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Treasured in Tennessee

Page 10

by Kirsten Osbourne


  Brodie and Emily’s bedroom door flew open, and his aunt was standing there, her hair kind of messy and her cheeks all red. “Hey, kiddo! Your uncle and I were just hanging up new curtains in here.”

  Brodie stuck his head out in the hallway and winked. “No, we weren’t,” he told Alec confidentially. “We were kissing.”

  “Gross,” Alec yelled over his shoulder, heading for his space in the attic. It had been two and a half months now, and he still checked every day for Bandit. He hoped she’d find her way back from the woods, but so far, the attic space was empty except for him and some dusty old trunks.

  Crumbling the last bite of the cookie on the floor, he whistled softly. “C’mere, Bandit.” He sat there quietly for a few minutes and was getting ready to go back downstairs when he heard a chittering noise. “Bandit?” he said again, but the raccoon didn’t appear. He went searching for her and finally found her, nesting between two rafters in the corner of the far end of the long room.

  Downstairs, Emily shook her head at Brodie. “Why do you always tell him we’re kissing?” she asked in exasperation.

  “You know exactly why. William told me that Jacob says that married couples are supposed to kiss.” He punctuated the statement with a wicked sparkle in his electric blue eyes and nibble to the side of her neck, bared by the low ponytail she wore. “And we’d hate for Alec to think we’re not happily married.”

  “Well, I said you were helping me hang curtains, so don’t you think you should put that new curtain rod up so you don’t make a liar out of me?” Emily said, her hands on her hips. “You’ve been avoiding these curtain rods for the last three days, and your honey-do list isn’t getting any shorter,” she added teasingly.

  “You got it, darlin’. Not my fault you distract me so easily.” He winked at her and picked up a bracket, lining it up next to the window.

  “What do you think he does up there every day?” Emily asked. “I didn’t want to pry, and he never says.”

  “Probably just kid stuff,” Brodie said, “I always liked hanging out in my grandparents’ attic as a kid. Pretended it was a pirate lair. But if you want to know, go ask him.”

  Emily stood at the bottom of the steep little staircase. “Alec?” He didn’t answer, so she headed for the top of the steps. The windows at each end were propped open, letting the crisp fall breeze circulate through the attic. She saw Alec crouched down at the far end. He looked up and quickly put his finger to his lips.

  She walked cautiously closer, hoping that he hadn’t befriended a spider, or worse, chipmunks. Instead, a small raccoon lay curled up in a pile of old bedding, with three little kits nestled up at her belly. She didn’t look aggressive, but Emily automatically put her hand on Alec’s shoulder to pull him away.

  “Don’t touch it,” she whispered urgently. “That thing might bite you.”

  “No, she won’t,” he whispered back, smiling happily. “This is my friend, Bandit.” Then his face fell. “You’re not going to make me get rid of her, are you? She’s been my friend since we moved here.”

  Emily caught a sudden glimpse of the future. Her almost-eleven-year-old dragging every stray animal home that he could find. Dogs, rabbits, cats, lizards, and who knew what else. But she put her hand on her own belly, looking down at the contented animal snuggling her babies. She wasn’t about to put a new mother out on the streets.

  “Go ask your Uncle Brodie,” she said instead, knowing that her husband would agree but would likely relocate the litter out to a warm spot in the barn.

  Alec dropped a little pile of crumbs within reach of the raccoon and slowly scooched away. “I’ll ask Uncle Brodie before I go to William’s. He’s teaching me pok—parcheesi this afternoon. Actually, I was going to ask you something, too,” Alec added, still watching Bandit and her babies. “Is it cool if I just call you, like, Ma and Dad? It’s a lot easier than saying ‘Aunt Emily’ and ‘Uncle Brodie.’ And I don’t know if you like ‘Ma,’ but I already had a ‘Mom’ . . .” He trailed off and glanced up at her worriedly.

  Emily smiled at him and reached out to mess up his reddish-brown hair, her heart completely full. “Ma sounds like the perfect name for a country wife,” she said softly. Alec, grinning, headed full tilt toward the stairs, and Emily shook her head and called after him: “And tell William no poker!”

  About the Author

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