“I couldn’t. Mom would have either bailed on her dream trip or spent the summer fretting about not being here. I’m not doing that to her.”
Beside Hannah in the car seat, the sleeping baby began to stir. Hannah offered Bree the pacifier that had fallen onto her tummy. The baby sucked and settled, and Hannah asked Boone, “So now what?”
“Well, Plan B, I guess, if we can figure out what it is. We can’t go on to the ranch. I’m sure Dad will check in with the managers, and those guys and the ranch hands aren’t any better at keeping secrets than a bunch of eight-year-olds. If you’re up for it, we might as well head for home. We can take our time, and stop for the night when you think it’s best for you and Bree.”
“That sounds good to me.”
“Okay. Then that’s what we’ll do.”
But instead of pulling out of the parking lot, Boone moved the car into the drive-through line. He responded to her silent, curious look by saying, “It’s a day to celebrate. There’s nothing more Texan than savoring a Dairy Queen dip cone on a hot summer day.”
They were five miles down the road, and Hannah was half finished with her soft-serve ice cream cone dipped in chocolate, when Boone asked, “Hannah? As I consider my options, is there any chance that I can change your mind about continuing to fill in as Bree’s nanny until Serena is able to take over?”
Hannah’s heart twisted. She gazed down at the infant, who chose that moment to open her eyes. Big blue eyes. Just like Zoe’s.
“I’m sorry, Boone. I know you’re in a bind, and I wish I could help, but you can’t count on me. I can’t count on me. We’re still in the top of the first inning, and I’m not sure I’m going to make it to the third out, much less the bottom of the ninth. Bree is an angel, but I need to take baby steps where babies are concerned. I simply can’t be your Plan B.”
Boone took it in stride, saying, “Fair enough. Didn’t hurt to ask.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“Then let me ask you something else. I will find a solution to my nanny problem, so set that aside. I respect your baby steps. But I could really use a friend right now, especially one who understands what went down the past week. Would you stay in Eternity Springs for a while and be that friend? I give you my word that any time you spend with Bree will be on your terms.”
She considered it a long moment. She had to be somewhere. She still had several items on her Eternity Springs to-do list. What would it hurt to stay a little longer? He’d been a good friend to her so far. She could return the favor. “Baby steps,” she said. “Maybe I’ll learn to toddle.”
“Who knows?” Boone’s gaze met hers in the rearview mirror. “Maybe you’ll learn to fly.”
* * *
Boone thought about his day care dilemma all across The Big Empty, aka West Texas. He chewed on it at every diaper change and pit stop, while Hannah took a turn at driving, and when it was his turn to give Bree a bottle.
He didn’t have an answer when they decided to call it a night and check into a hotel in Amarillo. By the time morning rolled around following a mostly sleepless night of feedings every two hours, he knew he’d have to find his answer fast. So as soon as they were back on the road and with both Hannah and Bree asleep in the backseat, he did what every intelligent, Eternity Springs resident would have done under similar circumstances.
He called Celeste.
“Good morning, Boone,” she said, her voice way too chirpy for his ears. “I heard by the grapevine that you were out of town. Are you back?”
“No, ma’am. On the way, though. I hope to be back by this evening if everyone manages to tolerate a long day in the car today.”
“Everyone?” she asked, picking up on the one word in the sentence that was open to interpretation and or clarification.
“Yes. Everyone. Hannah Dupree, who you’ve met, and the new female in my life. Celeste, I’m bringing a precious cargo with me back to Eternity Springs, but the copilot I counted on helping us settle in has gone AWOL and is drinking an umbrella drink with her flip-flops propped up on a lounge chair on the lido deck.”
“I’m sorry, Boone. You’ve lost me.”
“My bad. I didn’t get much sleep last night. My mind is a glob of saltwater taffy, and thoughts are having a heckuva time pushing through. My mom and dad just left on a two-month cruise. I had hoped to tap her to help with child care until my new nanny heals from emergency surgery and joins us in Eternity Springs.”
Celeste remained silent for a long moment. “You are bringing home a child, Boone?”
“I am. I’ve adopted a little girl. She’s one month old.” He told her the highlights, then said, “I need help, Celeste. Hannah has been a trouper making the trip with me to Texas and back, but she’s not ready to sign on for six weeks. Do you think there’s someone in town who might be willing to help out a desperate new father? I can try Caitlin Tarkington’s day care if I have no other options, but I’d rather have one-on-one care for a newborn.”
“Oh, I imagine we can put our heads together and find a solution. When do you expect to be home?”
“Unless we have an unexpected meltdown, we should be there around five. No later than six, I’d imagine.”
“Very good. Expect me at seven.”
“Awesome.”
“I’ll bring dinner.”
“Even more awesome.” He told her where to find a key and invited her to make herself at home. When the call ended a few moments later, Boone felt a thousand pounds lighter. Celeste’s calm had lifted a burden from his shoulders that he’d carried all the way from the Dairy Queen in Weatherford, Texas.
The rest of the trip went relatively smoothly. They made three times more stops than he would have made had he been traveling by himself, which served to remind him of the road trips his family had taken when he and the twins were young. Boone, his mom, and Frankie could go for hours without stopping. His dad and Lara? Their bathroom breaks added fifteen minutes to every hundred miles they traveled.
Hannah was an excellent traveling companion, content to mix comfortable silences with periods of conversation. She’d been as happy as he was to hear that Celeste was ready to take on the task of finding a temporary nanny for Bree. As they crossed the border from New Mexico into Colorado, their conversation moved from favorite songs of the nineties to first paying jobs. “I worked in a boutique that sold children’s clothes.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“I did. I liked retail.”
“Oh, yeah? So were you a business major in college?”
“No. I went a different direction, but in hindsight, I think I’d have been happier in the business school.”
“Maybe you should think about managing a retail shop once you work your wander out?”
“Work my wander out?” she repeated, her smile appreciative. “I like the way that you put that.”
She considered the question a few minutes, then said, “Maybe I’ll do that. I’m going to have to do something. This insurance money I’ve been spending for the past three years won’t last forever. I have enough left that I could probably invest in a small business. If I could find the right concept, location, and situation, I might just give it a go.”