Debbie Macomber - Rainy Day Kisses

“He sounds cute.”

“Listen, if you’re phoning about Michelle,” Susannah hurried to add, anxious to end the conversation, “there’s no need for concern. Everything’s under control.” That was a slight exaggeration, but what Emily didn’t know couldn’t worry her.

“Is that Michelle I hear crying in the background?” Emily asked.

“Yes. She just woke up and she’s a little hungry.” Nate was holding the baby and pacing the kitchen, waiting impatiently for Susannah to get off the phone.

“My poor baby,” Emily moaned. “Tell me when you met your neighbor. I don’t remember you ever mentioning anyone named Nate.”

“He’s been helping me out,” Susannah said quickly. Wanting to change the subject, she asked, “How are you and Robert?”

Her sister sighed audibly. “Robert was so right. We needed this weekend alone. I feel a thousand times better and so does he. Every married couple should get away for a few days like this—but then everyone doesn’t have a sister as generous as you to fill in on such short notice.”

“Good, good,” Susannah said, hardly aware of what she was supposed to think was so fantastic. “Uh-oh,” she said, growing desperate. “The bottle’s warm. I hate to cut you off, but I’ve got to take care of Michelle. I’m sure you understand.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon then. What time’s your flight landing?”

“One-fifteen. We’ll drive straight to your place and pick up Michelle.”

“Okay, I’ll expect you sometime around two.” Another day with Michelle. She could manage for another twenty-four hours, couldn’t she? What could possibly go wrong in that small amount of time?

Losing patience, Nate took the bottle and Michelle and returned to the living room. Susannah watched through the doorway as he turned on her television and plopped himself down as if he’d been doing it for years. His concentration moved from the TV long enough to place the rubber nipple in Michelle’s eager mouth.

Her niece began greedily sucking, too hungry to care who was feeding her. Good heavens, Susannah thought, Michelle had spent the night in his arms. A little thing like letting this man feed her paled in comparison.

Emily was still chatting, telling her sister how romantic her first night in San Francisco had been. But Susannah barely heard. Her gaze settled on Nate, who looked rumpled, crumpled and utterly content, sitting in her living room, holding an infant in his arms.

That sight affected Susannah as few ever had, and she was powerless to explain its impact on her senses. She’d dated a reasonable number of men—debonair, rich, sophisticated ones. But the feeling she had now, this attraction, had taken her completely by surprise. Over the years, Susannah had always been careful to guard her heart. It hadn’t been difficult, since she’d never met anyone who truly appealed to her. Yet this disheveled, disgruntled male, who sat in her living room feeding her infant niece with enviable expertise, attracted her more profoundly than anyone she’d ever met. It wasn’t the least bit logical. Nothing could ever develop between them—they were as different as…as gelatin and concrete. The last thing she wanted was to become involved in a serious relationship. With some effort, she forced her eyes away from the homey scene.

When at last she was able to hang up the phone, Susannah moved into the living room, feeling weary. She brushed the tangled curls from her face, wondering if she should take Michelle from Nate so he could return to his own apartment. No doubt her niece would resist and humiliate her once more.

“Your sister isn’t flying with Puget Air, is she?” he asked, frowning. His gaze remained on the television screen.

“Yes, why?”

Nate’s mouth thinned. “You…we’re in trouble here. Big trouble. According to the news, maintenance workers for Puget Air are going on strike. By six tonight, every plane they own will be grounded.”

“If this is a joke,” Susannah told him angrily, “it’s in poor taste.”

“Would I kid about this?” Nate asked mildly.

Susannah slumped down on the edge of the sofa and gave a ragged sigh. This couldn’t be happening, it just couldn’t. “I’d better call Emily.” She assumed her sister was blissfully unaware of the strike.

Susannah was back a few minutes later.

“Well?” Nate demanded. “What did she say?”

“Oh, she knew all along,” Susannah replied disparagingly, “but she didn’t want to say anything because she was afraid I’d worry.”

“How exactly does she intend to get home?”

“Apparently they booked seats on another airline on the off chance something like this might happen.”

“That was smart.”

“My brother-in-law’s like that. I’m not to give the matter another thought,” she said, quoting Emily. “My sister will be back Sunday afternoon as promised.” If the Fates so decreed—and Susannah said a fervent prayer that they would.

But the Fates had other plans.

* * *

Sunday morning, there were bags under Susannah’s eyes. She was mentally and physically exhausted, and convinced anew that motherhood was definitely not for her. Two nights into the ordeal, Susannah had noticed that the emotional stirring for a husband and children came to her only when Michelle was sleeping or eating. And with good reason.

Nate arrived around nine bearing gifts. He brought freshly baked cinnamon rolls still warm from the oven. He stood in her doorway, tall and lean, with a smile bright enough to dazzle the most dedicated career woman. Once more, Susannah was shocked by her overwhelming reaction to him. Her heart leaped to her throat, and she immediately wished she’d taken time to dress in something better than her faded housecoat.

“You look terrible.”

“Thanks,” she said, bouncing Michelle on her hip.

“I take it you had a bad night.”

“Michelle was fussing. She didn’t seem the least bit interested in sleeping.” She wiped a hand over her face.

“I wish you’d called me,” Nate said, taking her by the elbow and leading her into the kitchen. He actually looked guilty because he’d had a peaceful night’s rest. Ridiculous, Susannah thought.

“Call you? Whatever for?” she asked. “So you could have paced with her, too?” As it was, Nate had spent a good part of Saturday in and out of her apartment helping her. Spending a second night with them was above and beyond the call of duty. “Did I tell you,” Susannah said, yawning, “Michelle’s got a new tooth coming in—I felt it myself.” Deposited in the high chair, Michelle was content for the moment.

Nate nodded and glanced at his watch. “When does your sister’s flight get in?”

“One-fifteen.” No sooner had the words left her lips than the phone rang. Susannah’s and Nate’s eyes met, and as it rang a second time she wondered how a telephone could sound so much like a death knell. Even before she answered it, Susannah knew it would be what she most dreaded hearing.

“Well?” Nate asked when she’d finished the call.

Covering her face with both hands, Susannah sagged against the wall.

“Say something.”

Slowly she lowered her hands. “Help.”

“Help?”

“Yes,” she cried, struggling to keep her voice from cracking. “All Puget Air flights are grounded just the way the news reported, and the other airline Robert and Emily made reservations with is overbooked. The earliest flight they can get is tomorrow morning.”

“I see.”

“Obviously you don’t!” she cried. “Tomorrow is Monday and I’ve got to be at work!”

“Call in sick.”

“I can’t do that,” she snapped, angry with him for even suggesting such a thing. “My marketing group is giving their presentation and I’ve got to be there.”