Dylan's Daddy Dilemma (The Colorado Fosters Book 04) (5 page)

Even sharing breakfast with Dylan and his mother hadn’t been too awkward. Other than a few questions regarding Chelsea’s car, Margaret had kept the conversation to simple topics that involved Henry. Did he have a favorite toy? Had he learned the alphabet yet? Since he had, he then—naturally—had to prove so by reciting the letters. Not once, but twice.

Up until this very minute, Chelsea’s first morning in Steamboat Springs had gone as well as it possibly could. But selling her car was more difficult than she’d thought. Sighing, she stepped backward and watched as the man readied the vehicle to be towed. Failure, strong and consuming, slammed onto her shoulders. Where would she and her son sleep tonight? How many days or weeks or months would it take her to get them back on their feet?

Chelsea drew in a breath to steady herself and watched as the Malibu was hauled away. She waited until the truck and the car were completely out of sight before allowing herself one minute to feel the full weight of her emotions. Better here, alone, than inside and in front of Henry, who remained blissfully unaware of the shaky ground they now stood on.

Yesterday had been awful. And okay, she’d had other awful days and bounced back, but this felt scarier than anything they’d yet experienced. She didn’t have a home. Oh, God.
Her son
didn’t have a home. He didn’t have a bedroom or a bed or a place to store his books or toys. He didn’t have...
Stop
.

She’d had those things as a child, and she’d still been miserable. So, no, Henry might not have a bedroom or a bed right now, but he had her. And come hell or high water, she wouldn’t let him down. Straightening her spine—literally and figuratively—Chelsea wiped her eyes, shoved her fear and failure and panic into a corner, and headed for the restaurant.

Yesterday was over. Today would be better.

* * *

His family had shown up at the perfect time and for reasons unknown to him entered through the front of the restaurant. Haley, after learning the basic rundown from Dylan while their mother kept Henry occupied, had then taken the boy to the other room so he could talk to everyone else. Fortunately, he hadn’t had to say much to get them on board.

The simple fact of keeping a mother and her young child off the streets had been more than enough, and a loose plan had been formed.
Very
loose and fairly flimsy, as far as plans went. Details still needed to be filled in and firmed, but it was better than nothing.

“Okay, she’s on her way back,” Dylan said, standing near the window.

“None of this might pan out,” Cole said. “I’m not entirely positive that Dee’s Deli even has an open position, and I have no idea where Chelsea and Henry might stay other than here or at a hotel. And this seems rushed, even to me. More time would be helpful.”

“Yup, it would. But we don’t have more time, and she won’t agree to stay here another night.” Dylan kept his eyes on Chelsea as she trekked through the parking lot. “A job comes first—the rest can follow. Reid? How fast can you find out if your pediatrician’s office is still hiring?”

“I’ll call Daisy when we’re done and see if she knows,” Reid said. “Cole’s right, though. A little more time would go a long way. To get to know Chelsea, for one thing. Easier to help her find a job if I can give her a personal recommendation.”

“She’s a good person and she needs a job. So, I don’t know, do it for me.”

“And you know she’s a good person how?” the patriarch of the family, Paul, asked. “Don’t get me wrong, son, we should do what is reasonable, but you’ve only known this woman for a few hours. Not hardly long enough to ask your brothers to put their word on the line.”

Frustrated, though unsure why—his father’s assessment matched his own brand of logic, after all—Dylan faced his family. Cole and Reid were standing near the door to the bar area, while his parents were at the table. “Because I... It’s one of those things, Dad. I just know. I’m supposed to do this.” Then, looking at his mother, he said, “You met her. What do you think?”

“I like her,” she said. “She seems lost right now, but perfectly sane and capable. And I’m pleased that you feel so strongly about helping her, which we will. But really, all we have to do is point her in the right direction. If the deli or the doctor’s office is hiring, take her to those places. Chelsea will either have the experience to merit an interview or she won’t.”

Yet again, the logic was sound, but Dylan’s frustration didn’t ease. That woman—Chelsea Bell—was getting to him, both her and her child, and he wanted to do more than merely send them in the right direction and
hope
they were okay. He wanted them to be set.

But okay, a ridiculous way to feel. Especially so fast.

“Right. That’s all I meant.” Another quick look out the window showed that Chelsea was nearing the door. “Why don’t you guys check in on Haley and Henry? Once I warn Chelsea you’re all here, I’ll bring her in for introductions.”

“You seem tense, Dylan,” Cole said, barely hiding his grin. “Makes me wonder if there’s something else we should know before meeting Chelsea?”

Cripes.
“Like what? I have a busy day. I’m supposed to be at the sporting-goods store by twelve and at Reid’s by four-thirty. I’m juggling my responsibilities with trying to help Chelsea, and time is running short. That’s it.”

“The store will manage without you today,” Cole said. “Do what you need to do.”

“And if you can’t be at my place this afternoon, Daisy will understand,” Reid said without hesitation. “But something seems to be bothering you. Worries me, Dylan, since the way you’re behaving now is similar to when you—”

“Stop. Please,” Dylan said before Reid uttered Elise’s name. His mother’s intuition seemed to be spreading, and that was not a good sign. “I don’t want to add to Chelsea’s discomfort by having her walk into a room filled with strangers. So, vamoose already, okay?”

Paul, who’d watched the back-and-forth with a fair amount of interest, stood. “Move it,” he said to Reid and Cole. “No sense in arguing. We’ve agreed to help, and that’s that. Whatever else you want to know, you can ask later.”

Clamping his jaw shut, as if physically restraining himself from saying more, Reid nodded and exited the room, with Cole and their parents right behind him.

Three seconds later, Chelsea walked in.

Chapter Five

“Y
ou okay?” Dylan asked the instant the door closed behind Chelsea. She turned, and there he was, strong and tall and far too appealing for a man she’d only just met. He smiled and butterflies dipped and bobbed in her stomach, adding to her nerves. “That had to be tough, selling your car. Brave, too, though. I’m sorry you had to make such a choice.”

“Brave? Not hardly. It was the right choice.”

“Just because something is right doesn’t mean it’s easy.” He leaned against the wall, his arms angled over his chest, and looked her straight in the eyes. It was disconcerting. And more than a little intense. “You can argue if you want, but it won’t change my mind.”

Blinking to break the contact, she said, “Then I’ll change the subject. Thank you for watching Henry. I hope he behaved and didn’t cause too much trouble.”

“Nah. He wasn’t any trouble at all.” Dylan nodded toward the main area of the restaurant. “My family is here, and Haley sort of fell under your son’s spell. She wants to spend the day with him, thought she’d take him to her place. If you’re okay with the idea, naturally, but she—”

“Wait. Just wait a minute,” Chelsea interjected, taken off guard. “Why would your sister want to babysit a kid she barely knows? That seems odd.”

“Not odd at all. Haley loves kids. In fact,” Dylan said with a shrug, “she and her fiancé run a camp for foster children. The last group of boys left a week ago and the next won’t be here until a little closer to summer. I think the place feels empty to her now.”

“I see.” She tried to gather her thoughts, tried to put her finger on what bothered her the most about this offer, and the best she came up with was “While that must be terrific for the kids, having a camp like that, Henry isn’t a foster child. He also isn’t Haley’s responsibility. So, I’m guessing you asked her to babysit, and the only reason—”

“Whoa,” Dylan said, holding up a hand. “Stop for a second and take a breath.” She pressed her lips together and waited, but tapped her toe to show her impatience. “Did I say that Henry was a foster child or that I believe he is Haley’s responsibility?”

“No. But you seem to think that I’m the sort of mother who will pawn her child off on a stranger, and that’s not the type of parent I am.” Irritation darkened her voice. She had
always
seen to Henry’s welfare, which was why she had to get out of here. A job was not going to miraculously fall into her hands. “I take care of my son.”

“If I somehow implied you didn’t, I apologize.” Again, Dylan’s gaze hit her head-on. Again, her stomach dipped and bobbed. “But why are you so defensive? Are you in some type of trouble, Chelsea? Is someone, like Henry’s father, looking for you? If so, maybe I can—”

“What? Help?” Forget irritation. True-blue anger took center stage. Still, she kept her voice calm. Even. “Henry’s father isn’t in the picture. And you already know I’m in trouble. I’m without a job or a place to live.” One breath in, another out. “Instead of working on those issues, I’m stuck standing here, being questioned about areas of my life that are none of your concern.”

“Right. I know you came here for a job that no longer exists. I don’t know why or what happened, but I suppose if you felt like telling me, you would.” He waited, as if he thought she’d fill in the blanks. When she didn’t, he cleared his throat. “Also, you’re not stuck standing here. The door’s over there. Feel free to walk through it anytime you please. And I’m sorry for mentioning Henry’s father. You’re correct. Your personal life isn’t my business.”

“That’s right. It isn’t,” she said, appreciating his apology but not ready to let go of her temper. “And while I am grateful for all of your assistance, it’s time for me and Henry to leave.”

“And go where?”

“A motel,” she said, hating the idea. Well, she hated all of this. The uncertainty and the unknowns. “I’ll just need to see the phone book again, to figure out which one is closest.”

“So you can walk there, with all your stuff and Henry?”

“Why not?” Doing so wouldn’t be easy, but she’d get the job done. Even if that meant making several trips to and from the restaurant. With Henry. In the still-cold, windy weather.

“That’s certainly one possibility, but will you hear me out first?” Dylan asked quietly, in such a tone that she’d be hard-pressed not to agree. “Please?”

And darn it, the
please
finished the job. She gave a short nod.

“It’s like this.” He spoke fast, as if worried she’d change her mind. “Haley and Henry were hanging out. She mentioned the camp. He asked a few questions about what the boys did while they were there, and he got all pumped over the idea of learning how to raise a tent. My sister offered to teach him, if you gave your permission. That’s it, Chelsea.”

She took in a lungful of air and gave herself a few seconds to regain her equilibrium. His explanation made sense, and she had no doubt that her son had, indeed, gone over the moon at the idea of learning how to put up a tent. But neither of those facts changed her decision.

“Then I’m sorry, too, for overreacting,” she said. “I’ve been off-kilter since losing my job, and you keep surprising me. But I can’t let Haley babysit Henry.”

“Why not?” Dylan countered. “Wouldn’t it be easier to job hunt and locate living arrangements without Henry tagging along?”

Logically, yes. Emotionally? Not at all. “You and your sister seem very nice, but I don’t really know either of you,” she said. “And I’m too uncomfortable with having my son somewhere I’ve never been, with someone I don’t really know. That has to make sense to you.”

“It does. Completely,” he said, without missing a beat. “How about a compromise? Take an hour to go to Haley’s with me, see how you feel then. If you become more comfortable, I’ll drive you to your motel and wherever else you want to go. If you’re not, then I’ll do the same, we’ll just take Henry with us. Either way, you won’t lose any time, since I’ll play chauffeur.”

Oh, jeez. What to do? She didn’t want to give in—not at all—but the thought of disappointing Henry combined with the logic of Dylan’s first offer and the wisdom of his second forced her hand. And it would be so much easier to have a ride to the motel.

“I guess I can live with that,” she said. “As long as you don’t mind playing chauffeur.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I minded.”

“And that’s what I don’t understand.”

“What is it you don’t understand?”

“I... It’s just that you keep...” Overwhelmed, she closed her mouth and dropped her gaze to the floor. “I don’t understand why you’re so kind to someone you don’t know.”

“It’s called lending a helping hand. You’re right, we’ve barely met, but one thing has already become crystal clear,” he said, speaking softly. “You question kindness, seemingly at every turn. How is it you’ve had such bad luck that you can’t trust in basic human goodness?”

“How is it that you’ve had such good luck that you can?” The question flew from her mouth, unbidden, and she wished—oh, how she wished—that she could take it back. She felt visible. Vulnerable. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter.”

“I think it does. I think you’ve been taught that trusting in kindness is a mistake.”

One long step and he stood in front of her. Close. So close she could lean into him, into his strength, if she so chose. Of course, she didn’t. The thought was...entirely unreasonable. Besides which, he was wrong. Kindness had nothing to do with her ability to trust.

She just didn’t trust, period.

“Maybe I’m just smart,” she said. “Maybe what I’ve learned is that too many people only care for themselves and what they can get out of any given situation.”

He winced slightly, and she wondered if there was a story there, behind that wince.

“I’m sorry for that, for whatever brought you to that conclusion, and it’s always smart to be aware,” Dylan said. “But I’d like to believe that most people are honestly kind, because most people know that they can’t do everything on their own. You gotta know that, too.”

Oh, she did. But she was too afraid of all the potential fallouts to not do everything on her own. And this was not a topic she was prepared to discuss. Ever, really. Particularly now, when her world lay crumbled at her feet and she had zero stability.

Raising her chin a stubborn notch, she said, “If we’re going to Haley’s, we need to do so now. Otherwise, I’m taking Henry and finding a motel. On my own.”

“Sure,” he said easily. Another long, intense look passed between them. “You’ll have to meet my family first, as they’re with Henry at the moment and they’ll want to say hi. It’s nothing to worry about, and we’ll be in and out lightning fast.”

No, no, no. Meeting more Fosters was not on her agenda. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do I have to meet them, and why do they care if they meet me?” she asked, speaking slowly and purposefully. “I’m no one to them.”

“Ah...because that’s how my family is, and I wouldn’t say you’re no one. They’ve met your son. They know you stayed the night here and that you’re new to Steamboat Springs. Why wouldn’t they want to meet you?” Every inch of his body, from his long legs to the straight, even line of his shoulders, tensed. “They’re interested and curious. That’s all there is to it.”

Oh, she was pretty sure there was something more to it, but she couldn’t say what. And arguing would only slow her down, whether she won the argument or not. “Fine,” she said, choosing the path of least resistance. “So long as it’s fast. I mean it, Dylan.”

“Fifteen minutes, Chelsea,” Dylan said with an easy smile. “And we’ll be out of here.”

Relieved, she nodded and forced her legs to carry her forward. None of this seemed real. Or sane. Because, despite Dylan’s assurances to the contrary, most people did not put themselves out to help strangers. Oh, they might offer their bus seat to an elderly person, or give directions to someone who was lost, or any number of less disruptive acts of kindness.

But everything that had transpired since Dylan had found her in her car last night seemed more than the typical. Kind, yes. Helpful, without a doubt. And she was appreciative.

She just couldn’t stop herself from wondering and, okay, worrying if there was more to Dylan Foster and his ready-to-lend-a-hand attitude than met the eye. What was his motivation, because he had to have one, didn’t he? Well...unless he was one of those men who couldn’t resist fixing other people’s problems. Maybe. She didn’t like the notion, for many reasons, but the explanation worked well enough to settle her concerns.

Because if that was the type of man he was, he’d move on to the next problem he came across soon enough. Probably within a week, unless she went out of her way to track him down or accidentally bumped into him somewhere, Dylan Foster would’ve vanished from her life.

And that was fine.

Or...that
should
be fine. Rather, the thought left her feeling distinctly let down.

* * *

Thankfully, Dylan’s family had been on their best behavior when they met Chelsea. All of them—even Reid—had stuck to the normal, obvious type of questions folks asked when first getting to know someone. This was likely due to Henry’s presence, but Dylan didn’t care why. He was just pleased they’d gotten in and out as quickly as he’d promised Chelsea they would.

Relieved, too, even if that relief was short-lived. No doubt his brothers were already compiling a list detailing what they wanted to know about Chelsea and why Dylan had taken her under his wing so damn fast. But that was to be dealt with later.

Within fifteen minutes, he’d had Chelsea and Henry in his car and they were following Haley toward her and Gavin’s refurbished farmhouse. Their home, and therefore the camp, was located near the top end of a long, windy, uphill road with plenty of acreage and solitude.

For close to a year and a half, the entire Foster crew had worked to get the house and the land ready for the camp’s opening this past October. In that time, Dylan had grown close enough to Gavin to consider him a friend, and he guessed soon enough he’d be able to call him a brother, as well. Gavin was a solid, dependable, goal-oriented man who was, in many ways, a complete opposite from Haley and her fly-by-the-seat-of-her-pants approach to life.

Strange as it might sound, they were a good match.

Now the two men were sitting on the farmhouse’s wide enclosed back porch, enjoying mugs of strong black coffee, watching as Haley expertly demonstrated how to raise a tent to an avid audience of three: Henry, Chelsea and the camp’s mascot, a pooch of unknown origins named Roxie. Chelsea and Henry were paying close attention as Haley spoke, but the dog seemed more interested in running in excited circles around the group. Every now and then, she’d stop and playfully butt her head against Henry’s legs.

“Everything going well with you guys?” Dylan asked Gavin, more to fill the silence than anything else. If there was trouble in paradise, he’d already know about it.

“Yeah, it is. Life is good.”

And that was another aspect of Gavin’s personality that Dylan enjoyed: he didn’t mince words or overly explain. “I’m glad. It’s nice to see Haley as happy as she is. So...ah, how quickly did you know she was someone to pay attention to?”

Damn. Where had that question come from?

“I don’t know that I had much choice but to pay attention.” Shifting in his seat, Gavin switched his focus to Dylan. “You know how your sister is when she sets her sights on something. She isn’t an easy person to ignore. She was rather focused on being seen.”

“That’s my sister. My parents should have named her Haley Tenacious Foster.”

“Yup. Though I’d say she comes by the trait naturally. Didn’t take me long to figure that one out.” Gavin tapped his coffee mug with his thumb. “Tenacious, determined, stubborn as the day is long. I’d say that describes the entire Foster family to a T.”

“The rest of them, maybe. Me? I tend to be on the more laid-back side.”

Gavin laughed. A rough, tough, gravelly type of a sound that completely matched his six-foot-five height and linebacker build. “Laid-back? Nah. Hate to tell you this, my friend, but that word isn’t even in the dictionary as far as you’re concerned.”