Lost and Found Groom, McLinn, Patricia [ebook reader for pc and android .txt] 📗

waist. A sheen of sweat showed on Daniel’s forehead.

Kendra fed a much subdued Matthew lunch, while Daniel watched and listened to her comments about their routine as if he were learning brain surgery.

“More milk, Matthew?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. Down.”

“Okay. Cleanup first.” She wiped his hands and the moving target of his scrunched-up face, then unhooked him from the belt and pulled back the tray. She slanted a look at the man on the other side of the high chair. “You want to put him down?”

“Okay.”

For a moment he and Matthew eyed each other warily, with such identical expressions on their similar faces that Kendra felt as if she were watching a time-lapse photo.

“Ready to get down, buddy?”

Matthew was torn–he wanted to get down but part of the two-year-old’s creed was to say “no” as much as possible. He compromised by nodding.

Daniel wrapped his big hands around the child’s chest, gingerly lifting him from the chair and setting him on the ground as if he were glass. Kendra thought she detected a faint sigh of relief from Daniel as Matthew headed off.

“Now what?”

Matthew’s audible yawn made her smile as she answered, “There’s your answer. It’s nap time.”

“Thank God,” Daniel muttered under his breath.

Without her inviting or his asking, Daniel trailed behind as she gathered up Matthew and took him into his room. Daniel watched closely as she took off Matthew’s corduroy overalls, and laid him down on the changing table.

But when the diaper started to come off, Daniel developed a sudden interest in the row of pictures of Matthew at various ages atop the dresser.

“It’s safe, I’m done,” she said, letting a bit of taunt into her tone.

She regretted that when he turned. His dark eyes looked haunted. What had he thought as he’d studied those pictures of his son? That he’d never know those days? Or had he thought of other children?

“You want to put him down?” she asked softly.

“No! Mommy do!” demanded Matthew. That surprised her, since his refrain for the past few months had been “No, Mommy! Me do!”

She was also surprised at the flash of relief in Daniel’s eyes.

And she wanted to kick herself for that surprise, and the mist of disappointment that followed it. What had she expected?

She’d probably given him entirely too much credit a moment ago. Most likely what she’d interpreted as haunted was simply wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into once he’d caught a whiff of a diaper.

She cuddled Matthew, as if her arms around him and his face against her neck could protect him from every possible hurt from all corners of the world. Including from his father.

“Okay, sweetheart. Time to go to sleep.”

She nuzzled him a final time before laying him down. He grabbed the corner of his favorite blanket in a fist, and brought it to his mouth. Not quite sucking on it, but having it handy in case.

Matthew’s long, dark lashes swept down over his beautiful eyes, dropping once, then lifted quickly before drifting down again, slowly, slowly. She would never tire of watching her son’s slide into slumber.

Yet she was fully aware of Daniel beside her, of his shoulder not quite touching hers, of his hands resting lightly atop of the crib’s side, of his warmth and reality. And she felt a connection to him that she’d fought from the moment he’d said he’d come to find his son.

Our son.

She hadn’t said the words aloud yet.

Her son, still, of course. Now, too, his son. But also our son.

She turned and walked out, aware he followed her, half wishing he wouldn’t.

When they reached the hall, she heard him exhale.

“He’s even fast falling asleep.”

He sounded as if he were smiling.

“Some days that’s the only thing that lets me keep my sanity. I guess it’s because he expends so much energy.”

“Is this a typical day?”

“Pretty much. He’s active for his age from everything I hear and read. Marti says I walked late and talked early, so he must be taking after you in this.”

Her probe hadn’t been particularly subtle, and neither was his heavy and deliberate silence.

Halfway across the living room, she squared off to him. “You said I should ask my questions. You said you’d answer–”

“You’re right. I did. But I can’t help you with this one, because I have no idea when I walked or when I talked.”

“You could ask your–”

He turned abruptly, heading toward the back door, with her following. “I’ve gotta go make a phone call before Washington closes up.”

“Wait just a minute, Daniel Delligatti. You said–”

“I said I wanted a tour. But you can’t do that with Matthew napping,” he said, as if he didn’t know perfectly well that was not the objection she’d started. “Can you get Marti or Ellyn to take care of him for a while tomorrow morning?”

“I’m working tomorrow morning, and that’s not the point, anywa–”

“Okay, tomorrow afternoon. Tell you what–I’ll bring lunch. Noon?”

“I won’t be home till after one, but I don’t–”

“See you then.”

And he was gone as completely and inexplicably as he’d disappeared that night outside the consulate. Back into the shadows.

Except this time he didn’t leave without a word. This time he’d promised to be back tomorrow. So, tomorrow she’d make sure she got answers.

*

Daniel drove beyond Far Hills land before pulling off the side of the road and putting his head back.

He wasn’t going to sleep. It wasn’t that kind of exhaustion. But no kind of exhaustion was an excuse for his bungling this afternoon.

Did he think his clumsy efforts to avoid Kendra’s questions would hold her off indefinitely? Not damned likely. If anything, it would make her more determined. He’d known that even as he’d scrambled to get the hell away.

But by tomorrow, he’d have himself in hand. By tomorrow, he’d be prepared for Kendra’s questions.

Would he ever be prepared to be a father?

He knew about stealing aid back from crooked officials without rattling a window. He knew about landing on mud ruts. He knew about giving desperate kids enough to keep