Chapter 14 #2
“Which direction?”
“I don’t— I wasn’t—” I can’t breathe properly. “Calvin, she’s fourteen months old; she can’t have gone far—but what if she fell? What if—”
“She didn’t fall. She wandered. Toddlers wander.” He’s already scanning the area, methodical and calm. “Everyone, spread out three sixty degrees. Check around and inside the tents. She’s probably just exploring.”
The team mobilizes immediately. Khalid checks behind the supply tent. Edmond heads toward the work area. Dr. Akkhad searches the dining tent, calling Ella’s name.
I’m frozen, my mind spiraling through worst-case scenarios. This is the desert. There are scorpions, snakes, equipment that could crush her, vehicles she could climb under…
“There,” Calvin says suddenly. He’s pointing toward the generator area, partially hidden behind my tent. He walks over and crouches down. “Hey there, Ella. Whatcha doing back here?”
I run over, my legs shaky with relief and residual terror.
Ella is sitting in the sand behind the generator, completely absorbed in examining a stick. She looks up when Calvin approaches, startled to be discovered, her eyes going wide.
“Cav-cav!” she says.
“Yeah, it’s me. You wandered off, little one. Your mama’s looking for you.”
He picks her up gently, and she immediately starts to whimper, sensing my panic before she even sees me.
The moment I reach them, I take her from Calvin’s arms and hold her so tightly she squeaks in protest. “Ella, baby, you scared Mama so much. You can’t wander off like that. You have to stay where I can see you. Always. Do you understand?”
She starts crying, responding to my frightened tone, and I’m crying too, my whole body shaking with the adrenaline dump. I’m so stupid. Why am I even telling her to stay close? She’s too young to understand. She’s my responsibility, and I shouldn’t have looked away for even thirty seconds.
“She’s fine,” Calvin says quietly.
“But she could have…” My voice breaks. “What if she’d gone further? What if she’d reached the equipment area, or the excavation site, or…”
“But she didn’t. She’s safe.”
“Because you found her!” The words come out harsher than I intend. “I’m her mother, and I lost her. I was supposed to be watching her, and I got distracted and—”
“Georgia.” Calvin’s hand lands on my shoulder, warm and steady. “Stop. You didn’t lose her. She wandered when you were only a few yards away. It happens. Every parent I’ve ever met has a story about a kid who disappeared for a few minutes and gave them a heart attack.”
“You don’t understand—”
“No, I probably don’t. But I do know you’re doing the best you can. And I’m sorry.”
I look up at him, surprised. “What?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t help sooner. That I made you feel like caring for her was an inconvenience.
That I’ve been…” He pauses, searching for words.
“An ass, basically. You’ve been managing a professional excavation while solo-parenting a toddler in the desert, and instead of helping, I’ve been criticizing. That was stupid. Really stupid.”
The apology is so unexpected, so genuine, that I don’t know what to say.
Ella has calmed down, sensing the adults are calm now. She’s sniffling against my shoulder, one hand clutching my shirt.
“You babyproofed the camp,” I finally manage. “And made her toys. And watched her. You have been helping.”
“I should have started helping the day we arrived.” He removes his hand from my shoulder, but the warmth lingers. “You asked me once if I wanted to replace you. The truth is, this project would fail without you. You’re brilliant, Georgia. No one in the world could replace you.”
My throat is tight. I’m still coming down from the fear, and now I have to process… this. Calvin being kind. Apologetic. Seeing me for the first time.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
“Everyone okay?” Dr. Akkhad calls from near the tent.
“We’re fine,” Calvin calls back. “False alarm. She was just exploring.”
The team disperses, relieved, returning to their after-dinner routines, but Calvin and I stand in the growing darkness, Ella between us.
“I should get her cleaned up and put to bed,” I say.
“Right. Of course.” He hesitates. “If you need anything… I’m around.”
“I know. Thank you. Really.”
He nods and walks away, and I carry Ella back to our tent.
But as I go through the bedtime routine of cleaning sandy hands, changing into pajamas, reading stories and singing lullabies, I keep thinking about what just happened.
Not the scare of losing Ella, though that will probably give me nightmares.
But Calvin. The way he stayed calm when I was panicking.
The way he found her so quickly, so efficiently.
The way he comforted me instead of criticizing.
The genuine apology.
This is a different man from the one who showed up at my cottage in Maine. Different from the one who panicked in the sandstorm and snapped about a sippy cup.
He’s still a tad intense and probably too invested in this project, but maybe there’s more to Calvin Aarons than I gave him credit for. Maybe underneath all that armor is someone worth knowing.
After Mike, after learning how badly I can misjudge people, I should be running in the opposite direction from any hint of attraction or connection.
But as Ella finally drifts off to sleep, and I sit in the quiet darkness of our tent, I find myself thinking about Calvin’s hands on my shoulders.
About his voice, steady and sure. About the way he looked at me like I mattered.
And how I could have stayed lost in that gaze until the end of time.