Kitabı oku: «Mother's Day Miracle and Blessed Baby», sayfa 3
“Uh, Wade isn’t here right now, Rita. Maybe it would be better if you waited until he came home.” Clarissa could picture his face if he walked in right now and found her there.
“Nonsense! Part of the information gathering has to be done when he’s absent. To see how the children are managing.”
Okay, then. It was up to her, Clarissa decided. She’d have to make sure this inspection went well.
“The children are fine. Jared is cutting the lawn.”
“Unsupervised?” Rita scribbled something down.
“I’m here,” Clarissa reminded her and had the satisfaction of seeing the woman erase the words. “Tildy is making coleslaw for her home ec project. Lacey is doing her biology and Pierce is cataloging birds.” She trailed behind the other woman, but stopped short when Rita dragged a finger over the kitchen counter. Surely she hadn’t missed a spot?
“You have dinner already made?” the woman asked Tildy in disbelief.
“Yes, and she’s got all the major food groups covered, too. Isn’t it great?” Clarissa smiled at Tildy, willing her to smile back. “As you can see, Rita, Wade is doing a fine job with these children.”
“Hm. Things do seem to have changed. For the better.” Rita inspected the laundry room and found the machines purring.
Clarissa breathed a thank you that she’d thought to start a couple of loads earlier. She followed Rita back through the house. With all the finesse of a person who has a right to be in someone else’s home, she opened the front door and smiled her best hostess smile. “Everything’s fine, Rita.”
“Well, it does seem to be. I’ll file this and send a copy of it to Mr. Featherhawk. I don’t like to do anything behind anyone’s back.” Rita surged through the door, then stopped. “Oh, there you are. I must tell you, sir, that I found a vast improvement this time. Keep up the good work.” Having given her blessing, Rita bustled down the sidewalk to her car.
Clarissa gulped, gaping at the frowning face of Wade Featherhawk. He glanced at Rita’s disappearing back, then at Clarissa, then at the house.
“It’s nice someone in this town is honest about their intentions.” His voice chewed her out for her insolence. “I thought I asked you to leave us alone.”
Clarissa carefully shut the door behind him, checked to make sure no children were around, then faced him.
“Yes, you did. And I tried to respect your wishes. But I was asked over here to help out. And I was glad to do it.” She held her head up, daring him to question her further. “Now that you’re here, I’ll be on my way.” She turned her back and walked toward the kitchen.
“There’s a load of jeans in the washer and a bunch of your shirts in the dryer. You might want to take those out before they wrinkle. Tildy, you’ve done very well with that cabbage, although I think you’ve cut a bit more than you need. Just follow the recipe I left there and you’ll be fine. Bye for now.” And gathering up her purse, Clarissa headed for the back door.
She’d hoped to get away without another lecture, but it was obvious that Wade wasn’t prepared to let this go.
“I’ll walk you out.” His fingers wrapped around her elbow determinedly.
Clarissa marched out the back door, down the steps and across the newly mown yard. Jared was now working at the side of the house.
“He must have fixed it,” Wade muttered, staring at the shorn lawn. He shook his head and focused on her. “I don’t know how many times I have to say this, Miss Cartwright.”
“Don’t bother! I already know what you’re going to say. You’ve told me enough times.”
She kept on walking. Or she would have if he’d let go of her arm.
“Then why—”
“Why do I keep coming back here?” She rounded on him angrily. “Because they asked me to, that’s why. And I can’t say no.” She gulped down her frustration. “I know you don’t want me here, but the children need my help. And so do you.”
“No, I don’t.” He enunciated each word with frustrated precision.
“Well, you need something. Rita is the head honcho around here, and Judge Prendergast will do whatever she recommends. If you don’t get her on your side, you’re going to lose those kids to the state welfare agency. Is that what you want?”
“No, of course not!” Wade raked a hand through his hair, his face weary. “But I can’t be here all the time. I can’t do everything.”
“I know,” Clarissa told him calmly. “That’s why it makes sense for them to come to me. I’d love to help and I don’t mind in the least. I like them. I think they’re smart kids.”
“But I don’t want them to become dependent on you. They shouldn’t have to lose someone again. That’s not fair to them.”
Clarissa shrugged. “Is it fair that you lock a friend out of their lives, won’t even let me help a little by providing a meal now and again? Is it fair that Lacey and Pierce and Jared and Tildy all come to me for help and I have to send them away because you’re too stubborn to accept a little assistance once in a while?” She said the words that had begged release for days now.
“Is it fair that I can’t mother them a little?”
“Probably not,” he agreed grimly. “I don’t think it’s fair that their mother died, either. Or that I—” He stopped, clenched his jaw, then shrugged. “It’s just the way life has to be.”
Clarissa saw red. The hidden words poured out of her mouth with no regard for the consternation spreading across his glowering face.
“No, it doesn’t! Can’t you see that I only want to help these kids? I’m not asking you to be involved,” she added scornfully. “And I’m not after your money or your house or anything like that.”
“No, you’re after my kids.” His eyes glinted belligerently.
“All right! Yes, I am. I’m asking you to consider them and what it must be like to grow up like this. They can’t have friends over because there’s no one here to supervise.”
“I hired someone.” His chin jutted out as if to say “so there.”
“I know.” Clarissa nodded. “Mrs. Anders. She couldn’t come this afternoon so she asked me to stop in once they were home from school. But it’s not the same.” She continued. “They haven’t any spare time to go out with chums because there are so many chores.” She waved a hand at the house behind them.
“You talk about my house being run-down, but at least it has more than one bathroom and lots of bedrooms. This place is too small!”
As she searched his face for a hint of acquiescence, Clarissa let her heart’s desire pour out. “Why would it be so wrong to let me coddle them a little bit? I promise I’m not after you. I know I’m not wife material—I’m not beautiful or desirable or any of those things men want in a wife, but that doesn’t matter, does it? I can still be a friend to them, and a darn good one! I can love these kids and be there for them. Why won’t you let me? They’ll still love you, Wade. I would never do anything to change that.”
Wade stared at her, his mouth hanging open. He reached out and lifted a strand of her hair and tucked it back behind her ear, his fingers brushing against her cheek. When he finally spoke, his voice was quiet, sober. Clarissa steeled herself for the rebuff she knew would come.
“There’s nothing wrong with your looks, Miss Cartwright. You have a soft-spoken kind of beauty that any man in his right mind would find attractive. But I’m not that man. I have nothing to give. It’s all I can do to provide for four children. I don’t need a wife to look after, too.”
“Actually, I was in no way suggesting that. But those children are exactly why you do need a wife,” she countered, then stopped as the grim line returned to his mouth. “I’m not proposing, Wade. Really, I’m not! But will you at least let me help out once in a while? Will you come over for a meal now and then? Will you let me help Pierce with his birds and Lacey with her biology? Just until you’ve got things more settled?”
Wade studied her for a long time, but when he spoke there was a hint of amusement in his low tones. “Frankly, I’d be ecstatic if you’d take over Lacey’s biology. It’s a subject I detest, especially the dissecting. And you know very well that Pierce has never stopped questioning you about his collection, in spite of my protests.”
It was an admission, but Clarissa wanted more.
“And you’ll come for dinner? Tomorrow? No, Friday. You’ll let me help Tildy with her school cooking stuff?” She waited, her breath held till it hurt her chest.
“We’ll come for dinner on Saturday,” he finally agreed. “And I suppose it won’t hurt for Tildy to get some help, once in a while. But that’s all. Nothing more. You won’t drop over and clean the house or mend clothes or do the laundry.” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Do you promise you won’t pretend there’s something more going on when the busybodies start talking?”
“Of course not!” Clarissa was scandalized by the very idea. “I’m just a friend, and I’d like to help you out.”
“Fine. Then I’ll help out, too.” He sniffed. “Whatever’s cooking in that oven didn’t come from Tildy’s hands. In repayment for your assistance, I’ll fix your roof.”
“Oh, but it’s just a chicken pie!” She frowned, trying to imagine how much fixing her roof would cost him. “I didn’t expect you to—”
“Take it or leave it,” he warned, but there was a glint in his eye that warmed her heart. “If you help us, we help you. Friends.”
Her decision was unfairly influenced by the drop of rain on her nose. “I’ll take it. I’ve got to get going.”
“To put pails out, no doubt. You should have had it fixed months ago.” Wade shook his head as he surveyed the sorry condition of her weathered gables and red-rimmed turrets. “I’ll come over tomorrow and take a look.”
“You don’t have to—”
His look silenced her.
“All right. Thank you very much. I’ll be at the library till eight. We stay open late on Thursday.”
“I know. Believe me, I think I’ve been told everything about you.” He didn’t make it sound like a compliment.
“Really?” Clarissa frowned. “Like what?”
“You have this,” one finger trailed across her jaw where it curved up to meet her ear, touching the hairline scar, “because, at age six, you helped get Johnny McCabe out of a tumble-down barn. You broke this arm when Petey Somebody dared you to jump off a granary, and Sarah Kingsley stopped being your best friend when she stole all your doll babies in grade two.”
Clarissa gaped at him, nodding her head as he spoke.
“Mercy, they must be serious,” she whispered. “The townsfolk haven’t told anyone that stuff since Harrison.”
He frowned. “Harrison? Harrison was the man you were engaged to. He dumped you when your old friend came back to town. He married her instead of you.” Wade’s voice held a hint of sympathy. “What a jerk!”
“Harrison wasn’t a jerk,” she murmured, staring into Wade’s knowing gaze. “He was just confused. I wasn’t what he wanted, but Grace was. She was very beautiful, just like a model. I couldn’t compete with that.”
“He was a fool. Beauty goes a lot deeper than the skin.” Wade’s hand dropped away from her face as he took a deep breath. His eyes hardened. “But don’t get any ideas, Miss Cartwright. I’m not in the market for a wife. And I am not Harrison’s replacement. Not in a million years.”
The pain he inflicted with those words bit deep and it was all she could do not to burst into tears. She didn’t want someone to replace Harrison! She wanted someone better than him, a man who would think she was as wonderful as Harrison found Grace; she wanted a storybook kind of love.
Clarissa walked out of his yard, crossed the alley and yanked her own gate open. She stopped, turned and stared at him, only then realizing that he’d followed her.
“No, you’re not him,” she agreed quietly. “I don’t think anyone could ever replace Harrison in my life.” Then she closed the gate, walked across the yard and into her big empty house.
“Harrison was a sign,” she whispered as she stared out the window at the falling rain. “A sign that I’m supposed to be alone. And you, Wade Featherhawk, just confirmed it.”
She forgot all about the pails as tears, hot and bitter, coursed down her cheeks. How it hurt, to have those children there and not to be able to love them as she wanted, to mother them.
“It doesn’t matter,” she sobbed to the Lord, determination setting her jaw. “I’ll be their mother in my heart. He can’t stop me from loving them. No one can.”
But as the tears dried and her heart calmed, Clarissa couldn’t help remembering the look on Wade’s face. He’d wanted to let her help, wanted to let her in. She’d seen that.
So why didn’t he? Why was he so afraid to trust, let her into his world?
Chapter Three
Eight weeks to the day after he’d moved to Waseka, Wade pulled up to the curb in front of his house at five minutes to six, and parked, grinding the gears as he hadn’t done since he was thirteen. He forced himself to open the truck door, even though every muscle in his body begged him to just sit there and vegetate.
Man, he was tired. He couldn’t ever remember being this bone weary before. His eyes were bleary and unfocused and his hand wasn’t steady. Maybe if he put his head down, just for a moment, maybe then he could get his second wind. Or third.
“Wade?”
Oh, no, not her again! Wade huffed out a great puff of air, his brain groaning. What now?
“Wade, I think you’d better open your eyes and listen to me.”
Clarissa’s soft voice sounded deadly serious. He blinked his eyes open. Her face was white. Of course, it was always pale, but now it had lost all color. Her eyes were red and her hands blackened, as if she’d been playing in the dirt. There were the smudges all over her long floaty skirt.
How many times had he dreamed of that skirt?
“Wade? There was a fire.”
He jerked awake, his brain revving into high gear. “The kids?”
“They’re fine. They’re at my place.” She took a deep breath. “That’s not all.”
Not all? Wasn’t that enough? What else could there be? He tried to focus on what she was saying. “Huh?”
“Rita was here today, doing another inspection. She’s, um, pretty steamed.”
“Why?” He eased himself out of the truck, knowing he had to move but wincing at every budge of his smarting muscles. “What happened?”
“You’d better look for yourself.”
Her delicate hands helped him stumble to the sidewalk and up the path. She pushed open the front door and guided him inside.
The living room was littered with stuff, as usual. Smoky, water-soaked stuff, he noticed. Dishes cluttered the kitchen counter and food sat on the table as flies buzzed over it. A huge black spot covered the ceiling, most of the stove and a section of the floor.
He shuddered, immediately alert to the fact that he could hear no children’s voices. “What happened?”
“Tildy was frying. The oil caught on fire.”
That woke him up. He gulped at the idea of his lovely young niece covered in burns.
“She was trying to help Pierce and forgot to pay attention. Jared saw it start and thought he could put it out with a dish towel. That caught on fire too.” She pointed to the corner. “The oil set the cloth alight and when he tossed it to the floor, it caught onto the laundry Lacey was going to wash. I saw smoke and came over. By the time I got here, Pierce had finally found a fire extinguisher and put it out, but by then Rita had already arrived.”
“But where was Mrs. Anders?”
“Apparently the hospital called to say her husband had a heart attack. She told the kids to call me when she couldn’t reach you, but they didn’t want to be a bother. I think Tildy was afraid I’d make her wait to fry. She’s desperate to get an A in that class.”
It was clear to Wade by the glint in her eyes that Clarissa felt the children were reciting his precise words. He clenched his fists, drew a breath and summoned all his courage.
“And? You might as well spit out the rest of it.” His heart dropped to his boots as he surveyed the damage and considered how much worse off they could have been.
“Rita told me to take the kids. I wanted to call you but no one knew where you were.” There was a hint of censure in her voice. “I tried to stall her, but she’d already made her decision by then.”
Wade saw her swallow, heard her voice drop, and knew the worst had happened.
“I think she’s going to recommend foster care, Wade.”
“She can’t!” He couldn’t bear the thought of it, his sister’s kids split apart, separated, living with people who wouldn’t understand them. His own life, empty and barren of the joy they brought, the small glimpses of his sister he caught in each child. Worst of all, the promise would be broken.
He shook his head, refusing to accept it. “She can’t.”
“Yes, Wade. She can. I just wanted to warn you.” Clarissa didn’t meet his glance, but stood staring at her feet, her head bowed in sadness.
Wade stared at the mess he’d made of things. “I should have been here, should have been nearby. Why did I have to pick this afternoon to run to the city for supplies?”
“It doesn’t matter now.” Her head lifted as if she’d come to some decision. She studied his face for a long moment, then tugged at his arm. “Come on, Wade.”
“It does matter.” He felt the responsibility and almost bowed under it. “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. They could have died. I should have managed better. No matter how hard I try, I never seem to get it right. I messed up here. Again.” He couldn’t look her in the eye, knew he’d see condemnation.
Clarissa’s fingers tightened on his arm. “I’m sure you’ve done the best you could. No one was hurt. And it’s not anyone’s fault. Accidents happen.” She pushed against his chest. “Come with me. I’ve already called the insurance agency. It’s the only one in town, remember. Your renter’s policy covers most of the damage, they think. But you can’t stay here. Not till they’ve assessed the damage.”
He stared at her, his mind numb with the realization that his little family was now homeless. His brain wouldn’t move on from that. He felt the tug on his arm as if through a fog. “Oh. No, I suppose not. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Can you get up?”
Dimly Wade realized that sometime during their conversation he’d flopped down onto one of the kitchen chairs. His eyes noted the places where fire had singed the flooring, and he shivered at the thought of what might have happened.
“Wade?”
“What?” He blinked and refocused on her, forcing his mind to function. “Oh. Get up? Why?”
“You need a shower and something to eat, for one thing. You can have that at my place. The water heater’s turned off here. The firemen said it was better that way. Come on.”
He managed to get up and stumble to the back door, grateful for her calm even voice and the gentle hand under his arm. His brain couldn’t take it all in. It was like a bad dream.
A pile of charred bits of fabric lay outside the back door. Wade stopped in his tracks and stared. He couldn’t seem to move his eyes away, couldn’t stop imagining the scars…
“Wade, listen to me.” Clarissa turned his face toward her, her palms cool again his cheeks.
She felt good, he decided. Soothing. He didn’t even try to free himself. Her flower-soft fragrance tickled his nose. Roses, he thought. Or lavender maybe. Something like his mother would have worn.
Her eyes were clear and calm. “You have to get out of here now, Wade. Everybody is fine. They’re okay. Come on, let’s keep going.”
He moved on only because he knew she would nag him until he did. He walked across the grass, and into her yard with its pretty flowers and trim grass, marveling at the contrast between the two houses. His fingers curled around her small soft hand. Such a tiny hand to be so competent.
“I’m fine,” he mumbled when her other hand slid under his arm. He forced his rubber legs to move one foot in front of the other.
“Of course you are. Three steps up now.” There was a hint of amused mockery in her quiet tones.
“I’m just worried about the kids. My boots—”
“Are fine.” She urged him inside. “Sit down here and drink this.”
He took the cup from her fingers and sipped the dark steaming brew. “I don’t take sugar.”
“Today you do. Drink it.” There was no room for argument in that prim order.
Wade drank, his mind picturing that awful scene again.
“They’re fine, Wade. See, there’s Pierce working on his birds in the front yard. And Tildy’s sitting out there, too. With Ryan Adams. Lacey’s over in the park. You can just see her red shirt through the trees.” She pointed.
Wade followed the direction and caught sight of Lacey’s favorite blouse. “Jared?” he choked, his heart swelling with relief.
“I’m right here. I’m trying to fix this stupid—uh, broken cupboard.” Jared came to stand before his uncle. He frowned. “You don’t look too good, Uncle Wade.”
“That’s funny. I feel fine. Just fine.” Wade noticed his sister’s distinct features in the tall boy and felt the guilt wash over him again. He was growing up so fast. “Are you all right, son?”
“Of course. We all are. Clarissa’s taking care of things. That’s okay, isn’t it, Uncle Wade?” Jared’s face contorted with worry. “You’re not mad that we got her? Tildy didn’t mean to do it, you know. It was an accident.”
“I know. No. It’s perfect. Okay, I mean.” Wade glanced around with bleary eyes, noting the sparkling kitchen, the yeasty fragrance of fresh baked bread, the utter hominess of it all. No matter what he did, his kitchen had never looked like this. He noticed Jared’s frown and refocused.
“It’s just fine,” he repeated, then stopped when his stomach began a low but very audible rumbling.
“Jared, will you show your uncle where the shower is? And here are some fresh towels. As soon as he’s ready, we’ll have dinner.” Clarissa smiled, her eyes meeting Wade’s. “Go ahead. Everything is all right. I’ll watch them for you. We’ll talk later.”
Wade followed Jared up the stairs, easing up on the balustrade when he felt it give under his weight.
“Another thing to be fixed,” he muttered, trying to smother a yawn. “This house sure needs a lot of catch-up work.”
“You should have let me help you finish MacGregor’s roof last night,” Jared told him, frowning. “I can do stuff. Besides, you can’t work morning, noon and night, Uncle Wade. Nobody can. You’ll burn out. I heard the teachers talking about it.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes to make a home for you kids. I promised your mom, and I’m not breaking that promise.” Wade let himself be led into the bathroom. He accepted the armload of towels and listened as Jared explained the old-fashioned shower.
“Make sure you keep that curtain in the tub or Clarissa’s place will be flooded,” the boy ordered, frowning up at him as if he wasn’t sure Wade understood.
“Uh-huh. Curtain inside. Got it.” Wade repeated the words mindlessly, unable to hang onto any thought other than that the kids were all right.
After a long searching look at his uncle, Jared left the bathroom, apparently satisfied that Wade could manage on his own. Wade grinned at such consideration, but decided it was rather endearing coming from the boy.
He stripped off his clothes, fully conscious of how much dust he was leaving in the pretty lavender-and-white bathroom. He’d spent the sunrise hours of this morning replacing hundred-year-old attic shavings with insulation so that the owners could move in right away. Most of the dust had settled somewhere on him.
As he felt the warm sting of the water trickle over his aching body, Wade closed his eyes and searched for an answer.
Please God, what should I do now? I can’t give up Kendra’s kids. I just can’t. I promised her.
Sometime later, Wade didn’t know how long, the water grew cool, then the chill of it finally penetrated to his brain. He turned the taps off and grabbed a towel, rubbing himself fiercely to warm up.
Someone, Jared maybe, had set some clean clothes on the toilet seat. He pulled them on automatically, barely noting the newly replaced buttons and carefully stitched tears.
Then he sat down to think.
He had to do something. Figure out something. He wasn’t going to lose Kendra’s kids. Not now. He’d promised and, no matter what it cost, this time he was keeping his promise. He wasn’t going to mess up again, social worker or no.
His eye caught sight of the silk lavender bathrobe hanging on the back of the door. Clarissa was a lavender kind of woman. Her pale skin and silver-streaked hair would look perfect in the color. A pair of slippers lay on the floor, and he imagined her padding around this old house in the morning.
He’d seen her several times when he’d risen early. She always put out birdseed first thing. Then he’d catch the hint of fresh brewed coffee and pretty soon she’d be sitting at the table by the bay window, sipping it as she watched the birds peck at their meal. It took her a long time to wake up, but eventually she’d move, and Wade would catch the aroma of frying bacon or grilling sausages.
Now that the weather was warmer, she’d begun eating outside, sharing her breakfast with whatever came along. Then she’d pull up a few weeds, water her garden, finish her coffee and undo her hair.
Wade always liked watching her brush out her hair, though he felt a bit embarrassed, like a Peeping Tom or something. But once she undid that knot on top, he couldn’t tear his eyes away. He would never have believed her hair was so long, not when she wound it up on the top of her head like that. Free and cascading down her back, it flowed well past her waist in a river of sparkling silver.
A shrill childish laugh penetrated his musing and Wade got up to look out the small bathroom window. Pierce was pointing at a tree and ordering everyone to look. Seconds later Clarissa came outside, a big book in her hands. She and Pierce sat together on the grass and searched through the pages until they found what they wanted. Wade watched as Pierce leaned his head on Clarissa’s shoulder, his voice barely audible on the late afternoon air.
“Am I a nerd, Clarissa?”
“Of course not! I don’t know many children who could identify as many birds as you can, Pierce. Why would you think such a thing?” She sounded truly amazed by his question.
“That’s what the kids call me. They say it’s stupid to spend so much time on birds.” Pierce shrugged. “Maybe they’re right. I don’t play their games very well.”
As Wade watched, Clarissa hugged the little boy closer.
“Listen, sweetheart. Everybody has different interests. You like birds, and there’s not one thing wrong with that. There’s nothing wrong with games, either. The problem comes when we make fun of other people for their choices.”
“But I don’t fit in! I don’t even know how to catch a ball.”
Pierce’s rueful tones told Wade that catching a ball was very important, and Wade chewed himself out for not spending more time with the boy.
“Then we’ll have to practice. That’s not such a hard thing to learn. Not like a baby bird learning to fly, for goodness sake.” Clarissa’s beautiful smile coaxed him to join in and a minute later Pierce called his big brother to help him practice.
“She’s good,” Wade muttered to himself in admiration. “She’s very, very good with them.”
“I got the frog, but I lost the guy.” That was Lacey, glum with disappointment as she flopped down on the lawn beside Clarissa. “What is it with this biology stuff?”
“Oh? Didn’t Kevin want to study with you?” Clarissa sounded amused. “He certainly rushed over here quickly when he heard about the fire.”
Wade frowned. Who the dickens was Kevin? And what did the kid want with his niece?
“Kevin had to go home for supper.” Lacey sprawled on the grass, bare feet nestling into Clarissa’s skirt. “Honestly, he’s so smart, I feel like a dud.”
“He’s not smart about everything.” Clarissa fiddled with her skirt, but Wade caught the glimmer of a smile twitching at the corners of her mouth. “I happen to know that he’s only recently taken to studying biology. You might ask him for help with your own work.”
“You mean like spend a date dissecting a frog?” Lacey made a face. “Ugh!”
“Well, why not? You’d get to spend time together. Anyway, you’re too young to date.”
Wade watched as Clarissa rose lithely to her feet, her hand gently smoothing the other girl’s hair.
“Think about it,” she murmured. “I’ve got to check the kitchen. I think Tildy’s forgotten something.”
Wade adjusted his position and spotted the tiny funnel cloud of smoke coming out the back screen door. He groaned. “How many times is it going to take for that girl?”
When no one answered him, he realized he was talking to himself. Gathering up his dirty clothes, he headed downstairs to face the reality of his messed-up life.
“Tildy, honey, you have to set the timer. Then things won’t burn, even if you do forget. The timer will remind you.”
“How many cakes is that?” Tildy’s tearful voice warned Wade that she’d been at it for a while. So did the acrid odor of smoldering sugar.
“It’s only a bit of flour and sugar, Tildy. It doesn’t matter. We’ll just try again after supper. Okay?”
A huge sigh. “Okay. Thanks a lot, Clarissa. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome, sweetie.”
Wade walked in just as Clarissa hugged his niece. He stood there, studying their obvious camaraderie for a long time. It was only when she touched his arm, that he realized Clarissa had been speaking to him. He jerked to attention, pushing his thoughts away. “Sorry. What did you say?”
“I’ll take the clothes and put them in the washer. You sit down. We’re all ready.” In a matter of seconds she had the others gathered around her worn oak table. “I’ll just say grace.”
Wade automatically bowed his head, listening to her few soft words of thanks.
“Now, if you could slice this roast, we’ll be all ready.” She handed him the carving knife and a platter with a piece of succulent beef sitting in the middle of it, juices dark and tantalizingly pooled around it.
