Page 9 of Hold My Heart

Chapter 3

He was the cheapestoption she could find, Olympia told herself again, indulging in a long hot shower where there wasn’t a four-year-old screeching into her ear about how much she was hated.

She’d thought she had wanted children. She’d thought she had wanted a huge family with at least two or three of the little buggers and had often pictured herself and Dan and their children seated around the dining room table she never used, having large dinners with everyone invited and lots of laughter and food and fun. It was the perfect Normal Rockwell scene. At least in her head. Reality waswaydifferent.

Running her hands through her hair, she remembered the first few days after she’d brought Renee home. Not only did the little girl not want to speak to her in anything but monosyllabic howls, but she was incorrigible and refused to sleep throughout the night, which meant Olympia’s sleep was disturbed and not restful.

Which also meant she was able to gracefully handle less and less when she was running on fumes.

She was no stranger to stress, but this was something altogether new and threatened to burn a hole beneath her sternum. Under the heat of the spray from the showerhead, Olympia forced herself to relax. The poor baby had just lost her parents. She deserved a little slack. After all, a week was hardly long enough to adjust to a new life with a person she’d never met and in completely new surroundings.

Still, the sleepless nights were starting to take a toll on Olympia. She was a zombie, forcing herself to get through the day without a bit of rest. Thankfully, she had taken a few days off from work, although that presented a whole new mess of problems. She was on the phone with Ashleigh for three, four hours at a time, trying to juggle Renee and hear what Ashleigh was saying through the screams. Carl was not happy with her absence and delivered an ultimatum. A full day of work...or else. She didn’t want to think about what “or else” meant.

She could ask Mrs. Nunez to come over for a couple of hours a day, just to give her time to cook, but the woman was old. She couldn’t handle the upset any more than Olympia could.

Thank God for Harlan. He’d arrived right in the nick of time, saving her from getting in her car and driving away without looking back.

No, she thought vehemently. She wasn’t the type of person to abandon a baby in need. Not when it came down to the heart of the matter. But it was a nice thought when she was inches away from tearing her hair out.

Harlan had a good voice, she mused, resting her head on the cool shower tiles. Not loud by any means, but it was deep and rumbled in his chest. The kind of voice designed to put people at ease, yet it reverberated through her bones until her insides thrummed. Or it might have been the stress causing some kind of mini pulmonary episode.

With a sigh, she flipped the shower off and stood in the swirling mist, taking a breath and holding it deep in her lungs. The act was supposed to be calming. Lately, it just made her lightheaded.

Harlan had spent the last two hours with Renee, and Olympia was pleased beyond measure when the screaming finally stopped. Like a television switched off. She wasn’t used to the silence anymore.

Hopefully, now she could focus on her work for what felt like the first time this week. Not that shewantedto work. Shewantedto sleep for a thousand years. Maybe her dreams would have more insight as to what her future held. Because at the moment she could see only two possible choices: One, she could use most of her retirement money to keep Harlan on staff until Renee was old enough to go to school. Olympia would have the family she’d always wanted and contentment at following through on her cousin’s last wishes. Or—and the second choice made her feel sick to her stomach—she could give Renee up for adoption, call it quits, and have more time to focus on her career and potential promotion.

Even thinking about number two made her feel like a horrible person.

Olympia dressed hurriedly in a pair of slacks and a red button-up shirt with three-quarter-length sleeves. It was almost dinnertime, and although she hadn’t had time to discuss duties with Harlan, she was sure preparing dinner wasn’t among them. Which meant she’d have to scramble through the pantry for something suitable for a man and a child to eat. Her macaroni and cheese was surely an overcooked mess at this point. She’d left the pot on the stove too long.

She paused in the hallway, staring at herself in the mirror. The dark lushness of her hair was shot through with silver. Normal, she knew, as she chose to forgo dying her hair. But did she only imagine more gray than yesterday? The lines around her eyes and mouth were more pronounced than usual, brought on by lack of sleep no doubt, to which she might also attribute the bruise-like bags above her cheekbones.

Great, she thought.My youth is gone in a week.

She knew thirty-six wasn’t technically old. It was far from geriatric. Still, the moment she caught sight of herself, her tentative morale shot into the floor and there was a pain in her hips that hadn’t been there moments ago.

She hobbled her way downstairs and mentally steeled herself for another argument or something.Something, surely, because the couple of hours of quiet were like a gift and she wasn’t sure what she’d come down to find.

Fear clenching in her chest, she turned the corner into the kitchen...and found Harlan at the stove, stirring a pot of aromatic chicken soup.

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