Come over here. Let me see that cool truck of yours.” The boy hesitated only a moment before standing and coming to him. He stopped within the circle of Seth’s body, and he was struck again by how small and frail the child was. His throat tightened. Jack was a baby. Too young to be abandoned by the one who should love him most. Seth sent up a grateful prayer that Carrie had been the person to find him and that Jack was now safe with him.
“That’s a really sharp looking truck you have, buddy.”
“It’s a supertruck.”
Seth smiled at the sincere look in his blue eyes. It was the most Jack had said all evening. He hoped that meant he was feeling more comfortable. “Awesome. What does it do?”
Jack fingered the battered toy. “It can fly.” He angled the toy into the air. “It can go way faster than anything.”
“That’s cool.”
A frown tugged his little brows downward. “What’s your name?”
The simple question hit with the force of a sledgehammer to his solar plexus. That was the biggest question of his life. What did he tell the child? While his instincts said Jack was his son, if he was wrong it would be wise to keep some emotional distance for both their sakes. He searched for a compromise. “My name is Seth, but how about you call me Pop?”
Jack thought a moment, then smiled. “That’s a silly name.”
He picked Jack up and set him on his lap. “It’s what we used to call my dad. It’s sort of a special nickname.”
“Are you my dad?”
The longing in the little voice tore through him. He pulled the boy closer. “We’re going to figure that out together, okay?” The odor from his dirty clothing assaulted Seth’s nose.
Carrie had pointed out that he needed a bath. It was after eight o’clock. Time for Jack to be asleep. Reaching for the plastic sack, Seth pulled out what he hoped were clean clothes but proved to be little more than rags. His shoes had holes in the toes, the thin T-shirt was useless and there was no clean underwear at all. How could Tiff have treated the boy this way? She’d had her problems, but he’d never imagined her as an unfit mother. Who was he kidding? He didn’t know anything about his former wife. That was the problem.
His problem now was what to do with Jack. The clothes he wore would probably disintegrate in the washer. This was a bachelor household. He’d only been back in Dover a few weeks, and he’d been too busy getting settled into his house and his new role as a Dover police officer to think of much else.
He needed help. Seth rubbed his forehead. There was only one person he could turn to, and he dreaded asking. A glance at the clock pointed out how late it was. Jack needed to go to bed. He picked up his phone and dialed Carrie’s number. “Hey, Carrie.”
“Seth? Is Jack okay? What’s wrong?”
“Jack’s fine, but I need your help.” He could sense her resistance through the connection. He hoped she wouldn’t turn him down. “I went through the things in Jack’s bag. None of the clothes are wearable, and the ones he has on should be tossed. I want to give him a bath, but I don’t have anything for him to put on afterward. I thought maybe you had a small shirt or something.”
“No, nothing that tiny. I’ll be right over.”
She was at the door within moments, and clearly unhappy to be there. She’d changed from the simple skirt and top she’d worn earlier to dark sweatpants and a T-shirt with a faded logo on the front. She looked younger, more approachable. Jack ran and hugged her, a big smile lighting his face. Seth’s concern eased a bit. Carrie would know what to do. “Any suggestions?”
“You’ll have to go shopping.”
“Now? Where? It’s Friday night in Dover. Every place is closed.”
“Not all. The Dollar General is open. They’ll have everything you need. I’ll stay here and give Jack his bath.”
Seth ran a hand down the back of his neck. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but shopping hadn’t entered the picture. “I don’t know anything about what a kid needs.”
“He needs the same things you do, only in smaller sizes. For now we’ll guess at those. Probably size 4.” Carrie scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to him. “He’ll need pj’s, jeans, T-shirts, shoes and socks, underwear and a jacket.”
“All that to go to bed?”
“He can’t wear pajamas all the time.”
She looked at him as if he was the dumbest man on the planet. And he was when it came to kids. “Right.” He scanned the list. It seemed simple enough, but he’d rather stay and give Jack his bath and let her go to the store. But he didn’t know anything about that, either.
“Okay. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He grabbed his jacket and started for the door.
“Seth, add a toothbrush to your list. And maybe a stuffed animal.”
He wasn’t sure why the toy had been added, but he nodded and opened the door. He stopped, glancing over his shoulder. “Thanks, Carrie. I really appreciate your help.”
“I’m doing this for Jack.”
Her tone clearly showed her displeasure with him. Did she still have him pegged as a deadbeat dad? He didn’t like being seen that way. He’d have to change her mind and show her that he wasn’t that kind of man, though why her opinion should matter left him puzzled. She wasn’t even his type. He’d always been drawn to the tall, dark, sultry types, with long hair and even longer legs. Maybe that was his problem. Maybe he should be looking for someone real, with a gentle spirit and fierce love for kids.
Except he wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship. Not in the near future.
* * *
Carrie ran her fingers over Jack’s soft, freshly washed hair. After his bath she’d wrapped him in a towel, and together they’d snuggled on the sofa to wait for Seth. The child was tired and the warm bath had lulled him close to sleep, but for some reason he was fighting it. Every few moments he’d glance at the door. She realized he was waiting for Seth to return and probably wouldn’t sleep until he was home.
He’d already called four times with questions. What’s the difference between a size 4 and a 4T? Did little boys like red or blue pj’s? How did he buy shoes when he didn’t know the size? And would a dog or a bear be a better stuffed toy?
She had to give him credit. He was trying. He could have easily grabbed the first thing he’d seen and dashed home.
Pulling a magazine from the small stack on the end table, she flipped to a page and began to read softly, “‘When working with a lathe, it’s important to keep a steady pressure on the gouge to ensure the proper depth and angle of the design. This master kit of gouge tools includes everything you’ll need to create the perfect spindles, bowls and other—’”
“I never realized a woodworking catalog had bedtime-story appeal.”
Carrie started when she heard Seth’s voice behind her. She hadn’t heard him come in, so content was
