happy in the past year.”
Jack wasn’t sure whether he was pleased that his brother had grown into his marriage, or sad that the happiness had been so short-lived, so he didn’t respond.
Instead, he noted the way Abby had her arms wrapped against her stomach, and he smiled at her again, hoping to soothe her pain. “Abby, we need to talk about the farm,” he said. “May I call you?”
“I guess you’ll have to,” she answered.
Jack started toward his car, carting Wyatt in front of him like a sack of potatoes. He knew four pairs of eyes were probably boring into his back, but he’d gone a few yards before Abby spoke.
“Jack? Don’t you want his things?”
He stopped in his tracks and turned around. Of course. The baby’s things. He’d been so intent on looking capable that he’d forgotten Wyatt would need special food, and diapers. He’d need clothes and toys and…baby things.
“I have some of it in my truck,” Abby said, beginning to walk toward the other end of the parking lot.
As Jack followed her, he added idiocy to his growing pile of bad feelings. At least this one wasn’t new—she had a knack for making him feel foolish.
Maybe it was her no-nonsense manner. Maybe it was her sober expression. Whatever it was, it always seemed abundantly clear that she wouldn’t surrender to his most valiant efforts to charm.
But at least she was in the minority—most women surrendered plenty.
At fourteen, Jack had taken a wide-angled look at his future. As far as school was concerned, he’d been on a path to success. He was sure to graduate in the upper five percent, along with many of his pals in the computer club.
The only problem was that none of them had been surrounded by girls. He’d recognized the narrow perception most of his peer group had of intelligent males, and refused to accept it.
He could do better. He’d used his brains to figure out the most surefire method to win a lady’s attention, if not her heart, and a would-be nerd had turned into a masterful lothario.
Since then, most women had been only too happy to catch his interest. Abby was one of very few who’d been resistant. But she hadn’t always been. She’d consented to more than one dance at Brian and Paige’s wedding reception. She’d even laughed at a few jokes, until they’d talked their way into a squabble.
Now she didn’t seem to mind hurtling across the parking lot in front of him, and she didn’t try to make polite conversation. Once she reached a big blue pickup, she opened the passenger door and reached inside for a second diaper bag and a box of supplies. “If you’ll meet me at the farmhouse tomorrow morning, say around nine, we can get the rest of his things,” she said. “This is just a start.”
“Sure thing. Phenomenal. Thanks.”
Abby set the box on the pavement and looked pointedly at Wyatt. “Why don’t I hold him while you put these in your car? Then I’ll get his car seat and you can take it, too.”
Handing the baby back to her, he looped the diaper bag over a shoulder, picked up the box and strode to his car to stash both in the trunk.
Returning to Abby, he took Wyatt again, and thought about all the juggling involved in transporting a single infant. How had Abby thought she could handle two of them alone?
He was careful to hold Wyatt in the same face-out position, rocking him gently, and was surprised when the boy started to whimper. When Jack bounced harder, the bawling got louder. He cleared his throat. “Abby? Why is he crying?”
“You have a lot to learn, don’t you?” she said. “He may be hungry or wet. Try putting your fingertip in his mouth.”
Jack scowled. This was no time to make jokes.
Abby opened her eyes wide, set her hands on her hips and waited. She looked serious.
Frowning still, he stretched one hand across Wyatt’s chest so he could press a pinkie finger against the quivering lips. Wyatt immediately stopped sniveling and started sucking.
“Good,” Abby said. “Your finger should calm him until you can dig a binky out of the bag.”
“A binky?”
She chuckled. “A pacifier.”
Abby turned back to her truck, leaning across the back seat to disengage one of the car seats. She had the most delicious little tush, and the skirt she was wearing showcased it perfectly. It wasn’t too much of a stretch to imagine what she’d look like without it.
Jack smothered a groan and looked away. The last thing he needed was to foster an attraction for Abby.
Keeping his finger in place, he lifted Wyatt onto his forearm and occupied himself with chuckling at the boy’s tiny vest and long brown curls. Abby had dressed him like a little man today, but from the looks of things, a trip to the barber would be in order before Wyatt’s first birthday.
Abby clunked the car seat down on the pavement and lifted Wyatt from his arms. “I’ll carry him to your car,” she said. “Installing a car seat takes both hands.”
Make that three to four hands, Jack thought a few minutes later as he fumbled with straps and buckles that seemed to make no sense.
It took one extra baby rotation before the seat was secure, but after Abby’s more practiced hands took over the chore, Wyatt was in the seat with a pacifier and she was heading back across the parking lot toward her parents.
Jack frowned as he sat in his car and watched her go. Her purposeful walk belied the reluctance she must have felt, and he knew she had to be upset.
He wished he could think of a better way. He glanced down at Wyatt, whose eyelids were droopy by now, and back out the window at Abby.
Her stride hadn’t faltered, but somehow, in a morning of mixed-up feelings, her walk made him smile. It wasn’t her speed or the lack of artificial sway, so much as the perfection of well-used legs and a sweet round bottom that couldn’t help but wiggle. That no-nonsense walk was as entrancing as any he’d seen.
That walk, and his reaction to seeing it, were the only right things about the morning. He kept grinning as he started his car. Quite unintentionally, Abby had graced him with a moment of pure delight.
“ABBY? IT’S ME,” Jack said, pleased that she had answered her phone. During the last call she had definitely sounded riled. He’d been afraid she would take the phone off the hook, and he needed her advice.
“Yes, Jack. What do you need?”
“I finally got this formula mixed and heated, and then the phone rang and I didn’t get Wyatt fed for thirty minutes. Do I have to start over completely?”
“Hang on,” she said with a long sigh. She spoke to someone in the background. The string of babbling that followed must be Rosie, playing. In his five hours with Wyatt, Jack had heard nothing but wailing.
“He’s been waiting for his bottle for thirty minutes?” Abby asked abruptly. She sounded as if she was right there beside him. He could picture her with her hands on her hips and that preachy look on her face. “What’s he doing?”
“Lying on the floor, sucking on a pacifier.”
“For thirty minutes? What did you do with the bottle?”
She made a tsk-ing sound, which was totally unnecessary.
There was no possible way for Jack to feel any more inept than he already did.
“It’s on the counter, in the kitchenette.”
“For Pete’s sake, feed the kid. Why didn’t you do it while you were talking on the phone?”
“Sometimes I need to get on my laptop to figure out how to solve a client’s problem. I needed my hands