His Touch (5 page)

R
eid strolled down
the street, enjoying the warm sun and air. It galled him to spend his unexpected day off shopping, but he’d given Gene his word he’d try to make a nice impression on his girlfriend’s cousin. Even though he wasn’t all that into double dating, he’d show up and give it his best shot. And that meant a shirt that fit well, didn’t have any missing buttons or advertising logos or catsup stains. His sisters were always going on about his hazel green eyes, said he should play them up, so he was on a mission to find a decent green shirt. He shrugged. Eyes were eyes. Didn’t much matter what color they were.

Thinking about eyes suddenly put that pretty blond back in his brain. The way she’d told off the three rude women in his class, eyes blazing. Kara Larsen was her name, according to her registration form. She was a wonder. He loved that she’d taken his class seriously. He loved the way she’d looked, the way she’d dressed, even the way she’d spoken.

Stop
. He told himself.

There could be nothing with her. She was a mother.

That baby. Big blue eyes, honey-colored curls—she looked so much like Erin, he had a brief moment of terror that it
was
Erin and that he’d fallen into some kind of nightmare.

Jaw clenched, he forced himself to regroup and move on. With any luck, Vickie’s cousin from Atlanta would enjoy his company. He pulled open the door to TJ Maxx, determined to find a shirt that might make his sisters happy.

Inside the store, he made his way to the men’s department, picked through the shirts. Button down, polo or T-shirt? He had no damn clue. With a sigh, he stepped back, ran a hand over his head and froze.

There, at the end of the shoe display, stood a baby.

“Erin.”

He pressed a fist to the hole in his gut.

The baby squealed and took off at a waddling run, waving a plastic cup with a lid on it. He chased her, caught up to her seconds before she reached the escalator. His heart damn near stopped at the thought of escalators and those curls. He scooped her up into arms that felt like two strands of spaghetti and just stared at her.

It was the same baby from the CPR class. Where was her mother? Where
the hell
was her mother?

“Ma,” the tiny human said, thumping his chest with a fat little hand.

“Good question.” He found his voice and with it, his temper. Mouth tight, he strode through the store, spotted the pretty blond from his class taking snapshots of desk accessories, for God’s sake. Her stroller was parked two feet away. Just as he was about to call out, she noticed the empty carriage. Her face lost all its color and everything in her hands slid to the floor.

“NADIA!”

Her eardrum-shattering scream bounced off all the walls in the store. People stopped and stared. A security guard ran toward her just as she fell to her knees. Reid crossed the aisles, the baby rubbing her hand on the bit of stubble on his cheeks. “Hey! Miss Larsen!”

The woman was hysterical.

“Ma!” The baby in his arms shouted and that got her attention.

“Nadia? Oh, God. Oh, my God!” She scrambled to her feet, ran toward him and snatched the baby from his arms, pressing kisses to her face. “Thank you, thank you. Oh, God! I thought she was taken, kidnapped, murdered—”

“Stop,” he snapped out the order that had mother and child blinking up at him in shock. “She wasn’t taken or kidnapped or murdered. She was toddling along by men’s shoes, completely unsupervised while you’re over here chatting on your friggin’ cell phone! Do you have any idea what could have happened to her?”

He wasn’t sure where all this temper was coming from.

All he knew was that by the end of that sentence, he was shouting so loudly, his throat ached. Worse, he was just winding up. Jabbing a finger in the air, he added, “You know, people like you don’t deserve kids.”

Huge brown eyes slipped shut and he knew he’d gone too far, knew he’d hurt her.

He’d
wanted
to hurt her and that scared the tar out of him.

Her face—already bloodless—went paler. She nodded and sniffled. “You’re right. You’re completely right. I don’t deserve her. Thank you for saving her.”

With one last kiss to the baby’s head, the woman buckled the protesting baby back into her stroller, bent to retrieve the cell phone, and made a fast exit. When she was out of sight, Reid let out his breath, painfully aware that every eye in the store was pinned to him—as well as quite a few cell phones. He tugged his cap over his face and stalked back to the men’s department, grabbed the first shirt he saw, and headed for the cashier.

Last thing he needed was the chief coming down on him for his poor public relations skills.

“Cash or credit?” The cashier inquired softly.

Reid cleared his throat. “Um. Cash.”

“You were right. She wasn’t watching her baby. You were right to yell at her.”

He stared at the girl. She couldn’t be more than twenty-one years old. What the hell did she know about watching kids, being responsible for them? He took out his wallet, whipped out a twenty and shook his head. “No. I wasn’t. She was in shock. I never should have let her leave here like that.”

She bagged his shirt, handed him some change and a receipt. He didn’t bother to thank her. Just grabbed his bag and ran in the direction Ms. Larsen took when she left the store.

*

Oh, God, oh,
God, oh, God!

Kara walked fast down the street, sobs backing up in her throat. The fear that had run through her. It was like a cold blade straight through her core. One minute Nadia was sipping from her cup and the other, she was simply gone.

Shivering despite the warm weather, Kara walked faster. Her phone buzzed but she knew she’d completely lose it if she had to tell the story about what just happened. She needed to settle down. She needed peace.

She needed her mother.

She pushed Nadia’s stroller to the September 11th Memorial. She’d adjusted the stroller so that the baby faced
her
instead of the street. She would never take her eyes off her daughter again. Once inside the park, she strolled directly to the fountain and found her mother’s name on the brass plaque. Marie Larsen had been a financial advisor with Burke and Kirkpatrick, a firm whose headquarters had been located in the World Trade Center. The Trade Center was gone now; in its place, a new Freedom Tower and this beautiful memorial.

Her grave.

Kara traced her mother’s name in the brass and felt the hot heavy tears flow. “Mom! Oh, God, Mom, I almost lost her today.”

She bowed her head over the plaque and let the fear and the grief take her for a few minutes. When she raised her head, it was just in time to witness Nadia escape her safety strap and take off across the plaza.

“Nadia! Come back here!”

With a shriek of laughter, the baby ran.

*

The streets were
busy—a New York City lunch hour always was—but there was no sign of Kara Larsen and her blue baby carriage.

Cursing, Reid strode south. He’d completely flipped out on her. Okay, so she should have been watching her kid instead of gabbing on the phone, but he knew better than anybody just how slippery toddlers could be. In fact, he wasn’t sure if she’d noticed that the baby’s seatbelt was still buckled when she’d firmly put the screaming toddler back into the stroller.

He had.

The kid had executed a Houdini. She wasn’t the first to wriggle out of a safety strap. He shuddered at the times he’d had to respond to the end result of such times. Regardless, he was way too hard on her. She’d paid careful attention during his class, even though she’d had a baby with her. And every time she’d looked at that baby, he’d seen her brown eyes soften with love.

He knew love like that. Well, he had known it once.

Now, he was empty. His temper spiked and not for the first time, he wished the chief would let him teach a Preventable Accidents class so he could show these moronic parents just what happens to toddlers while they send out one more email or answer one more call.

He walked for blocks and found himself at the September 11th Memorial. The trees on the Memorial Plaza were blooming, providing welcome patches of shade in the June sun. He was still hot from anger and needed a nice quiet patch of shade. He sat on a bench facing the twin fountains, a spot he’d frequently visited.

His brother had died out there, one of the first responders who’d run into the burning towers while hundreds had run out. Reid missed him like he’d miss his arm or his leg. Not a day went by when he didn’t look for Kyle, talk to him, confide in him. He supposed it was his imagination. Or his grief. He didn’t really care to explain it away. All he knew was that he took comfort in talking to Kyle. And yes, sometimes, Kyle talked back.

“Kyle,” he whispered to the trees and swore he heard his brother chuckle.

Wow, you really messed up.

Reid sighed. Hard to argue when it was the truth. He slid his sunglasses into the neck of his shirt and scrubbed at his face. This day completely sucked and he still had a full shift to work tonight.

Cut her a break, man. She’s a single mother.

Reid pressed his lips together. He
had
cut her a break. That’s why he’d backed off, wasn’t it?

Bullshit. You backed off because you’re scared.

He scrubbed a hand over his hair. “Jeez, Kyle. I come here for comfort not torture.”

Yeah, yeah. Look, Reid. You need to stop punishing yourself for what happened to Erin.

Reid’s temper surged and his hands fisted. “Leave it alone, Kyle.”

Can’t do that, bro. You need a second chance. And here it comes again.

“What the hell are you—”

A panicked scream split the peace and quiet of the park. He’d heard that scream before.

“Nadia!”

He whipped around, found Kara Larsen chasing the same little girl he’d rescued barely twenty minutes ago. Christ, did this woman never learn anything? To make things worse, the baby was running straight for him.

With a loud curse, he stooped down and let the toddler run right into his arms, bracing himself for the spike of pain that lanced through his heart when she did.

God, she even smelled like Erin. Adjusting her comfortably to one hip, he stalked toward her insane mother.

“You,” she sneered, snatching her daughter from his arms.

“Twice in thirty minutes,” he taunted with a pointed glance at the large watch he wore on his left wrist. “Must be some kind of record.”

“I’m sorry she bothered you.” She whipped around and strode back to the fountain, where she’d left the baby’s stroller.

Reid blinked at that. She hadn’t bothered him. Not exactly. “Okay, look.” He hurried to catch up to her. “I’m sorry. I may have, ah, over-reacted a little.”

She said nothing, just continued walking back to the stroller.

He noticed the strap was still fastened. He lifted it with one finger. “Look. This strap you’re using is a joke. You need to buy her a safety harness she can’t wriggle out of, understand?”

She spun around, her eyes all but exploding from her face. “Of course I understand! I am a certified financial advisor who holds two graduate degrees. Do not speak to me like I’m one of those three air-heads in your class.” She whirled again and Reid had to admit, a pang of guilt prickled his conscience until her cell phone buzzed and she took it out to answer the call. That’s when his already high blood pressure shot to red line levels.

He grabbed the phone out of her hand. “I don’t think you do.” He stepped up, invading her personal space. He knew he was being rude and condescending and didn’t much care. This was about preventing tragedy and she was going to damn well listen to him whether she wanted to hear it or not. “In my line of work, I know exactly what happens to kids whose parents spend too goddamn much time with their cell phones and shopping trips and selfies and trust me, lady, it ain’t pretty.”

He slapped the phone back into her hand and shoved his sunglasses back on. “Turn off the friggin’ phone and pay attention to your kid.”

He strode off and got halfway across the plaza before guilt caught up to him.