“Hi.” She’d never been shy a day in her life, yet Jarvis managed to scatter her thoughts with a smile and she wasn’t sure sleep would fix it. Something about him just slid right past the defenses she’d built up against charming men. “Come on in.”
He dipped his chin toward the baby squirming in the sling. “Did I catch you at a bad time? Is he hungry again?”
“I wish it was that simple.” She suddenly felt disheveled and frumpy despite the shower and better conditions. He’d left her in a fully equipped cabin and she was more of a mess than she’d been this morning. “Our long night turned into a longer day.” She swept her bangs to the side. “We’re fine, really. It’s just that nothing is making him happy,” she said.
“He’s not sick, is he?” Jarvis set a bag on the table, his amusement gone and the sparkle in his eyes replaced with concern. “Do you need a doctor? You should’ve called me.”
“No, no. We’re fine,” she repeated. “But thank you.” She went to rub the crick in her neck and discovered the clip holding her hair up had drooped to the side. No wonder he’d been amused when he walked up. She must look a mess. “I did an online chat with his pediatrician.”
Silas stretched his limbs, one tiny foot kicking her diaphragm. The sling was great, until it felt like pregnancy again. She shifted him for her comfort and he started to cry again. She swore under her breath, immediately feeling guilty. She couldn’t make that a habit or his first words would be embarrassing and completely inappropriate.
“Pardon me. As I said, we’ve just had one of those days.”
“On top of a rough night,” he observed.
“Parenting.” She shrugged, bouncing gently in an effort to soothe her son. “It happens.”
“Guess so.” His mouth curved into a smile. “This gives me a new perspective. I suddenly have way more respect for how my parents handled this in triplicate.”
She couldn’t have heard him right. “Triplicate?”
“Yup. They wound up with two boys and a girl all at once without even trying.”
“You’re kidding. Wow.” She patted Silas’s back. She really couldn’t imagine dealing with three of him. “I hope you tell your mom and dad they’re incredible every time you see them.”
“I wish I could. They were awesome.” His gaze was on Silas and his voice went soft. “They died when we were ten.”
“Jarvis, I’m so sorry. Losing my mother was devastating.” To lose both parents at once was inconceivable.
“It was a long time ago,” he muttered. “We got through.”
She knew getting through wasn’t always enough. Restless, Silas pushed against her again, bringing her full attention back to the present. “I really thought the separation thing would be a few years coming.”
She unwound the sling and realized he needed a clean diaper. Taking care of that calmed him for a few minutes, but he resisted when she tried to hold him again so she laid him down on the blanket on the floor so he could stretch and kick and fuss to his heart’s content.
“I brought you a hot sandwich and a salad,” Jarvis said. “Have you eaten?”
She opened her mouth and snapped it closed again, uncertain. “I must have,” she said. “I was about to have a snack when you pulled up.”
“Have a meal instead.” He placed a bottle of water next to the to-go containers.
Her backside had barely met the chair when Silas erupted again. She stood, but Jarvis waved her back into the chair. “I wanted to talk about something, but it can wait. You look like you could use a relief pitcher. Eat.”
She wasn’t sure she could manage a coherent conversation right now. As he approached Silas, she started to ask how much experience he had with babies and stopped herself. He was only helping out while she was right here in the room, not applying for a position as a nanny. He certainly couldn’t do any worse than she’d done today.
Mia popped the lid off the salad container, watching as Jarvis crouched on one knee by her son, his strong, tanned hand looking enormous as he let Silas kick at his palm.
“Don’t you like cabins, little man?” he asked. “Is it too quiet out here for you?”
Silas’s fussing eased and his big eyes followed the sound of Jarvis’s voice.
“I didn’t think about that.” Mia felt dumbstruck. Of course Silas was more accustomed to background noise in and around her father’s house. Out here on the ranch, things were so still. “I’ve tried talking and—” she gave in to a yawn “—and singing. It just hasn’t been enough.”
She wasn’t enough. The thought steamrolled right over her and tears threatened to ruin the wonderful food Jarvis had brought. She stabbed her fork into the salad, refusing to give in to the nonsensical emotions. She’d feel better after some sleep. Assuming Silas would eventually allow that.
“Would you mind if I held him?” Jarvis asked. “I could take him for a walk and you could take a nap.”
“Oh.” It was a generous offer and yet she hesitated. She was supposed to be doing this parenting thing on her own. Every time he was nice to her, she was filled with a weird, indescribable blend of feeling grateful and inept. “That isn’t necessary.”