A Daughter's Trust

She seemed to be taking it all so calmly. But then she wasn’t looking him in the eye, so it was hard to tell what was really going on with her.

Rick was trying not to puke.

“How old is he?”

“Three months.”

“Three months old and his own father did this to him?”

“Yeah. Crazy world we live in, isn’t it?”

“People really are capable of anything, aren’t they?”

“Some people are.”

Rick didn’t get it. He didn’t want to get it. He wanted to grab Carrie and take her home. To protect her from every ugly thing that existed in the world. To keep her safe and secluded and alive.

Which was exactly what Sue had accused him of wanting to do. Suffocating her.

She let him bathe Carrie after dinner, standing over him with Jake in her arms. And she followed him into the nursery to watch as he kissed the girl and laid her gently on her back. “Sweet dreams and God’s care, little one,” he whispered. Just as he’d done every single night of Hannah’s life. And as he’d do every single night he put any children, present or future, to bed. Some things were just that important.

As he turned, Sue met his gaze for the first time that night. Her eyes were bright with tears.

“I…”

“Shhh.” He indicated the crib. “It’s okay.”

And it was. Whatever it was. He walked behind her into the hall.

“I guess I’ll be going,” he said, but he didn’t move. “Unless…do you need some help bathing him?”

Maybe, with his help, she could wash the baby without applying pressure to his injury.

“I…” She looked at him and then away. “Thanks,” she said, heading toward the bathroom again, and the infant bath secured inside the tub. As soon as he was inside, she turned back to Rick.

“Prepare yourself.”

He’d been looking at the little guy’s face all night. He was prepared. Or thought he was. Until she unsnapped the sleeper covering Jake’s discolored and misshapen body. Then he made a dash for the toilet and threw up.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

SUE LAY BACK in the chair in her family room, Jake lying on her chest, sound asleep. She’d changed into a soft cotton pajama top and flannel pants an hour before, while Rick made them a salad and toast for dinner. She’d tried to resist, but Carrie was in bed. She wasn’t playing favorites. And tonight she needed a friend.

She needed Rick.

With one hand resting gently at Jake’s back, she reassured the unconscious child that he was safe. Her heartbeat beneath his little body would hopefully do the same.

“What happened to his mother?” Rick asked, tie gone and the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone as he lounged in a corner of the couch.

Like he was going to stay awhile. Sue wasn’t going to tell him to leave.

“She’s in rehab.”

His expression didn’t outwardly change, but Sue felt the tension emanating from him. “Let me guess,” he said calmly, “she won’t sign papers to give him up.”

“She’s trying to get herself clean.”

“Umm-hmm.” He had the air of one who’d seen it all too many times before. And he had. But…