Wife and Mother Wanted (10 page)

‘It’s Molly.’ His voice shook and tears shimmered in his eyes, compelling her to breach the short distance between them and lay a comforting hand on his arm. ‘There’s been an accident. I have to go.’

Carissa didn’t push him for details, nor did she budge. He probably wanted her to get out of the car after their discussion, but there was no way that was going to happen. She loved Molly, and wanted to see for herself that the little darling would be all right.

‘Come on, then. Let’s go,’ she said, snapping her safety belt in place and silently praying that fate hadn’t been so cruel as to rob Brody of another female he loved.

‘D
ADDY
!’ Molly opened her arms as Brody ran into the ER cubicle, his heart in his mouth.

No matter how much Daisy had reassured him over the phone that his precious little girl was okay, he’d hardly been able to breathe on the way over, his mind conjuring up all sorts of nasty visions of Molly lying bruised and battered. Or worse. And he’d dredged up a host of memories that left him reeling to this day.

Memories of how he’d got the call-out four years ago—how he’d first come upon the mangled wreckage of the red Ford SUV on the highway, how he’d thought the car so similar to Jackie’s and how his heart had been ripped out when he’d caught sight of his wife’s lifeless head lolling on the headrest, her vacant eyes staring heavenward, to where he hoped she now rested peacefully.

Memories were the pits, and he’d sworn over his wife’s dead body that he would protect their daughter with every fibre of his being.

So much for promises.

He’d been out having the time of his life with another
woman when he should have been keeping his promise to Jackie.

‘Are you okay, munchkin?’ He enveloped Molly in his arms and buried his face in her neck, inhaling the smell that was uniquely hers—a combination of raspberry bubble bath, strawberry shampoo and sweet little girl.

She squirmed in his arms and he released her, holding onto her hand with the intention of never letting go. ‘Uh-huh. But my head hurts. See? I’ve got sewing up there and everything.’

He winced at the sight of several stitches along her forehead, near the hairline, and the large, purplish lump that accompanied them.

‘Jessie and I were playing hide and seek and I hid under a table, but when she found me I ran out and hit my head. Jess is my bestest friend, and it’s not her fault, so can I still play with her when I’m all better? Please, Daddy? Can I?’

Molly stared up at him with saucer-like blue eyes so like her mother’s, and though he’d grown immune to Jackie’s similar ploys to wheedle something out of him early in their marriage, he was a push-over when it came to their daughter.

‘Sure, sweetheart. It was an accident, and when you’re feeling better you can play with Jessie again.’

‘Yippee!’ Molly clapped her hands together twice before tears filled her eyes and she held a hand up to her head. ‘Ouch. My head hurts, Daddy. Can you make the pain go away?’

Swallowing to dislodge the tennis-ball-sized lump of emotion lodged in his throat, he said, ‘You bumped your head, munchkin, that’s why it hurts. If you rest and have some medicine, the pain will go away.’

‘Promise?’

Once again Molly’s big blue eyes beseeched him, the shimmer of tears reaching a fist into his gut and twisting till he could hardly see straight.

He nodded and smoothed a few wispy strands of hair from her cheeks. ‘You shut your eyes for now, and it will all be better in the morning.’

‘Don’t leave me, Daddy,’ she murmured, her eyes fluttering with fatigue as she battled sleep.

‘I’ll be right here, sweetheart.’ He dropped a light kiss on her cheek before tucking the sheet around her as she slipped into slumber. He stepped just outside the cubicle.

‘Is she okay?’ Carissa flew to his side and grabbed hold of his arm as soon as he emerged.

He nodded and rubbed a hand over his face, wondering if he’d ever grow used to the monstrous responsibility of fatherhood. He cherished every minute with Molly, and now just when he’d thought he had a handle on the constant fear that one day she’d be taken from him, this happened.

The fear was always there, a faithful companion that never left his side, and with it came the knowledge that whatever choices he made in his life, whatever he did, it all came back to the little girl lying on the bed behind this hospital curtain.

He would have to do better, that was all.

And being distracted by thoughts of anything more than friendship with the beautiful woman hanging onto his arm this very minute was not helping.

Shrugging off Carissa’s hand, he said, ‘She’ll be fine. The doc said it’s a mild concussion. Once she’s slept it off and the stitches heal she’ll be all right.’

‘Thank God.’ Carissa stepped back from him, and he hated the hurt he glimpsed in her eyes—and the fact that he’d put it there.

She’d been amazing tonight—listening to him, supporting him, making him realise that there was a life for him to lead. She genuinely cared about other people, particularly kids, and her dressing-down about how he’d been neglecting Molly was an indication of that.

Deep down, he knew she was right. He never bought Molly little surprises, like the hair bows or the bracelet, and he knew he avoided talking about Jackie with their daughter.

However, he couldn’t handle it now. He needed to focus on Molly, and he sure as hell didn’t need Carissa hanging around to remind him of how great she was, or what he’d be missing out on by stomping on any possibility of a relationship between them.

For, as much as he’d decided to start living again, he knew now wasn’t the time. Molly’s accident tonight had been a sign. He had to focus on his daughter, repair the damage he’d done by not paying her enough attention. Only then could he move forward to a future for himself.

‘Here.’ He fished the car keys from his pocket and tossed them to her. ‘You take my car. I’m spending the night here.’

She caught the keys in a reflex reaction and stared at them as if she’d never seen the bits of metal before.

‘You sure everything’s okay?’ Her gaze sought his, seeking reassurance he couldn’t give.

In fact, he couldn’t give her much at all right now.

‘Molly is fine; I’m fine,’ he snapped, feeling like a jerk when she flinched.

But maybe that was a good thing? If he pushed her away now, shattered the illusion of close camaraderie that had developed over the last few hours—no, over the last few months, if he were completely honest with himself—surely she’d take the hint that they couldn’t share anything more?

The theory was good—though in practice, with the woman he’d grown exceedingly fond of staring at him as if he’d morphed into a monster, he softened his stance.

‘Look, thanks for being here, but I need to be alone with Molly right now. You should go home.’

‘Okay.’ She shrugged and turned away, but not before he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

Hell.

But he was doing this for her own good. He had nothing to give her—not now, perhaps not ever. Molly was his number one priority, and tonight’s drama reinforced that.

Though making a woman cry wasn’t his style, and he hated the feeling gnawing at his gut that he’d disappointed her in some way.

‘Carissa?’

‘Yes?’ She spun around so quickly that it took every ounce of will-power not to drag her into his arms and cradle her close.

‘Thank you.’

He’d intended to plant a brief, impersonal kiss on her cheek, but she turned her head at the last second and his lips landed on hers, their pliant softness enticing him to linger longer than necessary. And for one sweet moment he was happy to prolong the contact, to lose himself in the possibility of what might be.

Before reality crashed in, fuelled by hospital sounds—which included a crying child. He pulled away, sent her a brief nod and moved back inside Molly’s cubicle, intent on fulfilling his parental responsibility at the expense of his heart.

The next evening, Carissa glanced out of her front window repeatedly, waiting for a sign of life at the Elliott household. Brody had arrived home with Molly around two and carried her into the house, the little girl clutching a giant teddy bear almost as big as herself, and it had taken all her will-power not to rush over to the house and see if Molly was okay.

However, she didn’t want to intrude, and had thrown herself into a baking frenzy, making enough choc-peppermint friands, brownies and lemon slices to feed half the town. Besides, Brody had made it more than clear last night that he didn’t need her, let alone want her around, and she wanted to give father and daughter some breathing space—just as he’d asked.

At six o’clock the front door at the Elliotts’ opened and Molly stuck her head out, the white bandage on her forehead glowing like a beacon in the rays of the setting sun.

That was all the encouragement Carissa needed to grab the box of brownies she’d packed earlier and all but run across the lawn towards Molly.

‘Carissa! Look at my head. It’s all banged up.’ Molly proudly pointed to her forehead and Carissa tried not to grimace as she spied the size of the purple lump poking out from the bottom of the bandage.

‘Yes, I can see that. How are you feeling, sweetie?’

‘Much better. Daddy brought me a teddy who has a bandage on his head too, so I can look after him and he can look after me.’

‘That’s good.’
Where is your daddy?
She wanted to ask, but bit her tongue. The way she was feeling right now, Brody was the last person she wanted to see.

He’d hurt her badly, when she’d promised herself she wouldn’t let any man do that to her again. Stupidly, she’d been so busy telling herself she didn’t want a relationship that she’d forgotten how addictive being friends with a guy could be—especially one as sexy as her neighbour. She’d opened her heart to him as a friend, and had it broken by him when she’d finally acknowledged he meant so much more to her than that.

‘Are those for me?’ Molly’s eyes grew wide as she pointed to the candy-striped box tied with red ribbon in Carissa’s hands.

‘Uh-huh. Brownies just for you.’

‘Oh, boy!’ Molly rubbed her tummy with one hand while reaching for the box with the other. ‘I bet brownies are real good for sore heads.’

Carissa laughed and bent down to hug Molly, thankful that the little girl seemed unharmed apart from the egg-sized bump on her forehead.

‘Hey, Carissa.’

The door swung open fully and Brody stepped out onto the porch, dark rings of fatigue circling his eyes, his hair uncombed and a five o’clock shadow bristling along his jaw. He looked like hell, and all she wanted to do was wrap her arms around him and comfort him. But she couldn’t. In fact, she probably wouldn’t get the opportunity to get as close to him as she had last night ever again.

If he didn’t want her spending time with Molly he sure wouldn’t want her anywhere near
him
, and the injustice of it all ravaged her anew.

‘Hi, Brody. I just came over to drop some brownies off and to see how Molly’s doing.’

‘Brownies are good for sore heads, aren’t they, Daddy?’ Molly clutched the box as if it contained the Crown Jewels, looking to her father with a cheeky grin on her face as if daring him to disagree.

‘They sure are,’ he said, winking at Molly and dropping a kiss on top of her head.

‘Thanks,’ he said, resting a hand on Molly’s shoulder, the icy distance she’d glimpsed in his eyes at the hospital last night replaced by a wary warmth.

‘No problems. I’ll leave you to it.’

‘Thanks, Carissa. Daddy said I can go to school tomorrow—and he’s going to work.’

Work?
Since when did Brody have a job? And why hadn’t he told her about it over dinner?

Perhaps he was too busy fielding your other personal questions—like how did his wife die and did he still love her?

He’d answered both questions. The first with words, the second with actions. It didn’t take an Einstein to figure out why he’d pushed her away at the hospital. If the guy had guilt issues about being responsible for his wife’s death, it would be nothing on how guilty he’d feel after kissing her.

Carissa had practically invited that kiss, and any hot-blooded male would have responded. However, Brody wasn’t just any male. He was a guy so in love with his dead wife’s memory that he hadn’t been out in four
years—had shut himself away from the world and pushed away anyone who came too close. And with that kiss, with their developing friendship, she’d obviously got way too close.

‘You’ve found a job?’

‘Yeah. Molly, why don’t you take those brownies inside and I’ll be in soon?’

‘Okay, Daddy. Thanks for the brownies, Carissa. Bye.’

‘Bye, sweetie. See you soon.’ But sadly she wouldn’t. Not if Brody had his way.

‘Must be some job if you can’t talk about it in front of Molly.’

‘She looks tired. I don’t want her spending too much time out here the way she’s feeling.’

Oh-oh. Looks like Molly’s accident has notched up Brody’s over-protectiveness
. Carissa hoped he wouldn’t take her advice too literally. Molly needed more attention, not smothering.

‘So what’s the job?’

‘Daisy suggested I put some of my old training to use and open up a project for kids. Sort of like a careers counsellor, big brother kind of thing—a place where local kids can just hang out, play a bit of sport, have a chat if they need to. It’s in the early stages, but I’m pretty excited about it.’

‘That’s great. This town has needed something like that for ages—especially for the teenagers. Most of them hang out at the skateboard ramp looking bored.’

He shrugged off her admiration as if it meant little. ‘I’ve seen what boredom can do to kids. Some of them run away and end up in all sorts of nasty situations. I
worked the King’s Cross beat in Sydney in my rookie year, and what I saw wasn’t pretty, so I’ve had an interest ever since. I even did a social work course part-time—just so I could get a handle on what these kids think, what they go through. Looks like it’ll come in handy now.’

While she couldn’t help but admire his crusade, a small part of her couldn’t ignore the fact that he had a child of his own at home—a needy child who could do with a little more of her father’s attention.

‘Sounds like you’ll have your hands full. Good luck with it.’

‘Thanks.’

An awkward silence ensued, and Carissa missed the easygoing camaraderie of the previous evening. As far as she could see Brody was getting his life back on track: new town, new job, renewed enthusiasm. Pity he couldn’t go the whole way and dim the torch he still held for his wife.

‘Okay. I guess I’ll be seeing you.’

‘Yeah. See you.’