Читать книгу Saved By The Single Dad: A Single Dad Romance - Annie Claydon, Annie Claydon - Страница 12
Оглавление‘I WONDER IF she’s got any cake.’ Sleep seemed to have made Cass hungry again.
‘Almost certainly.’ Martin opened the front gate of one of a small, neat row of houses. ‘I gather that the Monday Club came round here yesterday, after your visit.’
‘That’s all right then. What we can’t eat, we can use to shore up the flood defences.’ Cass stopped at the end of the path and Jack decided to wait with her, leaving Martin to approach the cottage alone.
The door was opened by a small, neatly dressed woman who might or might not be Miss Palmer. She didn’t look eighty-two.
‘Vicar. Lovely to see you.’ She craned around to look at Cass and Jack. ‘You’ve brought reinforcements, I see.’
Martin’s shoulders drooped. Clearly, reinforcements were exactly what he needed.
‘That her?’ Jack murmured the words to Cass and she nodded, turning her back on the front door.
‘Yep. She’s...’
‘Cassandra!’ Cass jumped and swivelled back to face Miss Palmer. ‘Do turn around, dear; you know I can’t hear you.’
‘Sorry. I forgot...’
Miss Palmer pursed her lips in disbelief. ‘Well, come in and have a cup of tea. And you can tell me all about last night.’
‘News travels fast.’ Cass strode up the front path. ‘They’re calling him Noah. Eight pounds, give or take.’
‘Good.’ Miss Palmer beamed her approval, leaning round to examine Jack. ‘Is this your captive paramedic, dear?’
Jack was beginning to feel as if he was. Captivated by Cass’s smile, longing to hear her laugh. Wanting to touch her.
‘Yes. We found him washed up by the side of the river and we’ve decided to keep him. We’ve had him locked in the church hall.’
Miss Palmer nodded, enigmatic humour in her face. ‘Leave your boots in the porch.’
The sitting room was bright and frighteningly clean, with the kind of orderliness that Jack remembered from before he’d had a child. One wall was entirely given over to glass-fronted bookcases and another was filled with framed photographs.
‘My travels.’ Miss Palmer caught Jack looking at them and came to stand by his side. ‘Papua New Guinea... South Africa...’
Jack studied the black and white photographs. Some were the kind a tourist might take, posed with landmarks and things of interest, and others told a different story. Groups of children, ramshackle schools, a young woman whose air of determination couldn’t be disguised by time and who had to be Miss Palmer.
