Barbara's Plea (6 page)

I
had been living
at the Withers Estate for a week now. It was amazing how much more relaxed I was when I didn’t have to worry about whether my electricity was going to be turned off, or if I had enough money left after paying bills to buy food.

Gloria had paid me five thousand dollars to get started, and almost all of that I sent out immediately to start paying off the medical bills. I had a long way to go, but at least for now, the noose seemed to have loosened a bit.

Gloria and I were having coffee in the library. We’d had a late dinner because she had a meeting for her hospital wing that had run late. Amelia had just brought us pie, and we were settled back in the leather couches talking about the designs we had finalized.

I had already started working on the template for the rocking chairs, and we were still tossing around ideas for the toy boxes she was going to donate to a children’s center.

Headlights slashed across the room briefly, and Gloria turned toward the window. “Who could be coming to my house this late?” she wondered aloud.

The phone on her desk began to ring. This particular phone was her private line. I had learned that last night when it had rung while we were having dessert, no one but her was to answer it.

“How about I go check to see who is here while you answer that?”

She nodded in agreement and got up slowly.

In this last week, I had already noticed she was slowing down and looked more tired than she had when we’d first met. The disease was progressing quickly.

I sighed as I walked toward the foyer. I hated the fact that someone else I cared about was going to die from cancer, yet I couldn’t walk away from her, not when she needed someone in her life.

She had told me that she had two sons, one with whom she had been very close, the other not so much. Her younger son, Don, had passed away a few years ago from a heart attack while playing golf. The older one lived down south someplace, and she never spoke to him.

Somewhere out there she had four grandchildren, but only one of them stayed in contact with her, and he lived in Michigan.

It was a shame that such an amazing woman was relatively alone. Not anymore, I thought, she has me. I’ll do whatever I can for her while I’m here—and I’ll start by finding out who is in her driveway.

I pulled open the door and found the car parked out front, the silhouette of someone in the front seat, head bent over the steering wheel. I squinted as I tried to see what he was doing. The light from the porch shined out just enough that I could distinguish long blond hair.

I stepped out the door and waited for the driver to look up. The head was shaking up and down. Was it a she? Was she crying?

I walked down the three steps and began to cross the driveway to the car. The woman never looked up, but the closer I got, the better I could see, and she was indeed crying.

I tapped a knuckle gently on the window, and she jumped, turning a tear-stained face my way, the most beautiful tear-stained and emotional face I had ever seen. The stark pain in her eyes forced me back a step. She swiped her hands over her face quickly as she tried to gather herself, then she reached for the door handle.

She looked up at me before she opened it, and instead of pulling the lever, lowered the window. “Who are you?” she asked.

I stared down at her. “Who am I? Who are you?”

She glanced at the house. “I asked you first.”

“My name is Grey Bloodstone.”

She quirked her eyebrows and laughed, “That’s your name?” Even though I should have been insulted at her question, the sound of her laugh touched something deep inside of me.

“Yes, that’s my name, and what is yours?”

“What are you doing here?” Her eyes were dark, and I couldn’t make out the color, but I could tell they were wide and alert.

“I live here,” I answered.

“Oh, you’re hired help. Okay, fine.” She put the window up and opened the door, pushing a button on the dashboard. “You can grab the suitcases in the back and bring them in.” She stepped out and didn’t make eye contact with me again.

“Wait a second,” I said as she opened the back door and climbed half inside. I peered through the window to see what she was getting from the back and saw her taking a sleeping child from a car seat.

Okay, maybe Gloria was expecting them and she forgot to tell me. I went around the back and lifted the lid. There were two small suitcases in the back. Obviously, this was a short visit. I picked them up as she came around the back of the car.

“You didn’t tell me what your name was,” I said as I closed the trunk.

“Grey, honey, whom is that you’re talking to?” The area where we were standing was barely lit.

“Grandma?” The woman’s voice cracked with emotion. She stepped around me to see Gloria.

“Barbie? Is that you?”

Barbie? She laughs at my name and hers is Barbie? I shook my head and followed her to the steps. Gloria had thrown her arms around Barbie, and what I assumed was her great grandchild while I sidestepped them and placed their bags inside the house.

A squeal of fright spun me around, and I saw Barb take a step back. The light from the porch lit her features, and I saw the bright green eyes for the first time. My heart skipped a beat.

Barbie tried to calm the young girl in her arms who had been startled awake by the welcoming hug. She clung to her mother’s neck. Barbie’s long hair was pushed back to the side and revealed a dark shadow under her ear. Was that a bruise?

“Barbie, honey, what are you doing here? Why didn’t you call?”

“Gigi, I’m sorry. I couldn’t. Can we go inside, and I’ll explain?”

“Of course.”

Barbie glanced over her shoulder and scanned the dark area behind her. I looked back to her neck, but her hair had fallen back into place.

I closed the door after the women had entered. Barbie had her back to me and, peeking through the glossy blond hair, was the sweetest cherub face I had ever seen. I smiled at her, and she buried her eyes into her mom’s neck.

“Now, what’s going on, and what happened to your face?” Gloria demanded as she held Barbie’s cheeks and turned her face back and forth. “Who the hell did this to you?”

“It’s nothing,” she said softly and tried to pull her face away.

“Over my dead body, it’s nothing! Who did this to you? You tell me right now, and I’ll have the son of a bitch locked up for good.”

“Gigi, no, you can’t,” she rushed forth, and the little girl began to cry. Barbie rubbed her daughter’s back, “Look, I need to feed Allie and get her in bed; it’s been a long day.”

“For both of you, obviously,” Gloria commented dryly.

“Yes, for both of us,” she admitted.

“Fine, Grey can take you back to the kitchen. Amelia should be in there and can help you get something for her to eat. I assume she is your daughter?” Gloria looked at her pointedly.

“Yes, Allie Marie. She is your great-granddaughter.”

Gloria shook her head, “Fine. I will have them make up a room for you two while you get her fed.” Gloria turned around, shook her head, and mumbled about always being the last to know anything in her family.

Barbie watched her walk up the steps and heaved a heavy sigh.

I spoke to Barbie, “Come on,” and she jumped at my voice. “I’ll take you back to the kitchen.”

She nodded and followed without saying anything.

“So how old is Allie?” I asked to try to get her to relax. She was like a scared kitten ready to dart off under a chair.

“She is almost sixteen months. Who did you say you were again?”

“My name is Grey. I live in the apartment out back. I’m doing some work for your grandmother.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she said quietly.

We found the kitchen empty. “Why don’t you have a seat, I can get something for her to eat.”

“That’s not necessary. I can do it.” She started to walk past me, and I stepped in front of her.

“Barbie, it is quite obvious that you are a total mess, and exhausted. Have a seat and let me get you both something to eat.”

She stared up at me. She must have been about five feet four as she had to lift her chin to see into my face. At this angle and with the bright lights of the kitchen, I could see for the first time what Gloria had seen.

Under her makeup, shadows crossed the right side of her face. Her nose looked a bit swollen, and her bottom lip appeared to be healing from a split. Anger simmered in my soul. Who the hell would possibly have laid a hand on a woman like this?

“Barb,” she said softly as she kept eye contact. My fingers itched to skim over her skin.

I looked at her questioningly.

“Barb, I go by Barb, not Barbie.”

“Have a seat, Barb, let me get you something to eat.” I turned away from her before I pulled her into my arms. My whole protective instinct was going haywire at her pained expression and hidden bruises.

“We had lasagna tonight, can Allie eat that? Or should I find something lighter for her?” I pulled open the fridge, watching her as she pulled out a chair and sat down with her daughter leaning back against her chest. The bright green eyes of the child watched me intently.

“Lasagna will be fine, just a small plate. We can share,” she answered.

I pulled the lasagna out and took a plate from the cupboard. I kept my attention on my task, all the while feeling her eyes on my every move. She didn’t say anything while I worked, and it wasn’t until I set the warmed food in front of her with a fork and napkin that she opened her mouth.

“That was very nice of you. I could have done that myself.” Allie reached for the food immediately and snatched a piece off the plate. Red tomato sauce oozed through her fingers, and she yelped.

“Oh, God, Allie, you burned yourself.” Barb grabbed her hand while Allie dropped the handful of food she’d taken off the plate. It landed on Barb’s sweater.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was that hot,” I said.

Allie cried for a moment, but stopped when she realized her mother was frozen in her seat.

“Barb, are you alright?” I asked softly, forcing myself not to reach out and touch her. She eyed the stain and peered up at me. “Don’t worry about that, it will come out in the wash.” I’d seen much worse. I stood up, “Here let me take Allie while you get that shirt changed.” I put my hands out to take Allie from her, and she jerked Allie away.

“Barb, I’m not going to hurt her. I’m just going to hold her while you get the food off your shirt.” I kept my hands open, and Allie looked between my palms for a moment before she reached for them. One hand was covered in cheese and sauce, but I didn’t care.

Barb stared with her mouth open as Allie left her arms and came right to me. “Let’s get your hands washed, little lady.” I stepped over to the sink and turned on the water. Barb still hadn’t moved from her seat.

“Are you going to clean up?” I asked as I glanced at her over my shoulder.

Allie was putting her food-covered hands on my face, touching the two days of growth on my cheek. I was going to need a shower after this.

“Hey, you, little button, let’s get those hands clean. Can you put them in the water?” I asked her, still aware that Barb had yet to move.

“Keen,” Allie stated as her attention was diverted to the running water and she all but dived toward the faucet. I held her over the sink while she opened and closed her chubby hands in the water. “Keen,” she giggled as she splashed the water.

“Yep, clean. Get those little piggies all clean. Then we can eat, but this time, we are going to use a spoon and not your hands.”

I grabbed a paper towel and wet it, using it to wipe away what sauce I believed I had on my cheek. I turned the water off, and Allie squealed, “More.”

“No, it’s time to eat. You can play with the water again later. Can you dry your hands?” I handed her a clean paper towel which she promptly squished into a ball and then tried to tear apart. I laughed.

God, I missed having a child around.

I glanced up and found Barb still sitting in the chair, but now, tears were rolling down her cheeks. “Barb, what’s wrong?”

I heard footsteps and knew that Gloria had joined us, but Barb didn’t seem to know that.

“She has never gone to a man before,” Barb finally spoke. “No man has ever held her, not even her father.”

M
y first conscious
thought when I heard the light rap on the window was: How had I let myself fall to pieces out here in the driveway?

My second thought as I looked out the window and up, and a bit higher up, was, Oh my God, he found me and sent someone to bring me back.

Only the face looking down at me wasn’t stern, angry, or even cocky. It appeared to be concerned—so much so that I almost opened the door and stepped out, but at the last second as I examined the man with the light brown hair watching me, I lowered the window instead.

The light from the porch barely lit his features, and most of them were still in shadow, but I could make out his strong jawline and wide mouth easily. His neck was thick and his shoulders wide.

Even though he didn’t look like he was a threat, I was still hesitant to give him any information until I knew more about him.

I had never been so happy to see someone as I was to see Gigi standing on the porch. She had aged quite a bit since the last time I had seen her. Was it only three years ago that she had come to my wedding?

I threw myself into her arms, totally forgetting that I had a sleepy Allie snuggled up against me. Her freaked-out squeal had me backpedaling and fighting to contain the tears again. I was so damned tired.

Gigi seemed more put out that I had not informed her that I was coming, and I thought it best to get Allie fed and into bed before I had to explain my situation to her.

I followed behind Grey as he padded barefoot deeper into the house. He definitely seemed at home here, and for a moment I was jealous. I hadn’t felt at home anywhere in years.

Under the bright kitchen lights, the blond highlights in his hair caught my attention as he prepared our food. His hair was longer than normally appealed to me, and I found myself wondering if it looked as soft as it was. His large hands held my attention as they dished up the food. Two thick scars crossed over the back of his left hand, my heart thudded against my chest as I wondered if he had gotten those from hitting someone. His arms were tan and muscular, and it made me wonder what kind of work he did for my grandmother.

His features were strong and well defined, yet he had a soft look about him. He tapped his fingers on the counter as he waited for the food to warm, his profile to me.

His nose was a little more pointed than I had first thought, but that matched his pointed chin. A lock of hair curled around his ear, protecting the sensitive skin there.The beep of the microwave reminded me of where we were and Allie glanced up at me. I kissed her head as Grey brought the food over to us.

I was so intent on watching him, not sure if I could trust him or not, that I didn’t notice Allie reaching towards the food until it was too late.

I felt the heat of the pasta and sauce through my sweater as it hit and automatically tensed as I waited for Grey to get angry.

I couldn’t have spoken if I had wanted to when he didn’t yell. When he reached for Allie, I was awestruck that she went to him without a second thought.

His soft and carefree smile entranced me as he held her over the sink and let her play in the water much longer than necessary. He wiped the sauce off his face and I was again surprised that he was not angered by what Allie had done—especially when she had coated his cheek in sauce.

I had never meant to voice my thoughts—never in a million years—yet they floated off my tongue as if they had a mind of their own.

Grey stared at me for a long hard moment, his glance once going to my neck and the bruises I was sure had outlived the makeup I had put on earlier.

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing she likes me. It will make you going to get cleaned up much easier.”

Allie slapped him on the face playfully to get his attention. “Eat,” she commanded when she had his attention. Instead of getting angry at her, he grinned.

“Are we going to try this again, little button?”

She nodded once, “Eat.”

Gloria finally stepped all the way into the room. “Okay, Amelia is putting together a room for you two. I assumed that you would want to be together, at least for tonight. Why don’t you go upstairs, first door on the left, and change that shirt.”

I was afraid to open my mouth, afraid that I would say something else completely emotional and totally wrong, so I nodded and walked out of the room.

“Eat,” Allie announced loudly again as I quickened my footsteps, wondering if once she realized I was not there and that she was with strangers she would panic.

I returned quietly and paused outside the door. “Did you see the bruises on her face, Grey? Dear God, I want to get my hands on the man who did those. If I find out it was her husband, I will have his balls on a platter.”

A soft masculine chuckle answered her, “Remind me never to piss you off.”

“More,” my sweet baby’s voice demanded. That alone brought me around the corner and stopping at the sight in front of me.

Allie was cradled against Grey’s chest, one hand holding a piece of bread to her mouth, the other brushing against his jawline. She was mesmerized by him, and he pinched her nose. Her giggle melted my heart, and I wanted to scream at the injustice. Why couldn’t her father have been like this? Why couldn’t he hold his daughter and feed her? My God! This man had known my daughter for a whole fifteen minutes and he already had a nickname for her.

I wanted to throw myself on the floor and cry till I had no tears left; instead I stepped into the room and watched Allie drag her hand once more over his cheek. What did it feel like? I wondered.

What did she think of him? She had never been around men. In fact, when men approached, she shied away. What was different with Grey?

“All better?” Gigi asked as I grew closer.

“Yes, thank you.” I sat down next to Grey. “Is that good, Allie?”

She nodded happily, but I could see how tired she was. It has been such a long day. “Come here, sweetie, Mommy can finish feeding you.”

“No,” she said imperatively, and took a bite of her bread.

Grey laughed, “Gloria put a fresh plate of food in the microwave. Why don’t you heat it up and eat? She’s fine here.”

“I’m really not hungry,” I said, afraid that if I tried to eat, my shaking hands would drop food on my clothes again.

Gigi directed a stern look my way and pushed up out of the chair. She went to get the food, and I noticed she moved more slowly than I remembered. She’s getting older, I reminded myself.

She set the food down in front of me, and I cut a piece. My stomach was tossing, but the smell of the food might have been the cause. I hadn’t eaten all day.

I took a bite and allowed the sweet sauce to coat my tongue as I watched Allie turn in Grey’s lap and get up on her knees so she was almost nose to nose with him. She put both of her hands on his face and stared at him. I held the food in my mouth, waiting.

“Yes?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She didn’t seem to want anything other than his attention, and she ran her fingers over both sides of his face.

“You like my whiskers, huh?” he asked her, and she pulled on a hair.

“Ow!” he jumped, and she tensed, her eyes wide.

I almost spit my food out and grabbed her from him, but then he spoke, “Silly girl, that hurts, you can’t pull on that. It’s attached.”

The surprise in her eyes faded, and she went back to patting his face.

“That’s better,” he smiled at her and turned his attention back to me. “What?”

I almost couldn’t speak. “Nothing.”

“No, that look was not nothing. Did you think I was going to do something to hurt her?”

I looked down at my plate, not able to confirm or deny, but my body language must have said it all.

“Barb, you don’t know me, I get that, but let me just tell you one thing.” I flicked a look at Gigi who was watching me with interest. “I will never, and I mean, never, do something to hurt a child.” He paused. “Or a woman,” he added softly.

I scooped another fork full of food into my mouth hoping that it would keep my tears at bay. My God, I am tired and a complete train wreck.

“I’m sorry,” I said after I had chewed and swallowed. “It’s been a long day.”

Gigi was the one who replied, “I’m sure it has, and I think you are way too tired to get into all the details, but tell me this, how long are you staying?”

I held her questioning look for a moment. “As long as I can, I have no place else to go.”

Her lips pursed, “You stay as long as you want, or need to. My home is your home, and you know that.”

I glanced at Allie. She had slid back down into his lap, her back resting against his wide chest—a very wide chest covered in a charcoal gray t-shirt that looked a size too small for him.

When I returned my scrutiny back to his face, I found him watching Allie as she studied his hands.

“Thanks, Gigi. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You came to the right place. You’re safe here. I’m going to assume that you are running from your husband, correct?”

Grey’s strong gaze seared me, and I fought not to meet his eyes. My cheeks began to heat, and I knew that my embarrassment was evident.

“Yes, Todd did this,” I stated quietly after a long moment.

“Was this the first time?” she asked.

I thought about how I should answer and realized that if I was going to be here, I needed to be honest with her. She needed to understand what might be coming my way, as did Grey if he was living here, too.

I shook my head. “No, that was the last time. The first time he physically hurt me, I had just told him I was pregnant with Allie.”

With those words, I turned back to Allie and found her with her cheek nestled up against Grey’s chest. Her little hand holding one of his fingers tightly against her belly and her eyes closed as she had drifted off to sleep.

How did this little girl who had never been held by a man, find such a feeling of safety in the arms of one she didn’t even know?

I met Grey’s bright gaze and realized that Allie had seen in him something neither of us had ever felt before: the feeling of being protected.