CHAPTER THREE
Luke caught her and set her on her feet.
She winced as pain shot up her leg. A lump the size of an egg had already formed on her ankle.
“You’re hurt,” Luke said.
“I’m sure it’s nothing,” she said through gritted teeth.
“It’s probably a sprain,” he said as he scooped her up into his arms as easily as he would Jamison. “They can hurt worse than a fracture. We’ll need to get it looked at.”
The crowd gathered around Uncle Theo’s ladder turned their attention to her. She flushed beneath all of their stares. Paige glared at her.
“Please put me down,” she hissed at Luke, uncomfortably aware of his body heat and afraid that everyone in his family could see her reaction to him.
He just shook his head and carried her up the porch steps and through the kitchen, and gently set her down on the sofa. He slipped off her shoe. The lump on her ankle had already doubled in size.
Sophie battled tears brought on by not only pain, but also helplessness. How could she take care of a baby and a puppy with a twisted ankle?
Luke knelt beside her and propped her foot onto the sofa. “We need to get you to a doctor.”
“It’s Sunday,” she told him.
“The emergency room is open.”
She shook her head. “It’s too expensive. But we can probably see Aidan. He has an X-ray machine.”
Luke scowled and looked as if he wanted to argue, but after a moment he nodded and pulled out his phone. “Do you have his number?”
She told him the number and waited while he dialed. Then she held out her hand. “Let me talk to him.”
#
“It’s a sprain,” Aidan confirmed as he ran his hands over Sophie’s legs. “A pretty bad one. You’ll need to stay off of it for probably at least a week.”
“A week!” Sophie wailed. “But it’s almost Christmas. I’ve a ton of things to do.”
“Like what?” Luke asked.
“Get a Christmas tree, take Jamison to meet Santa, help at the toy drive.”
“I can do all those things,” Luke said.
“I can help,” Aidan put in.
Luke pulled in a deep breath and tried to tamp down his frustration. The sooner he got Sophie home, the better. Sitting on the examination table built for small animals, she didn’t look any more comfortable than he felt. Although he had to admit that was probably for different reasons.
“And these will help, too,” Aidan said, going to a cupboard and pulling out a small bottle of painkillers.
Sophie read the label. “If I can’t drive or handle machinery, how am I supposed to care for a baby and a puppy?”
“I’ll take care of the puppy,” Aidan said.
“And I’ll take care of Jamie,” Luke said.
Sophie let out a shuddering breath.
Luke slipped an arm around her shoulders and another beneath her knees. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“Where’s Jamison now?” Aidan asked.
“My sister has him,” Luke told him. “She’s bringing him to Sophie’s house.” He glanced at his watch. “She’s probably there now. She needs to head back to school.”
Aidan looked as if he wanted to protest as Luke carried Sophie out the door of the vet’s office, but he just stood at the window and watched Luke place Sophie in the front seat of his SUV.
“I can’t let you take Jamison,” she told Luke as soon as he settled in behind the wheel.
He leveled a glance at her. “So what do you suggest? Because, to be honest, my barn is barely habitable. I’m pretty much camping there.” He waited, and a thick silence formed between them. “This is where you invite me to stay at your house so I can take care of Jamison.”
“I don’t think that’s a good plan!” Her cheeks flamed pink and her eyes turned bright.
“Do you have a better one?”
“I’ll think of one.”
“How often does Jamie wake up during the night? How will you get him a bottle? I assume his crib is upstairs.”
She nodded.
“So how will you get him up and down the stairs?”
“Maybe Liz knows someone from the church I can hire…”
“You’d rather have a stranger move into your house and care for your nephew than let me do it?”
“Don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like I’m a terrible person.” Her lip trembled and her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Luke swallowed hard, put the SUV in gear and rolled down Main Street. “I don’t think you’re a terrible person. Anything but. You’ve been amazing these past few months. Right now, I can think of very few people I admire more than you. You’ve been incredible with Jamie. But I want to help. Please, let me help you.” He glanced at her when they stopped at a street light.
She bit her lip. “Okay, I guess you can stay in the downstairs guestroom. I use it as my office, but there’s also a bed in there.”
Luke revved the engine and pointed the SUV to the Jordan River Highway. He didn’t want to argue with her, but she had to realize that she was the one who needed to be downstairs. “How many bedrooms are upstairs?”
“There’s three, but one was Chloe’s studio.” She paused for a long moment. “I haven’t cleaned it out yet.”
He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “That’s understandable.”
“I’ve been meaning to…”
“I get it.”
“Do you?” Her voice broke. “Chloe was all I had. I know you lost Matt, but you still have Mia, your aunt and uncle and bunches of cousins.”
Luke thought about mentioning her dad and stepmother, but decided against it when he saw the glistening tears on her cheeks.
“You’re not alone, Sophie,” he said softly.
She sniffed.
“Listen, if you really feel uncomfortable with my staying with you, I can call Liz and see if we can make other arrangements…”
“No, you’re right. It’s just…”
He wanted to hold her and make the promises that six months ago he wouldn’t have been able to keep. “The next few days will be hard, but we’ll get through it.” He shot her another quick glance. “But you’ll have to let me sleep upstairs.” He poked her thigh with his finger. “You need to be downstairs.”
She swallowed. “You’re probably right.”
“Now, what do you want for dinner? Should we stop at the store and pick something up?”
#
It felt wrong to be sitting on the sofa with her leg propped up on a pillow while Luke and Paige puttered around her kitchen.
Mia sat on the rug beside Jamison. Although Sophie had only had Atticus for a day, she already felt his absence.
“Luke’s a great cook,” Mia told Sophie. “You won’t be hungry while he stays with you.”
Paige stomped into the dining room carrying a salad. After placing it on the table, she shoved a pair of tongs into it.
“I guess Paige is ready to head back?” Sophie asked when the blonde disappeared into the kitchen.
“It makes sense for us to eat first,” Mia said before she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Her knickers are twisted, because she doesn’t want Luke to stay with you.”
“It’s not like that. There’s nothing between me and Luke.”
“Yeah, but there’s not much between her and Luke either… That’s what’s twisting.”
“You can tell her she doesn’t need to worry. Did you know that the first time Luke met me he called me a sofa?”
Mia laughed long and hard.
“To be fair, I was a lot heavier in high school.”
“Still, that had to hurt.”
“Back then, everything hurt.”
Mia climbed to her feet. “Is it true, Luke? Did you really call Sophie a sofa?”
Luke emerged from the kitchen carrying a large pot of tomato basil soup. Paige trailed after him with a roll of French bread on a platter.
“She wasn’t supposed to hear me,” Luke said. “I was a kid. And stupid.”
“Well, no one would call you a sofa now,” Mia said.
“What happened? Did you go to Weight Watchers or something?” Paige asked.
“No. My mother died.”
“Was she a good cook?” Paige asked.
“It was stress induced. I also lost a lot of my hair.”
Paige pressed her lips together.
“It was really hard on me, too, when my grandmother died,” Mia said.
“I don’t want to talk about people dying anymore,” Paige said. “It gives me the creeps.” She plopped down in a chair at the table and watched Luke with narrowed eyes while he ladled up a bowl of soup, placed a fat slice of bread on a plate, and dished up a large serving of salad. “Are you trying to return her to sofa status?” Paige asked as Luke carried the plate to Sophie.
He dropped to one knee before Sophie and held out the plate and bowl to her. “Will you ever forgive me for calling you a sofa? It was mean, and I was young and dumb.”
“Will I still get the food if I say no?” Sophie asked.
“Yes, but I really hope you’ll say yes, too.”
Sophie scooted to a more upright position before taking the food from Luke. “I’ll have to think about it.”
She tried not to feel left out while the others, including Jamison, sat around the dining room table eating. Even after telling herself that she ate alone ninety percent of the time, the feeling of exclusion still wouldn’t go away. The painkillers she’d taken earlier combined with the warm meal made her heavy and lethargic. The conversation in the dining room centered around people she didn’t know, and after a few spoonfuls of the delicious soup, she gave in to sleep.
#
With his sister and her friend gone, the house turned eerily quiet. While Sophie slept on the sofa, Jamie gazed at him with big blue eyes and gnawed on a piece of bread.
Now what? He really wanted to wake Sophie and ask her for instructions, but she looked so beautiful and peaceful, he couldn’t do it. Her phone lay on the coffee table and it gave him an idea. He carried it and Jamie into the kitchen.
“Liz,” he said when she answered. “It’s me, Luke Mason.”
“Luke? Why are you calling me on Sophie’s phone?”
He explained the situation. “And now she’s asleep and I don’t know what to do with Jamie.”
“Do you want me to come over?”
“No! I don’t want her to know—or to think—I can’t handle this.” He paused. “Just tell me what to do.”
“Has Jamie had his bath?”
“Bath?”
“Then bottle and bed.”
“Bath, bottle, bed,” he repeated.
“Can you find the bottles?”
He opened cupboards and drawers until he found the bottles, nipples, and formula. “Hey,” he said. “The formula has instructions!”
Liz laughed. “Oh yeah, she always reads him Goodnight Moon and sings to him before she puts him down.”
“Sings to him?” he echoed. “Like what?”
“I don’t know its name, something about pretty horses.”
“Ah...I don’t know that one.”
Everything he didn’t know about taking care of a child sat heavy on his mind and shoulders as he carried Jamie upstairs for his bath.
#
Sophie woke to the sound of running water and peals of laughter. She ran her tongue over her teeth, hating the dry horrible taste in her mouth. Pushing herself up, she winced in pain when she tried to move her leg. Clenching her jaw, she moved through the pain, and hopped on one foot to the bottom of the stairs. Then, using the wall as a brace, she slowly made her way up the flight of stairs.
Lavender-scented steam rolled out of the bathroom. Luke knelt beside the old-fashioned claw-footed tub. He’d taken off his shirt and had bubbles up to his elbows. Jamison, covered in froth, looked like a white-haired Santa Claus. The baby pounded his fists into the bubbles and laughed as he splashed Luke in the face.
Sophie leaned against the doorjamb, watching.
Luke must have felt her presence, because he turned her way. “Hey,” he said. “You’re not supposed to be up here.”
“I need my pajamas and toothbrush,” she told him.
“I would have gotten them for you.”
“There are some things a girl likes to do for herself.” The thought of Luke going through her pajama drawer sent waves of panic through her.
Jamison squealed as he again splashed Luke.
“That’s it,” Luke said, his voice thick with laughter. “Bath time is over.” He put Jamison on his hip, soaking the waistband of his pants, and pulled a towel off the rack.
“He likes the ducky towel.” Sophie reached around him and tugged a white hooded towel with a large orange beak sewn onto it out of the cupboard.
“Did he tell you that?” Luke asked, taking the towel from her hand and rubbing the baby dry.
“You’re doing it wrong,” she told him and she showed him how the towel fit around Jamison’s small wet body. “Want me to take him?”
“No. You can barely stand on one foot. I got this.”
“Do you know where his diapers are?”
“Huh, no.”
Wordlessly, she jumped on one foot into Jamison’s room and pulled a clean diaper out of a basket and handed it to Luke. “Pajamas are in the top drawer.”
She started to say something when he pulled out a blue cotton onesie, but stopped herself.
“What?” he asked. “He doesn’t like these pajamas?”
“It’s not important.”
“No, tell me.”
“Well, it’s just I’d dress him in something warmer.”
He nodded. “Good point.”
She watched in silence as the half-naked Luke dressed Jamison.
“Maybe now that you’re here, you could sing the pony song,” he said.
“It’s the horse song,” she said. “And did he tell you about that?”
“No. Liz. She’s been coaching me.”
“She coached me, too, at first.”
He shot her a surprised glance. “I’m surprised you needed coaching.”
“Of course. I don’t know how to be a mom.”
“I would never guess that. You make it look easy.”
“Well, it’s not. Not at all.”
“I believe you,” he said as he placed Jamison in the crib.
Jamison began to howl.
“I’ll stay with him while you get him a bottle,” Sophie said.
Luke slapped his forehead. “Of course! The bottle.”
“He likes it warm, but not too warm,” she told him as she limped into the room to stand by Jamison’s crib. She patted the baby on the back, wishing she could pick him up to comfort him while Luke headed for the kitchen.
#
Luke took his time making the bottle, enjoying the sound of Sophie’s song floating through the floorboards. She didn’t have a classical soprano, but he found her voice entrancing. Slowly, he made his way upstairs. As he’d feared, she ended the song as soon as he entered the room. She sat in an old-fashioned oak rocker with Jamie curled under her breast.
Jamie held out his hands as soon as he saw Luke. For a breathtaking moment, Luke thought the baby was asking for him, but then he realized Jamie only wanted his bottle.
Sophie took it from him, presumably to hand it to Jamie, but also, Luke was pretty sure, to check its temperature. She didn’t trust him. Yet. But she would.
Jamie, snuggled in Sophie’s arms, slurped on his bottle while Sophie rocked him to sleep. A distant memory tugged at the fringes of Luke’s mind. He tried to pull it out, but he couldn’t. His parents had died in a private plane crash before he’d started kindergarten and his memories of them were mostly from photographs, still framed shots, despite the fact there were also videos and home movies. Mia looked like his mom. He and Matt had taken after their dad in looks as well as temperament. All three had relished adventure to the point of recklessness. The difference between Luke and his dad and brother had been that Luke had nothing to lose. Matt’s death had seemed so pointless—almost as if he hadn’t learned from their father’s mistake.
“He’s asleep,” Sophie whispered.
Luke pulled himself out of his bitter thoughts. “Let me get him,” he said before Sophie could try to stand on her bad ankle. His hands brushed against her breasts as he lifted Jamie into his arms.
“On his back or front?” he asked.
She seemed thrown off balance by his question. “Oh, his back,” she said after a small hesitation. “He sleeps on his back,” she repeated.
“What about a blanket?”
She shook her head. “He doesn’t use one. It makes him less likely to suffocate.”
He put the baby in the crib, and Jamie flung his arms back like a football referee signaling a goal. He did not look comfortable. “Now what?”
“Now we turn on the white noise.” She flipped on a tiny device on the dresser. “And we turn out the light.”
She limped across the room.
“Let me help you,” he said.
“I’m good,” she said, although she had pale gray shadows beneath her eyes.
Luke silently cursed, and scooped her up in his arms. “Stop being so heroic.” He carried her into the bathroom.
She struggled briefly, but Luke tightened his grip. “What are we doing in here?” she asked.
“We’re getting your toothbrush.”
She nodded, pulled open the medicine cabinet, and retrieved her toothbrush and toothpaste.
“Don’t you floss?”
She bit back a grin and found the floss. “Can you put me down now?”
“Not until we get your pajamas.” He wheeled around the tiny hall and made his way into the bedroom dominated by a king-size bed. “This doesn’t look like something my brother would sleep in.”
“I replaced the bedding,” Sophie told him. “It is, I guess, a little girly.”
This was the one room in his brother’s house that looked like Sophie. The walls were a softy gray, the bedding was white lace topped with pastel pink and green throw pillows. It even smelled of her.
“You’ll want to change the sheets if you’re going to sleep in here,” she said. “They’re in there.” She nodded at a hall closet.
He took her to the closet. Each sheet set was carefully folded and bundled together with a piece of ribbon. It occurred to him that she probably kept everything in her physical life so neatly organized and compartmentalized in a way that she couldn’t with her emotional life. She pulled out a set of cream-colored sheets that smelled of lavender and balanced them on the curve of her belly. “Are you going to put me down now?”
“Pajamas,” he said.
“Back in there.”
A row of silver-framed photographs lined the top of the dresser. He promised himself he would look at each of them more closely after Sophie was tucked into the guest bedroom. There were several pictures of her with Chloe and her parents. Thinking of all she’d lost made him hold her tighter.
She pulled open the dresser and selected a pink and black striped nightgown. It wasn’t the one he wanted to choose, but he kept his opinions to himself. He walked down the stairs without saying a word and took Sophie into the guestroom.
“This is weird,” she said. “It’s all backward. I should be sleeping up there and you down here.”
“This will be better,” he told her. “It’ll be easier for me to hear and help Jamie when he wakes.” He set her down on the bed.
“I don’t know what we would have done without you,” she said.
But he knew that wasn’t true. She’d been doing things on her own for such a long time that she didn’t even know how much she needed him.
Or how much he needed and wanted her.
#
Sophie woke to screaming. She’d been dreaming of a snow-filled field, a brittle blue sky, a sleigh pulled by a pair of Clydesdales, and she minded the interruption. At first, she thought the screaming belonged in her otherwise idyllic dream, but slowly she realized it came from the rooms upstairs.
She bolted from the bed, momentarily forgetting her worthless ankle, and landed hard on the floor. Cursing, she pulled herself up. Worry soon overtook frustration. She made it up the stairs as quickly as she could and pushed through Jamison’s door.
Sometime during the night, he had turned onto his tummy and now he lay with one cheek pressed against the sheet, his lips parted in a perfect rose, his eyes closed, and his bum pointed in the air. The screaming came from the next room. She closed the door with a fast click, worried Luke’s nightmare might wake the baby.
She hesitated before she opened her own bedroom door. What if he was naked? He hadn’t brought pajamas with him. He’d been nearly naked when he’d carried around earlier. She flushed with the memory of being pressed against his warm bare chest.
His screams intensified and so did Sophie’s indecision. What if it wasn’t a nightmare? What if an intruder was pulling out his toenails? Seemed unlikely, of course, but… She mustered some courage and pushed into the room.
Moonlight streamed through the window and cast the room in gray shadows. Luke writhed on the twisted sheets, his face red and glistening with sweat. Sophie switched on the light, hoping that would wake him.
It didn’t.