More Than Words: Stories of Hope (15 page)

Forest leaned toward her as Anna grappled with her own seat belt. Her arm brushed his chest.

“Uh, Anna—”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with this seat belt.” She wrestled with the buckle. “I can’t seem to get it clicked.”

Forest shifted in his seat. “Do you, uh, need some help?”

Heavens, she hoped not. She straightened, her palm extended. “Gummi Worm!”

“What?”

“There was a Gummi Worm stuck in it.”

“Joey’s snack. A token of single fatherhood. Bribes.” He passed the half-full bag of Gummies to Joey. “Here ya go, son.”

“Well, I didn’t think it was yours.” She flicked the biodegradable candy out the window. “Actually, I’m starving. I ran out of snacks around three.”

She’d sneaked off for bathroom breaks when the place looked deserted, but there weren’t any vending machines, and going into a restaurant to grab a hamburger seemed like cheating.

Oaks and pines whizzed past as they drove along the deserted roads. Forest was quiet, and so was Joey, happy with his treat. But Anna was still geared up.

Five minutes passed before she finally exploded, “They want to build a—” she glanced back at Joey then over at Forest “—S-T-R-I-P club there. Oh sure, they’re calling it a ‘gentleman’s club,’ but we all know what that really means. It’s bad enough to have an establishment like that in our town, but especially awful right next to the library.” She shook her head. “I can’t stand silently by.”

“I’m frustrated, too, Anna, but it sounds like a done deal.” The dashboard light illuminated his strong square jaw.

“It’s not over until they roll in the bulldozers. I couldn’t stay quiet while there’s time to make a difference.”

“I hear you and I understand. But there are better ways.” Forest turned into Anna’s driveway, gravel crunching as he drove toward the brick cottage she’d rented last week.

Headlights swept across the dormant garden and highlighted the man rocking on the front porch. Judge Edward Bonneau sat bathed in the hazy glow. Her father.

No doubt he’d received his courtesy call from the police station on how things had shaken down. Politics and protocol
were more than a little loose in small-town Oscoda. Of course. Why else would Forest have shown up in the first place?

Could the night get any worse?

Anna eased her achy body out of the vehicle, stiff from sitting so long. She really could have benefited from a bike ride home. Her father pushed to his feet, short and wiry, but imposing nonetheless. The porch light cast a friendly glow over the paver stones she’d crafted with inset marbles. She’d carted those hefty steppers from home to home—treasures she’d made with her mother as a child.

Her father snapped his suspenders over his seersucker pajama top. “Sugar, you’ve come to the end of the line. I hear my old rival Judge Randall’s gonna crack down next time you get a ticket, and throw the book at you. We’re talking serious jail time, daughter dear.”

Sugar? Daughter dear?
She was twenty-five years old, for Pete’s sake. Why couldn’t they communicate as adults?

Uh, wait. Her feet stalled.
Serious
jail time? She was cool with being booked for a few hours or even a night, as had happened in the past. But nothing more, especially if it interfered with her new job. “I’ll be working at the library before he can make a big stink.”

Her father ambled down three of the five steps, stopping eye level with Forest. “Well, boy, what’s your plan?”

“Pop, calm down.” She breezed over and kissed his leathery
cheek. She missed the simpler days of their attempted picnics and homework review. “Forest will take care of everything. You can go home.”

“Not a chance. I need to hear his plan of action.”

Of course he would. She knew this battle wasn’t worth fighting. Her father showed his love through trying to micromanage her life. She’d learned to basically keep her silence and go her own way.

She might as well play with Joey, who was squirming to get out of his booster seat. Anna turned to the two men on the porch.

The sooner Forest could talk to her dad, the sooner both men would head home. “Fine. I’ll just let Joey out to play.”

“Anna,” Forest called out. “About Joey—”

She waved over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. I may not be a parent, but I can handle one little boy.”

The dome light illuminated Joey’s frustration as he strained against the confines of his booster seat. He continued to thrash until his precious little sunglasses flew off to one side—

Revealing wide, unseeing blue eyes.

“F
orest?” She turned to look at him for affirmation of what she couldn’t deny but didn’t want to voice out loud in case she upset the child.

Little Joey was blind. Only now did she see the white stick at his feet on the floorboard. Forest had been carrying him earlier or holding his hand. She thought of all his sentences, which she’d interrupted, and now—

Forest simply nodded his head, his expression fiercely protective. Of course. Any normal parent would be, because she’d learned long ago that people could be cruelly imperceptive at times.

Her heart ached for the little guy and the extra challenges
he would face. As if life wasn’t already tough enough. But she refused to make Joey feel self-conscious. He was an active young boy, just like the students she’d worked with in her reading groups—special needs or not—during her previous library position.

The minute they cleared up things with her father, she would go online to the Seedlings Braille Books for Children Web site to place her order for some preschool books with Braille added.

“Hi, Joey. It’s Miss Anna.” She announced herself so he wouldn’t be surprised. “I’ll let you out now so you can play while we talk. If you’re hungry, how about graham crackers?”

“I’m full of Gummies now. I just wanna play.”

“Fair enough, big guy.”

She unstrapped him and helped him out of the seat, then slipped her hand into his. She leaned into the truck for his white cane and passed it to him. In her work at the library, she’d learned that small children needed a cane that reached shoulder level rather than sternum level. The smaller canes caused too many injuries if a child stumbled forward. At four, Joey would still be acclimating to the cane, so she called out potential hazards and kept hold of his hand.

“Big tree root ahead,” she announced, lifting him over it with a squeal of “Whee!”

His giggle swept away all the frustrations of a long day. She
glanced up to the porch. The gratitude on Forest’s face stirred an entirely different sort of excitement in her.

Swallowing hard, she returned her attention to Joey. She needed to think of something to keep him occupied in this unfamiliar environment while the adults spoke. Her eyes lit on the wheelbarrow. “Would you like a ride in my magic wagon?”

“Magic?” His face tipped up to hers, his sightless gaze slightly left of her.

“Magic and super speedy.” Most little boys enjoyed fast-moving toys, and bottom line, he was like any other child.

She slid her hands under his armpits, plopped him in the wheelbarrow and started steering him along the bumpy yard. He clutched the sides and squealed, apparently content with the magic chariot for the moment at least.

Her father made his way down the steps of her two-bedroom cottage so they could converse while she jostled around the yard with Joey.

“Anna,” Pop said, “word around the courthouse has it Judge Randall wants to get back at me for all the years I beat him out for a position on the bench. We all know he’s a vindictive old cuss. You’re playing right into his hands with your protesting.” His expression of concern mirrored Forest’s for his child a few minutes earlier. “I’m worried about you.”

That small show of affection from her father almost crumbled her defenses.
Almost.
But she’d stopped looking for his approval
long ago. They just didn’t connect. “Pop, I’m an adult. What I do doesn’t reflect on you. Disown me. I officially absolve you of responsibility.”

Gasping for breath, she turned and jabbed her finger toward Forest, quickly grabbing the wheelbarrow handle again. “And you—there won’t be any need for you to defend me, because I will simply lie low as Dad suggests.”

Her father fished out a handkerchief from his pocket. “Now, sugar, don’t get all fired up. You look just like your mama when you do that. You’re gonna make me get all maudlin, and that’s not good for the old ticker.”

Sometimes, Anna thought, listening to her father, it was hard to believe he was a respected judge. She steered a cheering Joey toward her father. “Pop, you have the heart of a sixteen-year-old.”

“Please, Anna.” He raked a hand through his rusty-red hair. “Listen and pretend to care about my opinion.”

Anna reminded herself that her father didn’t pay her bills, hadn’t since she’d graduated from high school and landed her first scholarship. So why should she care about his opinion?

Because he was still her father and she was a natural-born caregiver. She sighed. “Five minutes, tops.”

“Five it is then. Come on over here and have a seat, you two. Pass that little fella to me.”

A possessive feeling stirred within her. “I’ve got Joey.”

“Joey,” her father called. “Wanna come sit with me?”

“Papa Bonneau! You have any candy?” The boy turned his head, a huge smile creasing his precious chubby cheeks.

He scrambled out of the wheelbarrow, but Anna caught him a split second before he hit the ground. She took his hand and led him to her father, which was apparently where he wanted to be.

Her father scooped up the little guy and pulled out a roll of Lifesavers. “Forest?”

Anna wilted onto the porch swing. “We might as well hear Pop out,” she said to Forest. “He’ll only track us down later.”

“Fine.” Forest scrubbed a hand over his face, shaking his head as if to clear his thoughts.

He climbed the steps slowly, like a man marching toward the gallows. His eyes narrowed as he joined Anna on the swing, the only seat left on the porch. Had the swing shrunk with the last rain?

She breathed in the calming, earthy scents from the vegetable garden. “Okay, Pop. I’m listening.”

Her father thumbed another piece of candy for Joey, tapping his shoes as he rocked. “You’ve done well for Anna today, Forest. I always knew you’d make a levelheaded attorney. But daughter dear, I’m afraid even Forest can’t save your hide if you land in Randall’s court.”

Anna drummed her fingers along the armrest and studied
a water bug scuttling across the planked porch. Forest shifted, crossing his long legs at the ankles as he set the swing into motion. How much had he grown since high school?

“I appreciate your, uh, concern, Pop, but I’m not giving up my protests for anyone.” She’d seen in college how effective a simple sit-in could be to protest a book banning at the library. “If Judge Randall wants to turn tough next time, I’ll be the one stuck with the consequences.”

Her father shot a pleading look at Forest. “Got any thoughts on this in your bag of summation tricks?”

Forest hooked his arm along the back of the porch swing and faced Anna. “Do you realize how lucky you are to have grown up in a town like this? An established good name isn’t something to throw away.”

She hesitated. Of course she had considered that aspect, not that she would acknowledge it to the pair of controlling males on her porch. The answer flowered in her mind like the blossoming buds on her tomato plants in season.

“You’re both right.”

Their slack jaws could have trapped a healthy supply of flies.

She continued while she had them off balance. “I know the best way to keep me out of Judge Randall’s radar. Poor Forest is in a real pickle with no nanny. How can he work with his son underfoot all day?”

Forest stared at her with a deep intensity until she couldn’t
resist the gravitational pull. He had such beautiful eyes, baby blues, now filled with a concern that caressed her like a refreshing spring shower.

“Okay, Anna, what’s your idea?”

She inhaled deeply, afraid if she actually considered this scheme any longer than a few seconds, she’d back out before telling them. “While you’re looking for a permanent nanny, I’ll be Joey’s sitter for the next two weeks. It’s a way to help you and at the same time will keep me out of the judge’s radar.”

And quite frankly, it was something she
wanted
to do, to help that precious little boy.

She looked up for their reaction.

Forest jerked and attempted to stand up, launching the swing forward. Anna grabbed his arm just as the chain closest to the edge of the porch snapped, tipping the swing seat sideways.

They slid off the swing and the porch, tumbling into the tomato and cucumber patch. And the only thing that surprised Anna was why she was still holding on to Forest’s arm.

“Forest? Forest? Are you okay?”

Soft hands patted his cheeks. His head throbbed. The aroma of mashed vegetation hovered around him. How many veggies could be left in the garden this late in the season?

He struggled to pull himself out of this dazed fog. He couldn’t move yet, so he just lay sprawled on his back.

“Wake up. Come on, Forest. You’re scaring Joey.”

At the mention of his son, Forest forced his eyes open. He had to be okay for his son. There was no one else to take care of Joey with his mother in the Riviera and the nanny out the door. But there was something soft pressing down on him, preventing him from moving.

Anna. She lay atop Forest without room for a summons to slide between them.

“Forest? Forest!”

Forest.
He cringed at the constant repetition of his name. What had possessed his parents to name him for the place where they’d conceived him? He should probably be grateful they hadn’t opted to name him after the stars or something. Betelgeuse would have been beyond bearing.

He winced, and it wasn’t from the lump on the back of his head or the lovely woman on top of him. Hadn’t he suffered enough from his unconventional family life? His biker parents turned commune teachers had served up plenty of embarrassment.

“Forest?” Anna rested her elbows on his chest, her face less than an inch away. “Are you awake?”

“Barely.”

“Thank goodness.”

Forest could feel her relax against him. “Anna? It’s time for me to—”

“Why didn’t you tell me about Joey?” she whispered.

“I tried. There wasn’t a chance.”

She nodded and stayed politely quiet while he formed his explanation.

Forest stared up at her, a fierce protectiveness surging through him. “Joey was a preemie, two and a half months early. He has retinopathy of prematurity—ROP. He can see light and dark, but that’s it.”

He didn’t want pity for his son, simply acceptance, and thank heavens, that’s exactly what he saw in Anna’s beautiful green eyes…

The porch floor creaked. Judge Bonneau peered over the broken swing. Joey was cradled to his chest, drooling a green Lifesaver. “Are you two all right?”

“I think so.” Anna’s breath puffed over Forest. “And you?”

“Just fi—”

“Daughter dear,” the judge said, grinning, “you’ll make a wonderful nanny for little Joey.”

Nanny? Nanny!
Forest’s hands fell away from Anna as if he were scalded. How could he have forgotten her proposition? He jackknifed up, and Anna rolled to the side in a flurry of arms and legs.

“It’s perfect.” Her father nodded in agreement. “You could use the money to tide you over, and you have the time free before you start to work at the library. Forest needs the help since his ex is away.”

Forest scrambled for words in his definitely scrambled brain. “I’ve had some women in town offer to help out.”

The judge shook his head, jowls jiggling. “Those aren’t the kind of women to look out for Joey. They’re not interested in the child, just the father. Not like you, daughter dear.”

Forest wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted.

Anna shoved to her feet. “So, Forest? What’s your verdict on me as a sitter? Yes or no?”

As if on cue, Joey started to cry. Before Forest could even think to move, Anna had rushed to her father’s side and scooped up the child from his lap.

“Would you like some chocolate milk?” she whispered. “Hmm?”

The judge tapped Forest on the arm. “Watch.”

Anna swayed gently, running her hand over Joey’s curls until he sagged against her and buried his face in her neck. With his fingers, he traced her features, learning her face.

He wanted to know her.

“I like chocolate milk.” His soft voice carried on the wind.

Forest didn’t consider himself a man stirred by strong emotions, but his heart gave an extra
ka-thump,
like an engine turning over. He wanted a normal life for himself, and the same for his son. Yet, he couldn’t even manage to keep a nanny for Joey, much less a mother.

“Sir, no disrespect meant, but I’m fairly certain your daughter and I would find it hard to get along even for that short a time.”

“It’s only a couple of weeks, until her job starts and your ex is back in the country to pitch in. You’ll be at work during the day.” The older man leaned in for the kill. “Forest, my boy, think of your son. We fathers have to put our children’s interests first.”

Joey snuggled closer to Anna. A hiccuping sigh shuddered through his solid body as she headed inside for the promised treat. Forest had always prided himself on his control, but Anna had a way of breaking down barriers.

It was only for a couple of weeks.

He could feel himself caving. He had to do the right thing for Joey. The kid rarely had his mother around. How could Forest deny him the closest thing to maternal affection in town?

He couldn’t, no matter what the cost to his personal sanity.