She had mentioned being recently divorced. She was probably spinning her wheels, passing time, till she decided what direction she wanted to go in her life.
It saddened him to see someone in her situation, especially with a child, and wondered where her ex-husband was and whether he kept in touch to see his boy. God knows, if he’d had one with Gina, he would never have relinquished his rights as a father. Maybe some men could just walk away and never look back, but not him. And he didn’t like to think it was only because he couldn’t have a child of his own when he wanted one so badly. It was just the right thing for a man to do.
He parked the beach buggy next to an empty cottage that had recently been painted and a new air conditioner installed. While Carlee was getting Scotty out of her car, Nick went inside to make sure everything was as it should be. The same migrants returned year after year because the facilities and pay were the best to be had in the citrus-picking industry. They appreciated that fact and took care of things, so there was little maintenance to be done off-season. But some of the buildings were getting old, and refurbishment was needed.
He walked through the cottage and by the time he returned to the porch, Carlee was coming up the steps. “There’s a slight smell of paint left, but I opened all the windows to let some fresh air in. Come on, I’ll give you a tour.”
Again he held out his arms to Scotty, who went to him eagerly.
Carlee pasted on a smile as though pleased he was so fond of her child.
“It’s small but comfortable,” Nick said as they stood in the tiny living room. There was a sofa that folded out into a bed, an upholstered chair and a television with rabbit ears. “The reception is pretty good from Orlando. I wish we had cable back here, but it would be too expensive, and nobody really has time to watch TV when we’re working the regular season.”
He led her through the other rooms. The kitchen had a table and four chairs, a small refrigerator and stove. There were twin beds and a dresser in one bedroom, and a double bed and chest in the other. “I can have the furniture moved out of the one where you want to set up Scotty’s crib.”
“He doesn’t have a crib. Just a portable one, and it’s small. It can go next to my bed.”
“Well, we can get him a crib. Someone left one behind last season and—”
“No. Don’t trouble yourself. We won’t be here but a few months. We can get by. But thanks, again.”
“Well, okay, it’s up to you. I’ll go get your things.”
Again she was quick to protest. “I’d rather do it myself, really. I packed the car and know where everything is.”
“If you’re sure…”
She nodded. “I’m sure.”
He did not insist. Her puzzling wariness had returned. Maybe she was uncomfortable accepting help from her employer.
He left her after saying he’d stop by later to see if she needed anything. That was met with yet another wooden thanks-but-no-thanks.
As he drove back to the office, Nick decided maybe Carlee Denton was just an independent sort, determined to make it on her own and didn’t want anything smacking of pity or charity. After all, she hadn’t wanted to accept the teddy bear as a gift for Scotty.
Scotty.
Nick really liked that little boy, even though holding him, feeling his chubby little arms around his neck, made him sad to think that he’d never have a son of his own. But maybe one day, with the right woman, he could adopt, and—
Forget it, a voice within warned. You’ve been there, done that. And the bad memories are like a souvenir T-shirt wrapped around your heart.
“Well, how did she like the cottage?” Elaine asked when he walked into the office.
“She seemed to like it. She didn’t have much to say. I think she’s tired. The little boy’s sure cute. How’s the day care doing, by the way?”
“I think there’s six children there now, enough to keep it operating.”
He gave her an incredulous look. “We’d have to keep it open even if there was only one child, Elaine. Migrants know they can always depend on having good care for their children here.”
“I know. It just seems expensive sometimes during Valencia season when there aren’t many here.”
“Well, regardless, we’re keeping it open. Anything important in the mail?”
“No, but the Sheriff’s Department in Brevard County finally got around to sending back your wallet and credit cards they retrieved from the guy who stole them.” She handed him a large brown envelope.
Amazed at how long it had taken, he dumped the contents on the desk. There wasn’t much. Just the wallet, his driver’s license and a couple of credit cards. Things he had replaced right after the theft.
Elaine said, “There’s also a letter apologizing for the delay. How long has it been? Two years?”
“Almost. I was at that Growers’ Association meeting in Cocoa Beach they have every year in June.” He frowned to remember. “The guy that picked my pocket sure had a good time using my credit cards till I could get all the companies notified and put a stop to it.”
Elaine nodded to recall. “It was sad what happened to him, though.”
Nick put everything back in the envelope. “Yes, it was.”
He went into his office and tossed the envelope on top of a file cabinet. He had some paperwork to catch up on and then later he wanted to make sure Carlee had settled in all right. Maybe if Scotty wasn’t napping, she would let him take him down to the lake to see the ducks.
And even though every instinct told him to back off, Nick knew he also wanted to see Carlee again.
Chapter Four
Carlee braked to a stop in front of the day-care center. She had overslept and was running late. Nick had said they started work at 6 a.m., and it was almost that now.
A young woman who looked to be the same age as Carlee saw her from a window and was waiting when she carried Scotty to the door.
“Hi, I’m Becky Ivy. You have to be Carlee Denton, and you—” she caught Scotty’s little hand and kissed it “—must be Scotty. I am so glad to meet you and your mommy.”
“And we’re both happy to meet you, Becky.” Carlee followed her inside and looked about. It was a very nice room, decorated in blue, white and yellow with cheery animal-print curtains hanging at the windows. There were little tables and chairs, playpens and cribs, and sleeping pallets stacked in a corner awaiting nap times. Toys of every description and suitable for different age groups were arranged neatly on shelves or spilling out of wooden chests.
Becky explained, “We have a kitchen where we prepare snacks and lunches, two bathrooms, and two small rooms in case a child is sick and needs extra attention. I have a girl who comes in around lunchtime to help me. We don’t have a full house now, as you can see.” She indicated two boys and a girl playing in a corner. They looked to be about two or three. “If we did, there would be an attendant for every five children. Mr. Starke’s rules.”
Carlee was satisfied that the facilities were as nice as she’d expected. She also liked Becky. She was neatly dressed in Bermuda shorts, a crisp white blouse and a blue smock appliquéd with dancing bunnies. She was friendly, cheerful and seemed very mature and capable.
As if she could tell Carlee was sizing her up, Becky volunteered, “I’m a licensed practical nurse, and I studied child development at Florida State for a few years before deciding to go into nursing. Only, I found once I had my license,