The Marriage Bargain. Stephanie Dees
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leaned over Cam and picked Eleanor up from his arms. The sleepy toddler buried her head in Juliet’s shoulder. “Be right back.”
In the bedroom, she flipped off the light, leaving the room bathed in the soft pink glow from the ballerina night-light. She laid Eleanor in the bed and placed her silk lovey within arm’s reach. Eleanor burrowed into the pillow and murmured, “Mama be here when I wake up?”
She brushed the wispy baby hair away from Eleanor’s eyes. “No, baby, but Aunt Lili will be here.”
“Mama with Jesus and God?” The three-year-old’s eyes never left hers. She’d asked the same questions all day, every few minutes, right after the accident. Now it was only in unguarded moments, when it was almost like she’d forgotten. Jules wanted to scream at the injustice of it all, but instead she just smiled softly at Eleanor.
“Yes, my sweet girl. Mama’s in heaven with Jesus, but I’ll be here when you go to sleep and I’ll be here when you wake up. Promise.” She held her pinkie finger out to Eleanor, who gripped it with her own small finger. They’d been doing that since Eleanor was a just a toddler. Pinkie promise, I’ll see you in a couple of weeks. Pinkie promise, I’ll bring you the best cupcake.
For the past three years, a pinkie promise had been their solemn oath—a pledge given and received with the utmost confidence. Tears filled Jules’s eyes and she blinked them back again. The pinkie promise had no power to make anything better for Eleanor. Not this time.
Jules rose slowly to her feet, grief a heavy weight on her shoulders, and another problem to shoulder was waiting for her in the living room.
Eleanor’s eyes popped open in panic. “Aunt Lili, don’t go.”
“I’ll be right outside. I’m not leaving.”
Cam glanced up from the photo album he was holding as she walked back into the living room. His eyes were glossy and her feet faltered. He gestured at the baby monitor. “I heard your conversation. Is it always like that?”
She continued to the kitchen to pick up the bottle and test the temperature on her wrist. “Yes. Not quite as bad as in the beginning, I guess.”
Jules picked Emma up from the portable crib and laughed when the baby started kicking the moment she saw the bottle. She glanced at the clock to note the time and settled in the rocking chair with a sigh.
“It seems like they’re doing really well.” He closed the photo album and set it aside. “Eleanor’s not that much younger than Glory was when I left home. Her hair’s a little lighter, but she’s got Glory’s eyes and smile. Her spunk, too. It’s...”
“Uncanny. I know. She’s funny, too, or at least she was. Before.” Jules paused. “People say kids are resilient. I hope that’s true, for their sake.”
He was quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I hope so.”
“Cameron, why didn’t you ever try to make contact? Clearly, you’ve been very successful as an adult.” That was, if his fancy watch was any indication.
A frown wrinkled his brow. “From all accounts, Glory seemed to be happy. I guess I told myself she didn’t need me stirring up the past. I thought I’d—I don’t know—have more time.”
“And now? Why did it take you so long to get here?”
“I was out of the country. Off the grid.” He grimaced. “Way off the grid. I write adventure travel books and it took some time for my office to find me.”
She hadn’t expected that excuse. “What do you want? I’m sorry to blurt it out like that, but I’m a practical person. I don’t like unanswered questions and I hate surprises.”
A slow smile spread across his face and those crystal clear green eyes warmed. Her heart picked up speed.
Huh. That was a reaction to mull over later.
“I didn’t know where the girls were. Or more important, if they were safe.” He shrugged, spreading his hands. “It’s really very simple. I came for them.”
“And now that you know they’re safe?” Her voice was soft because she was holding the baby, but what she felt inside had jagged edges.
He didn’t look away. “I’m still here for them.”
She shifted the sleeping Emma to her shoulder and patted the baby’s back. “Do you know what Eleanor’s middle name is?”
“No.”
“It’s Cameron. Her name is Eleanor Cameron.” The words stuck in her throat—they were so painful and so hard because her friend wasn’t here to say them herself. “I know Glory would want you to know your namesake. She’d want you to be a part of their lives, so I’m not going to stand in your way. But if you hurt them, there won’t be a second chance.”
“I’m not gonna...” He rubbed a hand over his close-shaved hair, impatience simmering in the move. “Okay, that’s fair, I guess. I haven’t exactly been present the past few years.”
“Take some time to think about it, because the girls need people who will stick around.”
He nodded slowly, rising to his feet. He picked up his jacket from the back of the chair where he’d slung it when he arrived. “I haven’t had a family in a really long time, Jules. I’m not about to mess this up. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Juliet watched as he walked across the room, pulled open the door and strode through it. When the door closed behind him, she let her head drop back onto the cushion. Either she was doing the right thing letting Cameron into their lives—and she really, really hoped she was—or she was making the biggest mistake of her life.
Cam stepped out of the rental car and squinted up at the house he’d come to see. He’d called a real estate agent about looking at some properties. Jules had said last night that the girls needed someone who would stick around.
He’d spent his entire adult life traveling from one exotic locale to the next, moving on just when things started to get real. He was good at short-term relationships, sliding in and out of other cultures with ease.
It was the long-term ones that gave him pause. But that would have to change if he wanted a relationship with his nieces.
Tires crunched on the driveway behind him and he turned to see a patrol car cruising toward him. Perfect. Just what he wanted to do today: deal with a cop who wanted to bust his chops for no reason.
A muscular man with short-clipped hair and mirrored aviator glasses stepped out of car. “Cameron Quinn?”
“That’s me.” He walked closer to the huge cop, eyes on the hand closest to the service weapon still snapped in the guy’s holster. Cam was a black man on someone else’s property and, like it or not, that made him a target. “Can I help you?”
The hand slowly extended and a smile spread across the cop’s face. “You don’t remember me, do you? Joe Sheehan. We were in the same class in the fourth grade.”
Cam gripped Joe’s hand, hyperawareness slipping away as he laughed. “Oh, yeah, it’s been a while. I’m not sure you had those biceps in the fourth grade.”
Joe chuckled. “No, I was pretty hungry in those days. I heard you were back in town. Planning to stay awhile?”
“Thinking about it. My nieces are here.”
Joe nodded. “I know. They live with my sister.”
“I forget just how small small towns are.”
The cop laughed again. “Yeah, I moved back a couple of years ago and it was definitely an adjustment. Fortunately, there are some