Love Inspired May 2015 #2 (3 page)

Probably because she'd cried late into the night.

After nearly four hours of inconsolable crying, he'd looked up colic on the internet and thought that must be what she had because she didn't seem sick otherwise. Still, if she had another night like the last, he'd take her to the doctor to be on the safe side.

With the fabric carrier assembled, adjusted to fit and strapped on him, Jake climbed in the backseat and lifted Abigail from her car seat. Then he followed the step-by-step, very complicated directions for slipping her into the fabric that would hold her against his chest, kind of like a reverse backpack.

As he was hooking one of the head supports, her little body slipped sideways, about stopping his heart. He quickly stabilized her head and snapped the buckle into place. Assured she was peacefully snoozing and wouldn't fall out of the contraption, he climbed out of the truck, hoping he could work awhile.

His flooring subcontractor, Zeb, a trim man in his sixties wearing jeans and an old blue work shirt, stood at the front of the brick ranch home they were building with his arms crossed, waiting.

“Hey, Zeb. Sorry again about the tile delivery. Pete assured me he'd have it here by nine this morning.”

“We can't finish as promised if he doesn't. I've already lost a day.” Zeb's eyes narrowed as he spotted a tiny head peeking out of the carrier contraption. “Uh, congratulations?”

“She belongs to Remy. I'm babysitting.”

A big breath of air whooshed out of him. “That's good. Was afraid I'd missed something big.”

Jake pressed fingers against his burning eyes. “Had a rough night. She cried for hours.”

“Lots of prayer going on in the West household, huh?”

“You know it. More like begging for mercy.” He laughed. “You know anything about colic?”

“Can't say that I do.” Zeb squinted into the late-morning sun. “Except I remember one of my girls had luck by changing her baby's formula.”

Jake nodded. Zeb had kids and grandkids, so Jake could trust parenting tips from the man. “Have you been inside? Did my cabinets get delivered?”

“Not yet. The guys are still taping and muddin' drywall and priming.”

Jake needed to go inside, make sure everyone was on schedule and the work met his expectations. But a work site wasn't the place for a baby. “If Pete isn't here in fifteen minutes, I'll call him.”

“Thanks, Jake. We'll do a good job for you.”

“You always do.” He only hired top-notch subcontractors, and Zeb and his crew were the best around.

Jake made a phone call, and as soon as he hung up, Abigail began to stir. She'd be hungry when she woke. She'd also need a fresh diaper...or two or twenty.

There was no way he'd be able to work while caring for a baby. He needed to find child care, and quickly.

Turning to go to the truck, he spotted Violet's shiny, older model luxury convertible pulling in behind his vehicle. She'd either had it for several years or had bought it used. Either way, he had to admit she might have a good head on her shoulders. Well, except for the brand-new, very expensive tires.

“Oh, hello,” she said as she climbed out.

“Hey.” Had she been out for a Saturday drive and just happened to spot him? Or had she come to check up on Abigail?

The latter was the more likely scenario.

Wearing shorts and a flowery pink top, Violet looked like a breath of fresh air. Her mile-long, shapely legs caught the attention of a few of his men watching from the garage area.

Jake put himself between them and Violet, blocking their view. “I was just headed to change Abigail and get a bottle.”

“Don't let me stop you.”

Would Violet hang around? Jake had parked in the shade and planned to change Abigail's diaper right there in the truck. Violet better not breathe down his neck and complain about his decision. He had to do a decent job with the diaper, though, or else Abigail would be strapped to his chest, a loaded weapon ready to wreak havoc.

By the time he'd laid the baby on a changing pad placed on the vehicle seat, she was fully awake.

Violet peeked around his shoulder. “Looks like that diaper's on pretty good.”

“Yep.”

“So I guess you don't need any help with the clean one.”

“Nope.” He successfully changed her despite the tense woman watching. When Abigail fussed, he popped a bottle in her mouth and tucked her in the crook of his arm.

“How did she sleep last night?”

“Not well. I'll bring her by the office if we continue to have problems.”

“Problems? What type of problems?” Violet asked, going from the diaper police back to pediatrician.

“She cried from eight until nearly midnight. I think she has colic.”

“Well, there are several things you can try, like—”

“Thanks, but I read about it on the internet. Got some ideas.” He nodded toward town. “And I bought your whole list of baby stuff, so we're good to go.”

The Pete's Flooring truck arrived with the tile as Abigail slurped down the formula.

“Excuse me a minute.” Jake strode across the lot.

Happy and bright-eyed, Abigail let the nipple slip out of her mouth. He tucked the bottle in his front pants pocket. Abigail watched him as he directed Pete where to drop off the tile. While Pete's men unloaded the pallets, the truck with the kitchen cabinets arrived.

“Jake, do you want me to hold her?” Violet called as she picked her way across the muddy expanse of the future front lawn.

“Hang on just a minute.”

Needing to direct the second delivery, and hoping to prove to the doc that he could take care of his baby cousin, Jake safely tucked Abigail in the carrier against his chest, talking sweetly to her in a voice that no longer felt strange. A couple of his men snickered.

Ignoring them, he pointed the second group of deliverymen toward the garage. Once they finished unloading, they started backing out, nearing Pete's truck.

“Whoa!” Jake rushed over, waving his arms to stop the collision.

Startled by his voice and sudden movement, Abigail shrieked, her arms and legs flailing. He quickly soothed her, patting and cooing.

Jake finally sent the cabinet truck on its way, then turned and found Violet standing at the front of the house watching him. Frowning.

She glared at the mess of scraps and tools around them. “This isn't an appropriate place for a two-week-old baby. You're going to have to make other arrangements or—” She huffed.

Or what?
he wanted to say but didn't dare challenge her in the situation. He'd already come to the same conclusion himself.

“This isn't a normal day,” he said instead. “I'm still juggling, trying to figure out my new schedule with Abigail. I just dropped by to check on the tile delivery.” Mainly, he needed to get through his first full day with a baby.

Today, on four and a half hours of sleep, he'd bought baby equipment and supplies, changed several diapers, fed her two bottles and coaxed three burps. He'd even managed to keep Abigail alive. That victory must count for something.

He probably deserved a medal.

Violet stood looking at him as if he was a nail in one of her four-hundred-dollar tires.

He walked away before he said something rude.

Close on his heels, she followed, her spotless white flip-flops getting mired in mud. He stopped and turned.

Looking at her feet, she didn't notice his sudden change in direction and barreled into him. Slowly, she looked up, frustration flashing in her pretty eyes. “This place is too hazardous for a baby.”

“You're more at risk in your open-toed shoes than a baby is tucked against my chest.” The chest Violet stood literally six inches from. “So did you come just to see if I had Abigail with me?”

“I happened to be out. Saw your truck. Thought I'd stop by and see if she needs anything.”

He narrowed his eyes. “More likely, you wanted to make sure she survived the night.”

She jammed her hands on her khaki-clad hips, a perfect warrior pose, cheeks bright red, sparks of fury in her brownish-green eyes. “Okay, you want the brutal truth? I doubt you're prepared to take care of a baby this young.”

“Ah, so you're capable of honesty after all. Who would've guessed?”

“At least I'm not being nasty, judging you on something I know nothing about.”

Zeb stepped around the corner of the house to see what the commotion was about. Jake waved him off. He didn't need the man asking questions about him and the new pediatrician.

Violet didn't flinch at the interruption. Didn't seem to care they had an audience. She glared at him, ready to battle it out.

He wouldn't back down, either. “Abigail is fine. Check her out if you want.”

The offer knocked her back a step. With an irritated huff, she peeked at the baby. “I see you bought a carrier. And you appear to have it attached correctly.”

“I can read directions, you know.”

She worked her hands around the edges of the fabric, feeling for all Abigail's body parts. “You seem to have her in a good position. She looks comfortable.”

Dr. Crenshaw was so close her hair brushed his chin again. Though he'd expect her to smell like a doctor's office—of sick people and disinfectant—she actually smelled good, like flowers mixed with something fresh and clean.

When she looked up, her eyes met his and widened. The tiny flecks of light gold around her pupils made her look young, vulnerable.

But Violet Crenshaw was not some delicate creature. Hadn't she just proven it by charging into his job site with both barrels loaded?

She cleared her throat and stepped away.

What had made her change from last night, when she'd been helpful? Was it all because he'd yelled to stop a collision and made Abigail cry? He stepped around Violet to head to the truck. “See you around, Doc.”

She looked annoyed that he'd cut her off. But he'd had enough. Tomorrow at church he would find someone else who could help him. Preferably someone who had experience with a colicky child. Someone who didn't have gorgeous legs, who didn't look at him all innocent and vulnerable, twisting his insides into a knot.

Thankfully, the pediatrician didn't go to Jake's church. If all went well with Abigail, he wouldn't have to see Violet again before Remy returned.

* * *

What in the world am I doing?

Meddling.

But that wasn't the whole truth. She was also there as the result of a nudge from her conscience...or maybe from God?

Violet drew in a slow, deep breath the way she usually did to calm and center herself before walking into the room of a new patient. Only today, instead of an exam room, she walked inside the Appleton Community Church.

She'd awakened early, worried about Abigail West and feeling that nudge. After her morning run, she decided maybe it was time to go back to church—to Jake's church. She hadn't attended regularly since high school. Had thought when she moved to Appleton six months ago that she might visit as a way to meet people. But instead, she'd spent her Sunday mornings either doing rounds at the hospital or relaxing and reading the newspaper, afraid God might not welcome her after she'd pushed Him away for so long.

Well, she hoped God would be okay with her returning. And hoped Jake would show up with Abigail so Violet could check on them.

After the way he got defensive yesterday when she asked about the baby, maybe it was time to suggest he find someone else who could offer advice, someone who could help him with child care. Possibly an older teenager or college student in the church or another parent. Surely someone in this congregation would be willing.

Yes, she was definitely meddling. Still, she wouldn't rest until she knew Jake and Abigail were in good hands.

Violet stepped through the door into the back of the sanctuary. The space was small but beautiful. She stopped and admired the colorful stained glass windows depicting parts of the Bible, stories she'd read as a child each night as her mother or, more often, one of the nannies tucked her in.

Having arrived a bit early, Violet found the crowd was sparse. She'd hoped to run into someone she knew. Instead, she glanced around at strangers, her stomach a tense mass of nerves. She didn't really know anyone well in Appleton, although she had met a few people when she attended the church's fund-raising auction for the Food4Kids program back in the spring.

Violet had bid on and won a trip to a lake house that belonged to two local families. She was acquainted with the daughters of one of the owners. Darcy O'Malley worked in the hospital lab, and they had chatted a few times when Violet dropped by the lab on weekends. She'd later met Darcy's sister, Chloe O'Malley, at her clothing boutique, Chloe's Closet. Maybe one of them would show up for the service.

Violet scanned the sanctuary looking for Grace Hunt, a kind grandmotherly woman who had dropped by to welcome Violet to town when she'd moved in. Grace had invited Violet to the church on several occasions, so surely she would be here today.

At least Violet would know someone besides Jake.

“Hello. Welcome.” An elderly man in gray slacks, a navy blazer and a red striped tie approached with his hand extended. “I'm Ted Greer, pastor of the church. You're the new pediatrician, aren't you?”

Shaking his hand, she smiled. “Yes. Violet Crenshaw. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to visit.”

His kind eyes warmed. “We're glad you're here now. Do you work on Sundays?”

“I'm usually on call. I should probably apologize ahead of time. I occasionally may have to leave in the middle of the service.”

“That's no problem at all. We'd love to have you whenever possible. Maybe next week you can come an hour earlier and join us for Bible study and coffee, as well.”

“Oh, okay. I'll consider it.” She wasn't sure she was ready for that, though. Needed to meet a few people first.