He narrowed his eyes. “More likely, you wanted to make sure she survived the night.”
She jammed her hands on her khaki-clad hips, a perfect warrior pose, cheeks bright red, sparks of fury in her brownish-green eyes. “Okay, you want the brutal truth? I doubt you’re prepared to take care of a baby this young.”
“Ah, so you’re capable of honesty after all. Who would’ve guessed?”
“At least I’m not being nasty, judging you on something I know nothing about.”
Zeb stepped around the corner of the house to see what the commotion was about. Jake waved him off. He didn’t need the man asking questions about him and the new pediatrician.
Violet didn’t flinch at the interruption. Didn’t seem to care they had an audience. She glared at him, ready to battle it out.
He wouldn’t back down, either. “Abigail is fine. Check her out if you want.”
The offer knocked her back a step. With an irritated huff, she peeked at the baby. “I see you bought a carrier. And you appear to have it attached correctly.”
“I can read directions, you know.”
She worked her hands around the edges of the fabric, feeling for all Abigail’s body parts. “You seem to have her in a good position. She looks comfortable.”
Dr. Crenshaw was so close her hair brushed his chin again. Though he’d expect her to smell like a doctor’s office—of sick people and disinfectant—she actually smelled good, like flowers mixed with something fresh and clean.
When she looked up, her eyes met his and widened. The tiny flecks of light gold around her pupils made her look young, vulnerable.
But Violet Crenshaw was not some delicate creature. Hadn’t she just proven it by charging into his job site with both barrels loaded?
She cleared her throat and stepped away.
What had made her change from last night, when she’d been helpful? Was it all because he’d yelled to stop a collision and made Abigail cry? He stepped around Violet to head to the truck. “See you around, Doc.”
She looked annoyed that he’d cut her off. But he’d had enough. Tomorrow at church he would find someone else who could help him. Preferably someone who had experience with a colicky child. Someone who didn’t have gorgeous legs, who didn’t look at him all innocent and vulnerable, twisting his insides into a knot.
Thankfully, the pediatrician didn’t go to Jake’s church. If all went well with Abigail, he wouldn’t have to see Violet again before Remy returned.
* * *
What in the world am I doing?
Meddling.
But that wasn’t the whole truth. She was also there as the result of a nudge from her conscience...or maybe from God?
Violet drew in a slow, deep breath the way she usually did to calm and center herself before walking into the room of a new patient. Only today, instead of an exam room, she walked inside the Appleton Community Church.
She’d awakened early, worried about Abigail West and feeling that nudge. After her morning run, she decided maybe it was time to go back to church—to Jake’s church. She hadn’t attended regularly since high school. Had thought when she moved to Appleton six months ago that she might visit as a way to meet people. But instead, she’d spent her Sunday mornings either doing rounds at the hospital or relaxing and reading the newspaper, afraid God might not welcome her after she’d pushed Him away for so long.
Well, she hoped God would be okay with her returning. And hoped Jake would show up with Abigail so Violet could check on them.
After the way he got defensive yesterday when she asked about the baby, maybe it was time to suggest he find someone else who could offer advice, someone who could help him with child care. Possibly an older teenager or college student in the church or another parent. Surely someone in this congregation would be willing.
Yes, she was definitely meddling. Still, she wouldn’t rest until she knew Jake and Abigail were in good hands.
Violet stepped through the door into the back of the sanctuary. The space was small but beautiful. She stopped and admired the colorful stained glass windows depicting parts of the Bible, stories she’d read as a child each night as her mother or, more often, one of the nannies tucked her in.
Having arrived a bit early, Violet found the crowd was sparse. She’d hoped to run into someone she knew. Instead, she glanced around at strangers, her stomach a tense mass of nerves. She didn’t really know anyone well in Appleton, although she had met a few people when she attended the church’s fund-raising auction for the Food4Kids program back in the spring.
Violet had bid on and won a trip to a lake house that belonged to two local families. She was acquainted with the daughters of one of the owners. Darcy O’Malley worked in the hospital lab, and they had chatted a few times when Violet dropped by the lab on weekends. She’d later met Darcy’s sister, Chloe O’Malley, at her clothing boutique, Chloe’s Closet. Maybe one of them would show up for the service.
Violet scanned the sanctuary looking for Grace Hunt, a kind grandmotherly woman who had dropped by to welcome Violet to town when she’d moved in. Grace had invited Violet to the church on several occasions, so surely she would be here today.
At least Violet would know someone besides Jake.
“Hello. Welcome.” An elderly man in gray slacks, a navy blazer and a red striped tie approached with his hand extended. “I’m Ted Greer, pastor of the church. You’re the new pediatrician, aren’t you?”
Shaking his hand, she smiled. “Yes. Violet Crenshaw. I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to visit.”
His kind eyes warmed. “We’re glad you’re here now. Do you work on Sundays?”
“I’m usually on call. I should probably apologize ahead of time. I occasionally may have to leave in the middle of the service.”
“That’s no problem at all. We’d love to have you whenever possible. Maybe next week you can come an hour earlier and join us for Bible study and coffee, as well.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll consider it.” She wasn’t sure she was ready for that, though. Needed to meet a few people first.
“If you’ll pick up a brochure on the way out, you’ll see a listing of Sunday school classes and other small group meetings we have throughout the week. I hope you’ll visit around, find a place where you feel comfortable.”
“Ted?” someone called from the choir loft while tapping a microphone that appeared to be dead.
“Excuse me for running off,” Ted said. “I think they’re having trouble with the sound system. Again, welcome. We’re glad God brought you here today.” He patted her hand, reminding her of her grandfather, and then strode to the front of the church.
Her smile faltered. When she’d left her hometown so many years ago to go to college, severing contact with her parents, she’d hurt her grandfather. Though she’d remained close to him, she’d also disappointed him. On his deathbed, he’d told her he still prayed daily that she would forgive her parents and reconcile. He died having never seen that prayer answered.
And she still hadn’t found it in her heart to forgive them for refusing to help her keep her son, for forcing her to give him up for adoption. She hadn’t seen her parents since her granddad’s funeral, where she’d avoided extended conversation.
Pushing aside the painful memory and the guilt, she steered away from the center aisle and moved to the far left. She inched her way down to about the fourth row from the back and took a seat on the end. As church members entered, they came over to greet her. They were a friendly bunch, making her glad she’d come.
Trying