Hearing her answer, he sighed in frustration. Their taste in books wasn’t going to keep the dialogue flowing easily. “I like biographies and nonfiction.”
She nodded and subsided into silence. Keaton shot her a sideways glance and noticed that she was gripping her purse as if it was a lifeline. He wanted her to relax in his company. If she decided he wasn’t the villain her father made him out to be, he would have an easier time staking his own claim on Grace.
Tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, Keaton tried again. “I downloaded a couple books on preemies to my e-reader in an attempt to figure out what to expect with Grace.”
“At this point her gestational age is that of a newborn. She’s still tiny compared to most, but her need for specialized care is done.”
“I realize that I missed being around for her early days, but the books talked about kangaroo care where the baby is held against her mother’s skin to help with her development.”
Lark nodded. “Because she couldn’t leave the NICU, I would go in before and after my shift and hold her like that.” Her voice took on a husky note. “I wish we could have put her and Skye together, but I did the best I could.”
“You did a great job,” he assured her. “She’s thriving and ready to leave the NICU.” Once again it struck Keaton just how much Lark had been dealing with on her own, and irritation with his brother flared anew. Whatever Lark and Grace needed, he would make sure they were taken care of. “But I think you’ve single-handedly shouldered the burden for too long. From everything I’ve read, preemies are more work than an average newborn, which means you’re going to be even more exhausted. Let me help.”
“I would be lying if I told you I was completely convinced of my ability to take care of Grace on my own. Frankly, I’m terrified of failing. I owe it to Skye to do what is best for Grace.”
The level of conviction in Lark’s voice resonated with Keaton.
“That’s exactly what I’m trying to do for Jake.” And in his brother’s absence, he intended to protect Jake’s rights. The Taylors needed to understand that Grace was also a Holt—Keaton was convinced of that, with or without the DNA test—and that they had an equal say in her care.
“We share a common goal, then.” She stared hard at the road before them. “I’m sorry if I’ve been suspicious of your motives, but I have to tell you that all my life I’ve had to listen to how untrustworthy your family is.”
“It’s not true.”
“I’m sure where the rest of the world is concerned it’s not, but when it comes to my family, there’s been so much strife over the years I can’t shake my uneasiness. And then there’s the fact that I haven’t spoken with Skye since she left Royal. I don’t know what happened between her and Jake. I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing letting you be involved with Grace.”
He wasn’t sure what had happened between Skye and Lark, but he had a feeling the Taylor-Holt feud had caused the sisters’ relationship to suffer the same the way his and Jake’s had. Whatever had happened, there was no question that Lark bore her sister no lasting ill will. Her dedication to Skye and Grace was unflinching.
“I assure you—” His phone began to ring before he could finish the thought. Not recognizing the number, he keyed the truck’s hands-free option and answered the call. “Keaton Holt.”
“Mr. Holt, this is Sabrina from Dr. Boyle’s office.” The doctor who had administered the DNA test.
Keaton glanced Lark’s way and spied her somber green eyes on him. “What are the results?”
“The kinship index was well over 1.0. You and Grace show a strong chance of being related. That’s a very good indication that your brother is her father.”
Because they hadn’t been able to collect Jake’s DNA, they’d had to test Skye and Keaton for an uncle comparison. It wasn’t as definitive as a paternity test, but the results were strong and should satisfy all but the most skeptical.
“Thank you, Sabrina. Please send the results to me by email.”
“Of course, Mr. Holt. And congratulations.”
Keaton ended the call and waited for Lark’s reaction. They were nearing the furniture store where she intended to get Grace’s crib. In a minute there would be no time for private discussion.
“That’s it, then,” she said, her voice low and without inflection.
“You don’t sound surprised.”
“Grace looks like Jake.”
Her admission annoyed him. “But you fought me on the DNA test.”