15. Chloe

I t was late on a Saturday when Chloe finished baking. She'd spent the day at it, making her banana bread, lemon bars, and cookies. In between, she took care of her boarders and rescues, answered the phone to schedule more, and hummed through the process of running her small animal shelter.

She loved spending time in the sun-filled kitchen, looking out over the kennels and the woods beyond the fence.

With Lady Bug at her feet and Buttercup curled on her bed in the corner keeping watch over her domain, Chloe let the work with her hands and the frequent interruptions distract her from all that was on her mind.

In addition to the latest family crisis, she was in a bit of a personal conundrum of her own. She missed Judah. She ached for him and had to force herself to tamp down her frustration that Travis wasn't feeling the same way.

He was getting there, though. They'd seen Judah, what? Four times now in total, and each visit was lovelier than the last. They'd even applied to have him spend a weekend up here, which required Chloe to have a background check, as well.

They hadn't heard if they'd been approved, but she hoped it happened this week, so they could bring him here next weekend. She already planned how she would give him her room, and sleep in the living room. Long term, she had to live and work here, to take care of the animals over night, but it was too small for a family.

It wouldn't be if Travis built the addition off the back they'd talked about.

She let out a groan, just wishing he'd move a little faster on…well, everything. Their life, their future, and, most of all, that child. She couldn't lie—Judah had reached right into Chloe's chest and taken ownership of her heart.

Maybe a bakery's worth of bread and goodies could bring Travis around, she mused as she packed up the treats to take to the fire station.

Judah would love these, too, she decided as she eyed the last golden batch of chocolate chip cookies. On impulse, she took one full container of the cookies and slid them to the side. When she got back, she'd make bags and freeze them for next weekend, in case they got approved to keep Judah overnight. What kid didn't love homemade chocolate chip cookies?

A few minutes later, she packed up the rest of the containers and drove to the station, where Travis was on duty. She knew he'd greet her with his happiest response and gladly accept a gift that would be devoured by the crew before the end of this shift.

But when Travis came out to the front of the station to meet her, she didn't get the smile she expected. In fact, he looked stricken.

"What's wrong?" she asked, lowering her small mountain of Tupperware to the front desk.

"Judah's…been adopted."

She gasped, shocked at how hard the words hit her gut.

"I just heard." He reached for her, pulling her into him for a hug that really didn't require an explanation, clearly shaken by the news.

As was she. He was adopted ? Gone? He couldn't be theirs?

"Are you upset or…relieved?" she asked, not sure she wanted to hear the answer if it was the latter.

"I'm confused," he admitted. "I thought I'd have a say as his only living relative, but legally, I don't. It's something called an adoption placement, so not final, but still, I'm sad, Chloe. Aren't you?"

Devastated, but telling him that would only etch more misery on his features. "I'm…yeah. Happy for him, but sorry for us. But you weren't ready and—"

"I should have been." He growled the confession, shaking his head. "I didn't know I'd feel this much regret over losing him."

She nodded, not one to say, "I told you so!" even though she wanted to scream the words.

Of course they'd feel regret. Judah was family and now he…was part of another one and not ever going to spend a weekend with the dogs or eat her chocolate chip cookies. He was part of another family now.

Which was good, but… oh. She swallowed a growing lump in her throat.

"Do you know anything about the people who adopted him?" she asked. "Mae said there were two different couples considering him."

"One dropped out and took a baby girl who became available," he said. "They go fast. The babies, I mean." As he said the words, he cringed. "Horrible, isn't it? Like a fire sale on the best kids."

"Judah was the best kid," she said, her voice thick.

"Chloe, I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize to me, Travis." She took his hand, digging for kind words and a rationale for why this had happened. "This just wasn't in our hands. And if he—"

The scream of a deafening alarm cut her off.

"Gotta go!" He pivoted and tore through the doors to the station, leaving her dumbfounded and…yes, very, very sad.

She stayed stone still while orders and curt instructions to the team blared through the loudspeakers. She didn't even move while organized chaos erupted in the bays, close enough that she could hear the chief bark out numbers that indicated which gear to pack, followed almost immediately by the roar of the truck engines.

She stared out the window as an ambulance took off, followed by the chief's car, then the ladder truck, all with alarms ripping through the silence of a Saturday night the way this rotten news ripped through her chest.

Judah was adopted!

Finally, she left, too, leaving the containers on the front desk. Someone would find them and get them into the kitchen, but she…

She had to get home and have a good cry.

The tears refused to wait, though, and she was swiping at her cheeks when her phone rang with a call from…Mae Ling?

She was only a little surprised. She and Mae had developed a nice rapport, bonding over Judah. No doubt she wanted to share the joy of his adoption, but Chloe had done a terrible job of hiding how much she wanted Travis to agree to at least foster the little boy, if not adopt him.

"Hey, Mae," she said as she touched the dashboard to answer the phone. "Travis just told me the news."

"Well, he didn't tell you the latest, because I can't reach him," she said.

"Travis? He just went out on a call," Chloe said, tapping the brakes as she neared the turn to her house. "What's the latest?"

"The family backed out on Judah."

"Yes!" She pumped her fist and instantly regretted the reaction, which was heartfelt and impossible to hide, but probably didn't show genuine care for Judah's well-being.

But the woman on the other end of the phone chuckled. "I had a feeling you'd say that."

"No, I want him to be adopted, Mae. I don't want him living in a group home! But…well, you know what I want."

"I do," she said softly. "And you've been approved for a weekend visit."

"That's awesome." She pulled into her driveway and stopped, aware that her heart rate kicked up. "But Travis is—"

" You have been approved," she repeated. "You are both certified to have him for a weekend, individually or together."

"Really?" She sat up a little straighter, a smile pulling.

"And, Chloe, I know Travis is on duty this weekend at the fire station, but that little boy is devastated. He was told he was being adopted and they packed him up. Poor Kelly, who just got two more twelve-year-olds, absolutely can't comfort him. Actually, calling you was her idea but it comes with an apology and a box of tissues. You'll need them."

"He's crying that much?"

"He has a bad cold."

Oh, the poor baby. Sick and sad. "I can be there in an hour," she said, squeezing the steering wheel. "If I can bring him here alone. You're sure?"

"Positive. You passed the background check with flying colors."

Well, apparently a runaway bride and a network news failure didn't stop her from qualifying to be a…

Oh, good heavens, she would love to be Judah's mom.

"But, Chloe, it's a bad cold. No fever, but you aren't allowed to give him over-the-counter medicine, so—"

"I've got homemade cookies, cute dogs, and a heart full of love," she said, sorry she didn't have more. Like lemonade. Dang. That kid loved his lemonade. "But I'll get that boy healthy before he has to go back. Which is…when?"

"By Sunday night at ten o'clock," she said.

"Perfect. Will you meet me there in about an hour?"

"I most certainly will. Thank you, Chloe."

"No, thank you, Mae. You've made me insanely happy. And I will take such good care of him, you'll see."

"I already know that."

On the way down, she reached Travis, back from putting out a small kitchen fire.

"Well, I have another small fire," she said, and explained the situation, hearing the same relief and joy in his voice as Mae must have heard in Chloe's.

"You're taking him? Tonight? Now?" he asked when she told him she was on the way down to Jax.

"Is that okay?" She held her breath, waiting for his reaction.

"Of course!" he exclaimed, making her wonder why she'd ever worried. "Maybe I can get out of this shift early. Can I just show up in the middle of the night if the captain agrees?"

"I'll be asleep in the living room," she said. "I'm going to let him use my room."

"Aw, babe, I don't know how to thank you for this," he said, his voice lowering with tenderness. "I'll try to get over there as soon as I can."

"Great. Oh, and Travis? Bring lemonade."

"All I can find," he answered on a laugh.

A cold? Chloe admittedly didn't know much about colds and kids, but were they always this… slimy ?

At four-thirty in the morning, she sat at Judah's bedside with an icy washcloth, a tumbler of water, and her arms full of a kid who sneezed and coughed so much, she figured she was officially bathed in germs.

"Oh, baby," she cooed, holding him close while she pressed the cold cloth on his forehead, which was definitely warmer than it should be. "I suppose I could call Rose, but she'd come straight over. If she got sick, it would fly through her whole family. Maybe Tori? Mom? Who knows about sick kids?"

He looked up at her, his eyes foggy, but his gaze…loving.

Her instinct—new and flawed as it may be—was that this cold wasn't serious, just terribly uncomfortable. And messy. He needed love and attention, not another mother in the mix.

On the bed, Lady Bug stayed close, her tail swishing and her gaze locked on this new arrival with that "cause for concern" look in her brown eyes.

"I'm sorry you feel so terrible, Judah."

He nodded, sneezed, and fell against her.

But she wasn't sorry she held him. What would have happened to him tonight? Kelly was torn in ten different directions and couldn't have nursed him through to morning. Not to mention all those kids getting sick! Hopefully, he'd be on the mend tomorrow.

Or, if he spiraled and got worse, she could call Mae and ask if there was anything she could give him or if she could take him to a walk-in clinic.

The answer would probably be no, since these poor babies were just…alone in the world. And she had nothing but love to give. Love and…what else could she offer?

"Oh, Judah," she whispered, sitting up a bit. "Would you like a chocolate chip cookie?"

For the first time, she saw light in those sick-looking eyes. The tiniest glimmer of hope and maybe hunger.

Kelly said he'd had dinner when Chloe picked him up and he hadn't been interested in stopping for food, but his expression looked like he'd been offered the Holy Grail.

"You'd like cookies, wouldn't you?"

He nodded, surprisingly alert for how sick he was, not to mention the hour.

"Come on. Let's get you out of this room and into the kitchen." She grabbed the box of tissues and a fluffy blanket he seemed to like and the two of them—and Lady Bug—padded to the other side of the house.

Buttercup greeted them, rising sleepily, but somehow sensing Judah was not ready to befriend a dog her size.

Judah had been sick enough when she got him here that she hadn't even taken him in the back to see the kennels. But now, from a seat at the kitchen table, Judah could see the row of dog houses in the soft lights she kept on for her boarders.

"That's where the doggie guests live," she told him as she opened the container of cookies and put two on a paper plate.

He sniffed, still so quiet it broke her heart.

"That's what I do," she said, filling the silence. "I rescue doggies. Sometimes they just stay here, like guests at a hotel, while their owners have to be away. Sometimes people bring doggies that have no home here, and I try to find someone to take them and keep them forever."

"Like me."

She turned at the words, certainly not expecting them, as surprised that he'd spoken as she was that he deeply understood his situation.

"Oh, not…exactly." Except a rescue refuge? It was exactly like a group home and she could see why he'd make the connection.

"Well, all the doggies eventually get homes," she said, bringing the cookies to the table. "And they don't get chocolate chip cookies."

He smiled up at her, true gratitude in his eyes.

"I don't have any lemonade or milk," she said. "But would you like orange juice? It's full of vitamin C, which you obviously need."

He nodded, very carefully picking up a cookie and looking at it for a long time before taking a bite.

"Is it good?"

Another nod, this once slightly more furious and accompanied by another bite.

"That's one thing I can do, bake cookies. Not like, say, my sister's boyfriend, Scout. He owns a whole cookie store, but you want to know the truth?" She found a plastic cup she'd stashed away for when Nikki Lou visited, and poured the OJ. "I'd hold up my chocolate chip cookie to anything he makes. Okay, maybe not the one—"

"More?" he asked, reaching for another cookie, crumbs and a little chocolate on his lips.

"Yes! Do you feel better?"

He shrugged and took the next cookie, trying—and failing—not to shovel it into his little mouth.

"Are you hungry, Judah?"

He nodded and pointed at the cookie container.

"I don't know about three cookies, but…" What did she even have? Spinach salad? Hard-boiled eggs? A chicken breast she could cook? Eww. He was five . But Travis said he'd stop and get kid-friendly food after his shift.

"What's your favorite thing to eat?" she asked, hoping for an idea.

"Gwilled cheese."

"Yes!" She popped up, doing a mental inventory of her fridge. Bread, cheese, and butter—check. "And chips!" she announced, remembering an unopened bag in the pantry.

He nodded happily.

"Okay, let's save cookie number three for after dinner, which we are having twelve hours late, or early, depending on your perspective. Give me ten minutes."

He rested his head on his hand, elbow propped on the table, his face so tender and tired and sick that she nearly cried.

"You look at the dogs and see if any of them come out to go to the bathroom." She buttered bread, turned on the stove, and started peeling deli cheese slices. "That one reddish dog, named Spike, he does that a lot."

"I need my glasses," he whispered.

"Oh! Of course you do."

He slipped out of the chair. "I get them."

She stood for a moment, watching him disappear, with Lady Bug hot on his heels, then she turned to Buttercup, who was back in bed but taking it all in.

"I love him," she admitted. "And nothing's going to change that."

Buttercup responded with a very sleepy sigh and one thump of her tail while Chloe got to work on the grilled cheeses—plural, because he couldn't eat alone.

Judah came back in with his glasses on and Lady Bug in his arms.

"Bug-boo let me pick her up," he said.

"Then Bug-boo loves you," Chloe replied. "She only lets wonderful people hold her, especially at this hour when she gets the crankies."

He giggled at that.

"Have you ever had a middle of the night dinner before?" she asked, flipping the grilled cheese, thrilled with the golden, buttery color gained from the very hot pan. She'd learned that in her short stint as a waitress at the Riverfront Café.

"With Pops." He muttered the word, his face against Lady Bug's head as he pet her.

She slid the sandwiches out and onto plates, cut them, and brought them to the table. "Pops? Your grandfather?"

He nodded, already looking better.

"Why don't you put Bug-boo down, wash your hands, and let's eat."

He followed all the instructions, coming back to the table like an angel. Maybe he was sick or shy or in a strange place, but she couldn't remember a better-behaved child.

She inched the plate closer. "Please. Eat it up."

"Pops says we pray before…"

Goodness, she hadn't thought of that. "Then, by all means, you pray. Will you say one for me, too?"

He pressed his little hands together and put his head down. "Thank you, Jesus, for this food. And for Bug-boo and the nice lady. And Uncah Man."

She practically groaned as her heart swelled with love.

He lifted the sandwich and took a gooey bite, stretching out the cheese with a giggle.

"So tell me about Pops," she said, happy to discuss the man when Travis wasn't here—that topic was off-limits.

"I miss him," he admitted, breaking her heart.

"I bet you do. What did you love most about him?" she asked, plucking at her sandwich.

"Everything," he said through a mouthful of grilled cheese. "He is the best grandpa ever!"

Is. Not was . Did he even realize what had happened to his beloved grandpa? She leaned closer and put a hand on his arm.

"You know what, Judah? Pops is in heaven and he's keeping an eye on you. He's going to make sure you get the best family in the whole world."

He didn't answer, his eyes on his plate. "I could…" He hesitated a long time, then finally looked up. "I could live here."

"Oh." The single syllable slipped out, a mix of a whimper and a sigh.

Right at that moment, she never wanted anything more.

"Well, you're here now," she said. "Grilled cheese, chocolate chips, and—"

He let out a wet sneeze and all she could do was laugh and hand him a tissue. And say a little prayer of her own.

Please let Travis see the light…and say yes. Please.