Father to Be (19 page)

Without waiting for a response, the woman went on. “How are the Brown children?”

“As well as can be expected, under the circumstances. They’re in a good home.”

“Oh, the best. J.D. is exactly what they need. You couldn’t ask for a better father for those children.”

She’d done just that, Kelsey remembered. How odd that of the whole long list of preapproved foster parents, there’d been no one else to take the kids. Even in the city, with its much bigger problems, she’d never failed to find a temporary placement. “Everyone certainly sings his praises,” she remarked dryly.

The look the woman gave her was steady and one hundred percent assured, as if she knew these things for a carved-in-stone fact. “He’s a good man. Those children couldn’t find anyone better.” Then she smiled. “
You
won’t find anyone better.”

Ah, so she was another of Bethlehem’s unofficial matchmakers. Was there a single soul in town who didn’t see them as a perfect couple? Was there no one else who understood the concepts of impropriety or unprofessional behavior? Not that it really mattered. As long as she and J.D. understood and kept their distance.

Something easier said than done, she feared.

From the cupola above, the church bell tolled and the woman popped to her feet. “Ah, the service is over and the doors will be opening.” She smiled brightly as both heavy doors were pushed back and propped open. “It’s been a pleasure talking to you, Kelsey. If there’s ever anything
you need from me, I’m always around. Just give me a call.”

Calculating her chances at getting away unnoticed now that the parishioners were spilling out, Kelsey needed a moment to process the last comment. “Give you a call? I don’t even know your—” Turning, she saw that she was talking to herself.

Ducking her head, she started for her car, parked in the shade of an old oak down the street. She wasn’t even halfway there, when just the voice she hadn’t wanted to hear spoke from a few feet behind.

“Well, well, I thought I felt the church walls tremble. I assumed it was just the aftershock from getting Caleb and Gracie through the doors earlier.”

Kelsey drew a deep breath, pasted on a smile, then turned and looked up. “I’m not such a sinner that God would be shocked to see me.”

“Just seriously surprised, huh?” J.D. stopped too, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

She let her gaze slide over him, from head to toe and back again, making note of his fine creamy-hued suit, the blindingly white shirt, the richly patterned silk tie. “You told me you had one summer suit and one for winter. This is
not
the same summer suit you were wearing last Sunday. You lied.”

“I didn’t lie. I do have one summer and one winter suit. I also have other summer and winter suits.” He grinned. “I wasn’t aware you were so interested in my wardrobe. Let me ditch the kids for a while, and I’ll give you a tour of my closet.”

She resisted the smile that tugged at her lips. “I believe I’ll pass. Where are the kids?”

He gestured toward the crowd gathered in front of the church. “Jacob and Noah are talking to Josie Dalton. Caleb
is ignoring Alanna Dalton, and Gracie is probably behind a bush somewhere stripping down to her skivvies.”

“And be
naked
?” She mimicked Gracie’s scandalized tone of Thursday night. “Surely not.”

“You haven’t seen her church dress. Picture the frilliest, fanciest dress ever seen outside a kiddie beauty pageant, complete with stockings and dress shoes. She
wailed
while Caleb was dressing her.”

Kelsey smiled. “Why didn’t you just let her wear one of her sundresses?”

“They’re dirty. Everything’s dirty except her old clothes.” The amusement faded from his voice. “Having new clothes all her own has been quite a novelty for her. She changes as much as three times a day.”

Just a few days earlier Kelsey had been envying Holly McBride’s clothes. While she couldn’t afford designer garments like that, at least she’d always had her own clothes. She found it difficult to imagine that Gracie could reach the age of five without ever having a single new garment bought specifically for her, though she knew that it happened all too often.

“You know, we normally give vouchers to cover the cost of new clothes,” she remarked.

He shrugged as if the money were of no consequence. For a hot-shot psychiatrist with no obligations besides himself, maybe it wasn’t. “Why did you come late and skip out early on the service? Did the reverend’s sermon hit too close to home?”

Frankly she couldn’t remember what the sermon was about. She’d been too lost in the past to listen. “I’m not much of a churchgoer,” she admitted.

“But you believe in God.”

“Most of the time.” As his look shifted from teasing to serious interest, she gestured impatiently. “I believe there’s a God who created the universe and everything in it and is
watching over us all. I just don’t believe he pays very close attention sometimes.”

“Why? Because prayers go unanswered? Bad things happen?”

She gave a stubborn shake of her head, refusing to reply. As a rule, she didn’t discuss her faith with anyone, and she certainly wasn’t going to discuss it with J.D. in his hotshot-psychiatrist persona. “You’d better gather the children and go.”

“Come and have lunch with us.”

“No, thanks.”

“It’ll be the best lunch you’ve had since coming to Bethlehem.”

“Oh, so you’re going to the Winchesters’.”

“Yes, ma’am. They outdo themselves for Sunday dinner.” He caught her hand and tugged, but she didn’t move. “Come on, Kelsey. Don’t make me beg. It’s not a pretty sight.”

But it would definitely be an interesting one, she thought as she freed her hand. “Learn some manners, Dr. Grayson. When a woman says no, she means no. And when someone is kind enough to invite you
and
your four wards to dinner, you don’t drag along other guests.”

He turned away from her, but she didn’t think for an instant that he was giving up. Instead, he scanned the crowd, then called in a voice guaranteed to draw everyone’s attention their way, “Miss Agatha! Do you care if Kelsey comes to dinner?”

“Why, of course not, J.D. You know better than that. Kelsey dear, we’d love to have you. I would have invited you myself if I’d known you were here.”

With a blush warming her face Kelsey closed her eyes for a moment and sarcastically muttered, “Thank you, J.D.” When she opened her eyes again, she found him staring at her. “What?” she asked grumpily.

“That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name.”

She opened her mouth to disagree, to point out that she’d been calling him that for days now, but it wasn’t exactly true. While in her thoughts he was J.D., in person she’d called him Dr. Grayson or nothing at all.

“You’re warming up to me, aren’t you? You must be, ’cause your little cheeks are turning pink.”

Kelsey rolled her eyes. “You are the most arrogant, smuggest, most frustrating person I’ve ever met.”

“Thanks,” he said solemnly. “I like you too.” He hooked his arm through hers and forced her to start walking with him. “Leave your car here and come to the Winchesters’ for dinner, and then we’ll stop by your apartment so you can change clothes and you can spend the afternoon out at the house with us.”

She gave in because it was easier than arguing. Because she had nothing planned for the rest of the day but a phone call to her mother after a solitary lunch. Because it was too lovely a day to spend alone.

Not because she really, truly wanted to go.

“I thought your truck seated only five.”

“Gracie’s already informed me that she’s riding with the Winchesters.
They
bought the hated dress, but
I
get the blame for making her wear it.”

“But my car … I shouldn’t just leave it on the street.”

He gave her an exaggeratedly patient look. “This is Bethlehem, Kelsey. On these streets you’re more likely to come back and find it washed and waxed than vandalized.”

They stopped beside his truck, and he called the boys, instructing them to climb in back. Jacob and Noah obeyed. Caleb announced with a scowl that he was going with Gracie, and together they watched him climb into the Winchesters’ car.

“Any more arguments?”

Kelsey glanced at J.D. “I guess not.”

“Then get in the truck, please. And do me a favor.” Lowering his voice so the boys couldn’t hear, he said with a lascivious grin, “Pull your skirt up real high like you did last time.”

“I don’t think so.” Last time her skirt had fitted so snugly that she’d had no other choice. This time she gathered the long, full folds and climbed into the seat without revealing anything more than her ankles. She smiled smugly. “Shall we go, Dr. Grayson?”

J
.D. sat cross-legged on the deck, his eyes closed, the sun warm on his skin. It was the middle of the afternoon, and there wasn’t a single sound that didn’t belong in his world. No televisions or stereos blaring, no cars driving past, no airplanes flying overhead. Just the birds, the wind, the water. The quiet of nature, along with the absence of man-made intrusions, soothed him, made him feel almost whole. He wasn’t there yet, might never be completely there, but he was better. He was making progress.

“What does J.D. stand for?”

For a moment he considered the voice. It should be an intrusion, unwelcome and out of place. But this voice didn’t feel as if it didn’t belong. Like the birds, the wind, and the water, it seemed a very part of this place. Natural. Right.

“Just Delightful,” he replied. His own voice felt natural too. For a long time it hadn’t. He’d looked in the mirror without recognizing his own face, heard his own voice and wondered whom it belonged to. For many long, difficult months, everything about him had seemed all wrong, especially
the fact that he was alive. That had been the biggest wrong of all.

Beside him Kelsey snorted. “Puh-leeze. John David?”

“Just and Divine.”

“James Douglas?”

“Jaded Do-gooder.”

“Joshua Dylan? Jerry Dean?” A pause, then … “Are you?”

He’d never been corrupt or degenerate, but in the word’s second meaning … Fatigued, exhausted, worn out. Oh, yeah, he’d been that for a very long time.

Opening his eyes, he stretched out to face her and leaned on one elbow. “Are those your best guesses? What about Jasper Derwood? Jebediah Demetrius. Julius De-Witt.”

She was watching him with a look that said she was still stuck on
Jaded Do-gooder
, but she let herself be distracted. “I bet it’s something simple, like Jack Daniel.”

“Nope, but I once was acquainted with a Jack Daniel’s.” Ignoring the tension seeping through his muscles, he went on. “Would you believe my father’s name was Jay and my mother’s name was Dee?”

“Nope.”

“I didn’t think so. Where’d you get a name like Kelsey?”

“My mother thought it had a good Irish ring to it. I looked it up in a baby book once. It said it was Norse or Scandinavian, neither of which I am.”

“But you are Irish.”

She smiled faintly. “Kelsey Colleen Malone, only daughter of Patrick Ryan Malone and Mary Kathleen Malone and only sister of Sean Kieran Malone.”

“So tell me, Kelsey Colleen. How did a good Irish girl come to have her doubts about God?”

An uneasy look crept across her face, and her movements
as she got to her feet and dusted her clothes were jerky. “It’s a long story, and you came here to work, not listen to long, sad stories.”

He gazed at her, from sneakers up mile-long legs to denim shorts, over a snug T-shirt advertising a 10K run, finally reaching her face, in shadow because the sun was at her back. “I generally get paid well to listen to sad stories,” he said quietly. “I’m offering to hear yours for free.”

“It’s not that sad. It’s not really anything at all except boring.” She started toward the house. “Come on. Break time’s over. Let’s get back to work.”

J.D. watched until he couldn’t see her anymore, then slowly got to his feet. They
had
come to work, just the two of them. Jacob and Noah had wanted to play with Josie and the Walker kids, Gracie had insisted on baking with the Winchester sisters, and Caleb had refused to leave the others for anything as insignificant as the work on this house. He was afraid someone else might exert some influence on them while he was gone, might in some small way start to usurp his position as the most important person in their lives. And he was right to be afraid, because it
was
happening, so slowly it was hardly noticeable but happening just the same.

He had expected Kelsey to back out too, but when he’d given her the opportunity, she hadn’t grabbed it. That fact pleased him more than he could say. They’d finished the last of the kitchen cabinets before taking their break and would be moving on to the cabinets in the office. No doubt she was in there, waiting, pretending their conversation hadn’t gotten the least bit serious. But that was all right. He knew how to coax people into talking when they didn’t want to. And if they absolutely refused, he also knew how to patiently wait until they were ready.

She was in the office, sitting on the unfinished window seat, work gloves on, feet tapping out a rhythm on the
subfloor. When he walked in, she stood up, stretched, and moved to the nearest cabinet, helping him shift it into place.

“So you have a brother. Is he older or younger?”

“Younger.”

“Is he married? Does he have kids?”

“Married, no kids.”

“What about your folks? What do they do?”

“My father is a partner with his brothers in a little business their grandfather started. My mother oversees everyone else’s business.”

“Including yours?”

“Of course. What good Irish mother doesn’t try to run her children’s lives?” As she moved, a strand of hair fell away from the band that secured her ponytail. He thought about working it back into place, then about removing the band and letting it all fall free—long, heavy, wildly curling around her shoulders, his hands, his body.

He cleared his throat, but it did nothing to clear the image from his mind or the sudden heat from his body. Giving the cabinet an overzealous push, he smashed his finger between it and the wall and muttered a curse, then forced his attention back to the conversation. “What does your mother think of your moving here?”