Apprentice Father Page 5

  “Go sit.” Cate grinned and gave him a firm push. “Let the expert take over.”

  The twinkle in his eye mitigated his indignant tone. “Expert, huh? I’ll have you know I was a champion kite flyer in my younger days.”

  “Okay, okay, you can try again in a minute. In the meantime, go sit.”

  “I’ll be back,” he told the children. “We’ll get this baby up yet.”

  As he headed for a nearby bench Emily leaned toward Cate and spoke in a whisper. “I don’t think it’s going to fly.”

  Cate considered the kite. In general, she didn’t attempt any activity that required her to run, but her leg felt strong today. She wouldn’t have to go far. A few steps, at the most. She was sure she could get the kite to soar with very little effort. The temptation to give it a try herself was too strong to resist.

  Ignoring the warning that began to flash in her mind, she turned to the children. “Emily, you hold the kite again. Josh, you take the tail. Let’s show Pop who the real champion kite flyers are.”

  The children’s eyes lit up. Cate saw Pop rise from the bench, but she ignored him. “Okay. One, two,” she began to run, “three!”

  Emily and Josh released the kite, and Cate ran as she hadn’t run in years. Not with her old grace or speed. But she was running. And it felt great!

  Until she stepped onto an uneven spot in the ground and pitched forward.

  As Cate fell, she released the kite string and tried to brace herself for the impact. But the new spring grass didn’t offer much cushion from the hard ground. When her hands connected with the earth, a shaft of pain shot up her left arm.

  And she knew she’d made a big mistake.

  Clay consulted his watch, took off his hard hat, and stuck his head in the door of the construction trailer. “I’m taking an early lunch today, Becky. I should be back in an hour.”

  The office manager grinned. “Hot date?”

  “Yeah. With a kite.”

  “Huh?” She sent him a puzzled look.

  “The kids got a new kite yesterday. They were going to fly it before lunch. I thought I’d run over to the park and surprise them.”

  “They must be getting under your skin.” She gave him a smirk.

  He quirked a brow and ignored her comment. “See you later.”

  But she was right, he acknowledged as he drove to the park. The kids were getting under his skin. He enjoyed their innocent questions, took pleasure in eliciting their smiles. And it gave him a good feeling to watch their haunted look fade day by day—thanks in large part to Cate’s gentle ministrations.

  He hadn’t had a chance this morning to talk to her about reimbursement for the kite, or quiz her about how she planned to get it aloft. He’d had an emergency page from the job site as she’d arrived and had flown out the door the instant she’d stepped inside. The crisis had kept him busy all morning. But he’d blocked out time to take an early lunch and go fly a kite with them instead of letting Cate put herself at risk.

  As he pulled into the park, he slowed his speed, scanning the grounds. He didn’t see Cate, but the movement of an older man rising from a bench caught his attention. His tense posture put Clay on alert, and he followed the man’s line of sight—to Cate and the children.

  She was holding the kite, and as he pulled into a parking space he saw the children grasp it. They backed up, and a tingle of apprehension raced down his spine. He set the brake and climbed out of his truck, striding toward the small group as Cate started to run.

  Considering her lameness, he was surprised at how fast she could move. His step slowed as his appreciative gaze followed her willowy, jeans-clad form across the spring grass. And the radiant joy on her face took his breath away.

  But in the next moment, what little breath remained in his lungs came out in a whoosh as she stumbled and fell. Headlong and hard. His heart stopped for an instant, and then his adrenaline surged, propelling him forward.

  Seconds later he was beside her, well ahead of the children or the older man he’d noticed earlier. She had rolled to her side and lay curled into a ball, cradling her hand.

  Dropping down on one knee, he touched her shoulder. “Cate?” Her name came out in a hoarse whisper.

  She blinked up at him in confusion. “Clay? What are you doing here?”

  “I was going to help you fly the kite. I see I’m too late.” She struggled to sit up, but he restrained her. “I’m not sure you should move until we know if you’re hurt.”

  “I’m okay.” She shrugged off his hand as she sat. “I just twisted my wrist. I’ll be fine.” She looked over his shoulder and managed a shaky smile. “We almost got it up, didn’t we?”

  He turned. Emily had grown pale, and Josh was huddled beside her. The older man stood behind them, a comforting hand resting on each of their shoulders.

  “It-it flied real good for a minute.” Josh’s words were quavery.

  “Did you hurt your leg again?” Emily sounded close to tears.

  “No. It’s okay.”

  She attempted to stand, and again Clay restrained her. “Are you sure you’re okay?” He kept his volume low. Partly because he didn’t want to further distress the children. And partly because he didn’t trust his voice.

  Angling her head toward him, she opened her mouth to speak…but nothing came out.

  Staring into her gorgeous eyes mere inches away, Clay misplaced his voice, too. Fringed by long, sweeping lashes, their green depths were flecked with gold, he realized. And that wasn’t all he noticed. Beneath his fingers, her shoulders felt delicate and soft. A capricious breeze ruffled her hair, and without stopping to think, he brushed it back from her cheek, letting the silky strands drift through his fingers as his mouth went dry.

  The older man cleared his throat, breaking the spell. “You okay, honey?”

  With an obvious effort, Cate directed her attention behind Clay again, a slow flush creeping across her cheeks. “Yes. I’m fine.” Her breathless reassurance, however, wasn’t at all credible. “Pop, this is Clay Adams. Clay, my grandfather.” As she did the introductions, she glanced at Clay briefly.

  Forcing himself to break contact, Clay rose and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”

  “Likewise.” Pop’s grip was firm, his eyes shrewd and discerning.

  As Cate began to stand, Clay turned to support her. She leaned into him, cradling her wrist, a grimace of pain pulling her features taut.

  “We need to have that checked out.”

  “No. I have some ace bandages at home that will take care of it.” She tipped her chin up to look at him, her eyes anxious. “Sorry about this. I know my limits, and I try not to take foolish chances, but once in a while I forget. In most cases, I live to regret it. Like today. It doesn’t mean I can’t take good care of the children.”

  “I know that.” At the conviction in his voice, the tension in her face eased. Good. He didn’t want her worrying about his confidence in her.

  Next, he addressed the children, who were still too subdued and quiet. “Why don’t we all go out to lunch?”

  “Could we get hamburgers?” Emily asked, brightening.

  “And French fries?” Josh added.

  “Sure.” He turned to Cate’s grandfather. “You’re welcome to join us, too, sir.”

  The older man, who had been watching the exchange with interest, shook his head. “Make it Pop. Everyone else does. And I’ll take a rain check on the burger. The garden club meeting starts in an hour and I have to swing by the house and pick up a few things.” He bent down to the children, hands on knees. “We’re not going to give up on this kite. On the next windy day, we have a date.”

  Emily and Josh sent Cate an uncertain, but hopeful, glance.

  “That sounds good,” she agreed with a smile. “And next trip, I’ll stay on the sidelines. I promise.” She aimed her final remark at Clay.

  “Maybe I’ll come, too,” he said.

  “Our daddy never did anything like that with u
s.” There was a hint of melancholy in Emily’s tone.

  Clay dropped down to balance beside them on the balls of his feet. “That’s too bad. He missed a lot of fun.” Squeezing her hand and ruffling Josh’s hair, he rose. “Okay, let’s see about that lunch.”

  As they walked toward the parking area, Clay realized Cate’s limp was more pronounced than usual. But he knew she was making a valiant effort to hide it for the sake of the children, trying to reassure them everything was okay.

  He understood her motivation. He felt the same need to protect the kids. While it was a new feeling for him, he found it surprisingly appealing.

  Even more surprising, however, was the protective feeling he felt about Cate. That, too, was appealing. But scary. Very scary.

  Suddenly she stumbled, lurching against him, and his arm shot out to steady her. She murmured a soft thank-you and tried to move away, but he slipped his arm around her shoulders again.

  “Relax and lean on me,” he said close to her ear. “There’s no sense putting any extra strain on your leg.”

  For an instant, she stiffened. But in the end she complied—leading Clay to assume she was hurting more than she’d let on. Cate didn’t strike him as the kind of woman who leaned on people very often.

  There was no opportunity to analyze her response, however, because all at once Clay felt small fingers slipping into his other hand. Josh looked up at him, one finger in his mouth as he trotted beside his uncle, ready to jerk his hand free if his overture met with a negative reaction.

  A wave of tenderness washed over Clay, and he tried to blink away the hot tears welling in his eyes. Mere weeks ago this little boy had been too traumatized to speak, isolating himself from everyone but Emily. While much work remained to be done, Clay knew Josh’s reaching out, testing the waters, was a sign of great progress. That the healing had started. And with the help of the woman beside him, it would continue.

  Once in the parking lot, Pop lifted a hand in farewell. “We’ll get that kite up yet,” he promised the children.

  As Pop slid into his car, Clay looked at Cate. And tried not to drown in those green pools she called eyes. “Why don’t we take my truck to lunch?”

  Cate moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, drawing his attention to them. Once more, his mouth went dry.

  “Okay.” Her reply came out in a throaty voice he’d never heard before.

  They set off toward his truck, and when Josh tugged free to climb up, Clay felt bereft without the boy’s small hand tucked in his. It was also time to remove his arm from Cate’s shoulder, Clay knew.

  But for a man who valued his independence and had avoided commitments for his entire adult life, the oddest thing happened.

  He didn’t want to let her go.

  It was time for more aspirin.

  With a slight moan, Cate swung her legs to the floor and peered at her bedside clock. Three in the morning. She had to be back at Clay’s in four and a half hours, and so far she’d logged no more than two hours of sleep.

  Shuffling toward the bathroom, cane in hand and aching all over after her kite-flying caper yesterday, she tried to attribute her sleeplessness to her physical discomfort.

  But she knew that was only part of it.

  The bulk of the blame rested on Clay.

  As she rummaged bleary-eyed through the drawers in the bathroom vanity, she tried to analyze why a man she hadn’t even known existed three weeks ago could wreak havoc on her sleep, filling her nights with restless dreams that left her feeling unsettled come morning.

  Early on, she’d attributed her reaction to chemistry. But that didn’t quite ring true anymore. Not that the chemistry wasn’t there, though. Despite the fact that Clay wasn’t the type who usually attracted her, she couldn’t dismiss that stomach flutter thing. It happened every time he was around. Nor could she ignore the way her nerve endings tingled whenever he came within three feet of her.

  But it was more than chemistry.

  For whatever reason, the rootless, commitment-averse engineer who had zero tolerance for religion and came from a dysfunctional family had touched her heart.

  She supposed his innate kindness, demonstrated in simple gestures, played a role in her reaction. Like the rubber toys she’d found propped on the edge of his bathtub. And the Disney night-light he’d installed in the room—his room—where the children slept. And the way he listened to their prayers at night, despite his own feelings about religion. Emily had told her about that.

  His unselfishness touched her, too. He slept on an uncomfortable couch. He brought unfinished work home instead of staying late at the office, toiling on it long after the children went to bed. He never failed to take them to church.

  There was a lot to like about Clay.

  And if things were different…

  Shaking the aspirin into her palm with more force than necessary, Cate ruthlessly cut off that line of thought. Things weren’t different. There was no way anything could ever develop between them, no matter the chemistry. For two very good reasons, she reminded herself, as she downed the aspirin in one gulp and headed back to bed.

  First, a man like Clay could have his pick of women. He didn’t need to settle for one who was disabled.

  Second, even if by some remote chance he was attracted to her, he’d made it clear he had no interest in a serious, committed relationship.

  And as far as she was concerned, that was the only kind worth having.

  End of story.

  Chapter Four

  Cate heard Emily crying inside the apartment before she ever reached the landing, a close-to-hysterical wailing that knotted her stomach and set her adrenaline pumping.

  Taking the last two steps as quickly as she could given her aches and pains from yesterday’s fall, Cate crossed the landing, inserted her key in the lock and stepped inside.

  Chaos greeted her.

  The children were still in their pajamas. Emily was in Clay’s arms, quivering—and clinging to his neck with such fierceness he could hardly move his head. Josh was huddled into a ball in the corner of the sofa, legs pulled up, tears flowing down his pale, frightened face as he watched the tableau a few steps away.

  Clay didn’t look much better. He wore only a white T-shirt and jeans, his hair was uncombed and a full day’s growth of beard darkened his jaw. He was bouncing Emily gently in his arms, murmuring soothing words, but the face he turned toward her when she crossed the threshold was bewildered—and bordering on frantic.

  “I’m so glad you’re here!” Relief hoarsened his voice.

  “What happened?” Cate dropped her sweater on a chair and joined the troubled trio.

  “I have no idea. We were eating breakfast, I gave Emily a piece of toast and she freaked.” He had to raise his voice to be heard above the child’s weeping.

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “I don’t know. Ten minutes, maybe. I can’t calm her down.”

  Moving around Clay, Cate lifted a hand to stroke Emily’s tangled hair. One of the little girl’s cheeks was pressed against her uncle’s neck, and she’d bunched the cotton fabric of his T-shirt into her clenched fists. Her legs were locked around his torso, her cheeks were splotchy, and terror and anguish had glazed her eyes.

  “Emily, honey, it’s okay. Can you tell me what’s wrong? Does your tummy hurt?”

  No response. Cate wasn’t even sure her presence had registered in the child’s consciousness. She was lost in some fear-filled world of her own.

  “Clay, can you sit on the couch?”

  He did so in silence, perching on the edge of the seat cushion.

  Easing down beside Josh, Cate took the little boy’s cold hand. He needed attention, too, but her first priority had to be calming Emily. And perhaps Josh could give them a clue to the source of her distress.

  “Josh, would you like me to hold you?”

  The little boy responded by climbing into her lap. Cuddling his little body close, Cate stroked his f
ine blond hair.

  “Why is Emily c-crying?” Josh hiccupped the word, giving Cate a distraught look.

  “I don’t know, honey. I think something scared her.”

  “Maybe the t-toast.” He reached out a pudgy finger to touch Emily’s cheek, his eyelashes spiky with moisture. “Don’t cry, Em.”

  Clay shifted, homing in on the boy’s comment. “What about the toast, Josh?”

  “She burnt it.”

  From his baffled expression, it was obvious Clay had no idea why this was relevant, Cate deduced.

  “Is that a bad thing, Josh?” Cate kept her tone gentle as she wrapped the little boy in a soothing hug.

  “Yes. Our toaster at home d-didn’t work too good. Mommy got hurt a lot, and when she had to stay in bed Emily made us toast f-for breakfast. But it always burnt and the kitchen got stinky. Daddy d-didn’t like that.”

  Although Emily’s wails had quieted to a whimper, her grip on Clay’s neck hadn’t loosened.

  Cate began to get a glimmer of the reason for today’s meltdown. “What would happen then?” She stroked the back of Emily’s hand in a reassuring, rhythmic motion as she asked Josh the question. A shudder ran through the little girl, and Clay patted her back, rubbing his cheek against the top of her head.

  His lip quivering, Josh nestled closer to Cate. “He would open all the windows, even if it was really cold. And he’d m-make Emily stand on the b-back porch without her coat until the kitchen smelled better. There was a big, mean, scary d-dog that came to our alley s-sometimes, but no matter how h-hard Emily pounded on the d-door, Daddy wouldn’t let her back in. One time the d-dog tore her shirt.”

  Clay stiffened. Emily emitted a soft whimper, and Cate laid a warning hand on his arm.

  “Well, there are no bad dogs around here, so we can all relax.” She emphasized the last word, and Clay got the message. He managed to slacken his muscles, and Emily let out a slow, ragged breath.

  “Why did our daddy do that?” Confused, Josh stuck his thumb in his mouth and tipped his head back to study her.