Baby in His Arms (12 page)

Morning kisses. He could get used to this. Even if she got his shirt dirty.

When he pulled back, stunned by the breathless, soaring feeling he’d never had anywhere but in the chopper, Haley’s eyes were dancing. “Now, give me that sack.”

“Lady, I’d give you anything at this point.” Handing over the rolls, he ventured back for one more kiss and then followed her inside the house.

With his heart bouncing like a ping-pong tournament and wearing a grin that wouldn’t quit, he asked, “Your mom still asleep?”

“Yes. Another late night in Moreburg.” One pretty eyebrow twitched.

He wouldn’t mind running a finger over that fine, arched line. Maybe kiss her eyelids and work his way down to her ear and her neck....
Whoa there, Carter. Slow down.

“How about the princess? Asleep, too?”

Haley rolled her head around her shoulders. “She was up at two and again at four and six with a stuffy nose. I put her back down about an hour ago, so I think she’ll sleep a while longer. I hope so. She’s cranky.” She made a wry face. “And I’m tired.”

Creed frowned. Rose had been fussy off and on for the last week. “Just a cold?”

“I think so. Spring seems to bring them on.”

“So for now you and I are alone?” He pumped his eyebrows. “Cozy.”

Haley tossed her strawhat onto a chair. “You sure are in a good mood this morning.”

“I am, aren’t I?” He bumped her out of the way to make the coffee while she reheated the rolls. “Life is good. I’m blessed. And we have Grandma’s cinnamon rolls.”

“And Mona and Rose Petal are asleep. We are blessed indeed!” The microwave beeped a long, annoying sound that Haley silenced as quickly as possible. “If I wake Mona she’ll be a pain all day. I will not feel so blessed then.”

She removed the cinnamon-scented buns from the oven. Creed’s belly quivered in anticipation.

“The two of you are so different,” he said. As in night and day. “Was she always like this?”

Haley didn’t appear to take offense. “If you mean always looking for the next thing, a new town, more excitement, a richer boyfriend, yes. Always. That’s Mona.” Reaching inside the cabinet, she took two saucers and topped each with a buttery, iced roll. “We moved constantly. I think the longest I attended any one school was a year and half before Mona met a new guy and followed him to some other place I can’t even remember. One year I didn’t go to school at all. No one even noticed.”

Creed couldn’t imagine growing up in such an environment. His family had been as stable and strong as the Ozarks. School was not even negotiable. “Must have been tough on you.”

“I coped. She’s my mother and I love her. In her way, she loves me, but I would have traded places with a normal kid.” She slid the plates onto the scarred table. “I know that sounds awful, but I would have. I wanted to be normal. Some women aren’t cut out to be mothers. Mona is one of them. She didn’t want to have a kid—her words—but she kept me. And she never let me forget the sacrifice I was.”

Creed squeezed the top of Haley’s paint-stained hand. He found the varying shades of brown and yellow endearing, an indicator of the artist she was.

Would he have had a childhood like hers if he hadn’t been adopted? Would his birth mother have let him know how much she regretted his existence? The idea pinched his chest, both for himself and for Haley.

She added napkins and a fork to the table. “Grab the coffee mugs and let’s chow down while these are hot.”

Haley was strong and resilient, but as he bit into his cinnamon roll Creed couldn’t help thinking of the little girl she’d been and the hurt and confusion she’d endured. Yet, she’d made a good life for herself. Even though unique and different, Haley was talented and caring and certainly not afraid of hard work.

They were both moaning in appreciation at the first sweet bite when Haley’s phone jarred the peace. She leaped up, eager to answer before the sleepers awakened, a frosty smear of sugar icing near her beauty mark.

“Oh, hello, Melissa. How are you?”

Melissa? Melissa? The name rang a bell. Creed chewed and swallowed, thinking.

“Rose is doing well, thank you.”

That
Melissa. The social worker. He put down his fork to listen.

Haley’s smile faded. She tilted her head toward him, a frown deepening with each passing second. She listened intently, lips pressed together until they appeared white around the edges.

What was going on? He started to rise, but she motioned him back down.

“I understand. Thank you for letting me know.” Haley ended the call and slowly, silently returned to her chair.

“The suspense is killing me. What’s going on? Did they locate Rose’s mother?”

She shook her head. “The court papers went through. Rose Petal is legally free to be adopted.”

Creed’s heart slammed against his ribs. “Finding the right family could take some time, right?”

“Probably not. She’s a very desirable baby, healthy and beautiful and young. Very soon Rose will have what she needs and deserves—a family.”

Chapter Twelve

H
aley’s head buzzed from the unexpected call. She always dreaded these days when the social worker phoned with the “good news.” Good news for the child, maybe, though not always. And good news for the social worker’s caseload. But not for Haley.

The fact that Creed was here, staring at her across a dripping buttery cinnamon roll as if she were an alien from Mars, didn’t help matters.

“She has a family, Haley,” he said. “You. Think about it. Rose is free to be adopted. Adopt her. Be her mother.”

“We’ve had this discussion. Twice to be exact.”

“Not really. I discussed and you cut me off.”

She pushed aside her plate. She couldn’t talk about this. Didn’t he understand? After that painful morning with Thomas, he should know. “This has been such a good morning. I don’t want to fight with you.”

“Because your mind is made up? Is that it? You’ll hand her over to a pair of strangers and never think of her again.”

She closed her eyes briefly to hide the hurt rising up. He was so clueless. She’d think of her soft, cooing Rose Petal every day of her life.

“Rose is still here,” she murmured. “Please, Creed, let’s enjoy her while we can.”

He shoved his own plate aside, leaving the barely touched roll. “You aren’t going to shut me out this time. We’re talking about this, Haley. Time is running out. We have to do something now or she’ll be gone forever.”

“Melissa does a great job pairing up children with adoptive families.”

“Rose has you! Why does she need anyone else?”

“She needs a mother and a father and a permanent home. She deserves better than I can give her.”

“She deserves roots.”

“I can’t promise her that.”

“Why? Because you had a lousy childhood?” His voice rose. “Is that the problem?”

Ice water chilled her soul. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“So clue me in. What’s the deal? You love Rose. Don’t lie and tell me otherwise. I think you’re scared to death of becoming like your mother. Is that the problem?”

Through gritted teeth, she enunciated, “I am
nothing
like my mother.”

“I know that!” He shoved his chair back and stood. The chair clattered against the wall before righting itself. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. There’s nothing stopping you from adopting Rose. Don’t you want her to have the best possible life?”

Mona appeared in the doorway, blurry eyed with hair sticking up every direction. “Would you two keep your voices down? People are trying to sleep around here.”

Neither Haley nor Creed gave Mona more than a quick glance. Haley was far more concerned about getting her point through Creed’s thick head than trying to pacify her overbearing mother.

“Every child deserves the best possible life,” Haley said. “But I’m not in charge of the choices her parents made. I can only be here for the fallout.”

Creed perched a fist on one hip. “Temporarily.”

“Yes!” she said, so incensed that her arm jerked and knocked over the salt shaker. “
Temporarily,
and if that doesn’t suit you, I’m sorry. That’s the way foster care is. That’s the way
I
am. Someone has to do this job. And I don’t appreciate your attitude.”

“Why? Because I touched a nerve? Because you know I’m right?”

“Because you’re arrogant and pushy and think you know everything. Go away. Leave me alone. Let me live
my
life my way.”

“All right!” He stood with fists clenched and expression tighter than Mona’s last facelift. “I’m going. You bet I am.”

“Fine. Go. And don’t come back.”

Stiffly, he started out of the kitchen. At the doorway, he stopped and turned. With quiet defeat, he said, “I thought we had something special, Haley.”

Me, too. Oh, me, too!
“I guess not.”

“You never gave us a chance, did you?”

I wanted to. “Some things simply aren’t meant to be.”

“I don’t believe that.” His nostrils flared. “With God all things are possible.”

Tears stirred inside her chest, hot and pushier than Mona. In a minute she’d be crying. But tears would do no good. “I can’t change who I am.”

With a sad shake of his head, he turned to leave. As he walked away, she heard, “I never asked you to.”

* * *

The spring countryside was alive with blooms and the moist freshness of soft rain and warm earth. As Creed flew flight after flight over the burgeoning mountains and valleys, tourists snapped photos and commented on the beauty. Today, nature’s bounty was lost on him.

He was reeling, aching, stunned that Haley had kicked him to the curb. Right when he thought they were progressing to something special, she sent him packing. Because of Rose.

More than anything he could think of, Creed wanted to talk to his dad, but the workday allowed little more than time for a salad at the Iron Horse.

“You look glum,” Uncle Digger said, his squirrellike mustache wiggling as his lips formed the words. “What’s troubling you, son?”

Son. Today the term took on new meaning. He was a son by choice as well as by birth. Rose was a daughter by birth. But who would choose her? Would they be the “perfect” family as the mother had requested? Creed had been lucky. No,
blessed
to be adopted by Mom and Dad. He prayed with all his might that Rose would be every bit as blessed.

“Rough morning,” he said as Uncle Digger slid a glass of water in front of him.

“Trouble at work?”

“No.”

“Heart trouble, then?” He patted his left chest. “Haley?”

Creed huffed softly. Uncle Digger would pry until he answered. “Yeah. She broke things off. We’re done.”

“That’s too bad, and right when the romance was gaining steam, I thought. Told Evelyn, yes, I did. There’s a match made in heaven. Haley and Creed. Yes, sir, like an engine and a dining car. The two of you are the missing piece to each other’s puzzle.”

“I’d started to think so, too, Uncle Digger.”

“You giving up?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t.”

“Her idea. Do you know she’s afraid to fly?”

“Is that why you split up? Over a little thing like that?”

“No.” He rotated the water glass, glum.

“But it’s a problem?”

“I’m a pilot. Flying is what I do. How can I be in love with a woman who hates my livelihood?”

“Did she say she hated to fly? Or only that it scared her?”

“Same thing, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

The reply gave Creed pause. He’d thought so, but now? He’d have to think about it. “My job isn’t the big thing. She doesn’t want to keep Rose.”

“The baby you found? Huh. Coulda fooled this old geezer, the way she caters to that little one, kissing on her and gets all glowy when anyone mentions how sweet and pretty the little thing is.”

“Haley’s a great mother.”

“She is for a fact.”

“But she doesn’t think so, Uncle Digger. Because of her own upbringing, I think.” He lifted his fingers from the countertop. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Son, you’re not talking out of turn. Anyone who ever met Mona Placer knows Haley didn’t have an easy upbringing. That woman needs a good dose of Jesus and maybe a couple of whacks upside the head.”

Creed chuckled. Leave it to Uncle Digger to add some practical application to his faith.

“Better get you some lunch.” Uncle Digger shuffled toward the refrigerator and returned with the premade salad. “So how
is
Haley’s baby?”

The choice of words made his heart sink. Rose would never be Haley’s. Haley had made that perfectly clear.

“The best.”

“I reckon that will make her easier to adopt.”

“Yeah.” Creed huffed a sigh. “She’s perfect, Uncle Digger. Anyone would love Rose. She only cries if she needs something or she’s sick. Last night, she smiled at me and kicked her little arms and legs. Even with a cold, she wanted to play.”

“Evelyn tells me you’ve taken lots of pictures. They’ll be good keepsakes.”

“I don’t know. It’s just so sad.” Creed fished for his phone and opened the photo gallery. “See how happy she is? What if that changes? What if she’s not happy without Haley?”

The old man swiped through the pictures, his mustache lifting and lowering from screen to screen.

“Want some advice, son? Give the Lord a little time to work. Exodus 14:14 says to stand still and let God fight for you. Now that’s some mighty good news right there. Mighty good. The Lord has a way of making things right if we don’t get in a big hurry.”

Creed smothered a smile. Uncle Digger must have taken the verse to heart long ago. He was rarely in a hurry. Except when a deer appeared on the railroad track in front of his Whisper Falls Express, the old train conductor moved in slow motion.

Yet, his advice was sound and worth thinking about. “I don’t know if I’ve read that before.”

“Well, look on that fancy phone of yours. The Bible’s in there. On one of them app things.”

“I’ll check it out. Thanks, Uncle Digger.” He appreciated the other man’s encouragement. He really did. But all the good advice in the world didn’t change a thing. He and Haley were toast. And Rose was about to be gone forever.

* * *

Rose Petal had cried off and on all morning as if she knew something was wrong. Haley wanted to cry with her. Everything was wrong. Everything.

“Can’t you get that baby to shut up?” Mona skulked around the house in a gauzy peignoir she’d probably seen on an old-time movie actress, puffing on an unlit cigarette. All she needed to complete the image was the long holder.

“She can’t help it, Mona. She has a cold.” Haley bounced Rose Petal up and down against her shoulder, a technique that usually worked if the baby had a gas bubble. Today, nothing made Rose Petal happy. If Creed was here, he’d walk her outside and show her the butterflies or blow on her belly in the rough manly way that never failed to bring a gurgle of happiness. But Creed wasn’t here. He wasn’t coming back. And Rose Petal was inconsolable.

“Well, do something with her,” Mona insisted. “She’s making me a nervous wreck. Call that social worker and send her back. She’s not your responsibility. You shouldn’t have to put up with her squalling.”

If Haley had needed a knife to the chest, that did it. Rose Petal’s cries tore at her heart, a heart that had bonded a little more than she’d planned. Creed had made things worse by planting ideas in her head. She loved Rose Petal. She ached at hearing her cry and not knowing how to help.

“Don’t cry, precious. Don’t cry.” The normally smiling, content baby was not to be comforted. The
waaa
escalated. Haley switched the bounce to a pat.

“First you wake me up fighting with Creed and now this?” Mona pressed the back of her hand to her forehead. “I’m not sure how much more of this place I can stand.”

Irritation prickled the back of Haley’s neck. She bit down on her cheek hard in an attempt to keep her mouth shut. Upset, tired, worried about Rose and finances, and hurting over the fight with Creed, she was at a breaking point. As if Mona would care.

But Mona
would
care if she let loose with the anger bubbling inside like a volcano.

Switching Rose to a lying position, she swung back and forth, praying for the usual calmed response. It didn’t come. “I’m sorry you overheard the quarrel with Creed.”

“What was that all about, anyway? He flew out of here faster than his helicopter.”

Haley switched the crying infant to her shoulder. Her head was starting to hurt. “He thinks I should adopt Rose.”

Mona stopped pacing around the living room to stare. “You have to be joking?”

“No.”

“Good grief, what a stupid idea. Leave it to a man to come up with something like that. Saddle the woman with a kid while he flies off to the moon. What an idiot.”

“Creed’s not an idiot. He loves Rose. He has a big, caring heart.”

You should see how he treats his parents and his grandmother. And as hopeless as I am, I think I love him.
But she didn’t say that to Mona.

“Yeah, right. He’s all heart as long as you’re the one doing the work and making the sacrifices. I know his type.” She pointed a fingernail. “And you’re the idiot if you fall for him.”

The headache went from a tapping to a drumbeat. “No need to worry about that. We...broke things off.”

The admission nearly choked her. But as far as she was concerned, breaking it off with Creed was the right thing to do. They were too different. They’d never get along.

“Good decision. Pilot types are so unpredictable and he wasn’t your type, anyway, not like that landlord. Why, I bet if you give Brent a call, you’ll have him eating out of your hand in no time. Trust me, honey, I know the signs and he was after you like a bee to honey.” She made a humming noise in her throat. To Haley the sound was like nails on a chalkboard. “You could have free rent here if you played your cards right, little girl.”

Haley’s head roared and buzzed, the headache throbbing. The fraying cord between mother and daughter stretched taut, a vibrating strand as fragile as a spider web. “Shut up, Mona. For once in your life, shut up and don’t say another word to me about Brent Henderson. Or Creed for that matter.”

Her mother’s vermilion mouth opened in shock. “You will not speak to me that way. I am your mother!”

The cord snapped. The volcano erupted. With Rose wailing in her ear, Haley whirled on the other woman.

“Really, Mona? You consider yourself a mother? And yet, I’ve never called you ‘Mom’ or ‘Mother’ in my life. I’ve never cried on your lap or told you my problems. And you never once helped me with homework.” Haley’s laugh was harsh. “You weren’t even home for the homework. Or for the bullying or the name-calling or to offer advice when I was about to ruin my life with a boy. You were out having
fun
with someone who would pay the rent.”

Mona trembled with rage, her complexion mottled. “How dare you insult me after all I’ve done for your sake!”

“You’ve done nothing but make my life as miserable as yours is. You whine and lie and avoid growing up.”

“You never went hungry.”