His cell phone chime cut through his thoughts.
Leaving the spoon half submerged in the contents of the slow cooker, he fished his phone out of his pocket as Kota trotted into the living area and sprawled out in front of the fireplace a good inch away from the baby’s quilt, as Glenna had already taught the puppy. Glenna promptly pulled two all-natural doggy treats from her pocket to reward him.
Nothing in life was free.
Chuckling and impressed, Broderick looked back at his chiming phone. A picture of his brother Marshall popped up on the screen. Sliding his finger to answer, Broderick scanned the spice rack, looking for black pepper, to kick up the flavor a notch.
He held the phone to his ear, instinctively lowering the volume. A silly gesture, really. Glenna could hear his side of the conversation from her spot a few feet away.
Regardless, he stole a glance at her, taking in the tight-fitting dark-wash jeans and blousy aqua top that suggested the beauty of her curves. She wasn’t paying attention to him, though. Instead, she’d scooped up Fleur and was cradling the baby in her arms with a smile.
“Hey, Marshall. Good to hear from you. Any news on tracking down the baby’s mother? Or the father?”
That last question had his gut in knots, because he didn’t have a clue which way he wanted this to shake down.
“No answer yet on either front, I’m sorry to say,” Marshall said, the sound of a horse’s whinny floating through the phone line. “She disappeared into Canada and not a peep since then.”
Broderick ground more black pepper into the slow cooker, then stirred the stew as he watched Glenna coo to Fleur some nonsensical words that made him grin.
“Damn, who dumps their baby and just disappears? Doesn’t check on the child? Nothing?” He turned around, eyes skating to baby Fleur.
Her round face beamed with happiness and light. All things good and innocent. Fleur grinned up at Glenna, whose face was obscured by strawberry-blond tendrils. A stranger peering in through the window at this moment would easily believe Glenna was the mother. Her attentiveness and empathy manifested in every movement.
Damn. This woman pierced him. Humbled him.
“I don’t have the answer for that,” Marshall said, always matter-of-fact.
“I realize Deborah didn’t have any family to support her when she had the baby. But if Fleur is mine, why didn’t Deborah reach out to me before?” Broderick felt sick at the idea that she would think he wouldn’t have assisted her. Things might not have worked out between them, but there’d be no way in hell he’d let his child suffer because of that. Family over all else. And if Fleur was his, he intended to ensure that.
“Maybe she was worried about the family money and losing her child,” Marshall offered.
“I wouldn’t deprive a child of its mother. I would just want rights—” Defensiveness and anger weighed down his heart.
Marshall interrupted, “I know, brother, I know.” A long sigh filled the earpiece. “But it’s obvious she’s not thinking clearly. And then perhaps she became overwhelmed? I’m just guessing.”
Exhaling hard, wanting to accept that explanation, needing some reason for this, Broderick willed his frustration down a notch. He set aside the pepper mill and sampled the stew again. Hmm…almost but not quite. And as he tasted it once more, he couldn’t help but wonder if he was substituting a fixation on food for his hunger for Glenna, trying to ignore the other appetite that threatened to burn him.
Patience. The key for winning the battle with Glenna and with conquering this recipe. He hoped if he kept at it, he’d match his mom’s skill one day. Was it a small way of recapturing a bit of the people he’d lost? Maybe.
The stew still missed something. He stared blankly at the spice rack, phone pressed hard into his ear. “I guess we’ll never know until she tells us. Hopefully sooner rather than later.”
“No kidding.” Marshall gave a low whistle. “Naomi is working hard to research all legal aspects so we’re prepared, whatever we face.”
“Glad to know, for Fleur’s sake. Naomi’s a fierce advocate.” Thankfully. He had a feeling they needed Naomi’s ambition and ferocity.
Glenna had laid the baby on a blanket decorated with blue and pink polar bears. She patiently changed Fleur’s diaper, making silly sounds as she went. Even from this distance he could see how comfortable the child was. The baby had two mighty advocates on her side with Glenna and Naomi. And he couldn’t deny the protectiveness for the kid building in him. “I’ve wondered more than once why Dad doesn’t put Naomi in charge of the company. She’s a fighter.”