Authors: Rachel Ann Nunes
“No! Don’t touch it—please!” Belle’s voice ended in a wail as he examined her arm.
“She was on the fence,” Jeremy reported. “Walking on it. She’s a pretty good balancer.”
“Belle,” groaned Damon. “You know better than that.” But his voice held only regret, not reprimand, for which Mickelle was grateful.
“It hurts! Oh, Daddy, it hurts so bad!”
“Put your good arm against your stomach,” Mickelle said. “And then put this one on top—give it some support. That should make it feel a little better. No, don’t push hard. Here, I’ll show you. Slowly, now.” With much care, Mickelle helped Belle position her arm. The child still cried, but the sobs were no longer so desperate.
“I think you’d better take her to the doctor,” she told Damon. “Her arm could be broken. See how it bends here?” She pointed to a spot just above Belle’s wrist.
“It could be swelling,” Damon said.
“Yes, but from the way she’s crying, it sounds serious. Does she cry easily?”
He shook his head. “Think I’d better take her to the emergency room?”
“A doctor would be better, not to mention cheaper. They’ll probably X-ray it and put a temporary cast on, then have her come back when the swelling goes down. They can’t cast it if it’s too swollen. Who’s your doctor?”
“I don’t have a doctor here yet—haven’t gotten around to it. We visited one guy before school started, but it was a checkup, and Bekka took them.”
“We can take her to mine. He’s wonderful with children.”
Damon looked at her gratefully. “I really appreciate it.”
Mickelle loved the warm feel of his eyes on hers. She forced herself to look away. “Jeremy, go call Bryan at the Adamsons’ and tell him to come home. He’ll keep an eye on you until we get back.”
“Aw, can’t I go? I want to see the X-ray.”
Mickelle glanced at Damon. “I don’t mind.”
“Okay, then call him and let him know where we’ll be. He knows where we leave the extra key. Hurry! We’ll wait for you in the car.”
Damon carried Belle to the Lexus. Her cries had now relaxed into whimpers, but each time her arm moved, the whimper was louder. “Don’t let me go, Daddy,” she said as he carried her toward the car.
“I can drive while you sit with her,” Mickelle said, motioning him instead to the blue Mercedes. Watching father and daughter brought a lump to her throat and a tenderness to her chest. She hadn’t felt that way about a man since she had watched Riley hold Bryan for the first time.
Without speaking, Damon nodded and moved toward the Mercedes. He waited for her to unlock the door to the backseat and then slid inside with Belle. As Mickelle started the engine, Jeremy flew out of the house.
“Aren’t we supposed to call ahead or something?” Damon asked.
Mickelle frowned. “Oh, yeah.” There was something about him that made her forget all the details. “Just a minute. I’m sure they’ll see us, though. They always leave a few open appointments for emergencies.” She hurried into the house and dialed quickly.
In moments, she returned. “They said they’ll work us in. At least they know we’re coming.”
“Maybe they’ll have a good video.” Jeremy sat in the back next to Belle, who was on the seat with her head against her father’s chest.
Mickelle drove cautiously to her doctor’s office, which was situated near the American Fork Hospital. She had the urge to drive faster but knew they’d only have to wait once they arrived. Besides, she wanted to show Damon how well she had been driving his car.
“Uh, I don’t mean any offense,” he said, “but could you go a little faster?”
Jeremy leaned forward in his seat as far as the safety restraints would allow. “Yeah, Mom. Grandma drives faster than you!”
Feeling herself color, Mickelle stepped on the gas—a little too hard. Belle moaned from the back. “Sorry,” Mickelle apologized.
While they waited at the doctor’s office, the kids kept occupied with the latest Disney release, and Damon and Mickelle talked about their children. Belle now seemed remarkably calm, though her face was pinched with pain.
“I’d better check in at work.” Damon pulled out his cell phone. “I need to let them know what’s happening, and that I won’t be there for a meeting we’re having. I can’t believe it’s after five already.”
Finally, a young nurse Mickelle didn’t know called Belle’s name and led them to a small room. “I’m sorry you’ve had to wait so long. We seem to have had a rush of accidents today.”
“It’s okay,” Damon murmured.
“You have beautiful children.” The nurse helped Belle sit on the examining table.
Mickelle hesitated, and then smiled. “Thank you.” Feeling Damon’s gaze, she shrugged. His amber eyes glinted.
Abruptly, Mickelle wanted to weep. If Riley had lived, she could have had a daughter like Belle. This really could have been her family.
Except if Riley had lived, he would never have come to the doctor with her. He wouldn’t have spared the time, not even on a weekend. He hadn’t come with her either of the times Bryan had broken his arm, when Jeremy had stitches, or for their checkups. He always had more important things to do.
From beneath partially closed eyelids, she observed how tenderly Damon held his daughter.
What could be more important than this?
After asking them a few questions, the nurse left the room. They waited ten more minutes for the doctor and then another fifteen for someone to take the X-rays.
Belle’s arm was broken, and as Mickelle had predicted, the doctor gave her a temporary cast and asked them to bring her back Monday morning.
Jeremy checked out Belle’s sling. “Can I try it on after you get your cast?” he asked on the way to the car.
“If you’ll carry my books home from school.”
“Okay.”
“Better be careful,” Damon warned. “She’ll have you doing her homework.”
Belle stuck out her lower lip. “I will not. My homework’s too easy. I don’t need anyone to do it.”
“All the same, you’d better be careful, Jeremy.” Damon winked at the boy, who gave him a smile so filled with admiration that Mickelle felt a lump form in her throat.
As they drove back to the house, Belle asked, “Daddy, can I have a shake? Please, Daddy?”
“Me, too, Mom!” Jeremy bounced on the seat excitedly, making Mickelle check to be sure he was still using his seat belt.
Damon glanced at his watch. “Do you have time?”
“If we make it fast.” Mickelle wasn’t worried about leaving Bryan a while longer, but she did have her date with Officer Lowder that evening.
They stopped at Parker’s Drive-In for the shakes, and Belle decided she wanted a hamburger, too. Damon ended up buying hamburgers, shakes, and fries for everyone, including Bryan. Mickelle didn’t know how to tell him she already had a dinner date, so she let him buy her a hamburger, too.
“We’ll have to eat them on the way,” Damon said. “We’re running late.”
“For your date?” asked Belle.
Damon cleared his throat. “Yes. Does that bother you?”
Belle’s brow furrowed. “I guess not. You can go.”
“I’m not sure about leaving you, anyway.”
Mickelle wondered if his date was with Rebekka, and she found herself disliking this woman she had never met. “Are you sure you want the kids to eat in the car?”
He shrugged. “They’ll be careful. It can always be cleaned.”
When they left the drive-in, they noticed that the front passenger side tire was nearly flat. “Oh, no! I must have driven over a nail or something. I’m so sorry!” Mickelle stiffened, wondering at his reaction. Would the muscles in his neck tense with anger as Riley’s had always done? Would his face darken, and would mean, disrespectful words erupt from his mouth before he could gain control?
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got a spare.” Damon smiled wryly, and Mickelle felt herself slowly relax. He peeled off his jacket, revealing a torso that was strong but not fleshy. He caught her steady gaze, and she felt herself color. He regarded her silently for long seconds, smiling, and her blush deepened, but she didn’t turn away from his stare. She would certainly hold her own with him.
At last, he opened the trunk. “This shouldn’t take too long.”
The children sat at an outdoor table to eat while Damon worked on the car. Another half hour elapsed before he succeeded in freeing an obstinate bolt and replacing the tire. Mickelle was amazed that he could do it all without destroying his suit pants and light yellow shirt.
“Sorry it took so long,” Damon said.
She smiled. “Couldn’t be helped.”
“You should have eaten your hamburger with the kids.”
“Well, I . . . it’s okay.”
“You can eat with Bryan,” he suggested. Mickelle was touched that he remembered her oldest son’s name.
He threw her the keys, but this time she blanched. “You can drive. After all, it’s your car.”
“Not until I give you back the Snail.”
She laughed. “All right. Let’s go, kids.” She walked to the car and opened the door.
Belle yawned sleepily as she stumbled to the car. Once inside, she removed her shoes and cradled her broken arm against her chest. To Mickelle, she looked like a miniature angel.
“Is something wrong?” Damon asked, following her gaze. “Belle, do you need help with the seat belt?”
“No. Jeremy did it.”
Damon looked at Mickelle over the top of the car, a question in his eyes. “What’s up?”
Mickelle leaned forward and said softly, so the children wouldn’t hear, “Are you sure you want me to watch her? I mean, look what happened . . . her arm.”
“Hey, I was there, too. It couldn’t have been prevented.”
She sighed. “Only by knowing the rules. The children aren’t allowed on the fence.”
He raised his hands helplessly. “I guess a few accidents will happen until she gets the hang of the rules.”
“Nothing so severe as this, I hope,” Mickelle said dryly.
“With Belle, one never knows. We have to take her as she comes.”
Mickelle was grateful for his attitude. The man she once thought so hateful and unpleasant was actually a nice person. More than nice. She wished . . .
Neither spoke, and the tension between them grew thick. What was it exactly? Mickelle didn’t have an answer. She only knew that when she looked into his amber eyes, she didn’t feel like a widow, but an available woman whose heart had a life of its own. What would it be like to feel his lips against hers?
Damon didn’t take his eyes from her face, and Mickelle could hardly breathe. She prayed that her thoughts weren’t visible in her eyes. Thankfully, Belle called out, and Damon ducked back inside the car without further comment. Mickelle took a deep breath and slipped into the driver’s seat.
“Belle, why are your socks on inside out?” Damon asked as he adjusted the Velcro strap on her sling.
“So they don’t hurt, Dad. I
always
put them on that way.”
Damon glanced at Mickelle and rolled his eyes. She laughed, and the tension between them vanished. Or perhaps it had existed only in her mind. “I remember those days,” she said. “Boy, do I ever.”
She drove home slowly, oddly wishing that her time with Damon wouldn’t end. “I’ll let you know about the car,” he said as she pulled up the drive.
“Which car?” she asked with a laugh.
“Oh, that’s right. Both cars.” There was amusement in his voice. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“All right.” That sounded good. Really good.
She shut off the engine, and Jeremy was out of the car in a shot. “I’m going to tell Bryan what happened—if he’s home!”
Belle was asleep in the backseat, and Damon had barely lifted her out when Jeremy barreled back outside. “Mom! That cop is inside with Bryan. He’s waiting for you!”
Mickelle paled. “Oh, is it seven already?”
“Is something wrong?” Damon looked at her reassuringly. “Maybe I can help.”
She didn’t want to tell him, though it should make no difference. It wasn’t as if they had any sort of relationship—not even remotely. And he had a date for tonight, as well. At least she would not look desperate in front of him.
Lifting her chin firmly, she said, “Thank you, but there’s no trouble. He’s here for me. We’re going out tonight.”
“For dinner,” Jeremy added.
Damon eyed the bag of burgers in her hand, and Mickelle felt her face redden. What was it about this man that made her feel so sensitive?
“I’ll give these to Bryan. I guess I won’t need . . .” Mickelle trailed off, feeling more idiotic by the moment.
“Have a good time,” Damon said lightly. He smiled at her over the child asleep in his arms, and Mickelle felt her stomach flip-flop as though she were a young girl having her first crush on a member of the opposite sex. “Would you open the door to my car?” he asked. “So I can put Belle inside?”
Mickelle nodded and took the keys from his hand.
There was a noise, and Mickelle glanced up to see Jim Lowder come out on the porch with Bryan. She waved at him. To her relief, he didn’t come down to the sidewalk as she opened the door of the Lexus.
Damon paused before placing Belle in the car. “Thanks for sharing your doctor. And for going with us. I enjoyed your company.”
“You’re welcome. It
was
rather fun for a broken arm.” Mickelle didn’t know what to say next, but she couldn’t keep staring into the amber eyes that almost seemed to see into her soul. She finally managed to focus her gaze on Belle, cuddled in his arms. “Sleeping beauty.” She smoothed Belle’s hair and gently kissed the child’s forehead with all the longing she held in her heart. How she wished she could keep Belle with her! What if she woke in the night and needed someone?
Damon will be there. He’s a good father.
She felt his eyes on her and risked looking at him. There was an emotion on his face she couldn’t identify. For long seconds, they said nothing. The tension she had felt between them earlier had returned—not an awkward tension, but a delicious one she never wanted to end.
Aware that Jim and the boys were waiting, Mickelle spoke. “I hope she doesn’t have too much pain tonight.”
“Well, she seems to be all right now.” He settled Belle flat on the seat, fastening the seat belt despite her awkward position. “I’ll be in touch with you tomorrow about the cars.”