Because of the Baby...

Dropping her gaze to the floor, she said, “I’ll be okay on my own.”

* * *

Stubborn, Keaton noted, just like her father. She was determined to make things more difficult for herself rather than let him help. Pushing down his irritation, he said, “Why don’t I put this stuff away while you change?”

“I’ll take care of it.” She drew near and reached out for the bags. “I’m going to put the crib in my room. The master suite is on the opposite side of the house from the other two bedrooms, and I don’t want her so far away.”

Keaton surrendered the purchases and watched her retreat. As soon as she was out of sight he surveyed his surroundings. The house was a split-floor plan, just as she’d described, with bedrooms on opposite sides of an expansive great room/dining room/kitchen combination. The design was modern; the open flow of the place made it nice for entertaining.

The rooms reflected exactly what he’d expected her style to be. Like him, she preferred furniture that was comfortable rather than stylish. She’d always struck him as practical, but she’d chosen dreamy Texas landscapes for her walls.

Books overflowed the shelves that flanked the fireplace, leaving no room for knickknacks. Or family photos. More books were stacked on the coffee table and each of the side tables. Which wasn’t surprising: his every memory of her had a book in it.

One of the most telling aspects of her décor, and where their taste was drastically different, was the lack of electronics of any kind. That included a television, stereo and video equipment. As rustic as his cabin was, one of the first purchases he’d made before moving in was a forty-inch TV. How could she stand not having such an important connection to the outside world?

“Is something wrong?”

Keaton turned his head and spied her coming his way. She’d traded baggy scrubs for snug jeans that hugged her curves and a dark green sweater with a scoop neck that showed a hint of cleavage.

Knowing he was staring at her in mouthwatering fascination, but unable to help himself, Keaton answered her question. “You don’t have a television.”

“No.” She knotted a scarf around her neck, slipped into her coat and gathered up her purse and keys.

“Any particular reason?” With the most seductive aspects of her form hidden from view, Keaton was able to wrestle his thoughts back into line.

“What’s the point?”

“It’s television.”

She focused a sharp gaze on him. “Mindless entertainment. I prefer to read or bake. I like feeling productive.”

“Not everything on TV is mindless. There are educational programs.” After gesturing her to go first through the doorway, Keaton stepped aside so she could lock the front door. “Some interesting stuff.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” she murmured, looking completely unconvinced as he opened the passenger door for her.

His pulse kicked up as she whisked past him. Was his attraction for her going to cause problems? She was already as skittish as a feral cat. If she got any inkling that he craved a taste of her lips, it might ruin the fragile cease-fire they’d established.

Keaton slid behind the wheel. Although he wasn’t much for small talk, he thought engaging Lark in casual conversation would be a good way to build rapport. “You have quite a collection of books. What do you like to read?”

“I alternate between classics and contemporary fiction.”

Hearing her answer, he sighed in frustration. Their taste in books wasn’t going to keep the dialogue flowing easily. “I like biographies and nonfiction.”

She nodded and subsided into silence. Keaton shot her a sideways glance and noticed that she was gripping her purse as if it was a lifeline. He wanted her to relax in his company. If she decided he wasn’t the villain her father made him out to be, he would have an easier time staking his own claim on Grace.

Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, Keaton tried again. “I downloaded a couple books on preemies to my e-reader in an attempt to figure out what to expect with Grace.”

“At this point her gestational age is that of a newborn. She’s still tiny compared to most, but her need for specialized care is done.”

“I realize that I missed being around for her early days, but the books talked about kangaroo care where the baby is held against her mother’s skin to help with her development.”

Lark nodded. “Because she couldn’t leave the NICU, I would go in before and after my shift and hold her like that.” Her voice took on a husky note. “I wish we could have put her and Skye together, but I did the best I could.”

“You did a great job,” he assured her. “She’s thriving and ready to leave the NICU.” Once again it struck Keaton just how much Lark had been dealing with on her own, and irritation with his brother flared anew. Whatever Lark and Grace needed, he would make sure they were taken care of. “But I think you’ve single-handedly shouldered the burden for too long. From everything I’ve read, preemies are more work than an average newborn, which means you’re going to be even more exhausted. Let me help.”

“I would be lying if I told you I was completely convinced of my ability to take care of Grace on my own. Frankly, I’m terrified of failing. I owe it to Skye to do what is best for Grace.”

The level of conviction in Lark’s voice resonated with Keaton.

“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do for Jake.” And in his brother’s absence, he intended to protect Jake’s rights. The Taylors needed to understand that Grace was also a Holt—Keaton was convinced of that, with or without the DNA test—and that they had an equal say in her care.

“We share a common goal, then.” She stared hard at the road before them. “I’m sorry if I’ve been suspicious of your motives, but I have to tell you that all my life I’ve had to listen to how untrustworthy your family is.”

“It’s not true.”

“I’m sure where the rest of the world is concerned it’s not, but when it comes to my family, there’s been so much strife over the years I can’t shake my uneasiness. And then there’s the fact that I haven’t spoken with Skye since she left Royal. I don’t know what happened between her and Jake. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing letting you be involved with Grace.”

He wasn’t sure what had happened between Skye and Lark, but he had a feeling the Taylor-Holt feud had caused the sisters’ relationship to suffer the same the way his and Jake’s had. Whatever had happened, there was no question that Lark bore her sister no lasting ill will. Her dedication to Skye and Grace was unflinching.

“I assure you—” His phone began to ring before he could finish the thought. Not recognizing the number, he keyed the truck’s hands-free option and answered the call. “Keaton Holt.”

“Mr. Holt, this is Sabrina from Dr. Boyle’s office.” The doctor who had administered the DNA test.

Keaton glanced Lark’s way and spied her somber green eyes on him. “What are the results?”

“The kinship index was well over 1.0. You and Grace show a strong chance of being related. That’s a very good indication that your brother is her father.”

Because they hadn’t been able to collect Jake’s DNA, they’d had to test Skye and Keaton for an uncle comparison. It wasn’t as definitive as a paternity test, but the results were strong and should satisfy all but the most skeptical.

“Thank you, Sabrina. Please send the results to me by email.”

“Of course, Mr. Holt. And congratulations.”

Keaton ended the call and waited for Lark’s reaction. They were nearing the furniture store where she intended to get Grace’s crib. In a minute there would be no time for private discussion.

“That’s it, then,” she said, her voice low and without inflection.

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“Grace looks like Jake.”

Her admission annoyed him. “But you fought me on the DNA test.”

“I didn’t want to believe my sister and her baby had been abandoned by your brother.” Her eyes hardened. “How could he be so unreachable? They need him.”

“They have us,” Keaton reminded her. “I’m going to do everything in my power to take care of my niece. And your sister.”

“I spoke with my mother today. She and my dad are busy because of the damaged tree farm and other things.” She ducked her head, her posture defeated. “I think I’m going to need help taking care of Grace.”

He was saddened, but not surprised, that the Taylors had chosen not to pitch in to care for their granddaughter. Skye had been disowned by her parents when she left with Jake. The Taylors were obstinate and inflexible. It was their intolerance that had forced their daughter to run away from Royal and further aggravate an already bitter war between their families.

He wanted to touch Lark’s hand, to reassure her that he was on her side. “You and I are going to make a great team.”

“That remains to be seen,” she remarked, some of her prickliness returning. “I’m dreading the scene when my parents find out you and I are working together to care for Grace.”

If that bothered her, she was really going to hate where his thoughts had taken him over the last twenty-four hours. “You’re doing the right thing for Grace, and that’s what counts.”

“I hate having to choose between being a good daughter and a good sister and aunt.” Lark worried her fingers along her jacket’s zipper. “I suppose you think it’s stupid that a twenty-seven-year-old woman is afraid of upsetting her parents.”

From what he’d experienced of Tyrone Taylor’s temper, Keaton understood Lark’s desire to avoid her father’s wrath.

He guided the truck into the furniture store parking lot and took a spot not far from the front door. Keaton shut off the engine and sat in silence for a long moment. He was overwhelmed by a strong desire to protect her from anyone who made her unhappy, but she wouldn’t appreciate his opinion about her parents even if all he was doing was defending her.

At last he spoke. “We can’t let this rift between our families keep us from doing what is best for Grace.”

“You’re absolutely right.” She nodded fiercely. “Let’s go buy some baby furniture.”

If Keaton had expected to spend the next two hours bored to tears while Lark shopped, he was pleasantly surprised when she went straight to a crib in the middle row and gave it a quick nod.

“I want this one,” she told the sales clerk who approached less than a minute later. “As well as that changing table.”

“I’ll get it all written up. When do you want it delivered?”

“The sooner the better.”

“Let me check the schedule. We have tomorrow afternoon available.”

Lark frowned. “I have to work.”

“That will be fine,” Keaton said.

“But I won’t be home.”

“I’ll meet them.” He could see immediately that she was uncomfortable with the idea. “You might as well get used to having me in your house. I’m going to be taking care of Grace there, after all.”

“You’re right.” Lark shook her head. “I haven’t had to share my space with anyone since buying my house two years ago.”

“You’re never lonely being on your own?”

“Sometimes.” She offered him a tiny smile. “Mostly I love it. I walk in my front door and don’t have to worry about anyone but me.”

“Bringing Grace home is going to change that.”

“I don’t mean it the way it sounds. It’s just that with Skye coming home, my parents are stressed out and things around the hospital have been really challenging since the tornado. I moved from the surgery team to ICU so I could be closer to Skye and am having a hard time with the nurses I’m working with. Everything I say gets twisted around. I feel as if I’m constantly walking on eggshells. It’s exhausting.”

“Sounds like you need a break.”

“I’m taking a week off when Grace comes home.” She gave a happy sigh. “I’ll need it to get her settled in.”

With the crib paid for and the delivery arrangements finalized, Keaton and Lark headed back to his truck. He scanned Lark’s face as she buckled herself in. She looked worn to the bone.

“Can I buy you dinner before I take you home?”

She gave him a weary smile. “I’m too tired to be much company.”

“How about takeout?”

“Are you always this persistent?”

Yes, when something was important to him, and Lark’s well-being was rapidly climbing his priority list. “I don’t feel right taking you home without feeding you.”

Besides, he wanted to spend more time in her company. She intrigued him. They’d been neighbors most of their lives, their families had been at odds with each other for generations. He knew little about her beyond what was common knowledge, but had long harbored a sense that they could be kindred spirits if circumstances were different.

“Obviously you are not going to take no for an answer and I’m too tired to argue.” She leaned her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes. “But just because I gave in this once, don’t think you can get your way every time.”

He felt a smile tug at his lips as he started the car, but refrained from pointing out that ninety-nine percent of the time people did as he indicated because he was right. She’d figure that out soon enough.

Three

“I’m taking Grace home today,” Lark told her comatose sister as she finished up her last shift for a week. “I hope you’re okay with that. She’s ready to leave and I’m her closest relative.”

The closest one that wanted her, anyway.

“I wish we could get in contact with Jake and let him know about you and Grace. It would be nice if you could wake up and tell us where he is.” She paused as her throat closed up.

The hope that Lark had clung to while her sister’s coma had been medically induced had wavered in the days since the doctor had taken Skye off the Pentobarbital and she hadn’t awakened. As a medical professional, Lark was well aware her sister’s chances of ever waking diminished with each day that passed.

A couple deep breaths allowed her to go on. “Since Jake hasn’t shown up yet, Keaton has offered to help me take care of her. We’re going to trade off watching her at my house. Since the tornado demolished the Holt family ranch house, he’s been living in a hunting cabin on the property and I’m sure it’s no place for Grace.”

Lark fussed with the sheet that covered Skye, hating her sister’s stillness. Skye had always been so vivacious. So beautiful. So outgoing and personable. So not like Lark. Sometimes she wondered if they were really sisters or if one of them was the victim of a switched-at-birth scenario.

Skye’s golden hair looked lank and listless against her pale skin. There were shadows beneath her closed eyes. After three months in the hospital the bruises and scrapes that had marred her face and arms were long healed, as was her left earlobe, probably torn during the same impact that had caused her head wound. She’d lost the diamond out of her earring, but the screw back had kept the stud in place. The hospital had given Skye’s jewelry to Lark for safekeeping, and because Skye’s phone and luggage had never been recovered, the earrings were her only possession. The lack of any sort of ring continued to dismay Lark. What had happened between Skye and Jake these last four years?

“I bought her a crib and a changing table,” Lark continued. “Keaton picked up her bedding. All by himself. It’s really cute. Yellow with jungle animals. I set up the furniture in my sitting area, but it’s pretty cramped. For the time being, I’m going to keep her in a bassinet. I think she’ll feel more secure in a smaller space. Eventually I’ll transition her to the crib. Or you can just wake up and take care of that yourself.”

Holding her breath was fruitless and silly, but Lark issued the challenge at least once a day and hoped that her sister would respond.

“I don’t want to fail you,” she whispered. “I did four years ago and I’ve regretted it every day since.” Lark wiped at a trace of moisture at the corner of her eye. “Did I mention what an annoying know-it-all Keaton is?” She needed to change the subject or risk further tears. “He seems to think if he researches something thoroughly enough that he becomes an expert.”

A smile tugged at Lark’s lips as she recalled how he’d looked the first time he held Grace. “And he’s bossy. He decided that we were going to use a diaper service instead of disposable. Didn’t even consult me. Of course, I like the idea that we won’t be loading up the landfill, but I should have at least been given an opportunity to agree.”

The wife of Skye’s nearest neighbor came to visit. Her husband was suffering from sepsis, and his condition had been touch-and-go for the last week. Lark was happy to see he’d turned a corner toward recovery.

“I’d better get going,” she murmured to Skye. “I’m supposed to meet Keaton in a few minutes. I’ll bring Grace by to see you before we leave and then visit in a few days once I’m sure she’s settling in okay and that Keaton is comfortable taking care of her. Before this he hadn’t had any experience with babies, and I think he’s intimidated by how tiny Grace is. But he’s been handling her quite a bit these last few days and I’m surprised how deftly he manages her diaper and dressing her.”

With a last squeeze of Skye’s hand, Lark left the ICU. She waved to her coworkers as she walked by the nurses’ station, but only Jessa gave her a smile and it was quickly gone. As Lark rode the elevator to the pediatric floor, she wasn’t surprised how relieved she felt to have a weeklong break from the ICU nurses.

From the beginning they’d mistaken her shyness for superiority and now did everything in their power to shun her. Lark had a hard enough time opening up to people without having to overcome hostility.

As she stepped out of the elevator, it occurred to her that she’d never felt the least bit shy or uneasy with Keaton. The feud between their families should have made her anxious around him, yet from the moment she’d run into him in the hospital, she felt as if they’d known each other for years. Weird when he was the son of her parents’ enemy. Or maybe she felt the connection more closely because of the bad blood between their families. Heaven knew she’d thought about him often enough. Him and Jake. Especially after Skye ran off with Jake and Lark spent a lot of time wondering what was so special about a Holt that would cause her sister to choose him over her family.

Her pulse kicked up a notch as she approached the NICU, but she didn’t see Keaton. A glance at the clock showed it was fifteen minutes before their agreed-on meeting time. She’d caught a ride to the hospital with Julie. Since she was taking Grace home after her shift, Keaton was giving her and the baby a ride home. When Lark assured him she would be fine on her own, he’d insisted on being there. His steely determination had left her torn between relief and annoyance.

Lark approached Grace’s basinet. She was wearing a pink dress one of the NICU nurses had crocheted. A matching pink headband encircled her head. This wasn’t a normal practice, but nothing about Grace’s situation had been normal thus far and Lark was one of their own.

“Thank you all so much,” Lark said to her colleagues as she blinked back a rush of tears that flooded her eyes. “You’ve taken such great care of Grace.”

“If you need anything or have any questions,” Amy, the senior NICU nurse said, “just call.”

“Thanks.” She’d grown accustomed to leaning on each of these women for support and guidance. It was terrifying to be heading out on her own.

Except she wasn’t alone. Keaton would be there to help her. Her skin prickled. She hadn’t quite gotten used to the idea that he would be spending time in her private space. Buying a house and living alone for the first time in her life had been blissful. No more worrying about saying the wrong thing to her roommate’s friends or hearing their whispers and knowing they were talking about the weird girl who rarely came out of the second bedroom.

“You’re going to do great,” said Nancy. The nurse with the most experience in the NICU, she’d been the one Lark had turned to about her anxiety.

“I don’t know why I’m so emotional.” Lark laughed self-consciously. At the hospital she worked hard to appear confident. Letting anyone glimpse her shy awkwardness might make them question her ability to do her job. “I guess I’m feeling a little overwhelmed.”

“Oh, honey.” Nancy wrapped her arm around Lark’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “With your sister in a coma and this precious baby still so delicate, you’ve got a lot on your plate. Frankly, we’d be surprised if you weren’t feeling that way.”

Through the NICU’s large window, Lark spotted Keaton. Her pulse gave a little leap as their eyes met. He nodded in acknowledgement, his grave expression and compelling gaze easing her turmoil a little. His presence reminded her that she wasn’t alone.

Amy spoke up. “And it looks like Keaton Holt is going to be a big help.” Her tone was sly, matching her wicked grin. “It’s nice to see you two could put aside your families’ differences.”

Had they? Lark wasn’t sure. A lifetime of hostility and accusations stood between them. Just because she and Keaton weren’t at war with each other didn’t mean they were going to get along. He was determined to the point of obstinacy and laser-focused when he decided he wanted something. While it might make him a successful rancher, it made fighting with him an exhausting enterprise. Lark tore her attention away from the tall, imposing ranch owner and redirected her thoughts to the five-pound bundle she held. For Grace’s sake she and Keaton were just going to have to play nice.

Telling her pulse to settle down, Lark cradled Grace in her arms and gazed around the NICU for the last time. Burdened with a well-stocked diaper bag and the responsibility of her delicate charge, she threw back her shoulders and walked the gantlet of smiling nurses who’d gathered to wish her and Grace well.

“How is Grace this morning?” Keaton asked as she approached.

“Doing better than I am.” Lark shifted her grip on the baby as Keaton slid the well-stocked diaper bag off her shoulder, lightening her load. “Thanks.”

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous.” His genuine surprise bolstered her confidence.

“I owe it to Skye to make everything perfect for Grace.”

“It will be.”

The hand he set on her back caused a shiver of awareness to travel up her spine. His touch was at once reassuring and stimulating. She wanted to lean into his strength. The urge gave her much to contemplate. For as long as Lark could remember she’d been a solo act. Growing up, she’d enjoyed solitude. Smart and independent, she’d been neither a leader nor a follower, but one of those quirky types who loved books and was perfectly content doing her own thing. Looking back, Lark wasn’t sure if her isolation had been the cause or the result of her social awkwardness.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to stop by the ICU before we leave the hospital,” Lark said as they walked down the hall to the elevators. “This is Grace’s first time outside the NICU, and I want her to see her mother before we leave.”

Lark didn’t add that she was hoping that Grace’s presence would somehow miraculously awaken Skye from her coma.

“Of course.”

As always, she was discouraged by the sight of her beautiful, vibrant sister lying so still, the only sign of life the beep and electronic readouts coming from the machines that measured her vitals. But Lark’s reaction today was worse than normal. Her throat closed up as misery swamped her. What if Skye never woke up? What if Grace never got to know how amazing her mother was?

“Damn,” she muttered, wiping away the moisture that escaped the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said to Keaton.

“For what? Being sad that your sister is like this? It’s terrible.”

She wanted to smile in appreciation of his understanding, but her facial muscles were controlled by the ache in her heart, so she settled for a nod.

“Skye, this is Grace. You haven’t had a chance to meet her because she’s been too tiny to leave the NCIU. She’s so beautiful. I wish you would open your eyes and see for yourself.” Staying away from the wires that connected Skye to the monitors, Lark fitted Grace into the hollow between her sister’s arm and her side. “She needs her mommy.”