And all this over pajamas versus real clothes?
“Fine,” she growled, trying not to care that she’d just lost to a two-year-old. She set her niece upright and handed over the fleece pajama top decorated with penguins. “You can wear the darned pajamas.”
As if someone had turned off a tap, Annabelle’s tears stopped flowing and she clasped her arms around the treasured garment. “Jammy!”
“At least they’re warm,” Josh offered. “And it’s not like anyone’s going to see her out here.”
True on both counts. But Grace’s pride still stung, and her confidence in her parenting ability had taken a blow. If she couldn’t get a toddler into a t-shirt, how in hell was she going to manage all the other challenges she faced? The teen years, school bullies, homework fights…if Julianne didn’t recover, she would face all those and more. On her own. With four kids.
She so hadn’t thought this through when Julianne had asked her to be the legal guardian. Had never anticipated that something might actually happen. And now that it had…
Tears of self-pity welled in her eyes. Josh’s hand patted her shoulder.
“You’re doing a good job, Aunt Grace,” he assured her. He nodded at his little sister, who was now tracing the outlines of the penguins on her belly, happily chatting to them. “Mom always said she had to pick her battles with this one. Why don’t you let me take her outside for a while? It will give you a break.”
Great. Now she was making such a mess of things that a ten-year-old wanted to rescue her. Grace sniffled inelegantly and shored up her backbone. How dared she feel sorry for herself when her nephew had been through so much? Josh had dealt with more than his fair share of responsibility and guilt. He needed a strong, capable adult in his life, not one who folded in the face of a toddler’s tantrum, and certainly not one who gave in to self-pity in front of him. She dredged up a smile from beneath the fatigue and worry.
“Thanks, Josh, but Annabelle and I can both use some fresh air.” She hauled herself to her feet and gazed down at the curly-headed imp. No wonder Sean had given in to the demands to bandage all the stuffies. The poor man hadn’t stood a—
She broke off the thought. Damn. That was at least the sixth time today he’d crept into her mind. She brushed off the seat of her jeans. “Right,” she said. “Pity party’s over. Annabelle, you and I are going for a walk.”
Annabelle fixed her with a suspicious scowl. “Annbell d’ess?”
“No, you don’t have to get dressed.” Grace sighed. “You can wear your pajamas.”
“Find shoes!” the toddler responded enthusiastically. She raced out of the room and down the hallway as fast as her chubby little legs would carry her, announcing to her sisters, “Annbell walk!”
“The keys?” Josh prompted.
“Right. Sorry.” Grace cast a look around the room. Dresser top and end tables all sported nothing more than the usual toddler paraphernalia: wipes, a spare pacifier, three stuffed animals complete with “casts,” and a collection of picture books. But definitely no keys.
She frowned. “You’re sure they’re not in my pocket? I know I had them when I went over to—shit.”
She scraped a hand through her hair and closed her eyes, reliving the scene in Sean’s bedroom from two nights before. The surprise attack, the jujitsu throw, Sean’s hard landing on the floor. Hell, the keys had to have dropped out there. Or else somewhere along the path.
She wasn’t sure which she’d prefer, because while crawling around the woods on her hands and knees held little appeal, another visit with Sean had not been part of the plan. She opened her eyes to a grinning Josh.
“You know that sounded really bad, right?” he asked.
Grace thought back over her words and rolled her eyes. Only a ten-year-old would have picked up on that. She reached out to ruffle his hair. “Funny. And I think I may have dropped my keys at Mr. McKittrick’s. Annabelle and I will walk over there and check, all right?”
Sheer, naked relief flashed behind Josh’s wire-framed glasses. She didn’t have to ask to know it was because she hadn’t asked him to go instead. Hadn’t asked him to face a big-voiced man who reminded him entirely too much of his father.
She gave her nephew’s thin shoulders a quick hug, then nudged him toward the door.
“Come on. Let’s go see how many shoes Annabelle has managed to try on by now, shall we?”
………………
“Man owie,” Annabelle said, stepping over the threshold when Sean opened the sliding glass door. She planted an enthusiastic kiss on the plaster cast just above his knee, patted it, and grinned up at him. “Kiss better.”
Before he could stop her, she trotted across the living room and climbed up on the couch, leaving a muddy trail in her wake. Sean gazed after the blond curls in bemusement. He’d swear that kid was even cuter today than she’d been two days ago—tantrum aside. He turned back to the door at the sound of a groan.
“Oh, hell,” Grace said, her expression dismayed. She stopped just outside and viewed the damage. “I’m so sorry. I was looking for my keys along the trail, and she got away on me. I figured I’d catch up with her on the deck.”
She swept back a handful of windblown hair from cheeks made rosy by the autumn morning chill, and Sean’s breath hitched in his chest. Damned if the aunt wasn’t cuter than she’d been yesterday, too. He swallowed the thought.
Thoughts, plural, because he wasn’t supposed to be finding either aunt or kids in the least bit appealing.
He realized Grace was waiting for some kind of response, and he stepped aside to let her in. The faint scent of summer-fresh strawberries followed her. He took an extra step back.
“No problem,” he said. “Really. Some of the dirt is mine, anyway. I was out for a walk last night.”
Grace looked down at the print of a large, distinctly unshod foot. She lifted her gaze to his. “A walk,” she echoed. “On crutches and in the dark. Barefoot. This is a habit of yours, is it?”
Deciding the question was best left ignored, he cleared his throat. “I have your keys here. They must have dropped out of your pocket the other night.” He shot a look at Annabelle and dropped his voice to add, “When you tried to kill me.”
Already rosy cheeks deepened in color.
“I didn’t hurt you too much?” she asked. “I really am sorry.”
Sean shook his head. He curled fingers around his crutches, his hand itching to brush back her hair and trace the curve of a cheek. “I’m teasing. And no, no lasting injuries. The keys are on my nightstand. I’ll get them for you while you grab Annabelle.”
“Annbell s’ay,” the toddler announced from the couch.
Grace angled her head to look past him at her niece, heaving a sigh. Sean frowned at the shadows smudged beneath her eyes. The fatigue in the droop of her shoulders.
“Rough night?” he asked. “I heard screams. Twice. Nightmares?”
“The sound carries that far?” Grace winced. “Sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. Is everyone all right this morning?”
Grace hesitated. Then she nodded, her lips pulling into a brief, tight smile. “They’re fine, thanks. Just worried about their mom.”
Of course. As she must be, as well. But she’d made it clear she didn’t want his help, and he was supposed to be working on letting go of the whole situation, remember? Sean stepped back so she could enter the cottage. On the couch, the toddler paged happily through an old issue of a wildlife magazine.
“Bear!” Annabelle exclaimed. “Rawr!”
“This is so not going to be pretty,” Grace muttered.
Sean’s lips curved upward. “Would it be easier if you stayed for coffee?”
“Not likely. She’s cutting two new molars, so she was up half the night. Tantrums are pretty much a given today.”
Sean managed to hold out for all of one-point-five seconds before Grace’s glum face and resigned air were more than he could endure.
“A
re you sure I can’t help out somehow? Maybe you can leave her with me for a little while and go catch a nap or something.”
Longing flitted across her expression, but she shook her head. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. I’m hoping the walk will tire her out so she sleeps this afternoon.”
“And you’ll nap with her?”
“I’ll see.”
“You need the sleep, Grace.”
Her lips thinned into the stubborn line he was beginning to recognize. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. You’re exhausted.” He frowned. “Why do you have to be so pigheaded about letting someone else take some of the load for a while?”
“And just whom would you suggest?” Grace scowled back. “The guy who’s laid up on crutches, recuperating from a major injury? Or should I call out the forest gnomes?”
Sean regarded her with raised eyebrows. “Forest gnomes?”
She grimaced. “Sorry, that was unnecessary.”
“Maybe,” he allowed. “But it was still pretty funny.”
Unexpected gratitude flashed through her eyes, and she muffled a snort. “It was more snarky than anything, but thank you for being so nice about it. I guess I am a little tired.”
“Then let me—”
A shake of her head cut him off. “As much as I appreciate the offer, I really will be fine.”
“Pigheaded,” he muttered a second time. Then he heaved an exaggerated sigh, taking the sting from his words. “I’ll get those keys for you.”
Grace put a hand out to his bare forearm. “Let me.”
Sean stared down at her fingers, and she snatched them back. Damned good thing, too, because it turned out that skin on skin—hers on his, anyway—had a rather odd effect on his balance. He lifted his head.
“Table beside the bed,” he said, and then he tried not to watch the sway of her hips as she crossed the living room.
As predicted, removing Annabelle from the premises wasn’t an easy job. The instant Grace scooped her up from the couch, the toddler’s bottom lip gave an ominous quiver, and Sean braced himself for the ear-piercing screech he knew was coming.
The little girl didn’t disappoint.
Grace grimaced as she rejoined him by the sliding glass door, shrieking toddler in arms and keys clutched in hand.
“Sorry for the commotion,” she yelled above the noise buffeting between them. She started to pry the nature magazine from Annabelle’s clutches. The toddler’s volume doubled.
Sean shook his head. “Keep it,” he yelled back. “It’s an old issue.”
“Are you sure?”
“Annbell s’ay here!”
He grimaced. “Quite.”
Grace tried and failed to hide a smile. She blocked a small hand headed her way. “We’ll leave you in peace, then,” she shouted, “and I’ll try to keep us out of your way from now on so you can get that rest you came out here for.”
“Annbell s’ay man!” The toddler threw the magazine on the floor and out both hands to Sean, her blue eyes overflowing with tears and genuine, heart-wrenching sadness. “S’ay man!”
Grace adjusted her hold, tucking the little girl into her side even as Sean wrestled with the urge to reach for the child. To add his insistence to hers—albeit more quietly, perhaps—that they stay and let him help ease the lines of strain etched around her aunt’s eyes.
“Not today, sweetie,” Grace told Annabelle. “The man needs to rest.”
The toddler’s howls resumed. Grace sent Sean a rueful look and raised her voice again. “Still think we’ll have a bear problem around here with all this noise?”
He made himself smile. Kept his hands locked on the crutches. “More likely she’ll keep every bear in a hundred-kilometer radius at bay.”
“That’s what I figured, too.” Grace stepped out of the cottage and onto the deck. “Well. Thanks again, Sean. Look after yourself.”
“You, too,” Sean said. He leaned against the doorframe to watch their departure. The slender aunt who had taken on so much, the toddler still wailing to stay with the man. When Grace looked over her shoulder from edge of the woods, he raised his hand in a last farewell, then slid the door closed and turned back to his cottage.
His empty, deafeningly silent cottage.
Damn.
CHAPTER 17
………………
GRACE LEANED HER HEAD BACK against the sofa cushions and closed her eyes. Thank God Annabelle had finally fallen asleep this afternoon. Last night had been the third in a row of dealing with teething, and Grace didn’t know how much longer her body would hold out. It felt as if her brain had detached from the rest of her, watching from a distance as she went through the motions of caring for Julianne’s family. How in the world had her sister managed all those years? How would she manage if—
The usual mental door slammed closed on the thought. She couldn’t go there. Not yet. Deal with Barry first, the rest of your life after that. It was the only way she might stay sane.
Might.
Lifting her head with more effort than should have been necessary, she peered suspiciously at the huddle of children at the kitchen table. The three of them were supposed to be working on a writing exercise, but they’d been whispering between themselves for the last five minutes, casting furtive glances in her direction whenever they thought she wasn’t looking. Something was up. The question was, did she have the energy to figure out what?
Before she could decide, Lilliane broke away from the group and came to stand before her, hands folded in the prim manner she had when she was about to ask for something.
“Aunt Grace, may I please bake cookies?”
Normally, Grace wouldn’t have hesitated to give permission. Lilly might only be eight, but she was already an accomplished baker—far better than Grace herself—and required only minimal supervision around the stove. But still…all that huddling for the sake of cookies? She raised an eyebrow.
“Is there some special occasion I should know about?”
Lilly’s soft gaze slid away. “Noo…we just want cookies. Raisin ones.”
“I see. Do we have all the ingredients?”
Pigtails flopped enthusiastically in response. “I made sure they were on your list the last time we went to town.”
“And you’re equally sure there’s nothing else I need to know about these cookies?”
Hesitation, and then a negative shake of Lilly’s head.
“We’ll help her make them,” Josh offered, urging Sage forward. “And we’ll clean up, too. You can even take a nap, if you’d like. I know you were up again last night. You can use my bed, and I’ll look after Annabelle if she wakes up.”
Understanding dawned, curving Grace’s mouth into a smile that pushed away some of the weariness. They were trying to put together a surprise for her. How like them—and how awful of her to suspect anything. She should know better. She did know better, because not a single one of the three had so much as stepped near their boundaries in the entire month they’d been with her.
Apart from the stuffed animal incident, that was, and they’d had help with that one. She smiled at the memory of Sean—
She halted that line of thought, too, and focused instead on the bone-deep craving for the feel of a pillow beneath her head, and blissful, uninterrupted sleep…
“You know what, Josh? I’m going to take you up on that.” Grace levered herself up from the couch. “But wake me in an hour, all right? I don’t want to nap too long or I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
That should give them enough time to put a batch of cookies into the oven and tidy up after themselves.
Josh and Lilly exchanged a glance, and then he nodded. “Sure, Aunt Grace. One hour.”
………………
When Grace woke on her own to long shadows across the ceiling, she knew, instantly and without a doubt,that she’d slept longer than the specified timeframe. Far longer. She groaned at the thought of how much difficulty she’d have getting
to sleep that night, then snorted. Really? Given the probability she’d be up another dozen times during the night, she was worrying about the getting-to-sleep part?
She sighed and swung her feet to the floor, then straightened out the covers to her nephew’s high standard of neatness. She could just picture them out in the kitchen, shushing one another now that they’d heard her stir, waiting for her to come out and see their surprise. She smiled.
But when she opened the door, absolute silence reigned. No voices, no toddler’s feet thudding across the floor. Grace’s smile faded. She peered down the hallway to where all the other doors stood ajar. Annabelle was definitely up, and it was definitely too quiet in the cottage for that.
She padded down the hallway to the living room. Empty.
The kitchen beyond was equally deserted. It also looked as if a minor tornado had blown through, opening cupboard doors and scattering bowls and various baking ingredients across the counters in its wake. She crossed to the sliding glass doors. No one on the deck. No one on the lawn that stretched down to the lake. Concern prickled along the back of her neck. What the—
Barry.
Her knees buckled under the weight of the thought, and her brain shattered into a million fragments of fear and fury. Christ. Barry had found them. Come in while she was asleep and taken them. Taken the kids.
Leaden limbs wanted to fold beneath her. She forced them to carry her into the kitchen. Swept the cell phone off the top of the fridge. Headed for the mudroom and her rubber boots, the quickest footwear she could don.
Maybe she could still catch him. Maybe if she drove fast enough and he didn’t have too much of a head start—
Luc. A touch of her thumb on the cell phone’s touch screen brought up the contact list. Luc would know what to do. She reached for the door and then jumped back as it swung open for Josh, narrowly missing her nose.
She stared. Her nephew’s eyes widened behind his wire-framed glasses. In his arms, Annabelle grinned a wide, toothy grin and held out her hands to Grace.
“Mama!” she shouted.
“A-Aunt Grace,” Josh stuttered. “You’re up.”
Grace didn’t answer. She couldn’t. She was too busy wrestling with equal desires to sweep both children into a hug, collapse in sheer relief, and tear a broad strip off Josh for taking at least a decade off her life.
Forever Grace Page 10