The Late Bloomer's Baby Read online

  After buckling him in, Callie pulled his favorite teddy bear from a diaper-bag pocket. She cranked the gear on its back that would play a tinkling version of Brahms’s “Lullaby,” then handed the toy to her son before loading the rest.

  As she drove away from the church, she wondered how much progress her sister had made with the cleanup. In addition to the house, Isabel had inherited Blumecrafts, their mother’s home-based quilt and handmades business. She had no choice but to recover quickly.

  Minutes later, Callie parked behind Josie’s building and noticed Isabel’s used two-door under the carport. Thanks to her auto insurance coverage, she’d replaced her destroyed vehicle yesterday. Unfortunately, her homeowner’s policy didn’t cover flood damage. Either her sister had dropped by to find out what Callie had learned from the financial aid people, or something had happened.

  Callie opened the rental car’s back door and released Luke from his child seat. She chuckled when he squealed and bounced in her arms. Even after his too-short nap, he’d awakened easily and happily.

  So much like his father.

  Callie shuffled Luke onto a hip, grabbed the diaper bag, decided to leave the stroller in the trunk and locked the car before heading toward the building. Seconds later, she walked straight into Josie’s apartment through the open hallway door.

  She found Isabel in the kitchen scrubbing grime from a sinkful of small craft tools. “Maybe you can leave the front door open at the house,” Callie said, “but you shouldn’t do that here. Anyone could come in.”

  Isabel didn’t turn around. She had pulled her brown hair off her neck, emphasizing a tired droop to her shoulders. “Sorry,” she said. “The kids went out to look at my car a minute ago. They thought it was new, instead of new to me. Guess they forgot about the door.”

  What kids?

  Callie frowned as a tiny girl of above five and an over-weight boy maybe twice her age, each redheaded, came running into the hallway from Josie’s bedroom. The boy yelled something about the electronic game in his hand, while the girl tried to snatch it. After pausing to check out Callie and Luke, they took their noisy argument down the hallway and back to the bedroom.

  “Who are they?” Callie asked, dropping Luke’s diaper bag on the kitchen table.

  “Roger Junior and Angie.”

  Callie had spent the past couple of days watching divorced farmer Roger Senior neglect her sister, but she hadn’t met his children until now. She frowned as the little girl’s shrieks grew louder. “Why are they here?” she asked.

  “I’m babysitting.” Isabel glanced over her shoulder and smiled, which was amazing under the circumstances. She was temporarily homeless and scrubbing her fingers raw, yet once again her boyfriend was exploiting her giving nature.

  And once again, Isabel was allowing it.

  Callie put Luke down to crawl around on the floor, then crossed the room and put her hands on her sister’s shoulders. As she pulled them into a healthier position, she said, “You’ll strain your neck muscles. Don’t you have important things to do today?”

  Isabel dropped a quilting hoop onto a towel and turned around to lean against the counter. “Yes, but Roger had some barley to check and the kids’ school is closed this week,” she said. “The kindergarten corridor got half an inch of floodwater.”

  “Roger should have kept his children home,” Callie said. “They are surely old enough to be alone an hour with their dad on the property. Especially the boy.”

  Isabel closed her eyes, as if trying to block the censure in Callie’s expression. “He gets more done with them gone.”

  “Where’s their mom?”

  “Working at the discount mart.”

  As her sister listed excuses for Roger and his ex-wife, Callie lifted her brows. After a minute, she sighed. She had often told her patient sister that Isabel would go berserk if she didn’t learn to stand up for herself, but if the devastation of a flood didn’t do it, Callie didn’t know what would.

  Luke crawled toward the kitchen door, clearly lured by the hooting coming from the bedroom. Callie chased after him and scooped him into her arms before he moved out of sight.

  “Anyway, it’s okay,” Isabel said. “Since you’re here, I can go to the house. Do you mind watching three kids for a while?”

  “Nope.” Callie intended to give her sister whatever help she needed. As she transferred Luke from one arm to the other, she realized she hadn’t told Isabel about her morning at the church. “I filed the paperwork,” she said.

  “Did they tell you anything?”

  “Just that you’d hear within six weeks,” Callie said. “But I did learn that some charities are offering immediate aid in smaller amounts. I’ll check that out tomorrow.”

  “I need money right away,” Isabel said, her blue eyes wide. “I’ll have to hire an electrician, a plumber and a couple of carpenters. We can’t handle the more complicated repairs, and I’m already behind on Blumecrafts’ orders.”

  “I know. This money is meant for toiletries and clothes.” Dropping into a chair with Luke in her arms, Callie added, “I also learned that you aren’t the only one who got caught without flood insurance, Izzy. I heard a FEMA guy say he figured that less than a hundred Augustans were covered.”

  “But there are eight thousand people living here!”

  Callie nodded, then smiled at her sister. “When I was waiting to turn in the paperwork, I got the strangest feeling. Everyone in the waiting area looked overworked, maybe a little lost. For once, I felt like one of them.”

  “I guess if there’s an upside to this flood, it’s that we Blumes are just a part of the crowd,” Isabel said. “And of course that we get to spend time together. I miss having you around, Cal.”

  Their reclusive mother hadn’t trusted school officials, and had taught Callie and her sisters at home from kindergarten through high school graduation. For the most part, she had kept them at home, isolated from a world she considered evil. They’d felt like three against the world. Sometimes, they still did.

  “I miss you and Josie, too.” Callie studied her youngest sister’s colorful kitchen. “You’ll be okay with money, I think. I’ll help with the bigger expenses until your funds come through, and Josie can help you refinish the inside of the house without it costing too much. We’re lucky to have an interior designer as a sister.”

  As Isabel nodded her agreement, a loud scream sounded from the bedroom. Both women winced, and Luke’s wiggles grew more vigorous. “I hope Josie doesn’t mind having kids in her apartment,” Isabel said. “Or us cramping her space.”

  “She’ll get over it.”

  Roger’s children raced into the kitchen, and Roger Junior interrupted the conversation to ask if he and his bird-brained sister could watch television. Then the children continued their squabbling in loud whispers that made Luke giggle.

  Had the entire world become bad mannered, or only the people in Augusta? Callie caught her sister’s eye and shook her head. Then she glared at the kids until they quieted.

  “Well, Isabel, as you were saying, I’m here now,” Callie said, hoping to send a clear message that interruptions would not be tolerated. “You can go on over to the house.”

  After Isabel had disappeared into Josie’s bedroom to get ready, Callie narrowed her gaze at Roger Junior. “One hour of television. Nothing lewd or violent.”

  She followed them into the living room, where they flopped onto the carpet in front of the TV. When Roger Junior got up to grab a bag of chips from the top of Josie’s refrigerator, Callie stopped him. “No snacks in the living room,” she said, and ignored his complaints.

  She left Luke on the living-room floor and waited for her sister to appear from the bedroom. “Will Roger’s kids eat lunch here?” she asked as Isabel carried a box of plastic gloves and some bottled cleaners to the front door.

  “Roger should arrive to get them any minute,” Isabel said. “If he doesn’t, there’s peanut butter in the pantry.”

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nbsp; After Isabel left, Callie latched a baby gate across the kitchen entrance, shut the bathroom and bedroom doors and tossed a soft ball on the floor for Luke to chase around.

  “You kids help me keep the baby safe, would you?” she bellowed over the noise of some cartoon. “If you open this gate, close it behind you. Doors, too.”

  Roger Junior pressed the mute button on the TV remote control and glanced up. “Sure, ma’am.”

  Callie noticed the change. With Isabel gone, the boy had become more respectful. Callie would guess that he took his cues from his father.

  “Ma’am?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you really a doctor?”

  Grateful for his belated show of manners, Callie smiled. “Yes. I’m not an M.D., though. I’m a research scientist.”

  “You look at human brain cells in petri dishes?”

  “Sometimes, yes.”

  The boy stuck his thumb up between them and scrunched his entire face into a smile. “Call me R.J.,” he said before he turned up the sound and returned his attention to the cartoon.

  Callie chuckled, suspecting she’d just been given a supreme compliment.

  “Can I pway wif your baby?” Angie asked.

  Callie showed her how to roll the ball to Luke, and kept watching until all three kids were occupied. Then she climbed over the baby gate to search Luke’s diaper bag for a bottle.

  Someone rang the doorbell. Must be the kids’ dad. Callie decided she’d offer to babysit for a while longer so Roger could hightail it to the house to help his girlfriend.

  “R.J., answer the door, please,” she hollered, as she crossed to the kitchen sink to fill the bottle with water. “I’ll be there in a sec.”

  Callie heard the door open, then an extended silence. She poked her head around the corner just in time to watch a tall, dark-haired man close the door behind himself.

  But it wasn’t Roger.

  It was Ethan.

  The only man Callie had ever loved or trusted, and the only man who could hurt her.

  Then. Now.

  Forever.

  Lord. In all the commotion, she’d forgotten her all-important plan. She wasn’t supposed to answer doorbells when she and Luke were alone. She should have thought harder about who might be standing on the other side of that door.

  Luke sat facing the front door and smiling with the golden-brown eyes and dimpled cheeks that made him the spitting image of his daddy.

  Rethinking her plan wasn’t an option. Callie barely remembered to keep her legs under her body. She propped a hand against the baby gate and watched as Ethan surveyed the children sprawled around Josie’s living room.

  Did his eyes linger when they passed over his son, or was that Callie’s imagination?

  Ethan’s gaze sailed across the space to meet hers. “Hello, Callie,” he said. As he stepped farther into the room, his eyes darkened to a serious brown.

  He’d reacted to seeing her, not the baby, she realized.

  Lucky thing. Callie’s secret was safe for the moment.

  Still, her pulse pounded so furiously in her ears that she had the crazy notion Ethan could hear it, too. Her throat was dry, and her muscles were wobbly.

  She needed to sit down.

  No, she needed to grab her baby and make a run for it. But Luke was very near his father, which would mean that Callie would have to dash right past Ethan on her way out.

  Right past the solid chest that had caught a million of her tears. Right past those muscular arms, and that passionate mouth.

  That damn sexy, passionate mouth.

  When her stomach flipped, Callie had the panicky thought that her raging feelings didn’t stem from fear alone. Ethan was achingly handsome, and she’d missed him.

  Desire assaulted her so hard she almost forgot she had a secret to protect. She wanted nothing more than to cross the room to touch Ethan, just to feel the crackle and comfort of a sensuality she’d never experienced with anyone else.

  It had been too long since she’d seen her husband.

  Paradoxically, it hadn’t been nearly long enough.

  Chapter Two

  Ignoring her body’s idiotic fight-or-flight response, Callie stepped over the baby gate to enter Josie’s living room. “Hello,” she said coolly, as if Ethan was an acquaintance she hadn’t seen in a while. She sat on the sofa, propped the bottle against the cushion next to her and crossed her legs, as if she had nowhere to go and nothing to lose.

  Ethan shook his head. “Is Josie dating a man with kids, or are you running a child care center?”

  The presence of Roger’s kids was fortunate. Callie wouldn’t have to strain her temporarily useless brain cells. Obviously, Ethan had assumed that Luke belonged with the other two children.

  She studied the two redheaded kids, then Luke. The baby’s hair was almost black. Except for the curls at his neck that Callie adored too much to snip off just yet, it was thick and straight—just like Ethan’s.

  Her lively boy shrieked and threw the ball straight at Angie’s face, bonking the little girl on the nose. A mischievous little brother would do such a thing, wouldn’t he? Callie could use the situation to her advantage.

  “Isabel’s got the boyfriend with kids, not Josie,” she mumbled, hoping the children wouldn’t notice her error of omission. “Why are you here?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. He stared at the kids, then caught the ball as it rocketed toward the baby’s face. He bounced it on his palm a couple of times, then tossed it to Callie.

  “No face shots,” she said as she returned the ball to Angie. “The little guy doesn’t have good motor control yet. He didn’t mean to hit you.”

  Callie looked at Ethan and wished she had the ball back. She wanted to bonk his nose and shock that warm expression from his eyes.

  “I came to check on Isabel, but no one was home when I went by her house a few minutes ago,” Ethan said.

  “She just left to head out there. You must have passed her on the road.”

  “I’ll give her a few minutes and try again.” He claimed the chair by the door, which happened to be the one nearest his son—who threw back his head and cackled exactly the way Ethan did when he was tickled.

  Someone was going to notice the resemblance.

  Callie swooped across the room and grabbed Luke, then returned to sit on the sofa and offer him the bottle of water.

  Everyone in the room stared at her.

  “It’s time for his nap,” she announced, ignoring her baby’s struggle to escape her arms.

  Of course, Ethan would check on her sister. In her heart of hearts, Callie had expected him to, hadn’t she? As many times as she’d told herself not to worry, that he might not come, she wasn’t surprised. Ethan didn’t have ties to Augusta anymore, but he’d always had a compulsion to rescue anyone in distress. That was what had attracted him to police work.

  To her, as well. She was sure of it now.

  The strength of her reaction to him had startled her, though, as had her impulse to smile and ask if he found their son amazing.

  God. She could never do that. Ethan had made his choice. He’d returned to Kansas without her. In doing so, he’d forced her to abandon one dream and focus on another.

  As Luke’s fussy whimper escalated to a lusty bawl, she stood and carried him toward the kitchen.

  Ethan spoke over the noise. “I’ve been listening to flood reports all week. I was off duty the night the water broke through the levee, but my patrol buddies made a few passes and told me about it.”

  It sounded as if he was following her. Callie stepped over the baby gate and turned around.

  He was standing just on the other side. The flimsy plastic slats separating her husband from his fussing child couldn’t possibly be tall or thick enough. Callie bounced Luke, trying to soothe him and think at the same time.

  She didn’t want Ethan’s attention on the baby, so she put Luke down and hoped he’d crawl in the other direction.

>   The ornery little guy sat peering up at his daddy, then hiccupped a few times as his cries subsided.

  Ethan chuckled. “I guess the little tyke isn’t sleepy after all,” he said, and lowered his voice. “Don’t worry. You’ll get the hang of babysitting. It just takes hands-on experience.”

  Callie ignored the comment. “You’re still in west Wichita, then?”

  “I would have told you if I’d moved.” He inched forward, until they were separated by only the slats and about a foot of space. But at least he focused on her instead of Luke. “I needed time to put our problems into perspective, but I wouldn’t lose track of you.”

  She wondered if that were true, but she couldn’t pursue the subject with Luke at her feet and Roger’s big-eared, big-mouthed children nearby.

  Ethan’s ignorance about Luke was crucial.

  It would save her son the heartache of growing up with warring parents or living a divided life.

  It would save her from having to battle her husband on any front.

  And it would save them all from Ethan’s unfortunate tendency to do the heroic thing at any cost.

  During their courtship, she and Ethan had spent a lot of time discussing her childhood. Callie’s father had left when her mother was pregnant with Josie. Despite a fierce independence, Ella Blume had struggled to raise three daughters alone. She’d always insisted that the girls’ father was worthless, and that she’d never known an honorable man.

  Ethan had wanted to prove Ella wrong, and Callie and Ethan had each wanted to prove they could make their marriage work.

  Maybe her mother had been right about some things. Maybe men weren’t built for forever. Maybe they did mistake lust for love.

  Maybe Ethan had felt only chemistry, a challenge to prove himself and sympathy for a shy young woman who’d had to be taught just about everything.

  Callie didn’t want to be his project anymore. She certainly didn’t want to be the woman he returned to because of a child. She’d loved him deeply. She’d probably always love him—from a distance.

  At this moment, Callie wanted to convince Ethan to abandon his thoughts of seeing Isabel, and leave. But how?