instead of her tumbling emotions. Even as a favor to Olivia, Millie had no intention of sticking around where she wasn’t wanted. She made the mistake of turning around halfway through the yard when the little girl cried out.
Jake was struggling down the porch steps, his daughter clutched to his side as he balanced most of his weight on the nonbooted foot. “Are you really going to make me chase after you like this?” he asked as she met his gaze.
“I thought things were all good,” she said as she retraced her steps toward the house.
He stood at the edge of the grass. “I’m used to taking care of myself. Needing help is a bit of a foreign concept.”
“Everyone needs help from time to time.”
He pursed his mouth into a thin line. “Not me.”
Jake was clearly disconcerted by his current circumstances, and Millie felt a twinge of sympathy for him. She could spout platitudes about everyone needing help, but she’d been fending for herself long enough to understand his reluctance to rely on another person.
Before she could answer, Brooke squirmed in her father’s arms and he reached out to steady her. Millie saw him wince as the girl’s elbow jabbed into his splinted wrist. He lowered Brooke slowly to the ground and she clung to his leg. Millie noticed that liquid from the sopping wet stuffed animal had not only drenched his shirt, which now clung to a set of enviably hard abs, but a trail of wetness also leaked into the black orthopedic boot that covered his leg.
He didn’t seem to notice, just stared at his daughter as if he wasn’t sure how he’d ended up with a small child wrapped around him.
Millie cleared her throat and he looked up. “Sorry. I haven’t been a dad for very long. It’s still sometimes amazing that she’s really mine.”
“How old are you, Brooke?” Millie asked, squatting down to the girl’s level.
Brooke, suddenly shy, kept her gaze on her bunny but held up four fingers.
Millie glanced at Jake, her eyebrows raised.
“What did Logan and Olivia tell you about me?” he asked.
“Not much,” she admitted. “That you’re a surgeon who travels around the world. You were injured during an earthquake on an island near Haiti and need help with your daughter while you recover.”
One side of his mouth curved. “That’s an abbreviated version.”
“So I gathered,” Millie answered. She held out a hand to Brooke. “Sweetie, can I help you give Bunny a bath? She’s dripping all over your daddy’s leg.”
“Bunny’s a boy,” Brooke and her father said at the same time.
Millie smiled. “He’s not going to smell very good if that juice dries on him. How about we wash him off, then you can watch while he goes in the dryer?”
Brooke released the death hold she had on Jake’s leg the tiniest bit. “He wants a bubble bath.”
“Of course he does.” Millie straightened and took a step forward, wiggling her fingers. “Can you show me the bathroom? We’ll take good care of him.”
With a tentative nod, Brooke took Millie’s hand. This brought her only a few inches from Jake, who smelled like a strangely intriguing mix of grape juice and laundry detergent. “I’d like to understand the whole story,” she said quietly.
He nodded, his deep blue eyes intent on hers. “I’ll get changed then explain it.” He lowered his voice and added, “I’d rather not discuss the details in front of Brooke.”
The little girl tugged her toward the house. “Bunny wants to smell good.”
Millie started to follow but paused as Jake pressed his uninjured hand to her bare arm. She almost flinched but caught herself, focusing on the warmth of his fingers.
His hand lifted immediately. “I just wanted to say thank you.”
“I haven’t done anything yet.”
He leaned in to whisper in her ear, “My daughter hasn’t cried for the past fifteen minutes. You have no idea what an accomplishment that is.”
Although she knew it meant nothing, Millie was surprised to feel a tiny kernel of happiness unfurl in her chest along with a shimmer of awareness for Jake Travers. Best to ignore the awareness and focus on the happiness. It had been so long since she’d accomplished anything of value in her life. She’d learned to appreciate even the smallest victory.
“It’s going to be okay, Jake,” she said, hoping beyond all reason that she could make it true for both of them.
It took Jake longer than he wanted to get cleaned up, which was one more thing to add to his current list of frustrations. As a surgeon with Miles of Medicine, an international medical humanitarian organization, he was used to moving quickly. He’d made efficiency a priority in his life—in movement, time and, most important, relationships. He lived simply, able to pack up with an hour’s notice based on where he was most needed.
The place he was most needed right now was in Brooke’s life, but it galled him how inept and incapable he felt. He hadn’t even bothered with a proper shower because the hassle of maneuvering himself in and out with his ankle and arm wasn’t worth the trouble. Without the boot or splint, he couldn’t put weight on his right leg or use his right arm. Instead he’d done his best to wash off the sticky juice residue in the master bath before dressing in his current uniform of a T-shirt and baggy shorts, the only clothes he could change into quickly despite his injuries.
The door to the guest bathroom was closed as he came down the hall. He was grateful his sister-in-law had found him a rental property with two bathrooms in the main part of the house so that Brooke could have her own space. He couldn’t make out the words over the sound of running water but could hear her sweet voice rising and falling as she spoke to Millie Spencer.
Unwilling to deal with the reality of how much he needed help quite yet, he started the monumental task of cleaning the kitchen. He’d wiped down most of the counters and covered the floor with almost half a roll of paper towels before Millie followed Brooke into the room.
His daughter cradled Bunny in her arms in a fluffy towel. “Daddy, sniff.” She held out the stuffed animal to him. “He smells so good.”
He breathed deeply but all he got was a big whiff of wet fake fur. “That’s nice,” he told Brooke.
Millie grinned at him over Brooke’s head. “Laundry room?”
“To your left just past the table.”
She carried a small plastic stool in her hands. “Let’s get Bunny dry, Brooke. You can watch him spin while your daddy and I talk.”
To Jake’s surprise, Brooke nodded. Since he’d brought his daughter to Crimson, the only time she would let him out of her sight was when she slept. Maybe Millie Spencer was some sort of kid whisperer. Jake sure as hell needed one.
