If one groom didn’t work, then go grab another, right?
He frowned at his grandmother so she knew he wasn’t thrilled by the situation. “She needs to use the phone.”
“Yes, I got lost and then my car died,” the wayward bride explained, as she gathered her skirts and hiked up the steps. Her ragged train swept along behind her. “I’m so sorry to inconvenience you.”
“It’s not a lick of trouble, don’t you worry.” Gran looked pleased as punch as she led the way into the house. “We can get Bucky to take a look at your car. Don’t tell me you were on your way to your wedding?”
“More like running away from the disaster my wedding had become.”
“A runaway bride. How mysterious. Come in, dear. You look as if you could use a hot cup of tea and a plate of my homemade cookies.”
Never should have brought the bride home. Gage kicked his boots off on the porch and slapped himself on the forehead. Too late now. Gran looked as cozy as could be, fussing over the young woman. That was his grandmother. Nurturing to all. She looked bursting with excitement, ecstatic that her prayer had been answered. He’d found not just a woman on the way home, but one in a wedding gown.
He stormed into the foyer with shopping bags in hand, and gave the door a shove. The resulting bang reverberated through the house, surprising even him.
“Gage.” Gran looked up from the archway into the kitchen. She winced when a baby’s crying erupted upstairs. “Look what you’ve done. You’ve woken Matthew.”
“Sorry.” He shrugged out of his coat, mad at himself and wishing he could have a do-over on his day. “Want me to get him?”
“You? What do you know about babies?” Gran shook her head, as if she were sorry he’d turned out the way he had. He didn’t know a thing about infants, it was true. She said something to Karenna before disappearing up the stairwell.
He hung his jacket on a wall hook and realized he was alone in the living room. Where had the Digby woman gone? She’d been here a second ago. He followed the sound of water running to the kitchen. She stood at the sink filling the tea kettle.
Interesting.
He set the shopping bag on the counter. “Making yourself at home?”
“I thought I would help out. I don’t feel right, having your grandmother wait on me.” She spun the few steps to the stove and flipped on a burner.
“Then feel free to help yourself to the phone.” He nodded toward the wall phone hanging near the refrigerator. “The local yellow pages are in the top drawer. There are two listings for tow trucks, but Bucky is the one still in business.”
“Why don’t you like me?” She hitched her chin up a notch, studying him with blue eyes capable of bending unsuspecting men to her will.
“What’s not to like?” He grabbed a bottle of root beer from the fridge and twisted the cap. “As far as I can tell, you ran out on your wedding. What you’re doing here in a wedding dress is anyone’s guess. Why didn’t you change on the way? Or did you think the men here would be rubes, easily tricked into marrying you—so you didn’t bother to change?”
“Believe me, if you are anything like the rest of the men in this town, then I want to sue that magazine for false reporting. You are hardly hunky, marriage-minded or charming.” Okay, maybe she’d gotten carried away. Gage Parker was hunky, but that was about all the good she could say about him.
The baby’s crying grew louder as he grew closer, and she gave the disagreeable mountain man a wide berth as she eased by. Disdain rolled off him in waves.
It didn’t take a genius to guess his story. He’d been so disagreeable, his wife had left him, which had only embittered him more. Sympathy filled her. She knew firsthand how painful that cycle could be. She was a child of divorce. Her parents had battled each other until their bond and their marriage had been nothing but dust and broken promises.
With the way Alan had bailed on her, she could understand the allure of bitterness and blame. She was struggling not to give in to the darker side of her anger. Seeing Gage Parker’s life, living with his grandmother because he’d chased everyone else away, was a good reminder to her. Get the anger out, let go and let God lead her to a better place.
She’d pray for Gage, she decided, glancing over her shoulder. He had made a beeline to the phone and began dialing. No guess as to who he was calling. He did not look happy with her.
“Shhh, little Matthew,” Gage’s grandmother said soothing the baby’s cries in the homey living room. She cradled a blue-wrapped bundle cozily between her neck and her shoulder, one fragile hand caressing small circles against the baby’s back. “It’s all right now. There will be no more scary noises, I can promise you that.”
Karenna caught a glimpse of the baby’s red face and her heart broke at his misery. Poor little guy. She took one look at the older woman, her features hollow with exhaustion. Dark shadows bruised the skin beneath her eyes. Was she the infant’s sole caretaker? That was a worthy job, but a very demanding one, especially for this frail woman who looked to be struggling with the workload. What was Gage thinking? Determined to help, Karenna bounded through the living room, her own upset and tiredness forgotten.
“Someone’s having a rough night.” She tried to get a better look at the baby. He had a shock of dark hair, and big animated eyes and the cutest button face, scrunched up and tear stained. She placed him around six months old. His hands waved, fisted, with the strength of his sobs. She reached out for the little guy. “Let me take him for you.”
“So you know about babies?” The woman handed over the tyke with smiling approval.
“I worked in a day-care center. A very good one, I’m proud to say, ma’am.” She settled Matthew into the curve of her arm, hurting right along with him. “It’s hard being little, isn’t it? You sound hungry to me. Is that a hungry cry?”
“You can call me Jean, dear. I’ll warm a bottle.” Jean jumped toward the kitchen, eager to help. Easy to see the endless love she had for her great-grandchild.
“I can do it while I’m waiting for the tow truck. After all, you’ve had the day shift. You must be tired.” She gently rocked the child in her arms. “Sit down and relax.”
“What a dear you are, Karenna.” Jean beamed with gratitude. “It has been a wearying day.”
“Then put your feet up. I’ve got this covered.” She shared a smile with the elderly woman before retracing her steps to the kitchen. She began to hum the first tune that popped into her head, “Jesus Loves Me.” Matthew’s crying toned down a notch and his dark blue eyes searched hers. One tiny hiccup and he silenced, gazing up at her intently.
“There now, see? Everything is fine.” She hardly noticed the big surly man standing like a hulk in the center of the kitchen. Easy enough to skirt on by him. She tugged open the fridge. “We’ll get your bottle warm and food in your tummy. Wouldn’t that feel wonderful?”
“This isn’t going to work, you know.” Gage’s frown blasted her like icy wind off a glacier.
“Why? Is there something wrong with the stove?” She transferred a bottle from the refrigerator shelf onto the countertop.
“I’m not talking about the formula. You’re trying to win over my grandmother. I told you I wasn’t going to put up with any manipulation like that.”
“Manipulation?” Confused, she opened a lower cabinet and spied a pan. She snatched it by the handle and stepped around the glowering man. Again. “Sorry. You’re wrong about that. I only want to help.”
“But why?” He took the pan from her and turned on the tap. Water rushed in, and he studied her through his lashes, trying to figure out her angle.
“Because it’s a lot of work to take good care of an infant,