Heidi McCahan - Their Baby Blessing

She ducked her chin. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“My schedule is flexible until I start the practical portion of my training, and I’d be glad to stay with Connor whenever you need me to.”

She picked at her thumbnail and avoided his gaze. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

The sound of Connor crying came through the baby monitor resting on the kitchen counter nearby.

Lousy timing, kiddo. Gage studied her, hoping she wouldn’t use that as an opportune time to escape the conversation.

“I’d better get him.” Skye’s phone chimed again, and she picked it up, glanced at the screen, then pushed to her feet and hurried down the hallway.

“Skye—”

She didn’t turn back, and a minute later, he listened through the monitor as she spoke to Connor and his crying ceased.

Gage tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling. No, he didn’t have any experience with babies. Or children at all, really. His brief stints in and out of temporary foster care placement had left a scar, though, and he couldn’t fathom letting Connor grow up without consistent, stable male role models.

He smoothed his hand over his close-cropped hair and silently prayed for the words to change Skye’s mind. Ryan was the closest thing to a brother he’d ever had and being a part of Connor’s world was the only way Gage could express his gratitude for the bond they’d shared.

* * *

No, no, no. Skye’s fingers trembled as she knelt on the floor beside Connor, trying to keep him from wiggling out of reach while she changed his diaper.

While Gage’s story about his connection with Ryan seemed legitimate, and the photo he shared lined up with what little McKenna had shared about Connor’s father, was Gage really the solution to her babysitting needs? What if she accepted his offer and he decided it wasn’t for him? He said he was committed to being involved in Connor’s life, but did he even know what that meant? She’d never forgive herself if Connor was hurt because she’d made a hasty decision. The wounds were still raw from the last time she’d allowed herself to be vulnerable. Suffering the consequences of her poor decisions was one thing, but what if her choices impacted an innocent child, too?

The thought made her stomach churn.

Out in the living room, she heard the front door open and Mom exchanging greetings with Gage. Connor’s eyes followed her as she tossed the diaper in the trash. She pushed to her feet, eager to get back to the other room before Gage had a chance to woo her mother. Connor sucked loudly on his thumb while she lifted him off the floor. “Let’s get a snack, sweet pea.”

She strode down the hallway with Connor in her arms. Mom and Gage sat at the table, talking quietly. What had she missed? Fatigue lined Mom’s face, and Skye cringed inwardly. Although she was probably trying to be a good sport and chat with Gage, Mom normally went straight to the couch and elevated her leg after physical therapy.

“Hi, Mom. How was your appointment?”

Mom gave her a tired smile and reached over to give Connor’s leg a gentle squeeze. “It was all right. My therapist pushed me hard.”

“Would you mind holding him while I fix his snack?” Skye hovered near Mom’s shoulder. She hated to ask her to do anything extra, but maybe Connor wouldn’t cry if he snuggled with Mom.

“For a minute.” She stifled a yawn. “I’m fading fast. Might need a nap before dinner.”

Connor stretched out his arms and leaned toward Gage.

“Do you want to hold him?” Skye couldn’t keep the surprise from her voice.

Gage scooted his chair back. “I’ll try.”

Connor babbled an unintelligible sound and kicked one leg against Skye’s hip, while leaning farther out of her grasp. He wasn’t old enough to use words yet, but she understood his body language. She gently passed him to Gage, acutely aware of the warmth of Gage’s fingers brushing against hers.

Skye avoided eye contact and moved past him to the kitchen, wishing there was a wall or a cabinet or anything to block her view of Gage, with his powder blue long-sleeve shirt hugging the defined curves of his muscular arms, cautiously holding Connor like he was the most fragile thing in the world. A telltale flutter in her midsection made her deliberately turn away and take her sweet time rummaging in the pantry for a container of the puffed-rice snacks Connor loved.

That was the last thing she needed—succumbing to the image of this strong, competent man riding in like some fairy-tale hero to rescue the damsel in distress.

She wasn’t in distress. Okay, maybe she had a little bit going on in her life, but she didn’t need him to rescue her.

“Gage was just telling me he might be the solution to your child care dilemma,” Mom said, her tone hinting that she was completely on board with the idea.

The round metal container slipped from Skye’s hands and rolled across the hardwood. Blood pounded in her ears as she chased after it. Gage was watching her—she could feel the weight of those gorgeous hazel eyes tracking her. Did he sense her apprehension?

She straightened, just in time to catch Connor looking up at Gage, his little hand exploring his face, and his pudgy cheeks scrunched in an adoring smile.

Oh brother. Don’t tell me you’re captivated, too.

“We didn’t get a chance to discuss it.”

Mom shot her a look. “What’s to discuss? You need someone consistent and reliable, with flexibility in their schedule. And I’ll be here to advise Gage on what to do.”

But what about long-term? What kind of impact would Gage’s role in Connor’s life have? She bit her lip and stole another glance at Connor. He babbled and cooed, his fingers meandering around Gage’s angular jaw. When Gage mimicked a playful bite toward Connor’s hand, the little boy’s belly laugh made Skye’s breath catch.

Mom caught her staring and arched a brow as if to say, See?

Skye averted her gaze and poured the rice puffs into a small plastic bowl, then carried it to the table.

“I know you wanted Connor to spend time with other children, but given his history with biting, and as long as he’s still taking two naps, maybe keeping him here is the best thing for now. Gage can come by for a few hours. Between the two of us, we—”

“All right.” Exasperated, Skye cut her off. “Point taken.”

Connor stopped jabbering and stared at her, his lower lip pooched out. Gage and Mom both glanced at her, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry.” She softened her tone as she set the bowl on the table in front of Gage and Connor. “That sounded harsh.”

An awkward silence blanketed them, and she returned to the kitchen to put some water in a sippy cup for Connor, her face flaming. Again. She only wanted to do what was best for Connor, but now she felt like the irrational one. How did that happen?

“I think what Skye is trying to convey is that we weren’t really prepared for any of this,” Mom said. “McKenna has always been wild and impulsive, but she didn’t give us any indication that she planned to leave him. Once she settled in here, she seemed content. But now that she’s gone, we want to make sure we do the right thing. Between caring for Connor, the store and my surgery... This is a lot for us to handle.”

Skye felt the tension in her shoulders loosen. There. Ditto , she wanted to say, but that sounded ridiculously inadequate. Not to mention childish. Gage probably thought she was a mess.

“I totally get it.” Gage’s deep voice was filled with empathy. Compassion. “It’s a radical idea, me coming here, claiming a connection to this child and offering to help. I don’t blame you for being skeptical. I’m glad you’re questioning my intentions.”