Heidi McCahan - Their Baby Blessing

Oh, McKenna. What have you done?

With Connor’s first birthday coming up in a few days, surely her cousin would come home in time to celebrate?

Tears stung her eyes, but Skye refused to fall apart right now. She didn’t have time for a meltdown, and she wouldn’t give Mrs. Sanders the satisfaction of seeing her cry. After hastily scrawling a note indicating the store’s unexpected closure due to a family emergency, she taped it to the glass door on her way out. This was one more reason why sales had to improve—she needed the income to hire additional help.

Another storm had blown in, and fresh snow blanketed the sidewalk in front of the store. She made a mental note to ask Drew to stop by and shovel it after work. Again. Ducking her chin against the flakes swirling around her, Skye trudged to her car parked behind the store, the reality of her circumstances weighting her steps.

A mother who could barely walk, an abandoned baby without a babysitter and her family’s floundering furniture business, not to mention zero resolutions within her grasp.

What about Gage?

She pushed out a laugh at the ridiculous notion. They barely knew anything about him, and he hadn’t even spent a single minute alone with Connor. How could he possibly be the answer to her problems?

* * *

Gage eased his truck into the Tomlinsons’ driveway and turned off the ignition, wishing he could do the same for the anxiety wreaking havoc on his insides. Man, he hadn’t felt this nervous since his first week at sea on the submarine. Sure, he and Connor got along great last night, but they hadn’t been alone. He’d only played with a couple of toys and shared some food at dinner. Skye did most of the work, and she’d intervened when Connor threw a fit.

What if he totally messed this up?

An ache formed in his chest. Yesterday marked one year since Ryan died. He glanced at the picture wedged on his dashboard, the one of him and Ryan on the beach in San Diego that he’d shared with Skye at the coffee shop. After their meeting, he’d tucked the dog-eared photo inside one of the few books he owned, but this morning he’d mustered the courage to retrieve the picture and tuck it into the corner of his dash—a frequent reminder spurring him on to keep his promise.

Pocketing his keys, he climbed out of the truck and slammed the door. Although the snow had stopped falling, several inches coated the driveway, a sedan parked in front of the garage and the steps leading up to the Tomlinsons’ modest rambler. Should he offer to shovel while he was here? Or maybe Skye wanted to take care of that herself, too.

He climbed the steps and the door swung open before he could knock or ring the bell.

“Hey,” Skye greeted him, looking as though she’d stepped out of a corporate boardroom in a long gray dress belted at the waist and stylish black boots. His gaze flitted from her hair piled in a messy bun on top of her head, to her red-rimmed eyes and blotchy cheeks. Had she been crying? His chest tightened. Did something happen to Connor?

“Are you all right?”

“Come on in.” She stepped back, ignoring his question. “I didn’t want you to ring the bell. Connor’s still taking a nap.”

Gage stood in the foyer and quickly surveyed his surroundings. The house was quiet, and he didn’t want to do anything that might upset her more. He was also afraid to ask why she wasn’t at the furniture store. Maybe she’d decided she didn’t trust him being there without her supervision after all.

“My mom will be home from her physical therapy appointment soon.” Skye crossed to the table in the breakfast nook, where a can of soda and a bag of chips sat between a laptop and a large calendar. Did she have another job she hadn’t mentioned? He shifted from one foot to the other, and kept his coat and his boots on, worried that one wrong move might earn him an icy stare.

She slumped into the chair with a sigh, then shot him a look, her smooth brow furrowed. “Why are you just standing there?”

“I’m waiting for my orders.”

“What?”

“My orders. You look stressed. Or busy. Maybe both. If you need to get some work done, I’d be glad to shovel the driveway or something until Connor wakes up.”

“You don’t work for me.” She massaged her forehead with her fingertips. “I’m not going to ask you to shovel my driveway. Or boss you around.”

Okay. He ducked his head to hide the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. This was probably not the best time to mention that she’d been bossy since the first second they’d met. He took his time unlacing his boots and hanging his jacket on the rack near the door. How long did a baby sleep anyway? Hopefully not much longer. Gage needed Connor to wake up and save him from Skye and her fragile mood.

He padded in his socks toward the table and slowly eased into the chair across from her. He wasn’t good with females and tears. No matter how hard he tried, he always seemed to say the wrong thing. Did she want to talk about it? She sure didn’t seem like she wanted his help. While he racked his brain for something safe to say, her phone chimed, and she pounced on it. She swiped at the screen, her eyes quickly scanning, and then she flung the phone back on the table in disgust.

Oh boy. Gage wiped his sweaty palms on the legs of his jeans and braced for a fresh wave of tears.

“Perfect. Just perfect.” She glared daggers at the phone and shook her head. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Connor got kicked out of the church day care today.”

Well. That explained a few things. “Why?”

“Bit another child. Third offense. They made me pick him up early.” Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I don’t know what I’m going to do,” she whispered.

Please, please don’t cry. Gage’s knee bounced up and down under the table, and he scrambled for a pragmatic solution to get in front of her impending meltdown. “Can you appeal the decision?”

“Tried that. The senior pastor just texted me and said the director of the program has the final say.” Skye reached for her phone again. “I really need to find someone who can watch Connor on a consistent basis. Most of the time he still takes two naps, so it’s just a few hours each day—and only until Mom gets some of her mobility back. I’ve called everyone I can think of, though.”

You haven’t asked me. Gage clamped his mouth shut. What would she say if he offered?

She frowned, shaking her head as she scrolled some more. “Mom wants me to hire someone to manage the store so I can stay with Connor, but we just don’t have any wiggle room in the budget...” She heaved another sigh. “And I don’t have the heart to tell her about our financial situation right now, on top of everything else she’s dealing with.”

Her troubled gaze toggled to him. “Sorry to dump all this on you. Probably way more than you wanted to know.”

Not true. He did want to know because he honestly wanted to help, and although the sheen of moisture in her beautiful blue eyes had subsided, he was going to tread lightly. She seemed guarded—suspicious, even—of his intentions. He really didn’t want to blow his chance at being in Connor’s life, or risk ignoring his pledge to Ryan. And what if word got out of Connor’s situation and someone called social services?

Adrenaline slammed into him at the mental images that scenario conjured.

She narrowed her eyes. “What are you thinking?”

He shifted in his chair. Here goes nothing. “I—I know you’re in a bind, and I totally get that you might have issues with accepting help from strangers—”

“I do not.”

Really? Gage silently cocked an eyebrow.