he wasn’t sure how he’d ended up with a small child wrapped around him.
Millie cleared her throat and he looked up. “Sorry. I haven’t been a dad for very long. It’s still sometimes amazing that she’s really mine.”
“How old are you, Brooke?” Millie asked, squatting down to the girl’s level.
Brooke, suddenly shy, kept her gaze on her bunny but held up four fingers.
Millie glanced at Jake, her eyebrows raised.
“What did Logan and Olivia tell you about me?” he asked.
“Not much,” she admitted. “That you’re a surgeon who travels around the world. You were injured during an earthquake on an island near Haiti and need help with your daughter while you recover.”
One side of his mouth curved. “That’s an abbreviated version.”
“So I gathered,” Millie answered. She held out a hand to Brooke. “Sweetie, can I help you give Bunny a bath? She’s dripping all over your daddy’s leg.”
“Bunny’s a boy,” Brooke and her father said at the same time.
Millie smiled. “He’s not going to smell very good if that juice dries on him. How about we wash him off, then you can watch while he goes in the dryer?”
Brooke released the death hold she had on Jake’s leg the tiniest bit. “He wants a bubble bath.”
“Of course he does.” Millie straightened and took a step forward, wiggling her fingers. “Can you show me the bathroom? We’ll take good care of him.”
With a tentative nod, Brooke took Millie’s hand. This brought her only a few inches from Jake, who smelled like a strangely intriguing mix of grape juice and laundry detergent. “I’d like to understand the whole story,” she said quietly.
He nodded, his deep blue eyes intent on hers. “I’ll get changed then explain it.” He lowered his voice and added, “I’d rather not discuss the details in front of Brooke.”
The little girl tugged her toward the house. “Bunny wants to smell good.”
Millie started to follow but paused as Jake pressed his uninjured hand to her bare arm. She almost flinched but caught herself, focusing on the warmth of his fingers.
His hand lifted immediately. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “My daughter hasn’t cried for the past fifteen minutes. You have no idea what an accomplishment that is.”
Although she knew it meant nothing, Millie was surprised to feel a tiny kernel of happiness unfurl in her chest along with a shimmer of awareness for Jake Travers. Best to ignore the awareness and focus on the happiness. It had been so long since she’d accomplished anything of value in her life. She’d learned to appreciate even the smallest victory.
“It’s going to be okay, Jake,” she said, hoping beyond all reason that she could make it true for both of them.
It took Jake longer than he wanted to get cleaned up, which was one more thing to add to his current list of frustrations. As a surgeon with Miles of Medicine, an international medical humanitarian organization, he was used to moving quickly. He’d made efficiency a priority in his life—in movement, time and, most important, relationships. He lived simply, able to pack up with an hour’s notice based on where he was most needed.
The place he was most needed right now was in Brooke’s life, but it galled him how inept and incapable he felt. He hadn’t even bothered with a proper shower because the hassle of maneuvering himself in and out with his ankle and arm wasn’t worth the trouble. Without the boot or splint, he couldn’t put weight on his right leg or use his right arm. Instead he’d done his best to wash off the sticky juice residue in the master bath before dressing in his current uniform of a T-shirt and baggy shorts, the only clothes he could change into quickly despite his injuries.
The door to the guest bathroom was closed as he came down the hall. He was grateful his sister-in-law had found him a rental property with two bathrooms in the main part of the house so that Brooke could have her own space. He couldn’t make out the words over the sound of running water but could hear her sweet voice rising and falling as she spoke to Millie Spencer.
Unwilling to deal with the reality of how much he needed help quite yet, he started the monumental task of cleaning the kitchen. He’d wiped down most of the counters and covered the floor with almost half a roll of paper towels before Millie followed Brooke into the room.
His daughter cradled Bunny in her arms in a fluffy towel. “Daddy, sniff.” She held out the stuffed animal to him. “He smells so good.”
He breathed deeply but all he got was a big whiff of wet fake fur. “That’s nice,” he told Brooke.
Millie grinned at him over Brooke’s head. “Laundry room?”
“To your left just past the table.”
She carried a small plastic stool in her hands. “Let’s get Bunny dry, Brooke. You can watch him spin while your daddy and I talk.”
To Jake’s surprise, Brooke nodded. Since he’d brought his daughter to Crimson, the only time she would let him out of her sight was when she slept. Maybe Millie Spencer was some sort of kid whisperer. Jake sure as hell needed one.
“So you’re Olivia’s sister?” he asked as Millie walked back into the room a few minutes later.
When she nodded, he added, “You two don’t look alike.”
“She’s actually my half sister. We have the same dad.”
“Did you grow up together?”
Her shoulders stiffened even as she gave him a gentle smile. “I’m guessing we only have a few minutes before your daughter gets bored watching the dryer. Is this really how you want to use that time?” She crouched down and began cleaning the paper towels from the floor.
“You don’t have to do that. It’s my mess.”
She didn’t stop to look at him. “Tell me about you and Brooke.”
When her chin-length hair fell into her face, she didn’t bother to push it away. He wanted to reach out himself, to see if the caramel-colored strands were as soft as they looked. The skin on her arms looked just as smooth, although he noticed how toned they were as she wiped up the spill.
“I first learned that I had a daughter two months ago.” He continued straightening the kitchen as her attention remained on the floor. Somehow the fact that both of them kept busy made it easier to tell the story. “Brooke’s mother was a doctor I knew from my travels, another aid worker. We were only together a few times when our paths crossed in the field. Then Stacy disappeared.” His fingers gripped the cup he’d just picked up so hard the plastic began to bend. He released his hold and loaded the cup into the dishwasher. “She found me where I was working near Haiti a couple of months ago to tell me I had a four-year-old daughter back in Atlanta who was asking about her father. Stacy wanted to give me a chance to be a part of Brooke’s life.”
“That must have been a real shock.” Millie stood and threw the wad of paper towels into the garbage.
Jake thought about her observation as he watched her wet a dish towel and begin wiping down the tile floor around the spill. “You really don’t have to do that.”
“It will be sticky otherwise,” she answered. “Keep talking, Jake.”
He hated this part of the story and the guilt and helplessness that went with it. Jake had spent most of his childhood feeling helpless to stop the damage his father caused in