry last night.”
“Where’s Sarah-Jane?”
“Irma and Joyce are watching her.”
The thought of two elderly ladies caring for an active infant who happened to be his daughter made him uneasy. “Where?”
“At Joyce’s house.”
“Wouldn’t it have been better for them to come to your place?”
“Perhaps. But I didn’t want to inconvenience them. Besides, Joyce has a little dog, and Sarah-Jane loves dogs.”
Maybe so, but some dogs weren’t too fond of little kids. “Do you think she’ll be okay with them?”
“Why wouldn’t she be?” Exasperation wove its way through her words. “The two of them will probably dote on her so much she might never want to come home. And just for the record, if I thought she was in any danger, I wouldn’t have taken her over there in the
first place.”
“But what if Sarah-Jane wears them out?”
“Then I guess they won’t offer again, will they?” Nostrils flared, she turned and pushed through the front door, where the roar of the air movers drowned out everything else.
That didn’t stop him, though. He followed her into the parlor, the smell of old house circling around him as he stepped in front of her. “Why are you so upset with me?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the incessant rumble. “You act as though it’s a crime for me to be concerned about my daughter.”
“I have no problem with your concern for Sarah-Jane,” she countered. “But what I don’t appreciate is you coming in here and questioning my judgment. I’ve been taking care of Sarah-Jane since the day she was born—quite well, I might add—with no help from you, thank you very much.”
“And whose fault is that?” As soon as the words left Wes’s mouth, he wished he could take them back. And the tears that sprang to Laurel’s eyes didn’t help.
Frustrated, he strode into the entry hall and turned off the blower in there before continuing into the family room and doing the same with the three in there. On his way back, he went into the bedroom and killed the two units that were drying the carpet.
Surrounded by virtual silence, save for the blowers upstairs and the sound of his boots against the wooden floorboards, he crossed to where Laurel still stood, feeling like a major jerk. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. I know you had no way to get in touch with me. And I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. You’re a good mother. I know you would never put Sarah-Jane in any kind of danger.”
Arms wrapped tightly around her middle, she nodded without ever looking at him. “We both have work to do.” With that, she continued into the dining room, leaving Wes to wonder if he’d just dug himself a hole he might not be able to climb out of.
Chapter Six
The stress of the last two days had finally caught up to Laurel. Wes’s sudden appearance had her drifting into uncharted waters. And for a moment today, she’d felt as though she might drown.
She couldn’t blame Wes, though, not when she’d thrown the first punch. Yet while he’d been quick to apologize, she had yet to say a word. Even now, as she was ready to leave Irma’s, she wasn’t sure she could muster the courage to say she was sorry.
Despite the incessant droning of the fans threatening to drive her crazy, her steps halted as she approached the front door just after noon. Wes was on the other side. He’d informed her half an hour ago that he was going out there to make some phone calls. Perhaps he’d be on the phone now, allowing her to simply wave as she escaped to her vehicle.
Unfortunately, when she opened the door, he was standing on the other side.
His blue eyes seemed fixed on her as he stepped aside, allowing her to join him.
“I, uh, I’m going to head out.” She somehow managed to move the words past her suddenly tight throat. “I need to get Sarah-Jane down for a nap.” And maybe even grab one herself. Except she had work to catch up on. As a CPA who specialized in working with ex-pats, she prided herself on addressing their needs in a timely manner. And after being out of the office all day yesterday, there were things that required her attention.
“Yeah, I’m going to cut out shortly myself.” His voice sounded strained, as though he was uneasy. “By the way, I called Frank, and he’ll be out here on Monday.”
“Oh, that’s good.” She nodded repeatedly, probably looking like a bobblehead doll.
“Yeah. So it looks like I’ll be able to do the work after all.”
“That’s great.” Actually, it really was, because the busier he stayed, the less time Laurel would have to spend with him.
But what about Sarah-Jane?
“Would, uh, would you mind if I stopped by to see Sarah-Jane later? After her nap.”
“I don’t know.” Conflicted, she shifted from one sneaker-covered foot to the next, watching the leaves on a large oak tree sway in the breeze. “I was really hoping to make it an early night.”
“Me, too. Yesterday kind of wore us out. However, I’d still like to see her. I’ve only got a couple more weeks, and I’d like to use them to get to know my daughter.”
Her gaze jerked to his. My daughter. He wielded those two words as if they’d gain him access. Not that she would deny her daughter a relationship with her father. But that relationship was still in its infancy, and Laurel wanted to make sure Wes was in it for the long haul before she gave him carte blanche.
“I’ll even bring dinner,” he added.
All right, now he was playing dirty. Because the mere thought of planning, let alone preparing, a meal sucked what little life was left right out of her. “What did you have in mind?”
“Rae says there’s a burger joint around here that’s hard to beat.”
Bubba’s. Laurel’s mouth watered, and her stomach growled just thinking about it. Wes did not play fair.
With a fortifying breath, or, perhaps, one of resignation, she said, “In that case, I’ll take a loaded cheeseburger with a large fry and a chocolate milkshake.”
“And Sarah-Jane?”
“Chicken nuggets, of course.”
His smile was genuine as she strode off the porch, headed for her SUV. “All right, then I’ll see you around five thirty?”
“Sounds good.” Or at least the meal did, anyway.
When she picked up Sarah-Jane, Irma and Joyce gushed about what a good baby she was and how much they’d enjoyed spending time with her. But Sarah-Jane’s good mood was quickly coming to an end. After being up later than her usual eight o’clock bedtime last night, she was more than ready for a nap and fell asleep on the way home.
Over the next two hours, Laurel managed to distract herself with work, emailing a couple of clients and following up on an outstanding case with the IRS. Then, after Sarah-Jane had awoken, the two of them played and Laurel did a load of laundry, all the while pondering the things she’d like to tackle at Irma’s. While picking up Sarah-Jane, Laurel had mentioned to Irma that Wes was hoping they could salvage the carpet in the bedroom. However, Irma had quickly told her to instruct him not to bother, because she hated the ugly brown stuff. And that got Laurel to thinking. Maybe there were other cosmetic things that could be done to refresh some of the spaces impacted by the collapse.
Those thoughts seemed to fade away as five thirty drew nearer, though, replaced by a whole lot of angst. How could she spend the evening with Wes with her spiteful words still hanging between them? Conflict was not something she relished. She was an only child, for crying out loud. She’d had no siblings to argue with. Or, more to the point, to make up with. How did she tell Wes she was sorry?
Pride goeth before the fall.
Pride? Was that really her problem?
Only where Wes was concerned.
Laurel prided herself on being a good mother to Sarah-Jane. So, when he’d started questioning her about leaving her daughter with Irma and Joyce, ladies Laurel trusted, she’d lashed out, wanting to discount him the way she thought he was doing to her. Now she was left with the bitter taste of regret. And that was not going to go well with her Bubba burger.
She had just finished changing Sarah-Jane’s diaper when someone knocked on the door. Checking her watch, she noted that Wes was right on time. Another trait that had carried over from his military career, no doubt.
“Are you ready for some dinner, baby?” She held Sarah-Jane in one arm while she opened the door with the other.
Wes clutched a white paper bag in one hand and a drink carrier in the other, his face lighting up when he saw Sarah-Jane. “There’s my favorite girl.” He pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek as he entered. “I hope you two are ready to eat—” he continued into the kitchen “—because the smells coming from this bag are making my stomach grumble.”
Laurel set a w
iggling Sarah-Jane on the floor before closing the door. “We sure are.”
After setting the food on the rustic wooden table, Wes intercepted a speed-crawling Sarah-Jane at the opening between the living room and dining space. “Let’s get you in your high chair.”
Laurel watched him slip the child into her seat and carefully strap her in. Like her, all Wes wanted was what was best for Sarah-Jane. How could Laurel fault him for that?
While he finished up, Laurel emptied the contents of the bag onto the table. She popped a fry into her mouth before breaking up another and setting it on Sarah-Jane’s tray.
“What about me?” Wes looked at her expectantly. “I think I have some fries in there, too.”
Puffing out a laugh, Laurel grabbed another fry and handed it to him.
“Thank you.” He popped it into his mouth, his playful gaze never leaving hers, reminding her of the man she’d met two years ago. The one who made her laugh and whose company she truly enjoyed.
With him standing close enough for her to smell the clean aroma of his soap, she stared at her hands. “Earlier today, at Irma’s, I said things to you that I shouldn’t have.” She looked up at him. “I’m sorry. I had no right to accuse you of something you had no control over.”
“It’s all right. I think tensions were rather high for both of us this morning. I was frustrated, and you were worn out from yesterday.”
“You don’t have to make excuses for me. I’m big enough to admit that I was wrong.” She lifted a shoulder. “Eventually, anyway.”
“If I say you’re forgiven, can we eat?”
She shook her head. “No, I’ll probably eat regardless.”
“Good, because there’s nothing to forgive.” He pulled out a white chair and sat down beside Sarah-Jane.
Moving to the other side of their daughter, Laurel took a seat, watching the man who seemed to truly want to be a part of his daughter’s life. Yet there was one thing she couldn’t seem to forget.
A Father's Promise Page 6
