I Know Who Holds Tomorrow (12 page)

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Authors: Francis Ray

BOOK: I Know Who Holds Tomorrow
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Z
ACHARY CHECKED HIS CELL phone every fifteen minutes to make sure it was working. Manda slept a lot, but when she was up, she wanted attention. There wasn't going to be any way for Madison to avoid seeing her, touching her, talking to her. In a way, that was good because it would force them to be in contact with each other, but it could also lead to problems.
“Zach, if you don't place that tile the glue will dry.”
Zachary pressed in the black tile in the shower stall, then reached for another. “You finished in the powder room?”
Kelli Potts, folded her arms and leaned against the door jam. Small, delicate, with an impish smile in a pretty, mocha-hued face, she was the head carpenter of this project. “Ten minutes ago. You all right?”
“Just thinking,” Zachary said, pressing in another tile.
“If you think any slower, you'll never finish.” Coming down beside him, she nudged him aside. “Go take care of whatever it is that's bothering you. Me and the guys know what to do.”
“I haven't been much help lately,” he said. He believed in doing his best and working alongside his crew.
Kelli picked up another tile. “You will be when you get things settled. It's hard losing a friend. You go check on his wife.”
He hadn't told his employees about Manda, but they knew he and Wes had been close and that he had died. Some of them, like Kelli, had worked on Wes and Madison's house. “She's probably fine.”
“Then go see for yourself, then come back. This house is not going anywhere.”
“I'll be back as soon as I can,” Zachary said, knowing Madison's house
was a good hour's drive away. Washing up, he headed outside. Getting into his truck, he consoled himself with the knowledge that the sooner he got there and checked on them, the sooner he'd get back.
 
 
Madison jerked the door open, ready to give whoever was ringing the doorbell a piece of her mind. She blinked on seeing Zachary. “What are you doing here?”
He hesitated.
“What happened?” she asked anxiously.
“Nothing. I just came to see how things were going,” he confessed, wondering why his good idea didn't seem so wonderful now.
Her hand flexed on the doorknob. “I thought you weren't worried about her.”
The uncertainly in her face had him scrambling to fully explain. “I'm not worried about her, I just don't want you to feel overwhelmed,” he said truthfully. “You've got to be tired. She has a lot of energy and she hates going to sleep.”
The corner of Madison's mouth lifted at the understatement. “Another thing you forgot to mention. I finally got her to take a nap after lunch. I put her down about thirty minutes ago.” Opening the door wider, she stepped aside. “You took your life in your hands by ringing the doorbell.”
“Sorry.”
Madison shook her head as he tiptoed in his scuffed workbooks into the house. Quite an accomplishment for a man well over six feet and easily weighing a hundred and ninety pounds. “Would you like some lunch?
“I can grab a bite on the way back to the site.”
“You can just as well eat here.” She went to the kitchen. She didn't want anything, but he probably did. “Where are you working today?”
“Crapevine.”
She paused on opening the refrigerator door. “That's over an hour from here.”
“I'm used to driving from site to site,” he said simply. “I'll just wash up and help.”
Before she could stop him, he headed for the half bath near the kitchen. Going to the refrigerator, she gathered the ingredients to fix ham-and-cheese
sandwiches, her thoughts on Zachary. She'd never met a man quite like him.
He walked back into the kitchen and took the lettuce out of her hands. “I can do that. Why don't you sit down?”
“I'm not helpless,” she said, annoyed. She didn't mind his assistance with Manda, but he wasn't taking over her life.
“You don't have to be for someone to help.” He washed the lettuce. “You want heavy or light mayonnaise?”
“Are you always this way?” The question just slipped out, surprising them both.
He frowned. “What way?”
She studied him, realizing he had no idea she was talking about his tendency to help out whenever possible. Then the reason came to her. “You helped your mother, didn't you?”
“Of course.” He cut the thick sandwich with one sharp thrust of the knife. Like I said, it was just the two of us for a long time.”
There was more to the story—the sudden tension in his body said as much. He knew her secret; she wondered what his was.
 
 
Madison wasn't surprised to find Zachary on her doorstep a little after seven that night, or there in the mornings and evenings in the days that followed. Watching him care for Manda without being asked, she came to realize he was a man of his word, a man who took his responsibilities seriously. Not once did he complain or act as if he begrudged being there. His unwavering support comforted her and eased some of her anxiety.
Friday night after they had put Manda to sleep in her crib, he followed Madison down the hall to the foyer. “I can come by tomorrow and keep her if you have some errands to do or just want to get out.”
Madison hadn't left the house since the funeral a week ago. She was on hiatus and the station was running reruns of her show. She had no intention of going out, but Zachary didn't have to know that. “I'll call the housekeeper.”
Zachary frowned. “The psychologist I spoke with at the hospital said that we should try and limit the number of new people caring for Manda. He says she's probably feeling abandoned. Maybe you should wait a couple of weeks before calling her.”
“You failed to mention that as well.” She lifted a delicate brow. “Is there anything else about her I should know?”
He shifted uneasily in his chair. For a brief instant his gaze shifted to the baseball cap in his hand. “It's not my intention to keep information from you or to trap you. It's just that I don't always think of it until it comes up.”
Madison stared at him. It sounded reasonable, but for a moment she had wondered. “I just don't lire being lied to.”
“No one does,” he replied, this time meeting her gaze. “What time should I come?”
“I wasn't planning on going out,” she finally confessed, her hands tightly clasped in her lap.
“Then I'll come around ten.” Pushing up from the chair, he went to the front door and opened it. “Good night, Madison.”
“Good night, Zachary.”
Going down the bricked steps, he stopped and looked back at her. Small and slender, she was framed in the light. Zachary had the urge to walk back, take her in his arms and …
“Did you forget to tell me something else?” Madison asked, worried by the strange look on his face.
Fist clenched, he said, “Nope. Get back inside and lock up. I'll see you in the morning.”
Madison rolled her eyes. Zachary was definitely a throwback to the age where men felt women were helpless and needed protecting.
Opening the door to the truck, he stared pointedly at her. Stepping back, she closed the door. Being around Zachary was certainly going to try her patience—patience that was already thin and frayed. But she had to admit, he also helped.
 
 
Saturday morning Zachary arrived exactly at ten with his arms wrapped around two big bags of groceries. After saying good morning, he went to the kitchen and set the paper sacks on the sky-blue tiled counter. “I figured you might be running low on food so I picked up a few things. Hope you don't mind.”
Madison watched him pull out jars, cans, and boxes of food for Manda.
Her eyes widened on seeing him unload yogurt, bagels, milk, and a bite-size-chocolate bag of her favorite candy bar.
Since she personally hated grocery shopping, she knew it had taken time and effort on his part to shop for them, yet he acted as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. Wes would have rather slit an artery than go into a grocery store.
“Thank you.” Pulling her mind away from Wes, she opened the pantry door and began putting away Manda's food. There was too much for the length of time she planned for Manda to be there, but it would keep. No matter what, she wasn't staying.
After they finished putting away the groceries, Zachary insisted on putting Manda in the stroller and taking her for a walk around the gated community. There was a children's park with a duck pond that he wanted to show her. Somehow Madison found herself with them, listening to Zachary talk to Manda as if she understood every word. It only took a moment to realize she did the same thing with Manda when she was alone with the baby.
She slid her hands into the pockets of her white linen slacks as they followed the paved path around a small man-made pond. She'd tried to remain impersonal while caring for Manda, but couldn't quite manage it. She'd find herself talking to Manda, smiling when she thought of her or just holding her because she seemed to need to be held as much as she needed the food.
“Your turn.”
“What?” Startled out of her musing, Madison glanced up at Zachary.
“Storytime,” he explained, picking Manda up and going to sit on a nearby white wooden bench beneath a willow tree. “Ducks.” He pointed as three waddled into the pond, then stared expectantly up at Madison who was still standing.
“Why can't you tell her a story?” she questioned, a bit annoyed.
“Because I've run out of the ones I know.” His arm curved around Manda's small body, he patted the bench next to him. “Isn't there a story about three ducks?”
“Pigs,” she corrected.
He smiled. “See what I mean?”
Sighing, Madison sat beside him. One story couldn't hurt, and what
good was a story without the animation of the storyteller? One story became three. By the time she'd finished “Jack and the Beanstalk,” Manda was in her arms grinning up at her.
Madison glanced up at Zachary. He had a strange expression on his face. She knew what he was thinking. But there was no way she was keeping Manda. She stood and placed the infant back in her carriage. “I think it's time we went home.”
He didn't say a word, just clamped his large hands around the stroller handle and started back the way they had come. Madison's shoulders slumped. She wondered why his silence made her feel as if she'd disappointed him and why it mattered so much to her if she had.
 
 
He stayed most of the day, helping Madison do the laundry, holding Manda on his hip while he vacuumed, and nudging Madison into eating a couple of bites of the steaks he'd grilled. She went to sleep watching him and Manda playing pat-a-cake. When she woke it was dark. She sat up on the leather sofa. Seated across from her in the Barbados chair, Zachary immediately closed the leather-bound book in his hands.
“Have a good nap?” he asked, leaning forward.
She pulled the blanket off her legs. It hadn't been there when she fell asleep. “Yes. Thanks for the throw.”
“You're welcome.” Zachary stood and walked to the built-in bookshelf near the fireplace to return the biography of Harriet Tubman. He hadn't read one page in the forty-seven minutes he'd held it. His entire attention had been on Madison. At least he could admit his feelings to himself, if not to her.
She simply made his heart pound. She stirred feelings in him he'd never experienced before. He wanted to touch her, hold her, kiss her on the delicate curve of her neck. In sleep, the lines of strain had disappeared from her face and she was at peace. With everything within him he wished he could keep her that way and at the same time he was desperately afraid he wouldn't be able to. Taking a deep breath to gain control of his emotions, he turned.

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