Mom in the Middle (13 page)

“I need to ask a big favor.” Her voice was soft. She buffed palms against crossed arms as if fighting off a chill.

“Anything.”

Her hands fell limp at her sides. In the dark it was hard to see her face, to read the expression in her sable eyes. Why was she reluctant to speak up, to verbalize this “big favor” she had to ask?

Then it hit him. Money. She was going to ask for money. What else could possibly make her this uncomfortable?

“Abby, what do you need?”

She spoke so softly he couldn't hear.

“I'm sorry, hon, say that again.”

She sucked her lungs full of air and let out a tired sigh that made him want to wrap her in his arms till some of his strength passed into her lovely body.

“Would you hug me again?” She didn't reach out to him. Didn't wiggle an inch. In fact, he was almost positive she expected rejection.

His spirit ached at the idea that she thought he might actually refuse her, that she assumed he'd only do it as a favor. As much as women thrive on reassuring words, seeing was what really enabled believing. His answer came easily. He closed the short space between them, opened his arms. She hesitated. Shy now that she had to make a move of her own.

 

A long moment passed. Abby bit the inside of her lip, considered backing out, thanked God the overhead light was out and Guy couldn't see the tears threatening. Being needy was bad enough. Being chicken on top of it was too much for her pride.

Lord give me courage
was all the prayer she had time for.

Just as her son had done an hour earlier, she shamelessly threw herself against Guy, wound her arms around his waist, pressed her palms flat against his back and pulled herself to him tightly. He folded around her, tucked her beneath his chin and stroked her tired shoulders with sure, firm hands.

“What's all this about?” he murmured into her hair.

She couldn't speak. Between the need lumped up in her throat and the wild pounding of her heart, no
breath could whistle through her vocal cords to produce sound.

She'd just have to show him.

A
bby skimmed her palms across Guy's physique as she slid them away from his back and up the front of his chest. She stood on tiptoe, locked her hands behind his neck and pulled his face within a couple inches of hers.

“I have a revelation for you.” She was bold.

“Is that right?”

“Yes, sir.” She nodded, drawing out the moment, enjoying the closeness of a man more than she ever thought possible.

“Well…” He leaned in to her. “How about sharing it?” The words were a husky whisper.

“If that kiss had lasted a moment longer, I'd have returned it.” She recognized the same quality in her own voice. The feelings were painfully evident, at least to her ears.

He turned his face from side to side, searching the dark confines of the small porch. “I don't see
anybody or anything stopping you from doing that now.” He stilled, gave her control of the decision.

Her blood raced, pulse resounded in her ears. If she waited another second her knees were going to buckle and he'd have to catch her, or worse help her up off the concrete floor.

She risked the smallest beginning, let her lips softly touch his. He sighed and took the control back as his mouth covered hers, searching her very soul with his kiss. They clung together for long minutes, exchanging tender touches and murmured words.

He pulled away, took a step back and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Abby, I'm so tempted to do that again. Please go inside before I forget all the reasons why this is a bad idea.”

Bad idea?

The sweetest kiss she'd ever experienced was just condensed into two words.

Bad idea!

“You're right, of course.” She ducked her head and passed the back of her hand across her lips, still trembling from his touch.

A bolt of lightning split the sky above their heads. A clap of thunder resounded close enough to set off the alarm in the H&H truck. Guy pulled the keys from his pocket just as the heavens opened and released enough rain to turn the narrow driveway into a new tributary of the Colorado.

“I'll call you,” he yelled over the torrential pounding on the roof, and made a run for it.

Abby's sinking spirits lifted at the sight of Guy's drenched body struggling with the door that wouldn't open until the alarm was disengaged, something that seemed to take several tries before he was successful. By the time he scrambled into the truck, he was soaked to the skin.

She opened the screen door, stepped inside the quiet house and watched as the man who'd just called their kiss a bad idea disappeared into the downpour.

 

If, as Texans claimed, the Lone Star State was God's country, then Austin had turned into His swimmin' hole! The rest of the week it rained as if Noah himself had called it down. The thoroughfares flooded; the mayor asked all but emergency vehicles to stay off the streets and naturally, school was canceled. Critical days of test preparation were lost and would have to be recovered somehow. It was makeup work that weighed heavily on Abby's mind since her kids' placement in the year-end skills tests was a direct reflection on her teaching ability.

Then there was the misery of being confined to the stuffy house when they'd all rather be outside, Dillon digging in his sandbox, Daddy making his daily commute to visit Mama and Abby doing the hundred things that needed to be accomplished that week. The weather would set her back much more than the couple of days it lasted because it would be many more before the earth dried out enough to continue the playground project.

Mother's Day was closing in. Instead of being the happy celebration it had been in the past, it was looming on the calendar, a deadline with so much riding on it.

Friday morning the phone jangled at 6:00 a.m.

“Who in blue blazes is making calls at this hour?”

“I've got it, Daddy,” Abby called toward her parents' bedroom as she cinched the belt of her cotton robe and reached for the wall phone that hung just inside the kitchen door.

Who indeed? Only the rehab center would be calling so early, though she wasn't about to say so. She planted her feet, grabbed the handset and prepared for the worst.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, sunshine!”

“Guy?” Her voice rose.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

She glanced at the kitchen clock for confirmation.

“Well, it's barely six and I was afraid it might be the hospital calling.”

“Oh, I'm so sorry, hon. I wouldn't worry you like that even for a moment.”

“It's okay. What's up that has you on the phone so early?”

“First, I wanted to apologize for not calling to check on you for a few days. I've been really busy with a Mother's Day deadline of my own, but I wanted to make it a priority to see if you needed anything this morning.”

“I need the sun to come out today and dry up all this water so I can get something done this weekend. Now we'll never be ready for the dedication.” She sounded whiny. Well, shoot, she had a right to be disappointed. The results of her hard work were probably being washed away as they spoke.

Guy chuckled on his end of the phone.

“Please tell me what you find amusing about that.”

“Get your jeans on and I'll be there in fifteen minutes. The water has subsided on the major roads so we can go for a ride and I'll show you.”

“I can't go off and leave Dillon alone with Dad, and I have to be at school by noon.” The rain had let up overnight and teachers had been asked to report to work by midday.

“We'll take Dillon with us and I'll have you back home by nine. I'll treat us all to a hearty breakfast at Flapjack Heaven. Those genius Carlton brothers just opened up their hundredth location not too far from New Harvest and they're giving away all kinds crazy of prizes to celebrate. I thought I might get some ideas for the picnic this weekend. Then afterwards, we can drive by the church and see how the place has held up against the weather.”

Abby dragged a hand through her tangled mess of curls. She knew she should decline, but the fluttering against her ribs at the thought of how Dillon would enjoy an outing with Guy, especially after a couple of days of being shut in the house, was too much to resist.

Her inner voice called her bluff.
Who are you fooling, kiddo? Don't blame the desire to be with a man who recently called your kiss a “bad idea” on your innocent son. Guy works on a Mother's Day project and you melt. He offers you a ride to breakfast and you start fluffing your hair. Get a grip. The man is a rescuer and a do-gooder. Let him exercise his savior complex and then get back to the business of taking care of your family.

“Okay.” She stood and set her coffee cup in the sink. “You talked me into it. Give me time to get Dillon dressed and twist my hair into a knot and we'll be ready to go.

“Perfect. And Abby?”

“Yes?”

“Leave your hair down.”

 

Breakfast was a joy. Abby couldn't remember when she'd had so much fun watching her son mutilate a meal. His stubby fingers were gummy with butter, syrup and pancake. His face was equally gooey but he'd managed to put away a plateful of silver-dollar flapjacks in record time.

Dillon played with the remnants of his breakfast, swirled his fingers on his sticky plate then held an offering aloft. Abby watched from across the table, astonished each time Guy accepted a bite, smacked his lips with a loud “Yum, yum, yum!” making Dillon squeal with delight.

“What?” Guy asked her when she smiled at him.

“You're incredible with my son. I have to confess I'm a bit reluctant to accept most of his mealtime offerings.”

“You washed his hands before we were seated, and he basically had the same thing on his plate that I had on mine.” Guy defended Dillon. “He's learning to share, to be generous. I wouldn't dream of discouraging him.”

“You're a big-hearted person.”

“I had great role models.”

“Your sisters again, I suppose?”

“Heck, no!” He smiled and rolled his eyes. “The gaggle taught me lots of things, that's for sure. But I learned generosity from the men in our family. My dad and my eleven uncles all have hearts for giving. When Dad was raising the seed money for Hearth and Home it was our family who stepped up first. They believed in my dad and wouldn't let him fail. I credit my parents' siblings for the success we have today.” He took a sip of hot coffee and seemed to consider what he said next. His gaze locked on hers. “Abby, family is the most important thing in life to me. There's
nothing
I wouldn't do to protect the ones I love.”

She returned his stare. In the bottom of her stomach, her breakfast turned to stone as she interpreted the message he'd just delivered. He would line up against anybody who tried to come between him and family. And that included her. How many times and how many ways did he have to tell her he had all the family he needed?

Dillon cocked his arm back and flung the last bite of mushed-up pancake. It sailed several feet, frapped against the wall beside them and skipped a sticky trail downward till it came to rest on the tile floor.

“Wow, with that arm our boy could be a closer for the Astros,” Guy joked, then took his napkin and scooped up the mess. “Think we should give him a hunk of biscuit to see if he can do that again?”

But Abby was already focused on cleaning Dillon's squirming fingers with a wet nap. Anything to keep from thinking about Guy's warning. And wasn't that exactly what it had been? A warning that his family was precious to him and he'd protect them at all costs. That was an admirable quality in a man. She should be impressed. Instead she felt threatened, alone, on the outside looking in.

He stood. “Here, let me help.” He slipped strong hands against Dillon's sides, scooped him out of the high chair and held him dangling at arm's length so she could wipe him down. The room filled with the sound of her son's bubbly laughter as he kicked thick-soled sneakers and enjoyed the game.

“Guy! Wheet, wheet!”

“Little buddy, as flattering as it is to me and the blue jays, we need to teach you some more words. I'm gonna bring some treats tomorrow so you can feed the animals and learn their names.”

“Animals?” Abby looked up from her effort to remove maple syrup from Dillon's chubby legs.

“Sure. The petting zoo is always a favorite.”

“You mean you haven't canceled the picnic?”

“You don't think we cancel H&H events just because of a little rain, do you?”

“A
little
rain? Even by Texas standards this week's rainfall has been a gully washer.”

“And that's why we always have a backup plan for our employee events. We go all out to show them our appreciation. It's part of what makes our work atmosphere so special.” He cuddled Dillon in the crook of a strong arm and tossed several bills on the table.

“Backup plan, huh?” She slung the ever-present diaper bag over her shoulder.

“The Hardy family is famous for our backup plans. We don't like to let anything come between us and a deadline. Tomorrow you'll witness it on a corporate scale, but right now you're about to see what the Warden is capable of on her own.”

Abby took a step away from Guy and drew her chin to her chest, scared turtle style.

“Oh, my. What could Casey possibly be up to in this weather?”

What indeed!

Ten minutes later Abby got her first exposure to the work of Casey Hardy when she was racing ahead of a deadline. The half acre of land behind New Harvest Church looked as if it were being treated as a hazardous-substance spill site!

“What in the…” Abby was literally lost for words. The last of the drizzle had stopped during their breakfast. Morning sun angled through the clouds and
glinted off the slick parking lot. She climbed from the truck and stood transfixed, staring at the sight while Guy helped Dillon from his car seat.

An enormous navy-blue tent any traveling circus would be proud to own had been erected. Industrial-size generators powered pumps that blew air into the top of the protective covering, then sucked streams of water around and past the booms strung end to end to prevent leakage beneath the tent. The thing moved with a breathing motion like those big blow-up moon walks kids loved at the school carnivals.

“This is why I laughed when you said you wouldn't be ready for the dedication on Mother's Day. Casey never leaves anything to chance. You put her second in command and, by golly, she's not going to fall short of the goal.”

“How…? What…?” Abby was dazed, downright amazed by the sight before her. And even more so considering
nobody
had phoned to tell her this was going on.

“Come on.” He touched her arm, gently urged her toward the flap of canvas folded back to mark the entrance. “All the answers are waiting inside, so go see for yourself.”

Lively praise music poured from the opening as they approached. A female sang along, the effort heartfelt and robust even if off-key. Abby quirked an eyebrow at Guy, unable to hold back a smile.

“Yep, it's a family curse,” he said, reading her mind. “None of us can carry a tune in a bucket except
for our mom. She has an angel's voice and the rest of us croak like bullfrogs.”

“Well, the message of the music is more important than the messenger anyway, right?”

“Still doesn't stop some people from wanting to shoot the messenger to spare their ears.” He grinned and swept his palm outward, her cue to precede him into the tent.

Abby ducked her head, stepped through the opening and stood as if hypnotized, wide eyed, stunned. Floodlights suspended upon tall poles filled the area with artificial daylight. The whirling blades of several huge cage fans blew a mechanical breeze that stirred the grass and the flowering plants, heavy with blooms sure to burst with a cornucopia of color just in time for Mother's Day.