Barbara Freethy - Some Kind Of Wonderful (14 page)

BOOK: Barbara Freethy - Some Kind Of Wonderful
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"Me? Get carried away? I wouldn't dream of it."
*  *  *
"How long has it been since you've eaten?" Jonathan asked Sarah as she
pushed her empty plate away. She'd shoveled the food down as if she
were afraid it would disappear before she'd had enough.
She looked guilty at his question and mumbled, "A while."
"It's okay, you know. Everyone gets hungry. We all need to eat." He
rested his elbows on the white
linen tablecloth covering his dining
room table. "What else do you need, Sarah? Besides food?"
A dozen emotions flitted through her eyes in the seconds that followed
his question. Finally, she shook her head, hopelessness settling over
her face.
"Who hurt you?" He knew his question was abrupt, but he had a feeling
giving Sarah too much time to think would be a mistake.
"I—I can"t tell you."
"Just a first name."
She considered his words thoughtfully, and he realized he'd never met
anyone so intensely serious and
so desperately sad, for there was pain
in her eyes, in every movement of her mouth, every tiny flicker
of her
eyelids. He had a feeling the sadness had come before the bruises.
"Gary," she said abruptly.
"And who is Gary to you? A boyfriend? A husband?" His eyes drifted to
her hand, but there was no ring on her finger and no indication that
there ever had been one. He couldn't stop the sudden tingle of relief
that ran through him. He forced himself to remember that this wasn't
personal, this was business, his business. Sarah was simply a lost soul
he needed to save.
Sarah appeared confused by his question. In fact, she looked downright
dazed. Not for the first time, he prayed that she wasn't on drugs. In
his experience the power of the Lord couldn't always overcome the power
of narcotics.
"He said he loved me."'
"Violence isn't love," Jonathan said gently.
"Gary didn't hit me before. He just got so mad when I said I couldn't—"
She stopped abruptly.
"It doesn't matter."
"What couldn't you do?"
"Nothing."
"It had to be something important." He paused, waiting for her to
continue, but she remained silent.
"Do you ever pray?"
"No."
"Really? Not even once in a while, just in case someone might hear
you?" He smiled at her reassuringly. "I won't get mad either way, I'm
just curious."
"A long time ago I used to pray, but no one was listening."
"I'm listening now, if you want to talk."
She remained silent for so long he was about to give up when she
finally spoke, slowly, haltingly. "Gary said I was a bad mother. And he
was right. The baby was always crying. She didn't like me much. But I—I
loved her like I never loved anyone." Her eyes pooled with moisture.
"You have to believe me."
"I do. What did Gary ask you to do, Sarah?"
"I can't say. I've said too much already."
"But your baby is safe with someone you trust?"
He knew he had asked her before, but he had to be sure. If the baby was
all right, he could take his
time before he called anyone. It was a
weak rationalization, but he made it all the same, for there was
something about Sarah that touched him deeply. And what would a few
hours mean in the overall
scheme of things? If he could help her, he'd
feel like he was doing something meaningful. It occurred to him that
his feeling better was not nearly as important as Sarah's mental
health, but he couldn't stop to examine his motives.
Sarah drew in a sniffly breath, her frail shoulders trembling. "She's
with someone who can take care of her, probably better than I can. I
turned out just like my own mother, totally worthless. I always knew
I
was like her, but I didn't know how much until I had Emily."
"Your mother wasn't supportive?"
Sarah shook her head. "She wasn't even around most of the time. She'd
go off and leave me with my brother, even when I was a baby. She'd say
she loved me, but she hated me, too."
"I don't believe that."
"Oh, it's true. I know it's true, because she . . ." Her voice drifted
away. "Well, I just know."
Jonathan let that pass. "You can still be a mother to your child,
Sarah. You can get help."
"From who?"
He wanted to shout "From me!" but forced himself to hold back. He was
here to give advice and spiritual guidance, not to step in and solve
problems, especially when he had no real idea just how deep Sarah's
problems went. She was a confused young woman who'd obviously led a
rough, uncertain life, but was there more? Was she too weak to take
care of a child? Was she mentally ill? Or just tired and worn out and
overwhelmed?
"There is help out there," he said. "Social services, welfare,
transitional homes . . ."
Sarah immediately shook her head. "I've seen foster homes. The people
in it do it for the money. They don't care about the kids."
"They're not all like that. You haven't met very many good people in
your life, have you?" He didn't
wait for an answer, making an impulsive
decision. "Well, that I think I can do something about."
"What do you mean'.'"' she asked wanly.
"I could use some help today. Your help, if you're willing."
"I don't know how to do much."
"You can do this."
She stared at him doubtfully. "Why would you want me to help you?"
"Because giving can make you feel better at the same time it makes
someone else feel better."
"Are you sure?"
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life." He paused, reaching
across the table to cover her hand with his. "In my line of work, you
realize early on that life is about taking one step at a time.
Can you
do that much for me, Sarah? Can you take one step with me?"
"Are you going to hold my hand?" she asked softly.
Her eyes met his, and he knew he should let go, but he couldn't.
ten
"We don't need a changing table." Matt rolled his eyes as Caitlyn ran
her hand across the smooth surface of an oak changing table that would
also serve as a dresser. "Or a stroller," he added as her
eyes lit on a
state-of-the-art stroller across the aisle. He would have to rein her
in he realized as he followed her through the crowded baby store
with Emily in his arms.
"Look, this is one of those joggers," Caitlyn said with delight,
stopping in front of a three-wheeler. "You can run with Emily. You said
you haven't been able to run since she got here. This would be perfect."
"She's not going to be with me that long. And I don't think Sarah runs."
"How would you know? Oh, isn't that the cutest outfit?" Caitlyn ran
down the aisle and pulled out a
bright red dress that was only a little
bigger than Matt's hand. "It has a bonnet to go with it. You have
to
get this one."
"This was a big mistake." he said, frowning at her unbridled
enthusiasm. With Emily nuzzled against his chest and Caitlyn by
his side, he felt like he was part of a family: a husband, a wife, a
baby. But they weren't a family, and he couldn't let himself forget
that. "Look at you," he said pointedly, finally getting Caitlyn's
attention.
"What? I'm fine."
"You're out of control."
"It's one cute little dress," she said, putting it in the cart.
"Diapers, we need diapers." She walked around the corner and tossed
several large bags into the cart, followed by baby wipes, bottles,
formula, bibs, socks, a couple of sleepers, a baby blanket, a traveling
crib, and a pink hair ribbon that Caitlyn couldn't resist. By the time
they headed down the last aisle, the cart was overflowing with items
Caitlyn insisted that he needed.
"'You know I'm not a rich man," he told her.
"Most of it is on sale."
"And most of it we don't need. I don't need," he corrected. "She
doesn't need," he said, finally finding
the right pronoun.
Caitlyn simply offered him a smile that told him she could sec right
through him. To distract her, he stopped and looked over at the
shelves, determined to find something else that they didn't need, so
she would coo over it and focus her attention anywhere but on him.
That's when he saw it. an enormous chocolate brown teddy bear with
soft, plush fur and black eyes that reminded him of Sarah.
"Emily would love that," Caitlyn said.
"It's bigger than she is." he replied gruffly.
"She'll grow into it." Caitlyn took the bear off the rack and sat it on
top of the growing pile, daring him
to take it off.
"Fine," he said with a long-suffering sigh.
"Oh, please, you don't fool me."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about that sentimental streak that runs down your back."
"You're seeing things with those rose-colored glasses again, Princess."
"And you're a terrible liar. Why not just admit that you wouldn't mind
giving this sweet bear a little hug?" Caitlyn leaned over and put her
arms around the bear, her eyes lit up with mischievous playfulness.
He tried hard not to smile, but she was a picture with her long golden
hair and her warm brown eyes. "I've got my arms full as it is," he
said, adjusting Emily on his shoulder.
"I can take Emily."
"She's my responsibility."
"How kind of you to remember when it's convenient," she said dryly.
"I'll remind you of that next time she has a poopy diaper."
Matt laughed out loud, thinking how long it had been since he'd heard
himself laugh. Not that he'd admit that to her. It was one thing to
confess a little lust to a woman, but genuine liking was going loo far.
"You should do that more often," Caitlyn told him. "And maybe pick out
some brighter clothes. You
wear a lol of black."
"I like black. It suits my mood."
"It's depressing," she said, pushing the cart toward one of the
checkout counters.
"That's me and the newspaper, depressing."
She made a face at him as they stopped at the end of a long line. "Life
is too short to spend most of it dwelling on the negative."
"But it helps to be informed. You can make betler choices, avoid
costly, dangerous situations."
"Like opening your door at midnight when some man announces there's a
baby in the hallway?"
He groaned. "There it is again."
"And how would reading the newspaper have prevented me from opening my
door?"
"You might have read about the dangers of letting a stranger into your
house."
"And where would you be then? I'll tell you," she said, not waiting for
an answer. "You'd be here alone, buying Emily an entire wardrobe in
black, I'm sure."
"All right, you win." He wrinkled his nose as a nasty smell assailed
him. He didn't know why women raved about a baby smell. As far as he
could tell, there was only one distinct odor, and it certainly wasn't
rosy.
"Ooh," Caitlyn said with a frown. "Guess it's time to remind you about
Emily being your responsibility."
"I have to pay for this stuff."
"That is a dilemma, isn't it?"
"You're going to make me ask, aren't you? Fine. Will you please help me
by changing Emily's diaper?"
"Yes, I will, since you asked so nicely. I'll take her out to the car."
"I think there's one diaper left in the diaper bag," he told her. "If
not, you'll have to wait until I pay for these."
"I think there is one left. I'll pick up a newspaper on the way out and
lay it down over the upholstery," she said with a mischievous smile.
"See, I knew those newspapers were good for something."
"Remind me to tell you how important wedding dresses are to national
security."
"I was just kidding. Jeez, lighten up. And wedding dresses may not be
important to national security,
but they do add to the national gross
product." She took
Emily out of his arms. "And more importantly, they make people happy.
And that's priceless."
Matt was still smiling even after she'd left. A foolish grin no doubt,
judging by the way the checker stared at him like he was looney. And
maybe he was. Emily and Caitlyn were turning his world upside down.
He
just wished he didn't feel so damn good about it, because if he knew
anything, he knew this: if something seemed too good to be true, it
probably was.
*  *  *
Caitlyn hadn't enjoyed herself so much in a long time. After they'd
finished their shopping. Matt had dropped her and Emily off at home,
while he'd run out to pick up some food for dinner. Caitlyn had
made
herself comfortable in Matt's apartment, and after putting away the
baby things, she'd given
Emily a bath in her new tub.
Emily loved the water, smiling and gurgling every time Caitlyn drizzled
streams of water over her body. By the time they were through. Caitlyn
was almost as wet as Emily. They were both disappointed when Caitlyn
decided enough was enough and wrapped Emily in a terry doth towel and
laid her down in the middle of Matt's bed. She had just finished
dressing Emily in one of her new soft, fuzzy sleepers when she heard
the front door open.
Caitlyn walked into the living room with a bright smile and offered
Matt a flippant, "Hi, honey, you're home."
The expression on Matt's face told Caitlyn she'd probably gone a little
too far in making herself comfortable. She'd known it, too. Every
second of the afternoon a voice inside her head told her she
was
getting too involved, enjoying it all too much, losing sight of the
fact that this baby, this man, were not hers to keep. But she'd ignored
that little voice, concentrating on the here and now instead of the
future. Unfortunately, the future seemed to have
arrived in the form of one scowling male.
Caitlyn pushed a damp strand of hair away from her face. "We took a
bath," she said.
"I can see that. Just out of curiosity, did you actually get Emily wet?"
"She likes to splash. In fact, she's a regular water baby. You should
take her in the shower the next time you go. She'd probably love the
water going over her. . . her head." Caitlyn added belated, suddenly
aware that her mind had just conjured up Matt naked in the shower, and
what an image that was.
"Or you can just stick with the bath."
Matt didn't say anything to relieve her discomfort. Instead, the scowl
was replaced by a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
"Maybe you could join us in the shower."
She cleared her throat. "I don't think so."
"But you've been so helpful Why stop with just— redecorating?" His gaze
swept the apartment, noting how she'd spread everything out, including
placing the big bear in Matt's favorite armchair.
"If you don't like things, you can move them around."
Matt walked over to the dining room table and set down the bag of
Chinese food. "Has anyone ever told you that where you go, chaos seems
to follow?"
"I didn't want to go through your drawers," she said defensively, "or I
would have put things away."
"Maybe I'd like you to go through my drawers," he said with a wink.
"Matt, the baby!" she said in mock outrage, putting her hand over
Emily's car.
"If she hangs around here much longer, she'll hear a lot worse."
"You know, you're a lot cuter when you smile."
He shook his head in disbelief. "Do you actually think before you
speak?"
"What? I'm not supposed to notice that your face takes on this amazing
glow when you're amused by something?"
"You don't have to comment on everything you see. And men don't glow.
Nor are they cute."
"You glow and you're cute. And I'm in a good mood, so don't spoil it."
She rested her chin lightly on Emily's downy head, loving the feel of
the baby in her arms.
Matt's expression softened as he gazed at them both. "You don't have to
hold the baby every second."
"I like holding her."
"You're spoiling her."
"You can't spoil a baby, especially one who's missing her mother."
"Emily looks pretty happy to me. You make a good substitute."
Caitlyn drew in a sharp breath, once again reminded that this was all
very temporary. "Right. Well,
maybe I will put Emily down so we can
eat."
"Good idea. You never know how long the quiet will last," he added as
he set out the food. "I got chicken chow mein, sweet and sour pork, and
an assortment of other stuff. I wasn't sure what you'd like."
"That's fine." Caitlyn placed Emily in her car seat, which was now
adorned by a colorful mobile, giving the baby something to look at. In
fact, Emily's eyes immediately fixed on the swinging teddy bears,
allowing Caitlyn to back away without even a hint of protest.
Caitlyn was almost sorry that Emily was so happy. Without the
distraction of the baby, it was just her
and Matt, not in the couple
sense, of course, although they did seem to have a very inconvenient
and potent attraction for each other.
But that was just chemistry. It wasn't like they had an emotional
connection. It wasn't like they had anything in common—besides Emily.
Caitlyn simply had to keep things light and breezy, casual. They would
just be two neighbors sharing dinner, nothing more, nothing less. She
could do it. To do anything else, to imagine any other kind of
relationship with Matt, would be foolish and dangerous to her heart. It
was bad enough she was falling
for Emily; she couldn't allow herself to
fall for Matt, too.
Caitlyn sat down at the table as Matt retrieved plates and utensils
from the kitchen and took a few
calming breaths. Just dinner, she
reminded herself, realizing that dinner actually sounded pretty good.
There was a rumbling in her stomach that couldn't be denied.
"Chopsticks or forks?" Matt asked her, holding out both.
"Forks."
"Now, that surprises me. I would have picked you for the chopslick
type, romantic versus practical."
"Or hungry versus trying to impress." she replied as she began dishing
food onto her plate. The smells
of ginger and soy made her take a long
deep breath of delight. "This smells wonderful."
Matt sat down across from her, but instead of picking up his own fork,
he watched her take a bite.
"It amazes me sometimes how little it takes
to make you happy."
"After the accident I realized that you have to enjoy the small
moments, because sometimes that's all
you have. Right now, at this
place in this time, I'm happy." She shrugged. "In five minutes maybe I
won't be, but now is good, so I'm going to enjoy it."
Matt picked up his fork and took a bite of the pork.
"While I hesitate to upset your apple cart. . . did I mention there's a
bouquet of red roses sitting outside your apartment door? And before
you ask, no, I didn't send them. In fact, I couldn't help glancing at
the card. It was sitting right there."
"You snooped through my roses?"
"The handwriting was huge."
"Brian?" she asked, a knot forming in her stomach.
"Apparently he's even more sorry than he was earlier today."
Caitlyn set down her fork. "You couldn't have waited until after dinner
to tell me about the flowers?"
"The guy doesn't give up: I'll give him that much. Of course, you now
fit into his plans better than you
did last year."
"What would you have done differently? Let's say the positions were
reversed. You're in a wheelchair, and your fiance has this fabulous job
opportunity. Would you tell her to forget it, to stand by your side
no
matter what it costs her professionally?"
"No, I wouldn't, because I'm as noble as you are," he said. "But if she
left, I'd probably figure she didn't love me as much as I loved her. I
learned a long time ago that you can't make people stay. You can't make
them love you, and you can't make them change their minds, not about
the things that are
important to them, the things they want more than
they want you."
"You're saying Brian's career was more important to him than me?"
"Hell, yes, I'm saying that. Don't you feel the same way? Isn't that
why you haven't jumped back into
his arms?"
"That's part of the reason," she conceded. "It isn't just that he left,
though. When I think of him, I think of all the pain.
It's like the last thing you eat before you get the stomach flu. All
you remember is how
bad you felt afterward, even discounting the fact
that what you ate might have had nothing to do with
the vomiting.
They're coupled forever."
"Nice analogy while we're eating," he said dryly. "But I get your
point. You can't think of Brian without thinking of the wheelchair."
"Exactly. I know that's not fair. But there you go." She paused,
feeling a need to explain further. "I also know that a part of me
wanted Brian to go. It was easier for me when he was gone. I didn't
have to worry about him anymore, about how he was feeling, if he was
spending too much time at the hospital,
if he hated the way I looked,
if he was only there out of pity. That's why I sound so ambivalent
about wanting to blame him for leaving, because I know in my heart that
I kind of pushed him away. I don't know if you can understand.
Everything is so black and white with you, but I see all the shades of
gray. You probabiy think Fin nuts."
Matt reached across the table and covered one of her hands with his. "I
thought you weren't going to worry anymore about what people think?"
She sighed. "It's a habit I still have to break. You know that saying
about hearing the beat of a different drum? I've always felt that was
me, growing up out of step with everyone around me."
"Maybe the people around you were the ones out of step. After all, your
father doesn't even appear to
be on this planet at times, and your
mother is so driven by what she wants that she doesn't understand what
you want. And Brian, well, don't get me started . .."
She looked at him in amazement. She'd never considered that angle. "But
they're all brilliant, successful people, admired by many."
"So are you. Brilliant and successful."
She brushed the compliment aside. "Hardly."
"You run your own business. You have your own apartment. You live your
own life. What do you have to apologize for?"
She hesitated, feeling the words begin to bubble up inside of her,
words she couldn't possibly share. Fortunately, the phone rang,
effectively breaching the growing confidence between them.
Matt was all business when he answered the phone with a simple,
"Winters." His next words shocked
her to the core. "You've got a lead?"
The question sent Caitlyn to her feet as well. The call had to be about
Sarah. Oh, God. What if he'd found Sarah? Caitlyn looked at Emily,
sleeping peacefully in her car seat, and was assailed by the sudden
urge to grab her and keep her safe. But safe from whom? Her own mother?
How could she do that?
Matt grabbed a piece of paper and jotted something down. "Maybe I
should go there, too, ask some questions." He paused, then nodded. "All
right. I'll wait for your call."
Caitlyn twisted her fingers together, feeling the tension rising within
her. It was all she could do not to
say anything until Matt had hung up
the phone, then the words burst out of her. "Did he find Sarah?"
Matt's eyes blazed with excilement. "A woman with long black hair
checked into a shelter in San Francisco last night under the name of
Sarah Vaughn."
"Do you think it's her?" she asked tightly.
"Vaughn was my mother's maiden name."
Caitlyn wrapped her arms around her waist, feeling cold. This was
supposed to be good news. So why didn't she feel good? "What happens
now?"
"Blake assures me that Sarah is not at the shelter now, but he has an
assistant who will be there tonight
in case she returns. Blake also ran
her name through the computers and came up with an address in Berkeley.
That's where he is now. He says no one is home, but he will call me as
soon as someone
comes back." His eyes blazed with renewed hope. "I've
never been this close, Caitlyn. I have half a
mind to drive over there
myself."
"I'm sure Blake will call you as soon as he knows anything."
"But what if Sarah sees him and runs? I'm not sure I should take the
chance."
"You can't take Emily," Caitlyn said abruptly.
"Sure I can. She loves the car."
"No."
Matt raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Why not?"
Caitlyn swallowed hard, suddenly forced to come up with an explanation
for her knee-jerk reaction, one based on logic and not emotion.
Finally, she said, "For whatever reason, Sarah didn't want Emily with
her. I don't think you should take Emily back to a place Sarah left."
He hesitated. "You might have a point."
"Of course I do. You should just let vour investigator investigate,
("in sure he'll call you as soon as
Sarah surfaces, it' she does."
Caitlyn walked away from his inquisitive eyes and paused in front of
the window. She knew why she didn't want Matt to lake Emily and go, and
her reasons were purely seitish. In spite of telling herself a hundred
times not to get attached, she'd gotten attached.
"Emily will go back to her mother, Caitlyn," Matt said quietly from
behind her. "You know that. It's the best thing for her. A
baby needs its mother."
"A mother who left her in a hallway?"
"We don't know why she did that."
"I'm not sure I care why." A minute later, she felt his hands on her
shoulders, and she couldn't help herself from leaning back against
Matt's chest. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know you want me to be
happy that you're close to finding Sarah, but I guess it just hit me
that as soon as Sarah comes back, Emily goes."
"You really love kids, don't you?"
He didn't know the half of it. "Yeah," was all she said.
"You've been great with Emily." He turned her around to face him. "I
will promise you one thing.
I won't hand Emily over without having a
discussion about why Sarah left her with me."
"You have to do that, Matt, even though I know you're dying to see
Sarah. You can't let your feelings from the past overrule your common
sense. You can't let your reunion with Sarah be more important than
Emily's welfare."
"That won't happen," he replied, his face as serious as her own. "Emily
is my primary concern. I know what it's like to be raised by a mother
who shouldn't be a mother. I won't let Emily grow up in that situation.
But I want to give Sarah a chance to explain, because if they can be
together, they should be."
Before she could reply, the phone rang again. "You should get that,"
Caitlyn said, moving away from
him. "It could be Blake."
The phone had awakened Emily, who began to whimper and stretch. While
Matt took the call, Caitlyn picked up the baby. Changing Emily's diaper
and getting a bottle ready gave Caitlyn a chance to put matters back
into perspective. By
the time Matt hung up the phone, she was convinced she could keep
everything on an even keel. With her emotions safely locked away once
again, she sat down on the

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