Page 12 of Spark
While she’s distracted, I take care of Grandma Rosie, getting her fed and making sure she takes all of her medication. Once that’s done, I can finally investigate the source of the sound, which has now moved to the backyard. Hesitantly, I open the door and find a shirtless, sweaty Walker cutting down the fallen trees crisscrossing the property.
Stunned, a little confused, and a whole lot turned on, all I can do is watch as he works. The strong patchwork of muscles covering his back flex and contract with every movement. The sheen of sweat emphasizes each curve and bulge. He pauses to drink from a water bottle and uses the remnants to spray over his body, making him look like a real-life Chippendale’s commercial. The sight of the water makes me realize my throat has gone dry and if it weren’t for that, I’d be drooling.
Turning, he spots me standing on the back porch ogling him. The chainsaw cuts off, leaving a deafening silence in its wake. I swallow back my apprehension and put a damper on the raging hormones that had roared to life the moment they saw him.
“What are you doing?” I ask in a neutral tone, my voice raised to cover the distance.
He lifts the chainsaw in a gesture toward the tree. “Cutting down this tree for you.”
I lift a brow. “I can see that. I guess the more appropriate question would bewhyare you cutting it down?”
“Because I had the time and the ability. Are you complaining about it?” There’s a hard twist to his mouth I haven’t seen before. So he hasn’t forgiven me yet, not that I thought he would. He has a right to be bitter, mad, disappointed or maybe all of the above.
“No, I’m just wondering why. You don’t have to do these things for us.”
“What things?”
I wave a hand to our surroundings. “You don’t have to get us a generator and gas or clear out my backyard. Those things aren’t your responsibility.”
“Like you didn’t think a baby was my responsibility.”
“That’s not fair.”
“I think in this circumstance, I’ll get to decide what’s fair.” He props the chainsaw on the tree stump and moves closer to me. “I’ve had a lot of time to think over the past few weeks and I think what pisses me off the most is that you made the decision for me about one of the most important things that can happen in a man’s life. That wasn’t fair. You don’t get to make that choice for someone else.”
I don’t know if it’s the hormones, the heat, or the sting of righteous condemnation in his eyes, but I find my own temper rising. “That’s what being a parent is all about. You think I didn’t agonize about not trying harder to find you and let you know? It’s all I thought about since I found out I was pregnant. But it wasn’t about me and it wasn’t about you. I had to do what I thought was best for my daughter. I’ve been through the loss of a parent. I didn’t want to do that to her.”
His eyes flash. “And what makes you think she’d have to lose me?”
“Look at your job! You jump into fires for a living, Walker. You’re gone most of the time and there could be a day when you don’t come back. What kind of life is that for a child? Would you want that for her?” When he doesn’t answer, I push on. “It was that indecision that kept me from trying harder. That and we didn’t know each other! We only spent one night together. How was I supposed to know the right thing to do? I made a mistake. I’m human. I promise I’m going to make more of them. Becoming a parent will surely teach you that.” Striving for calm, I continue, “But I want to make things right. I want you to meet her. To figure out what you want your place in her life to be. Whatever that is, we’ll deal with it and I promise as long as you’re in our lives, I won’t ever keep anything from you again.”
When he says, “Are you done?” I nearly impale him with the chainsaw.
Instead, I gesture for him to speak before I commit a felony.
“I don’t know where you and I go from here.” I can’t hide my wince at that, but it’s what I was expecting. “But I do know I want the chance to figure this out. I never planned on having a family, for the reasons you listed and more, but she’s here and she’s mine. I owe it to her and to me to see exactly what that means.”
I know if I don’t say the words then I never will, so I blurt, “And us?”
His gaze meets mine. The spark I felt when we first met blazes to life between us. Sensing it, he takes a step back and I can’t deny that hurts. “I don’t know about us. I think we should take this slow and focus on one thing at a time. The baby—what did you say her name was?”
“Rosalynn, for my grandma. Rosalynn Grace. I mostly call her Gracie, though.”
“Gracie,” he murmurs, his eyes a little misty. “Well, Gracie deserves our attention now.”
I know this is progress, I know I should be happy, but I can’t help but feel like I’ve lost something that could have been amazing.
Chapter 9
Walker
“I’m not sure if I ever really thanked you for the generator. It was really a lifesaver. I think Grandma Rosie would have melted without it.” Her shy little smile throws me back to the night we met. How I thought I’d do anything just to see her aim that smile in my direction. “So thank you, really. I appreciate it more than you know.”
“You’re welcome, but I bet you’re happy to have electricity back on.” I pass Gracie from one arm to another. For a baby, she certainly has some chunk on her. She grins toothlessly at me and I find myself smiling back down at her. My family and I aren’t close anymore. I come back to Battleboro to check on them because I imagine it’s what my brother would want me to do so the feelings of love and connection I feel so quickly for this little girl simply astound me. “Aren’t you Gracie-girl?”
“More than you know. Do they have power restored where you’re at?” Avery asks.
“Last week. I have to tell you, it was nice taking a hot shower again.” I don’t say that I’m almost sad about it. Restoring utilities, getting most of the roads cleared for the most part, it means I won’t be as needed here. The fire department is already scaling back hours for the volunteers. I never thought I’d say it, but I almost like the small crew of down-to-earth guys there. A far cry from the egos I’m used to.