Keeping Caroline. Vickie Taylor
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As if she’d heard her name, Hailey fussed in her sleep. Caroline took the baby to the bassinet and tucked her in, avoiding Savannah’s eyes.
“What’s the real reason you haven’t told him about Hailey?”
Caroline shut her eyes and looked deep inside herself, but if the answers were there, they were lost in the dark.
“Are you trying to punish him?”
“For what? I’m the one who left him.”
Savannah’s footfalls fell softly to Caroline’s side. Cool knuckles brushed the bangs from her forehead. “For letting Bradley die?”
Chapter 2
The hinges screeched when he opened the screened door. Mentally, Matt added one more repair to his already-lengthy list.
“Jebediah Justiss, if you take one step out of this house before you eat your breakfast you’re in big, big trouble,” a firm voice called from the kitchen.
“Maaaaa!” Jeb complained. The boy sat on the floor in the living room, engaged in an action figure fight-to-the-death. In a playpen next to him, two toddlers tugged on opposite ends of a stuffed rabbit, babbling at each other in no language Matt had ever heard.
“It’s not Jeb, ma’am. It’s, uh, Matt Burkett.”
A black woman appeared in the kitchen doorway, wiping her hands on a red-checked apron. She was thin as a rail, but looked strong as steel. Her face lit up when she smiled. “Mr. Burkett, come in. I’m Savannah Justiss. Pancakes?”
“No. Thank you.”
“Suit yourself. Jeb, breakfast will be ready in two minutes.” With that, she turned back into the kitchen.
One of the twins managed to pull the rabbit out of the other’s grip. The empty-handed toddler squalled.
“Jeb, would you see what’s wrong with those babies?” Savannah called from the kitchen.
Sighing, Jeb set his action men aside and felt his way to the playpen. His hands groped for the stuffed animal. “That wasn’t very nice, Max. You’re s’posed to share with Rosie.”
“You can tell them apart?” Matt asked, studying the identical girls—not that appearance mattered to Jeb—even as he tried to suppress the ache in his chest that came with looking at anyone under the age of twenty-one.
“’Course.” With a yank, Jeb freed the rabbit and held it out toward the other twin’s snivels. The rabbit-less twin yodeled. “That’s Max’s voice.” The second toddler joined in the noisemaking, a symbiotic cry. Jeb clamped his hands over his ears. “And that’s Rosie,” he shouted.
Savannah came to the rescue, clucking over the playpen. “Jeb, your pancakes are on the table.”
Jeb obediently headed into the kitchen, action figures stretched in front of him for protection, like a cowcatcher on a train. Heaving a twin onto each hip, Savannah followed.
“If you won’t have breakfast, at least come sit a minute, Mr. Burkett. Have some coffee.”
Seeing no escape without being downright rude, Matt trailed behind them. “Call me Matt. And I was looking for Caroline.”
“She’s upstairs putting her face on,” Savannah said, settling the girls into matching high chairs and handing them each a sippy cup. Max and Rosie resumed their good-natured Martian chatter, the rabbit forgotten for the moment. “Give her a minute.”
Caroline putting on makeup? She rarely wore cosmetics, and never around the house. Pondering the significance of her taking time for makeup on his first day here, he took a seat at the kitchen table. It didn’t take long for him to wish he’d waited outside. As he watched Jeb wolf down pancakes as if the boy had a hollow leg to store them in, his heart gave its usual twist in the presence of children.
Jeb reached forward, feeling his way along the table, looking for his juice glass. “Where’s your dog?” he asked.
“Outside.”
“Can I pet him?” His hand flopped across the tablecloth like fish on land.
“No.” Matt winced at the harshness of his voice. Silently he leaned across the table and pushed the glass in front of Jeb’s hand. Savannah must have seen him as she turned, because she smiled gratefully.
Matt turned his gaze out the window. “I’m sorry. But I told you, he’s a police dog, not a pet.”
“Jeb, you stay away from that dog, you hear me?”
Jeb managed an injured look even as he downed half a glass of OJ in one swallow. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Mississippi, right?” Matt guessed, watching Savannah wipe her hands on her apron.
“What?”
“Your accent. You from Mississippi?”
“Georgia,” she said. “But my family’s from Mississippi. Maybe I picked up a little bit of their voice.” After a moment she added, “You’re good with accents.”
He shrugged. “I’m a cop. I notice details.” And not just accents. He noticed lots of details—such as the fact that Savannah walked with her shoulders slightly hunched and never quite turned her back on him.
He was still wondering why when Caroline came downstairs. Immediately he understood why she had taken the time for makeup. Judging by the puffy half-moons under her eyes, she hadn’t slept any better than he had.
Did she really think he didn’t know her well enough to see through a little cream and powder?
“Good morning,” she said, a little too brightly.
“Morning.” Because he couldn’t figure out what else to do with his hands, he wiped his palms on his jeans. A lifetime ago he would have wrapped her up in a bear hug, lifted her off her feet and kissed her until the serious little hooks at the corners of her mouth turned upward and a spark of laughter lit her tired eyes. But those days were gone forever. It was best to not focus on the past.
He’d come here to get on with his life, not to look back.
“Breakfast?” Savannah asked Caroline.
Caroline shook her head. She spread her palm across Jeb’s nappy crown and shook. “Morning, little rebel.”
Jeb smiled, pancakes puffing his cheeks out like a chipmunk’s. “Mornin’, Miss Caroline.”
Matt stood. “I thought we could walk around the house today. You can show me what you want done so I can get together a list of the materials I’ll need.”
They strolled through the house, intimate strangers, discussing pulling up musty carpeting and restoring the hardwood floors beneath; replacing windows warped shut; modernizing the kitchen and enlarging the laundry room. At the staircase, he started up.
Caroline tugged on his sleeve. “No. The upstairs isn’t too bad. It’s just my living quarters, anyway, and the nursery.”
Matt stiffened instinctively. “Nursery?”
“One of my little charges is an infant, almost five months old. I moved the nursery upstairs so she’d be away from the noise and the dust when you start working.”
Nodding so that he wouldn’t have to talk around the lump in his throat, Matt followed her. God, a baby. He didn’t know how Caroline did it. It hurt him just to think about a tiny, dependent life lying up there.
Caroline led him to the worst part of the house, the old den and semi-enclosed back porch. “This will be the center of the day care. If we knock out the wall here.” She pointed to the back door. “And enclose the outside but leave lots of windows, it would be like a big solarium. A bright, sunny playroom.”
Matt