An Unexpected Arrangement Page 12

  “Oh, good.” Grandma sighed. “I called your mom, but she didn’t answer.”

  “She mentioned she was going to Denver today.” Laramie fumbled in her purse for her keys. “Dad’s probably out in the field somewhere on the tractor.”

  “I called him, but he didn’t answer, either.”

  “Okay, let me hang up so I can drive. I’ll see you soon.”

  “Thank you, hon. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Me, either. Laramie ended the call. She hesitated beside her car and quickly texted Jack an explanation. Guilt knifed at her as she hit Send. Abandoning her post felt so traitorous. She’d never leave school in the middle of the day without permission from her principal.

  But this was different. Her family needed her. And she wasn’t leaving the twins unsupervised. They were both still asleep and Jack could handle the babies on his own this afternoon. He was their father, after all. Situations like this emphasized the reasons why she couldn’t move away. She couldn’t stand the thought of being several hours from home knowing her grandparents didn’t have the kind of help they needed. After all, if she wasn’t here, who would her grandmother rely on?

  * * *

  The crying grew louder.

  Jack narrowed his gaze and tried to focus on the data filling his computer screen. His stomach growled, reminding him that he’d worked through lunch, but he just needed a few more minutes before he could take a break.

  Except Macey and Charlotte were making it extremely difficult to focus. He raked his hand through his hair and scanned the update from his project manager again. Laramie was probably fixing the bottles before she changed their diapers. In the past few weeks, Laramie had established a process for caring for the girls. And he wasn’t about to question or criticize. He certainly didn’t have a better approach. Except it seemed like the babies had been crying for longer than normal.

  The muffled sound of someone knocking pulled his attention from his computer.

  His brain was still humming from the phone interview he’d finished earlier. The job in Utah offered everything he was looking for.

  The crying coming from the twins’ bedroom echoed through the whole house.

  He’d meant to check in with Laramie after his interview, but one of his project managers had called and pulled him into a long conversation about an issue with a client in Kansas City.

  The knocking grew louder while Macey and Charlotte kept crying. Man, what was going on with Laramie? She never let the babies cry this long. Jack pushed back his chair and stood, massaging his forehead with his fingertips. The dull pain that had started a few minutes ago was morphing into an intense headache.

  He grabbed his phone from his desk as he crossed his office. Two missed texts. The first was from Miranda, the social worker who’d brought Macey and Charlotte to him. She’d sent a message forty-five minutes ago, stating she was in the area and planned to stop by. His heart hammered. Was that who it was at the door?

  Jack strode into the kitchen. “Laramie?”

  She didn’t answer. And the twins were not in their high chairs waiting for their lunch like he’d expected. Jack craned his neck to see out the window over the sink. Laramie’s car was gone, and Miranda’s SUV was parked in his driveway.

  Panic welled. Macey and Charlotte were wailing now. This time the doorbell rang. Miranda could probably hear the crying. She must think he was completely inept.

  Jack glanced at the next message on his phone. It was from Laramie.

  My grandparents are having an emergency. Hopefully I’ll be back later. Sorry.

  “Hopefully you’ll be back later?” Jack scoffed and tossed his phone onto the counter. He hated that her grandparents were struggling, but she was supposed to be helping him. They had an agreement. She couldn’t just run off and leave. How long had she been gone, anyway?

  He reached over and turned off the volume on the baby monitor. Macey and Charlotte’s cries still echoed through the whole house, but at least they weren’t amplified through the speaker on the kitchen counter.

  Jack was paralyzed with indecision. Answer the door and invite Miranda into this chaos? Then she’d have a front row seat to his inability to care for the girls on his own. Or should he pick the twins up and comfort them, then answer the door so it at least looked like he was trying?

  The crying was too much. He couldn’t handle answering the door while the twins sobbed in their room, alone.

  “Hang on a second!” He called over his shoulder, then jogged back down the hall to the girls’ bedroom. He pushed open the door. Macey and Charlotte sat beside each other, sobbing, their little hands gripping the rails of their new crib.

  “Oh no.” Jack’s chest ached at their flushed faces and the tears glistening on their cheeks. “Shhh, it’s okay. Daddy’s here now.”

  He carefully picked Macey up and then Charlotte. Their diapers had leaked through their outfits. He quickly glanced around their room. No diapers. Seriously? His pulse sped. He’d figure out what to do about that in a few minutes. He couldn’t keep Miranda waiting on the porch much longer.

  The babies kept crying as he strode through the house, nearly tripping over a discarded toy in the living room. Why couldn’t Laramie have picked another day to rescue her grandparents? He needed her here. Now.

  Somehow, he managed to force a smile and open the door while holding Macey and Charlotte. “Hi, Miranda. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

  “Hello, Jack.” Miranda’s expression softened as her gaze flitted between the babies. “How are your girls doing?”

  He hesitated. “I know it looks and smells pretty bad, but things aren’t always like this.”

  “Oh?”

  “My nanny, Laramie, is usually here. She had to deal with a family emergency, so I’m flying solo.” He raised his voice to be heard over the crying but that only made Charlotte and Macey cry louder. Man, this was getting worse by the second.

  “May I come in?” Miranda shifted her bag to the other shoulder. “I’d be glad to hold one of the babies while you catch your breath.”

  “Uh, sure.” Sweat dampened his skin and his head felt like it might explode. He stepped back to let Miranda inside, then carefully passed Charlotte to her. “I’m sorry, she smells terrible. I’m, uh, trying to do something about that.”

  “Come here, sweetheart.” Miranda gently braced Charlotte against her shoulder. “Shhh, it’s going to be all right.”

  Was it? Jack wished he had a fraction of Miranda’s confidence. And did that mean she wasn’t alarmed by the chaos unfolding in his home?

  C’mon, Laramie. I need you. He couldn’t handle a diaper crisis and lunch with Miranda hovering over his shoulder. She’d figure out in about two seconds that he shouldn’t be responsible for two babies. Fear latched icy tentacles around his heart. What would happen to Charlotte and Macey if he was deemed unfit to parent?

  * * *

  Laramie parked in front of Jack’s house, grabbed her purse then exited her car. What a day. Grandma’s appointment had taken much longer than expected and Landon never had showed up. She’d enjoyed spending time with her Grandpa, especially since he was having a good day.

  Except Jack had texted her three times asking when she’d be back. Her flip-flops slapped against her feet as she hurried toward his porch. Jack was clearly annoyed. And she’d felt bad for leaving him with the girls when he was trying to work. Until her grandfather had taken a fall, scaring her half to death and confirming she’d made the right decision to stay with him.

  Thankfully, he’d only cut his forehead. She’d left him resting comfortably with her grandmother, then texted her parents and told them what happened. They needed to find a safer place for Grandpa to live as soon as possible.

  She stepped inside and quietly closed the door. The sound of a baby toy playing a nursery rhyme and the girls babbling gree
ted her. Laramie hesitated, then kicked off her flip-flops and walked into Jack’s living room.

  He sat on the sofa, his computer on his lap, fingers clicking over the keys. His lips were pressed into a flat line and he didn’t speak to her.

  All righty, then.

  Charlotte sat near Jack’s feet, pressing the button that played the familiar tune on repeat. Macey was riding in the baby swing by the window and she squealed when she saw Laramie.

  “Hey, everybody.” Laramie forced a smile and injected enthusiasm into her voice. “How’s it going?”

  “Fine.” Jack didn’t bother to look up. “Nice of you to join us.”

  Ouch. She fidgeted with the buckle on her purse. “I had to help my grandparents. They were having an emergency.”

  A muscle in his jaw twitched.

  Boy, he was oozing empathy.

  Charlotte crawled toward her. “Buh-buh-buh.”

  Laramie bit back a snide comment and focused on Charlotte. “Hi, cutie pie. What are you playing with?”

  The baby offered a slobbery grin, then stretched her arms high. Laramie’s heart squeezed. At least someone around here was happy to see her. She scooped Charlotte into her arms and pressed a kiss to her chubby cheek.

  “Miranda made a surprise visit.” Jack raked his fingers through his hair. “Thankfully, she didn’t revoke my parental rights.”

  Laramie froze. “I didn’t know a social worker had that kind of power.”

  Jack glared at her. “The girls were crying for a long time because I didn’t know you weren’t here. When Miranda came in, Charlotte and Macey had dirty diapers, they wouldn’t stop crying and they were beyond hungry. I looked totally incompetent.”

  Oh no. She swallowed hard. “I—I’m sorry. I thought you’d be fine for an hour or two.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t. We weren’t.” Jack shifted his attention back to his computer. “I couldn’t find another babysitter on short notice. You were gone for four hours, by the way.”

  Like a bolt of lightning striking the fields outside, his words sent anger zinging through her. Laramie breathed deep, hoping the lingering scent of Charlotte’s baby shampoo might help her calm down. Why was he being so feisty? “I guess you’ll have to dock my pay.”

  Rat-a-tat-tat. Did he always take out his frustration on his keyboard? “A conversation before you left would’ve been helpful.”

  “I didn’t have the luxury of a conversation, Jack. You were on the phone and my grandmother needed me.”

  “Here’s the thing—I needed you. The girls needed you.” His icy gaze bore into her. “We had an agreement, Laramie.”

  “I said I was sorry.” She perched Charlotte on her other hip and met his gaze. “And by the way, I do believe I rearranged my entire life to help you out. A little gratitude would be nice.”

  He stared at her, disbelief flashing across his features. “Thanks. Thanks for everything. You’ve made it clear where your priorities lie.”

  “You don’t sound grateful. And what do you mean by my priorities?” Her voice was getting dangerously close to yelling. Macey and Charlotte were giving her wide-eyed stares, but she wasn’t going to let him shame her for doing the right thing. “Why are you so mad that I chose to help my elderly grandparents and left you home alone with your own children?”

  “Because you always choose your family.” He set his laptop down and stood. “I’m going to the store. We’re out of diapers.” He brushed past her, grabbed his keys and left, slamming the door behind him.

  Hot tears pricked her eyelids. She stared after him, while Charlotte fussed and gnawed on her fist. How could he be so self-absorbed? And why was she so surprised that he’d reverted to his same old juvenile behavior—leaving when conflict arrived?

  Chapter Eleven

  Today was the day. He couldn’t avoid it any longer. Jack stood in his backyard, hands on his hips, and stared at the woodshop’s closed door. While the girls napped, he was going to sort through Dad and Uncle Kenny’s tools.

  The relentless afternoon sun heated his skin. The harsh words he’d said in his final exchange with Dad echoed in his head. Words he could never take back.

  I’m nothing like you and I never want to be!

  His father had died thinking Jack was ashamed of the family business, but nothing could be further from the truth.

  Some of his best memories had happened in this shed. Jack had hung out with Uncle Kenny and Dad whenever he could. The old radio in the corner played classic rock music while his uncle and his father both sang off-key. Uncle Kenny never passed up an opportunity to tell a corny joke, and the man was a master when it came to turning slabs of wood into furniture.

  From his father and his uncle, Jack had learned the value of making something practical with his hands. Uncle Kenny took great pride in his work, knowing a table or a dresser he’d made might stay in a family for generations.

  But then Uncle Kenny had accused Dad of ripping him off, which Jack’s father denied, and they’d stopped speaking. It wasn’t long before the unthinkable happened, leaving Aunt Willa to raise a rebellious, teenage McKenna by herself. That was when Jack had decided he wanted nothing to do with a business that decimated their family.

  Bracing for the hurt, Jack forced himself to approach the building. He glanced at the portable baby monitor clipped to his jeans. Maybe the girls would wake up and save him from this painful trip down memory lane.

  Nope. Macey and Charlotte were both sound asleep. Besides, he’d asked Drew to help him pack up the tools and figure out what to sell. And what to keep, if anything. Jack hesitated, then unlocked the door and pushed it open. The familiar scent of sawdust mixed with varnish filled his senses and unleashed an onslaught of more memories. His father’s hands, strong and calloused, teaching him to use the level, and his uncle’s tender care after Jack pinched his finger in a vise grip.

  Sucking in a breath, he reached in and flipped the light switch. The bare bulbs hanging over Uncle Kenny’s workbench flickered on, illuminating a partially finished dining table. Emotion tightened Jack’s throat. Had they really abandoned his uncle’s last project? He ran his hands over the smoothly sanded surface. What a shame. He stepped farther inside and surveyed the rest of the woodshop’s contents. Tools, hunks of wood, the old dust-covered radio. An empty soda can on a step stool. If Jack didn’t know any better, he’d think Uncle Kenny or his father were coming right back. Sadly, that wasn’t the case. He’d lost them both all too soon.

  And it had been his fault his father had died. Guilt and grief crashed into him as the memory of their last day together flashed before his eyes. The devastated look on his father’s face before Jack stomped out.

  A car door slammed and pulled Jack from his stupor. Wiping a tear, he turned and glanced toward the house. Drew strode toward him in his deputy sheriff’s uniform. His steps faltered when he saw Jack standing inside.

  “Whoa.” Drew’s eyes widened. “You said you wanted to clean out the place, but I didn’t think you meant it.”

  Jack bristled at his brother’s comment. “This is good stuff. Somebody could use the tools. Better than letting everything rust.”

  Drew was silent. Jack waited for the inevitable comment about how he was that somebody. Instead, Drew rattled the ice in his to-go cup, then took a long sip.

  Jack tugged his phone from his pocket and opened an app on his phone. He’d make a list of all the tools, then research online for the resale value.

  “How was your holiday?” Drew ran his hand along the arm of a rocking chair. “Enjoy the fireworks?”

  Jack winced at the double meaning threaded through his brother’s words and examined one of the chisels on the workbench.

  “Uh-oh.” Drew studied him. “What happened?”

  “We had a great time at the parade and the fireworks were incredible.” Thoughts of the kiss he’d
shared with Laramie resurfaced. Again. “Until she said kissing me was a mistake and left with her parents.”

  He left out the part about the harsh words they’d exchanged when she’d come back from helping her grandparents. He wasn’t interested in his brother’s unsolicited advice about that, either. Drew’s radio crackled and he paused to listen, then adjusted the volume.

  “I know, I know.” Jack set the chisel down and took a picture with his phone. “You don’t have to say it.”

  “Say what?”

  “That Laramie will never fall in love with a guy like me and I was stupid to even try.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “I should’ve taken over the furniture business like Dad wanted me to. Then we wouldn’t have had a huge fight before he died. Maybe—”

  “Wait. What?”

  “You don’t have to pretend.” Jack shoved his phone back in his pocket, then glared at Drew. “I take full responsibility for our nasty confrontation. It’s no secret that you all blame me for his death.”

  Drew rubbed his fingers along his jaw and stared at Jack. “There’s so much wrong with what you just said that I don’t even know where to begin.”

  Jack’s scalp prickled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Look, knock it off with the whole victim thing. Nobody blames you for anything. We’re all getting on with our lives, including Mom and Aunt Willa. McKenna is almost finished with college, and Connor has two parents who love him. Stop letting your regrets about the past hold you hostage.”

  “My past isn’t holding me hostage.”

  “Really.” Drew’s gaze narrowed. “Is that why you’re giving up?”

  Jack crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not giving up.”

  “You’re cleaning out the shop even though you probably have more talent for woodworking in one arm than our father ever had. Now you’re telling me you finally kissed Laramie but that didn’t go like you’d hoped, so you’re not going to pursue a relationship, and last I heard, you’re planning on leaving town.” Drew shrugged. “Sounds to me like you’re giving up and running away, bro.”