Читать книгу Blessings - Lois Richer - Страница 11

“Rosalyn Alyssa Darling, stop that caterwauling. You’re not suffering from any life-threatening injury. If you will race through the house, you will get hurt. I’ve told you that before.”

Joshua almost groaned right along with Rosie when his youngest daughter sent up another heartrending sob that tugged at his heart. He felt totally helpless. Giving in to his emotions, he gently gathered his baby’s compact little body into his arms and cuddled her close, soothing her sobs as he always had.

“Kiss?” She tilted her chin up for his cure.

“Kiss,” he agreed, dabbing his lips against the alabaster skin and holding them there. She was so delicate, so precious. And such a fireball.

Three seconds after the kiss, she wiggled out of his arms to hurtle herself down the stairs in hot pursuit of her oldest sister.

“Rachel, help Rosie get dressed, will you? Please?”

Another Sunday morning, another two hours of sheer bedlam. Sometimes he wondered why he bothered dragging them all to church. But he knew the answer. Kyla. She’d insisted from the moment Rachel had come into the world that her children would know God in a personal way.

As if anyone could know God like that.

He stuffed the regrets down and concentrated on getting his tie straight. Wouldn’t want anyone to think anything was wrong in the Darling house.

Joshua offered a wry smile to his reflected image, twitching the tie into place as he did. Sheer pride, he owned. Such a stupid quality to hang on to. As if everyone in town didn’t already know something was wrong at the Darlings’. It was evident the moment you looked at the house, never mind what it looked like inside.

Why— He stopped himself, refusing to let the words gain hold in his brain. What difference did it make why it had happened? It had. The point he needed to concentrate on was managing what was left of his future. No matter what happened, the blame could not be laid at his door.

Not again. He’d do everything he had to, to make sure of that.

Control. Sure, steady, unblinking control. That would get him through.

“Uh, Dad? I think you better come down here. Like—now.”

Joshua groaned. What had they done this time?

He took the steps three at a time, ignoring the puddle of clothes left at the bottom.

“Rachel? Where are you?”

“In the kitchen.”

He burst into the room, expecting flames. What he saw made him just as nervous. Nicole Brandt stood inside the door, a white ceramic dish balanced in her hands. Her ash-blond hair fell in a shining curtain around her shoulders. She wore a navy dress with perfectly tailored lapels and a trim white belt. The merest little wisp of a blue hat sat on top of her head. It looked ridiculous.

She looked gorgeous.

Apparently his daughters thought so, too. They stood in rapt attention, mouths gaping. To her credit, the beautiful doctor didn’t bat an eyelash at the unwanted attention.

“Good morning, Dr. Darling. Miss Winifred asked me to deliver this. She said that if you put it in the oven now, at three hundred degrees, it will be ready to eat when church is over.” She held out the dish.

“Oh. That’s very kind of her. Thank you.” Joshua stuffed the dish into the oven and set the temperature. “But why didn’t you use the front door? Surely it’s closer?”

A funny looked washed over her model-perfect features. Chagrin, maybe? No, sheepishness, that was it. She licked her lips, fiddled with the white leather strap over her shoulder, then peeped up at him through her lashes.

“I would have,” she murmured. “But there’s an elephant on your step.”

Ruth Ann burst into delighted giggles, Rachel chuckled and even Rosalyn grinned.

“There’s no elephant!” He forced himself not to smile.

“Well, it’s not exactly an elephant.” She temporized. “But it’s huge and gray and has slobber dribbling all over its face.” Her disgust was obvious.

“Ladybug!” The girls turned and raced to the front door.

Joshua beat them to it.

“No way,” he said firmly, locking the door and setting the chain for good measure. “I do not want that animal traipsing through this house. Mrs. Tyndall can’t keep up with the cleaning as it is.”

“But— Dad!”

“Yes?” He raised his eyebrow at Rachel and saw her wilt.

“Nothing.” One by one the children drifted away to continue their preparations for church, leaving him alone with her.

“So now you can understand why I thought it best to use the back entrance.” Nicole Brandt flicked her eyes up to stare into his. “I hope that’s not a problem? Your dog is, er, rather large.”

He knew she wanted to add something to that. Probably a remark about the beast’s filth. He hastened to correct her.

“Of course I understand. And, no, it’s not a problem at all.” He glanced around, checking. What else? Oh, yes. The dog. “Ladybug does not belong to us, thank heavens. She simply visits frequently because my daughters insist on feeding her table scraps. I’ll phone her owners.”

He made the call quickly, stating his case in a cool, crisp tone. Why didn’t people leave animals that size on the farm? Or tie them up if they had to keep them in town?

“I’m sure they’ll pick her up soon.”

“I hope so.” She turned to peer out a side window. “It’s enormous. Why would anyone call it Ladybug?”

“If you find the answer to that, I’d really like to know about it.” He walked back toward the kitchen, speaking over his shoulder as he went. “It’s a mystery to me. Have a seat if you’re staying.”

“Hmm.” She sat, long, slim legs crossed delicately.

“Will you button my dress up? Please?” Rosalyn held up her favorite fluffy blue dress.

Joshua stifled his groan. It was several sizes too small. He should have given it away ages ago, but Ruth Ann clung to that dress like a lifesaver.

“Not that one, honey,” he murmured, and lifted up a freshly pressed cotton one Mrs. Tyndall had ironed yesterday. “It’s too small, remember? Try this.”

“I like this one.” Her bottom lip jutted out in that stubborn thrust she used to get her own way.

Joshua prepared himself for battle. But before he could speak a word, she intervened.

“I’d love to help you, Rosalyn. You’re such a big girl, aren’t you? How old?” Nicole waited for the requisite number of fingers. “Four? And you still fit into this?” She pretended to squeeze it over the little girl’s head. “Oh, dear.”

“What’s the matter?” Ruthie balanced in the doorway like a stork, one shoe on her foot, the other clutched in her hand.

“Her head’s too big.”

Joshua almost smiled as Nicole pretended to twist the dress this way and that, her fingers pressing down on Rosie’s scalp.

“Way too big. It just won’t fit.” She glanced up at him suddenly, her eyes glowing. “I think we’ll have to operate, Dr. Darling.”

“Operate?” Rachel turned from her stance by the window to stare at Nicole. “On what?”

“On the dress, of course. How else can we get a too-big head into a too-small dress? We may have to operate on the arms, too. They look pretty tiny.” Once more she tried to draw him into the game. “Don’t you think so, Dr. Darling?”

“Hmm. Asking for a second opinion, Dr. Brandt?” He allowed his eyes to indicate his view of this silly game.

“Oh, I think so. Don’t you? When a case is as serious as this I always—” She stopped speaking abruptly.

Joshua forced himself to stop staring into her eyes and figure out what she was doing. He glanced down. Rosie had tossed the favorite dress onto a nearby chair and now began to struggle into the cotton one he’d presented.

“Don’t op’rate on my dress,” she demanded, glaring up at Nicole.

“We were just teasing, honey. It’s your dress, and I wouldn’t dream of damaging it.” Nicole swept a soothing hand across blond frizz that never quite lay down no matter how often Joshua combed it. “It’s a special dress, isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh. My mommy made it for me.”

“Really?” Nicole got up and rescued the tired blue fabric from the chair. “Then we must take very good care of it. One day you can help your little girl into it and tell her about how your mama made this specially.”

A lump came into Joshua’s throat as he watched her slim fingers smooth the fabric into neat folds until the dress was a small square.

“There. Now you can put it in your treasures box.”

“She don’t got one.”

“Doesn’t have,” Joshua corrected automatically. The girls ignored him, their eyes fixed on Nicole.

“She can start one. It’s never too late.”

“Can I get one, Dad?”

“Me, too?”

“Me, three?”

The woman never even let him get a word in!

“I have an idea. I moved some of my stuff into Miss Winifred’s and I have a whole bunch of boxes. After church perhaps you could each come over and choose one, if your father thinks it would be all right.”

He almost made a face at the thought of more clutter in those messy bedrooms. But just in time, Joshua caught the yearning looks on little faces and knew he had to agree.

“I suppose it would be all right. If you promise to keep them put away.”

Naturally they all solemnly promised. As if!

“Fine.” He twitched his tie into place. “Now let’s get moving. Church will be starting in twenty minutes.”

Joshua let them dash off to retrieve whatever it was little girls took to church. When they were gone, he turned back to face his guest.

“If you’ll excuse us—”

“Actually, that’s another reason I’m here. Miss Winifred left ages ago, but before she did, she ordered me over here to catch a ride with you.” She smiled weakly, as if the last thing she wanted was to ride in his vehicle.

He didn’t blame her. He’d rather ride in that red sports car of hers any day. Her words sank in.

“Aunt Win’s not going? Why not? Is she ill?” Joshua rapped the questions out automatically. “Perhaps I’d better take a look.”

“She’s fine. I told you she’s already left.”

The words halted him. He replaced his bag, closed the closet door, then turned around.

“But why—”

“She had to get to church early. Apparently they decided to hold an impromptu choir rehearsal this morning and she wanted to be there. I wasn’t ready, so she told me about the casserole and said to ride with you.” She frowned at his lack of response. “I could have walked if I’d known how to get there.”

“In those shoes?” He eyed her shapely ankles, the narrow heels and shook his head. “Hardly. What happened to your car?”

Her face grew very pink. “I locked the car keys in. I don’t know how. It’s never happened before. I was certain I’d left them in my pocket.”

Joshua’s radar went on alert.

“You don’t have a spare?”

“That’s the really strange part. I’m positive they were on my nightstand last night, but this morning they’re sitting on the car seat—inside the car. And of course I’d put the roof up. It’s really odd.” Her cheeks remained a bright pink. “I feel like a fool. Miss Winifred said no one would be available to help me until Monday.”

“Yes, that is weird.” Dismay fizzled up Joshua’s spine as a twinkle of doubt surfaced in his mind about those keys. Not again! He’d warned her about matchmaking before. Surely Aunt Win wouldn’t try to pair him up with Dr. Brandt?

But in his heart of hearts Joshua knew his aunt would dare that and more if she thought it would help heave him out of what she considered the pit of his despair.

“Dr. Darling?”

Joshua sighed. It was pointless to hope for a way out. This was a small town where everyone knew everyone else. If he didn’t offer to take her, they’d all be talking about him. Again.

“You’d better call me by my given name,” he muttered at last. “Since we’re neighbors.”

“All right.” She tilted the blue hat forward, just a millimeter. “If you agree to do the same.”

He hesitated. But what could he say? “Fine.”

“Dr. Darling, have I done something to offend you?”

One shoe dangled from his finger as he fought for control and a way to avoid the question.

“Why do you say that?”

“Ah, a true debater. Answer a question by asking another question.” She nodded, a knowing light glimmering in her eyes. “I’ll bet you get away with that a lot.”

“Obviously not enough.” He slipped his other shoe on and tied it slowly, taking his time while his mind whirred. Nothing. “I’ll stand by my question—why do you ask?”

“Because of your attitude, of course.” She sat perched on the edge of her chair not two feet from where he stood.

“My attitude?” Joshua frowned. She said it as if he’d been rude. There was nothing wrong with his attitude. “What attitude?”

She sighed. “Never mind. I know a block when I see one.”

“Dr. Brandt—Nicole. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t have an attitude or a—a block, as you put it, about you or anyone else. All I want is a short-term assistant who can function within the parameters I’ve set out without causing additional stress.”

“Do you realize that in the past week you’ve reminded me at least three times, every single day, that I am not a permanent fixture in your office?” She leaned forward, eyes blazing in her beautiful face.

That spark of anger alerted Joshua; he knew he’d gone too far. He stayed exactly where he was and did her the courtesy of quietly listening, though it cost him dearly.

“Hear this, Dr. Darling. I am not staying. I will not be hanging on to your coattails, prevailing upon you to keep me when my six months are over, not even if you beg me on bended knee.”

As if that would happen!

But Joshua got the drift. She was mad. The air around her sizzled, and her blond hair flickered through the air just like the girls’ hair did when there was too much static. He almost smiled.

Big mistake.

“Don’t you laugh at me! I have plans for my future, Dr. Darling, big plans. And they do not include working for, with, or beside you after my term here has been served. There’s no way I’m prepared to give up my dream of surgery and remain secluded in this little town, meting out care to my patients in parsimonious ten-minute intervals. Not one chance in a thousand.”

Like you.

Joshua heard everything she didn’t say. He knew she’d seen past his pretense of doctorly concern to the cad he was beneath. He’d been going through the motions of caring for his patients, and she knew it! The thought galled him, but he couldn’t acknowledge it—not here and not now. He just couldn’t.

“I’m glad to hear that, Dr. Brandt, because as you know, I intend to find the perfect partner.” This time he left the remainder unsaid. “Girls! It’s time to leave. Now.”

They came from all corners of the house, black patent Mary Jane shoes tapping overhead, across the oak floors in a cacophony of scurrying steps. One by one, the girls bounded down the stairs and presented themselves in the front hall.

Joshua gulped at the sight.

They had on hats. Strange, gaudy-looking straw boaters that had originally arrived as Easter bonnets from Aunt Win, and had subsequently been decorated with fuzzy chicks of various rainbow colors, tiny bird’s nests and pussy willows.

He thought Rachel’s was almost decent, covered as it was by tiny pink bows and rosebuds. Until he saw the gaping hole at the back and remembered that Ladybug had sampled it. Straw stuck out, tattered and broken.

Deliberately Joshua moved on to Ruth Ann. She was artistic, creative. Surely—but no, her hat had obviously suffered from her one-handed state. The pretty blue ribbons that had once rippled down her back now hung wrinkled and dingy, their ends frayed. Her motif was chicks. Little puffy bits no bigger than Joshua’s pinkie rimmed the brim, peeping down into her face, their stick feet barely secured to the straw.

But it was his baby, his smallest angel, who’d gone all out to imitate their guest. Yards and yards of filmy white cloth not unlike the bathroom curtain swathed her hat, bent the brim so that it drooped down and created a beehive effect that swayed whenever she moved. A bit of the fabric draped over the front of Rosalyn’s hat, completely shielding her eyes and all but the very tip of her little pink nose. The entire concoction was held in place with a thousand safety pins that glittered and shone in the sunlight.

“Don’t worry, Dad. I helped her with the pins,” Rachel informed him with an artless smile.

“Thank you, dear.” Joshua never knew where the words came from. He only knew that his girls had worked feverishly to attain the same fashion statement as Nicole, and failed miserably.

He also knew that anything he said now would be wrong, so he clamped his lips shut, held open the front door and motioned them all outside.

“Thank goodness Ladybug’s gone.”

“Yeah, she would have wrecked our hats.” Ruthie led the way to the car, eased her way in, then turned to help Rosie.

Rachel followed in a stately saunter that threatened to trip them all up if they didn’t get out of her way.

Dr. Nicole Brandt stood beside him watching the procession, a smile twitching at her lips. Finally she looked at him. He was shocked by the merry twinkle dancing in her eyes.

“You did very well, Dr. Darling,” she whispered. “Now keep a stiff upper lip and everything will be just fine.”

“Easy for you to stay.” He didn’t bother to hide his pained expression. He waited for her to walk out the door, then went to close it. Her hand on his arm stopped him.

“Dr. Darling?”

“Yes?” He frowned. What did she want now? Hadn’t she wreaked enough havoc in his life?

“About the casserole.”

“I put it in the oven and set the temperature, as you said.” He tried to close the door again, but her delicately sandaled foot prevented that. “What?”

“You have to turn the oven on,” she whispered.

Her eyes met his in one quick glance, then she went sashaying down his walk as if she belonged there in her pencil-slim dress, fancy high heels and that ridiculous hat.

Joshua turned his back on them all and went inside to switch on the oven. He knew that—he did! It had simply slipped his mind…with so much else going on.

Discomfited by his own forgetfulness in front of his new doctor, he stomped back outside, slammed the door closed so hard the window creaked, and snapped the dead bolt home with his key.

“I love Sundays,” Nicole sang out as soon as he was in the car. “It’s so much fun to gather together and hear Bible stories. I always imagine what it must have been like in those olden days. I love it.”

“Me, too.”

Agreement with Dr. Brandt’s sentiments echoed through his car twice more. What was he raising—parrots?

Joshua kept his mouth clamped shut and concentrated on getting them all to church without disaster. Once there, he chose a parking spot as far from the door as possible in hopes that the wind would take care of the hat problem for him. Unfortunately, the day was totally calm and the hats remained firmly attached to his daughters’ heads.

The girls raced across the lot as fast as they could manage, calling to their friends as they went.

“I don’t think it’s fitting to take those, er, creations, into the house of God,” he muttered, staring up at the gigantic cross that sat atop the church.

“Why on earth not? They worked so hard making them. You should be proud.” Nicole frowned at him fiercely. “Every single time those girls go out of their way to make something special like this, you should be bursting your buttons with pride.”

“Their mother would kill me.”

Dr. Brandt’s eyes grew cool, frosty. The tension between them grew until he could feel the ice crackling.

“I doubt that very much. I think she’d be very proud. But even if it were true, their mother isn’t here. They are. And so are you. They need to know you love them, no matter what.”

What had caused such anger? he wondered. It came from nowhere. One minute she was smiling like a movie star, the next growling at him as fiercely protective as a mother cub.

“I do love them.” Why was he defending himself?

“Have you told them that lately?” She glared.

Joshua stalked away, a spurt of anger burning inside. What right had she to judge? She didn’t have three kids dependent on her. She was free as a bird.

“You can run, but you can’t hide.” The whisper came from behind his left shoulder.

“I’m not running. I just thought I might sneak into the back pew before anybody figured out the three in those ridiculous getups are my daughters.”

Her hand on his arm prevented him from entering the sanctuary. He looked from it to her eyes, and flinched at the challenge he saw there.

“‘Man looks on the outward appearance,’” she whispered. “‘But God looks on the heart.’ And I can tell you right now, Dr. Darling, that those three girls with their funny hats have the purest little hearts in this entire building.”

She stepped past him, walked through the doorway and disappeared inside.

Joshua grimaced at her invisible back. Dr. Nicole Brandt would make a good surgeon. She cut right to the quick without messing about.

The problem was, her condemnation burned all the way to his soul.