Baby in His Arms (6 page)

“And you don’t make any money.”

“Exactly.”

“Must be tough to find any time off.”

“It is. I don’t like to work Sundays but weekends are my best business.”

The evenings he’d come to her home had been during daylight hours. Had he missed out on customers to be there?

The notion softened her. His concern for Rose Petal was genuine. The baby looked content in his very brown, hard-muscled arms. Safe. Loved. Every little girl deserved a good daddy.

She jumped up from the plastic chair to move around the room. What was wrong with her today? Why was her stomach hot and raw with yearning?

Thomas had found a book on planes, one of those coffee-table books for customers to look through. Perched on a chair with his elbows on the pages, he was engrossed. She trailed her fingers over his pale hair and he looked up, grinning. “I told you Creed wouldn’t care.”

“I know.” She turned toward Creed. “You have big dreams.”

“I guess they sound stupid. Whisper Falls is too small for one charter service, much less another. But I figure God led me here to do what I love. He has a plan. Because all his plans are for my good, everything will work out.”

Haley suddenly wished she shared his absolute certainty. She honored God. She went to church sometimes and she wanted to go to heaven someday. But things didn’t always work out the way people wanted them to.

His cell phone rang. None of the fancy ringtones, just a jingle-jangle of an old-fashioned telephone. When he answered the call with a cheery “Carter’s Charters. Creed speaking,” Haley took the baby from his arms to wander around the office.

Scenic posters of the Ozarks in all four seasons lined one wall. One showed a foaming white Whisper Falls cascading down the craggy mountain side, a stunning piece of photography that contrasted the blueberry sky with the verdant greens surrounding the foam-white water. Her artist’s eye drank in the details as she wondered if she could capture the scene on a gourd vase.

“I like this one,” Thomas said. “See? It’s Creed.”

Haley glanced toward the opposite wall where planes and choppers were the subject. A poster-size photo of Creed and his yellow helicopter centered the space. The name of his business flowed across the top in black script.

Behind her, Creed ended his call. She felt him move in their direction. Her skin tingled. She wished she wasn’t so attracted to him. Like the proverbial moth to the flame, she’d get burned if she wasn’t careful.

“Want to go up?” he said, standing too close.

“Up where?” she asked, lulled by the rough velvet of his masculine voice.

“In the Yellow Jacket. My next tour isn’t until four. I can have her ready to fly in ten minutes or less.”

Haley jerked as if he’d slapped her. “No!”

At the same time, Thomas leaped from his chair, the book thudding loudly to the floor. “Yes! Please, Haley.
Please.
”

“No. Absolutely not.” Her pulse banged against her skin with such force that she thought her heart might explode. Go up? In that oversize bumblebee?

Creed looked at her as if she’d gone bonkers. But
he
was bonkers if he thought she was getting inside that death machine.

“Why not? It’ll be fun. I can show you the mountains as you’ll never see them. We can fly over the falls, over the town, your house, wherever you want to go.”

“No.” Her knees started to shake. The thought of flying made her dizzy. She couldn’t imagine how terrible the actuality would be. Even if they didn’t crash, she’d die. She was sure of it. “Thomas and I have to go now. I have...shopping to do.”

Thomas’s head snapped around. “You do?”

“Groceries.” With Rose Petal firmly in one arm, she reached for Thomas with the other hand. He stared at her, stricken. She’d shot his dream of flying in a real helicopter all to pieces. But she couldn’t help it. If she didn’t get out of here soon, she’d throw up.

Creed caught her elbow. “Hey, what’s the deal?”

“I don’t fly.”

“You don’t—” His eyes narrowed. “Never? You’ve never even been in an airplane?”

“No. And I never will be. I don’t do heights. I don’t do motion. I don’t fly. If God had wanted us to fly...”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard that and it’s a crock. God gave us the intellect to build machines that fly and the smarts to pilot.”

“I don’t care, Creed. I’m not getting in one.” She tugged at her arm but he didn’t release her.

“Seriously? You’re afraid to fly?”

“It’s not so much about fear—” Liar, liar, pants on fire. “I get dizzy in a swing or on a merry-go-round.”

“That’s motion sickness. I have some Dramamine. Fix you right up. You’ll love it.” He grinned. “The flight, not the Dramamine. You’ll feel like you’re floating. No worries, no cares, God in His Heaven and all is right with the world.”

She yanked against him, teeth gritted. He was starting to aggravate her. Did the man not comprehend plain English? “I said no, Creed, and I mean it. I do not fly. Ever. Don’t ask me again.”

Finally, he got the message.

He released her elbow and held up both hands in a surrender gesture. “Okay. Fine. But what about Thomas? He’s not afraid.”

“
I’m
not afraid,” she said hotly. “I get dizzy.” And my belly hurts, my mouth goes dry and I throw up just thinking about leaving mother earth.

“Okay. You get dizzy.” He clearly didn’t believe her. “So, let me take Thomas up for a short ride. You can stay safely here in the office with Rose.”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Thomas came alive with excitement. “Please, Haley. I’ll take a bath every night. And clean my room, too.”

She placed a hand on his shoulder. Her fingers shook. “I’m sorry, buddy, but the answer is no.”

Thomas might not understand but he was her responsibility. If flying wasn’t safe for her, how could she, in good conscience, allow her foster son to go up in a helicopter?

Thomas’s whole body slumped. He said no more, but the light had gone out of him. She felt like the meanest person in town. Thanks to Creed Carter.

“Go on out to the van. I’ll be there in a minute.” When the door closed behind Thomas’s sagging back, she spun toward Creed. “How dare you make me the villain?”

“I didn’t make you anything.” He crossed his arms and leaned his backside on the edge of the desk, cool as cucumber melon. “You’re the one acting ridiculous. Not me.”

“You invited him to go up in that...that chopper.” She was red-hot now, and ready to let him have it. Cocky, arrogant flyboy who thought he could do anything he wanted and women would let him. Well, not her. Not Haley Blanchard. She knew his kind. Just when she’d started thinking he was different, he proved her wrong. Didn’t it just figure?

“I go up every day. Flying is perfectly safe.” He dropped his tense stance and leaned toward her. The pulse dancing at his throat said he wasn’t quite as cool as he appeared. “Flying is safer than driving that van of yours down these curvy mountain roads. Thomas longs to fly. I can give him that, but your space cadet neurosis won’t allow him his fondest dream.”

Space cadet? He thought she was nutty? When he was the one who spent most of his time with his head in the clouds? Of all the arrogant—

“Thomas is my responsibility, not yours. I’d appreciate it if you remember that.” She poked her finger at him for emphasis. In her left arm, Rose murmured and squirmed.

The baby’s simple, normal movements brought them both to awareness. Creed dropped his defensive stance. He took a deep breath and nodded. “Got it. Loud and clear. Thanks for stopping by.”

She was being dismissed. Goodbye. Thanks again. So long. Story of her life.

With as much dignity as she could muster, Haley gathered Rose Petal to her chest and marched out of the office.

Chapter Six

F
or the next week, Creed fumed over the fight with Haley. The entire conversation had been silly and irrational, but she’d gone completely ballistic on him.

Well, what had he expected? He’d thought from the get-go that Haley Blanchard lived on a different planet.

Still, the disagreement bothered him. During his morning prayer, he’d been bombarded with thoughts of her as if God was trying to tell him something.

Yesterday, he’d driven by her house and almost stopped but changed his mind at the last minute. As much as he’d like to see Thomas and Rose, he didn’t want to fight with Haley again. And he sure wasn’t going to apologize.
He
wasn’t in the wrong. She was.

She had stabbed him right through the heart. Right in the place he was most vulnerable. He was a pilot. Flying was a beautiful thing, a spiritual experience, and she’d spat on it. On his livelihood and his passion, his gift from God.

Worst of all, when she’d flown in his face like a banty hen, he’d wanted to kiss her. Like something out of a sappy movie. Grab her shoulders and shut her up with his lips on hers. How stupid was that? But he couldn’t get the image out of his head.

Before closing up for the night, he polished the last speck of dirt from his beloved helicopter, confident she was in top shape to fly a sunrise tour tomorrow morning. By the time he headed toward his Jeep, the sun was a broken yolk spreading across a vivid blue horizon zigzagged by the gentle Ozark peaks. He sat in the Jeep for a minute, one arm looped over the steering wheel while he admired God’s handiwork and considered the rest of his day.

Hungry, but not overly tired, the thought of going home to his empty apartment didn’t appeal. He had friends, most of whom were married, and he wasn’t in the mood to be reminded of what he didn’t yet have. A visit to Grandma was out of the question. She went to bed with the chickens, exactly as she had for eighty years. He considered and rejected driving out to his parents’ house. He’d done that twice this week, and they’d already asked if something was wrong.

Nothing was, though he couldn’t explain the recent restlessness, the unsettled feeling. He’d never been without people to see and places to go. He just didn’t want any of them right now.

He started the vehicle and reached for the shifter. As he did, his gaze landed on the remote control helicopter in the passenger seat. Still in the box, he’d picked up the red-and-white “wasp” in Fayetteville last Saturday. As a boy he’d collected model planes and helicopters and this one had caught his attention right away.

He huffed out a self-deprecating laugh. Who was he trying to kid? He’d bought the model heli for Thomas. The toy wasn’t expensive or especially large; it was a beginner’s model to make up for the boy’s disappointment at being earth bound by flakey Haley.

What harm would there be in dropping the helicopter by her house? Truth was he didn’t like that she was mad at him. She might be flakey and neurotic, but she was also interesting. Infinitely interesting. Fascinating even.

And what of Baby Rose? Chief Farnsworth had reported no success in finding the mother, but was Rose still with Haley?

He could always call and ask.

He glanced at the model heli again. Calling wouldn’t resolve that problem.

With a sigh, he clicked the shifter into place and headed into town. Even if Haley kicked him out, he’d deliver the toy and check on Rose.

He was still arguing the pros and cons as he knocked on her front door. Since his last visit, she’d added another string of odd brown shapes he now identified as gourds. The dangling gourds strung from a white porch post to the wall of the house.

The door opened and there she was, looking more like a flower child than ever. Beneath an oversize shirt that hung to her knees, she wore lime-green leggings and no shoes. He wondered if she even owned a pair other than flip-flops. Her toenails were painted green and red with tiny black dots to look like watermelon slices.

“Hi,” he managed.

“Hi.”

Good so far. She hadn’t slammed the door in his face.

“I brought this for Thomas.” He held out the boxed model. “May I come in?”

She considered the question a lot longer than he liked. “I suppose.”

Not too encouraging but not an outright rejection. He hesitated in the doorway, needing to clear the air. Even if he was right, even if she was irrational, his conscience pushed him to make peace.

Swallow your pride and do it, Carter.

“Look, about the other day at the office, I was out of line. I shouldn’t have forced the issue.”

Haley studied him with her brown-sugar eyes. After a few, torturous seconds, the corners of her mouth lifted. “You’re right, you shouldn’t have, but I’m glad you came over. Come on in.”

Creed’s belly swooped. She was glad?

He followed her into the living room where he’d last seen her with Brent Henderson. The memory soured in his throat. “Actually, I was wondering if you’d eaten yet. I haven’t. I could drive us into town for a bite.”

“I’m a mess,” she said. “I’ve been working all day to get ready for an art show.”

Blue paint smeared one cheek and the lobe of one ear, probably where she’d pushed her hair back.

“You look good to me.” Endearing, artsy, fairylike. “It’s only Whisper Falls.”

“Well.” She lifted one shoulder. “Okay. I
am
hungry and not in the mood to cook. Let me wash up a bit and get Rose Petal. Be right back.”

She started out of the living room, giving him full view of auburn hair swinging against the big shirt and the sway of curvy body. Lithe, easy, swinging her arms as she walked. The man in him couldn’t help noticing. Flakey Haley looked good.

“Where’s Thomas?” he called after her, surprised that the boy hadn’t heard his voice and come barreling into the room.

“With the social worker.” She disappeared into what he assumed was a bedroom and then stuck her head back around a door facing. “Supervised visit with his mother.”

So dinner would just be Haley, him and Rose. Nice. He could deal with that. “I’ll leave the model on the end table.”

“He’ll love it.” She reappeared in the hall and strode toward him with Rose in her arms. “Will you hold her a minute while I fix a bottle to take along? She’ll be hungry in about an hour.”

“Sure.” He met Haley and the infant in the narrow space, noticing a colorful mural along one short wall and of course, baby Rose. She was pink and pretty in a soft white dress with pink dots and a matching headband and tights. She smelled clean and fresh and lotiony and looked so innocent that his chest squeezed. “She’s growing.”

“Like crabgrass.”

He smiled. “Not a very complimentary comparison.”

She grinned back. “You’re such a romantic.”

Their arms brushed as they made the exchange and the space grew smaller still as he looked down at her. “I can be.”

Her gaze fluttered up to his and held. His breath caught in his throat. Attraction roared to life, humming around them like honey bees.

She’d washed away the blue smear, leaving behind a pink scrub mark next to that tantalizing beauty mole. He was sorely tempted to touch her cheek.

She took a step back. “Give me a minute.”

Then she fled again, this time closing the door behind her.

He got the message. Ease off. She wasn’t interested.

Then why had she agreed to go out to dinner?

* * *

Haley sat across the table from Creed toying with the last few carrots on her plate. With limited eating options, they’d come to Marvin’s Café on Easy Street, Whisper Falls’ five-block main street. Business was slow on Tuesday and only a handful of other diners were in the place. She recognized most, and between her and Creed had greeted everyone. Such was the joy of small-town living, especially here in the Ozarks. It was also the pain because she’d noted more than one speculative glance.

The evening had been surprisingly pleasant. After that moment in the hallway when she’d suddenly wished she didn’t have a moratorium on men, she’d worried about being uncomfortable, about thinking rash and useless thoughts.

But Creed had put her at ease in the Jeep and she’d relaxed. He was easy to talk to and he made her laugh. Halfway through the meal, she admitted to herself that she liked the guy quite a bit. Maybe they had more in common than she’d thought. Just because she liked him didn’t mean she’d fall in love and get hurt. She was smarter than that.

“I have a confession to make,” she said, eyeing his Cobb salad. “I figured you for a meat-and-potatoes man.”

“You figured right. I can eat my weight in my mom’s meatloaf and mashed potatoes. Which is exactly the problem. Weight. Gotta watch the pounds.” He patted a very flat, taut abdomen.

“You?” Haley scoffed. “No way.”

“I was a pretty chunky kid.”

“But you’re lean and fit and...” She stopped, having almost said hotter than five-alarm chili. Which would have been completely inappropriate. Apt but inappropriate.

“Only because I work out every day. And eat plenty of this.” He hefted a bite of lettuce. “While we’re confessing, I have one. I expected you to order tofu or bean sprouts. Or maybe baked tree bark.”

“They have those here?” she asked, batting her eyes in pretend innocence.

He laughed. “Not a chance.”

“Bean sprouts are great. I grow my own. If I could I’d grow everything I eat. Organic, free-range. No chemicals or preservatives.”

“You sound like my grandma. Only she says homegrown instead of organic. Though she’ll admit to mourning the loss of DDT.” He glanced at Rose Petal, asleep in the carrier on a chair to Haley’s left. “She’s squirming. Is she hungry?”

Rose Petal’s deep blue eyes popped open, staring as if to say, “Hurry up before I start yelling.”

“Right on schedule.” Haley fished in the diaper bag for the waiting bottle. “Your grandma sounds like an interesting lady.”

“She is. Which reminds me of a question I wanted to ask.”

Haley lifted Rose from her carrier. Her tiny lungs grew stronger all the time so that now when she cried, the noise could rip the sound barrier. Before that happened, Haley cradled her close and slipped the bottle into the eager mouth. “About DDT or your grandma?”

The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Grandma, although you’d be her friend forever if you could rustle up some of the banned insecticide. She’s never bought into the idea that DDT poisoned things it shouldn’t have.”

“Such as the world’s water supply.”

“Scary thought.”

“Absolutely.” Rose Petal turned her head away from the bottle, a sign Haley had come to recognize as the need to be burped. She lifted the baby to her shoulder and patted. “What were you going to say about your grandma?”

Metal clinked against glass as Creed laid his fork across the top of his plate and sat back in his chair. The black shirt stretched smoothly across his honed chest and lay flat over his thin waistline. Haley couldn’t imagine him as a child with a weight problem. The revelation tenderized her feelings toward him, as if they weren’t already giving her fits.

“Grandma moved into the senior apartments last year,” he said.

“I’ve driven past that complex. The apartments are nice.”

“They are, and she seems happy there, but she misses the flowers she used to grow, especially the roses.” His face softened with affection. “Grandma loved her roses. She had this one bush with huge orange flowers you could smell from the front porch. I couldn’t resist picking them.”

No one in her family had ever lived in one place long enough to grow a rose bush. “Did you get in trouble?”

“Nah, not from Grandma. She said God created them for people to enjoy.” He grinned. “Besides, I’d give them to her and tell her she was the best grandma in the universe.”

The man was a charmer, no doubt about it. Even his grandmother had fallen prey. But Haley liked the image of Creed as a little boy presenting roses to his granny.

“There’s room for flower beds in front of those apartments.” She patted Rose’s tiny back, listening for the telltale burp.

“The manager agrees...if Grandma does the work herself. That’s the trouble. She has a bad knee. She can do a little and I’ll help, but I don’t know that much about flowers.”

He left the subject hanging, never quite asking her to do anything. So, of course, she offered. “Do you think she’d object if I wanted to help her?”

“Would you mind?”

“I’d love it.”

“If you’re sure. That would be great.” His teeth gleamed white against his swarthy tan. And boy, if her grilled chicken didn’t sprout wings and flutter in her stomach. “I told Grandma the two of you had a lot in common.”

He’d told his grandmother about her?

“Creed,” a male voice said, “I thought that was you.”

Glad for the interruption to some very wayward thoughts about her dinner companion, Haley looked up to see Davis Turner approaching their table. He nodded. “How are you, Haley? Looks like you have your arms full.”

“She’s a princess,” Creed said, and when Haley looked up, he winked.

Was he talking about her or the baby?

The flutters turned to all-out helicopter rotors.

“She’s a wonderful baby,” Haley said, but a hot flush slid over her skin. Creed Carter with his winks and jokes, his sweet stories about grandmas and roses and his kindness to Thomas. And to her. Creed was more dangerous than any flyboy she’d ever known.

But he was still a flyboy. Up, up and away.

She closed her eyes and shuddered.

Rose’s body grew warm against hers. Enjoy the moment because it wouldn’t last. Rose was only one in a long line of those passing through. So was Creed.

The waitress sailed by and topped off her water glass. Haley smiled her thanks.

By now, Creed and Davis were into a conversation she’d completely missed.

“When are you going to take that tour?” Creed was asking.

“The kids have spring break coming up soon. I thought we might do it then.”

“Sure thing.” Creed whipped out his smartphone and opened a document. “The eighteenth is clear. How about then?”

“Sounds good to me.” Davis scribbled on the back of a business card before dropping it into his shirt pocket. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”