blackened windows raced past him. He caught a glimpse of Heather through the cracked windshield just before she turned the corner.
“Wait! Stop! How do I reach you? What’s your phone number?”
His boots pounded on the sidewalk, echoing the hammering of his heart. His lungs burned, his legs ached. She couldn’t do this.
She turned the corner. By the time he got there, she’d vanished.
He swore. If words could form clouds, they’d have been black and thundering above his head.
He trudged back to the courtyard. Each foot weighed a ton. What the hell was he supposed to do with a kid?
The girl sat where he’d left her, staring at him with eerily familiar brown eyes. Tears washed her cheeks, but she didn’t make a sound.
“Kid.” Damn it. What was her name? He dug through the first bag and pulled out a packet of papers. Flipping through them, he found what he assumed was a birth certificate.
His name was in the middle of the page, next to what looked like the word father. What the hell?
He scanned the jumble of letters. Belisala. No. He exhaled and tried again. Isabella. That rang a bell.
He looked at the girl. He couldn’t take care of a kid. Kids were smarter than he was. He shoved his hat off his head. What about work? He needed every hour to make sure he didn’t screw up Abby’s restaurant.
He was too stupid to be a dad.
Mom. Mom would know what to do. Mom could take care of...Isabella.
CHERYL SMILED AS Josh laughed at something one of the workers said. His belly laugh warmed everything inside her. The Fitzgerald sisters joined in.
She inhaled. With Nathan gone, she could take full breaths again. She didn’t like being near big men. But the other crew members were almost as large and didn’t make her belly quiver like Nathan did.
“Time to let the crew get back to work,” she called to Josh.
“Mom.” Exasperation laced his words.
“Miss Abby wants her restaurant built,” she said.
Abby nodded. “But thanks for drawing that wonderful picture in the cement.”
“I’ll grab the table,” Cheryl said.
“Thanks.” Abby picked up the tray and the three sisters headed out.
“Come on, Josh,” Cheryl said.
“Mr. Jed said I could pour concrete.”
She looked at Jed. “I don’t know.”
“Couple of minutes?” Jed asked.
“I guess.” She folded up the table.
Nathan entered the carriage house and she swore the temperature shot up. Where was the woman who’d come looking for him?
The men started to pour, letting Josh push the cement down the chute. Nathan headed to Jed and they talked in hushed voices.
“I need to get back to work,” Cheryl called to Josh after a few minutes.
“They need my help,” Josh insisted. “It’s summer vacation, Mom.”
She tipped her head. “Now.”
Josh kicked the floor but joined her. She could almost hear the pout in his footsteps. Nearing the door, she spotted a little girl with tears hanging from her eyelashes. “Are you lost?”
The child looked around. A tear plopped onto her T-shirt.
“Are you a guest?” Cheryl knelt next to her. “Where are your parents?”
A silent sob racked the little girl’s chest.
Looking at the men, Cheryl asked, “Is your daddy here?”
The girl pointed at Jed and Nathan. Jed’s daughter? Why would she be at a dangerous work site?
Josh inched back to the men near the concrete mixer.
“Josh.”
“One more minute.”
“One.” Cheryl held out her hand. “Let’s see your father.”
It took a few seconds but the girl put her hand in Cheryl’s and they walked over to Jed and Nathan.
“Jed?” she asked.
Both men looked up.
“I wasn’t sure where you wanted your daughter to stay,” she said.
Jed’s eyes went wide. “She’s not mine.”
Cheryl’s mouth dropped open. She shifted her gaze. “Nathan?”
“I...I...” His face paled. “I guess.”
“You guess?” No one had hinted Nathan had a child. How could he be so indifferent to Josh if he was a father?
“Is-Isabella. She’s m-mine.” Nathan looked miserable. “Her mother...left her.”
She herded the child next to Nathan, but the girl clutched her hand, forcing her to peel the girl’s fingers out of her grasp.
“Josh.” She backed away. “Time to go.”
Her son smoothed wet cement. “Just a little longer.”
“Now,” she insisted.
For once Josh didn’t talk back. The man he was helping gave him a high-five.
“Call if you need me,” Nathan said to Jed.
She hurried to get out the door ahead of Nathan and his daughter. But Josh said goodbye to every man in the carriage house. Everyone except Nathan.
At least Nathan and the girl were heading to the parking lot. She watched their body language. The little girl dragged her feet. Nathan’s shoulders were stiff as granite.
Not her business. She had wine-tasting appetizers to prep.
Nathan opened his truck door and lifted the girl into the front seat.
“What are you doing?” Even though she should mind her own business, she rushed over. “Where’s her car seat?”
Nathan rubbed his forehead. “Car seat?”
“You can’t put her in the front seat. The airbag could...hurt her.” She grabbed Nathan’s arm. “And she needs to be in a car seat, otherwise the seat belt could injure her, too.”
“Sh—” Nathan pressed his temples. “I mean shoot.”
Josh moved beside her. “Every dummy knows you need a car seat.”
Nathan glared so hard at her son, Cheryl put her arms around Josh’s shoulders.
“I don’t have one.” Nathan paced a few steps away. “I just...”
The man was pale. This didn’t look like a clueless father—he was too panicked for that. He looked lost.
“Josh’s booster seat is in my car,” she volunteered.
Relief softened his face. “Could I borrow it?”
“It’s hard to get the clips undone. Just...take my car.” She dug in her pocket for her keys. “She might not weigh enough for that booster seat. You need to get the right seat for her right away. What’s her name again?”
He dug through a bag and pulled out a piece of paper. “Isabella. Isabella,” he repeated, as if memorizing the name.
What was going on?
Nathan