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A Family for a Week

Page 9

by Melissa Senate


  He wanted the best for Sadie and therefore, he’d keep his hands and lips to himself. Not that she’d invited him to kiss her a second time. She’d made herself crystal clear. She knew what she wanted just as he knew what he didn’t want.

  He would walk the five miles from his ranch here to sit in her station and have tacos just to see her because she was so busy, he heard Manuela say in his head. And he never showed up without either flowers or candy. Your mom was a jelly bean addict.

  When Axel and his brothers were young, the three would pool their money on Mother’s Day and their mom’s birthday and buy Diana Dawson two pounds of jelly beans from the loose candy bins at the general store, trying to avoid the black licorice ones that she hated. They’d each take turns filling the bag and then the lady at the counter would always add a red ribbon and make a bow, and they were always so proud to hand their mom her gift. She always shared, too.

  While your parents were dating, I remember thinking, now that is a man in love...

  Oh hell, he thought, getting up and going over to his dresser. He sucked in a breath and opened the sock drawer and pulled out the letter from his father.

  He sat on his bed and opened it. Finally. After almost nine months.

  He pulled out one sheet of plain white paper. Four addresses were scrawled on it in Bo Dawson’s handwriting. Just addresses—all local to Bear Ridge. None he recognized as remotely familiar. The first was on Main Street. He grabbed his phone and did a search for the address—Manuela’s Mexican Café.

  Huh. The universe had a funny way of getting someone’s attention. He’d never stepped foot in Manuela’s until tonight for the very reason it was listed on the paper—it had been his father’s hangout. But he’d gone because Sadie had wanted Mexican, and he’d thought he was being ridiculous for avoiding a place just because his late father frequented it.

  And he’d ended up learning quite a bit about his parents.

  Then had been propelled to finally open the letter from his dad.

  He stared at the addresses. So what was this? Bo sending him on some kind of tour of his life? Seemed like it, given what he’d discovered about the first address on the list.

  The other three addresses were scattered across the town.

  I don’t know that I want any more information, he thought.

  A memory started to form in his head and he tried to push it away, getting up and dropping the letter on the bed and heading for the window. He looked out over the vast field and trees as it hit him, the night he’d tried so hard not to think about. The universe had sent him to Manuela’s tonight. The universe had gotten him to open up the letter. Maybe he was supposed to be thinking of the last time he saw his dad. Even if it crushed him. Talk about stealing the air from his lungs.

  One cold December late afternoon, Axel had stopped by the ranch on the way back from training the newbies from the S&R team on easy Clover Mountain. He planned to talk to his dad about rehab. He’d tried a few times before and had gotten nowhere, but Axel had heard from Daisy that she’d been talking to Bo on the phone and he’d been slurring his words, then started snoring. Nice talking to you, Dad.

  Axel had been researching local rehab facilities and found one that could take Bo that weekend. As he’d pulled up in the drive to the main house, Bo was zigzagging to his truck, which had one caved-in bumper and a lot of new dents. His father was clearly drunk, and Axel had grabbed Bo’s keys and refused to hand them over. His father had cursed up a storm, then taken a swing at Axel and fallen flat on his face, passed out cold.

  Axel had carried him into the house, no easy feat, got him on the couch, took off his boots and covered him with a blanket. Then Axel had burst into tears.

  The crying had helped actually, releasing all that pent-up frustration and anguish and powerlessness. He had no doubt that in the morning, Bo would be up to the same old tricks. Axel had called Noah, who lived second closest to the dilapidated ranch at the time, and told him what happened, and Noah said he’d stop by in the morning and try to talk some sense into Bo. Axel had left and vowed never to return; enough was enough.

  That was six days before Bo Dawson died.

  Pain clenched at his gut, and he gripped the windowsill, trying to put it all out of his mind, but he couldn’t. Noah had reported that their dad had given a repeat performance the next afternoon, down to the punch and passing out, this time in a snowbank in the yard. They’d even gotten their police officer brother involved, Ford coming all the way from Casper in uniform since their father respected any kind of service, whether military or law enforcement or janitorial. Bo hadn’t been drunk enough to dare punch a police officer, even his own son, but he’d ordered Ford off his property if he “was going to be a damned killjoy.” Ford had let Axel and Noah know the man just wouldn’t listen to reason and they couldn’t force him into rehab.

  The thing that got Axel most? That Bo had obviously known he was dying—the letters he’d left to all six kids made that clear. He’d wanted to go out his way, Axel supposed. And he had.

  “Mama? Mama?” a little voice called out.

  Axel practically jumped in his dark room. Danny. He went into the hallway, saw no sign of Sadie, so he poked his head into the nursery. Danny was standing up in the crib, holding Zul. The little guy stared at Axel in the dim lighting from the night-light, then popped his arms in the air like he had earlier.

  “Can’t sleep, huh, buddy?” Axel asked, walking over. “Me neither. Not that I’ve tried.”

  Well, he needed a distraction and this was one hell of a distraction.

  “How about another story about your superhero lion?” Axel asked, putting Danny on his lap. The boy immediately settled against his chest, his eyes heavy. He’d be out in about half a minute. “Once upon a time there was a lion named Zul. One day, Zul woke up in the middle of the night, unable to sleep. He wanted someone to tell him a story, but everyone else was sleeping. So he decided to tell himself a story. He crawled into his bed, pulled the covers to his chin and told himself about the time he saved a little duckling named George from a fast-moving current in the creek. Before he knew it—”

  Axel felt Danny’s head press more heavily against the crook of his arm, and he looked down. Bingo: fast asleep. Fourteen seconds. That had to be a record.

  “Thanks,” he heard Sadie whisper.

  He looked up and there she was in the doorway with a sweet smile on her beautiful face. She was barefoot and wore pink sweatpants and a white tank top and looked unbelievably sexy.

  “I’ll take him to his crib,” he said, standing up.

  “You’re a natural, Axel Dawson. Shame about you not wanting kids of your own.” Her eyes widened. “Oh, God, who am I—my mother? I’m really sorry. I had no business saying something like that. People have a right to their feelings without anyone else butting in with their one cent.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t shortchange yourself,” he said and then shut up before he elaborated about how she had this ability to get him talking and thinking and doing things he wouldn’t have otherwise. He’d thought it was the universe’s mysterious ways getting him to open the letter.

  No. It was the talk he and Sadie had had in the restaurant.

  “I’m good with little kids because I had practice,” he said, wondering why he was going there. But then he blurted out, “I was seriously involved with a single mother with a baby girl who I was very attached to, and when it was over, I doubled down on my old ways of looking for only casual relationships. So between helping take care of that baby and helping out with my niece and nephews, I’ve got a ton of experience with the diaper crowd.”

  “Sorry about the heartache. I know how that goes. And thanks to my great-gram, I know you know I do.”

  He smiled. “They’re a great family. You’re lucky.”

  “Well, I’ve only met two of your five siblings, but I’d say you’re dar
n lucky yourself.”

  “That is true,” he agreed. “I lucked out in that department, at least.”

  He moved closer to her—to leave the room so that Danny could sleep in peace, but she was right there, in the doorway, and suddenly they were kissing again. She’d made the first move and he’d made the second and now they were in the hallway against the wall about to knock over the watercolor of rushing rapids. Now he knew where that part of the Zul story had come from.

  “Why can’t I keep my hands off you?” she whispered against his lips, pressed up tantalizingly against him.

  “Feel free not to,” he said, then regretted it. Even if he was attracted to her on a bunch of levels—okay, all—he wasn’t getting emotionally attached.

  She seemed to sense his withdrawal despite his not moving a muscle. “Maybe we should save the making out for when my family is around,” she said, and he heard the element of disappointment in her voice. He was getting to know her a little too well. “You know, to make the engagement seem real. We were supposed to talk about that and never did. But now I’m zonked,” she said, fake-yawning again and backing toward her room. “So, see you in the morning.”

  She hurried down the hall, and her door closed a second later.

  He could knock and they could talk, really talk. But his feet were suddenly weighted to the floor, and Sadie had fled for a reason. He should let her be.

  Wasn’t getting emotionally attached. Even he knew when he was full of it.

  Chapter Eight

  When Sadie woke up the next morning and eyed the time on her phone, she was surprised it was past seven. Danny’s middle-of-the-night story must have had him sleep in. She went into the nursery but the crib was empty, which meant only one thing—

  “We’re making pancakes,” called Axel’s voice. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

  Toddler laughter. “Mama sleephead. Hahahahahaha.”

  She smiled, that sound her favorite of every sound in the world.

  “I’ve got him, so feel free to take your time,” Axel called up. “I’m not expected at work until nine for a wilderness tour.”

  “’K, thanks,” she called out.

  “Mama, sleephead!” Danny shouted with glee.

  “Well, she’s awake now!” Axel said and it was apparently very funny because Danny started laughing again.

  “Should we put blueberries in our pancakes?” Axel asked. “Or have them on the side? So many questions!”

  “In, in!” Danny said.

  Sadie stood at the base of the stairs, smiling and wanting to cry at the same time. This was what life would be like if Danny had a daddy—the right daddy. One who’d get up early with him. Make him a good breakfast. Make him laugh.

  This is what I want for my son, she knew more than she knew anything else. And the man being the “right daddy” this morning wasn’t available for the permanent position. He was a temp. This week only.

  As Sadie passed the watercolor of the rushing rapids on her way to the guest room, she remembered her shoulder tipping it askew, Axel’s tall, strong, warm body against hers on the wall, his hands on her shoulders, her neck as he kissed her. She’d practically flung herself at him—not even practically. She had. Seeing him in the rocker, taking care of Danny in the middle of the night, telling him that story. She’d been overcome, and added to how attracted she was to him, she’d let impulse win.

  You’ve got to stop that, she told herself as she went into the bathroom with the toiletry bag her mother had packed for her and took a shower, grateful for the excellent water pressure on her tense muscles. Axel had everything in here a guest could need, including a hair dryer. Once in her room, she got dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, then texted her mom to see how Gram and Great-Gram were doing. Her mother ruled against visiting so she wouldn’t get Danny or Axel sick and thought they’d be much better by tomorrow.

  Downstairs, she found Danny in a high chair near the table. Axel had made smiley face blueberry pancakes. The mouth was strawberry slices.

  “Hi, sleephead!” Danny said and laughed again.

  “Hi, precious,” Sadie responded, kissing Danny on the head. “Mmm, your breakfast looks delicious.”

  “And here is yours, milady,” Axel said, putting a plate on the table. Three pancakes. A side of blueberries and strawberries. Syrup, butter, orange juice and cream and sugar were in the center, and then he set down a steaming mug of coffee.

  Everyone needed an Axel. The man really was a superhero.

  “Noah texted,” he said. “Turns out Daisy needs help with something at her house, so I’ll see you two later.” He gave Danny’s hair a ruffle.

  “Bye, Zul!” Danny said, waving his pancake-laden fork in the air.

  Axel smiled. “See you later, buddy.” He turned toward Sadie. “I don’t know what time I’ll be back, but make yourself at home, come and go as you please.”

  Her heart pinged. “Thanks for everything, Axel.”

  He nodded and then was gone.

  “I like Zul,” Danny said, picking up his sippy cup.

  “Me, too,” she said. “Me, too.”

  * * *

  Turned out a bird had somehow gotten into Daisy’s house over an hour ago and she needed help shooing it out. Her husband, Harrison, was on a business trip for the next few days, and though Noah and Sara lived just down the path in the foreman’s cabin, they were already out dealing with feed deliveries, so Axel was now bird shooer.

  “Where’s Tony?” Axel asked, glancing around for his three-month-old nephew.

  “He’s napping upstairs in his crib. Good timing, too, because I can just imagine the bird pooping on his head. It’s been that kind of day and it’s not even eight a.m.”

  Whoosh!

  There the little bird went, flying not too far overhead. It was brown, gray and white and flying around Daisy’s living room. She’d opened the sliding glass doors and all the windows but birdie seemed to prefer flying against the walls instead of into freedom.

  “I summon all the powers of Zul to mind-trick this bird out the side door!” Axel said in his best Darth Vader voice.

  “Um, who?” Daisy asked, staring at him as if he’d grown another head.

  “Zul. Danny’s superhero lion,” he said.

  Daisy’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God. You’re falling for Sadie and you adore that kid!”

  “What? I’m trying to get the bird out of your house.”

  Daisy raised an eyebrow. “Yes, by calling on the imaginary powers of a two-year-old’s stuffed lovey. Oh, Axel. You’re a goner.”

  He frowned at his sister, who he’d never told about Lizzie, and followed the bird with his gaze. Now it was flying along the ceiling. “We’re talking about me, remember? Or have you forgotten I’m the guy who actually caused his blind date to go running out of your dinner party.”

  He felt bad about that one. A few months ago, Daisy had slyly set him up with the woman who used to lead wilderness tours for the ranch, and he’d been wound so tight in those days that he’d gotten into an argument with Daisy’s husband—who’d been the family’s enemy back then—and the date had fled. She’d also quit not long after, taking a job with his old S&R team. That had worked out well, since he’d taken over as wilderness tour leader and safety director for the ranch.

  Whoosh! Whoosh-whoosh!

  Ah—birdie flew out the sliding glass door.

  “Phew,” Daisy said, hurrying to close the windows and the doors. She turned toward him. “Axel Dawson, you can say whatever you want. Actions speak louder.”

  She had him there. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you that Sadie and Danny are staying with me for a couple of days. Her grandmother and great-grandmother have bad colds, so Sadie’s mom is taking care of them at their cabin and sent her daughters to their fiancés.”

  Daisy grinned. “Oh, what a tangled
web—wonderfully tangled!”

  “I don’t know how wonderful it is, Daize. First off, it is deception. Second, yeah, I do have feelings for Sadie, and, of course, I feel close to her son—Dude and I found him when he was missing. But I’m not looking for a relationship. I don’t want a relationship.”

  “Why do you think you can control that?” she asked, shaking her head.

  Be the boss of yourself, he heard the mountain man say. Rule your emotions instead of letting them rule you.

  Now that he thought about it, though, Axel realized he was hardly the boss of his emotions. “I’m not pronouncing it out of nowhere—it’s just how I feel, Daisy.”

  “Exactly. Because the heart is mightier than the head. Just accept it.”

  Okay, now he was confused. “What I’ll accept is a cup of coffee,” he said. “The chocolaty-hazelnut kind you gave me the other day, if you still have some.”

  She narrowed her blue eyes on him. “Changing the subject, I see. And yes, I always have chocolate-hazelnut.”

  He followed her to the big country kitchen, and Axel leaned against the counter. “I opened my letter from Dad.”

  Daisy gasped and turned to him. “Um, Axel, you could have led with that. What did it say?”

  “It actually didn’t say anything. Just a piece of paper with four Bear Ridge addresses. That’s it. No explanations, no annotations.”

  She added the coffee grounds into the filter and hit Brew. “Really? Recognize any of them?”

  “Turns out, completely by coincidence, I went to one last night.” He explained about the grandmother and great-grandmother ambushing him into taking his fiancée out to dinner. “I walked in the door of Manuela’s Mexican Café, and the owner took one look at me and knew I had to be Bo Dawson’s son. She told me that’s where he met my mom—when she was a waitress there.”

  “Wow,” Daisy said. She poured his coffee, added cream and two teaspoons of sugar and handed the mug to him.

 

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