Baby Be Mine

“Well, you can’t. And if you do it again, I won’t let you go in and see him anymore.”

Out jutted Willy’s bottom lip and down went his brows into a dark frown. But then he said, “I wanna hep you,” in a conciliatory whine.

“You can help me as soon as we wash out that scratch.”

And with that they took a quick, first-aid break in the mudroom.

Clair only watched from the sidelines because every time she got too near Willy insisted she, “Dit away!” as if she’d been the cause of his misery.

Then, once Jace was certain Willy was well taken care of, they all went back outside.

Jace had unloaded the new rails from the truck bed and stacked them on the ground behind it. He pointed at them as they passed them on their way back.

“You guys can bring those over to the fence,” he suggested. “Willy can take one end and Clair can take the other.”

It was clearly a chore he’d left purposely for them, because he could have hauled the whole lot of it in one trip himself. Clair appreciated that he was encouraging the togetherness so she could interact with her nephew. But Willy wanted no part of it, and the minute Clair put a hand on one of the rails, he dropped his end, picked up another board and dragged it himself.

“He’s an independent little guy,” Jace said apologetically when, after the third try, she’d given up and left the chore to Willy, settling near where Jace worked just to watch the boy.

“I suppose that’s a good thing,” Clair said. But she knew she didn’t sound convincing.

Jace used the claw end of a hammer as leverage to pull off the damaged rails he intended to replace. He had a rhythm going, and it caught Clair’s eye even as she meant to be only watching Willy.

But Jace was something to see as he braced a booted foot against the lowest rail, jammed the claw behind the board and nail and then put muscle into yanking them free.

Clair told herself not to pay attention to it. That “Unca Ace” was not why she was there. But with the March sun streaking his hair with gold and illuminating his handsome face as perfectly as a photographer’s lamp at a photo shoot, he was a hard sight to tear her gaze from.

When he’d pulled off a number of rails and Willy had all the new ones haphazardly deposited nearby, he said, “Okay, pal, if you’re careful to grab the old boards in the middle where there aren’t any nails you can take them to the trash for me. Maybe we can get Clair to stand over there and throw them in for us.” Then, under his breath, he said to Clair, “He has to have help with that.”

Willy might have needed her assistance, but that didn’t mean he was interested in socializing during the process.

Clair followed him to a large metal trash receptacle where he gave each board to her as solemnly as if it were the Olympic torch. But she got no response to anything she said to him to try to draw him out, except when she asked about the picture on the front of his T-shirt. Then he said, “I watch Dooby-Doo on TV,” and went back to ignoring her.

That was how the bulk of the day went, and by the end of it, Clair was both weary and dejected.

But she didn’t want Jace to know it, and so, as they drove back into town, she decided to do some subtle pleading of her own case.

“It doesn’t seem very practical to contend with a two-and-a-half-year-old while you work every day,” she said, slightly out of the blue and confident that Willy wouldn’t be aware of the conversation because he’d fallen instantly asleep in his car seat.

He gave her the sideways glance he’d given her on their way out to the ranch, taking his eyes off the road for only a split second and not turning his head. “Oh, I don’t know. I think we make a pretty good team.”

“You must not get as much done, though. Stopping to deal with a child every few minutes is distracting, and the time it takes away from your work adds up.”

Jace smiled mysteriously, and she had the impression that he was seeing through her again. “What are you, an efficiency expert?”

“I’m just saying that—”

“It isn’t as if I’m in an office with a quota to fill. I don’t see anything wrong with what we’re doin’. If my job for the day can’t be done with him around, one of my brothers is invariably doing something he can be there for, or my mother takes him with her to the McDermots’ place. She works around their house, and they don’t mind havin’ Willy over if need be. One of their boys is a little older than he is, and they play real well together. Some days they ask for him to come.”

Jace looked at her for a moment, somewhat pointedly, she thought. Then he said, “Seems to me this is a better way for a boy to grow up than havin’ to spend his days indoors at a day care center or a baby-sitter’s or something. He’s out in the open, learnin’ things, playin’, gettin’ his self-assurance and self-esteem built up by findin’ he can be a help and actually do some chores like he did today.”

It was hard to disagree with any of that, because she’d seen all of what he was talking about, and he was right.

But she couldn’t not argue her own side.

“There’s something to be said for day care when they begin to work on skills kids need for school. Plus they learn there are rules they have to follow and they learn how to work and play with other kids. A good day-care center can give a child a head start.”

“You think it’s better for a boy to be shut up in an institution every day rather than be out in the fresh air and sunshine with somebody who’s giving him one-on-one attention?”

“‘Shut up in an institution’?” she repeated. “You make it sound like an insane asylum. There are playgrounds and equipment—it isn’t as if kids are locked in windowless dungeons and fed gruel. They get accustomed to structure and order and schedules. They learn to compromise. They learn that there’s a time for work and a time for play, that there needs to be a balance in life. They learn discipline and order. Hygiene and—”

Jace laughed. “Are you thinkin’ Willy should be groomed for the military? Childhood as extended boot camp?”

“Of course not. It’s just that there’s something to be said for today’s day-care centers and for being free to do your own work without the hindrance of a child.”

The moment she said the word hindrance she knew she’d made a mistake, and the sobering of Jace’s expression only confirmed it.

Jace leaned forward enough to check on Willy, to make sure the little boy wasn’t hearing any of this.

Then he said, “I haven’t for a single minute thought of havin’ Willy with me as a hindrance.”

“I know. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. I just meant that there’s nothing wrong with a child being cared for by someone other than a parent or guardian while the parent or guardian works.”

“I enjoy havin’ Willy with me. He enjoys bein’ with me. I think we’re both lucky to have the chance to spend this time together.”

And that seemed to conclude the conversation as he pulled into his driveway.

Which was for the best as far as Clair was concerned, because she knew she’d lost more points than she’d gained all the way around today.

Jace got out of the truck and Clair followed him, stopping to wait near the hood while he went around to the passenger side to unbuckle Willy.

But as she stood there, she began to wonder where she should go from there. If she should continue to tag along into the house or if the end of the day signaled the end of her time with Willy and Jace—something she was suddenly inordinately loath to have happen.

She hated to invite herself to stay if Jace was tiring of her company, but she also didn’t want to leave and have him think she’d had her fill, either.

Luckily Jace solved her dilemma.

“Tuesday night is pizza night at our house. Want to come back in an hour or so and see what an evening in the life of Willy Miller is like now that you’ve seen what his day involves?”

A swell of gratitude rose inside Clair, and it occurred to her that she liked this man very much. There was something so strong and confident about him that he wasn’t threatened by the idea of sharing Willy—at least as things stood now. Strong and confident enough that he was trying to help her get to know her nephew, get closer to him, even if Willy wasn’t cooperating.

It was just plain nice of him. And that was a refreshing change for her.

Not to mention that it made him all the more appealing….

“I’d like that,” she said belatedly, when she realized she hadn’t responded to his invitation yet.

“Great. An hour’ll give me a chance to shower off some of today’s grime and get my dough to risin’.”