Words From The Heart (Spring-Summer Romance Book 2) (2 page)

She gazed at him, silent, then at his daughter. “Now?”

If someone had told her she’d be nursing another man’s child only hours after vowing she’d regain some of her feminine charm, she would have laughed in their face. But settled in the back seat of her car, baby June greedily suckling, she felt as fulfilled as she ever had with her own son. For one thing, Bennett Adams looked like he’d been run through the wringer, and his son didn’t appear much better. This gave them a moment to let the tension go and forget about things.

She noted he hadn’t strayed far though, and she didn’t blame him for that. She was, after all, an unknown in their lives.

For another, much more crying like that and the child would start to fail. She was heartened to hear he had taken her to a doctor, but wondered why he hadn’t gotten more support from somewhere. He hadn’t said, but his wife, she guessed, was barely in the ground. She wondered what had happened, but wasn’t going to ask. Whatever it was, it’d left two children and a father without what they needed to survive.

June’s hands kneaded her flesh, her mouth puckering, and the tears moistening her cheeks gradually dried. Fifteen minutes later, she nodded off, as close to bliss as, Audrey would bet, she’d been in days. Audrey patted her back until she burped, then did her best to refasten her stained blouse with one hand. Standing up, she made her way across the lot to where Bennett and Jeff were seated on the curb, tossing acorns.

He looked up as she approached.

He was in his early forties, if she had to guess, but still handsome. Six foot or so, brown hair cut short, brown eyes flecked with gold, and a day’s growth of beard. It was late in life to start a family. There again, it wasn’t her job to judge. She’d discovered her own life path, so carefully plotted a couple of years ago, had gone far away from where she’d thought it’d be by now.

He stood, dusting his palms. “She looks …”

“Satisfied,” Audrey said, completing his sentence. She smiled. “And I was thinking … if this works out, I’ll do whatever else you need around the house. I can cook and clean. I can tend to Jeff. But … I don’t want you to feel pressured. If in thirty days it’s not working and you want to do something else, then I’ll understand. You can even write something up. You know, a work agreement.”

“Work?” he asked.

What he was thinking right then, she couldn’t tell. She glanced past him for the baby carrier. “I’ll settle her in, and you can give me your phone number and address. In turn, I’ll give you mine. If you’re sure you want to do this, then it’ll take me few hours to pack some stuff.”

He stared, not speaking, and she worried he was going to change his mind. But for some reason she wasn’t sure of, she really wanted this to happen. It was crazy and illogical. She should be preparing to reenter the work force … start socializing again … though she didn’t really have any good friends here. On the other hand, these children needed her, and she was infinitely qualified.

“Here, let me lay her down,” Audrey said. She passed by him, stooping over the carrier to tenderly place the baby. She fastened the buckles, and June made a soft coo.

Straightening, she met eyes with Bennett again.

He held in place, then exhaled. “I don’t know what to do with myself when she’s not crying.”

Audrey didn’t respond, at first, then spoke from her heart, words, she hadn’t thought she’d ever say to anyone. He had, in a way, shared something very personal with her, had basically fallen apart at her feet. She owed him the same trust.

“I thought I’d never get up and feel happy again,” she said. “I mean, what man walks away from his family? But my husband did, divorce papers and all.” She paused. “Your story is much harder than mine, and I’m sorry for that. I simply want to help, however much or little you need me.”

He appeared to argue with himself, then bowed his head, his hand massaging his neck. When he looked up, she almost lost her breath. It’d been a long time since a man had looked at her that way, though she had a feeling Bennett Adams had no idea he’d done so. Nor would she let it go to her head. She’d honor the woman who’d given these children life and keep her perspective where it should be.

“You need my address,” he said. “I’ll put the children in the car first.”

She nodded and trailed after him to an expensive SUV. Whatever Bennett did for a living, he did well to afford a vehicle like that.

He was a number of minutes, fastening the baby seat in, a few more buckling his son. He leaned across the front seat afterward and dug out paper and a pen. On it in slanted scrawl, he penned his name, phone number, and an address.

She took it from him, tucking it into her palm.

He glanced toward June. “How long will she sleep?”

“Several hours. I promise to call before then.”

His face turned to hers once more. His eyes showed relief, but overlaid with doubt … and with that same expression he’d turned to her minutes ago. Loneliness, she decided. He’d spent a great deal of time by himself, so the presence of anyone else, much less a young woman, would spark it.

“You can trust me,” she said. “It’s going to be all right.” She reversed. “I’m going to go. I’ll be seeing you.” She didn’t wait for his response, but hurried to her car. Pulling out of the lot, she spotted him though, right where she’d left him, his eyes on her face.

CHAPTER 2

Her father’s face was a peculiar shade of purple, her mother’s pink and lined with concern, but Audrey was unsure if it was over her dad’s reaction to her news or her own feelings about the matter. Bennett had said he worked with her dad. He hadn’t said they didn’t get along. Then again, why would he lay that on her? He was so beaten down that whatever good or bad relationship he’d had with her father probably hadn’t seemed important.

She knew her father, too. He could be hard and unkind where business was concerned. Being on the edge of retirement hadn’t softened him any. He wanted the i’s dotted and t’s crossed, twice if possible, which made her question what Bennett could have done to upset him this much. It could be infinitely small.

“You will
not
go work for that …”

Her dad spluttered to silence. Her mother reached for him, tugging his arm. “Now, Harold, no need to get so worked up.”

It was too late for that. He was worked up enough it looked like he’d spout steam.

“… and what kind of ‘work’ is that anyway? Surely, something else could be done.”

“Dad, that’s entirely unfair.” Audrey cut him off before he could take that thought further. “You didn’t see him or hear how upset the baby was. She’s maybe three months old, has lost her mother, and isn’t adjusting. He doesn’t have any idea what to do, and if for no other reason, there’s the little boy to consider.”

Her dad made a gobbling noise, as if decent words were stuck in his throat, and she took advantage of the moment to press her point.

“You know the homeowner’s group is about to kick me out anyhow. God forbid, August continue to break their pristine rules. And I’m tired of living in the basement.”

“You’d rather live with a man you don’t know. A man who …”

“Who needs a temporary mother for his children.”

Her dad fell silent, and the cuckoo clock hanging over the mantle clicked terribly loud. Her mother cleared her throat. “It isn’t you being a mother that concerns us, dear. We have every confidence you would do wonderful at it.”

Did they? Looking at her dad, Audrey doubted it.

“But he’s older than you and lonely and grieving …”

What his age had to do with his mental state, Audrey couldn’t figure, but just the same, she understood her mom’s point. It
was
an odd situation. Any girl’s parents ought to show concern. Thinking of Bennett’s expression, she had her own. She wasn’t going to let that stop her from what appeared to be a way out of here though. At age twenty-nine, the last place she’d thought she’d be living was with her parents.

“All the more reason why things will go fine,” she said. “He can deal with his wife’s death without having to worry over his children … and eventually go back to work.”

This was the wrong thing to say because it set her dad off again, spouting descriptions like “dishonest” and “two-timer”. Her mom shut him up. “Sweetheart, we’re reluctant to let our grandson live with someone we don’t …”

“Mom.”

Her mom hushed.

“I am able to take care of my son. This is a man whose children need me. When they don’t anymore, I’ll leave.”

Her mom’s gaze softened. “That’s where you’ve misjudged,” she said. “A child who’s shared your life will forever be a part of you. Your heart will be involved whether you decide it or not.”

Audrey sat there in silence, eye-to-eye with her mom, and a lump lodged in her throat. She swallowed around it, her determination stronger than the emotion that threatened to take over. “I have to risk it.”

Her mom patted her hand then straightened. “Then we’ll help you pack.” She turned aside and headed down the hall, leaving Audrey to face her father.

“Dad …”

His gaze hard, her dad gave a huff, spun in place, and stomped off. Whatever Bennett Adams had done, it must be colossal, and long-standing. But her dad wasn’t going to tell her, and given his mood, she wasn’t about to ask. She had other things to concern herself with right then. There were her things to go through and August’s as well. That’d take all the time she had before June started crying again.

While June slept, Bennett, unsure what to do with himself, paced to and fro in the house, incredibly lost. Wandering from bedroom to bedroom, down the stairs, and through the living room, he then redoubled his steps back the other way. Jeff finally got him to halt, asking him to play cars, and so wadded up on the floor in his son’s room, he spent a good thirty minutes making buzzing noise with his lips.

The doorbell brought him scampering to his feet, his thoughts about Audrey resurfacing.

He’d had this particularly bothersome one as she’d left the library and been struggling with it ever since – he hadn’t mentioned how bad his relationship with her dad was. Thinking on that, the man he’d been, the one that’d caused the rift, not caring who was damaged, was long gone now. Her dad wouldn’t know that, of course. But two years of fighting Beth’s illness, finding hope only to know, at the end, she was going to die, had ripped from him any will to hurt others. For every bad hand he’d dealt someone else, he’d reaped two in return, and the irony of his salvation, Audrey, coming from one of the people he’d angered the most was not lost on him at all.

Reaching the door, he halted, his hand on the knob, surprised by the sudden blast of fear enwrapping his throat. Those same two years had removed a great deal of his confidence. He had a hard time associating with old colleagues, much less a lovely young woman. Maybe she’d keep to herself though, and it wouldn’t be as awkward as he thought.

The doorbell chimed again. Shutting off his thoughts, Bennett opened the door and, on impulse, reached for the suitcase at Audrey’s feet. On her hip, her son, slobber dripping from his chin, crammed a pudgy fist in his mouth and made a spluttery coo. He had her eyes, enormous green pupils, and a fine dusting of auburn hair.

“If he isn’t the cutest baby ever,” Bennett said. “Next to mine, of course.”

Audrey smiled wide. “I hear that a lot. And he’s the sweetest, too. Rarely ever fusses. Loves to sleep. Loves to eat more.” She glanced behind. “I have more stuff in my back seat and my trunk.”

Bennett snapped awake. “Here … let me show you to your room, and I’ll come back down and get the rest.”

Audrey, however, stood in place, her brow wrinkling. “Is June …?”

“Still asleep. After six weeks of crying, I guess getting what she wanted finally did her in.” What she wanted. His gaze strayed inadvertently to Audrey’s breasts. He’d tried not to look earlier, taking Jeff a fair distance off. But he had pleasant memories of Beth nursing their son, and being frank, it’d given her a certain amount of poise he’d found extremely sexy.

He looked up. He had no right to think that now.

He lifted the suitcase and reversed, pushing the door open further. Nodding toward the stairs, Bennett climbed to the second floor landing and angled across to the guest room. He set her things at the end of the bed and revolved. “I hope the room is big enough.”

Audrey glanced around, her eyes huge. “Big? It’s enormous. August and I have been crammed in a ten-by-twelve square … only not that large because the washing machine takes up part of the space.”

Bennett rolled that over in his head. That explained her eagerness to take the job.

Job? He had a hard time thinking of this as a paying position, nor did he have any idea what salary was fair. Perhaps, he should make some phone calls. He shook his thoughts free. “The nursery is connected through a Jack-and-Jill bath.” He indicated a doorway with a jerk of his chin. “Jeff’s room is across the hall.”

As if on cue, his son appeared behind Audrey, a car curled in his fist. Seeing him, she turned in place and knelt. “Hey … you remember me?”

Jeff nodded, unspeaking.

“I’m going to stay here a while and help your sister not cry. Is that okay?”

His son didn’t respond, but switched his gaze to August. She turned the baby around on her knee. “This is August,” she said.

Jeff pursed his lips. “Does he cry, too?”

Bennett wanted to laugh at the innocence of his son’s question, but couldn’t find it in him.

“Oh, sometimes,” Audrey said, “but not very often. And you know what? He’s pretty fun to play with. You can be his friend.” She returned to her feet.

Friend. Bennett’s gaze trailed across her face, down the length of her neck, to a trim waist and shapely hips. He’d be glad to have June’s crying under control, to see health and joy back on his daughter’s face. The subsequent relief to himself and his son went without saying.

But how did Audrey Ferguson fit into their lives? As a friend? Her son appeared to be good-natured … like his mother, he suspected. But what about the woman herself?

He was stupid to not consider the ramifications, especially in light of his recent erratic emotions. He’d learned a lot through Beth’s sickness – that he wasn’t as strong as he’d thought he was, that he could cry like a small child at times, that he didn’t always have a solution. And he’d forgotten so much – what “normal” felt like, how to look forward to the future, but greatest of all, what it meant to be a man. The road uphill, reclaiming his existence, was sure to be full of detours and potholes. How did this beautiful, young woman fit into that?

“Okay,” Jeff said, “but he sure slobbers a lot.”

Audrey laughed, the sound so rare in Bennett’s ears that he leapt in place.

Her brow furrowed. “You all right?” she asked.

No. He missed his wife and wondered what she’d say about this. What would Beth think of the woman he’d invited to fill her place? And was that even possible, or had he taken on more than he could handle?

All of this had happened so suddenly, no prior planning, no time to mull it over first, that Audrey knew it’d hit her at some point how much she’d taken on. She felt the pinch trying to unpack her things. What with watching August and anticipating June’s cries, she was slow to accomplish anything and incredibly distracted. In the end, she had only half an hour before she had to stop and tend to the baby.

Leaving everything in disarray, she settled August on a blanket at her feet, his happy smile slathered around one of his toys, and took a seat in a rocking chair beneath the window. June latched onto her breast, eager, her wide eyes staring upward.

Eyes so much like Bennett’s, but facial features that must be his wife’s.

Audrey mourned for the children’s loss, and for Bennett’s, but couldn’t help but compare that feeling to her husband’s betrayal. He’d chosen to walk away, to miss his son’s upbringing, and to her, that was unforgiveable.

A masculine shadow in the hallway lifted her gaze, one hand dug deep in his hair. Adjusting to
not
having to take so much care of his children, she suspected, would be more difficult than Bennett thought. Probably, the continued stress and lack of time to properly grieve had taken a toll on his reactions to everything.

“She’s fine,” she called. “We’ll come out afterward.”

His shadow stayed in place for another minute then faded in the direction it’d risen from.

June nursed for another ten minutes, popping free, her mouth parted, and Audrey turned her over her shoulder, patting softly, then settled her in her crib long enough to refasten her blouse. She contemplated how to tote both babies downstairs and opted to use June’s car seat, August on one hip. But it was messy and lacking finesse.