Willow Brook Road

Susie closed her eyes and, he suspected, her ears, to block out his words. “I can’t do it, Mack. Please don’t hate me, but I can’t.”

Mack wasn’t sure what to say. Susie had always been more certain about parenthood than he was. It had been her dream and, because he loved her so blasted deeply, he’d wanted to give her that, no matter how the child came into their lives. He could accept her decision and move on, but he knew in his heart the day would come when she’d regret it. Maybe he needed to accept her decision for now, then bring this up again when this latest wound wasn’t so fresh.

She glanced his way. “Have you heard from Sam? How’s he coping with losing his sister?”

“He’s doing okay, I think,” Mack said, relieved to have her show an interest in something, even if she was only doing it to change the subject. “The accident came as a terrible shock, but there’s more. He’s reeling, in fact.”

Real interest sparked in her eyes. “Why? What else happened?”

“His sister and brother-in-law named him guardian of their son, a six-year-old boy.”

Shock spread across her face. “Sam’s a dad? Just like that?”

Mack hesitated, sensing that the news had stirred envy as much as surprise. He should have considered that and kept quiet, but it was out there now.

“It was a shock to him, too,” Mack reported. “He said he’d tell me more when he got back to town. I think he was hoping to make it by last night. I imagine he’ll check in later today. I told him to take as long as he needs. We can manage okay at the paper for another week, if he needs that long to deal with the situation. Even longer, if need be.”

That vacant stare returned to Susie’s eyes. “Sam has a son,” she murmured. “Of all people.”

“Hey,” Mack protested. “Sam’s a good guy.”

“I suppose so. He’s a talented web designer, for sure, and a tech genius to hear you tell it, but come on, Mack, do you really see him as dad material?”

“I’m the last person to ask about that. I don’t know what it takes to be a good father.”

“Reliability’s a good place to start,” she said.

“Sam is reliable.”

“He left you in the lurch right after he started on the job,” she said, a critical note in her voice.

“Babe, his sister and brother-in-law were killed. Did you expect him not to attend the funeral?”

“Well, he hasn’t exactly settled down, has he? He’s still living at the inn.”

Mack suspected she was uttering these judgments for a reason, one he didn’t particularly like. “He’d only been here a couple of weeks, hardly enough time to find a house or even an apartment,” he said, defending Sam. “Where are you going with this, Suze?”

“How many jobs has he held over the past few years? Three? Four? What kind of man does that?” she asked without responding to his question about her motives.

“Someone who’s talented and very much in demand in a new field,” Mack replied, not sure why he was so ardently defending a man he barely knew himself, but having the feeling that he needed to make his position clear. Susie seemed to be heading in a worrisome direction. She’d liked Sam well enough when they’d had him over for dinner. This had to be about the boy, though Mack hoped he was wrong about that.

“We should go over to the inn and see how they’re doing,” she said out of the blue, standing up and proving that Mack’s instincts had been right on target.

“This morning? You haven’t slept a wink. You need rest more than you need to be running around paying social calls.”

She frowned at him. “I want to see for myself how Sam’s coping with a child to care for.”

Since Mack had been praying for a distraction for Susie, even one as misguided as he was sure this one was, he told himself he could control the situation and gave in.

“While you take a shower, I’ll call Jess to see if he’s back. If he is, we’ll go when you’re dressed,” he said.

“Why wait?” she asked, giving him a bewildered look.

“Because you’ve been wearing that same robe for the past two days. You can’t go anywhere in that.”

She glanced down as if surprised by the reminder. “I won’t take long,” she promised. “I know you need to get to work. Go ahead, if you want to. I can stop by on my own.”

“Not a chance. I’m going with you,” Mack said. He needed to see for himself if his wife intended something more than a kindhearted visit to an employee who’d just suffered a terrible loss.

Susie leveled a knowing gaze straight at him. “I’m not jumping off the deep end,” she told him. “I know I can’t go swooping in and take a little boy away from Sam, no matter how desperate I might be feeling.”

Mack was relieved to hear her express his exact concern. “I’m glad to hear that’s not what you were thinking.”

She touched his cheek. “I love you for caring so much and for worrying about me. I’m sad, but I’m not crazy.”

He pulled her into his arms. “I never, for even a second, thought you were.”

A faint smile tugged at her lips. “It crossed your mind, Mack Franklin. Don’t you dare try to deny it. I honestly can’t blame you. I have been sitting around here wallowing ever since Connor told us we weren’t going to get our baby. I’ll probably wallow some more before I’m done.”

He rested his chin on the top of her head and held her close. “Take all the time you need. And if checking on Sam and his nephew will reassure you somehow, I’m all for it. I imagine he’ll appreciate the gesture. He must be freaking out about now.”

“I hope not,” she said, her expression turning wistful. “I hope he’s on his knees thanking God for the gift he’s been given.”

Mack tucked a finger under her chin. “Suze, if he’s not there just yet, it doesn’t mean he won’t get there. Look how long it’s taken me to believe I could be a decent parent. After growing up with poor examples in my life, I had more doubts than anyone could imagine, but you believed in me. So did your family. Sam needs our support, not somebody waiting in the wings to snatch that child away at the first sign of a misstep.”

“I know that,” she said, indignation in her voice, even as she was careful to avoid his gaze.

Mack wished she were half as convincing as she’d obviously intended to be. Instead, he feared what might happen if she seized on the situation to fill the empty space in her heart. The past few days of despair would seem like a picnic compared to the heartache in store if that happened.

4 (#ulink_6a9783df-0faf-58ec-b8f2-eec73a7582d1)

With Susie still very much on her mind, Carrie walked the few blocks to the house that had been converted into Noah’s medical offices on the ground floor. The upstairs had been turned into a cozy apartment for him, Cait and the baby. Once Cait was finished with her medical training and home for good, it would probably be much too small for a growing family, but for now Grandpa Mick had converted it into a warm, welcoming home. It was too bad, Carrie thought, that her twin was rarely here to enjoy it or her family.

Carrie used her key to the side entrance to the offices and found Noah’s nurse, Wendy Kaine, already there, bustling around in the brightly painted examining rooms, getting ready for another busy day.

“You here to pick up the little man?” Wendy asked with a grin as a wail carried all the way from upstairs. “Good luck. He seems to be expressing himself quite clearly today. He is not a happy little boy.”

Carrie winced at the sound. Noah, who prided himself on soothing even his most difficult young patients, must be at his wit’s end about now. “I could hide out down here till his daddy gets him calmed down,” she whispered to Wendy.

“Coward,” the nurse accused. “March right on up there and show the two of them who’s boss.”

“Noah’s probably trying to make him eat more of that boring baby cereal again,” Carrie said. “Jackson really hates that stuff. I guess I should go up and save him.”

“Him who? Jackson or Noah?” Wendy asked. “I’m sure the baby will appreciate it. Noah, too. I know I will.”

Carrie hurried up the steps, tapped on the door to the living quarters—not that it could likely be heard over the baby’s noisy sobs—and went inside.

Sure enough, Noah had a spoon in his hand, a frustrated expression on his face, and far more cereal on his shirt than could possibly be in the little boy who was waving his fists and had big, fat tears rolling down his chubby cheeks.