Once in Every Life

What if he hurt him? What if he had a blackout? What if?

235

"Enough." Lifting his chin, he crammed his fists against his thighs and walked slowly toward his wife's bedroom.

He pushed open the closed door and stood in the doorway. Through the slats of the cradle he'd made, he could see Caleb's tiny body writhing, his small fists batting at the air. The blue blanket was a twisted heap along his side.

Jack tried to move, but couldn't. Fear and dread immobilized him. He was afraid, desperately afraid, to reach out to this child?his own son?and try.

The realization made him sick. His stomach twisted into a knot. He was such a coward, such a goddamn useless coward.

Caleb sucked in a shuddering breath, and there was a moment of blissful silence.

Jack's own breathing stumbled. Maybe he wouldn't have to move, maybe?

Then Caleb started up again. This time his cry was a high-pitched, quavering wail that pinged down every vertebra in Jack's tightened spine.

He's afraid, too.

The thought came out of nowhere. He tried to talk himself out of it, tried to tell himself the baby was hungry or sleepy or just plain mad, and that he couldn't possibly know what the hell his son was feeling. None of the feeble explanations made any difference.

He couldn't make himself believe them. Your son is alone and he's afraid. He needs you.

"Not me," he whispered. "He needs a father. Not some broken-down shell ..."

You're all he's got.

He moved hesitantly forward. With each step a noose seemed to tighten around his throat. By the time he reached the cradle, Jack was trembling and couldn't breathe worth shit.

Shakily he kneeled. "Hi, fella, what's the matter?"

236

Caleb cried harder.

Jack edged closer and reached over the wooden railing, touching his son's tear-moistened face. "There, there."

Jack felt like an idiot. His voice was thick with emotion, and he couldn't think of a single thing to say. What the hell good was "there, there" to a baby who wanted to be

comforted?

Cautiously he let his fingers slide under Caleb's tiny back and curl soothingly under his arm. The warm contact seemed to have some effect. Caleb hiccuped loudly and drew in a shaky breath. His tiny fists unfurled.

A tiny thread of hope crept through Jack's fear. He brought his other hand to the cradle and gently picked Caleb up.

Caleb blinked up at him in surprise. Huge, quivering

tears clung to his tiny lashes.

Jack stared down at the small, beet red face and felt a fierce wave of love. He pressed the baby tightly against his chest, and walked slowly to the bed.

He sat down with a sigh of relief. He hadn't dropped

Caleb. Thank God.

When his heart stopped racing, he stretched out on the soft tick and let his iron-hard hold ease. Caleb lay quietly on Jack's chest, his murky blue-gray eyes fixed on Jack's

face.