Babies should come with a manual. A legal contract would be even better.
Gage walked with Hudson through the kitchen and back into the living room, copying what he’d seen Emma do. But, instead of resting his head on Gage’s shoulder, Hudson arched back to study his new mode of transportation. The soft material of the navy blue footed pajamas Emma had changed him into stretched with the movement.
Hudson peered up with curious blue eyes. His hair held a hint of auburn, but mostly brown. His chubby fist grasped Gage’s shirt near his collar. He didn’t look tired. When Emma had been holding him, he had, but now?
Not even close.
“What are we going to do with each other?”
No answer. No smiles like Ruby had conjured.
Might as well lay him down and see what happened. Earlier today the crew at his house had set up a portable crib/playpen in his guest bedroom. Gage didn’t have a permanent crib yet, and he wouldn’t be needing one if things went according to plan.
He headed down the hall and into the bedroom, settling Hudson into the portable crib with his blanket and a stuffed elephant. Hudson stared as he backed away.
What now? Would he put himself to sleep?
Gage retreated to the master bedroom, giving his king-size bed a longing glance as he entered his bathroom. Could he risk sleeping in here tonight? What if Hudson cried and he couldn’t hear him? Maybe he should have put the portable crib in his room for the first night. Was it too late for that?
A wail sounded as he rinsed his toothbrush and deposited it back into the holder.
Guess that answered his worry about being too far away. Even someone hard of hearing wouldn’t be able to miss the tornado siren coming from across the hall.
He found Hudson twisted up with his blanket, as if he’d been rolling around and got stuck. Fat, sad tears rolled down the baby’s cheeks, which had turned splotchy.
Gage pulled him out of the mess, snagged the blanket and held it against Hudson’s back. What now? He walked into the living room. Hudson peered this way and that, probably looking for Emma. Or his dad. Or his nanny.
“I’m sorry you’re stuck with me, buddy. I’d be upset, too. Are you hungry? Or not tired? What’s going on?”
When did kids start talking? Hopefully, around nine months old, because Gage could use some answers from the tyke.
It might be worth trying to feed him. What could it hurt?
Gage somehow managed to make a bottle while holding Hudson, though numerous powder spills and drops of water lined the counter after the impressive feat.
He headed for the espresso leather recliner in the living room and sat. Hudson drank a little, then stared at him. Nibbled on the bottle a bit more. Emma had only fed him the hour before so he probably wasn’t hungry, but Gage wasn’t sure what else to do. He didn’t have a lot of baby-whispering options up the sleeve of his waffle shirt.
He gave up on the bottle, setting it on the floor next to the chair.
Hudson’s head rested in the crook of Gage’s arm. His eyes flooded. A whimper escaped, followed by a cry.
All day, Gage had held himself in check. Not allowing himself to reflect on what Hudson had been through. What he’d lost. First his mother. Now his dad. It was too much for a baby to contend with. That’s why Gage wanted to find him the perfect forever home, and fast. Hudson needed a mom and a dad. Ones who knew what they were doing. Who could give him the love he deserved and the family he needed.
“Your dad was my closest friend in law school.” Like a rusty engine, Hudson’s cry stuttered. “He was the kind of guy who would do anything for you.”
Somehow, he’d gained the baby’s rapt attention. And he wasn’t about to lose it and have him start crying again, so Gage kept talking. “When things went bad with Nicole, he was there for me. I’m not sure I was as there for him when your mom—” Gage swallowed. “When she went to heaven. I tried, but I just...didn’t know what I was doing.”
If only Zeke hadn’t attempted to outfly that storm, he’d be holding his son right now instead of an inept Gage.
Zeke had been rushing to get back from a meeting in Aspen. He’d had his pilot’s license for years and was meticulous about following protocol. That’s why the accident had come as such a shock. But he’d hurried through his preflight check in order to beat the weather and then encountered mechanical issues that could have been avoided.
Moisture coated Gage’s eyes, and he blinked to clear it away. If Hudson went to another home, would they keep Zeke’s memory alive for the boy?
He’d never thought about that before.
Hudson’s face contorted, and he howled again, adding some kicks of frustration. Gage understood the sentiment.
“There was this one time in school...”
Once again, Hudson paused to listen. Perhaps he was searching, hoping to hear his dad’s voice. Either way, Gage kept talking. He told Hudson about his dad. He started with their first year of law school, and by the time he was three stories in, the boy was asleep.
Long lashes rested against his plump cheeks, body limp in Gage’s arms. Sweet boy. Zeke and Leila had sure made a cute kid.
Gently, Gage eased the recliner footrest up. He didn’t want to move and wake Hudson, so he’d close his eyes and rest here for a minute.
And maybe when he woke up, his life would make sense again.
Why was her nose so cold? Had it frozen off her face?
Emma’s hand snaked up, rubbing the extremity. Like a sleeping limb, it buzzed, attempting to return from the land of glaciers. Had the heat kicked off in the cabin during the night?
She scrounged for her blankets, recognition of her whereabouts quickly registering when she latched onto her car’s steering wheel instead. A painful new kink in her neck made its presence known when she moved her seat to an upright position.
Emma scrambled for her phone. No messages or calls, so Gage and Hudson must be okay. And it was five in the morning.
Oops. The car was freezing, and so was she. She rubbed her arms through the sleeves of her down jacket. How could she have slept so long in such poor conditions?
“Birdie, I need you to start up nice and quiet now.” Emma tapped the dash of her Mini Cooper. When she’d purchased it, an I See Birds sticker had adorned the bumper. She’d since removed it, but the birding phrase had prompted her to choose the name.
The car’s engine, usually a gentle purr, roared. “Shh. Did you turn into a lion overnight? That’s enough noise out of you.” She kept her headlights off as she slowly eased down Gage’s drive. Emma had no desire to wake anyone up or notify Gage that she’d slept in front of his house for the last few hours.
When she got back to the cabin, Emma snuck inside quietly, attempting not to disturb her sister, Mackenzie, who slept in the other bedroom.
She climbed into bed, the warmth a comfort, but couldn’t shake the chill from her body. After about an hour of hoping sleep would come, she gave up and readied for the day. A hot shower and a cup of tea did wonders for bringing her back to normal temps. She dressed in a black T-shirt—Best Aunt Ever scrawled across it in white print—along with skinny jeans and a long, comfortable cardigan.
She was sitting at the small kitchen table, nursing a second cup of tea, eating toast and reading her morning devotions when Mackenzie came out of her room in pajama bottoms and an old T-shirt