That wasn’t exactly true. He seemed like an open book, but she had a feeling she had only scratched the surface when it came to understanding James Kavanagh.
“Are you still looking for your father’s remains?”
“Where the hell did that come from?” Anger flashed in his gaze, warning her to tread lightly. But surely this was the key. Something about a son without a father and James’s insistence on having children. It wasn’t the kind of thing most guys who were barely thirty fixated on.
She handed Sybbie a small bite of banana. “When you and I were together, you spent a lot of weekends out in the woods. Searching. And every time you came home, I got the feeling you were upset. But I was always afraid to ask you.”
“Afraid? Of me?”
“I’m talking about your state of mind. When you came to pick me up for dates and you had been out on the mountain, I sensed a wildness in you, as if you were barely under control. Am I wrong?”
“I don’t want to talk about my father.” His tone said back off.
“I never knew my father either, James, not really. It’s a sad way to grow up. But at least you have a fabulous mother...and all your siblings.”
“If you think I’m fixated on a bastard who deserted his family, you couldn’t be more wrong.”
She inhaled sharply. James spoke as if the wound was fresh. When in fact, it had happened almost three decades ago. “He didn’t desert you.”
“Of course he did.” His raised voice upset Sybbie. “Sorry, munchkin.” He stood abruptly, part of his meal uneaten. “I need a shower. After that, I’ll probably hit the hay early. Do you and the kid need anything?”
It was barely seven thirty. Obviously, this was his way of telling her he wanted to be alone. That she and Sybbie weren’t there to socialize with him. “We’re fine,” Lila said. “I’ll call the pest control people first thing in the morning. I would never have asked you to get involved if I had known this would be the outcome.”
“Think of it as a blessing in disguise. If I hadn’t started the renovation, you might not have known about the termites until they had done catastrophic damage. Good night, Lila.”
When he strode out of the room, she stared at Sybbie, who played with a pile of Cheerios, unfazed by the tension between the adults. “Well, kiddo. I guess it’s just you and me.”
Lila tidied up the kitchen and cleaned the baby’s sticky hands. After that, she took Sybbie into the guest room and sat on the bed with her reading a stack of board books she had ordered from Amazon the morning she realized she was going to become a temporary mom.
Sybbie sat between Lila’s legs, her soft, sweet-smelling body tucked in Lila’s embrace with simple trust. The future was a scary void. What were they going to do? How could they be a family?
Today during naptime, Lila had begun ticking off a list of calls: her coworkers at the bank, women in her yoga class, friends she had made since she had moved to Silver Glen. Every conversation left her more and more despondent. Apparently, good nannies were very hard to find.
Not only that, but they were expensive. Obviously, if you wanted to hire a young woman with credentials, you couldn’t pay teenage babysitter wages. Money aside, it might take several months to locate such a person. Lila didn’t have that much time.
She had to be at the bank come Monday. Quitting wasn’t an option, because then she wouldn’t be able to support herself and a child. The only alternative was to cobble together some part-time sitters until she could make a permanent decision about whether or not to keep Sybbie.
Truthfully, she already knew how things were going to play out. This precious, chubby infant shared her DNA. In only a few days, Lila had fallen in love with her. But maybe Sybbie deserved better. Lila wasn’t the nurturing type. She worked long hours. And at the very heart of the matter, she was scared—scared to be responsible for someone so tiny and vulnerable.
By the time she had bathed the baby and put her in a fresh diaper and pj’s, Sybbie was drooping. Lila laid her down in the crib and turned off the light. “Good night, sweet pea.” The baby was already turning onto her tummy and curling into her favorite sleeping position.
Lila closed the door quietly and stood in the middle of her bedroom. She was accustomed to being on her own. Ever since she went off to college, she’d had no one to depend upon but herself. She rarely saw her mother, mostly because her mother made it clear that she didn’t want Lila around.
Maybe Lila had made a pest of herself by offering to pay for rehab one too many times. Her mom didn’t want to be helped. She didn’t think she had a problem, even though at the recent funeral she had been so drunk or medicated or both that she was barely able to stand.
Back when James and Lila had been going out, there was a time when Lila fantasized about becoming a Kavanagh. Not only because James was smart and funny and seriously hot...but because the thought of belonging to the large, tight-knit family made her yearn for something she had never experienced. She didn’t know what it was like to always know that someone had your back...that in a crisis you didn’t have to face things alone.
Suddenly, a wave of panic swamped her. She had to get out of this house. Grabbing a jacket and the baby monitor, she slipped out the back door. The range on the small electronic device wasn’t extensive, but she would go as far as she could and still see the baby.
First, she slipped next door to her own house and surveyed the mess James had made. Her tidy dining room was gone. James had moved the table into the guest quarters that would eventually be Lila’s downstairs bedroom.
Everything was coated in a fine film of dust.
How was she going to manage? She didn’t know anything about being a parent. Moms were supposed to bake cookies and sew Halloween costumes and host sleepovers. Lila was happiest in a room alone with paper and figures and tasks that she had the skills to do well.
She was exhausted and grieving for her sister and, at the heart of it all, bruised in spirit. Bruised because the one man she had ever really felt deeply about didn’t want a woman like her.
The tears, when they came, took her by surprise. But instead of choking them back, she gave in to the barrage of pain and sorrow and fear. She’d been leaning against a wall. Now she slid to the floor and buried her head on her knees, sobbing until her chest hurt.
James heard the back door open and shut. He watched from the upstairs bedroom window as Lila slipped across the side yard like a shadow. What the heck was she doing?
Don’t follow her. His gut was smarter than he was. He needed to keep his distance. Lila wasn’t his problem.
Five minutes later he cursed beneath his breath and went after his reluctant houseguest. He found her sitting on the dusty dining room floor, crying as if her heart was broken. His reaction stunned him. All he wanted to do was pick her up and carry her home and make love to her until she understood that everything was going to be okay.
Instead, he kept his distance and cleared his throat. Her head snapped up immediately. “James. What are you doing here? I have the monitor with me. I wouldn’t neglect the baby.”
Her face was blotched with tears, her nose red and her eyes puffy. “I know that, Lila.” She seemed so small and lost and alone. But he knew she was strong and confident and well respected by her peers at the bank. The president had hired her on the day she interviewed for the job. “Maybe it would help to talk about it,” he said quietly. “To a neutral third party.”
He wasn’t neutral about Lila. Probably never would be. The fact that he still cared about her made him a decent