The Late Bloomer's Baby

He’d come to Augusta to check on Isabel, just as he’d said, but he’d known all along that he intended to speak to Callie if he saw her. He’d had divorce papers ready for over three months, ever since his first date with his chief’s niece last New Year’s Eve.

Dating LeeAnn felt wrong since he wasn’t legally free, but he’d hated the idea of sending the papers to Callie by courier. He’d made plans to fly to Denver several times, but something had always come up. On one of his free weekends, LeeAnn had invited him to her mother’s birthday celebration. Another time he’d been called in off-duty to help locate a four-year-old girl who had vanished from her grandmother’s backyard. Often the end of his shift didn’t correspond with the end of his call-out, and he used his off hours to recuperate.

Maybe he’d avoided the task for other reasons. After loving a woman like Callie, dating again was difficult. But it was time to move on and he knew it.

Ethan would talk to Callie long enough to assure himself of her well-being, then he’d tell her about the papers and make arrangements for the two of them to meet with his lawyer. He’d pay for the whole shebang, and if she asked for anything he’d be generous. Callie had nothing to lose, and LeeAnn would be pleased.

He glanced in the rearview mirror, ensuring that Callie was still behind him as he drove up to the house.

Set back from the road about thirty yards, the old Blume homestead was surrounded by lush trees and bushes. Ella had cherished her privacy. Today, the house also sported a lonely pile of discards near the ditch. A floral sofa rested atop a mattress, which was piled on top of quite a few other ruined items. Ethan could imagine the destruction inside. Isabel must be very shaken.

After unfastening his seat belt, Ethan pulled his checkbook from the glove box. He could at least offer Callie’s sister some financial help. Since he wouldn’t need to fly to Denver to talk to Callie about the divorce, he could put that money to better use.

Two car doors slammed, then Ethan watched the two older children emerge from Callie’s car and race toward the house. Callie followed, lugging the youngest boy and the diaper bag.

Ethan opened the door, stepped out and slipped the checkbook into a hip pocket. It hurt to see how easily Callie balanced the smallest child on her hip. She’d wanted children—she’d ached for them. Babysitting must be tough for her.

Callie didn’t glance backward at the sound of his car door slamming, and she appeared to be in an awful hurry. She opened the storm door and the inside door for the kids, followed them inside and closed the doors behind her.

Ethan stopped in the drive. Boorish behavior was Callie’s biggest pet peeve. Perhaps she’d forgotten he was right behind her and planning to come inside.

Or maybe she didn’t want to see him.

He stepped onto the porch and knocked on the storm door. Callie couldn’t have gone far. If she didn’t answer, he was prepared to let himself in. Hell, he’d bust the door down if necessary. And he wouldn’t leave until he learned why his normally cool wife was acting crazy. In the past, she’d lost her composure only when they were arguing.

Or when they were in bed.

The memory sent a rush of want through his body, and left him standing on Isabel’s porch feeling half-turned-on.

Sweet mercy. He couldn’t think about Callie that way.

He opened the storm door and scanned the interior door for weak places to bust through. Before he could knock, however, Isabel answered. Her hair had fallen from a bun and she wore a stained sweatshirt.

After they’d greeted each other, she stood smiling at him, but she didn’t come out and she kept her body wedged in the narrow crack.

He wasn’t surprised. Apparently, Callie’s sisters thought she needed their protection. “You’re not going to ask me in, are you?”

“Uh, no.”

He pulled out his checkbook. “I’m going to help someone in this town, even if it’s just to donate money. I’d prefer it if that someone was you.”

“Oh.” Isabel blinked. “You don’t have to give me money, Ethan. I’ll be okay.”

“It’s your choice,” he said. “I’ll donate three hundred bucks to you personally, or I’ll let the Salvation Army distribute it however they see fit.”

“Oh. Well, great. I’m sure they can use the help. Thanks.” Isabel smiled.

“I’d rather help someone I know,” he said. “And if you take my money, I’ll get some of my work buddies to help with a larger donation for charity.”

Isabel still seemed unconvinced, so he raised his eyebrows and pointed his thumb over his shoulder. “A few hundred dollars might replace that sofa out there.”

She sighed heavily. “All right.”

“I need a pen.” Ethan had a pen, but he hoped this latest ploy would get him past the door.

“Just a minute.” When Isabel shut the door in his face, Ethan realized she intended to find a pen and bring it out. He pushed the door open and stepped inside. When he heard murmurs overhead, he realized that Callie and the kids must be hiding in Isabel’s attic storeroom.

That was fine. Strange, but fine. They wouldn’t stay up there long. Callie wouldn’t want the children to be frightened in the dark, stuffy space.

As he waited for Isabel, Ethan wandered into the living room. It was devoid of furniture, the carpeting had been stripped and the walls showed a dingy line of discoloration from the water. The wet wallboard would need to be replaced. The insulation, too.

When Isabel returned, she acted surprised to discover him inside. “Oh! Ethan, you’re in here,” she said in a loud voice that bounced off the bare walls.

He’d been announced, and he didn’t care. He frowned at Isabel and waved a hand at the room’s mess. “I’m sorry about all this, Izzy.”

“It’s hard to look at, isn’t it? Anything below three feet was ruined by the water, including every single thing in the basement. Mom’s old textbooks, the boxes of Christmas things.” She smiled sadly. “Remember that old cedar chest?”

Yes, he did. Ella had refused to tell Callie and her sisters about the old piece, so they believed it had belonged to their father. “Sure I do,” he said.

Isabel shrugged. “It came unglued. The pieces floated everywhere.”

Ethan took her hand briefly, offering a consoling squeeze. “Save the pieces,” he said. “It could probably be repaired.”

She offered him the pen. “Maybe.”

As he wrote, he asked, “What are you working on now?”

Isabel sighed. “We’re ready to tear out the wallboard and hire a crew to replace it.”

At least she was on the right track. “You have people helping you, then?”

“I have plenty of help.”

Isabel shot a glance at the ceiling, and Ethan knew Callie was behind her odd behavior. The Blume sisters stuck together no matter what. If he wanted to talk to Callie, he was going to have to entice her from the attic. Isabel wasn’t likely to help.

Ethan ripped out the check and handed it to Callie’s sister. “Excuse me, Izzy,” he said, moving into the hallway.

“Callie, come down,” he shouted toward the ceiling. “I know you’re in the attic and I’m not leaving until we talk.”

Silence. He returned his attention to the blushing Isabel, then crossed the hall to stare up the narrow stairway. “Callie, you’re being ridiculous.”

Silence. He rested a foot on the bottom step. “I can climb the confounded stairs, Cal.”

He heard the hiss of whispering voices, then the girl and boy came down, followed by Callie with the baby. She stopped at the bottom of the steps, ignoring Ethan and bouncing the little boy in her arms as if she was soothing him.

But the baby was already chortling. While Callie scowled.

Hoping to distract her, he gave the little boy a huge smile that prompted one in response. “Cute kid,” he said.

Callie’s eyes widened, then she glanced at the baby’s face and nodded.

Ethan sighed. He couldn’t talk to Callie if they spent the day admiring some baby.

“May I?” When he reached out to take the little boy, Callie held on tight.

“Aw, come on,” Ethan said, smiling at Isabel. “Would your boyfriend mind if I held the little tyke for a minute?”

“I doubt it.” Isabel shot a worried glance at Callie. “It’s okay,” she said, lifting her brows. “Ethan can hold the baby.”

Gray eyes turbulent, Callie handed the kid across.

Ethan talked softly to the baby as he crossed the room with Callie on his heels. He handed the little boy to Isabel, then whipped around and grabbed Callie’s wrist. “Let’s go somewhere to talk.”

She yanked her arm free, then turned around and walked out the front door.

After Ethan had followed his furious, sputtering wife out to the porch, he realized that her thin cotton T-shirt would do little to protect her from the chill.

She’d always been absentminded about dressing for the weather. He’d always enjoyed taking care of her. “Don’t you have a jacket?” he asked.

“No.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “Let’s make this quick. I’m freezing.”

He was tempted to offer her his shirt, even if that meant going bare-chested. Undressing in front of her might be a problem, though. If she looked at him in a certain way, he might wonder what she was thinking. Hell, he might hope she was thinking about sex. Seeing her in his shirt might not help, either. She’d worn his shirts after sex when they were together. Sometimes during sex.

He had to keep his mind on his goal—which was to tell her about the divorce.

He couldn’t do that yet.

He’d thought he could greet Callie and her sisters as if they were no more than old friends, but reality had reminded him of some complicated feelings—protectiveness, desire, affection.

Rather than callously dropping his news, he wanted to let her get used to seeing him again. Apparently, he could use a little adjustment time himself.

He would tell her, though. Very soon.

Right now, he wanted to find out why she’d insisted on coming here to Isabel’s house with him when she was so set on avoiding him. “What’s going on, Callie?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You don’t want me here at all, do you?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She glared at him. “We shouldn’t be around each other at all. Not even to talk privately.”

“We’re still married, Cal. Why not talk?”

“We have a certificate. We’re not exactly married,” she said. “You walked out on me, remember?”

Okay, that was true. But they were still married. Their strange situation had entered his thoughts at odd times over the past two years, causing near panic. He wasn’t the type to leave things undone.

He didn’t want to have this conversation on Isabel’s front porch, but he could at least start them talking. “I walked out on a failing relationship.”

“There you go.”

Callie didn’t meet his eyes. Ethan stepped nearer and realized she was watching someone park a battered pickup behind the little white Mazda she was driving.

A redheaded man got out and walked up the drive. At first, Ethan had the blinding thought that the slightly plump man was Callie’s boyfriend, and the cause of her irrational behavior.

But then the guy said, “Hi, Callie. No one was home at Josie’s apartment. Did Isabel bring my kids here?”

“They’re in the house,” Callie said.

Aha! The redhead was Isabel’s boyfriend. Ethan wondered at his sense of relief. He still cared about Callie and always would, but he didn’t expect her to live the life of a hermit.

He didn’t intend to do that. He had LeeAnn, who had made her readiness for romance quite apparent. His marriage had failed. He should move on, and be happy for Callie.

“Wait there for one minute until I’m finished here, and I’ll go get the kids,” Callie hollered at the other man. Then she shot a glance at Ethan and added, “All of them.”

Man, she’d sounded bossy. Isabel’s friend stopped immediately and stood perusing the pile of junk at the end of the drive.

Callie returned her attention to Ethan, her eyes huge. “Okay, you win,” she said, speaking quickly. “I’ll meet you somewhere later and we can talk.”

“I could come in and help.”

“No. You have to go now.”

For whatever reason, she was rushing him off. Ethan liked the idea of meeting her later, though. He could use the time to think about how to approach the subject of divorce. That shouldn’t be hard after a two-year separation, but it was. Apparently, on both sides.

“Tonight at, say, ten o’clock, I’ll meet you at Mary’s Bar,” she said. “You know the place, out off Ohio Street?”

How could he forget it? Before they were married, he and Callie had spent hours making out in the bar’s back parking lot. “All right. Mary’s at ten.”

Callie paused and frowned as if she intended to say more, but then she just tugged on his sleeve. “Come on.”

“What are we doing?”

She started down the drive. “Walking to your car.”

He laughed. Did she expect her boyfriend to show up? Maybe she didn’t want to explain Ethan’s presence to her new love interest. Come to think of it, maybe the guy didn’t know she’d been married.

As much as the thought bothered him, Ethan knew he was probably right. A jealous boyfriend would explain her bizarre behavior. “All right, but you’d better show up,” he said as he opened his car door and sank inside. “I know where to find you if you don’t.”

“I’ll be there.”

Ethan was much happier to hear those words than he should have been.

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