believe. I’m just wondering why I didn’t see you there.”
“I took some time off to stay home with Kimmy after Leah died. I’ve only been back to work a few months.”
“That explains things. I was there about five months ago.”
“Did you get the help you needed?”
“I’m still looking.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I hope you find your daughter. I can’t imagine life without Kimmy. It would be so…” His gaze drifted to her and the tight line of her jaw told him she was grappling with emotion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s OK. You’re right.” A shimmer of tears in her eyes made his gut clench while the hum of traffic did battle with a country tune drifting from the radio.
Cole pressed a hand to her shoulder, and the gesture reignited the wave of longing he’d once felt for her. He suddenly felt a strong desire to protect her—from what, he wasn’t sure. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you’d let me know, right?”
“Yes.” She lowered her gaze and reached for a tissue from the console.
“You promise?”
“Yes, I promise.” She dabbed her eyes. “Thank you, Cole.”
****
Rebecca had always wondered what it might feel like to choose a birthday cake design for her daughter. Now, she knew. Cole gave her free reign in the bakery.
“Leah always took care of this.” He flipped absently through a design book mounted to the counter. “It’s a girl thing, and I don’t have a clue what Kimmy might like.”
“Well,” Rebecca eased in beside him. “Is she a princess kind of girl or a tomboy?”
“I’d say she’s a hybrid.”
“That’s one I haven’t heard before.” Rebecca laughed. “What does she like to do?”
“Draw pictures, make up plays—”
“Make up plays?”
“Yeah. For her dolls and Buttercup, our cat, to star in.”
“I see.” Rebecca gazed through the display glass, her belly yawning at the variety of sweet confections. Cole eased in beside her, and the way his shoulder brushed hers brought back memories of the laughter they’d once shared at the arena. It would be wrong to say he was her first crush. What she’d once felt for him had been so much more. But she’d never acted on it—nor had he. Now she wondered, why? “What else?”
“She likes books and puzzles and fruit snacks, too.” Cole scratched his chin. “And, she’s a chocolate fiend. Gotta hide the candy or she’ll have her hands on it.”
“Just like her dad.”
“Is that a dig?”
“If the candy bar fits…” Rebecca searched through her purse. “I think I have a pad of paper and a pencil stashed somewhere in here.”
“For what?”
“I’ve got an idea.”
Once she had the tools in hand, Rebecca began to sketch a rough drawing, shading it in as she went along. She glanced up from time to time to find Cole watching, his gaze fixed on her hands.
“Kimmy grips her pencil like that when she draws.” His expressive eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“Really?”
“Yes, but not when she prints letters. It’s the strangest thing. I’ve never seen anyone else hold a pencil that way.”
“No one in your family?”
“Never. Not that it would matter. Kimmy’s adopted.”
“Oh.” The admission startled Rebecca. For a moment sound buzzed in her ears and optic stars danced, turning the shop to a fuzzy blur. The paper slipped from her hands, and she scrambled to catch it before it hit the floor. She shook her head, clearing the stars, and gulped hard to clear the shock from her throat. “And you didn’t know her birth mother?”
“No. The adoption was closed. All I know is the woman was ill and couldn’t take care of Kimmy.”
“And you believe that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“The people who have my daughter were most likely told the same thing about me. At the time it was true—”
“I’m not following.”
“I was in a car accident, serious enough to take my husband’s life and put me in an extended coma. I have a
“I took some time off to stay home with Kimmy after Leah died. I’ve only been back to work a few months.”
“That explains things. I was there about five months ago.”
“Did you get the help you needed?”
“I’m still looking.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I hope you find your daughter. I can’t imagine life without Kimmy. It would be so…” His gaze drifted to her and the tight line of her jaw told him she was grappling with emotion. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”
“It’s OK. You’re right.” A shimmer of tears in her eyes made his gut clench while the hum of traffic did battle with a country tune drifting from the radio.
Cole pressed a hand to her shoulder, and the gesture reignited the wave of longing he’d once felt for her. He suddenly felt a strong desire to protect her—from what, he wasn’t sure. “If there’s anything I can do to help, you’d let me know, right?”
“Yes.” She lowered her gaze and reached for a tissue from the console.
“You promise?”
“Yes, I promise.” She dabbed her eyes. “Thank you, Cole.”
****
Rebecca had always wondered what it might feel like to choose a birthday cake design for her daughter. Now, she knew. Cole gave her free reign in the bakery.
“Leah always took care of this.” He flipped absently through a design book mounted to the counter. “It’s a girl thing, and I don’t have a clue what Kimmy might like.”
“Well,” Rebecca eased in beside him. “Is she a princess kind of girl or a tomboy?”
“I’d say she’s a hybrid.”
“That’s one I haven’t heard before.” Rebecca laughed. “What does she like to do?”
“Draw pictures, make up plays—”
“Make up plays?”
“Yeah. For her dolls and Buttercup, our cat, to star in.”
“I see.” Rebecca gazed through the display glass, her belly yawning at the variety of sweet confections. Cole eased in beside her, and the way his shoulder brushed hers brought back memories of the laughter they’d once shared at the arena. It would be wrong to say he was her first crush. What she’d once felt for him had been so much more. But she’d never acted on it—nor had he. Now she wondered, why? “What else?”
“She likes books and puzzles and fruit snacks, too.” Cole scratched his chin. “And, she’s a chocolate fiend. Gotta hide the candy or she’ll have her hands on it.”
“Just like her dad.”
“Is that a dig?”
“If the candy bar fits…” Rebecca searched through her purse. “I think I have a pad of paper and a pencil stashed somewhere in here.”
“For what?”
“I’ve got an idea.”
Once she had the tools in hand, Rebecca began to sketch a rough drawing, shading it in as she went along. She glanced up from time to time to find Cole watching, his gaze fixed on her hands.
“Kimmy grips her pencil like that when she draws.” His expressive eyes narrowed thoughtfully.
“Really?”
“Yes, but not when she prints letters. It’s the strangest thing. I’ve never seen anyone else hold a pencil that way.”
“No one in your family?”
“Never. Not that it would matter. Kimmy’s adopted.”
“Oh.” The admission startled Rebecca. For a moment sound buzzed in her ears and optic stars danced, turning the shop to a fuzzy blur. The paper slipped from her hands, and she scrambled to catch it before it hit the floor. She shook her head, clearing the stars, and gulped hard to clear the shock from her throat. “And you didn’t know her birth mother?”
“No. The adoption was closed. All I know is the woman was ill and couldn’t take care of Kimmy.”
“And you believe that?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“The people who have my daughter were most likely told the same thing about me. At the time it was true—”
“I’m not following.”
“I was in a car accident, serious enough to take my husband’s life and put me in an extended coma. I have a
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