Detective Daddy. Jane ToombsЧитать онлайн книгу.
clear of the whole process in the first place. Like Bruce and Megan.”
“Your brother and sister aren’t married?”
Dan shook his head. “Bruce claims he knows when he’s well off. And Megan says she gets along just fine being single.” After a moment he asked, “Ever play double solitaire?”
She realized the question meant the marriage discussion was at an end. “I know what solitaire is,” she said, “but I didn’t realize two could play it together.”
“Not exactly together. More like opponents, since only one can win. I’ll teach you later, after your nap.”
The word nap made her realize how fast fatigue was once again creeping up on her. She yawned and nodded. Later was fine with her.
Several hours later, Fay had mastered the rules of the game and Dan had beaten her three times out of three.
“Be warned,” she advised. “No one wins against me forever.”
“You haven’t tangled with me before.”
“Hey, when I say no one, I mean no one. Just you wait. If you’ve got a Scrabble board around here someplace I’ll take you three out of three.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it.”
She smiled. He was in for a big surprise.
Just before Fay fell asleep that night, it occurred to her how fast time was passing. Maybe it was because much of her time was spent either nursing or otherwise caring for her baby and a lot of the rest sleeping, but she was surprised to realize that she wasn’t in the least bit bored. Even if the cabin had TV the electricity was out. It was a welcome change not to be reminded of the world’s problems.
The batteries in Dan’s radio had given up the ghost the day after Marie was born, so the outside world couldn’t invade the cabin at all.
They were suspended in a cocoon where time didn’t matter. Of course, like all time-outs, it wouldn’t last, and, in a way, she was sorry.
The next morning, Fay woke to the welcome smell of coffee and found sunlight brightening the room. Fire crackled in the fireplace, a sure sign Dan had placed a new log on. She’d never before realized how a wood fire warmed the spirit as well as the body. She said as much to him.
He raised an eyebrow. “Could it be high-powered consultants don’t have time to spend contemplating a fire?” She scowled at him and he laughed, adding, “We’re out of eggs, out of bread and almost out of peanut butter. The powdered skim milk’s still with us, though, so we’re having oatmeal for breakfast.”
“Is that a tricky way to get me to admit I’m glad I got rescued by a cop who can cook? I’m not such a bad cook myself, as I’ll show you one of these days.”
After making her way to the bathroom and dressing in a pair of her old maternity jeans, she pulled on a sweatshirt and came over to check on Marie, who was sleeping peacefully. Fay’s burst of energy began to fade, but she sat down at the kitchen table rather than retreat to the couch. She simply had to get back to normal.
She dug into the honey-sweetened oatmeal diluted with reconstituted skim milk and ate with relish. “One thing about nursing,” she said. “It keeps a gal hungry.”
“Good thing the storm’s letting up, ’cause that’s the last of the honey, too. Tomorrow we’re reduced to plain white sugar.”
She rolled her eyes. “Horrors.”
“The highway must be completely clear by now, so I figure Megan’ll be sending someone to check on us today.”
“But the bridge is out. Right?” Before he could answer, she said, “Oh, I see what you mean. As soon as whoever it is reaches the far end of the bridge, he’ll discover what the problem is—and voilà—we’ll be rescued.”
“More or less. With luck we’ll be out of here by late tomorrow or sometime the following day. Before we’re reduced to beans and canned stew.”
After Marie’s next nursing, Fay napped and roused when she heard what sounded like a truck horn in the distance. Dan was already donning his jacket.
“Going down to greet our rescuer,” he told her.
After he left, she got up and peered from a window, but the drive curved among the pines, making it impossible to see what was happening. The rain had melted some of the snow and the sun was trying to finish the job. Here in the woods, though, the trees’ shade slowed the melting. She gazed out at what was still a winter scene. In April.
She remembered one of her father’s sayings and repeated it aloud. “Spring’s like love, it can be delayed, but you can’t stop it.”
What was he thinking now? Did he worry about where she was and if she was all right? Probably not, he’d be too busy with his new companion, a widow he’d met at Archer’s senior center. Fay hadn’t met her yet. Hadn’t wanted to. Didn’t want to.
Restless, she sat at the table and wished she had her laptop computer with her. She hadn’t brought it along, figuring she wouldn’t be using it at her aunt’s. If only she had her computer and a place to plug into a phone line that worked, she would at least know what was going on in the world. Not that it really mattered at the moment. But everything you wanted to know could be found on the Internet.
Well, not exactly everything. Advice might be available on the Net, but advice frequently didn’t work when dealing with tricky human relationships. Love, for example. She’d never been quite sure she’d ever actually been in love. Her father’s homily said love couldn’t be stopped. Okay, but how could you tell when it finally got to you?
The front door opened and Dan stuck his head in. “I’ve arranged for the bridge to be fixed. Frank’s plowed from the highway to the far side of the bridge and he thinks they can shore it up tomorrow morning. I’m going to plow the drive from here to the bridge now so we’ll be set to go once the bridge is safe to cross over.” Before she could answer, he was gone.
Frank must be the rescuer Megan had sent, Fay told herself. So tomorrow they would be leaving the cabin, all three of them. She sighed, wondering why she didn’t feel more elated at the rescue. Probably because she felt so tired. The mere thought of trying to drive home exhausted her. First she would have to arrange for a car, because Dan had said hers was pretty well totaled and would need to be towed. He’d told her he would take care of all that, but she knew the drive would be her responsibility.
Marie began to fuss and, as Fay changed her and settled with her on the couch to nurse, she considered the idea of heading on to Duluth instead. It wasn’t any farther from here than going home, and there she’d have her aunt to help her, while in Archer she had no one.
When Marie was satisfied and had been burped, Fay laid her across her lap and studied the baby’s tiny features. She envisioned someday telling her daughter the circumstances of her birth. She could end by saying Marie’s blue eyes reminded her of the wonderful man who’d saved both their lives.
Nothing about the baby reminded her of poor Ken, but she thought Marie looked a bit like baby pictures she had of her mother, though the blond hair was Dad’s and so were the blue eyes.
When she got to Duluth, she’d ask her aunt who she thought the baby resembled. If she made it that far. Fay shook her head. Of course she would. Tired or not, she had to.
Though cheered somewhat by the thought of being with her aunt, it didn’t make her feel any stronger. What if Dr. Bruce found something seriously wrong with her when he examined her tomorrow? No! She wouldn’t worry about the day that hadn’t yet come. After all, this was her first child. For all she knew, her fatigue was normal.
When Dan came in through the back door, he shed his snow gear and found Fay propped up on the couch, the baby asleep in her lap. He eased himself down next to her, saying “We’re all set.”
He