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“For now.” Tired and bewildered himself, Gabe let his frustration come through in the two words.
“I was about to make some cocoa.” She plucked at his sleeve. “Come in and tell me what happened.”
The warmth spread from that cold spot into his chest and through his tired limbs. “The little guy do okay?”
She’d started to walk away but now she paused, expression uncertain. “He had a nightmare. I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry, Gabe.”
“For what?” He hitched one shoulder. “Kids have bad dreams. Is he asleep now?”
“Yes. I rocked him.”
“That’s what I do.”
“It is?” she asked.
He nodded once. “I’ll look in on him.”
“He’s okay… I promise. I didn’t leave him for a minute until just now when I heard you drive up.” Her blue eyes were wide and worried.
A frisson of alarm tingled his nerve endings. “Did something else happen?”
“He cried. He called for you. I was afraid—”
“Hey.” He touched her. She was smaller than he’d noticed before, coming only to his shoulders. “You wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t trusted you to watch him.”
He turned down the hall toward A.J.’s room, found his son sleeping in the moonlight, covers kicked to the end in a wad. Brooke had drawn a chair up beside the bed and he could envision her sitting there the entire time he’d been gone. He hadn’t worried about A.J. once during the time he’d been at the mine, a rare occurrence for a man who hadn’t trusted his son’s own mother. Gabe pulled the jungle-print quilt up to A.J.’s neck and turned back toward the kitchen.
He found Brooke waiting for him again in the hall, hands clasped as though she’d been wringing them in worry. “Is everything all right? Was he okay?”
“He’s fine, Brooke. Stop worrying. He’s sleeping like a baby.” He smiled at the description, hoping to pry a return smile from her. He wouldn’t mind seeing that dimple again just now.
Brooke gave a brief nod and pivoted toward the kitchen. He followed, puzzled by her anxiety while also mindful of the pleasant differences in the way a female and male walked. Her tangled mess of hair swayed against her back. The oversize college sweatshirt hung to mid-thigh over a pair of black leggings.
Eyes forward, Wesson.
“Packs of instant in the upper cabinet,” he said, more to break his train of thought than to give orders.
“I know.” She tossed a smile over her shoulder and took down the red and white box. “I hope you don’t mind. I looked. The crime spree continues.”
He chuckled, feeling less tired by the minute. “Yesterday the silver. Today the cocoa.”
“Marshmallows?” She hoisted the opened package.
“Might as well live dangerously.”
The dimple flared. “Sugar rush at one in the morning. We won’t sleep at all.”
“I probably won’t sleep much anyway. But I apologize for keeping you out so late.”
She scoffed. “I just graduated college. Late is my normal.”
“Oh, right.” Thanks for the reminder. Some of his energy dissipated. He slid wearily onto the high-backed chair and rested his elbows on the table. “I don’t know how to thank you for being here tonight. Name your price.”
Busy poking numbers on the microwave, her back to him, she stiffened. “Don’t insult me. I came over as a friendly neighbor. This is what small-town people do for each other.” The microwave whirred into action. She turned to face him, hands white-knuckled on the counter at her back. “But I do need a job.”
He perked up. “Meaning?”
“I’ve decided to be A.J.’s nanny. That is, if you still want me.”
Gabe was sure his mouth dropped. She’d been adamant. “What changed your mind?”
“A.J. You.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t…”
“Oh, no, you don’t. No backing out now. You’re hired.” He’d talked to a dozen people about Brooke Clayton, including the pastor. They’d all agreed she was honorable, trustworthy and a solid human being he could trust with his child. He’d already figured that out on his own. “Can you start tomorrow?”
