Baby in His Arms (4 page)

Creed laughed at Haley’s surprised expression. “Want me to hold her while you do that?”

He’d never been a guy who went around holding babies, but Rose Petal was different. She’d stolen a corner of his heart yesterday morning and he hadn’t gotten it back yet. That a tiny infant wielded such power felt nothing short of weird.

He reached for Rose. His fingers collided with Haley’s soft smooth skin. The bizarre tingle came again, raising the hairs on his arms. His pulse jumped. He took Rose and stepped back, bothered.

He wasn’t attracted to this earth mother hippie. He couldn’t be.

“Ladies’ man?” Haley asked, oblivious to his discomfort as she repeated last night’s scene of pouring white powdery stuff into a baby bottle. “What have you been saying to Thomas?”

Creed shot Thomas a conspiratorial wink. “Guy talk.”

The ten-year-old puffed out his chest. “Yeah, guy talk. Can I have some cookies?”

Haley shook her head. “No more cookies. Try the yogurt or a banana and a glass of milk.”

At least she knew how to feed a kid properly. His mom would approve.

Odd that he would think that. Why would he care if his mother approved of a woman he barely knew?

Getting that itchy feeling again, Creed turned his attention to the soft bundle in his arms. She was squirmy and red-faced, her dark blue eyes squinted but staring a hole through him. Both elbows were bent and her fists were tight against her cheeks.

“Hey, little girl. Remember me?” Creed stroked one tiny fist and was gratified when the infant clutched his finger. The action was an innate reflex, but his insides warmed, anyway. “Why do you think her mother left her?”

He hadn’t meant to ask, but the question had haunted him all day.

Haley took the baby and stuck the bottle in her mouth. “I don’t know. I try not to think about it.”

He couldn’t think of anything else. The fact that Haley didn’t only proved how different they were.

He definitely wasn’t attracted to her. Not one bit.

She led the way down a short hall into the living room. Furnished in mismatched chairs and a floral couch like one he remembered in his grandmother’s farmhouse, the room was painted a sunny yellow. Green things sprouted from brown clay pots arranged beneath an east window. A framed mirror on one wall reflected the back of Haley’s auburn waves and her slender shoulders.

“I promised you something to drink,” she said. “But you’ll have to get it yourself. Rose Petal comes first at the moment.”

He waved her off, not sure if he should sit down or wait to be asked. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll live.”

“What?” Her lips curled in a teasing grin. “You aren’t pining for my dandelion tea?”

“I thought it was coffee.”

Her teeth flashed, accenting the small mole on her cheek. She had a pretty smile. “Could be both. But tonight I’m making neither. Will you settle for green tea? I could use a cup myself.”

Green tea? Creed fought a grimace but knew he’d failed when Haley laughed.

“Water, perhaps?” she asked.

“The perfect drink. I’ll get it.” He escaped to the kitchen, finding Thomas there.

The boy swigged the last of his milk and backhanded his mouth. “I had fun.”

He’d said that already. About a dozen times.

“Great.” Creed didn’t know much about little kids, but he remembered being a boy. A sometimes lonely boy. Not that his life was hard like Thomas’s, but an only child living in the country spent a lot of time alone with only his imagination for company.

“Will you come back? Maybe next time we can make a box kite. I read about them at school today. The teacher has this big book about different kites.”

Creed started to refuse, to make an excuse of all the reasons he didn’t want to hang around flakey Haley or get involved with a baby that wasn’t his or a foster child with an uncertain future, but the expression in Thomas’s eyes stopped him cold.

“That’s up to Haley.”

“She won’t care.”

Creed didn’t quite agree. He ruffled Thomas’s hair. “We’ll see. Okay?”

Thomas hitched one shoulder. “Okay.”

But Creed knew the boy was disappointed. Wrestling with his conscience, he scored two glasses of water and headed back to the living room and Haley. “Here you go.”

Haley shook her head. “Put mine on the table. I’m going to change Rose Petal and lay her down. We had hours of rocking last night and my arms are sore. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She took Rose Petal down a hall and went into a room he couldn’t see from here.

Thomas appeared in the opposite doorway. “Want to play UNO?” he asked hopefully.

Man.
He really needed to get out of here.
He’d come to fly a kite with Thomas and check on Rose Petal. That was all. Time to leave. “I should probably hit the road.”

“Oh.” Thomas’s body sagged. He turned back toward the kitchen.

The quiet acceptance hit Creed squarely in the cardiac muscle. “Maybe one game?”

The boy whipped around so fast that his cowlick waved like a wind sock. “Really?”

“If Haley says it’s okay.”

“She won’t care. She gets bored of playing games.” With a hop in his step, Thomas rushed out of the room, presumably to score the UNO cards.

From down the hall, Creed heard a baby’s cry followed by Haley’s soft murmurs. He couldn’t tell what she was saying but the crying ceased. He swigged his water and swallowed hard, wondering what it would be like to drift down the hall and peek inside that room, to watch while Haley settled Rose Petal for the night.

Feeling itchy again, he rotated the damp glass between his fingers. One game of UNO and he was out of here.

Haley returned, rolling her head as if her shoulders and neck ached. He wondered who massaged her sore muscles, who she leaned on, who cared for her while she was caring for someone else’s children. Did Haley have a boyfriend?

Creed mentally shook himself. Where were these random thoughts coming from?

“I hope she sleeps better tonight.” She rubbed at her right shoulder.

“Bad night last night?” What a stupid question. Fatigue rimmed Haley’s eyes. The woman was dead-tired.

“She doesn’t have a routine yet, but she’ll get one eventually. I was up every hour or two.”

“Brutal.”

“Tell me about it. After a while I gave up trying to sleep and went to work.” She took the glass of water from a scratched coffee table and drank deeply. Her throat flexed. The pale, smooth column looked soft and touchable.

Creed pried his eyes away. “You worked last night? Where?”

“I didn’t run off and leave Thomas and Rose Petal alone, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she said a bit hotly. “I work at home. I’m a folk artist. Gourd art mostly.”

Were those the odd-looking fruits he’d seen in the kitchen?

“Gourds.” Unable to formulate a more coherent reply, he sipped at his water. What did an artist do with gourds? And how did he ask that question without getting kicked out of her house? The neon “flakey Haley” sign flashed in his head.

“Thomas asked me to play UNO,” he said instead. “Does that work for you?”

If she was surprised by his change of subjects, she didn’t let on. “You’ll be his hero and maybe mine. If I never play another game of colors and numbers I’ll die happy.”

“See?” Thomas said, coming into the room. “I told you.”

Haley gave him a mock scowl. “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

The boy’s slender shoulder arched. “I already knew.”

Thomas plopped down in front of the coffee table and began doling out cards. “We each get seven. You know how to play, don’t you?”

“Sure. In the military, we played all kinds of card games.”

“Even UNO? I thought it was a kids’ game.”

“What?” Creed cried, pretending amazement. “No way.”

Being a helicopter pilot for the army was one part boredom and the rest pure adrenaline. They played any kind of game they could get their hands on.

He gathered his cards, sorted the colors and pairs. “You go first.”

With a sly grin, Thomas slapped down a draw four card and the game was on.

“He’s an ace at UNO, Creed. Watch your back.”

“I see that.” In truth, UNO was a simple game that required minimal concentration but Thomas played well. “When I was a kid I drove my dad nuts wanting him to play games with me.”

“Did he?” Haley asked. She’d taken the chair adjacent to the couch and curled her feet beneath her.

“Yeah. He was great. Well, he still is, but I don’t bug him to play as much as I used to.” He grinned.

“He sounds like a good dad.” There was something wistful in her voice.

“The best.” He added a blue seven to the pile. Thomas groaned and drew a card. “What about you?”

“No dad. Just a mom.” Again that wistful sound that had him wondering.

“Does she live in Whisper Falls?”

“Last time I heard from her, she was in Michigan. Before that Virginia. She moves around a lot.” Haley took one of the bright throw pillows and hugged it to her chest. “I’ve lived in more places than most people can name.”

Maybe that explained the free-spirit element. “How long have you lived in Whisper Falls?”

“A long time for me.” She looked upward, calculating. “Nearly seven years. What about you? Is Whisper Falls your hometown?”

Thomas played a lose-a-turn card. Creed’s hard-eyed scowl earned a giggle.

“Lived here all my life.” Well, most of his life. The only home he’d ever known was three miles out of town nestled in a grove of trees with a view of Blackberry Mountain. “Mom and Dad have lived in the same house for nearly forty years.”

Again that wistful expression. She gnawed the side of her thumb. “I can’t imagine staying in the same place all my life.”

“Don’t you like this town?”

“I love Whisper Falls, but you know how it goes. Nothing lasts forever.”

He cocked his head, interested, curious. Was she a will-o’-the-wisp that could flit from one situation to another, never putting down roots? “Some things do.”

She leaned forward, elbows on her knees and chin in her hands. “Like what?”

“Love, for one. God, for another.”

A beat of silence occurred, broken only by the snick of Thomas’s card against the discard pile.

Haley’s brown-sugar eyes studied him. The wheels were turning in her head. He could tell and wondered.

“You take your faith very seriously, don’t you?”

“Try to.” He slid a yellow two atop Thomas’s yellow six. “God took me seriously when He sent His Son to die for me. I figure the least I can do is love Him and let Him love me. What about you?”

She shrugged. “I believe in God, but most of the time I think He gets people started and then we’re pretty much on our own until we get to heaven. Church just makes us feel like we belong to something.”

Heavy topic, but he was never one to shy away from discussions about God. In truth, he never shied away from much of anything. But his faith was number one.

“Not me. I take people’s lives up in my chopper every day. I need to know God is up there with me.”

“Christians die in crashes. How do you explain that?”

“I don’t.” He reached for his glass and downed the last of the water. “If I understood the mysteries of life and faith, I’d be God. I leave the hard stuff to Him.”

“Don’t you ever get scared?” She sat back against the couch, her reddish hair blending with the wild flowers on the couch. “Up there, I mean.”

“Not usually. God is with me whether I live or die. I have that promise. So, it’s all good.” He was down to two cards. Thomas still had three. “I’ll get you on the next round, Thomas. Better look out.”

The boy stared at his cards, saying nothing and for half a beat, Creed regretted his threat. He probably should let the kid win.

“UNO!” Thomas yelled as he slapped down three cards in fast succession.

“Hey!”

Thomas giggled.

“Told you he was good.” Haley leaned forward and patted Thomas on the back. “Great job, bud.”

“Want to play again?” Thomas’s blue eyes danced with pleasure.

“Will you let me win this time?”

The answer did exactly as Creed intended. Thomas tumbled backward onto the floor. Arms over his middle, he drew his knees up and belly laughed.

The adults exchanged amused glances, the heavy conversation tabled for the time being. The next time he was here, he wanted to talk more. Creed caught himself mid-thought. Would there be a next time?

While he mulled the idea, torn between wanting to be here and wondering what had come over him, someone knocked at the front door.

Haley glanced at the clock. “Who would that be this late?”

With a shrug, she popped up from the chair and went to answer.

When she opened the door, a man stepped inside. He was dressed in a business suit and carried a bouquet of brightly colored flowers.

Thomas, busy organizing his cards, made a soft hissing noise. Creed shot him a questioning look.

“Mr. Henderson,” he whispered. “I think he’s Haley’s boyfriend.”

Chapter Four

“B
rent.” Haley bit back a sigh. Her evening had been going unusually well. She should have known something would happen to spoil it.

“May I come in?”

What could she say? He was her landlord. The house belonged to him. She stepped to the side and let him in.

“I hope you aren’t still upset with me,” he said.

She was, but she was smart enough not to say so.

He held out a bouquet. “Your favorite.”

Haley had lots of favorites but Brent wasn’t one of them. The flowers, however, were a rainbow of gerbera daisies. She took them, stuck her nose in and sniffed. “They’re nice. Thank you. I’ll get them in some water.”

Bouquet in hand, she was eager to make the escape and figure out a way to avoid the topic of rent. Or eviction. She owed him money and Brent wasn’t one to be patient. Her close friend Cassie Blackwell would loan her the rent money, but she’d borrowed before. Haley didn’t want to ask again.

Creed extended a hand to the newcomer. “Brent Henderson, right? Creed Carter.”

Well, of course they’d know each other. They’d both grown up in this tiny place, though Brent was maybe ten years older.

“Carter,” Brent said, his eyes questioning. If Creed noticed, he chose to ignore the obvious. Brent wanted to know what he was doing here. Haley wasn’t going to satisfy him with an answer. She hoped Creed wouldn’t, either.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

She returned to find Brent ensconced on her best chair—the only one she hadn’t bought at a thrift shop—and Creed Carter standing at the front door.

“You’re not leaving?” she said before she realized how that sounded.

“My day starts early. Thanks for the evening.”

Thomas had followed him to the door. Creed scuffed the boy’s wild blond hair and winked. “Thanks for the UNO lesson.”

Thomas grinned. “Wave at me tomorrow?”

“You got it.” And then he was gone.

Men, Haley thought, are the strangest creatures.

“What was he doing here?” Brent asked without preamble.

Haley gave him a cool look. “Visiting.”

Did he actually think it was any of his business if she had a guest?

“Creed helped me fly my kite,” Thomas said. “We built it, too. Last night. Creed’s a pilot. Did you know that?”

Thomas was not usually a chatty-patty, but his words had a strange effect on her landlord. He sat up straight and stiff, his Adam’s apple protruding beneath a very tight jaw.

“Creed was here last night, as well?”

Haley was tempted to tell him to go suck a lemon. Wisdom and the need for a roof over her head reined in the urge. After living on this small acreage on the edge of town for years, she’d put down the deepest roots of her life. She loved it here. She’d spent countless hours and too much money on plants and pots and paint to improve the place. Everything she needed was here. Even the work space for her art, though small, was the best she’d ever had.

She could not afford to alienate Brent Henderson. She’d give anything if his father, Elbert, hadn’t given his son control over his real estate business.

“Would you like some tea, Brent? I was about to have a cup.”

“Thank you. Tea would be nice.” He stood as if to follow her into the kitchen. “I thought you were going to paint the living room.”

Haley stopped in the doorway.

“I am.” When she got the money for more paint. “Did you notice the landscaping work on the south side of the house? I removed that dead tree myself.”

“Nice.”

That was all he could say? Nice? She’d saved him several hundred dollars by doing the job herself. Elbert Henderson had allowed her credit for the improvements she’d done. Brent was not inclined to appreciate her labors.

“Why don’t you sit down and relax, Brent? I’ll get the tea. Thomas will entertain you. Won’t you, Thomas?”

She widened her eyes at the boy to telegraph her meaning. Thomas was smart and intuitive. He’d get the message. The last time Brent had followed her into the kitchen he’d crowded her against the sink and kissed her. She didn’t want to lose her home, but there would not be a repeat of that episode.

Trooper that he was, Thomas slid down beside the coffee table. As she hurried into the kitchen, she heard him ask, “Want to play UNO?”

* * *

An hour later, Haley leaned against the front door and sent a prayer of thanks as Brent drove away. Thomas, who’d played the innocent chaperone, yawned.

“Are you gonna marry him?”

Haley’s eyes widened. “What? No. Never. Why would you ask that?”

“He brought flowers. Guys on TV do that when they want to get married.”

“The flowers were an apology for saying something he shouldn’t have.” And for kissing me without my consent.

“I like Creed better, anyway. If he brought flowers, would you marry him?”

“Thomas! I’m not going to marry anyone. Ever.” She pressed both hands against her cheeks. Foster kids often asked the craziest questions. She supposed all kids did, but her experience was with the temporaries. “Now, go take your bath and head for bed.”

“Can I invite Creed over again?”

Her belly quivered. “I’ll think about it. Now go on. School comes early.”

He emitted a resigned huff and slouched out of the living room.

Once she had him settled in his bed and had checked on Rose Petal, Haley made her way to the small room off the side of the kitchen. In the original farmhouse, this space had been a screened-in porch. Over the years, the room had been remodeled into a sunroom which served her needs as an artist. Plenty of good, natural light, enough space to spread out and the soaring vista of Blackberry Mountain in the distance. At this time of night the sun was gone and Blackberry Mountain was an invisible promise. Not that either mattered when the paints and ideas called to her.

Even though tired to the bone, working relaxed her enough to sleep. At least, she hoped she got to sleep tonight.
That
was up to Rose Petal.

She pulled out her paints and the birdhouse in progress. With meticulous care, she painted in a flower she’d outlined earlier in the day. One of her more ambitious projects to date, when she finished, the once-dull, brown gourd would be transformed into a glossy, whimsical birdhouse cottage befitting a fairy-tale character. Anyway, that was her plan. The work didn’t always turn out the way she imagined.

Tongue between her teeth, she stroked a cluster of tiny green leaves. Her fingers felt stiff tonight. So did her shoulders. Tension, she supposed. Brent had that effect on her. So did Creed, come to think of it, but in a different way.

She painted a vine, curling the greenery up and around the brown, oval door, trying hard to concentrate on the art, but her thoughts kept turning to the two men. Thomas’s questions had given her pause. Poor little kid. He wasn’t comfortable with Brent, and she understood that. She wasn’t, either. For the most part Brent ignored him. He’d rebuffed Thomas’s offer to play UNO and had barely glanced at the kite Thomas had eagerly brought from his bedroom. The latter annoyed her to no end.

The tip of her brush slipped. Paint streaked down the front of the gourd. With an exasperated sigh, she put the brush in solvent and carefully wiped down the mistake.

Maybe she was too tired to create tonight. She rolled her head around her shoulders, muscles tense and achy.

When she’d made that telltale motion earlier this evening, Brent had offered to massage her neck. She shuddered, pretty sure where that would have led. Her landlord was too pushy, too obvious, and she wasn’t sure if he wanted to abuse their landlord-tenant relationship or if he honestly liked her.

Either way, she wasn’t attracted enough to find out.

Creed Carter’s face flashed in her memory. Okay, so she’d liked him better than she’d expected to. But she’d probably seen the last of him. Like a good Christian he’d done his duty. He’d come to see the baby. He’d kept his promise to Thomas. Now the flyboy could forget them all. Upon Brent’s arrival, he’d slithered away like a threatened snake. Typical. So typical.

Men, like foster children, were only passing through, a nasty truth she’d learned from experience. Don’t get too involved. Prepare for the inevitable goodbye and guard her heart. Be careful. Be oh, so careful.

For some reason, maybe a combination of fatigue and worry over the rent, tonight that hard-learned truth settled in her chest like a boulder.

* * *

On a damp Saturday, a few days later, Creed parked along the curb outside Whisper Falls’ senior citizen housing complex. With a scenic tour booked in an hour, he hurried up the neatly trimmed walkway to Grandma Carter’s apartment, a bag of groceries in tow. As always when he paid his visits, Grandma was waiting at the front door. Leaning on her walker with one hand, she unlocked the glass enclosure with the other.

Love warmed Creed’s chest.

Once inside, he bent to kiss her soft paper-thin cheek. She smelled exactly as she had for as long as he could remember—of face powder and Chanel No. 5. He should know. He bought the perfume for her every Christmas. “How’s my best girl?”

“Fit as a fiddle. Did you get my medicine?”

“Yep. Stopped at the pharmacy on the way. Your pills are in here, along with the groceries on your list.”

She scooted the walker around, leaning more heavily than she had last week and slowly scraped along toward the plaid blanket-clad lift chair. With a twinge of guilt, Creed regretted not coming by all week. But with his business hopping and the two evenings at flakey Haley’s house, he hadn’t. Last evening, a couple had booked a romantic sunset flight, and by the time the heli was serviced and put away, he’d not gotten back to his apartment until late.

“Your daddy took to me to see Dr. Ron yesterday,” Grandma said, the words whooshing out with a grunt as she lowered herself into the recliner.

“What did he say?”

“My knee’s shot. Just as we figured. He wants to send me down to Little Rock for a knee replacement.”

Creed set the bag of groceries on the counter. Her tiny apartment had a combined living room and kitchen with a bedroom and bath off one side. That was it. A tiny place that was easy for her aging body to maneuver in.

“When?”

“I’m still deciding, honey. Your old granny is wearing out. Putting a fake knee inside of my leg won’t turn back the clock.”

“But a new knee will keep you mobile.”

“Oh, I reckon.” She nodded, the still-thick hair as iron-gray and fluffy as a storm cloud. “But all that recuperation time, I’ll be stuck in a strange city in some rehab center.”

He smiled, understanding. Granny had lived her whole life in the rural mountains, had drawn water from a well and lived without electricity or modern convenience. A depression-era hill woman, cities scared her. “I’ll come visit you and bring Mom and Dad in the chopper. Aunt Darlene lives close to Little Rock. She and her kids will come.”

“I know it, but I still don’t like to be gone from home that long.” She rocked a little. “You think I should do this?”

“Do you want to work in your roses again?”

Chuckling, she pointed a gnarled finger at him. “You know right where to get me, don’t you?”

Grandma Carter had grown roses of every kind until arthritis and age had forced her to give up her old farmhouse in the hills and move into town. Even though she didn’t complain, he knew she missed the country. And the roses.

“I talked to the unit manager a few days ago. She said you can plant flowers out in front as long as you take care of them. As soon as you’re ready, say the word and I’ll dig up a space to get you going.”

“Will you take me out to the farm for cuttings?”

“When you get that new knee, I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

She shook her fist at him. “Oh, you are a sly one.”

From his spot in the kitchenette, he winked at her. “Love you, too, Grandma.”

The grocery bag crinkled as he emptied the contents, putting each item in its proper place in the cabinets or refrigerator. Granny kept her things orderly, the way he liked.

The talk of flowers and order sent his thoughts to Haley and her disorderly tangle of vines and plants and flowers. “Do you know Haley Blanchard?”

“Well, let’s see.” Grandma propped a palm against her cheek. “Seems like I’ve heard the name. Why?”

“No reason, really. She grows flowers like you do.”

“You sweet on her?”

In spite of himself, heat rushed up the back of his neck. “No way. She’s too hippielike for me. She takes in foster kids.”

And according to Thomas and the icy stares from Brent Henderson, Haley had a boyfriend.

“Ah.”

What did that mean?
Ah?

“Don’t read anything into it, Grandma. Haley is fostering the little baby I found at church.”

Grandma’s crooked hand pressed to her heart. “How’s that precious child doing? Poor little lamb. Just breaks a body’s heart.”

“Doing good. Anyway, she was the last time I stopped in.”

“So you been visiting her? This Haley woman?”

“The abandoned baby.”

“The baby.” She rocked some more. “Ah.”

That one little, heavily loaded sound was starting to wear on him. Visiting an abandoned baby was not the result of some deep-seated, psychological need rising from his own personal situation. Nor was the visit a quest for romance.

“I brought you some peanut brittle from Evie’s Sweets and Eats.”

“Well, get it out of that sack, child. Let’s eat it. I know you want some.” She shot him an ornery grin. “I also know you don’t want to talk about this Haley or the baby.”

Creed shook his head. “How did Grandpa survive fifty years?”

Grandma snickered.

Grinning, Creed took the candy from the paper sack and handed her the smaller zippered bag of candy. While her arthritis-twisted fingers sought the opening, a white truck pulled up outside. “Dad’s here.”

“That son of mine can smell peanut candy a mile away. Better hide it quick.”

When he snorted at her, she laughed again. Grandma was a spitfire even now, and she loved nothing more than a good laugh. Strong and solid as the mountains and as full of God as the sky, she’d lost a daughter and three grandchildren, nursed a bedridden husband for ten years and still found the good and beautiful in everyday life. Even though her blood didn’t run in Creed’s veins, he hoped he’d gained some of her qualities.