"You don't drive a motorcycle?" I asked.

"I ride a motorcycle, yes. But I had my grandkids, and their mother doesn't like when I give them rides on my bike," he said as he put the truck in gear.

I giggled. "I'm sure she doesn't."

"My son doesn't give me the opportunity to watch his kids very often. Sam's very protective of his kids, so I do my best to not p.i.s.s them off. I would hate to lose the kids over something like that," he said softly as he motored out of the hospital parking lot.

I looked over at him, noting the strained look on his face. "How many grandkids do you have?"

"Seven," he beamed. "Another one on the way."

I smiled at him. "That's great. My best friend just adopted a baby with his husband. I love her to death. She's a tiny little thing, though."

Silas gave me a funny look, but didn't comment on the whole gay marriage with a family thing. I knew what he was thinking, though.

"Do you know where I live?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yep."

"Okay," I said as we pa.s.sed the miles to my house in silence.

He didn't speak again until he was pulling into the driveway. "I'll check your place, and then you can go inside. Okay?"

"Fine with me," I agreed.

It was, too.

I didn't care that he wanted to go into my house. It was wonderful to have someone watch out for me. You didn't realize how scary a dark house could be until it was pitch black and you lived alone.

I forgot how nice it was.

Silas made a quick sweep through my house, albeit extremely thorough.

"Thanks for the ride," I said as he started to leave.

He turned to me. "I'll see you on Sat.u.r.day."

With that he left, closing the door quietly behind him.

"What's Sat.u.r.day?" I yelled.

He didn't answer.

But I knew one thing.

There was no way I'd see him on Sat.u.r.day, because that'd probably mean I'd be seeing Cleo, and that was one complication that I didn't need.

Nor want.

And I was lying.

I did want him. A lot.

There was just no way I'd take him back.

Not again.

Chapter 4.

Watch other people's kids. They'll cure you of wanting some of your own right quick.

-Life lesson Rue "I've never taken care of a baby, though," I said to Cody as he handed his daughter over.

Then he left, and came back with what looked like the rest of Babies-R-Us. Dooley, Cody's husband, followed shortly behind with a box looking thing which sprung into a baby bed in the middle of my living room.

Whoa!

"That's cool," I said. "But, seriously. What's going on?"

"We both have strep, and we don't want her to get it. You also have the next two days off. That's enough time for us to get the antibiotics in our systems before she comes back around us," Cody said nasally.

"I thought it was the stomach flu," I looked around alarmed. "I really have no experience with babies. This one is tiny, too."

Marie was three months old, and although much more st.u.r.dy than she had been when they'd gotten her two months ago, she was still extremely small.

I didn't even have a dog. How was I supposed to know how to take care of a kid?

"Rue, you're a nurse. I'm sure you can figure it out. You wipe a.s.s for a living anyway. You'll be fine," Cody explained patiently.

I looked at the little girl in my arms and grimaced. "Okay, but only until tomorrow. You only need twenty four hours to get the antibiotics in your system."

Cody smiled slightly before waving as he exited the house with Dooley hot on his heels.

Poor Dooley had it even worse than Cody.

He couldn't even talk, which was bad since he was a public speaker.

He was a motivational speaker and advocate for teens, as well as a youth probation officer.

"Thank you," Cody said as he started heading for the door. "Call if you need anything."

I watched them go, anxiety starting to take over.

I looked down at the little girl in my arms, and nearly wept.

It astounded me with the amount of trust Cody and Dooley had in me. To trust me to take care of the most important thing in their life was staggering.

Rue I stared at the crying baby, unsure what to do.

"Why are you crying?" I whimpered with her.

I was fl.u.s.tered.

The baby had started crying within an hour of being dropped off, and now, three hours later, was still whimpering.

She'd been fed, changed, bathed, and now I was just holding her.

Cody had been no help, either.

"I forgot to tell you, sometimes she just gets colicky," Cody said mournfully, and then proceeded that statement by throwing up.

I hung up on that undesirable sound.

I wasn't into puking at work, and I wasn't into it at home, either.

I was about to change her diaper for the seventh time in just as many hours when a knock sounded from the front door.

I walked to it cautiously, looked out the peephole, and then sighed.

My heart started fluttering, and my belly turned into a ma.s.s of emotions that ranged from happy, to distraught, right back to ecstatic.

He was just what I needed.

Punching in the numbers on the keypad, I unarmed the door, unlocked it, and opened it.

"Hey," I said hesitantly. "What are you doing here?"

Cleo's eyes immediately fastened on the baby, and his brows furrowed.

Then a look of horror, and sudden realization hit him.

"What have you done?" He whispered.

Confused, I looked down at the little girl and then back to him before asking, "What do you mean, what have I done?"

"I listened to all the messages you left me. Each and every one. If you'd have just said, I would've called back. I would've never left," he growled.

"What're you talking about?" I snapped. "Seriously, you're freaking me the f.u.c.k out."

I was fl.u.s.tered, and now I was angry.

What was he going on about?

"You kept my own freakin' kid from me!" He bellowed.

The mild mannered man I'd never seen raise his voice, even once, yelled at me.

Yelled at me.

"What kid?" I asked.

"That kid!" he bellowed, pointing to a fascinated Marie.

I set Marie down in her playpen, thankful she'd stopped crying for the moment, and turned to the daft man.

"Are you drunk? On drugs?" I asked walking up to him and putting my hand on his forehead.

He backed off from my touch.

I told myself that it didn't hurt that he flinched at my touch, but I was lying.

"Tell me," he hissed.

Cleo It all made sense.

A lot of sick sense.

I'd been disappointed when she'd stopped calling me.

I'd kept every single voicemail she'd ever left me, and when I started to get low, I'd listen to them just to hear her voice.