The New Baby

“So I see.” Amanda pursed her lips and squirmed as she noticed Ian’s gaze lingering on her. “But since you’re not on a restricted diet,” she went on, “I suppose we can let a box of doughnuts slip by this once.”

“If you’re gonna eat ’em, you’ll have to put your teeth in, Papaw,” Ian ribbed. Then he flipped open the lid and held the box up in offering. “Would you like one?”

The tempting scent of chocolate and powdered sugar wafted over her, but she barely gave a second thought to the proffered treats. Ian Bonner was far more distracting than bakery goodies, which meant she needed to get back to work.

“No thanks. If I eat a doughnut, I’ll end up wearing it on my hiney.”

Zeb guffawed, then gave her an approving look. “Nothing wrong with your hiney,” he teased. “I doubt a doughnut or two would hurt it.”

Embarrassment filled her as Amanda realized what her comment had evoked. Ian shifted his eyes to her hips, then looked back up at her and hid a smile with obvious effort. The expression on his face made her blush even more. “You’re a masher, Zeb,” she said. “Admit it.” She shook her finger at him once more. “And don’t forget you need to take those doughnuts to your room. No food or drink allowed in the day room.”

“Spoilsport,” Zeb said. Then to Ian, “C’mon, son. I’ve got a bottle of Jack Daniel’s hidden in my closet that’ll go real nice with these doughnuts.”

“I thought that was moonshine.” Amanda’s lips twitched.

“Nope. That I hid under my bed.” Zeb began to put away his chess set, placing the pieces inside the hinged compartment of the rosewood-and-mahogany playing board.

“It’s a shame to interrupt your game,” Ian teased. But his smile was for Amanda, and she felt her face warm all over again.

“No problem.” Zeb closed the board. “I was losin’ anyway.”

IAN HATED TO LEAVE Papaw. It didn’t seem right, having him here in the nursing home when the old man had spent the better part of his life in the hills, hunting, fishing, running his small tobacco farm. But a fall from his mule had put him in the hospital with a broken hip, and Shade Tree Manor was the best place for him to recover.

“I’ve got to go now, Papaw,” Ian said, rising from the chair next to his grandpa’s bed. “I’ll be by again soon.” He tried to visit Papaw as often as possible, but for the last week or so, things at the welding shop had kept him busy enough that he’d only managed to come by twice.

Papaw waved a gnarled hand in farewell, already absorbed in watching his favorite game show. Ian smiled, noting a dab of chocolate stuck to the corner of his grandpa’s bottom lip. He tossed a paper napkin in Papaw’s lap, then crumpled up the bag that had held two cartons of chocolate milk and stuffed it into the trash can. “See ya.” He gave the old man a quick hug, then walked out into the hall to the open reception area.

There she was again. The nurse that had left his stomach doing funny things that had nothing to do with too much chocolate. Amanda Kelly. He liked the way her name sounded inside his mind. She hadn’t noticed him the last time he’d been here, but he’d sure noticed her. And when she’d walked up to Papaw’s card table this morning, he’d had a hard time keeping his eyes where they belonged. He might not have recalled seeing her years ago, but her shapely curves, pretty green eyes and blond hair definitely had his attention now.

Today she wore a pale-green blouse with her white pantsuit uniform. The blouse brought out the color in her eyes, and Ian wondered how close she was in age to his own thirty-two years. From Papaw’s earlier comment, he concluded she must be somewhat younger, certainly not older. She had her back to him at the moment, and though her jacket hid a good deal of her figure, he was sure Papaw was right. There was nothing wrong with the way she was shaped. Nothing at all.

She stood inside the nurses’ station, bent over the computer with another woman who sat at the keyboard. They talked and Amanda nodded, then picked up a stack of papers and made her way into the reception area. She glanced up at him and smiled, then averted her gaze and walked on by. He started to say something, anything that would make her stop and talk to him, but before he got the chance, one of the sheets of paper she carried slid out of her grasp and fluttered to the tile floor.

He would’ve picked it up for her, had he reached her sooner. As it was, he was but a couple of steps shy of doing so when the glass doors of the front entrance swung open and a young man and woman hurried into the building. Ian recognized the guy as Danny Taylor, who worked at the auto parts store in town. Danny’s wife, barely more than a girl, carried a baby in her arms, wrapped in a pink afghan. Laughing and talking, neither of them paid attention to where they walked, and as Amanda bent to retrieve the paper from the floor, Danny nearly bumped into her.

“Look out, Danny.” His wife balanced the baby in the crook of one arm, and clutched his sleeve with her free hand, tugging him sideways.

“Excuse me, ma’am.” Danny gave Amanda an apologetic smile as she straightened, paper in hand.

“No problem.” Her lips curved in response, but her face went ghastly pale, and Ian wondered if she’d stood up too fast after bending over to reach what she’d dropped.

Her eyes locked on the baby, and the look of sadness and longing he saw there gave him a chill. Amanda’s expression closely mirrored one he knew he’d worn more than once.

How many times had he searched the faces of babies so many years ago, looking for familiarity in their features? And later, in the scout troop he occasionally supervised. Most recently, wondering where his son might be today, he caught himself watching the faces of teenagers he saw around town. The pizza delivery boy, the kid who pumped gas at the BP station…

No matter how futile the effort, Ian couldn’t stop looking.

Amanda wore that same haunted expression as she stared briefly at the baby, then turned away and quickly tried to hide what her face so clearly said she’d felt. She saw Ian watching her, and waved her fingers in a see-you-later gesture, then headed down the hall and ducked into an office, closing the door behind her. Ian mumbled a greeting to Danny and his child-wife as they passed by, his thoughts whirling. Outside, he climbed into his pickup and cranked the engine, leaning his elbow on the open window as he backed out of the parking space.

Had Amanda given up a baby when she was young? He shook off the thought, telling himself it was ridiculous to assume things about a woman he didn’t even know. Her reaction could’ve been due to any number of things. Maybe she had a half-grown kid at home and longed for the days when the child had been an infant. His cousins often complained how quickly their little ones grew up. Or maybe she wanted a baby and didn’t yet have one.

Or maybe he was nuts, thinking and worrying over a stranger and what her life might involve. But he couldn’t help it. The sorrow he’d seen in Amanda had hit him right in the stomach. And the way she’d tried to hide her emotions before anyone noticed left him wanting to go back inside the building and ask her what was wrong. Tell her he’d sit and listen if she needed an ear to bend or a shoulder to lean on. Because he’d been there.

He’d felt pain as deep as that in Amanda’s eyes on a cloudy day sixteen years ago.

A day when he’d signed his newborn son away to a pair of total strangers.

CHAPTER TWO

IAN PULLED OFF HIS welding gloves and laid them on the workbench next to the horse trailer he’d been working on for the better part of the afternoon. Bought at a bargain, it needed new feeder racks, tack compartment dividers and metal hooks for halters and ropes. The customer who owned it was a regular, always finding something or other for Ian to weld or repair.

Hot and tired, he set his hood on the welder and removed his welding sleeves. Despite the day’s accomplishments, he still felt an empty hunger no amount of hard work ever seemed to erase. He hadn’t been able to get Amanda Kelly off his mind these last few days, no matter how many customers came to his shop to chat and bring him things to do.

He thought back to the conversation he’d had with Papaw the other morning while they ate the doughnuts he’d brought.

“I couldn’t help but notice the way you looked at Miss Kelly,” Papaw said. His sharp blue eyes had studied Ian.

“Sure, and who wouldn’t?” Ian couldn’t help grinning. Papaw still had an eye for the ladies, and probably would until the day they laid him to rest. “She’s a good-looking woman.”

“Won’t get no argument from me on that,” Papaw said. “But I reckon I saw more to the way you watched her than that.”

“What do you mean?”

The old man grunted. “You know what.” He shook one finger at Ian. “You’re a workaholic, boy. When was the last time you took a woman out?”

“On a date?”

“No, on a fishing trip.” Zeb gave him a playful punch in the arm, his aim as good as it ever was. “’Course I mean on a date.”

Ian shrugged. “I don’t know.” He pondered the question. “Last Valentine’s Day, when Billy Ray’s sister Sheryl was in town?”

“That’s just what I’m saying.” Papaw shook his head in a gesture of hopelessness. “You need to get out more.”

“I can’t ask Amanda out,” Ian protested. “She doesn’t even know me.”

“Can’t never did anything. Go on and ask her. I’d do it myself, if I were ten years younger.”

Ian laughed and Papaw gave him a sly grin, made wider than normal by his dentures. Then he grew serious. “How’re you ever gonna make a family of your own if you’re alone all the time?”

How indeed? The thought ate at him now as Ian closed the shop door, locked it and headed for the barn. Banjo, Papaw’s buckskin mule, brayed at him from the connected paddock, wanting a treat. Ian gave him some sweet feed, then walked up the hill to the house he’d called home for the better part of his life. The worn porch steps creaked as he climbed them, and Cuddles, the Rottweiler he’d had since she was a pup, rose from her place near the steps and wagged her stubby tail. He patted her and fed her from a sack of dog food he kept on the enclosed back porch before going inside the house.

The kitchen was way too quiet without Papaw here. He’d lived with Ian ever since Mamaw passed away a year ago. But then he broke his hip, and all that had ended. At least for a while. From the fridge, Ian grabbed a can of beer, popping the top as he walked into the living room. Maybe his grandpa was right. He really didn’t have much of a social life, and couldn’t remember the last time a woman who wasn’t a relative had entered this house.

The men on the Bonner side of the family seemed to outlive their women more often than not. His mom had succumbed to cancer long ago, and his dad now lived in Virginia, close to three of his own sisters and their grandkids. With Ian an only child, Matthew Bonner had probably given up on ever having grandchildren of his own. Ian often wondered if his dad regretted having taken part in convincing him to give up his son all those years ago.

Sinking into his favorite chair, he propped his booted feet on the ottoman and looked around, trying to view the room the way a stranger might see it. What would Amanda Kelly think of this place if he were to invite her over? The living room was clean but cluttered, the windows bare of curtains. With neighbors no closer than a mile away, and the house sitting up on a hill some distance off the road, there was no need to worry anyone would look in. Like most other homes outside Boone’s Crossing, the place was surrounded by woods, with a grove of trees in the yard, the pasture spreading out beyond.

Ian closed his eyes and pictured walking up the front steps with Amanda, inviting her in for a cold drink. Probably sweet tea or Coke. She didn’t look like a woman who drank beer. Maybe wine. Not his thing. But then what did he know? As Papaw had pointed out, he didn’t make much time for dating, and overall, women were a mystery to him.