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“No use speculating.” Gabe joined her, took one of her hands and kneaded her fingers. That simple contact was like a lifeline flowing between them. Could he feel it, too? “The doctor says she could have years.”
“Or months. Her kidneys aren’t in good shape. Darlene seems to think she’s fading. You can hear the worry in her voice, see it in her eyes. She’s scared for her child.”
“There’s a real chance Macy’s going to need a family, Brooke, to be there for her if the worst happens.”
Macy could very well become an orphan. “Darlene seems intent on us looking after Macy as if we’re relatives of some sort. She should be searching for an adoptive family, not two unrelated strangers.” She sighed. “Darlene knows other people in Clayton better than she knows you or me. Why us? Why does she seem determined for us to take of care her daughter?”
“There’s no accounting for matters of the heart, Brooke, and the care of her child is certainly a matter of the heart.”
“True.” Still, the whole issue seemed strangely unsettling.
“You could take her,” he said, attention riveted on the palm of her hand. He traced a line with one finger.
Brooke’s heart bumped. She pulled her hand away. “Me? You mean the way Arabella took in Jasmine?”
“No, not exactly.” He took his time as if searching for exactly the right words. “I mean adopt her and give her a family.”
“But she needs a mother and a father.”
“That’s what I was thinking.” On the concrete picnic bench, he shifted closer, tilted her chin, probed her gaze with his. “A.J. needs a mother and a father, too.”
Brooke’s pulse kicked into overdrive. What was going on here? “He has a great dad.”
“He needs a mom. A warm, funny, energetic mother who loves him the way he loves her.”
Convinced her heart was about to fly from her chest, Brooke was afraid to say anything. Did he mean what she thought he meant? And if he did, if he was asking her to be A.J.’s mother, what about love? What about the two of them? She wanted to be more to Gabe Wesson than a mother to his son. She wanted to be his forever.
She opened her mouth to tell him exactly that when his cell phone chirped.
Gabe groaned in exasperation. “Some days I want to throw this thing in the river.” With a sigh, he answered. “Wesson. This better be good.”
Brooke’s giggle froze in her throat when Gabe slapped the telephone closed. “Gotta go. Sorry about the picnic.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Not sure. Trouble in the mine shaft. If you’ll give me your car keys, I’ll have someone bring your car around.”
“We can bum a ride or walk. Home is not that far.”
He stuck out his palm. “Give me the keys.”
She dug in her jeans and handed over the cross key ring. “Thoughtful of you. Thanks.”
He gave her a funny look. “A man takes care of his own.”
Brooke opened her mouth, closed it again. Now was not the time, but the time was coming. She shoved a sandwich in his hand. “Call me? Let me know what’s going on?”
He paused, smiled down at the sandwich, then leaned in and kissed her. “Absolutely.”
Then he was gone and she was left to ponder that one tantalizing phrase.
A man takes care of his own.
The picnic wasn’t nearly as much fun after Gabe’s departure, but Brooke saw to it that her charges ate a hearty lunch and had a good time. After her car arrived and the kids had played out, she took them to the post office and the grocery store to stock up on the boxed juices and fruits Macy and A.J. favored. And if she tossed in a package of Oreos, she blamed Gabe for her fall from health-food glory. The man could eat his weight in cookies and never gain an ounce.
Inside the small, family-owned grocery, Brooke paused over and over again to visit with people she’d known since childhood. One woman exclaimed about how much she looked like her father, a declaration Brooke found discomfiting. George Clayton Jr. was an image in her mind, a distant figure she’d yearned for, but he’d never been a father like Gabe.
At the checkout counter, Macy helped unload the cart while Brooke chatted with the cashier. The friendly woman had given both kids a smiley sticker and allowed Macy to come behind the counter to help bag the items. The simple, friendly kindness made Macy feel important and reminded Brooke of the good things a small town offered that she’d never encountered in a city.
