Chapter 24
NOELLE
No matter how hard I bounced, patted, paced, or soothed Lily, she wasn’t having it.
Every second that she wasn’t crying, she was on the verge. Her quivering lips, tear-filled eyes, continued to break my heart. I lifted her to my shoulder, patted her back, and whispered, “We’re good, baby girl. We’re good.”
We were not good.
We were a mess.
Waiting for Thomas and Sarah Miller to arrive absolutely sucked, and I found myself hoping, more than once, that their plane would be redirected or cancelled due to weather.
Both Lily and I trod the edge of tolerance, and I wasn’t sure what I had done wrong this morning.
Her routine stayed exactly the same, the way all the articles and books I read discussed.
Was it possible that she queued off of me?
Did my nervousness transmit to her? I thought Marsha mentioned something like that once: a one-off comment about familial, inherited anxiety.
But the idea that my nerves could affect Lily so directly was too much for me to bear at this moment, so I ignored it.
“Fine,” I whispered again. “We’re just fine.”
A snow-washed world awaited outside, dimmed by restless clouds and the constant threat of falling snowflakes.
The cold sunshine we soaked up the last several days had vanished behind the cloud cover, and I longed for its return.
The twirling flakes, fluttering indeterminably, mirrored my restless emotions.
Sarah texted a vague, We should land around 10:30 and be there after lunch, this morning. After lunch could mean anything. When was their estimation of lunch? 11:00? 1:30? I hated the lack of concrete certainty more than checking the empty driveway every other minute.
Lily settled her head against my neck, and the brush of her hair against my skin soothed me. I tilted my head a little, whispering, “We’re fine,” and this time managed to mean it.
We were fine.
We had somewhere to land, no rent looming over my head for the time being, a little money in savings for diapers and necessities. I had time to find a job. We had friends close by. This situation could be so much worse. Besides, neither myself nor Cade would let anything happen to Lily.
The jarring thought shook me from my irritation with Sarah and Thomas, particularly because the depth of my emotions were so much greater than they should be.
Thoughts of Cade brought up heart-fluttering memories of our kiss last night, and the realization that I hadn’t seen him all morning. Chores, probably.
Before Lily, I might have plunged headfirst into anxiety over our newfound relationship.
As it stood, I still needed to get her to burp, change her, start a load of laundry, and do another sweep of the kitchen.
Cody and Wyatt weren’t coming in for breakfast this morning—we all slept in after the late evening—and my to-do list mounted while I tried to soothe Lily.
I didn’t remember when I went to bed, only had vague memories of stirring awake when Cade effortlessly lifted me in his arms and carried me to the room, where I curled up and fell fast asleep again.
The memories warmed me.
Then scared me.
I shoved it all aside to focus on getting Lily ready, but caught a glimpse of closed eyes, her steady breaths in the mirror, and all my plans fizzled. She’d fallen asleep. Maybe being with Dagny had overstimulated her, and her sleep hadn’t been sufficient.
Well, so much for my plans for a pristine kitchen. Lily looked so innocent, perched on my shoulder and limp with trust.
Trust me, Cade said last night.
Quietly, I sank into the rocking chair and let it carry Lily and I forward and back. It grounded my wild thoughts, the rampaging fears. Everything settled as she slipped into a deeper rest. My eyes closed, and I remembered last night without the panic, forcing my mind to focus on Cade.
His hand on my waist.
Protective growl.
Devouring kiss.
Yes, he would make sure nothing bad would happen to Lily.
Her grandparents wouldn’t hurt her—I’d met them at the hospital and a few times after.
They genuinely loved her, and their son.
But their zealousness to compensate for their son’s wild ways made them hyper-focused on redemption through Lily.
They wanted to do better with her, and had said so themselves.
Lily wasn’t redemption.
She was Lily.
I feared they’d run away with her. If I gave them a moment alone—which was their due—I didn’t want them sneaking out the door.
My heart hammered just thinking about it, never mind the utter lack of logic behind such an anxiety.
They wouldn’t go far before Cade would chase them down, and then all hope of having her would be gone.
There again.
Cade.
Was Cade the new center of my world? One night of kissing and he had taken up residence?
No. Not at all. Lily was the center of my world. But Cade was the center of my safety, and I wasn’t entirely certain that was fair. He didn’t ask for the heaping responsibility of a newborn and her I-have-no-idea-what-I’m-doing aunt, including all the family issues Lily and I showed up with.
A creaking near the hall brought my eyes open, and I smelled leather and hay a moment before movement occurred at my elbow. A light touch came to my arm, and then Cade was there, crouched at my side.
My heart did a double whomp as his smell, his smiling eyes, appeared at the same time, as if he’d manifested from my thoughts. Though he touched me, he only had eyes for Lily. The same tenderness he always gave her appeared again.
After skimming his eyes over her with a smile, he raised his focus to me.
His rampant adoration was almost too beautiful to believe.
It brought a lump to my throat, settling the quiet fears I hadn’t known were there.
I feared the promises he made yesterday that he’d regret later; that he was avoiding me.
But no man looked at a woman like that if he held any regret.
He lifted a finger, traced it along my cheekbone.
“Hey.”
I whispered, “Hey,” with little more than a croak. He set one knee on the ground, bent the other, and propped his arm on it. His other hand settled on my thigh. He gripped it just above the knee, and the weight comforted me.
“Sorry we’ve been scarce. I had the boys get up an hour early to finish the chores, and I did one more plow along the driveway to make sure it was clear for them to make it to the house. With rentals, you never know how they handle in deep snow.”
“Thank you.”
Cade paused, then added, “I also had the two knuckleheads get up early because I want them outside when Sarah and Thomas are here. Wyatt is positioned in the front yard, and Cody by the driveway. Just in case. When the Millers arrive, they’re going to be stationed near each door, and busy with stupid tasks. ”
My breath hitched when I realized what he meant. He kept my stare, reading whatever myriad of emotions appeared. My eyes glistened. He remembered. He already remembered what I was afraid of and took pains to assure me. With my free arm, I touched my fingertips to the hollow of his cheek.
“Thank you.”
He set his hand on mine, squeezed. Then slid his hold to Lily’s back, smiled a little as he watched her breathe. With the greatest tenderness, he pressed a kiss to my temple, breathed deep from my hair, and finally straightened up. He loomed overhead like a protective angel.
“What else do you need?” he asked.
You, I thought.
“Nothing. Cade, this is—”
“What we do. You’re mine, now. Comes with it.”
With that, he set a hand on my shoulder, squeezed gently. My heart stirred as he hesitated in the doorway.
“I’ll let you know when I see them. You should just . . . enjoy your time with her until then. She is . . . you with her, it’s . . .”
He turned away, head shaking, swallowing hard as he disappeared into the kitchen.
Sarah Miller sported a wide poof of hair, bright pink lipstick, and watery eyes.
A gaudy gold necklace hung around her neck, draped over a long-sleeved shirt that skirted artificially distressed blue jeans.
Her tinny voice quaked with every other word.
The moment I opened the door with Lily in my arms, Sarah teared up.
“Oh! There she is. Our baby girl!”
The love in her voice hit me when I smiled a greeting, a knot in my stomach.
“Welcome, Sarah. Thomas. Come inside.”
After they shuffled in, I relinquished Lily into Sarah’s arms, transferring her carefully. Without looking around, uttering a greeting, or even looking in my eyes, Sarah accepted Lily, clutched her tight, sat on the chair, and cried. A tad dramatically, to my estimation, but we all had emotions.
Thomas nodded a greeting to me as he closed the door behind him.
His rheumy eyes were as tired as he appeared at the hospital, right after Naomi died.
Sarah had been in a similar state—near hysterical, weepy, and vocal enough that the nurses gently escorted her into another room.
As if she’d lost her own daughter, and not the tramp who slept with our son, as she lovingly put it before Lily’s birth.
Sarah Miller swung a wide path from doting friend to crazed shrew, often in the span of a finger snap.
Thomas said, “Hello, Noelle. It’s good to see you again. Means a lot that you invited us out. We’ve been . . . very eager . . . to see Lily.”
I nodded, relieved that he broke the tentative ice. Sarah’s theatrical voice cooed over Lily, who stared at her with the same transfixed, brow-wrinkled face she gave everyone. I gestured them into the warm living room. Snowflakes fluttered from the cloudy sky outside, creating a cozy atmosphere.
“Please, come in. It’s good to see you again, also. Let me take your coat, and have a seat. Can I get you something to drink?”