Marie groaned. “I can’t believe I said that to you.”
“We’re both raw. I can’t see any sense in wasting our energy putting on a big act with each other. I’m not myself right now, either. I’m blurting out stuff and look—I grabbed Luke and jumped on the plane without even calling ahead.”
“So you’re not usually this impulsive?”
“The most impulse thing I’ve done in the recent past is—” He had to pause and think. “Probably to whistle along with something on the radio. From the way I’ve acted in the last twenty-four hours, you’d never guess I’m the most boring man in the world.”
“You? Boring? Based on your boring track record, I wouldn’t let you read Ricky a bedtime story. He’d be up all night with nightmares!”
Peter turned the tables on her. “Bet you didn’t sleep much last night.”
She hitched her shoulder.
“Go ahead and take a nap.”
“Can’t.”
She lowered her lids, and Peter knew full well she was trying to shield him from the emotional tumult in her eyes. “Even if you can’t sleep, rest a little. Sandy is able to hold down the fort.”
Peter shepherded Marie to the door of the master bedroom. The room looked off balance. A cherrywood dresser stood to the extreme side on one wall. Sandy’s hospital bed was next to the door, but they’d left enough room for her to maneuver her wheelchair. That left barely enough room for Marie’s double bed to be crammed into the remaining space. Even so, both beds had white eyelet dust ruffles and matching mint-and-white striped comforters.
She’d moved everything like puzzle pieces until they fit. It reminded Peter of how complex it would be for her to account for all of the factors in her life. He softened his voice into a rare mildness and said, “We’ll work things out in time. If you’re worn to a frazzle, it’ll complicate matters.”
“They can’t get any more complex than this.”
He winked. “Then imagine—they can only improve.”
“Are you usually an optimist, Peter Hallock?”
“I’m a realist.” He resisted the impulse to caress her cheek. “If you come out of here before three o’clock, I’m going to do something drastic.”
“Three!”
“Three.”
“I don’t take kindly to threats.”
“I don’t make them lightly,” he shot back. “If I shut the door, can Ricky open it?”
“He just learned that stunt.”
“Luke can’t—at least, not that I know of—but he’s chunky enough that if he bumps into the door a few times, the latches give. I can see these two are going to teach each other any number of naughty tricks.”
Marie leaned against the doorsill and gave him a jaundiced look. “I’m supposed to sleep after you said that?”
“I’ll bet you could sleep through a six-point earthquake once you close your eyes.” He nudged her inside, pulled the door shut and stood on the other side for a minute. He caught himself just before he used the adjective pretty when he mentioned her eyes. They were pretty. Beautiful, as a matter of fact. Marie Cadant was a very attractive woman. He rubbed his hand over his jaw and shook his head to clear away those errant thoughts.
Sandy’s wheelchair whirred down the hall. She looked at the closed door, at him and then jerked her head toward the living room and spun back around. Once they both got out of Marie’s earshot, Sandy warned, “Don’t even think of asking to sleep here tonight. When Marie has nightmares, she comes out here to read her Bible. Upset as she is, she’s going to be up again tonight.”
“Has it occurred to you that maybe I could keep her company and calm her?”
“Not a chance. The only man who ever got past her guard was Jack.”
“Jack died two years ago,” he said in an equally muted tone.
“In that very room,” Sandy informed him. “She brought him home to die. He was shot in the head.”
Peter sucked in a sharp breath.
“The doctor gave him maybe two weeks.” Sandy shook her head. “For three months, Marie tended him and did everything he needed. She was too proud to ask for help, and I was too selfish to think of offering.”
“Sandy—”
She shook her head to cut him off. “I see how hard she has to work to help me. It must’ve been ten times harder with Jack. She took care of him all by herself, and Ricky was younger and more dependent.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I swear, Peter Hallock, I’ll do anything to protect her. If you hurt her…”
Peter half collapsed on the sofa. He shook his head dumbly. “What it took for her to get through all of that…”
“Don’t make it harder on Marie. She can’t take anything more. She can’t!” Sandy wiped her face with her sleeve.
“How much does Ricky understand?”
Her eyes darkened with pain. “He doesn’t remember Jack at all. No matter how bad things are, Marie is always patient with Ricky. He trusts her to be the center of his world, and he depends on her to be stable.”
Staring at a picture on the mantel of Marie holding Ricky, Peter let out a noisy gust of air. “And the earth just shifted in its axis.”
When Marie woke up, she felt completely disoriented. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a nap. Her head felt stuffy, and she had a weird kink in her neck. She listened for a minute as she sat on the edge of her bed. The silence unnerved her. She bolted to her feet and flew to the door.
Marie came to a skidding halt at the end of the hall. Sandy was chattering on the telephone. Ricky was nowhere in sight. “Where is he?”
Sandy tilted her head and mouthed, “In the backyard.”
Spinning back around, Marie almost lost traction on the freshly polished hardwood. She regained her balance, darted down the hallway and headed toward the porch. Her impulse was to open the door and shout Ricky’s name, but the sound wouldn’t come as she spied them through the window that comprised the upper half of the door.
Peter knelt in the dirt between Luke and Ricky. Their heads were together, glowing in the afternoon sunlight and they all made truck sounds as they played with an assortment of vehicles. Clearly, they were having a wonderful time. Marie carefully opened the door and eased it shut behind herself.
“Okay, speedy guys,” Peter said. “We have a nice, smooth course. Grab your cars. We’re going to race now.”
“My fire truck is fast,” Ricky boasted.
“Yeah, tiger, I’ll bet you’re the fastest thing around here.” Peter must have sensed Marie’s presence, because he turned toward her, winked and said, “I’ll bet we’re all the dirtiest things around here, too.”
“Dirt washes off,” Marie said softly.
“Daddy, I want to race!” Luke yanked on Peter’s arm.
“Me, too!” Ricky zoomed his fire truck across a dirt path.
“Hang on, boys.” He stood up and dusted his knees. “Did you have plans, Marie?”
She watched the uncertain look in Peter’s eye and she felt a surge of generosity. If she and Peter were ever going to work out this mess and get along, she would have to allow him to get to know Ricky. “Go ahead and have fun. I’ve got a few things to do inside. You boys behave yourselves and have a good time.”
Peter’s face split into a beaming smile. “We’ll do our best.”
Marie went back inside and searched for the grocery list. “Sandy, have you seen—”
“Peter went to the grocery store while you and the boys napped. The man’s hopeless. I haven’t seen more junk food in a month of Sundays. Want a cookie?”
“No, thanks.” She snooped in the pantry and tilted her head. The cans and boxes were all ones she would have chosen. “How did he know what to buy?”
“He asked me about brands and stuff. He’s pretty nice when he calms down.”
“There’s dim praise.”
“Raffy dropped by and took care of the bathtub drain. He used some pretty colorful language in front of Ricky, so don’t be surprised if he suddenly spouts off a few choice phrases.”
Marie sighed. “Thanks for the warning.” A tiny surge of relief washed over her. The Blue Wall still stood strong, and Jack’s friends on the force hadn’t stopped watching over her and Ricky. Though she appreciated their help and knew they’d bailed her out of several costly repairs by doing the work as a favor, Marie still struggled when they dropped by. Often they came right after work, but if they were assigned to the beat with her tract, they knew she had an open-door policy. Two of the guys showed up and built the ramp for Sandy the day she arrived, just so she wouldn’t have to come and go out the back door. A week later, during the first rain of the season, one of them had been on duty and stopped off to be sure the ramp wouldn’t be too slick. The sight of a man in the same uniform Jack had worn made her miss him that much more.
Sandy broke through her sad thoughts. “Are you going to ask Peter to stay for supper?”
“I don’t have much of a choice, Sandy. He’s got a right to see Ricky. If I get prickly, then he won’t let me see Luke.”
“He and Luke are a package deal.” Sandy glanced toward the backyard where the boys both cheered about something. “But it looks like he’s a good dad, Marie. Not many men are that clever with kids.”
Marie dug through her freezer and took out another package of pork chops. She’d already started thawing a package this morning, before he and Luke pulled their surprise arrival. And it’s turned out to be a pleasant surprise so far. Lord, I asked You to keep Your hand over this. Please don’t let go.
A little while later, Marie returned to the backyard. She couldn’t stay away. As she walked toward the dirt pile, Peter held his hand up and pushed his palm toward her. “Better keep your distance, ma’am. Men at work here. Grubby, filthy men.”
“Mommy, I’m dirty!” Ricky brushed off the firefighter emblem on his shirt and smeared the dirt more. He didn’t look repentant in the least; he looked downright proud of his grimy hands.
“Me, too!” Luke held out his hands for inspection.
“I can see that. Your boss is almost as big of a mess as you are.”
Marie let Peter continue to play with them as she weeded and pruned. He’d come over, swipe some of her clippings and go “plant” them in the dirt pile to provide landscape for the city and racetrack he and they boys were making. Marie mentally corrected herself. He was constructing; the boys were wrecking havoc on whatever their little cars and trucks encountered.
The very low-key ordinariness of the late afternoon helped her tremendously. In the midst of such an upheaval, the fact that simple everyday play and chores still carried on gave a measure of sanity to her precarious world.
When the boys’ interest finally flagged, Marie decided, “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She held the hose while they all splashed, squished and rinsed. She swiped at a smudge on Luke’s cheek. “You have dirt here.”
“Do this.” Peter demonstrated cupping his hands, filling them with water, and making a bubbling sound as he stuck his face in, then scrubbed his cheeks.
Both boys laughed.
Marie watched in amusement as both boys used Peter’s technique to “wash” their faces. Both of them got more water on their shoes than on their faces.
As they headed into the house, Marie felt a flicker of hope. If this was a true example of how Peter and the boys got along, with a lot of time and effort, they might be able to arrive at a workable solution.
As they finished supper, Peter winked at Marie. “Luke likes bedtime stories. What about Rick?”
Clearly, he remembered what she’d said about him boring her son into nightmares with his bedtime stories. She called, “Ricky, get your book and take it to Aunt Sandy.” There. Took care of that.
Ricky grabbed his Bible storybook and climbed onto Sandy’s lap. Luke tentatively tiptoed over, and at Ricky’s invitation, he scrambled up and joined them. She read to them as Marie and Peter washed the dishes. Luke nodded off before the story was over.
The way Peter snatched up Ricky after things were done almost shattered Marie’s heart. He did it so naturally, but the move showed a thirst to make and foster a budding connection—a connection that would be for keeps. She closed her eyes at that thought. For keeps…he wanted his son. He wanted Ricky, not just for a few moments or a little pal, but as his very own, under his roof, in his heart and for a lifetime. She couldn’t blame him, but she couldn’t give in, either.
Marie opened her eyes again and watched Peter. Strong, yet gentle, he clutched Ricky to himself with a fierceness that defied words. The mixture of love and anguish on his face made Marie turn and walk away. In the few moments she’d held Luke, she’d fallen head over heels in love; so she knew she couldn’t expect Peter to care any less for his own biological son, even if it caused her these moments of soul-deep torment.
Marie quietly slipped Luke into the upper bed of the trundle, then readied the lower mattress for Ricky. Peter’s low chuckle blended with Ricky’s delighted squeals. Airplane noises and more peals of laughter filtered through the door. “Do it again!”
Marie’s head bowed in a moment of pain. Jack would have loved to hear those words. I can’t keep living in the past or wish for what might have been. She finally summoned enough of a voice to call, “Bedtime, Ricky.”
Peter held Ricky securely around the torso and legs and “flew” him into the room like an airplane. They came directly to the bedside. Instead of putting him down, Peter turned Ricky, gave him a big hug then settled him into Marie’s arms. Smiling at her, he whispered, “Do you say night-night prayers, too?”
“Uh-huh,” Ricky said, “Mommy helps.”
Peter knelt down next to Marie and wedged Ricky between them. “Okay.”
Marie slanted him a strained look and decided not to make an issue of his presence. He’d already handed Ricky back. As astute as he was, surely Peter intended it as a signal of his awareness that she was still in charge. She started the prayer, and Ricky quickly joined in, “Now I lay me down to sleep…”
After the usual prayer he’d said by rote, she’d taught Ricky to ask God to bless others. Tonight, his clear, sweet voice continued, “And God bless Mommy and Auntie Sandy and my fire truck. God bless Angel Daddy in heaven and—” he paused, cranked his head to the side and peeked with eyes rounded with adoration “—and God bless Mr. Peter and Brother. Amen.”
Marie tenderly tucked Ricky in bed and avoided looking at the tall stranger, but she felt his eyes on her. Ricky’s prayer knocked him for a loop, and she should have known it would happen, but the last part almost tore her apart, too. She turned on the night-light and made her way out to the hallway before she had to slump against the wall.
Peter came out, wrapped an arm around her and led her out to the patio. She melted almost spinelessly onto one of the battered lounge chairs. Before she could say anything, he asked softly, “When did you start praying for ‘Mr. Peter’ and ‘Brother,’ Marie?”
She stared at her hands. “As soon as I knew.”
“We rated below his fire truck,” he said ruefully. “I guess I have my work cut out for me.”
“His fire truck is his all-time favorite.”
“I noticed that when we played in the dirt today. He’s a joy, Marie.”
Nodding, she made no effort to converse.
He tested the webbing on the other lounger, then sat down. The plastic made an odd screech beneath him, but it held his weight. Silence swirled between them.
Leaning forward so his forearms rested on his knees, Peter stared at her intently. “Marie, let’s make this work. You’ve been so gracious today. You even let me play with the boys all alone. You’ve even included Luke and me in your prayers. I scared you terribly yesterday. First impressions are hard to shake, and I don’t blame you for being wary. Believe me—nothing is more important to me than the boys. By that, I mean both of them. Give me a chance to prove that we can work together for their sakes.”
“I’m not a gambler, Mr. Hallock. You want me to risk everything. I can’t—” her voice cracked, and she finished in a sickened hush “—do that.”
“Maybe we need to think of this as gaining our new sons without losing our old sons. This doesn’t have to be a loss—not if we’re creative.”
“I don’t believe in deluding myself. It’s much less painful in the end if I face facts early on.”
“What facts?”
“You’re wealthy and powerful. I’m poor and very ordinary. In the passage of time, you’ll play those strengths against me.”
“What does that mean?”
“Luke is spoiled beyond imagining with every material thing a child could want. You’ll be able to do the same for Ricky. You can hire others to do chores and manipulate circumstances to your benefit. I have nothing to offer but my love.”
“Nothing is more important than that!”
Tears streaked down her cheeks. “True, but you can offer that, as well, Peter Hallock. You love those boys, too. In the end, the scales won’t balance. I wish I wouldn’t have ever pursued this mess, because I’m going to lose everything now.”