CHAPTER 26
Harper tugged her wagonthrough the sand. For the umpteenth time, it got stuck and she had to jerk, nearly knocking over her canvas which was balanced precariously on the top. “Stupid sand,” she muttered. Her anger was still simmering even though it had been two days since her court appearance.
She didn’t know exactly what she had been expecting, but at least a small part of her thought someone would let her know what had happened with Layla. If Mason got her back, wouldn’t Crew have called? Or just texted? Texting was fine. Then she wouldn’t have to listen to a voice that was a little too similar to Mason’s for comfort.
Instead, Harper had been home, trying to spend these last few days of freedom as productively as possible. She had an interview tomorrow with the school for the position of art teacher. She’d also heard back from a fabric store who was looking for someone to manage their yarn department.
Crocheting and knitting weren’t high on Harper’s artistic talents list, but she felt like it was something she could handle. The income was enough to pay the bills if she lived simply and she’d still have some time to paint and try to turn her hobby into a career.
Her mother hadn’t taken the news well. In fact, part of Harper’s bad mood came from the phone blow-up she’d experienced just yesterday morning when she’d admitted her lack of painting entry.
While Harper hadn’t confessed everything to her mother, she’d told her the pertinent parts. The story of her and Mason, and why she hadn’t finished her painting, had not been pertinent.
It wasn’t like telling her mother about Mason would change the outcome. Mason still wouldn’t want her. Harper would still have confessed everything in a courtroom. And she still wouldn’t have any idea what had happened to Layla.
With one last jerk, Harper managed to get the wagon through the sand and into the place where she was hoping to paint. She’d have to take advantage of this time before her daylight hours were taken up with other work. If she worked at the school, at least she’d have her weekends free to paint, but if she worked at the store, she couldn’t even guarantee that. Customers didn’t always wait until Monday.
Harper set up her easel and began putting everything into place. Her small table, her paints, her canvas...lastly she plopped a stool in the sand and sat down, grabbing her sketchbook. She could do a few sketches first, things she’d be able to paint from memory later when she didn’t have time to sit by the ocean.
She opened the book and Layla’s large eyes greeted her. Harper huffed out a defeated breath. How she missed that girl. Layla would never know what Harper went through to try and help her, but that was okay. Harper didn’t need the recognition. All she wanted was closure.
“Soon,” she assured herself. Surely she would know something soon.
She traced her finger down Layla’s cheek, then couldn’t resist doing the same to the broad outline of Mason’s shoulder. There was another person who wouldn’t understand what Harper had given up. Not that Mason would care, but sometimes it hurt to know he’d never understand. Harper didn’t want praise, but at least some mutual understanding would be nice. At least knowing he wasn’t disgusted with her, or that he wouldn’t turn away if she ever walked into the same room.
She shook her head. “Wishful thinking, Harp. Time to get your head out of the clouds and back on the ground where it belongs.” She began flipping pages to get to a blank spot, but the loose picture of Layla caught the breeze and fluttered again. “Crud!” Harper threw the book in the wagon and ran after the loose sheet.
It slapped into a leg and Harper paused. A large hand reached down, picking it up, and Harper followed the hand, gasping when she realized who it was. Her heart slammed against her chest and Harper stumbled back a step or two, as if distance would help her gain control of herself.
“Hello, Angel,” Mason said carefully.
Layla squealed and reached for Harper, but she tightened her fists behind her back. “Mason.”
Layla bucked and Mason set her down. Her tiny legs struggled in the sand, but eventually she crossed the cavern between the adults and Harper picked her up. A long sigh left her as she cuddled the little one close. “I missed you,” Harper breathed, taking in the sweet scent of baby shampoo. She kissed Layla’s head and fought back tears. The next couple days were going to be horrific, but oh...the moment was worth it.
As usual, Layla didn’t respond verbally, but she bounced, smiled and squeezed Harper around the throat until Harper was sure she’d suffocate.
Mason cleared his throat and Harper forced herself to look up.
“I see you got her back.”
Mason smiled and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks to you.”
Harper shrugged. “I didn’t do so much.”
He raised an eyebrow. “No? You didn’t give up your chance to enter that competition down in California in order to come to my...our rescue?”
Harper’s eyes bugged open. “How did you hear about that?”
Mason took a step forward. “And you didn’t lose your chance at regaining your trust money by not entering the competition?”
Harper pinched her lips together. “I see someone’s been talking to Aspen.” It had to have been her. Riley, Maeve and Aspen were the only ones who knew the story and Aspen was the biggest talker.
Mason’s huge shoulders shrugged. “I thought it good to come prepared.” He looked down and Harper realized he was still holding the sketch.
Her pulse skipped. “Um...thanks for catching that. Let me just—” She bit back a curse when he opened the paper and studied it.
“It’s beautiful,” he said in a low tone. When his eyes came up, they were shining. “She’ll adore it.”
“Why are you here?” Harper demanded. Her emotions were at a breaking point. She needed him to say his piece and then leave. Layla pulled on her hair and Harper gently broke it free. It seemed some things never changed.
“First of all...” Mason took another step, causing Harper’s heart to skip another beat. “I wanted to say thank you.” He nodded toward Layla. “Your testimony was a key factor in the judge letting me keep her. I owe it all to you.”
“It was nothing,” Harper replied. She tried to set Layla down, but the little girl clung like a monkey. Harper sighed. “You’ll have to take her. Thanks for searching me out. I’m thrilled that it worked out. She really will be better off with you than your mother.”
“I’m not done,” Mason said, taking another step. The distance between them had closed to the point where Harper could have touched him with her fingertips if she’d been so inclined.
Her fingers twitched at the thought, but she kept her hands firmly around Layla. “Oh?” How much torture could a person take before they simply broke into too many pieces to fix?
“I also wanted to let you know that the custody came with a condition.”
Harper paused.
“I had to have Layla checked out by a doctor within twenty-four hours,” he said. “They especially wanted to check on her growth milestones.”
Harper swallowed hard. Layla’s speech. Something was wrong with it. “And?” she asked shakily.
Mason shook his head. “I don’t have answers yet. We went to a pediatrician yesterday, but they’re sending us to a specialist in Portland. The appointment is next week.” He paused. “But I thought you’d like to know we’re working on it.”
Harper nodded. “Good. I’m glad she’ll be getting the care she needs.”
He shuffled forward a little more. “And I also have a proposition for you.”
Her heart fluttered. Had he changed his mind? Did he actually have feelings for her? Or was this all about her help in court? How would she know the difference?
“I’d like to hire you.”
*****