Baby In His Cradle

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Baby In His Cradle Page 21

by Diana Whitney


  “Drake was here.”

  “Here? At the hospital.”

  “He was walking, Ellie, upright and on his own two feet.”

  “Oh, Samuel.” A breath, a thankful smile at his reflected pride. “That’s wonderful.”

  The smile faded, the pride dimmed. “I should have been there for him, but I wasn’t. He had to go through it alone because I couldn’t face him, couldn’t face what I’d done.”

  “He doesn’t blame you, Samuel.”

  “No, he doesn’t.” His brow quirked. “But how could you know that?”

  “Wild guess.” Heaving a contented sigh, she nested her head in the curve of his throat. “I guess we’re more alike than either of us would like to believe.”

  “Not really. I sing a lot better than you.”

  “Heck, Baloo sings better than me.” She chuckled. “You, on the other hand, have absolutely no snowman-sculpting ability.”

  “Ah, but I do weave a mean cradle.”

  “Yes,” she whispered fondly. “You certainly do.”

  Samuel stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head. “Do you remember what you said to me at the airport?” He paused, waited for her affirmative nod. “I just wanted you to know that I, er, I do, too. Love you, that is.”

  Ellie’s heart thumped. “I know.”

  They sat there for several long moments, embraced in love profound enough that it need not be spoken, then Ellie withdrew, smiling. “Would you like to meet Marjorie now?”

  Samuel frowned just a little. “I’d like to see Daniel.”

  “I know that, too.”

  His frown eased. “You know just about everything, don’t you.”

  “Of course. Haven’t you learned that by now?” A giggle of pure happiness bubbled from her throat. Samuel loved her. She’d always known it, always felt it, but now it seemed more tangible somehow, as if she could reach out and cup it in her palm. “First I think we’d better get those pants off and get you tucked into bed.” She reached for his fly.

  He pushed her hand away. “I don’t want to take my pants off.”

  “Tough. The pants are history, bud. Either I do it, or Nurse Attila does it. Up to you.”

  It took less than a minute for him to decide.

  Daniel’s burp was manly and satisfying. His head bobbled against Ellie’s shoulder, tiny body twisting as he gazed up at his mother’s smiling face. He focused on her, gave a baby grin and uttered something that sounded like, “Ooghmum.”

  Ellie chuckled, pressed a kiss to his silky, fuzzcovered scalp. “I love you, too, snookie-wookie.”

  In the hospital bed, Samuel shifted against the pillows, reached out to tickle between the baby’s shoulder blades. “Kid’s got an appetite like a linebacker.” His gaze clouded, withdrew.

  Pulling up a chair, Ellie nestled her son in the crook of one arm, used her free hand to massage the yellowing IV bruise on Samuel’s wrist. “You’re thinking about Marjorie, aren’t you?”

  He turned his hand, laced his fingers with hers. “She shouldn’t be alone this afternoon. Making arrangements is difficult enough, and when she was here she seemed so... I don’t know. Vulnerable, I guess.”

  She understood what he meant. Marjorie had spent less than thirty minutes in the hospital room, but it had been long enough for Samuel to see the grief in her eyes and the regret. “Marjorie won’t be alone. Her brother will be with her.”

  “What about later, when she returns to her own home?”

  “I’ll be there.” Ellie avoided his gaze. “It only makes sense. I have nowhere to stay at the moment, and Marjorie doesn’t want to be alone.” When he made no comment, she glanced away to study a peculiar fold in the bedclothes. “When visiting hours are over, Daniel and I will take a cab to Marjorie’s place, and spend a few nights with her. Just until she’s feeling better.”

  Samuel tightened his grip on her hand. “And then?”

  A weak shrug, a nervous smile. “I haven’t thought that far ahead, actually. You won’t be released for several days, so...” She licked her lips, let her words drift into thought. The truth was that she hadn’t thought beyond Samuel’s release from the hospital, but had simply presumed that wherever he went, she and Daniel would go, too. Now she realized that such a presumption was, well, presumptuous.

  For Ellie, home was a drafty cabin tucked on top of a snowy mountain. She wondered if she’d ever see it again.

  “Honey?” Samuel touched her chin, urged her to look at him. “Why are you crying?”

  She sniffed, blinked, tried for a quivering smile that felt more like a grimace. “Just tired, I guess.”

  He considered that. “Were you still in love with him?”

  The question shocked her to her toes. “With Stanton? Oh, no, Samuel. How could you think such a thing?”

  “His death has hit you pretty hard.”

  She couldn’t deny it. “Yes, it has but not because I was in love him. In fact, I’m not sure I ever truly loved Stanton Mackenzie.” The confusion in Samuel’s eyes hurt her, so she looked away. “I’ve had some time to think over these past months, and I realize that my attraction to Stanton had been based on his initial refusal to commit, which was perfectly suited to my own fear of emotional entanglement. When everything changed and he began pursuing me, I was frightened. I didn’t want permanence. I didn’t want commitment.”

  Samuel sucked a quick breath. “And now?”

  And now the past still haunted Ellie, but she’d gained the strength to deal with it, and with her own culpability in a relationship that had been flawed from the outset. She hadn’t understood Stanton; she hadn’t understood herself. Despite considering herself fiercely independent, Ellie now realized that she’d always run from her weaknesses and lied to conceal them. During those weeks in the cabin, the dichotomy of her self-image had been shattered, first as she’d relied on Sam for her very existence, then as he’d relied upon her for his life. The woman who’d prided herself on being neither needy nor needed had discovered that she was both.

  She’d learned to trust. She’d learned to love.

  Ellie smiled at this man who was everything to her. “And now everything is different.”

  Relief flooded his gaze, softened his shoulders. “Has anyone ever told you what a kind person you are?”

  That startled her. She’d been told that she was funny, flighty, even self-indulgent and a little odd, but never kind.

  Samuel studied her intently. “Watching you comfort Stanton’s widow touched me, Ellie. This is a woman who has done nothing but cause you grief, yet you consoled her, let her cry on your shoulder, gave her emotional support and comfort. That’s what kind people do, Ellie. They care about others.”

  She squirmed at the praise, retrieved her hand from Samuel’s grasp so she could absorb the warmth of her sleeping child with her palm. His tiny chest rose beneath her hand, rhythmic little breaths that were more comforting to a mother than all the world’s riches. She realized Samuel was right. She did care about others now. She cared about her beautiful baby. She cared about Samuel. She even cared about Marjorie Mackenzie, who had endured such heartache and pain. “Maybe I’ve finally grown up,” she murmured. “My mother would say it’s about time.”

  “You’re grown up, all right.” Samuel reached out, waited until she’d taken his hand. “You’re a full-grown woman, Ellie, the finest I’ve ever known.” He hesitated, seemed strangely nervous. “These past few days, I’ve -had a lot of time to think, too.”

  “think about what?”

  “Things.” A moist sheen gleamed along his upper lip. “Things about you, mostly. And Daniel, and me. And you and me. And you and me and Daniel.” Stuttering now, Samuel sucked a wheezing breath, muttered a frustrated curse. “I mean, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about—” He straightened, blinked, stared past her toward the open door.

  Ellie anxiously tugged his hand. “What, Samuel? What did you want to talk to me about?”

  He pointed. “Did you
see that?”

  Irritated by the interruption, Ellie tossed a haphazard glance over her shoulder, saw nothing but a shadow in the hall. “Just someone walking by. Now, what were you saying?”

  A rumble from the hallway grew closer. A moment later, the front edge of a gurney paused in the doorway. There was. a sheet-covered lump on the gurney. Ellie stiffened. “What on earth—?”

  A vaguely familiar face peered inside, cracked into a grin, then disappeared. Before Ellie could turn for a better look, the gurney rolled into the room followed by a half-dozen uniformed paramedics and the owner of the grinning face, who limped in with the aid of a cane.

  The freckle-faced civilian leaned over the gurney, whispered something to the covered lump, which instantly vibrated, reared up. Chaos erupted. One of the paramedics pulled off the sheet. Baloo leapt off the gurney, woofing madly.

  Samuel lit up. “‘Loo!” It was all he could say before the joyful animal scrambled onto the hospital bed, threw himself into his master’s arms and covered’ Samuel’s face with happy dog kisses. The animal paused long enough to climb over Samuel’s lap, sniff Daniel, kiss Ellie, then circled the bed, barking in excitement.

  “He’s been sulking for days,” the civilian said cheerfully. “I told him you were too damned mean to die, but old Baloo has to see everything for himself.”

  The hound emitted an agreeable yelp, then went back. to licking his laughing master’s face while uniformed crew members surrounded the bed, chattering non-stop.

  “Hey, man!”

  “’Bout time you got back.”

  “Where’ve you been, Sam?”

  “The department’s gone to hell without you.”

  Everyone was talking at once, including Samuel, who responded to each of his co-workers as if such pandemonium was a normal part of his life. All Ellie could do was hug her sleeping son to her breast while her gaze darted from each of the chattering paramedics to the rumpled gurney abandoned at the doorway.

  A kind voice emanated from beside her. “For some odd reason, the hospital has rules about pets visiting, so we had to be creative.” The civilian smiled, held out a pale hand spattered with rust-colored freckles. “You must be the infamous Ellie Malone.”

  She took his hand, returned his smile. “And you must be the notorious Drake Jackson.”

  He flashed a mischievous grin. “Aw, who told?”

  “Let’s just say that you haven’t changed much since you were ten.”

  “Ouch.” Drake flinched, yanked an invisible dagger from his heart. “Sam must have pulled out the old photo album, hmm?” His laugh was warm, inviting. “I’d like to think I’ve changed a little since those days. At least I’m taller.” When Ellie agreed that he was indeed taller, Drake’s voice took a more serious edge. “If it wasn’t for you, Sam wouldn’t be here.”

  “If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be here, nor would my son.”

  “Yeah, I heard.” Drake’s gaze wandered to the baby’s face, so peaceful in slumber. He shifted, clutched the cane with both hands and leaned forward. “Anyway, I’ve been wanting to thank you for, you know, taking such good care of him.”

  Ellie touched Drake’s wrist. “I’ve been wanting to thank you for the same thing.”

  Startled, he glanced over, studied her for a moment, his pale eyes warmed with understanding. Beyond them the chaos of male voices and laughter became an indistinguishable hum of white noise. “I guess we both kind of like the guy, hmm?”

  “No accounting for taste, I suppose.”

  Drake laughed. “Y’know, you’re all right. I approve .”

  “Funny, I was thinking the same thing about you.”

  “What is this?” A mass of white polyester fury loomed in the doorway, returned Baloo’s happy yelp with a horrified stare. “A dog? A filthy animal? This is an outrage!”

  “Uh-oh,” Drake whispered from the corner of his mouth. “Dragon lady caught on. We’d better boogie before she turns us into surgical cadavers.”

  Blue uniforms blurred into motion as the angry nurse sputtered and spouted hideous threats. The gurney was grabbed, Baloo was leashed, goodbyes were hollered above the crashing din while the crew and their canine stowaway were unceremoniously ushered away.

  Drake winked from the doorway. “Later, man.” He paused when Samuel called out to him. “Yeah?”

  Samuel heaved a nervous breath, slipped an arm around Ellie’s waist as she stood beside the bed. “You know that thing you asked me to do for you?”

  A perplexed frown furrowed Drake’s amber brow. “What thing?”

  “The, er—” Samuel cleared his throat “—best-man thing.”

  “Yeah,” Drake replied warily. “What about it?”

  “I was just wondering, I mean, if you haven’t found anyone else—”

  “I haven’t.”

  “Well, I’d kind of like to, ah—”

  “Your tux has already been ordered.” A smile crinkled the corners of his mouth. “You didn’t think I’d let anyone else stand up for me, did you?”

  Samuel’s fingers tightened at Ellie’s waist. “No more than I’d want anyone else to stand up for me. That is, if you’d be willing to return the favor.”

  It took a moment for Ellie to interpret Drake’s smile of surprise. “Hey, man, congratulations! When’s the big day?”

  “I, ah—” Samuel angled a sheepish glance upward, met Ellie’s shocked gaze with a question. “That all depends on the lady. If she’ll have me, that is.”

  Clinging to Daniel, Ellie felt her knees wobble dangerously. “Samuel Evans, are you asking me to marry you?”

  “Uh-huh.” A wary cloud veiled his eyes. “Will you?”

  A warm mist of happiness blurred her vision. She blinked it away, laughed out loud. “You don’t think I’d sing to anyone else, do you?”

  A warm chuckle emanated from beyond the empty doorway, while the familiar thump-swish dissipated down the hall.

  They were alone now, Samuel and Ellie and Daniel, alone to cherish the memories of yesterday, the joy of today and the gifts that tomorrow promised. Ellie knew that Samuel would be all right, both physically and emotionally. By releasing his pent-up grief, he could put past defeats in perspective and savor the victories by remembering those whose lives he had touched and restored.

  The demons of their past were behind them now. They could live again; they could love again. Their new life had just begun.

  Epilogue

  “Mama, Mama, Mama!” Daniel Mackenzie Evans stretched out his chubby arms, danced an impatient jig inside the custom-hewn canopy crib that was a gift from his godmother. Rumpled feathers of brown hair tweaked from his sleep-dampened scalp, and a pressure mark from the mattress reddened his left cheek. “Uh-uh-uh,” he grunted, flexing fat little fingers as his mother approached.

  Ellie scooped him up, laughing. “Did Mommy’s precious snookie-wookie birthday boy have a good nap?”

  “Joose,” Daniel said.

  “Oh, you’re going to have juice and cake and ice cream and so many presents that you won’t know where to begin. Won’t that be fun?”

  The baby stuffed both hands in his mouth, giggling madly. “Joose.”

  “First we have to spruce up for our guests. You’ve got to look particularly spiffy today.” Spinning him around until he shrieked with delight, Ellie finally settled her son on the changing table and went to work. “Birthday boy,” she crooned. “Mommy’s joy, he turns one today. Birthday boy, he’s so coy—”

  A mournful howl drowned out the final stanza. Ellie skewered Baloo with a look. “I suppose you can do better.” The hound threw back his head, howled like a bereaved coyote. Ellie flinched, angled a worried glance toward the hallway beyond which guests were congregated for Daniel’s party. “Okay, okay, I concede. Pipe down before you scare everyone away.”

  Baloo fell silent, gazed up with a triumphant, tongue-lolling grin while Ellie dressed her son in a natty little sailor suit and tidied his ruffled hair with a sil
ky soft brush. “There, you look positively adorable.” Daniel clapped his hands, emitted a jubilant screech. “Okay, handsome, let’s greet our adoring public. Whoa, you are getting heavy.”

  Shifting the squirming baby on her hip, Ellie gave his drooly mouth a final wipe and headed to the living room of the small two-bedroom home that she and Samuel had rented last spring.

  As they emerged from the hallway, Samuel stepped from a group huddled by the buffet table. “There’s my man.” Two steps and he’d dodged the twinkling Christmas tree to scoop Daniel out of Ellie’s arms. “Hey, buddy, how’s it feel to be the big one-oh!”

  “Da-da,” Daniel squeaked, then plopped a wet, open-mouthed kiss on his adopted father’s grinning face. “Joose.”

  “How about ice cream and cake instead?” Samuel shifted his son, bent to brush a kiss on his wife’s cheek, then carried Daniel over to the fawning group of party-goers that included Drake and JoAnn Jackson, her two children from a previous marriage and several of Samuel’s colleagues from the department, including the psychologist with whom Samuel had been working to establish a counseling program for traumatized rescue workers.

  Samuel glanced down just as Baloo hoisted up to investigate the tempting aromas wafting from the buffet table. “’Loo, no! Go lie down.” The banished hound whined, slunk to his doggy bed and curled up on his raggedy blanket, bright eyes on the lookout for any tasty morsel that might slip from a hapless guest’s plate.

  A glance at the clock sent Ellie heading toward the kitchen to retrieve Daniel’s birthday cake from the safety of a dog-proof cupboard. The round layer cake sporting a grinning, smiley-face caricature was placed on the buffet table amid appreciative murmurs from the guests.

  “Umm, chocolate. Ow!” Drake yanked back his slapped hand, gave his frowning wife a hangdog look as he sucked icing off the tip of his finger. “That’s what I love about physical therapists,” he whispered in a sexy purr. “They’re so physical.”

  JoAnn flushed to her roots while Drake’s comrades guffawed, but she would have no doubt issued her own snappy comeback if the front door hadn’t flown open with enough force to startle everyone in the room.

 

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