Bachelor to the Rescue (10 page)

Today, he'd chosen to work in his shop helping Jeb finish the cabinetry. It had been a while since he'd worked on furniture. A good diversion from putting down baseboards and keeping half a dozen subcontractors in line. A good diversion from Lainie, too.

Thoughts of her had kept him up late. Not that unusual, but last night, he'd had to come to grips with the fact she'd forgiven him. He was relieved, but on the heels of that came the realization there was nothing holding him back from loving her. The accident was no longer a dark cloud looming between them.

Things had changed. Or at least, they had the potential to change. She'd come to like him, and maybe even respect him, to a point. He suspected she was attracted to him. The air crackled when they were close, and sometimes he saw emotions in her eyes that led him to believe she cared. But maybe that was wishful thinking on his part. There'd been no indication she wanted anything more than a friendship. Until last night.

Something had changed. He'd sensed a shift in her attitude.

So what happened now? He attached the top and bottom hinges to the cabinet door, then slid them into the brackets and locked them down.

His primary role was protector. They might have set the past aside, but until the library was finished, and Lainie officially installed as librarian, he was responsible for her and the girls. Any kind of romantic notions, real or imagined, were off-limits. It was a matter of honor.

But it was also a matter of the heart. His heart wanted one thing, his head another. If something developed with Lainie, was he ready? Or even capable? Would she walk away like the others? Would she expect something from him he couldn't provide? The way Vicki had. Things he still didn't understand.

He moved to the next cabinet, picked up a set of hinges and screwed them in place. He was getting ahead of himself. They were friends. He might care for her, but there was little chance she'd come to care for him in the same way. Even if she no longer blamed him for the accident, she would still look at him and see the past. He would always be a reminder of what she'd lost. Nothing would change that fact. Ever.

Anxiety continued to swirl in his stomach. He hadn't realized until now that Lainie's animosity toward him had acted like a safety barrier. As long as she resented him, blamed him, he didn't have to worry where his feelings would lead. Now he was exposed.

He glanced at his arm and the fresh bandage he'd applied this morning. Her tender care last night had nearly been his undoing. He liked that she worried about him, that she wanted him to be safe. He'd yearned to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless. But then he'd seen the door to a future open, and it had scared him back to reality.

Shaw fastened the last cabinet door in place and reached for the next, nearly bumping into Russ. “What are you doing here?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing. You hiding out?”

“Helping out. Big difference.” When his friend didn't respond, Shaw dared a glance over his shoulder. He knew the look on the man's face. He wouldn't budge until Shaw talked. He put down his drill and leaned against the workbench. “Lainie told me she's forgiven me. She doesn't hold me responsible anymore.”

Russ nodded in approval. “That's good. Maybe now you can stop trying to work off your guilt and let the woman know how you feel.”

Shaw straightened and turned away, picking up the drill again. “Not happening. Until the library is done, I'm responsible for her well-being.”

Russ scowled.

“I failed once. I'm not sure I want to make another mistake. Besides, I'm not ready to give up my freedom.”

Russ rolled his eyes. “You mean like drinking with your buddies on the weekends, a string of beautiful women on your arm, no one to care what you do or where you go?”

“Come on. You know that's not me.”

“So what exactly would you be giving up?”

He had no answer.

Russ patted him on the shoulder, the gesture fatherly. “It's time you stopped thinking of life as something to be conquered and start thinking of it as an adventure. And what good is the trip without someone to hold your hand along the way?”

Shaw picked up another set of hinges, fisting them in his palm. Everyone thought they had the answer, the simple solution to one's problems. But his relationship with Lainie wasn't simple. There would be no quick fix for him where she and her girls were concerned.

Lord, I know You know what You're doing here, but I sure wish You'd let me in on it.

He wanted a happy ending, but he'd learned those were few and far between in real life.

* * *

The dust motes in the attic of Shaw's old house floated on the late-morning sunlight, streaming through the small gable window. With her Saturday free from the library, Lainie had grabbed the opportunity to explore the attic for treasures to decorate the house, and maybe a chair for the front porch so she could enjoy her morning coffee.

Thanks to Millie's help, they had nearly finished inputting the collection, and the first shipment of lending books had started to arrive. Worried that Lainie was working too hard, Millie had announced she would handle things and ordered Lainie to take the weekend to rest, enjoy her children and do something fun. She'd delivered her decree in a tone that dared Lainie to refuse.

She had to admit, she needed a break, and she'd made the most of the day so far. She'd slept until the girls had awakened, snuggled with them in her bed, made flower-shaped pancakes for the girls and a bone-shaped one for Beaux. After promising lunch at Angelo's pizza, she'd convinced the girls to play in their room while she went up to the attic to explore.

She wondered how Shaw's arm was doing today. If he was like most men, he'd forget to put on a fresh bandage. She'd have to check on him later. She'd intended to do that this morning, but he'd already left by the time she had got up. The girls were missing him. They hadn't seen him in a few days, and they talked about him constantly.

Shaw had backed away from them. Fine with her. Her dependence on him had got out of hand. He was so quick to step in and fix things and handle problems, she'd foolishly read more into his help than was intended.

She had little experience in the romance department. She was as susceptible to the old McKinney charm as every other woman. He'd planted a road sign clearly labeled Bachelorville. Take alternate route. Too late. He'd taken over her thoughts, and her heart was teetering near the edge.

At work, she glanced out the carriage house windows, hoping to catch a glimpse of him during the day. When she did, she stared in rapt infatuation. She liked to watch him work, the way he moved, the stern look on his face as he spoke with his men, and the way he would always run his fingers through his thick wavy hair after he'd removed his hard hat. And the sound of his voice never failed to shoot through her like fireworks.

She needed to be sensible. Even if there was a remote chance for a relationship, how could she reconcile that with her daughters? What would she tell them? She'd set herself up for heartbreak all over again, but now it included her children, too. The girls adored him.

Picking her way carefully around the wooden floors, she kept her eyes peeled for a chair she could take downstairs. So far, she'd found old bed frames, several wooden tables, rugs, trunks and pictures, but no chairs. Turning her attention to the other side of the attic, she uttered a soft squeal of delight. There, in the corner, tucked underneath boxes were two wicker rockers. One was in pristine condition, its weave tight and firm, the rockers smooth and secure. All it needed was a good cleaning and a fresh coat of paint. The other was usable, but in need of minor repairs on the arm and a new rocker to replace the broken one. Shaw could fix it, no problem.

She grasped the arms of the good chair, dropping it back down. It was heavier than it looked. There was no way she could maneuver it down the narrow attic stairs. She'd have to ask Shaw to bring them down when he got home. Her gaze fell on a small table nearby. It looked like a match to the chairs. That she could manage on her own. The table was lightweight, with a round top and legs that angled out from the center. It was lovely, and the perfect size to hold her Bible and a cup of coffee.

Lainie started down the stairs, peering around the tabletop so she could see the steps, which made a sharp turn at the bottom. As she neared the landing, her foot slipped out from under her. She dropped the table, grabbed for the wall, but tumbled forward instead. She stretched out her arm to stop her forward motion. Her arm hit the wall. White-hot pain shot up her arm to her elbow.

She screamed.

When she opened her eyes, she lay in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, her feet in the hallway, her shoulder wedged against the last step and the little table. Pain like a hundred knives pierced her arm. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

“Mommy!”

Natalie's voice pulled her from her confusion. She looked into her child's worried face. Chrissy hunkered down, starting to cry. “Mommy?”

Forcing herself to ignore the pain, she tried to think logically. “I'm all right, but I need you to go get Miss Gwen. Can you do that?”

Natalie nodded, her blue eyes fearful.

“Tell her I fell.”

Natalie ran off. Chrissy sat beside her and patted her shoulder. “It'll be okay, Mommy. I promise. Be brave.”

If she didn't hurt so badly, she would have laughed. Her child had said the words with the same intonation as she herself did when trying to comfort her daughters.

Lainie attempted to shift her position, but any movement sent searing pain along her elbow and forearm.
Please Lord, let Gwen be home. I need help.

Natalie had barely left when pounding footsteps shook the floor. “Lainie!”

Shaw. Relief washed through her, removing much of her fear. She didn't know why he was here in the middle of the day, but his presence gave her great comfort. Shaw could fix anything. He knelt beside her, his eyes filled with fear and concern.

“
Mon cher
,
what happened?” His eyes raked over her with concern.

“I was trying to bring this table down and I slipped. I think I broke my arm.”

“Can you sit up if I help you?”

“I don't know. What are you doing here?”

“I left one of my tools in the garage.” Shaw took her left arm and gently eased her around until she was sitting on the bottom step. She tried to move her arm only to cry out in pain.

“We need to get you to the clinic.”

She looked at her daughters. Natalie was staring wide-eyed with fear. Chrissy pouted and sniffled.

Shaw touched Natalie's shoulder. “Girls, I need to take your mom to a doctor so he can fix her arm. I want you to go next door and tell Miss Gwen what happened. Tell her I'm taking your mom to the clinic, and I'll call her later. Can you do that?”

Natalie nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Take your sister's hand and go straight to Miss Gwen's.”

With the girls on their way, Shaw turned his attention back to her. “I'm going to stabilize your arm. Do you have a scarf?”

She nodded. “In my room, the top drawer.”

He returned and folded the scarf into a simple sling. He took hold of her wrist and carefully raised it against her chest. She tried not to cry out, but failed.

With her arm secured, Shaw scooped her up in his arms and carried her to his truck, placing her gently in the front seat. She barely remembered the ride to the clinic. The only thing that was clear in her mind was Shaw's holding her hand, and his repeated words of comfort. He had a nice deep voice. Like a rich alto sax. Mentally, she giggled. That was silly. One thing pricked at her thoughts. “Why do you keep saying Shaw over and over?” She thought she heard him chuckle softly.

“I'm not. I'm saying
cher
. It's Cajun for dear, or darling.”

She smiled. “It sounds like Sha.”

“Yes, it does.”

“That's nice.” Her mind was fuzzy through the first part of the examination. She tried to concentrate on what the doctor was telling her. Hyperextended elbow. Not broken. Immobilize. Pain meds. No lifting. Week to ten days.

Full realization of her predicament didn't hit until she was back in Shaw's truck and heading home. “Did he say I had to wear this for two weeks?” She stared at the blue brace cradling her injured elbow. She was thinking clearly now, but unfortunately that brought a mental list of the things she wouldn't be able to do.

“He said a week to ten days if you rest and take care of your arm. That means no lifting.”

Lainie swallowed a lump of disappointment. That meant she couldn't hold her daughters for over a week. Natalie was almost too big for her to lift, but Chrissy was still small and liked to sit on her lap and cuddle in the morning. A new and more disturbing thought sent her heart racing. “The books. Does that mean I can't work on the books?”

“Not until the sling comes off. Even then, you might have to go easy.”

Anxiety squeezed her chest. “I have to work at the library. You know what will happen if we're not ready by the deadline.” Heartsick, she rested her head against the back of the seat. “I can't believe this is happening now, just when we're getting on top of things.”

“Millie will help.”

“It takes both of us working together. She can't do that work alone.”

“She'll have to. You can oversee the work until your arm heals.”

“Sit back and supervise others? Not me.”

“You don't have a choice.”

Tears stung the backs of her eyes. “Why now?”

Shaw squeezed her hand. “It'll be all right. I can help with the girls and Gwen will be next door when I'm not home.”

As they pulled into the driveway, Gwen hurried across the front lawn.

“How bad is it?”