Emily grabbed hold of the crib rails and worked her feet frantically, trying to scale the barrier between them. He saved her the trouble. Scooping her up into his arms, he grimaced a bit at the dampness clinging to her and said, “First things first, little girl. Let’s get you a fresh set of drawers.”
She laughed and talked to him while he changed her diaper and clumsily did up the snaps on a fresh pair of pajamas. The little built-in slippers about did him in. How was a man supposed to tuck squirmy little feet into the blasted things without having the toes of the jammies turned around toward her heels?
But when the mystery was finally solved and Emily was as fresh as she was going to get, he picked her up and carried her toward the kitchen. With the warm, solid weight of his daughter against his chest, Jeff determined that the rest of their day would pass uneventfully.
“Why isn’t he answering the phone?” Kelly muttered, then pulled the receiver away from her ear to glare at it, as if this were all the phone’s fault.
“Perhaps he’s busy, dear,” Sister Mary Angela offered.
“How long does it take to pick up the phone and say, ‘Can’t talk now’?” For heaven’s sake, she’d called him an hour and a half ago and everything was fine. Where could he be? Why would he have taken Emily anywhere? And how was she going to stand being at school for another hour without finding out how things were going?
“Apparently, longer than he’s got,” the nun mused, smiling at the other woman’s obvious case of nerves. “You did want Emily’s father to be a part of her life, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but—”
“And you do trust Jeff, don’t you?” Kelly blew out a breath. “Of course I do, Sister, it’s just that—”
“It’s just that you don’t want to share your daughter?”
A guilty flush stole over her. Was that it? Was she being jealous of Emily’s affections? No, Kelly thought. She refused to believe that. This was an honest-to-goodness, realistic worry. Her daughter was alone with her father for the first time, and he wasn’t answering the stupid phone!
“Sister Angela,” Kelly said, hanging up with another frosty look at the telephone, “Jeff’s never been around babies before and—”
“He’s an adult, Kelly. He’ll figure it out.” “You know,” Kelly said, a rueful grin curving her mouth, “you could let me get the whole complaint out of my mouth before shooting it down.” “No sense in wasting time, though, is there?” Sister Angela glanced at the wall clock in the school office. “Now, unless you want to try to bother your young man one more time, I’d suggest you rejoin your class. Recess is almost over.”
“Bother, huh?” Kelly asked as she headed for the door.
The school principal’s face took on the supremely patient expression she was famous for as she said, “He’s only going to be alone with Emily for four hours today, my dear. What could possibly go wrong in four miserably short hours?”
“What else can go wrong?” Jeff muttered, wiping up the flood of orange juice racing across the kitchen table. He’d never seen a kid spill so much. “Spill proof cups, my ass,” he muttered darkly as he tossed the small plastic cup into the sink. He hadn’t seen this much liquid since the last time he’d been sent overseas on flood relief.
He glanced at his daughter and wondered fleetingly how Kelly kept up with the child. Hell, it must be something God gave women that He didn’t give men. Just trying to ride herd on the little girl made him feel like he’d been on a ten-mile hike with a full pack. He was worn down to the ground. And he didn’t have to worry about doing the laundry. He’d already had to change the baby’s outfit three times in the past two hours.
But that wasn’t the half of it. She’d shoved a half-chewed teething cracker into the VCR, ripped her mother’s credit-card bill in half and chewed on the sports section of the newspaper.
And it wasn’t even noon yet.
Plus, the phone kept ringing off the hook, as if he had time to worry about that. Maybe he wasn’t cut out for this, he thought and found himself thinking fondly of slopping through a swamp with a half-dozen unfriendlies hot on his tail.
Then he glanced at Emily, and his doubts melted under the beam of that smile. She kicked her legs against the slats of her high chair, crowed delightedly and finished tossing banana slices across the room like tiny Frisbees. One of them hit him square in the forehead and while Emily giggled, Jeff sighed and wondered when it was exactly he’d lost control.
The first hour or so had been great. But things had pretty much gone downhill after that. Hell, maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. He’d never felt so damn useless in his life. Any other kind of situation, Jeff would be the man to jump in and take charge. But apparently, keeping a baby entertained was just a bit out of his reach.
“Recon, huh?” a deep voice from the back door asked.
Jeff swallowed the groan choking him and straightened up. Turning to face Kevin Rogan, he wondered just who in heaven or hell he’d ticked off lately. “Your point?” he asked.
Kevin stepped into the room, taking his Smokey Bear hat off and setting it on a relatively clean spot on the counter. “Thought you Recon guys were hot stuff.” He paused and glanced around the room. Dark brown eyebrows lifted into high arches as he whistled and shook his head. “Man, you should think about calling in air support. You’re outgunned.”
Though he’d been thinking the same thing himself only a moment ago, hearing this guy say it aloud really stuck in his craw. “I suppose you could do it better.”
“Hell,” Kevin said, folding his arms across his chest, “a blind monkey with both arms tied behind its back could do better.”
“Then you’re overqualified, aren’t you?” Jeff asked as he walked across the room to his daughter and lifted her out of the chair. Emily laughed and clapped both banana-mushed hands to his cheeks. He ignored it and walked back toward the drill inspector who was so sure of himself. “You talk a good game. Let’s see what a D.I. can do, huh?” “No problem,” the other man said, and reached out for his niece. Too late, he noticed the bananas now decorating the front of his uniform blouse. Jeff smiled. He felt better already.
Kelly parked the car in the driveway, noted her brother Kevin’s car at the curb out front, then hurried to the front door. Jeff and Kevin? Alone together? With only Emily to referee?
“Big mistake, Kelly,” she muttered as she slid the key into the lock and turned it. “You never should have agreed to this. You were just asking for troub—” Her voice trailed off as she opened the door.
Stunned into silence, she stepped into what looked like the aftereffects of a hurricane. Toys, diapers, jars of baby food were scattered all across the living room. And in the middle of the floor, his head resting on the belly of a teddy bear, was Kevin, in full uniform, sound asleep, still clutching Emily’s ring of plastic keys.
A soft snore caught her attention, and she shifted her gaze to the couch. Jeff lay stretched out atop the cushions, zonked out, with a sleeping Emily tucked against his chest. His arms were wrapped around her sturdy little body and she was sucking her thumb, clearly content in her daddy’s embrace.
Smiling to herself, Kelly leaned against the arched doorjamb and just enjoyed the view. Her daughter and the man she—what? Loved?
Her heart twisted in her chest, and a soft sigh escaped her. Oh man. Lust she could handle. But love? Love was something she hadn’t really counted on.
The next week slid past, with the three of them settling into a routine that was both comforting and a little scary for Kelly. One part of her loved the normalcy of it all. Of having Jeff there to help