Father to Be (15 page)

“Have they checked—” J.D. looked at the kids again, and a deeply regretful look came over his features before he returned his gaze to her. “Are they checking any unidentified bodies that turned up over the last six or seven weeks?”

“Yes, they are. So far there’s been nothing.”

“Wouldn’t that be the good news/bad news from hell? ‘Hey, kids, guess what? Your father didn’t abandon you. He really did intend to come back. Unfortunately, he can’t because he’s dead.’ ”

Which would be worse? Kelsey wondered. Living with the fear that their father had walked out on them and the constant hope that he might return, or knowing he could never return but that he’d loved them and never would have abandoned them voluntarily?

“Well, that was a grim enough conversation. Let’s lighten up a bit. Now that you’ve been here a few days, what do you think of Bethlehem?”

“It’s a nice town.”

“Uh-huh.” His tone was leading, his expression bordering on amused. “Finding everything you need?”

“Everything,” she said firmly, though it wasn’t exactly true. She’d discovered from experience that the only places in town open after nine
P.M.
were the police and sheriff’s departments and the hospital. Most shops closed at five or six, the video store at seven. The grocery store didn’t carry her favorite brands of a dozen or more items, and the selection of what they did have was limited, to say the least. Worst of all, while in the throes of egg foo yung withdrawal, she’d discovered that the nearest Chinese takeout was forty-five miles away in Howland.

But those were the tradeoffs for the slower pace, the lower crime rate, the reduced stress, and it was a fair
enough trade. She could learn to live without her favorite bottled water or the specialty frozen yogurt to die for. She could even learn to have egg foo yung cravings only on the days she was working in Howland.

“You don’t miss all the stores and choices you had in the city?”

The smile she gave him was saccharine. “Not at all. I can find everything I need right here.”

“Have you met many people?”

She took a deep breath that smelled of pine, sawdust, and clean, fresh air. “I met Alex Thomas, and his wife brought me a welcome-to-Bethlehem bouquet that was gorgeous.”

“Alex and Melissa are good people. They’re an important part of the town.”

That was what she wanted to be—a good person who was important to those around her, and not just because of her job but because she belonged. Because she’d found a place that wanted her as much as she needed it.

“I also met Mitch Walker and most of his officers.” The chief of police was a kind man with pictures of his kids on his desk and a soft spot in his heart for everyone in his town. He was a good person too, and so were the Bishops, the Winchesters, Mrs. Larrabee, and J.D. They were all important to Bethlehem.

“Drop a hint to the Winchesters, and they’ll give a big party and invite the whole town for you to meet.”

“Is that what you did?”

“Yeah. They called it Christmas.”

“You moved here at Christmas?”

“Where better to spend that particular holiday than this particular town?”

“It seems a strange time to leave your old home for a new one. Did you have family in Chicago?”

He twirled a carrot in dip, as if coating it thoroughly
was of utmost importance, then bit off the end with a loud crunch. “No. When my mother died, my father moved from Boston back to Philadelphia, where they were from.”

“And that’s it? No brothers or sisters? No nieces and nephews to spoil?”

“Nope. I was an only child.”

“Have you ever been married?”

“Once.”

“What happened?”

“It ended a long time ago.” Crumpling his paper plate with enough force to snap the plastic fork inside, he stood up. “Why don’t you talk to the kids while I get started working?”

She watched him go inside, moving smoothly in spite of the tension that hummed through him. So his marriage was a sore point. Had it been that bad, or so good he hadn’t wanted it to end? Had the emotional and financial costs of the divorce been too high? Did he consider the marriage a mistake he wished he hadn’t made, or was the divorce a regret he hadn’t yet made peace with?

She could find out under the guise of doing her job, but the idea felt too sneaky. He’d already been approved as a foster parent. Noelle had already conducted his background investigation, and Mary Therese had already signed off on it. Without a legitimate reason to request more information, asking would smack of pure nosiness or, worse, personal interest.

She would like to pretend that she had no personal interest in J. D. Grayson, but it wouldn’t be true. He was handsome, charming, great with people. He was intelligent, supportive, an emotional rock, and obviously fond of children. In short, he appeared to be everything most single women were looking for in a man.

Appeared
being the operative word. There was more to
J. D. Grayson than met the eye, more, she suspected, than even his closest friends in Bethlehem knew.

Which didn’t matter much, because he was also off limits—
way
off limits as long as the Brown children were in his care.

After depositing her dishes in the trash bag he’d brought, she descended the stairs to the lower deck and stood at the rail looking out. This would be a wonderfully healing place to sit on a quiet evening as dusk settled. She could watch the light fade from the sky and the wild creatures who passed by on their way from one place to another. She could listen to the nighttime birdsongs and the creek that was just out of sight and literally feel the tension ease out of her body. This place could put her mind at rest.

Was that just coincidence, or the hotshot psychiatrist at work?

“Hi.”

Gracie had caught her unaware, creeping quietly onto the bench that supported the rail and stopping a half dozen feet away. Kelsey smiled at her. “Hi yourself.”

The girl leaned against the railing and held her cookie in both hands while she took a bite. With crumbs trickling from her mouth, she asked, “Are you gonna put my daddy in jail?”

It wasn’t the first time Kelsey had been asked that question, but it never failed to surprise her. The loyalty innocent children could display toward the parents who abused and abandoned them was amazing. “That’s not my job, Gracie. My job is to make sure that you and your brothers are taken care of, that you have a nice, clean place to live, clothes to wear, and food to eat.”

“I got a blanket with pink and white stripes. And a bed all to myself. And I got a new dress. And new shoes, see?” She stuck out one foot with its lavender sneaker.

“And you’ve got food. That cookie’s almost bigger than you.”

“I helped make it. Miss Agatha said I’m a good baker. Want a bite?” She thrust the cookie out, but Kelsey shook her head with a smile.

“Just a bite? Kiddo, I’m getting a whole cookie all my own.” Kelsey sat down on the bench, her elbows resting on the rail, her feet crossed at the ankles. “What do you think of Dr. J.D., Gracie?”

“Caleb says—”

“You know what? I want to hear what
Gracie
says.”

Putting her cookie aside, Gracie sat down and tried to mimic Kelsey’s position, but her arms didn’t reach the railing. Instead, she sat cross-legged and munched a moment longer. “He’s kinda nice for a bad man,” she said at last.

“A bad— Who told you—” Caleb, of course. “Dr. J.D.’s not a bad man, Gracie. He’s a very good man, like your father. Your daddy would be happy to know that he’s taking care of you.”

Gracie tilted her head to study her. “Do you know my daddy?”

“No.”

“Do you know my mama?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Me too. She left when I was free, and Caleb won’t tell us nothin’ about her. But my daddy used to tell us stories. He said she was a good mama, and she wanted to stay with us but she
had
to go away.”

Truth or fiction? Kelsey wondered. Had Ezra Brown made an effort to present them with the mother he wished they’d had? Or was there more to Lilah Brown’s leaving than anyone knew?

“Sometimes I miss havin’ a mama,” Gracie continued, her voice soft and wistful. “Miss Agatha and Miss C’rinna
and Miss Bee … They’re kinda like grandmamas, and they’re nice and all, ’cause we never had one of them neither, but I’d like to have a mama. The man, he don’t got no wife. If we had to live with someone ’sides our daddy, I wish it was someone with a wife. And maybe a little girl for me to play with. And a puppy. Miss C’rinna’s neighbor lady has a big puppy named Buddy that she lets play with us, and he snuggles with me when he sleeps and I like that. Ya think that man would let us have a puppy?”

“I don’t know, Gracie. You’d have to ask him.”

The girl gave her an appealing smile. “Maybe
you
could ask for us. Maybe you could tell ’im the welfare people says we need a puppy.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that. But you can talk to him. He’ll listen, but,” she warned, “he might say no.”

The smile disappeared with a huff. “I know. ’cause he’s mean and don’t really like kids.”

“Gracie,” Kelsey chided.

“Well, Caleb says.” Swiftly, she changed the subject. “Hey, can we go inside?”

Because she wanted to go inside too, Kelsey was quick to agree. “Sure. Come on.” She stood up and extended her hand. After several silent moments Gracie took it, her fingers curling tightly around Kelsey’s. Her hand was warm and sticky and heartachingly small. Kelsey wanted to sweep her up into her arms, wanted to swear on her own life that Gracie would always be safe and protected, that she would never be hurt again.

She didn’t, of course. Instead, she cleared her throat and offered a husky invitation. “What do you say, kiddo? Let’s give ourselves the grand tour.”

J
.D. maneuvered the last cabinet from its box. Cabinets filled the center of the kitchen and trailed into the dining room, box after box of unpainted pine. He could have asked for help in hanging them, and enough friends would have shown up to finish the job in one evening, but one part of him liked the idea of doing it all by himself. The part that had worked all day, though, wished for a helper to screw the supports into the studs while he held them steady.

The subfloor creaked, drawing his gaze to the open French door. Kelsey and Gracie stood just inside, the woman’s hands on the girl’s shoulders, both in their sundresses, both with their unruly brown hair, creating too pretty a picture. Why did she try to hide behind ugly clothes and do up those great curls in a matronly bun? Why go out of her way to be plain when she was so lovely? Was she afraid of drawing a man’s attention? Too late, because she sure had his, at least until he slowly, deliberately, and just a little reluctantly turned it back to the cabinet he was manhandling into the dining room.

“Can we take a look around?” Kelsey asked.

“Be my guest.”

They wandered off, talking about the rooms and their functions, picking out their favorite features. It’d been a long time since he’d heard the distant softness of a woman’s voice in his house. Then he’d taken it for granted—the sound of Carol Ann on the phone, visiting with friends or chatting with the housekeeper. It had been comforting background noise, reminding him that he wasn’t alone, that she was there, taking care of everything, waiting patiently for her share of his time. He hadn’t given her enough of it, of course. He’d been too busy becoming respected, renowned,
the
authority in his field. He’d paid for his neglect.
She
had paid for his ambition.

Footsteps clumped up the stairs then down the hall and
around each room. There were three bedrooms up there, two too many for a man who lived alone. But maybe someday he would have company. His father would visit, if he ever got the place finished, and maybe—

Swallowing hard, he cut the thought off right there. There were limits to how much of the past he could endure in one evening, and with Kelsey’s question about marriage, he’d already surpassed them. Better to think about something else,
anything
else.

He leveled the cabinet, tossed a handful of screws inside, then reached for the drill where he’d left it on the ladder paint tray. He’d misjudged the distance, though, and could barely brush the cord with his fingertips.

“Looks like you could use a little help.” Kelsey laid the drill in his palm, then came closer. “Need an extra hand?”

“No, thanks.” But it was a lie. He needed a couple extra hands, just not hers.

“I wasn’t planning to offer my own. I was going to walk to the door and call Caleb.”

“I can manage. Where’s Gracie?”

“Lounging in the bathtub upstairs. It’s a great bathtub.”

It was, he acknowledged as he drilled the first screw into the stud. Oversized, marble, set in a corner, and looking out on the best view on the place. Any lounging
he
did would likely be on the deck, but he’d included the tub on the off chance that someday …

What? He’d get married again? Maybe, but he wasn’t at the point yet where he could imagine it. Married or not, he wouldn’t be celibate. Maybe he would get involved with some woman who would appreciate the luxury. Someone who would look incredibly enticing wet and naked. Someone with long hair and longer legs and a wicked smile. Someone—ah, hell, why ignore the obvious? Someone like Kelsey.