Keeping Caroline Page 3

  “If I help you fix this place up, you’ll sign the papers? As they’re written?”

  “I’ll negotiate with you on the settlement. We’ll come up with something fair. That’s the best promise you’re going to get from me.”

  Matt studied the warped linoleum at his feet. “It’ll take weeks. I—I’d have to have somewhere to stay.”

  Caroline hadn’t thought of that. It wasn’t as though Sweet Gum had a Holiday Inn, and she certainly couldn’t have him stay here. Not until she broke the news to him. “You remember Cora and Ed Johnson? They rent out rooms sometimes. They need the income now that Mr. Johnson can’t work the fields the way he used to. And they know you. I’m sure they’d love to have you stay with them.”

  “Work—”

  “Unless your habits have changed, you’ve taken exactly one day of leave in the last six years—the day we buried Brad.”

  Pain swam across his face, but he hid it quickly.

  “I think the department owes you some time off.”

  “Paige is getting married in a few weeks. I have to be there.”

  “It’s only a two-and-a-half-hour drive. You can go back whenever you need to.”

  Matt turned to the window, where a swallow landed on the birdfeeder hung outside. “She was disappointed you didn’t R.S.V.P.”

  Caroline’s heart fluttered like the wings of the tiny bird Matt had been watching. She’d been close to Matt’s sister, Paige. They’d gone to school together in Sweet Gum before Matt’s family moved to Port Kingston. She’d love to go to Paige’s wedding, but she could hardly show up at the church with a baby in tow.

  A baby no one in its daddy’s family—including its daddy—knew about.

  A few weeks, that was all she was asking for after fifteen years of marriage. Time to judge Matt’s state of mind. To figure out how he would react when she told him the choice whether or not to have another child had been taken out of his hands.

  God had made the decision for him fourteen months ago, the last time Matt made love to her.

  “One month,” she said, swallowing a lump of apprehension and sidestepping the issue of Paige’s wedding. “You give me one month of hard labor. I’ll give you your divorce.”

  Caroline unlatched the baby from her breast and smiled down into her daughter’s heart-shaped face. Hailey made milky guppy-lips, but Caroline recognized the sucking as more of a comfort motion than hunger. Hailey’s eyelids sagged over pale, green irises. Most babies’s eyes changed color as they grew, but Caroline suspected Hailey’s eyes would always look like a fresh spring meadow.

  Just like her father’s.

  The baby flung one fist in the air in an effort to keep herself awake, her lashes fluttering wide open for a second. Then, losing the battle, she went limp in her mother’s arms. Caroline draped the infant over her shoulder. Tiny ribs rose and fell beneath her palm in fragile little breaths. Wee puffs of air warmed her cheek. The scent of talcum and gentle soap enveloped her, cuddled her, and made her feel safe the way she cuddled and made Hailey feel safe.

  She was spoiling Hailey, holding her so much. Keeping her so close, day and night. But the drive to protect her at all costs ran strong inside Caroline. Born against all the odds, Hailey was her miracle baby. Her second chance.

  After they’d had Brad, she and Matt had tried twice more to make a child. But each time an early miscarriage had crushed their hopes for a large family. Although the doctors said their was no physical reason she couldn’t carry a baby to term, she and Matt had finally decided to stop trying. The strain of losing their unborn children was just too difficult, and Matt feared another failed pregnancy might put Caroline’s health at risk. So they’d given up having more children and focused all their love and energy on Brad instead. They cherished their son, and he flourished under their care.

  Until three years ago, at age eleven, when Matt and Caroline began to notice how easily he tired and the boyhood scrapes and bruises that seemed to take too long to heal.

  He died a year later. Too young. Too innocent.

  When he was gone, Caroline felt more alone than she ever had in her life. After a time of grieving, she wanted to try again to have a baby. To fill the empty space in her life.

  But Matt had flatly refused. They were too old. It was too risky. He wasn’t ready.

  She’d stayed with him another year, hoping he would change, heal, before she finally accepted the truth.

  He would never be ready.

  Out of the corner of her eye Caroline saw Savannah sweep into the room, all brisk efficiency.

  “That him?” Jeb’s mother and Caroline’s business partner asked, looking out the window over Caroline’s shoulder.

  Caroline studied the gray cloud roiling steadily down the gravel road. “Can’t imagine who else could kick up all that dust.”

  “It’s a long way to the Johnson farm. You could have offered to pick him up, see’ns how he’s going to be working for you for free.”

  “He likes to run in the morning. Clears his mind for the day, he says.”

  “Humph. When folks are on top of the world, running clears their minds. When they’re hurting, it’s just a way to substitute one kind of pain for another.”

  Caroline smiled, turned to her friend. As always, Savannah’s warm, brown eyes welcomed her. “You think it’s symbolic? Like he’s running away or something?”

  “He’s not running away, honey. He’s running right to you.” The weather lines around Savannah’s eyes crinkled. “Now that’s symbolic.”

  Savannah plucked Hailey from Caroline’s shoulder. She fussed with the baby’s sleeper and smoothed a broad palm over an upturned lock of hair on the crown of her head.

  “Is that your psychology degree talking, or your mothering instincts?” Caroline asked.

  “Don’t let this gray hair fool you, honey.” She tugged at the black, curly tufts threaded with silver. “You’re a year older than I am. So don’t be calling me your mother.”

  Caroline laughed. “Why is it that I get to be older, but you get to be wiser?”

  Savannah’s stately features took on a remote look. “Hard livin’, honey. And it ain’t nothing to wish for.”

  Before Caroline could comment, Savannah peered out the window and whistled. “Would you look at that? I haven’t seen a body like that in—well, I haven’t ever seen a body like that!” She fanned herself with a clean diaper.

  Matt had arrived. Wearing nothing but a pair of running shorts, he stood in the yard, bent in half and dousing his head with the garden hose. His body sparkled with glistening droplets. Alf sat beside him. When Matt finished rinsing himself, he turned the hose on the dog. Alf lapped up the spray, then man and dog shook their heads with equal ferocity, winging water in a ten-foot circle around them.

  Caroline elbowed Savannah. “That’s my husband’s butt you’re ogling.”

  “Mmm, and a fine butt it is, too.”

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be. Like work?”

  “My first patient isn’t until ten. Plenty of time for me to make us all some breakfast and keep my ears open for this little beauty of ours while you talk to the bu—” Her eyes twinkled. “Your husband.”

  “Savannah—” Caroline clutched her friend’s arm and kept her from turning away. She hadn’t talked with Savannah professionally in months. Since their relationship had progressed beyond doctor-patient into solid friendship and they’d struck this business deal. But she had questions now, and nowhere else to turn with them. “I’m afraid.”

  A sudden protectiveness flashed across Savannah’s face. “Physically?”

  “No. Matt would never hurt me, not physically.” She dropped her hand from Savannah’s arm and turned back to the window.

  “But he has hurt you emotionally.”

  “We hurt each other.”

  “And all those old wounds are about to be reopened.”

  Caroline swallowed around the lump in her throat, nodded. Without hearing her move,
Caroline felt Savannah’s hand land on her shoulder. Strong fingers squeezed, held her.

  “Have you ever heard that a quick, clean cut heals faster than a slow, jagged tear?” Savannah asked.

  On the lawn below, Matt unzipped a gym bag and donned a navy-blue Port Kingston P.D. T-shirt.

  “You think I should tell him right away?” Caroline surmised.

  “Does he deserve any less?”

  “What about what I deserve? What Hailey deserves—a father who wants and loves her?”

  “How can he love something he doesn’t know exists?”

  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 pushed on one of the porch’s corner posts. Rotted wood crumbled beneath his fingers.

  “Kids need sunshine,” she said hopefully. “But you know h
ow the weather is out here, half the year it’s too hot to go outside and the other half it’s bitter cold. Can you do it?”

  “This wood is in bad shape,” he said. “It would have to be completely reframed.” Then, seeing her crestfallen expression, he sighed. “But I’ll figure out something. I’m going to need to borrow your car to get some supplies from town. And I’ll need tools.”

  “Everything I’ve got is outside in the shed. You can buy whatever else you’ll need. I’ll give you some money.”

  He gave her a look that said not in this lifetime and headed out.

  “Matt, wait.” Propped against a lopsided screen door, she chewed her lower lip. “Have I ever given you reason to think that I blamed you for…what happened?”

  The slumbering beast he’d caged deep inside himself rumbled, stretched in slow awakening. “It was a long time ago. What does it matter now?”

  “That’s not an answer.”

  “What do you want to hear?”

  “The truth. I want to know if you thought I blamed you when Brad died.”

  He shrugged and started to turn away. She stopped him, her fingers digging pits in his biceps.

  “Matt?”

  “Except for the years I was away in the army, I’ve looked out for you since you were twelve years old. I’ve made sure nothing ever hurt you.”

  “And?”

  “And when Brad was sick, sometimes you looked at me like you couldn’t understand why I wasn’t looking out for you then. Why I wasn’t protecting both of you.”

  “It was leukemia, Matt. No one could have protected us from that.”

  He could have contacted more doctors, Matt wanted to argue. Found one with a treatment none of the dozens of others he’d contacted knew of. He could have taken his son to another hospital. He’d flown with Brad to St. Jude’s in Tennessee—the best of the best when it came to treating children’s cancer in the U.S.—but he could have taken him to one of the research centers in Europe. He was his father. He should have been able to do something.

  Matt wanted to tell Caroline she was right to hold him accountable, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t speak at all. His jaw had hardened to the point he thought it might shatter.