Читать книгу The Fireman's Christmas - Meg Lacey - Страница 8

Danny Santori looked up from the résumé in his hand. “Thank you for coming over on such short notice, Mrs….” His mind went blank. What was her name again? Staring at the austere woman seated in his cluttered front parlor, he felt a smile stretch his mouth until he was sure he resembled a grinning monkey. It was a hot day in Warenton, Pennsylvania, but the woman opposite him was dressed as if it was early spring with her long-sleeved buttoned-up blouse and gray cardigan.

God, he hated this! It was a royal pain, interviewing babysitters, explaining his situation over and over again. He hated the fact that his wife wasn’t here to do it for him. Of course, if she had been, he wouldn’t be in this predicament at all. Laurie had been perfectly content to be a full-time wife and mother, and had even given up her job when Danny suggested it due to his schedule. Danny realized he’d been a lucky man—now he was discovering how lucky. He stared blankly at the stern face before him. “Uh, Mrs….”

The older woman gave him the once-over with narrowed, suspicious eyes, then dropped her gaze to the frayed Oriental rug sprawled across the scarred hardwood floor.

Her mouth pursed as if she’d just sucked a lemon. “My name is Peach. P-E-A-C-H. Miss.”

Danny blinked, unable to reconcile the sweet name with this sour woman. He wished her stare didn’t make him feel so much like an errant schoolboy. After all, he was supposed to be in charge here, wasn’t he? He stood, hoping to feel more at ease once he was on his feet.

“I understand from the agency that you can be here day after tomorrow, Miss Peach. That’s great, because my shift at the firehouse starts that day at 7:00 a.m. The kids probably won’t be up at that time, which is why I was glad you could stop by today so I can introdu—oooofff!”

Danny staggered, then righted himself to look down at the small, round body that had just wrapped itself around his left leg. His almost-four-year-old daughter hung on as if she were resisting a hurricane wind. “Emma, let go, honey.”

“Daddy,” she demanded, hugging harder. “Walk me.”

“Not now, Em. I’m talking to this nice lady.”

Emma just held on, staring up at him with that heart-wrenching smile and tousled blond hair that reminded him so much of her mother. Danny’s resistance sagged. “Okay, just once around.”

With Emma clinging like Velcro, he swung his leg wide and walked around the room, talking over his shoulder. “As I was saying, my shift lasts twenty-four hours, which is why I requested someone who can stay overnight. I take it this is okay with you?”

Miss Peach adjusted her black straw hat more squarely on top of her skinned-back gray hair. “Naturally the agency explained your needs in full detail.”

“Good. And you’re sure four kids won’t be too much for you to handle?”

Miss Peach drew herself up even straighter in her chair. “I have been under the employ of the agency for twenty-two years, Mr. Santori. I assure you that I am quite capable of maintaining order and discipline in your household.”

At her tone, Danny stopped walking, barely managing to keep his hand from flashing her a mock salute. Suddenly he wasn’t sure he wanted to subject his kids to this rigid, humorless woman. The problem was, he didn’t have much choice. Maybe he could suggest that she lighten up a bit. He reached down to peel Emma from his leg. “Okay, punkin, the ride’s over.”

Emma started to resist, but Danny headed her off. “Why don’t you find one of Mommy’s cups and we’ll give Miss Peach a cup of Daddy’s special coffee.”

Emma brightened. “The purple flower cups?”

“That’s right.” Danny patted her bottom. “Now scoot.”

Emma giggled and scampered through an arched entrance into the adjacent dining room. Danny smiled at Miss Peach and gestured toward an antique oak sideboard. “I keep a pot on all the time when I’m home. Firehouse habit, I guess.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Miss Peach announced with an imperious shake of her head. “Caffeine, you know.”

“Yes, I know. Uh, isn’t that the point?” Danny’s frown was perplexed, but at her stern stare he added, “Can I offer you something else?”

“Fruit juice, if you have any.”

“Sure thing.” Danny prayed his refrigerator held something besides Kool-Aid. He went quickly to the kitchen, returning with a plastic pitcher in one hand and his own coffee mug in the other. “I have cherry Kool-Aid—will that do?”

“You have no juice? Juice is good for children, Mr. Santori.”

“The kids like this better, I think. It’s got lots of vitamin C and stuff.”

“Huuummph,” was her reply.

He started to speak but stopped short, following Miss Peach’s rapier gaze as it circled the room, cutting across every surface—or at least what surface could be seen beneath the clutter. He grimaced at the sight of mail and other papers littering the coffee table, at the pile of gym shoes tossed haphazardly into one corner, and at the packs of crackers stuffed around the antique silver service that decorated an old tea trolley. He remembered how delighted Laurie had been to find that, and wondered how long since it had been polished.

“Sorry the place is such a mess.” Danny shrugged sheepishly. He pushed aside a stack of magazines in order to set the pitcher and his mug on the coffee table. “The last babysitter quit rather unexpectedly last week. I called the agency right away, but I had to work last night….”

“What is that?” Miss Peach pointed to the wall between the kitchen and dining room.

Danny followed her gaze. “It’s a dumbwaiter. One of those elevator things that comes up from the old cellar where the summer kitchen used to be. These old houses—”

“I know what a dumbwaiter is,” Miss Peach replied. “I’m talking about that.”

He squinted at the crack where the dumbwaiter’s wood-paneled door met the frame. Was that a towel wedged in the opening? Despite his constant warnings, the boys must have been playing in the thing again. He’d started over to investigate when Emma’s chirping voice claimed his attention.

“I found it, Daddy.” She emerged from the dining room, cradling a cup and saucer protectively in her chubby arms as if they were more precious than gold. “I won’t drop it, will I?”

“Of course you won’t, punkin.” Danny resisted the urge to snatch up the delicate china, waiting instead until Emma proudly placed it in his hands. “Good girl.”

It seemed a sacrilege to fill the hand-painted porcelain with cherry Kool-Aid, but Danny didn’t care to question Miss Peach’s preference again. He handed her the cup and saucer, then picked up his own coffee mug. “When we’re done here, I’ll call in the rest of my crew. I’m sure you’ll find them a well-behav—”

“AIIIEEEE!” A piercing screech filled the air, followed by the machine-gun-like rat-a-tat-tat of the dumbwaiter door as it slid upward.

Miss Peach jumped to her feet, her arms flying up, cherry Kool-Aid splashing all over the front of her starched white blouse. She managed to hold on to the cup in one hand and the saucer in the other as she stared at the opening in the wall.

From the dumbwaiter’s depths two black heads emerged, then two perfectly matched, leering faces. “Earthlings! Surrender. Or we’ll slice you open and turn your guts to goo!”

Danny stood frozen for a moment, unsure whether to laugh at the ridiculous sight his twin sons made, kill them or rescue Laurie’s china from Miss Peach’s death grip. He took a step toward the sputtering woman, then looked over his shoulder at Emma crouched behind a chair with her mouth gaping. “Emma, get some cold water.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

Danny grabbed a towel from a chair and reached for Miss Peach, intending to blot the spreading stain from her formidable bosom. She batted his hand away, dropping the cup and saucer onto the rug, where they landed with a muffled thunk. Her hands now free, she used one to pluck her soaked blouse from her chest and the other to point at the open dumbwaiter. “What on earth…?”

“Come out of there, you two!” Relieved to have something else to do, Danny tossed the towel onto Miss Peach’s shoulder, then reached inside the gaping hole and hauled out a pair of identical squirming, mirthful boys, dressed in shorts and T-shirts with aluminum wrapped around their chests to resemble armor. Their older sister’s makeup was streaked all over their faces. Tufts of dark hair of varying lengths stuck out at odd angles from their heads, with pink scalp showing through here and there. They must have decided to cut their hair to resemble the alien space warriors they’d seen on an old video the night before.

Danny propped his twin sons against the wall. “Don’t move, or the only gooey guts will be yours,” he promised.

He turned back to his soaked guest. “I’m truly sorry, Miss Peach. You’ve probably guessed by now that these are my sons, Kyle and Kevin. They aren’t usually so—”

“Daaaaddy!”

Emma’s warning cry from the vicinity of the kitchen door erupted just a split second before a resounding “Woof!” filled the air. Their huge yellow Labrador retriever skated into the room, paws skidding on the hardwood floor, pushing the Oriental rug up like an accordion. Emma made a valiant attempt to hold the dog’s exuberant tail. “Out, General! Sit!”

Neither command was obeyed as the dog leaped toward the two boys. Miss Peach took a step backward, but her sensible low heel caught on a fold of the carpet. Danny grabbed for her, his fingertips just missing her elbow. She flung her arms wide again before falling back into the chair.

“Oh, God,” Danny groaned. “Are you all right?”

“Here’s the water, Daddy.” Emma, holding a sponge at arm’s length, raced into the melee and slapped the dripping sponge against Miss Peach’s chest. The poor woman let out a strangled cry.

With her eyes bigger than saucers, Emma put one finger in her mouth and backed away. The boys collapsed into a heap, laughing hysterically.

Danny groaned again.

As if pulled up by strings like a marionette, Miss Peach jerked to her feet. She swatted at the dog sniffing the hem of her skirt, snatched the sponge up and flung it to the table, then pointed at Emma. “That was ice-cold, young lady.”

Emma burst into tears, which drew her warrior brothers to the rescue.

“Hey,” Kyle yelled, his hair sticking out in all directions like a molting rooster. “You can’t talk to our sister that way!”

“You better leave us alone!” Kevin added furiously.

General barked an emphatic command before Danny finally gathered his wits enough to respond. “Quiet!” he roared. “Will everyone just…be…quiet!”

The noise level dropped as he turned back to Miss Peach. The woman was a mess. Her blouse was red-stained and soaking wet, her skirt was hiked up to reveal thick stockings and a slip with the bottom strip of lace torn. Amazingly, her hat was still on her head, though it limped to one side.

In a vain attempt at damage control, Danny gestured with his hands spread, palms upward. “Miss Peach, I’m so sorry. What can I say? Boys will be boys.”

“Not when I’m here they won’t.” Miss Peach straightened her clothing. Once in command of herself, she took a deep breath, exhaled through flaring nostrils then bobbed her head with a definitive nod. “It seems my work is cut out for me here. Look around you, Mr. Santori. Usually I do not tolerate such unruliness. Be certain I shall have your children under control in no time. You are fortunate that I am not easily discouraged.”

Danny cringed inwardly at the tyrannical tone in her voice; nevertheless, he obeyed her by scanning the chaos around him. But instead of seeing the mess, he saw only the way Emma huddled in the corner, tears in her eyes. Even the boys cowered beneath Miss Peach’s smug expression.

He just couldn’t do it.

Shoving his hand through his hair, Danny shook his head. “To tell you the truth, Miss Peach, I like a little unruliness now and then.”

“Perhaps you don’t understand. I just said that I am prepared to give your children the full benefit of my experience. In one week you will hardly recognize them.”

That was exactly what Danny was afraid of.

He sighed, feeling like a drowning man giving away his life preserver. “Miss Peach, I appreciate your willingness to take on this bunch,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, “but I don’t think this is going to work out. Thanks for taking the time to come over.”

His declaration was met with stunned silence for a moment, then Kyle let out a triumphant whoop. Emma clapped her small hands, her upturned face beaming at him. Even the dog voiced his opinion, his tail thumping the floor in a happy rhythm.

“Well!” Miss Peach clutched her handbag to her stomach. “In that case, I won’t waste any more of your time.”

By the way her mouth pursed, he could tell her dignity was affronted, but Danny didn’t have a chance to make amends before she headed down the hallway for the front door, chin high. He followed, but stopped when she allowed the screen door to slam back, practically in his face.

“Miss Peach,” he warned. “Look out!”

Peering through the screen, he watched as she marched down the porch steps straight into the path of Nana, a neighbor’s boisterous St. Bernard, who had just dashed around the corner of the house with Alison, Danny’s oldest daughter, in hot pursuit. The woman teetered precariously on the last step, then nimbly hopped off into an overgrown flower bed. This time her hat flew off, landing a scant, tempting six inches in front of the surprised dog.

Danny pushed through the door, followed by his three other children but stopped short of attempting another rescue. Miss Peach stepped forward onto the walk, then snatched her hat from Nana’s slobbery mouth. With remarkable dignity considering the circumstances, she looked up at Danny.

“I have no doubt that you will someday regret turning me away, Mr. Santori. In the meantime, good luck finding competent child care. You shall need it.” With that she turned and stalked toward her car parked at the curb.

Danny watched her go, torn between feelings of relief and sheer panic.

“Who was that?” Alison asked, snapping her fingers to claim Nana’s attention from the flower bed.

“Mrs. Vulcan,” Kyle said.

“The Wicked Witch of the West,” Kevin added.

“She was mean!” Emma exclaimed.

“My last hope,” Danny moaned. He rubbed his temple, trying to ward off the headache he could feel coming on. “Well,” he muttered, “that went well.”

Only Alison, at the age of almost fourteen more astute than the others, seemed to notice the sarcasm. “What will we do now? Dad?”

It was a good question, and he wished with all his heart he had an answer. He tried to summon a reassuring smile. “I don’t know, Alison. Will you keep an eye on Emma while I straighten up the mess inside? And you two—go wash up and change your clothes, pronto. And if I ever catch you with scissors or pulling a stunt like that again…” His look had the boys scampering inside like frantic squirrels.

Danny stood on the front porch after the kids had retreated into the house, staring down at the ragged flower beds that Laurie had once kept so neat and orderly. He wasn’t exactly a control freak, but lately he had felt just a bit…What was that word? Frazzled? Man, he needed a drink. Or a two-day nap. He needed Laurie. He didn’t have time for all of this and work, too. Now, if he could find someone just like Laurie…

He shoved his hand through his hair and sighed. Alcohol and sleep might sound appealing in the short run, but neither would solve his problem. Not when he had to figure out who was going to take care of his kids when his next shift came up day after tomorrow.

What Danny really needed was a miracle.

TESSA DOHERTY WAS in her favorite position, crouched on her knees in the dirt. She whistled happily to herself as she dug her fingers into the soil, kneading and smoothing the flower beds she had designed to enhance the English Tudor house that belonged to her newest client. Reaching for a fairy polyantha rose, Tessa lifted it from its flat and carefully separated the roots. Gently she nestled the plant into the hole she’d just dug near the low, decorative limestone wall, which would support the delicate blossoms.

“Be happy, little rose,” Tessa said, smiling as she patted the soil around the plant. She sniffed, inhaling the pungent scent of dirt newly mixed with fertilizer. To some people the smell was disgusting, but to Tessa the smell was life. It was rebirth and fruitfulness, creation and creativity. The very air breathed hope and new life, which was exactly what she’d needed when she moved from Chicago to Warenton.

Warenton, nestled on the edge of the western Pocono mountain range, was a midsize town, although the locals called it a small city. It was a place where friendly smiles were directed at everyone and a warm welcome was guaranteed. Breaking in to the business market here was a different story. Even though everyone was politely interested and even enthusiastic about her new landscaping business, they generally patronized the old tried-and-true establishments. She wondered how long she had to be here before she could consider herself a real Warentonian.

Tessa inhaled deeply as the soft breeze brought another fragrant wisp in her direction. Then she chuckled quietly. She could just hear her son’s comments if she shared her fanciful thoughts. Eric would probably look at her as if she was nuts and then say, “It’s cow manure, Mom. Get over it!”

Tessa shifted her shoulders as she felt a drop of sweat roll leisurely between her shoulder blades. It was hot and humid today. August had arrived with a vengeance. She glanced over at her daughter, Josie, who leaned over an ornamental fishpond in the center of the garden.

Josie giggled as delightedly as only a seven-year-old could. “Mommy, their mouths look so funny when they eat.” She puckered her lips to make a fish face. “Like this.”

Tessa laughed. “That’s pretty good, honey. Keep it up and we’ll have to eat you for dinner.”

“Yuck,” Eric said. He was sprawled under a tree reading a book. “Josie would taste like a stink-fish.”

Josie glared at her brother. “I would not. Would I, Mommy?”

Grinning, Tessa said, “No, funny face, you wouldn’t.”

“See, Eric!” Josie turned back to splash the surface of the pond as Tessa resumed her work. The garden hummed with bees and the sweet call of birds in the trees. This was the life. Quiet, solitude and hard work to renew her soul. Why hadn’t her ex-husband, Colin, been able to understand how important this was to her? How she needed this?

Water under the bridge, girl! Enjoy the tranquillity.

For the next half hour she did. Then she became aware of how quiet it was. There were no sounds from the children, nothing except the twitters of birds and the buzz of insects. Tessa stood up, looking around, but there was no sign of her daughter.

“Josie? Josie, where are you? Eric?”

Then suddenly the silence was broken by the twinkling sound of glass breaking inside the house, followed by a yell. One of the French doors on the terrace swung open and banged against the house. A beautifully groomed white cat streaked out faster than heat lightning. Eric and Josie were right behind the animal, while an astonished Tessa stared.

The kids tried to corner the cat beneath a glass patio table, but the wily animal was too clever for them. The cat feinted right, then left, so Eric bumped into Josie, and in the process, the cat dashed into the shrubbery.

As her children started after the animal, Tessa ordered, “Hold it right there, you two! What were you doing in Mrs. Sherbourne’s house? And what was that crash?”

“I wanted to see the kitty,” Josie said. “He was sitting in the window.”

“I saw Josie go in and went after her. That’s when the cat saw the door and made a beeline for outside,” Eric explained.

“And the crash?”

“I bumped this big jar by the door and it fell over,” Josie confessed with a worried look.

“Oh boy,” Tessa breathed. Mrs. Sherbourne is going to freak. Tessa glanced around. “Eric, where is that cat now?”

Eric pointed at the shrubbery. “He went that way.”

“You’d better find that animal before it wanders into traffic or something worse.”

Eric plunged off the terrace into the green bushes, with his sister about to follow. Tessa stopped her. “Oh no, you don’t, young lady. Josie, when we get home, you won’t be allowed to do anything but go straight to your room.”

“Why?” Josie wailed.

“You know why. Didn’t I tell both of you to stay out of Mrs. Sherbourne’s house? You made a huge mistake going inside when I distinctly told you not to.”

Josie opened her mouth to speak just as Eric burst through the wall of clematis and climbing roses that separated the yard from the driveway.

Startled, Tessa lurched around, completely disturbing the plants she had just positioned. “What? Eric, what are you—”

“Grab him, Mom!” Eric pointed to a white blur leaping through the lavender bed.

Before she could move, Eric had followed the errant feline into the flower bed, his feet wreaking havoc as they flattened the delicate lavender blossoms.

“Eric, stop chasing that animal this minute,” Tessa yelled, closing her eyes as they both narrowly missed a collision with a flowering pink azalea.

“You told me to find him,” her son replied, looking wildly around for the cat as he skidded to a stop on the flagstone path.

“Eeeewww! He’s got a poor little mouse.” Josie scurried to head off the cat, which was making for a patch of yellow mums.

Tessa leaped up to run interference, but her move only caused the cat to swerve through the flower bed she had just planted, with Eric and Josie close behind, destruction in their wake. “My flowers!”

“We’ve got him now!” Eric shouted triumphantly…though too soon.

The cat raced for the fishpond. Tessa watched helplessly as her children stopped in time, but the cat misjudged the distance, slipped across the ledge of the pond and plopped into the water. Eric snatched up the furious feline, complete with a wet mouse dangling by the tail from the cat’s mouth.

Tessa glanced at the wet Persian cat, who finally dropped the mouse but now was in a snit, spitting, growling and lashing his tail. “Eric, be careful. He might bite.”

Inspecting the cat, Eric said, “He doesn’t look too happy.”

Tessa propped her hands on her hips. “That’s an understatement. What did you think you were doing, Eric Doherty, chasing that cat around through my flowers?”

“You told me to find him, Mom. Besides, I couldn’t let him eat the mouse.”

“Cats are supposed to eat mice. That’s their job.”

Josie tilted her head. “Did you want the little mouse to die, Mommy?”

“No, of course not, honey. But some laws of nature aren’t meant to be broken. Especially not on someone else’s property, and certainly not when that someone is paying me to landscape her garden.” Tessa studied the cat. “That animal is an absolute mess.”

Eric looked at the bedraggled white cat, his fur now streaked with mud and sopping wet, his tail twitching with temper. “He wouldn’t win any show prizes, would he?”

“Josie, run inside, find a bathroom and grab a towel so we can dry the cat.”

“You told me not to go into the house,” Josie complained.

Tessa exhaled, trying to keep her temper. “Now you can go into the house.”

Josie shook her head as she trudged toward the French doors. “Parents!” A few minutes later Josie emerged with a towel, but she wasn’t alone. Mrs. Sherbourne was right behind her.

When the woman reached the terrace she stopped as if she’d been shot. Her eyes darted right, then left before focusing on the squirming cat in Eric’s arms. “Prince Puff Puff,” she cried, “what have they done to you?” Mrs. Sherbourne rushed to snatch her cat from Eric’s arms. “Oh, my poor poor little man, you look like an alley cat.” She started to hug the animal but then stopped and held him out away from her while Josie threw the towel over her arm. Mrs. Sherbourne wrapped her precious pussycat in the yellow terry cloth before casting her stern eyes on Tessa.

“Mrs. Doherty, what is going on here? Not only is my cat dripping wet, my flower beds a mess, which I did not pay to have happen, I might add, but—” she paused dramatically “—but my Lalique vase is in pieces on the floor. Didn’t I tell you my house is off-limits, especially to children? If you are going to insist on bringing children with you, then I have no choice but—”

Tessa rushed to speak. “No, oh no. It’s just been the past few days until I can make other arrangements.”

Mrs. Sherbourne looked down her nose at her, something Tessa thought was impossible, but the haughty woman had perfected the technique. “See that you do, please, or I’ll have to look for another designer.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Sherbourne, I’ll repair the garden. If you tell me the price of the vase I can arrange payments or perhaps free services if that would work?”

Mrs. Sherbourne gave Tessa and her children a frosty glance. “It was a family heirloom given to me by my mother-in-law.”

Tessa felt her heart sink at the news. “Oh…oh, my God, I’m so sorry.”

Mrs. Sherbourne unbent enough to give her a chilly smile. “It’s your good fortune that I have always considered that vase hideous. As for the payment, we’ll discuss it later.”

Tessa stepped forward. “I can give your cat a bath if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary. I’ll call my groomer.” Mrs. Sherbourne headed for the house, but looked back over her shoulder. “You’ll have the repairs complete by the end of the day, I trust?”

Tessa nodded. “Absolutely.”

With a wintry smile Mrs. Sherbourne inclined her head and then disappeared inside the house, leaving Tessa to deal with her children.

“Wow, Mom,” Eric breathed. “I thought you were getting fired for a minute there.”

Tessa glared at him and then Josie. “No thanks to you two. Take your sister and go to the van. Get some towels and dry off. I’ll be right there.”

“Mom—” Eric began.

“Right now. And not through the clematis. Go around.” Tessa watched her children trudge through a gap in the hedge, then turned to survey the damage in the garden.

It looked as if a tornado had passed through. Uprooted plants lay drying in the sun beside gouges in the freshly turned topsoil. A whole pile of mulch was scattered over the flagstone walk, and the brick edging she had laid so carefully that afternoon was half out of the ground. Tessa passed a hand over her face, wondering how many of the expensive, imported fish were now floating belly-up. No wonder Mrs. Sherbourne was shocked. She’d been expecting her spacious backyard to be turned into a peaceful santuary, not a war zone.

Tessa glanced at her watch. Noon. If she skipped lunch maybe she could—On cue, her stomach rumbled, followed by an impatient honk from the van out front. Tessa sighed. She couldn’t get any more work done until she took care of her children. And she might as well grab a bite while she was at it. Hopefully, her best friend Rhonda would be free to watch the kids for the rest of the afternoon.

Just as Tessa stepped around the front of her dilapidated van, Eric pressed on the horn one more time. She jumped, then smiled ruefully, shaking her head at the two grinning children waiting for her. She knew they were good kids, really. It was just that kids and work didn’t mix.

To further prove the point, Eric and Josie seemed relieved when she suggested taking them to Rhonda’s, making Tessa wonder if they truly enjoyed going to work with her as much as they claimed they did. Had they been trying only to make things easier for her? Josie was too young to understand all the ramifications of the divorce, but certainly at twelve, Eric was aware that their financial situation had changed to a more modest lifestyle.

The van coughed and sputtered as she turned the key in the ignition and eased her foot down on the gas pedal. Sometimes it started right up, sometimes not. Tessa had planned to use the money she made on this Sherbourne job to have the van serviced. Who knew what would happen to her fees now and to her hopes of referrals.

As Tessa ground the van into first gear, a siren wailed in the distance, followed by the commanding blast of an air horn. Even though she couldn’t see the fire truck, Tessa pictured the huge red engine barreling to the rescue. Right now she almost wished someone would come to her rescue.

And take away your hard-won independence? Who are you kidding, girl?

Tessa halted the van at an intersection, releasing her shoulder-length hair from its ponytail and running her fingers through the damp strands. Since when had her conscience started sounding like Rhonda? She felt a tapping on her shoulder, and craned her neck to see Josie straining forward against the seat belt.

“I’ll help you fix the flowers tomorrow, Mommy.”

“Me, too, Mom.” Eric nodded with masculine certainty, though his voice broke with a change in pitch. “No more video games at work, no chasing in the garden even if a grizzly bear is chowing down on Josie.”

“Hey,” Josie protested.

Is this what I want? What good is independence if my kids suffer for it? Tessa turned a troubled frown back to the traffic as the light changed. She hated to see Eric and Josie looking so unhappy, just when it seemed they’d all gotten through the worst after Colin had left. On the other hand, she’d worked too hard to give up yet.

She’d just have to think of something. “Thanks for the offer, guys.” Tessa spoke over her shoulder as she moved the van back into traffic. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything without sacrificing Josie to a grizzly bear.” Brave words, she thought as Josie giggled.

All Tessa needed was a miracle.