A basket of laundry—whether clean or dirty, he wasn’t sure—was beside one of the chairs. Clearly Brooke needed help—the nanny she’d advertised for so that she could operate her business and take care of the everyday stuff.
Yup, she wasn’t waiting for his answer, which made him think she wasn’t ready to hear what he had to say. She went into the living room and put the two bottles on the coffee table, then came back into the kitchen and picked up Morgan. He picked up Mikey and followed her, settling next to her on the couch.
He watched the way she laid Morgan slightly upright, giving the baby the bottle. He did the same with Mikey, then was about to answer her question. About the promise.
“Have multiples yourself?” she asked before he could. “Is that why you’re so good with Morgan and Mikey?”
He almost laughed. “Kids? Me? No. Not the marrying kind, not the dad kind. I got some unexpected baby-care experience overseas. Long story.” And one he wasn’t interested in talking about. The less he thought about what he’d been through in Afghanistan, the better.
“Well, it’s nice to have someone else to help so they can both eat at the same time,” she said. “I had a wonderful nanny the first two months, but she had to leave town to help her own daughter. I guess I’ve been so focused on taking care of the twins that I’ve neglected everything else. I’m sure you noticed the state of the kitchen.”
“You’re busy and on your own,” he said. “A single mother, raising baby twins alone, running a business—something has to be put off, and it sure as hell should be the dishes.”
She laughed. “Right? I agree.” The smile faded fast and she slid a glance his way.
He tilted the bottle up as Mikey drank it down, then inwardly sighed. This was not going to be easy.
“So, about the promise you made,” she said. She closed her eyes for a second as if bracing herself again, then opened them, keeping her attention on the baby in her arms.
He cleared his throat. “Will asked me to check on you and to pass along a message.”
She stared at him hard. “He asked you to check on me? Why? It’s been nearly a year since he sent me a Dear Jane email, so I’m surprised he cares one iota about me—or the twins.”
“Will was killed six weeks ago,” he said as gently as he could. But there was no gentle way to say such a thing.
He lowered his head out of respect for the fallen soldier, and to give Brooke some privacy with her emotions.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered. “What happened?”
“IED—improvised explosive device. I might have been killed if he hadn’t thrown himself on top of me. He took the brunt of it.”
“Oh God.” She shook her head.
“Will and I had never been close or even friends, really. But we were from the same hometown, and that connected us. Maybe that was why he saved my life. Or maybe he’d always had that in him and I didn’t know it.”
“That he could be a hero?” she asked, tears in her eyes.
He nodded. “Will liked to make jokes, pull pranks. Never all that serious about anything. And then he saved my life. Can’t get more serious than throwing yourself on another soldier to protect him.”
They were quiet for a moment, and she nodded.
“Will was fading,” he finally continued, “but I could see he wanted to tell me something. He said there was a woman from Wedlock Creek, a beautiful, kind, good person named Brooke Timber, who he did wrong. Ghosted her when she told him she was pregnant with twins, then sent an email that he wasn’t cut out for fatherhood and they’d all be better off without him.”
Her lips tightened. “That’s almost verbatim. All two lines of the email.”
He glanced at her for a moment. She was waiting for him to continue. “Then Will said, ‘Garroway, will you check on her when you get home? Make sure she’s all right? See if she needs anything?’ And I assured him I would. The last thing he said was, ‘Tell her I’m sorry. She deserved better.’” He winced, remembering the look on Parker’s face. The regret.
She smoothed her hand over Morgan’s wispy dark hair. “Your daddy was a hero,” she whispered to the baby. “And he sent a guardian angel to check on us. That’s not nothing.”
The backs of his eyes stung, and he blinked hard.
“Well, message delivered,” she said, slashing a hand under each eye and standing up. “As you can see, we’re okay. Everything is okay.”
“Waaah!” Morgan started crying, the little face crumpling and turning red.
She closed her eyes and took a breath, then opened them. “I need to burp and change Morgan. Thank you for coming, Nick. You can put Mikey in his swing in the kitchen and let yourself out,” she added before rushing from the room with Morgan.
Was she crying? Just emotional? Needing to be alone and get control of herself?
You can let yourself out... He could, indeed. Mission accomplished, right?
But there was no way he was leaving. Because Brooke wasn’t all right. And he’d promised the soldier who’d saved his life that he’d make sure she was.
He looked down at the baby in his arms, the blue-green-hazel eyes staring up at him so trustingly.
Nick didn’t always get it right, but he wasn’t about to get this wrong.
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