Another Chance for Daddy

Along with the love she still felt for Clay, she experienced sorrow and regret, but overriding it all was relief that their battles were over. She had a new life now and soon she would be sharing it with calm, predictable Barry in a permanent home of her own.

She cast Clay a guilty glance. She knew she should have told him about her engagement to Barry, and she certainly should have told Jimmy. It was pure cowardice on her part that she hadn’t done so, but she hadn’t wanted to argue with him again. They’d argued anyway, and look what had come of it.

Becca started when the phone rang and she grabbed it quickly so it wouldn’t wake Clay. He stirred, though, and she picked up the phone and moved as far from him as possible. Cupping the receiver close to her mouth, she answered in a near whisper. “Hello?”

“Rebecca?” Barry Whelker’s voice came over the line.

“Barry,” she said in relief. “I’m so glad you called. How did you know where to find me?”

“I couldn’t get you at your house, and there was no answer at your mother’s, so I got your neighbor’s number from directory assistance. They told me what had happened. How are Jimmy and Clay?”

Becca smiled, feeling steadied by the even tone of his voice. Trust Barry to show his resourcefulness in tracking her down and his thoughtfulness by calling her right away. Such thoughtfulness was one of the things she found most appealing about him, both as a boss and a fiancé.

“They’re going to be all right,” she said. While Barry listened and made concerned sounds, she rapidly ran through a description of Jimmy’s and Clay’s injuries.

Immediately, Barry offered to come home and help out, but Becca convinced him that her mother and sisters were on hand. There was no need for him to cut short his visit to his family and return before Monday.

“But you’ll need my help,” he said.

“No, really, Barry,” she said, casting a glance at Clay. She could just imagine what her ex-husband would have to say if her fiancé showed up to help her and her family care for him. “It might be better if I don’t see you until I’ve decided what I’m going to do. Clay will need someone to take care of him for a few days at least, and I don’t know where that’s going to be....”

“But he won’t want me around,” Barry finished for her.

“Yes, I’m sorry, but it’s true,” she admitted. “Clay isn’t the easiest of men,” she said, dropping her voice even more, though her ex-husband still showed no sign of waking up.

“Which is why you’re marrying me.”

Barry’s tone wasn’t smug, or triumphant, merely matter-of-fact, which bothered Becca somehow. “Yes, well, that’s true,” she answered. “But it’s not the only reason I’m marrying you.”

Barry was silent and she knew that he was thinking about what they both knew—that she didn’t love him the way she had loved Clay. She also knew he was too tactful to point that out. She could think of no reply.

Barry finally broke the silence by saying he would call again later and that he would be home in two days.

Becca hung up and sat for several minutes staring at the phone. She felt as though she had somehow disappointed him, but what she had said was true. At the best of times, Clay wasn’t an easy man. With multiple fractures and a concussion, he was going to be impossible. She and Barry would soon be sharing the “for better or for worse” of marriage. As far as she could see, there was no reason to start out “for worse.”

Quietly setting the phone on the nightstand, Becca turned to look at Clay. It seemed as though she could barely see the movement of his chest as he breathed and she thought of all the times she had worried and feared he was going to be injured on a job site. He’d never received so much as a scratch. Now he’d nearly been killed backing out of her driveway. Shakily, she sat down beside the bed and resumed her vigil.

As she watched, his eyes fluttered open, skimmed over her blankly, then closed again. After a moment, they opened again and stared at her for several seconds. A chill of fear washed through her. It was as if he didn’t recognize her, she realized as he drifted off again.

She thought suddenly of how he’d greeted her when he’d momentarily regained consciousness after the wreck. He’d called her “babe,” though he’d never been one for endearments. It touched her now and tears filled her eyes.

When he stirred again, she stood, bent over him, and rested her fingers lightly on his cheek. This time his eyelids snapped open and he focused on her with a clear and lucid gaze. Recognition leaped into his eyes, then joy such as she had never seen filled his face as he looked at her, studied her expression, then seemed to delve deeper into her eyes. Then he gazed at each of her features, lingering on her mouth, the hair loosening from her French braid and falling around her face, and then the curve of her cheek. For an instant, it was as if he had been stripped of all pretense.

The pleasure and relief on his face made her think of a time they’d gone exploring in a cave that Clay had sworn was safe. She had twisted her ankle and he’d had to carry her out. They’d both been overjoyed when they had stumbled outside and found light waiting on the other side.

Becca shivered at the memory. She didn’t know exactly why she had connected that with the look on Clay’s face just now.

Heat washed through Becca, flooding her with the same joy she saw in him.

She was reaching for his hand when something in his gaze seemed to click into place. All expression faded. His eyes swept the room and came back to her.

“Becca,” he said in a voice that cracked. He tried to clear his throat. “Can I have some water?”

“Of course.” She hurried to get him a glass of water, then eased his head up so he could sip it from a straw.

Satisfied, he turned his lips from the drink and said, “What are we doing here?”

She opened her mouth to answer him, but unexpectedly, tears filled her eyes again. Her lips trembled and the tears poured out. “I’m...I’m sorry, Clay....” She didn’t know if she was apologizing for crying or for being responsible for his injuries.

“Are those tears for me?” he asked in a faint voice. “I haven’t seen you cry since you....”

Becca’s eyes snapped to his, unexpected grief washing them. There was no need for him to go on. Either of them could have finished the thought.... “Since your last miscarriage.” Becca took a breath and looked away. This wasn’t the time to think about that.

Besides, the truth was, she had also cried plenty over Clay in the past couple of years, but she’d never let him see her at it. Even now, she willed her tears away.

Becca fought to control the tremble in her voice and lips. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been run over,” he said dryly, looking at her from beneath the edge of his bandage.

“Do you remember what happened?”

“Yeah, I was backing out,” he answered in a grim tone. “And I got hit. Did you get the number of the truck that hit me?”

She gave him a rueful look. “It wasn’t a truck. It was my neighbor’s teenage son in his Monte Carlo.”

“That settles it. We’re never letting Jimmy....” With a groan of shock, he tried to struggle up onto his elbow. “Jimmy! Where...?”

Her hands sprang out to keep him from climbing from the bed. Even with the huge cast on his leg and the supporting sling suspended above, he would have tried it. “He’s all right,” she insisted, urging him back. Quickly, she told him what Dr. Kress had said about Jimmy. “He wants to see you, though,” she concluded. “I told him he could if you felt up to it.”

Clay gave her a fierce glance. “Of course I’m up to it. He needs to be reassured.”

“I’ll go see if I can bring him here.”

It took her a while to find Dr. Kress and get him to agree to let her take Jimmy in a wheelchair to see his dad. Finally, the doctor approved the idea saying it would do Jimmy good and he might continue to rest if he wasn’t worried about his dad.

“In fact,” he suggested, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Now that I think about it, I don’t see any reason the two of them can’t share a room until Jimmy is released.”

“Share a room?” Becca asked, eyeing him warily.

“Sure. This is a small hospital, not many patients right now, we can accommodate a boy and his dad. Besides,” he added gruffly. “It’ll be easier on you than running back and forth between the two rooms.”

Becca didn’t point out that she hadn’t really intended to run back and forth. Since she was no longer Clay’s wife, she didn’t feel responsible to watch out for him. He was an independent man—boy, was he independent—and he didn’t like being coddled. She didn’t say it, though, because she knew it wouldn’t quite ring true. She had to focus on Jimmy, though. In spite of her own reluctance to move her son, she knew it would be the best thing for him.

She nodded her agreement and within a few minutes, Jimmy was being wheeled through the corridors to Clay’s room with her and her family trailing along behind. -

Mary Jane, Shannon, and Brittnie each said a few words to Clay, kissed Jimmy good-night and slipped away, leaving. Becca to settle into a chair and ponder exactly how this had come about.

“When’s Dad gonna wake up?”

Becca tried to ignore the whining tone in her son’s voice though it was beginning to annoy her greatly.

“He’ll wake up when he’s ready,” she answered for at least the tenth time.

“When can we go home?”

Dr. Kress wanted to check Jimmy once more before releasing him, but as the doctor on call at Tarrant General, he’d been summoned to deliver a baby. She didn’t feel like explaining all that to Jimmy, though, so she just said, “When your dad wakes up.”

“Mom, I need a drink,” Jimmy went on, not even pausing for breath between one demand and the next.

Becca looked at her son with a growing mixture of frustration, amusement, and despair. She knew he was playing his injuries, minor though they were, for all they were worth. She was delighted that his twenty-four hours in the hospital were almost over so she could take him home. Her only hope was that she wouldn’t be tempted to lock him in his room when she got him there and throw away the key. He had been demanding and petulant all morning, exactly the opposite of his usually sunny nature.

“You just had a drink,” she said, moving to stand beside his bed. She was exhausted, having slept very little the night before. Her family had insisted she go home and rest and Brittnie had stayed with her, but she hadn’t fallen asleep until far past midnight.

“I need another one,” Jimmy said.

She picked up the small plastic pitcher and started to pour water into a glass.

“I want orange soda.”

“No.”

Jimmy stiffened in his bed and his bottom lip popped out. “But my head hurts.”

“James Harold,” Clay spoke up from the other bed. “Stop annoying your mother. You don’t need another drink. Now be quiet.”

Becca glanced up and Jimmy subsided as he, too, looked at his father in surprise. She had thought Clay was still sleeping, as he had been most of the day—though she didn’t know how he had slept through Jimmy’s demanding bouts of whining.

She turned to him, noting the improved color of his skin and the brightness in his eyes. “Well, good afternoon,” she said, cautiously.

One corner of Clay’s mouth eased up. “I haven’t slept this late since the last time I had a hang....” He glanced at Jimmy. “...nail,” he finished, and Becca laughed at the unexpected silliness of his remark.

Jimmy scooted out of his bed and hurried over to get as close as possible to Clay and pepper him with questions. “How come you didn’t wake up, huh, Dad? You been sleepin’ all day.”

“Not all day, son. They keep waking me to make sure this bump on my head didn’t really hurt my thick skull. Looks like you’ve got a bump, too.”

“Yeah.” Jimmy grinned suddenly. “We’re twins.”

Clay chuckled and the sound seemed to calm Jimmy. He asked his father more questions and though Becca knew his head must be pounding with pain, Clay answered, reassuring him that they would go skiing another time. Becca wondered uncomfortably how much he remembered of their argument yesterday just before he’d been struck by Joey’s car. She didn’t relish the thought of opening that discussion again, but she knew Clay well enough to know that once he felt better, he would pursue it like a bloodhound.

Right now, though, her greatest problem was the one she’d been wrestling with since the day before. Where was Clay going to go to recover once he was ready to leave the hospital?

She walked over to the bed and gently urged Jimmy away. “Honey, Dad needs to rest. His head hurts, too, just like yours has been hurting.”

Clay looked up at her and she felt a tingle of surprise when she noted how the bandage that slanted across his brow gave him a rakish appearance. And somehow, the expression in his green eyes seemed more...relaxed.

“I actually feel pretty good,” he said, then lifted himself onto his elbow. “Ah, maybe a little weak, though.” He lay back down.

Becca stared. She’d never heard him admit to a weakness before.

He grinned at her. “I’m glad you’re here, Becca.”

Becca’s jaw sagged. “You’re kidding.”

“It’s good to see you.”

She gave him a long look. “Clay, I think you need to rest a little more.”

“I feel fine.”

He certainly looked fine, considering the shape his leg was in, not to mention his head—and the black eye that was going to be spectacular. In fact, if he wasn’t so banged up, she would think he looked better than he had in a long time. There was a light in his eyes she hadn’t seen in.... She couldn’t remember ever seeing it before, and a teasing smile tilted his mouth.

Becca felt her surprise settle into disturbing warmth that thumped down to rest in the pit of her stomach. Unconsciously, she folded her hands at her waist as if to hold it there.

Off balance, the next thing she knew, Jimmy was tugging at her skirt and saying, “Dad’s awake so we can all go home now.”

She blinked down at his happy face. “What?”

“You said we were waitin’ for Dad to wake up so we could go home. So let’s go.”

“Jimmy, I meant we were waiting so you could see him before I take you home. He can’t leave the hospital yet. He’s not well enough.”

“Oh. Then we can come back and get him tomorrow.” Jimmy scurried back to Clay’s bed and gave it a quick examination. “Are you gonna need a special bed like this when we get home?”

Clay looked at Becca’s stunned face, then back to his son. “No. I’ll be able to use a regular bed.”

“Like Mom’s?”

“Just like Mom’s.”

The little boy nodded with satisfaction. “Then we’ll come back and get you tomorrow and take you home to live with us again.”

CHAPTER THREE

“SON, that sounds like a great idea.” Clay nodded thoughtfully at Jimmy’s suggestion.

“Wha...at?” The word wheezed from Becca’s throat as she stared at him in astonishment. “What does?”

“For me to come live with you again,” Clay said, settling his back against the pillows with an air of decisiveness. How he managed that little trick as pale and weak as he was, Becca didn’t know. She did know that she was rapidly losing her grip on the situation.

She held up her hands as if she was trying to stop a speeding bus. “No, Clay. No. First of all, I can’t imagine that you’d want to....”

“Then you imagine wrong. I’d love to. Thanks for the invitation.” The devil had the nerve to wink his unblackened eye at her!

Wink? Clay? She stared at him for a second, completely losing her train of thought. She had never seen him wink. He wasn’t a winking type of man.

He grinned at her as if he was fully aware of how he’d thrown her off her argument.

Becca brought her scattered thoughts together. “No, Clay.” She hardened her voice. “We’ll find someone to take care of you, and....”

“But, Mom,” Jimmy piped up. “Don’t you want Dad to come stay with us?”

Becca looked down at her son’s puzzled face.

Clay reached out and drew Jimmy to him. “Yeah, Mom, don’t you want me to come stay with you?” He spoke to her over their son’s head and Clay’s eyes were as pitifully soulful as a basset hound’s.

Becca opened her mouth, but only a squeak came out. She was too stunned to offer explanations to her son, or to form words to put Clay in his place. In the seven years she had known him, he had never been manipulative. He had simply told her calmly and decisively how things were going to be done. Now, however, he seemed to be metamorphosing right before her eyes. Where was this appalling change coming from?

“I know you have to work,” he continued when she didn’t break her stunned silence. “But I won’t be much trouble. Once the doctor lets me have crutches, I’ll be handy to have around the house.”

“Handy?” Her voice squeaked as it shot up. “In what way?”

“I can help out.” He gave her an even look, but mischief lurked in his eyes. “Do things around the house for you.”

“On crutches.” Now her voice flattened out.

Clay shrugged. “Maybe I can learn to knit.”

“Are you kidding?”

“I could learn,” he insisted. He lifted his hands and turned them over, front to back as if offering them for her inspection. “You know I’ve always been good with my hands.”

She waved her fingers in the air as if batting his hands away. “I meant, you’ve got to be kidding about this whole idea. We can’t do this. It would never work.”

“Never more serious in my life.” His gaze was direct and steady, but now there was an edge of challenge there that she couldn’t ignore. “And there’s no reason in the world it wouldn’t work.” His gaze slid to Jimmy, who was looking back and forth from one to the other of them. “We have every reason to make it work.”

A chill ran over her. She had the feeling they were no longer talking about a temporary stay.

“Clay,” she finally managed, though she knew she was floundering and forming her arguments badly. “How serious was that bump you got on the head?”

The challenge died from his eyes and he smiled slightly. “Not so serious that my judgment is clouded. In fact, things are more clear than they’ve been in a long time.”

“That’s a matter of opinion,” Becca muttered.

Clay didn’t answer. He waited silently for the force of his will to win her agreement.

“You have no right to do this.”

“Maybe not,” he answered quietly. “But Jimmy does, and having me come stay is important to him. Can’t you see that?”

“Of course I can,” she said, with a sour look that told him she didn’t need his help in understanding Jimmy. She knew he was right, but she didn’t like the way he was handling this, using their son to manipulate her agreement out of her.

She gave her head a swift shake, rattling her good sense back into place. Reaching out, she pulled Jimmy into her arms, then knelt before him and gave his rounded cheek a light kiss. “Yes, honey, your dad can come stay with us.” Lifting her head, she looked her ex-husband right in the eye. “Until he can take care of himself.”

Clay answered with a smile of his own that had her narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

“So Jimmy has some idea that he and his dad and I are going to be a family again. With me taking care of Clay until he’s better.” Becca gave her fiancé a distressed look, which he met with calm brown eyes.

“And you hadn’t anticipated that?”

“No, of course not.” Reaching out, she lined her silverware up with the edge of the table, then folded and refolded the napkin in her lap.

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