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A Baby by Christmas. Linda WarrenЧитать онлайн книгу.

A Baby by Christmas - Linda Warren


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      Ben just stared at him.

      Jake glanced down at the Lego blocks. “What are you building?”

      No answer.

      “It’s been a while since I played with these. Are you making a house? A car?”

      Still nothing, but Ben’s eyes never wavered from Jake’s face.

      “How about a tractor? I know a lot about tractors. I have several on my farm. Would you like to build a tractor?”

      Ben held out a green Lego.

      At the unexpected gesture, Jake felt exquisite joy. Ben was responding to him. He took the block, so desperately wanting to touch his son, to hold him. Instead he picked up several more and started working on a tractor. Ben continued to hand him pieces and Jake thought maybe Ben should help. “Okay.” He smiled. “Your turn.”

      Ben tried to snap two green ones together, but couldn’t because he didn’t have them lined up correctly. Jake resisted the urge to help. In deep concentration, Ben worked until finally he’d figured out how to join the pieces.

      “That’s great!” Jake gushed, feeling as if Ben had split the atom or something equally important.

      After that, they continued fitting pieces together until they had a strange-looking tractor. “I don’t know, son, but I think I’ve forgotten the finer points of building a tractor.”

      Ben held the model against his chest, his eyes huge.

      “Next time I come to see you, I’ll bring you a toy tractor. Would you like that?”

      Ben nodded.

      Jake’s pulse accelerated. Ben understood what he was saying.

      “Mr. McCain, it’s time to go,” Ms. Woods spoke up.

      No. He couldn’t leave his son, but he knew he had no choice. He wanted to take Ben in his arms and hold him, but he was afraid it might frighten the child. It took all the strength he had to resist.

      Jake got to his feet. “I’ll be back, Ben,” he said, and he noticed the look on Ms. Woods’s face. Surely she wouldn’t try to keep him away from Ben.

      The Fosters came into the room and Jake and Ms. Woods left. Outside, Ms. Woods said, “I wish you hadn’t told Ben you were coming back.”

      “Why?”

      “Because it’s a very sticky situation.”

      “And it will get stickier if you deny me access to my son.”

      “I’m not doing that,” she insisted.

      Jake raked a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I’m a bit overwhelmed at the moment, but I want to spend as much time as I can with my son. I realize, though, that I have to clear that with you.”

      Carmen relaxed. “Yes, and I appreciate your cooperation.”

      He drew a hard breath, trying to be patient, accommodating, anything to gain time with Ben. “I don’t understand what the Fosters have against me. Why wouldn’t they encourage a connection to Ben’s father?”

      “They’re still dealing with Mrs. Carr’s death, so please try to be understanding and respect their privacy.”

      Jake tilted his head up toward the smoky blue sky. It was the middle of October and fall was in the air with a robust feeling of cooler temperatures. They wanted him to understand. Did they realize what it was like for him? To have his whole world torn apart? Then be expected to let strangers raise his boy—his own flesh and blood. “When’s the hearing?”

      “A date hasn’t been set, but since you’ve been located, we’re expecting it to be soon.”

      “Then CPS will tell a judge who should raise Ben?”

      “Yes.”

      “How can you do that when you’re hesitating to give me time with Ben?” He held his hand up when she started to speak. “You don’t know if I can take care of my son or love him or nurture him. You can’t write an honest report unless you give me a chance.”

      “This would be so much easier if you and your wife weren’t separated.”

      Jake was taken aback. “Are you saying I can’t take care of my son because I’m a man?”

      “I’m saying Ben needs a loving, stable environment and I’m not sure you can provide that.”

      “I see,” he said slowly. “Then there’s only one recourse left.”

      “What’s that?”

      “To show you that I can provide that.” He moved toward his truck. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Set it up. Same as today.”

      “Mr. McCain, that’s very arrogant and I—”

      “Do it,” he interrupted. “I’ll wait for your call.”

      Jake drove away feeling as if he’d won this battle, but the war was far from over. There was no doubt that he wanted his son. All those fears inside him had dissipated when he saw the face of his child. Now he’d fight for him, because Jake knew in his heart what was best for Ben—to be raised by his father.

      He had to learn about Ben’s medical problems, how to care for him. That would take time, but he could do it. He felt confident about that now.

      THE DRIVE HOME WAS LONG but he hardly noticed. He thought about Ben…and Elise. She kept intruding even though he tried not to think about her. He wanted to tell her about Ben, to share this with her, but that wasn’t going to happen, so he’d better get accustomed to the idea of being a single father.

      As he neared Marlin, his cell phone rang. He picked it up and heard the voice that had been humming through his head.

      “Jake, it’s Elise,” she said. “You left some things and I have them ready for you to pick up.”

      Getting rid of all the evidence that he’d ever lived in her house, he thought, but he replied, “I’m not far from your place. I can stop by now and get them.” He was such a glutton for punishment. He was closer to the farm than he was to her place. Why didn’t he tell her to throw the things out? He didn’t need them. Still, he didn’t like the way they’d parted and he hoped they could end the marriage amicably. Maybe this was his chance to do that.

      “Oh, that’s fine,” she was saying. “I’ll see you, then.”

      As he clicked off, he wondered if she’d done anything about a divorce. He couldn’t help thinking, though, that a divorce was the last thing he wanted. Not today—not ever.

      SHE’D DONE IT, ELISE TOLD herself. The clothes were just an excuse to see him, to talk to him. She wasn’t uncaring and insensitive to his needs and she had to tell him that. Most importantly, she had to apologize about the photo.

      She ran into the closet and gathered his clothes. A fragrance tempted her nostrils and she paused for a moment. Aramis. One day when she was shopping she’d bought the cologne for him, not sure if he’d like it or not, but he had and she now associated that scent with him.

      Shaking her head, she put everything in a bag, even his items from the bathroom. When Jake took those, his presence would be gone from the house. She sank onto the bed. No, it wouldn’t, she had to admit to herself. So many feelings were struggling to surface, but she couldn’t let them. The past and the emotions connected to her fears and anxieties kept her bound. But through the mental block one thing rang true: she had to see Jake.

      The doorbell buzzed and she jumped. Jake was here.

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