4

 

“You know, this won’t earn you brownie points,” Rebecca teased as she fell in step beside Cole. Her pumps clacked along the tile floor and muted sunlight spilled through windows to cast shadows along the walls. “You still have to do your homework.”

“I know.” He held the door for her, then waited while she locked up and set an alarm. The evening air was warm and a gentle breeze teased Rebecca’s hair. The look brought back memories of the whimsical smile she’d worn the first time he saw her skimming over arena ice, stretched in a graceful spiral. “Do you skate much anymore?”

“No.” She tucked the keys into her purse and slung the strap over her shoulder. “I haven’t been skating in years. And you?”

“About the same.” Truth be told, he hadn’t skated since Leah got sick. He missed racing across the ice, the pure physicality of it. A game of hockey—a round of speed over ice—was good medicine for just about anything that ailed. Being with Becca reminded him of all he’d been missing. “Too busy.”

“Ordering birthday cakes, right?”

“Oh, man…” Cole paused at the car and glanced at his watch. “Do you mind a little side trip before we hit the deli?”

“Not at all. Those fruit snacks hit the spot.”

“Good idea, huh.” He gave her the impish grin that used to set her pulse skittering. “If we hurry, we can make it before the bakery closes.”

“I’ll bet you drive like you skate, Mario.”

“No tickets on record, and the speed only counts if you get caught.”

“Just keep it under eighty.”

“I can manage that.”

“You’d better.” She waited while Cole opened the passenger door for her, and then lifted a few picture books from the seat before she slipped into the passenger side. “A bit of light reading?”

“Kimmy likes to look at stories while she rides.”

“I see.” Rebecca glanced through the titles before she set the books on the back seat. “That’s a nice collection. Do you read to her often?”

“Every night at bedtime, and whenever I can in between.”

“She’s a lucky little girl.”

“I hope so.” He scooted into the driver’s seat and started the engine.

“You’re not sure?”

“She’s been through a lot.” He shrugged and switched on the radio. Music with a heavy beat blasted through the cab before he quickly lowered the volume. “Losing her mom. It was a shock to both of us.”

“How did it happen?” Rebecca stretched the seatbelt across her lap as he eased the car into drive.

“She had a congenital heart condition. That’s why we had trouble…” Cole shifted gears and merged into traffic. There was no need to share his and Leah’s difficulties having a child, and the reasons they’d adopted Kimmy instead. “We had no idea until her doctor stumbled upon it completely by accident. We thought things were under control, but we were wrong.”

“I’m so sorry, Cole.” Rebecca smoothed a wisp of hair from her forehead and caught her lower lip between her teeth before continuing. “What law firm do you work for?”

“Johnson and Murrell. Are you familiar with it?”

“Yes. I’ve been there.”

“Do you mind if I ask why?”

“Not at all.” She jabbed the radio dial for a different station until soft music whispered. She never had been a fan of the faster music he leaned toward. “I’m searching for my daughter. She was adopted without my consent.”

“I’m not following.”

“It’s a long story—one you’d find hard to believe. I’m just wondering why I didn’t see you there.”

“I took some time off to stay home with Kimmy after Leah died. I’ve only been back to work a few months.”

“That explains things. I was there about five months ago.”

“Did you get the help you needed?”

“I’m still looking.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I hope you find your daughter. I can’t imagine life without Kimmy. It would be so…” His gaze drifted to her and the tight line of her jaw told him she was grappling with emotion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s OK. You’re right.” A shimmer of tears in her eyes made his gut clench while the hum of traffic did battle with a country tune drifting from the radio.

Cole pressed a hand to her shoulder, and the gesture reignited the wave of longing he’d once felt for her. He suddenly felt a strong desire to protect her—from what, he wasn’t sure. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you’d let me know, right?”

“Yes.” She lowered her gaze and reached for a tissue from the console.

“You promise?”

“Yes, I promise.” She dabbed her eyes. “Thank you, Cole.”

 

****

 

Rebecca had always wondered what it might feel like to choose a birthday cake design for her daughter. Now, she knew. Cole gave her free reign in the bakery.

“Leah always took care of this.” He flipped absently through a design book mounted to the counter. “It’s a girl thing, and I don’t have a clue what Kimmy might like.”

“Well,” Rebecca eased in beside him. “Is she a princess kind of girl or a tomboy?”

“I’d say she’s a hybrid.”

“That’s one I haven’t heard before.” Rebecca laughed. “What does she like to do?”

“Draw pictures, make up plays—”

“Make up plays?”

“Yeah. For her dolls and Buttercup, our cat, to star in.”

“I see.” Rebecca gazed through the display glass, her belly yawning at the variety of sweet confections. Cole eased in beside her, and the way his shoulder brushed hers brought back memories of the laughter they’d once shared at the arena. It would be wrong to say he was her first crush. What she’d once felt for him had been so much more. But she’d never acted on it—nor had he. Now she wondered, why? “What else?”

“She likes books and puzzles and fruit snacks, too.” Cole scratched his chin. “And, she’s a chocolate fiend. Gotta hide the candy or she’ll have her hands on it.”

“Just like her dad.”

“Is that a dig?”

“If the candy bar fits…” Rebecca searched through her purse. “I think I have a pad of paper and a pencil stashed somewhere in here.”

“For what?”

“I’ve got an idea.”

Once she had the tools in hand, Rebecca began to sketch a rough drawing, shading it in as she went along. She glanced up from time to time to find Cole watching, his gaze fixed on her hands.

“Kimmy grips her pencil like that when she draws.” His expressive eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“Really?”

“Yes, but not when she prints letters. It’s the strangest thing. I’ve never seen anyone else hold a pencil that way.”

“No one in your family?”

“Never. Not that it would matter. Kimmy’s adopted.”

“Oh.” The admission startled Rebecca. For a moment sound buzzed in her ears and optic stars danced, turning the shop to a fuzzy blur. The paper slipped from her hands, and she scrambled to catch it before it hit the floor. She shook her head, clearing the stars, and gulped hard to clear the shock from her throat. “And you didn’t know her birth mother?”

“No. The adoption was closed. All I know is the woman was ill and couldn’t take care of Kimmy.”

“And you believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“The people who have my daughter were most likely told the same thing about me. At the time it was true—”

“I’m not following.”

“I was in a car accident, serious enough to take my husband’s life and put me in an extended coma. I have a scar…” She took his fingers and pressed them to her hairline. “The baby came in the midst of this. I had no other family and my mother-in-law had power of attorney. She was battling cancer, and she didn’t think I would emerge for the coma…” Rebecca waved her hand as the darkness crept back. “She did what she thought was best at the time. I don’t want to talk about it now.”

“OK.” Cole’s fingers wandered from the scar to slip down her cheek. He smoothed a thumb across her jaw, collecting a stray tear. He remembered a time, once before, when he’d consoled her. “Forget I asked. It’s OK. Are you better now?”

“Physically, yes. But, emotionally…” His touch opened a well of emotions Rebecca thought had run dry. Warmth swelled in her chest. “I will only be better when I finally find her again.

“I understand.”

Two small words that meant so much. The warmth spread to Rebecca’s belly and coursed up her spine. The nape of her neck tingled, and she was thankful for the wealth of hair that covered skin that was surely flaming. She cleared her throat and plastered on a smile, though her nerves were a mass of tangled circuits. “What do you think?” She turned the sketch pad so he could see her drawing. “How about something like this?”

“That’s amazing.” Cole leaned in for a better view. She caught a whiff of his aftershave—clean and spicy with a hint of evergreen. It set off a wave of longing that had her nerves humming. “It’s in the shape of a book with puzzle pieces scattered and…are those fruit snacks mounded in the corner, and a cat?”

“Yes.”

“It’s brilliant.” Cole’s smile warmed her and helped to knit her heart back together. “Kimmy will love it.”

“We can add her favorite colors.”

“Purple and pink.”

“And use real fruit snacks.”

His gaze held hers, and Rebecca wondered if he knew what she was feeling. The mischief in his tone told her his next words held double meaning. “That will work.”

She lifted a hand to her flaming cheek. “And you’ll have to describe Buttercup. I’m not sure what he looks like.”

“He’s a calico, with gray and tan markings and white splotches on all four paws.” Cole took the sketch, his hand brushing hers. Rebecca’s pulse skittered as he handed it to the clerk. “Can you make this?”

“We can make anything.”

“With all the colors and lots of chocolate?”

“Sure.” The clerk fetched an order pad, and as she raced back to them. Rebecca wondered if she’d felt the temperature rise in the room. “Just tell me exactly what you want and when you want it.”